W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps 03 - Counterattack

"Yes, Sir."

The Commandant looked at him thoughtfully, even disbelievingly.

"That’s the only reason you came here tonight? You sat out there on the porch for hours, waiting for me to come home just to ask me to do something you knew damned well I wouldn’t do?"

"Sergeant Galloway got a raw deal, Sir. And I need squadron commanders."

"Loyalty to your men is commendable, General," the Commandant said, "but there is a point beyond which it becomes counterproductive." "Yes, Sir."

"And goddammit, Doc," the Commandant said, warming to his subject, "I’m disappointed that you don’t know what that point is."

Well, I tried,Mclnerney thought. And really pissed him off. I wonder what that’s going to cost Marine Aviation somewhere down the pike?

He set his glass on the table. "With your permission, Sir, I’ll take my leave." The Commandant glowered at him.

"Keep your seat, and finish your drink, you hard-headed Scotchman," he said. "I can’t afford to lose any more old friends."

(Three)

Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps Parachute School

Lakehurst Naval Air Station

Lakehurst, New Jersey

15 May 1942

First Lieutenant Richard B. Macklin, USMC, heard the knock at the jamb of his open office door, and then his peripheral vision picked up First Sergeant George J. Hammersmith standing there with a sheet of teletype paper in his hand.

Macklin did not raise his eyes from the papers on his desk. First Things First made sense. If you interrupted your work every time someone appeared at your door, you never got anything done. And he certainly didn’t want Sergeant Hammersmith to form the opinion, as so many old Marines did, that a commanding officer had nothing to do but sit behind a desk and wait for payday while the sergeants ran the Corps.

He finished what he was doing, which was to consider a request from the Navy Commander of Lakehurst that he permanently detail two enlisted men a day to work with the Base Engineer on roads and grounds. He decided against it; Para-Marines had more important things to do than pick up trash and cut weeds. Then he raised his head.

"You wish something, First Sergeant?"

"Got a TWX here, Sir, I thought you’d want to see right away."

Macklin made an impatient gesture for Hammersmith to give him the sheet of teletype paper. He judged in advance that the message would probably be of little genuine importance and could just as easily have been sent by mail. In his view, ninety-five percent of TWXs were a waste of time.

He was wrong.

HEADQUARTERS USMC

WASHDC 0755 15MAY42

ROUTINE

COMMANDING OFFICER

USMC PARACHUTE SCHOOL

LAKEHURST NAVAL AIR STATION

LAKEHURST NJ

1. ON RECEIPT, ISSUE NECESSARY ORDERS DETACHING 1STLT RICHARD B. MACKLIN, USMC, FROM HEADQUARTERS AND HEADQUARTERS COMPANY USMC PARASCHOOL LAKEHURST NAS NJ FOR TRANSFER TO HQ and HQ COMPANY 1STUSMC PARA BN, FLEET MARINE FORCE PACIFIC.

2. LT MACKLIN WILL REPORT TO US NAVAL BASE SAN DIEGO CAL NOT LATER THAN 2400 HOURS 30 MAY 1942 FOR FURTHER SHIPMENT TO FINAL DESTINATION. TRAVEL BY FIRST AVAILABLE MIL AND/OR CIV RAIL, AIR, OR MOTOR TRANSPORTATION TO SAN DIEGO IS AUTHORIZED. TRAVEL BEYOND SAN DIEGO WILL BE BY US GOVT SEA OR AIR TRANSPORT, PRIORITY BBBB2B.

3. TIME PERMITTING LT MACKLIN IS AUTHORIZED NO MORE THAN SEVEN (7) DAYS DELAY EN ROUTE OVERSEAS LEAVE.

4. LT MACKLIN WILL COMPLY WITH ALL APPLICABLE REGULATIONS CONCERNING OVERSEAS TRANSFER BEFORE DEPARTING LAKEHURST. STORAGE OF PERSONAL AND HOUSEHOLD GOODS AND ONE (1) PRIVATELY

OWNED AUTOMOBILE AT GOVT EXPENSE IS AUTHORIZED.

