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

"Yes, it is."

"How can I help without-how do I phrase this deli-cately?-without exposing my scrotum to the butcher's ax on the chopping block to the degree you are?"

"Taylor," Pickering said. "Tell the admiral what you need."

"Two small boats, sir, lifeboats would do. Capable of carrying eight or ten men and their equipment. Preferably with an auxiliary engine-"

"No problem," the admiral interrupted.

"-delivered as soon as possible as near as possible to Tokchok-kundo," Taylor finished.

"Ah!" the admiral said.

He looked around for his drink, found it, took a sip, and then frowned.

"Fitz, when is Charity due to leave Sasebo?" he asked, finally.

"At first light on the sixteenth, sir."

"Round figures, she should be able to make twenty knots easily; it's about five hundred miles to Inchon. That would put her off the Flying Fish Channel lighthouse twenty-four hours later. At first light, and I don't think Mr. Taylor wants to do this in the daylight."

The admiral paused, and everyone waited for him to go on.

"Signal the yardmaster at Sasebo that (one) I should be seriously distressed to hear Charity didn't make that at-first-light departure schedule, and (two) before she sails, he is to mount on her two ten-man open boats with functioning auxiliary engines-emphasize functioning-in such a manner that they may be launched quickly on the high seas."

"Yes, sir."

"And when he inquires, as he doubtless will, what in the hell is going on, as politely as you can, hint that I have been at the gin again, and you haven't an idea what it's all about."

"Yes, sir."

The admiral turned to Taylor.

"HMS Charity is a destroyer. Before she leaves Sasebo to return to her blockade duty in the Yellow Sea, I will have a private word with her captain-or Fitz will, he's his brother-in-law and that might attract less attention-telling him, (one) that two Americans will board her as super-cargo on the night of August fifteenth, for a purpose to be revealed to no one but him until after she is under way, and (two) that he is to authorized to make whatever speed is necessary to put Charity three miles off the Flying Fish Channel lighthouse not later than 0300 17 August, where he will put the boats and the Americans over the side."

He paused again.

"This all presumes that nothing will go awry," he went on, "as it almost certainly will. But it is the best I can do under the circumstances. Will that be satisfactory?"

"I don't know how to thank you, Admiral," Pickering said.

"One way would be to make sure that when Charity starts down the Flying Fish Channel on fifteen September, the lighthouse will be operating, and she will not come un-der artillery fire."

Chapter Eighteen

[ONE]

HANEDA AIRFIELD

TOKYO, JAPAN

1530 15 AUGUST 1950

There were seven officers-the senior of them a captain and eleven enlisted men-ranging in rank from, technical sergeant to corporal-in USMC Platoon Aug9-2 (Provi-sional). The platoon was the second of two that had been organized at the Replacement Battalion (Provisional) at Camp Joseph J. Pendleton, California, six days before, on August 9. All of the members of Aug9-2 were Marine re-servists, involuntarily called to active duty by order of the President of the United States for the duration of the pres-ent conflict, plus six months, unless sooner released for the convenience of the government.

Both platoons had the same purpose, to get replace-ments to the First Marine Brigade (Provisional) in Pusan, South Korea, as expeditiously as possible. The size of Aug9-2 had been determined by the number of seats avail-able on Trans-Global Airways Flight 1440, San Francisco to Tokyo, with intermediate stops at Honolulu, Hawaii, and Wake Island.

Platoon Aug9-2 had been formed at 0715 in the morn-ing, and had departed Camp Pendleton by Greyhound Bus for San Francisco at 0755. Travel was in utilities. The trip took a little more than ten hours, including a thirty-minute stop for a hamburger-and-Coke lunch outside Los Angeles.

There was just time enough at the airfield in San Fran-cisco for the members of Aug9-2 to make a brief telephone call to their families. Most of them did so, and although each member of Aug9-2 had been admonished not to in-form their family members of their destination until they reached it, with the exception of one officer, a second lieu-tenant, all of them told their family members they were in San Francisco about to get on an airplane for Tokyo and eventually South Korea.

Why the hell not? Who did the goddamn Crotch think it was fooling? What was the big goddamn secret? Where else would the goddamn Crotch be sending people except to goddamn Korea?

The flight aboard Trans-Global Airways Flight 1440 was a pleasant surprise. It was a glistening-apparently not long from the assembly line-Lockheed Constellation. There was a plaque mounted on the bulkhead just inside the door, stating that on June 1,1950, the City of Los Ange-les had set the record for the fastest flight time between San Francisco and Tokyo.

The seats were comfortable, the stewardesses good-looking and charming. Almost as soon as they were in the air, the stewardesses came by asking for drink orders. Drinks were complimentary.

One of the staff sergeants of Aug9-2, who three weeks before had been a maritime insurance adjuster in Seattle, and often flew to Honolulu on Trans-Global and other airlines, was surprised that Trans-Global was passing out free booze in tourist class, and asked about it.

"I don't really know," she said. "I heard something that the president of the company was a Marine, or something. All I know is that all our military passengers get compli-mentary refreshments."

The military passengers in tourist class also got the same meal-filet mignon, baked potato, and a choice of wine-that was being served in first class. The civilians in the back got a chicken leg and no wine.

Still, with the fuel stops in Hawaii and Wake Island, it was a hell of a long flight to Tokyo, and all of Aug9-2 got off the plane at Haneda on 12 August tired, needing a bath and a shave, and in many cases, more than a little hung-over.

They were taken by U.S. Army bus to Camp Drake, out-side Tokyo, for processing, which included a review of the inoculation records; their service record; an opportunity for those who didn't have it to take out an insurance policy that would pay their survivors $10,000 in the case of their death; zeroing their individual weapons; issuance of 782 gear and a basic load of ammunition; and two hour-long lectures.

One of the lectures, by an Army captain, told them what they could expect to find, in a military sense, once they got to Korea. It surprised none of them, for they had all read the newspapers.

The goddamned Army was getting the shit kicked out of it, and-what else?-had turned to the goddamn U.S. Ma-rine Crotch to save its ass.

The second lecture, by a Navy chaplain, told them what they could expect to find in Korea in a sexually-transmitted-diseases sense. It included a twenty-minute color motion picture of individuals in the terminal stages of syphilis, and of other individuals whose genitalia were covered with suppurating scabs.

At 1200 15 August 1950, Marine Corps Platoon Aug9-2 (Provisional) was fed a steak-and-eggs luncheon, causing many of its members to quip cleverly that the condemned men were getting the traditional hearty last meal.

Then they were loaded on an Army bus that took them back to the Haneda Airfield. There, they were told, they would board a Naval Air Transport Command Douglas R5D, which would depart at 1400, and after several inter-mediate stops-Osaka, Kobe, and Sasebo-would deposit them at K-l Airfield, Pusan, South Korea, where they would be met by a Marine liaison officer who would get them to the First Marine Brigade (Provisional), where Aug9-2 would be disestablished, and they would be as-signed billets in the brigade according to the needs of the brigade at the moment.