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

There were, of course, no refreshments of any kind aboard NATS Flight 2022, except for a water Thermos mounted on the wall. But there was an illuminated fasten seat belts sign, and when, several minutes into the flight, he had seen the light go off, Captain Howard C. Dunwood, USMCR, the commanding officer of USMC Platoon Aug9-2 (Provisional), had unfastened his seat belt and walked down the short aisle to the seats in which the two candy-asses in their neatly pressed uniforms were sitting.

He squatted in the aisle, smiled, and put out his hand.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Howard Dunwood."

"How are you?" McCoy said.

"You don't look like you're going to Korea."

"No, we're not," McCoy said.

"I sort of didn't think so," Dunwood said. "No weapons, and the wrong kind of uniform."

McCoy didn't reply.

"Stationed in Japan, are you? I couldn't help but notice the lady. Your wife, was she? Maybe the general's daugh-ter?"

"What's on your mind, Captain?" McCoy asked.

"I'm just a little curious about you," Dunwood said. "We're both Marine officers, right?"

"Okay, we're both Marine officers."

"Well, I was just wondering what the hell you're doing in Japan that's so important they hold up a plane taking Marines to Korea for more than an hour to wait for you."

"Captain, you've had a couple of drinks," McCoy said. "Why don't you go back to your seat and sleep them off before you get to Korea?"

"And why should I do that, you candy-ass sonofabitch?"

And then Captain Dunwood yelped in pain, and ex-claimed, "Goddamn you!"

Taylor, who had been studiously ignoring the exchange between the two Marine officers-by looking out the win-dow, from which he could see Mount Fuji-now snapped his head toward the aisle, and saw that McCoy had grabbed the index finger of the captain who had been squatting in the aisle looking for a fight, moved it behind his back, and forced him from his squatting position to his knees.

"Okay. I'm a candy-ass and you're drunk," McCoy said. "Agreed?"

"Fuck you, candy-ass!"

Captain Dunwood then yelped in pain again, almost a shriek.

"Agreed?" McCoy asked.

"Agreed, Okay. Agreed. Let go of my finger!"

Two other officers of Aug9-2 came down the aisle.

"What the hell?" one of them-a large lieutenant, who looked like a football tackle-asked.

McCoy let go of Dunwood's finger. Dunwood looked at the finger McCoy had held, then moved it, then yelped, not so loud this time, in pain.

`Take the captain back to his seat and make sure he stays there," McCoy ordered.

"What the hell happened?"

"Nothing happened. Just put him back in his seat before something does."

"Well, Okay," the large lieutenant answered, a little re-luctantly.

" `Well, Okay'? Is that the way you acknowledge an or-der?" McCoy snapped.

"No, sir. Aye, aye, sir."

The two lieutenants helped Dunwood to his feet-he was still staring at his hand in disbelief-and started him down the aisle.

"Jesus Christ," Taylor asked. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Nobody likes a candy-ass," McCoy said. "And you and I, to a bunch of Marines headed for Korea, look like candy-asses."

"Did you really break his finger?"

"I started to disjoint it," McCoy said, matter-of-factly. "It'll probably go back in by itself. If it doesn't, any corps-man can put it back in place."

"Jesus," Taylor said, chuckling.

"We were talking about how to hide the lifeboats, I think," McCoy said.

[TWO]

U.S. NAVY BASE SASEBO

SASEBO, KYUSHU, JAPAN

1740 15 AUGUST 1950

Lieutenant Commander Darwin Jones-Fortin, RN, who was well over six feet tall, obviously weighed no more than 145 pounds, and was wearing a white open-collared shirt, white shorts, and white knee-high stockings, was standing outside the passenger terminal when McCoy and Taylor came down the ladder.

"I think that's our captain," Taylor said softly, as he started down the stairs.

"Let's hope my friend doesn't see him," McCoy said.

"If he's commanding a destroyer, he's no candy-ass," Taylor said.

"Appearances are often deceiving," McCoy said. "Didn't you ever hear that?"

When he saw Taylor and McCoy come down the ladder, Captain Darwin-Jones walked toward them from the pas-senger terminal and met them halfway.

"I suspect you two gentlemen are my supercargo," he said. "My name is Jones-Fortin."

"My name is Taylor, Captain," Taylor said, returning the salute and putting out his hand. "And this is Captain Mc-Coy."

"Delighted to meet you both," Jones-Fortin said. "Cap-tain, there's a Marine sergeant in there..."

Jones-Fortin nodded toward the terminal building.

"... who asked if I was from Charity. I thought it a bit odd."

"Captain McCoy and I were just discussing the best way to bring this up to you, Captain," Taylor said.

"Let me make a stab in the dark," Jones-Fortin said. "You would like to bring him and that mountain of what-ever that is"-he nodded his head toward a stack of crates and a camouflage net sitting next to the small passenger terminal-"wherever you're going."

McCoy smiled.

"You don't know where we're going, Captain?" he asked.

"I was under the impression that it was a military se-cret," Jones-Fortin said.

"Yes, we really would, sir," Taylor said. "Will that be possible?"

"I've had a chance to think about that," Jones-Fortin said. "I believe it falls within my orders from Admiral Matthews to make Charity as useful as possible."

"Thank you, Captain," Taylor said. "That's a large weight off our shoulders."

"I made discreet inquiries," Jones-Fortin said. "There are apparently three Marines in addition to the one I spoke with."

"Let me see what's going on, sir," McCoy said, and started toward the terminal.

As he did, Technical Sergeant J. M. Jennings, USMC, came out and saluted.

"Well, I see you made it here," McCoy said.

"It was easy, Captain," Jennings replied. "There's a lot of transports leaving K-l empty that come here..."

"I know," McCoy said, smiling. "How'd you know about the Charity?"

"I went out to the wharfs," Jennings said. "And there was this Limey destroyer, and swabbies lashing a couple of lifeboats to her."

"You are a clever man, Sergeant Jennings," McCoy said. "And where're the other guys?"

"In the Metropole Hotel, sir. I thought it better to get them off the base."

"How'd you know about the hotel?"

"I was here before, sir, in `48. I was the gunny of the Marines on board the Midway."

"Okay. Come with me, I'll introduce you to the captain of the Charity. And don't use the word `Limey.'"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Ah, yes," Lieutenant Commander Jones-Fortin said, "the Hotel Metropole. If I may make a suggestion, gentlemen?"

"Of course, sir," Taylor said.

"Your people here were kind enough to provide me with a lorry. A weapons carrier, I believe you call them?"

"Yes, sir."

"I propose that we load your materiel onto the lorry. I think it will hold it all. Then we will drop you gentlemen and the sergeant off at the Metropole. Then I will have the materiel loaded aboard Charity. When it is dark, I will have you picked up at the Metropole. I would be pleased if you were to join me for dinner at the Officers' Club, and after that, we can board Charity."

"That's fine, Captain, except that we insist you be our guest at dinner," Taylor said.

"We can argue that later," Jones-Fortin said. "Shall we deal with whatever it is?"

[THREE]

There was a neatly lettered sign mounted on the wall next to the reception desk in the Hotel Metropole.

IMPORTANT NOTICE !!!

ALL LADIES USED IN THE HOTEL

MUST BE

PROVIDED BY THE MANAGEMENT!!!

NO EXCEPTIONS

THANK YOU. THE MANAGEMENT

Technical Sergeant J. M. Jennings, USMC, opened the door to Room 215 and bellowed, "Ah-ten-hut on deck!" just before Captain McCoy and Lieutenant Taylor marched in.