5. HEADQUARTERS USMC (ATTN: PERS/23/A/11) WILL BE NOTIFIED BY TWX OF DATE OF LT MACKLIN’S

DEPARTURE.

BY DIRECTION:

FRANK J. BOEHM, CAPT, USMCR

The first thing that occurred to Lieutenant Macklin was that it was sort of funny that as the Commanding Officer of the Parachute School, he would be ordering himself overseas.

Then it no longer seemed amusing at all.

His promotion had not come through.

He was supposed to be in San Diego two weeks from tomorrow, and from there he was going to the Pacific-in other words, to war.

It didn’t seem fair. Just as he was getting the Parachute School shipshape, they were taking it away from him.

It seemed to him that he could make a far greater contribution to the Marine Corps where he was-as an expert in place, so to speak-than in a routine assignment in the 1stParachute Battalion.

After some thought, he picked up the telephone and called Captain Boehm, who had signed the TWX and had presumably made the decision to send him overseas. He outlined to Boehm the reasons it would be to the greater benefit of the Marine Corps if the TWX was rescinded.

Captain Boehm was not at all receptive. He was, in fact, downright insulting:

"I heard you were a scumbag, Macklin. But I never thought I would personally hear a Marine officer trying to weasel out of going overseas."

(Four)

The Officers’ Club

U.S. Marine Corps Base

Quantico, Virginia

1730 Hours 17 May 1942

When he entered the club, First Lieutenant David F. Schneider, USMC, was not exactly pleased to bump into First Lieutenant James G. Ward, USMCR, and Lieutenant Ward’s aunt, Mrs. Caroline Ward McNamara. But neither was he exactly unhappy. He reacted like a man for whom fate has made a decision he would rather not have made himself.

Now that he had accidentally bumped into them, so to speak, as opposed to having gone looking for them, he could now begin to rectify an unpleasant situation that it was his duty, as a regular Marine officer, to rectify for the good of the Corps.

Schneider had learned of Mrs. McNamara’s presence on the base the day before: He was looking for Lieutenant Ward; so he walked into the squadron office and asked the sergeant on duty if he had seen him.

"He took the lady over to the Officers’ Guest House, Lieutenant."

The Guest House was a facility provided to temporarily house (there was a seventy-two-hour limit) dependents and friends of Quantico officers.

"What lady?"

"Didn’t get her name. Nice looking. First, she asked for Sergeant Galloway; and when I told her he wasn’t back yet, she asked for Lieutenant Ward, so I got him on the phone, and he came over and fetched her and told me he was taking her over to the Guest House." There was a perceptible pause before the sergeant added, "Sir."

There was little question that the lady was Mrs. Caroline Ward McNamara, but Schneider was a careful, methodical man. He called the Guest House later that day to inquire if there was a Mrs. McNamara registered. And, of course, there was.

Technical Sergeant Charles M. Galloway had gone to Washington in response to a telephone call from General McInerney’s office. But Washington was to be only his first stop. Schneider suspected that Major Jake Dillon, the Public Affairs Officer, was behind the mysterious call from General McInerney’s office. If that was the case, there was no telling where Galloway had gone after he left Washington.

"Hey, Dave," Ward called to him. "I thought you would show up here."

"Good evening," Schneider said.

"You remember my Aunt Caroline, don’t you?"

"Of course. How nice to see you again, Mrs. McNamara."

"Oh, call me Caroline!"

Dave Schneider smiled at her, but did not respond.

"Let’s go in the bar," Jim Ward suggested. Schneider smiled again, and again did not reply.

The bar was crowded with young officers. With varying degrees of discretion, they all made it clear that they considered Mrs. Caroline Ward McNamara one of the better specimens of the gentle gender.

Dave Schneider wondered if they would register so much approval of the "lady" if they were aware that Mrs. McNamara was not only shacked up with an enlisted man but apparently didn’t much care who knew about it.