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

"Can I ask why Yonghung-do first?" he asked, finally.

"If we took Taemuui-do first, the lieutenant on Yonghung-do would know it. If nothing else, he would hear the gunfire. And we'll probably have to use grenades if they put up much of a scrap. If he has a radio, he'd report that to the mainland. And then would probably try to send help to Taemuui-do, whether or not he got orders from the mainland. This way, we'll knock out the radio, if there is one, and the lieutenant, too. And from what I've seen of the North Koreans, the sergeants on the other islands aren't going to do anything without orders."

"Moving the Koreans over there without getting spotted is going to be tough, Killer," Zimmerman said. `Taylor's right. You can see a sail a long way off, and if they see two sailboats headed even for Taemuui-do, they're going to know something's up."

"Your militia's our second wave, Ernie," McCoy said. "They won't even put out from here until daylight. By then we should have taken Yonghung-do. They go ashore there and garrison it, and we head back this way, bypassing the little island, and take Taemuui-do. Then the Koreans garri-son that, and finally we take the little island."

"We leave just the Koreans on the islands?" Taylor asked.

"I think what Captain McCoy has in mind," Major Kim said, "is that if the North Koreans counterattack from the mainland, and do so successfully, they would not find any Americans."

McCoy nodded.

"When do we go, Killer?" Zimmerman asked.

"You got heavy plans for 0400 tomorrow that you can't break?"

[TWO]

PHOTOGRAPHIC LABORATORY

USS BADOENG STRAIT

35 DEGREES 48 MINUTES NORTH LATITUDE,

129 DEGREES 91 MINUTES EAST LONGITUDE

THE SEA OF JAPAN

1105 24 AUGUST 1950

"Hey, Mac," Chief Photographer's Mate Young called to Master Sergeant P. P. McGrory. "Have a look at this."

"What am I looking for?"

Chief Young pointed.

"RAD on one panel, IO on the other," he said. "See it?"

"Yeah. Radio."

"That's the guys on that island Colonel Dunn dropped the radio parts to," Chief Young said. "They probably broke their radio again."

"He'll want to see this," McGrory said. "Right away."

"They're about to launch aircraft," Young said.

McGrory grabbed the print from the table and left the photo lab on the run.

He was winded when he reached the flight deck.

"Where's Colonel Billy?" he shouted, over the roar of starting aircraft engines.

The mechanic pointed.

Dunn was standing at the wing root of his Corsair, being helped into his flight gear.

"This just out of the soup, Colonel," McGrory said, handing it to him.

Dunn took one look at the picture.

"Stick this in an envelope, give it to the COD driver, and tell him to get it to the Marine liaison officer as soon as possible. On the envelope, write Major William Dunston, Army Transportation Corps."

"Aye, aye, sir," McGrory said.

Dunn saw the look on his face.

"No, Mac," he said. "Sorry, you can't ask what that's all about."

[THREE]

THE DEWEY SUITE

THE IMPERIAL HOTEL

TOKYO, JAPAN

1525 24 AUGUST 1950

"I didn't expect to see you back so soon," Major General Ralph Howe said when Brigadier General Fleming Picker-ing knocked at his door. He was sitting in an armchair, feet on a bolster, reading the Stars and Stripes. "Come on in. Tell me what's going on."

"I didn't want to come back at all," Pickering said.

"Then why did you?"

"I've been asked to supper at the Residence," Pickering said.

"You are already famous as the only man in Japan who dares tell El Supremo `Sorry, I have a previous engage-ment,' " Howe said. It was an unspoken question.

"Two reasons, Ralph," Pickering said. "I didn't want him wondering what my previous engagement was, and second, I was following my father's-now my own-ad-vice about getting out of the way of the competent people who work for you, and letting them do their job."

"Have you had your twelve o'clock snort already? And if so, is half past three too early for your five o'clock?"

"No, and no," Pickering said. "Keep your seat, Ralph, I'll make them."

"Where's our usual bartender?"

"Somewhere in the East China Sea. I hope to know pre-cisely where in the East China Sea shortly after nine tonight," Pickering said.

"What have you got him doing there?" Howe asked.

"Right now, he's on the junk, headed for Tokchok-kundo," Pickering said. "It was the only thing we could think to do to find out what's happened on the island, and, presuming McCoy and company are there, and the problem is a malfunctioning radio, to get another to them."

"Why Hart?"

"Because he made the point that he could be better spared-we both knew he meant `is more expendable'- than Dunston, my station chief in Pusan," Pickering said, as he made their drinks. "Dunston was willing to go. George, with somewhat less than overwhelming tact for a captain speaking to his general, correctly pointed out that sending Dunston would be stupid."

He handed Howe his drink, and they touched glasses.

"What are you going to do if El Supremo asks you flat-out about this operation tonight? I suspect he's going to do just that."

"I've been thinking about that," Pickering said. "I guess-"

The door opened, and Master Sergeant Charley Rogers came in.

"I didn't know you were back, General. There's a Major Dunston on that back-channel telephone line from Pusan.

When they couldn't find you or Hart, he asked to speak to General Howe."

"Can I take it in here?"

"I don't think it makes much difference," Rogers said, more than a little bitterly. "There's a tap on all our lines."

He walked to the telephone, picked it up, said, "Put my call in here, please," and held the telephone out to Picker-ing.

"Dunston," Pickering said to the telephone, "I don't think this is a secure line."

"Yes, sir," Dunston said. "General, I'm looking at an aerial our friend Dunn sent us. It was taken early this morning. Can you guess where?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," Pickering said.

"The shot shows a panel on which someone has written 'radio,'" Dunston said. "It also shows, faintly, what looks like a man in black pajamas."

"Interesting," Pickering said.

"I thought you'd want to know, General."

"Thank you. Everything is ready on your end for 2100 tonight?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let me know as soon as you know anything, will you?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Thank you, Bill."

"Yes, sir," Dunston said, and the connection broke.

"Charley, is Sergeant Keller handy?"

"I'll get him, General," Rogers said, and left the room.

"Good news?" Howe asked.

"Very good," Pickering said.

"About your son?" Howe asked.

"No. The best news I have about Pick is that Dunston says he's pretty sure Pick is not a POW."

"What was that call?"

Master Sergeant Keller came into the room.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need a message to go-it doesn't have to be classi-fied, but send it Urgent, Immediate Personal Attention of Lieutenant Colonel William Dunn, aboard the Badoeng Strait."

"Yes, sir?"

"Message is, quote, Many thanks. Radio is on the way. Signature, Pickering, Brigadier General, USMC, unquote. Got it?"

"I'll get it right out, sir," Keller said.

Pickering turned to Howe.

"One of the aerials Colonel Dunn took this morning of Tokchok-kundo shows a panel on which the word 'radio' is written," Pickering said.

"Then maybe-presuming Charley is right, and I'm afraid he is, and someone was listening to your phone con-versation-El Supremo will think it had to do with looking for your son."

"Oh, to hell with it, Ralph. If he asks me, I'm going to tell him," Pickering said.

[FOUR]

ABOARD WIND OF GOOD FORTUNE