W Griffin - The Corps I - Semper Fi

These were the thoughts that were occupying his mind, not the remote, way-down-the-pike possibility of being called before a board of officers who would make up their minds whether or not he stood a chance of keeping up with a bunch of college boys at Quantico.

On Monday morning, he signed the application papers. On Wednesday morning, Staff Sergeant Davis came to the barracks and told him to put on his best uniform and report to the board at 1330.

"Sit down, Corporal," a major, who was the president of the board, said. The five officers of the board were sitting behind two issue tables pushed together. One was a second lieutenant who was functioning as secretary. Two of them were first lieutenants (Lieutenant Fogarty, the 47th Motor Transport Platoon commander was one of them). Captain Sessions was the fourth. And the last was the major McCoy was seeing for the first time.

McCoy sat down at attention in a straight-backed wooden chair facing the tables.

"We have before us what is apparently a well-turned-out corporal of the regular Marine Corps," the president of the board said, "who, with his shady reputation, his illegal chevrons, and his equally illegal campaign hat, is just about what we expected of a China Marine so highly recommended by Captain Sessions. And others."

"Come on, Major." Captain Sessions chuckled. "The lieutenant's going to write that all down."

"Strike everything after-what did I say?-'well-turned-out corporal of the regular Marine Corps,' Lieutenant," the president ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir," the lieutenant said, and smiled at McCoy.

"Who comes to us not only recommended by Captain Sessions but by another member of this board, Lieutenant Fogarty, whose recommendation is based on his long-time evaluation-it must be three weeks now-as the corporal's platoon leader. The corporal's qualifications having, after due evaluation, been judged to be more than adequate, we now turn to the real question. In your own words, Corporal, would you tell this board why you feel yourself qualified, after proper training, to serve your country and the Marine Corps as a commissioned officer?"

"I'm not sure I do, sir," McCoy said.

"That's the wrong answer, Corporal," the president of the board said. "You want to try again?"

"Tell us why not, McCoy," Captain Sessions said.

This whole fucking thing is unreal. How am I supposed to answer that?

He paraphrased what was in his mind: "I'm not sure I know how to answer that question, sir," he said.

"You've known second lieutenants, McCoy," Sessions said. "Pick out any one of them except this one, and tell us why you doubt your ability to do anything he can do."

"Sir, all I've got is a high school education," McCoy said.

"You speak Chinese, I have been told?" the president asked. "And Japanese? And several European languages?"

"I don't speak Japanese as well as Chinese, sir. And I can hardly read it at all."

"Well, here's a given for you, Corporal. So far as the Marine Corps is concerned, fluency in almost any foreign language is worth more than a bachelor's degree. Anything else?"

"I wouldn't know how to behave as an officer, sir."

"They'll teach you that at Quantico," the president said. "Anything else?"

"Sir, Captain Sessions just sprung this whole idea on me."

"Answer this question. Think it over first-yes or no. No qualifications. Do you want to be an officer or don't you?"

McCoy thought it over. For what seemed to him like a very long time. The president of the board began to tap his fingertips impatiently on the table. Captain Sessions's left eyebrow was arched, a sign of impatience, often followed by an angry outburst.

"Yes, sir," McCoy said.

"You are temporarily dismissed, Corporal," the president said, "while this board discusses your application. There may be other questions for you. Please wait in the corridor."

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said. He stood up, did an about-face, and marched out of the room. He had just managed to close the door when he broke wind. It smelled like something had died.

"The board will offer comments in inverse order of rank," the president said. "Lieutenant?"

"Sir, I'm a little concerned about his attitude," the second lieutenant said. "He certainly took his time thinking it over when you asked him straight out if he wanted to become an officer."

"It has been my experience, Lieutenant," the major said, "that what's wrong with most junior officers is that they leap into action without thinking things over carefully."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said.

"Lieutenant Bruce?"

"So far as I'm concerned," Lieutenant Bruce said, "he's what we're supposed to be looking for. A noncom of proven ability who can handle a wartime commission."

"Lieutenant Fogarty?"

"I'm impressed with him," Fogarty said simply. "He's a little rough around the edges, maybe, but they can clean up his language and teach him which fork to use at Quantico."

"Ed?" the president asked, turning to Captain Sessions.

"I admit of course to a certain personal bias. He saved my life. One finds all sorts of previously unsuspected virtues in people who do that."

There was laughter along the table.

"But even if he hadn't saved my skin, and even if a certain unnamed very senior officer had not made his desires known, I would enthusiastically recommend McCoy for a commission," Sessions added.

"Does he know about the general?"

"I'm sure he doesn't. The general and his aide were in civilian clothing, and they weren't introduced," Sessions said. "Being as objective as I can, I believe the Corps needs officers like McCoy."

"Because he's a linguist, you mean?" the President asked.

"He'd be a linguist anyway," Sessions said. "But that would be a waste of his talents, even though people who speak Chinese and Japanese are damned hard to come by."

"We will now vote in the same order," the president said. "Unless someone wants to call him back and ask him something else?"

He looked up and down the table.

"Lieutenant?" he asked, when he saw that no one had any additional questions.

"I vote yes, sir," the lieutenant said.

One by one, the others said exactly the same thing.

"This board, whose president is not about to put his judgment in conflict with that of the Assistant Chief of Staff for Intelligence, USMC…," the president said, and waited for the expected chuckles.

After they came, he went on: "Especially after he said- slowly, carefully, and with great emphasis-I think we ought to put bars on that boy's shoulders, if for no other reason than he seems to be the only one in the Marine Corps besides me and Chesty Puller who doesn't think the Japs can be whipped with one hand tied behind us.' "

He waited again for the chuckles, then concluded: "This board has in secret session just unanimously approved the application of Corporal McCoy to attend the Platoon Leader's Course at Quantico. Lieutenant, you are directed to make the decision known to the appointing authority."

"Aye, aye, sir," the lieutenant said.

"Call him back in here, will you?" the president said.

The lieutenant went to the door, opened it, and motioned McCoy back into the room. McCoy marched in and stood to attention beside the straight-backed wooden chair.

"Corporal," the president said, "this board has considered your application carefully, and after review by the appointing authority, that decision will be made known to you through channels. In the meantime, you will continue to perform your regular duties. Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir."

The president rapped his knuckles on the table. "This board stands adjourned until recalled by me."

McCoy, thinking he had been dismissed again, started to do another about-face.

"Hold it, Corporal," the president said. "Sit down a minute."