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

"Here’s the final throw-"

"I believe the correct phrase is ‘pitch,’ Sir."

"The final pitch, then. What do you know of our enemy, the Jap?"

In Japanese, Banning said, "I read and write the language, Sir, and I learned enough about them in China to come to believe that no Westerner can ever know them well."

"I will be damned," Commander Feldt said. "That was Japanese? I don’t speak a bloody word of it myself."

"That was Japanese, Sir," Banning said, and then translated what he had said a moment before.

"What were you doing in China?"

"I was the Intelligence Officer of the 4thMarines, Sir."

"And you went home to America before they were sent to the Philippines?"

"No, Sir, afterward."

"Are we splitting a hair here, Major? You went home before the war started?"

"No, Sir. After."

"You were considered too valuable, as an intelligence officer who speaks Japanese, to be captured?"

"No, Sir. I was medically evacuated. I was blinded by concussion."

"How?"

"They think probably concussion from artillery, Sir. My sight returned on the submarine that took me off Corregidor."

"Axe you a married man, Major?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How would your wife react to the news-actually, there wouldn’t be any news, she just wouldn’t hear from you-that you were behind the Japanese lines?"

"That’s a moot point, Sir. The one thing I have been forbidden to do is serve as a Coastwatcher myself."

Feldt grunted. "Me too," he said.

"My wife is still in China, Commander," Banning said.

Feldt met his eyes.

"I’m sorry," he said.

Feldt grunted as he heaved himself to his feet. He raised the sheet of plywood with another grunt, and shoved a heavy bolt through an eyebolt so that it would stay up. A map, covered with a sheet of celluloid, was exposed.

"This is our area of operation, Major," Commander Feldt said. "From the Admiralty Islands here, across the Pacific to the other side of New Ireland, and down to Vitiaz Strait between New Guinea and New Britain, and then down into the Solomon Sea in this area. The little marks are where we have people. The ones that are crossed out are places we haven’t heard from in some time, or know for sure that the Japs have taken out."

Banning walked around the desk and studied the map for several minutes without speaking. He saw there were a number of Xs marking locations which were no longer operational.

"The people manning these stations," Feldt explained, "have been commissioned as junior officers, or warrant officers, in the Royal Australian Navy Volunteer Reserve. The idea is to try to have the Japs treat them as prisoners of war if they are captured. There’s sort of a fuzzy area there. On one hand, if someone is in uniform, he is supposed to be treated as a POW if captured. On the other hand, what these people are doing, quite simply, is spying. One may shoot spies. The Japanese do. Or actually, they either torture our people to death; or, if they’re paying attention to the code of Bushido, they have a formal little ceremony, the culmination of which is the beheading of our people by an officer of suitable rank."

Banning now grunted.

"My people," Feldt went on, "are primarily former civil servants or plantation managers and, in a few cases, missionaries. Most of them have spent years in their area. They speak the native languages and dialects, and in some cases-not all-are protected by the natives. They are undisciplined, irreverent, and contemptuous of military and naval organizations-and in particular of officers of the regular establishment. They are people of incredible courage and, for the obvious reasons, of infinite value to military or naval operations in this area."

"I heard something about this," Banning said. "I didn’t realize how many of them there are."

"Supporting them logistically is very difficult," Feldt went on, as if he had not heard Banning, "for several reasons. For one thing, the distances. For another, the nonavailability, except in the most extreme circumstances, of submarines and aircraft. And when aircraft and submarines are available, they are of course limited to operation on the shorelines; and my people are most often in the mountains and jungle, some distance from the shore. Landing aircraft in the interior of the islands is ninety percent of the time impossible, and in any case it would give the Japs a pretty good idea where my people are. The result is that my people are eating the food they carried with them into the jungle (if any remains), and native food, which will not support health under the circumstances they have to live under. If illness strikes, or if they accidentally break an ankle, their chances of survival are minimal."

"Christ!" Banning said.

"In addition, the humidity and other conditions tend to render wireless equipment inoperable unless it is properly and constantly cared for. And these people are not technicians."

Banning shook his head.

"And now, Major, be good enough to tell me how you intend to help me."

"In addition to what you tell me to do," Banning said, after a moment, "money, parachutists, and radios. I might also be able to do something about aircraft priorities."

"Do you Americans really believe that money can solve any problem? I noticed you mentioned that first."

"I’m not sure about any, " Banning replied. "But many? Yes, Sir, I believe that. I’ve got a quarter of a million dollars in a bank in Melbourne that can be used to support you, and I can get more if I need more."

"That sounds very generous."

"The Marine Corps wants access to your intelligence," Banning said.

"You would have it anyway, wouldn’t you, via your Navy?"

"We would like it direct," Banning said.

Feldt grunted.

"You said ‘parachutists’? Have you got parachutists?"

"I have one, Sir, already in Australia," Banning replied. He did not say, of course, The notion of sending Koffler off on a mission like these is absurd on its face. Then he added, "I can get more in a short period of time."

"What about wireless sets? I thought you said you didn’t know anything about that."

"Sir, I don’t," Banning said. "But some are on the way."

"What kind?"

"Sir, I don’t know. I was told ‘the best there is.’ "

"I would like to know what kind."

"I’ll find out for you," Banning said. "Just as soon as they show up. So far, the only asset I have in Australia is the money."

"And, of course, you."

"Yes, Sir. And my clerk," Banning said, and added, "He’s the parachutist I mentioned. He’s eighteen years old. I can’t imagine sending him off to parachute onto some island. But, Sir, he knows about parachuting. He could tell us what we need, and probably what’s available in the States."

Feldt either grunted or snorted, Banning wasn’t sure which. Then he turned and pulled the bolt out of the eyebolt and lowered the sheet of raw plywood so that it again covered the map.

"Tell me, Major Banning," he said, "do you have a Christian name?"

"Yes, Sir. Edward."

"And your friends call you that? Or ‘Ed’?"

"Ed, Sir."

"And do you drink, Ed? Wine, beer, spirits?"

"Yes, Sir. Wine, beer and spirits."

"Good. Having a Yank around here will be bad enough without him being a sodding teetotaler."

"May I interpret that to mean, Sir, that I may stay?"

"On condition that you break yourself of the habit of using the word ‘Sir.’ Are you aware, Ed, that you use ‘Sir’ in place of a comma?"

"I suppose I do."

"My Christian name is Eric," Feldt said. "But to keep things in their proper perspective around here, Ed, I think you had better call me ‘Commander.’"

They smiled at each other.

"Let’s go drink our lunch," Feldt said. "When we’ve done that, we’ll see what can be done about getting you and your savages a place to live."