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

(Three)

Townesville Station

Townesville, Queensland

31 May 1942

Major Edward Banning, USMC, was on hand when his command, less the rear echelon (Corporal Koffler), disembarked from the Melbourne train. USMC Special Detachment 14 debarked after the last of the civilian and a half-dozen Australian military passengers had come down from the train to the platform.

The first Marine off the train was Staff Sergeant Richardson, the senior NCO, who either didn’t see Major Banning or pretended not to. He took up a position on the platform facing the sleeper car. Then, one by one, quickly, the others filed off and formed two ranks facing Staff Sergeant Richardson. They were carrying their weapons at sling arms. Most of them had Spring-fields, but here and there was a Thompson submachine gun.

They were not, however, wearing any of their web field equipment, Major Banning noticed. They were freshly turned out, in sharply creased greens, their fore-and-aft caps at a proper salty angle. Two or three of them seemed a bit flushed, as if, for example, they had recently imbibed some sort of alcoholic beverage.

Staff Sergeant Richardson fell them in, put them through the dress-right-dress maneuver, and did a snappy, precise, about-face. At that point, First Lieutenant Joseph L. Howard descended the sleeping-car steps.

He too either did not see Major Banning or pretended not to. He marched before Staff Sergeant Richardson, who saluted him crisply.

"Sir," Staff Sergeant Richardson barked, "the detachment is formed and all present or accounted for."

Lieutenant Howard returned the salute crisply.

‘Take your post, Sergeant," he ordered.

Salutes were again exchanged. Then Staff Sergeant Richardson did a precise right-face movement, followed by several others that ultimately placed him in line with, and to the right of, the troop formation. At the same time, Lieutenant Howard did an equally precise about-face movement and stood erectly at attention.

Major Banning understood his role in the ceremony. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, ground his toe on it, and then marched erectly until he faced Lieutenant Howard.

Howard saluted.

"Sir," he barked, "Special Detachment 14, less the rear echelon, reporting for duty, Sir."

Banning returned the salute.

He looked at his men, who stood there stone-faced, even the two or three who he suspected had been at the sauce.

"At ease!"

The detachment assumed the position.

"Welcome to Townesville," Banning said. "And let me say the good news: your drill sergeants would be proud of you. You would be a credit to any parade ground."

There were smiles and chuckles.

"The bad news is that it’s about a mile and a half from here to our billets, and there are no wheels."

Now there were grins on all their faces.

"May I respectfully suggest that the Major underestimates his command, Sir?" Joe Howard said.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Banning asked.

"If the Major would be good enough to accompany me, Sir?" Howard asked.

"Where?"

"To the rear of the train, Sir," Howard said.

"All right," Banning said.

"First Sergeant," Lieutenant Howard ordered formally, "take the detachment."

Staff Sergeant Richardson marched up in front again, and a final salute was exchanged.

Banning and Howard walked to the end of the train, where he stopped at a flatcar. Whatever it carried was covered with a canvas tarpaulin.

"They call these things ‘open goods wagons’ over here, Sir," he said. "That caused a little confusion for a while. We kept asking for flatcars, and they didn’t know what the hell we were talking about."

"What’s in here? The radios?"

"I think the radios are in the last car, Sir," Howard said.

He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, then gestured. Half a dozen Marines handed their weapons to the others and came trotting down the platform.

An officer and a gentleman is not supposed to whistle like that,Banning thought, so its a good thing there’s nobody here but me to see it.

The Marines clambered up on the flatcar and started to remove the tarpaulin. Large wheels were revealed.

"You stole a truck," Banning accused Howard.

"No, Sir. That truck was issued to us. It’s perfectly legal."

The tarpaulin was now almost off, revealing a Studebaker stake-bodied truck. In the bed of the truck was a 1941 Studebaker automobile. On the doors of both the truck and the car were neatly stenciled the Marine Corps emblem and the letters USMC.

"Is that the car from The Elms?" Banning asked, and then, without giving Howard a chance to reply, continued, "You sure that’s not stolen, Joe?"

"I checked on it myself, Sir, when Richardson showed up with them."

"Them?"

"We have two trucks and three cars, Sir. I mean, counting the one you already had. I left that in Melbourne with Koffler. I figured you’d need it when you went back there."

Banning saw that the automobile was stuffed with duffel bags.

Well, that explains why they weren’t carrying them over their shoulders when they got off the train.

"How do you propose to get that truck off the flatcar?" Banning asked.

"No problem, Sir," Lieutenant Howard said.

The Marines now pulled thick planks from under the truck and placed them against the flatcar, forming a ramp. As two of the Marines loosened chains holding the truck chassis to the railroad car, a third got behind the wheel and started the engine.

Moments later, the truck was on the platform. The planks were now moved to form a ramp so that the car could be driven off the truck. The duffel bags were taken from the car and thrown onto the truck.

As the entire process was being repeated for the second flat-car, Major Banning said to Lieutenant Howard, "Why do I have this uncomfortable feeling that I am going to end my career in Portsmouth?"

"This is all perfectly legal, Sir," Howard said. "Trust me."

"God, it better be!"

When the tarpaulin covering a third flatcar was removed, Banning walked down to see what it held. There were wooden crates, containing Hallicrafters radios, portable antennas, and generators.

Well, they’re here. I hope to hell they work. I’m going to look like a fool in front of Eric Feldt if they don’t.

"Let’s hope at least one of them works," Banning said to Howard.

"They all work, Sir," Howard said. "Sergeant Haley and Corporal Koffler checked them out."

Sergeant Haley, Banning remembered, was a pudgy-faced buck sergeant, one of his three radio operators. But he also remembered that Haley had told him he was an operator, not a technician. And Koffler? "Haley and Koffler?"

"Yes, Sir. When I got to The Elms, I saw Koffler had set up one of the radios and an antenna and some batteries and was listening to KYW in Honolulu. I had them check out the others as they came in to make sure they worked. I figured if they didn’t, it would be easier to get them fixed in Melbourne than here. A couple of them needed a little work, but they’re all working now."

"Haley fixed them?"

"No. Koffler. Haley had never seen one of them before."

"And Koffler had?".

"No. But ... it took me a while to figure this out, Major. Haley went to Radio School. He knows about Marine and Navy radios. Koffler was a radio amateur, what they call a ham."

"He told me," Banning interrupted. "So what?"

"So he can apparently make a radio from parts. He understands what makes them work. Even Haley was impressed. There’s more to Koffler than meets the eye."

"That wouldn’t be hard," Banning said dryly, then asked, "How many radio sets are there?"

"Eight, Sir. I brought seven of them up here. Koffler rigged one of them so we can talk to Melbourne as soon as we get one set up here."