Griffin W.E.B. - The Corps 09 - Under Fire

"My God, I am running off at the mouth, aren't I?" Pick-ering said. "Maybe George's drinks were stronger than I thought."

"Indelicate question," Howe said. "You ever hear any-thing about the Viceroy?"

"Not a word. And I would have. Of course, it's a lot eas-ier to be faithful to your wife if she's with you. What did Oscar Wilde say, `Celibacy is the most unusual of all the perversions'?"

"If you don't ask me about my fidelity while overseas defending God, Mother, and Apple Pie," Howe said, "I won't ask you about yours."

Pickering chuckled.

"I think what really annoyed Patricia was that Harriman apparently didn't give a damn who knew about the Churchill woman, which had to be very embarrassing for Mrs. Harriman."

"What does it say in the Good Book, Flem? `Judge not, lest ye be judged'?"

"I've never met a woman who got that far in reading the Bible," Pickering said.

He splashed water on his face, wiped it with a towel, and then splashed on aftershave.

"Well, there we go. My shameful five o'clock shadow having been shorn, and smelling like a French whore, I am now prepared to meet with the ambassador. And Ken Mc-Coy's father-in-law is just a little bit richer."

"When do you expect to hear from McCoy?" Howe asked.

"When he has something to tell me," Pickering said. "He's very good at what he does, Ralph. My father taught me to get out of the way of people who know what they're doing, and let them do it."

Howe nodded.

"I'd better put a tie and my tunic on," Pickering said.

"I've been thinking about that," Howe said. "I didn't particularly like Harriman's tone of voice."

"What?"

"He was giving orders," Howe said. "As if he had that right."

"Doesn't he?"

"And if he walks in here and finds us all dressed up in our general's suits," Howe said, "shoes shined, et cetera- and one of us freshly shaved and smelling like a French whore-he will have established the pecking order as he wants it. Harriman will be the exalted ambassador dealing with a couple of unimportant lower-ranking generals who may have some information he may find useful."

"Isn't that what we are?"

"Flem, what it says on our orders-which are signed by Harry Truman-is that we are on a mission for him. I don't know about you, but I haven't had word from the President that I'm supposed to place myself at the disposal of this guy, just that he's coming."

Pickering didn't reply.

"What about you?" Howe pursued.

Pickering shook his head, "no."

"Harry Truman sent me here to do a job for him-this isn't Ralph Howe's ego in high gear-and I don't think I can do that job if Harriman thinks I am-we are-just a couple of guys whose function is to assist him in his mis-sion. More important, that he can listen to what we have to say, and ignore it if it's not what he wants to hear."

"Yeah," Pickering said thoughtfully.

"I think the word is agenda" Howe said. "And I don't think ours is necessarily locked in step with his."

Pickering nodded.

"You know him well enough to call him by his first name?" Howe asked.

Pickering considered that a moment.

"Why not?"

"Do you ever call the Viceroy `Douglas'?"

"Not often," Pickering said. "Sometimes, on private oc-casions, when no one, not even his wife, is there, I do. I call her Jean, which greatly annoys the Palace Guard."

"When you mention the Viceroy in conversation tonight, refer to him as `Douglas,'" Howe said. "Are we agreed on this, Flem?"

Pickering nodded again.

Howe smiled.

"And I will manage at least several times to forget my status in life and refer to our President and Commander-in-Chief as `Harry,'" Howe said.

[THREE]

When Master Sergeant Charley Rogers, wearing khakis, and with his tie pulled down, answered the knock at the door, Major General Ralph Howe, USAR, Brigadier Gen-eral Fleming Pickering, USMCR, and Captain George F. Hart, all in their shirtsleeves, all looked toward it from the table at which they were sitting, playing poker.

"Gentlemen," Colonel Sidney Huff announced, "Am-bassador Harriman and General Ridgway."

"Come on in, Averell," Pickering called. "How was the flight?"

Harriman came into the room, and Pickering remembered what Howe had said about Harriman looking like the Chair-man of the Vestry: He was a tall, slim, balding man with sharp features. His eyebrows were full and almost startlingly black.

He walked toward the table, and Pickering and Howe rose to their feet.

"Good to see you, Fleming," Harriman said, offering his hand. "When we can have a moment alone, I have a mes-sage and a small package from Patricia."

"You know Ralph, don't you, Averell?" Pickering asked.

"Yes, of course," Harriman said. "How are you, General?"

General Matthew B. Ridgway was now in the room, walking toward the table. He was a large and muscular man, and when Pickering met his bright and intelligent eyes, he remembered what MacArthur had said about Ridgway being "one of the finest brains in the Army."

Colonel Sidney Huff and a lieutenant colonel carrying a briefcase and wearing the aiguillette of an aide-de-camp came in and stood by the door.

"It's good to see you again, sir," Howe said, offering his hand to Ridgway.

"How are you, Ralph?" Ridgway said.

"You don't know Pickering, do you?" Howe said.

"No, I don't," Ridgway said, offering Pickering his hand. "How do you do, General?"

"How do you do, sir?" Pickering said, and then turned to `Harriman: "Are you hungry, Averell? Did they feed you on the plane? A drink, perhaps?"

"I could use a little taste," Harriman said.

"General?" Pickering asked Ridgway.

"Please," Ridgway said. "I don't know what time it is according to my body clock, but it's obviously 1700 some-where."

"Charley," Howe ordered. "Fix drinks, please."

"George, call downstairs and have them send up a large order of hors d'oeuvres," Pickering ordered. "We'll decide about dinner later." He turned to Huff. "Come on in, Sid," he said.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Ridgway said. "This is Colonel James, my aide."

"We're trying to come up with a term to describe Charley and George," Howe said. "Charley was my first sergeant when I was commanding a company, and George-who is a captain of homicide when he's not a Marine-was with Flem all through the second war. He was with Flem on the first plane to land in Japan after the Emperor decided to sur-render."

"With your permission, sir, I will leave now, and report to the Supreme Commander that you have been safely de-livered here."

Ridgway made a gesture with his hand signifying he could leave.

"You have my number, Colonel, in case you need any-thing at all. And the car will be here from 0800," Huff added, to Ridgway's aide.

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Colonel James said.

Huff left.

"Sid's been Douglas's chief dog-robber forever," Picker-ing said. "No offense, Colonel."

"None taken, sir," James said, smiling. "I'm familiar with the term."

"Gentlemen..." Charley Rogers said, and they looked at him. He was at a sideboard loaded with whiskey bottles.

"Scotch for me, please," Harriman said.

"I'm a bourbon drinker," Ridgway said.

"Colonel?" Rogers asked James, who looked at Ridg-way for guidance.

"Jack usually drinks scotch," Ridgway said.

"Scotch it is," Rogers said.

"You were on the first plane, were you, Captain?" Ridg-way asked Hart.

"Yes, sir."

"That must have been interesting," Ridgway said.

"The streets from the airport were lined with Japanese- soldiers, sailors, and civilians standing side by side. They bowed as the car drove us here," Hart said. "Very interest-ing."

"I presume both you and Master Sergeant Rogers have all the security clearances required?" Ridgway asked.