W.e.b. Griffin - The Corps II - CALL TO ARMS

"I don't quite follow that," Banning said.

"According to General Forrest," Dr. Toland said, "the duties they have in mind for you are such that they just can't take the chance that you will either get sick, physically as opposed to mentally; or that you will suddenly decide you're Napoleon."

Banning looked at him sharply. He had not expected to hear General Forrest's name. He wondered if Toland was telling him the truth or whether this was some kind of a headshrinker's game. After a moment he concluded that Toland was telling the truth and that he had been discussed by this headshrinker and the Deputy Chief of Staff for Intelligence, USMC. Then he wondered why that had happened. Why was he important enough for Forrest to spend time talking about him to a headshrinker?

"That seems to surprise you," Toland said, and Banning knew that was a headshrinker's question.

"I'm just a captain," Banning said.

"Not for long," Toland said. "One of the questions on General Forrest's mind was whether or not it was safe to make you a major."

Banning was surprised at that, too, but when he looked at Dr. Toland for an explanation, Toland was going through a stack of papers on his desk. He found what he was looking for, took a pen from a holder, and signed his name on each of four copies. Then he handed one to Banning. "The significant part is on the back side," Toland said. It was a Report of Physical Examination. In the "Comments" block on the reverse side mere was a single typewritten line and a signature block:

"Captain Edward J. Banning, USMC, is physically qualified without exception to perform the duties of the office (Major, USMC) to which he has been selected for promotion. "Jack B. Toland, Captain, Medical Corps, USNR" Banning looked at Toland with mixed surprise and relief. Toland didn't look old enough to be a captain. (A Naval captain is equivalent to a colonel, USMC.) And he was surprised to learn-in this way-that he was being promoted. But mostly, he was enormously relieved to read the words physically qualified without exception. Toland smiled at him.

"We watched you while we were running you through the examinations," Toland said. "What I was afraid we might find was a tumor. That's sometimes the case when there is an unexplained loss of sight." "What was it, then?"

"I think it falls into the general medical category we refer to as, 'we don't know what the hell it is,'" Toland said. "If I had to make a guess, I'd say it was probably either a brain concussion or that the nerves to the eyes were somehow bruised, so to speak, by concussion. I understand you were shelled twice, and pretty badly." "Yes, sir," Banning said.

"Well, whatever it was, Major Banning, I think you can stop worrying about it."

"I'm astonished at my relief," Banning blurted. "I suddenly feel-hell, I don't know-like a wet towel."

"That's to be expected," Toland said. "What's unusual is that someone like you would admit it." Banning looked at him, but didn't reply.

"You could do me a service, Banning, if you would," Toland said.

"Sir?"

"Other then are going to be blinded," Toland said. "Some of them are already coming back. It would help me if you could tell me what it's like."

"Frightening," Banning said. "Very frightening."

Toland made a gesture, asking him to go on.

"And then I got mad," Banning said. "Furious. Why me? Why hadn't I been killed?"

Toland nodded, and then when Banning said nothing else, he asked, "Suicide? Any thoughts of suicide?"

Banning met Toland's eyes for a long moment before he replied. "Yes," he said.

"Why didn't you?" Toland asked.

"I had a cocked pistol in my belt when I took the bandages off," Banning asked.

"And do you think you would have-could have-gone through with it?"

"Yes," Banning said, simply.

"Because you didn't want to face life without sight?"

"Because I was useless," Banning said. "I'm a Marine officer."

"And didn't want to be a burden to your family?"

"The only family I have, aside from the Corps, is a wife. And I left her on the wharf in Shanghai. God knows where she is now."

"I knew you were married," Dr. Toland said. "I didn't know the circumstances. That makes it a little awkward."

"Sir?"

"My next line was going to be 'Well, now that we're through with you, you're entitled to a thirty-day convalescent leave. A second honeymoon at government expense.'"

"Christ!" Banning said.

"What's worse is that it's not 'do you want a convalescent leave?', but 'you will take a thirty-day convalescent leave,'" Toland said. "That's out of my hands. No family anywhere? Cousin, uncle…?"

"None that I want to see," Banning said. "I'd really rather go back to duty."

Toland shook his head, meaning "that's out of the question."

"The BOQ rooms here are supposed to be the cheapest hotel rooms in New York City," Toland said. "Dollar and a half a day. Be a tourist for a month."

Banning looked at him doubtfully.

"You'd be able to get a lot of the paperwork out of the way," Toland pursued. "And get yourself some new uniforms."

"Sir?"

"Our benevolent government, Major Banning," Dr. Toland said dryly, "is not only going to finally pay you, once they get your service records up to date, but is going to compensate you for the loss of whatever you were forced to leave behind in the Far East. Household goods, car, everything. And I understand the only uniform you have is the one you were wearing when you came in here. You'll have to make up a list of what you lost, and swear to it."

"I hadn't thought about that," Banning admitted.

"You'll have a good deal of money coming to you," Toland said. "And a newly promoted major should have some decent uniforms. Hell, you'll be able to afford going to Brooks Brothers for them."

"Brooks Brothers?" Banning parroted, and then laughed.

"Is that funny?"

Banning cocked his head and chuckled.

"The day the Japanese came ashore in the Philippines," he said, "I was on a bluff overlooking the beach. There's a couple of companies of Marines, Fourth Marines, on the beach, with nothing but machine guns. The artillery we were supposed to have, and the bombers, just didn't show up. There's half a dozen Japanese destroyers and as many troop ships offshore. And just before the invasion started, a mustang second lieutenant, a kid named McCoy, joined me. He worked for me as a corporal in China, and he was in the Philippines as a courier. So he came running, like the cavalry, with a BAR and loaded down with magazines." (The Browning Automatic Rifle is a fully automatic, caliber-.30-06 weapon, utilizing 20-round magazines.) "The Japanese started their landing barges for the beach, and the destroyers started to fire ranging rounds. And then McCoy, absolute horror in his voice, says 'Oh, my God!' and I looked at him to see what else could possibly be wrong. And he says, 'My pants! My pants! They're going to be ruined, and you wouldn't believe what I paid for them. I bought them in Brooks Brothers!'"

Toland laughed, and then asked, "What happened to him?"

"They dropped a five-inch round on us a couple of minutes later, and the next thing I knew I was in the basement of a church. McCoy had carried me there."

"Well, when he gets back, the government will replace his pants, too," Toland said.

"He's back," Banning said. "He was a courier, and he got out." He chuckled. "And he probably got off the plane with the form for the loss of his trousers already filled out. McCoy is a very bright young man."

"If he's a friend of yours," Toland said, "you could use part of your leave to go see him."

"That's not possible," Banning said, shortly.

Toland's eyebrows rose but he didn't respond.

"If you're going to be here-and this is a request, Major-I really would like to talk to you some more about your feelings when you thought you were blind."