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

"Sir, my wife expects me to be coming back to the ho-tel."

"Call her and tell her that's on hold; I'll explain every-thing when I see you."

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said, and broke the connection with his finger. He looked at Matthews. "How do I get an outside line? I have to call `Diego."

"Captain, that phone's for official business."

"You're an interesting man, mister," McCoy said. "Most master gunners I know are anything but chickenshit." He paused. "What do I do? Dial operator?"

"Nine," Master Gunner Matthews said.

McCoy called Ernie and told her something had come up, and he would be delayed; he could call when he knew something.

Matthews took the telephone from McCoy and started to dial.

"You are not to inform Major Macklin that I have spo-ken to Colonel Brewer. You understand that? That was an order," McCoy said.

"Aye, aye, sir," Master Gunner Matthews said, finished dialing, and when Major Macklin answered, informed him that Captain McCoy was in the office.

He hung up the phone and looked at McCoy.

"Major Macklin, sir, says that you are not to leave the office until he gets here."

"Okay," McCoy said.

"Captain, I'm just following my orders."

"I understand."

"Major Macklin led me to understand that you know each other," Matthews said.

"Then you probably have had a fascinating recital of my time in the Corps," McCoy said. "Yes, mister, Major Macklin and I know each other very well."

Matthews met McCoy's eyes.

"Corporal," he ordered. "Get the captain a cup of cof-fee."

Major Robert B. Macklin, USMC, and Lieutenant Colonel Peter S. Brewer showed up in the office within three min-utes of each other, Macklin first. Macklin was in full uni-form.

"Attention on deck!" Master Gunner Matthews bel-lowed when Macklin came through the door.

He, McCoy, and the corporal popped to attention.

"As you were," Macklin said. He walked up to McCoy.

"Where the hell have you been, McCoy?"

"Sir, I have been on ordinary leave."

"I spent several hours on the telephone in a fruitless search for you," Macklin said.

McCoy didn't reply.

"Get Colonel Brewer on the telephone for me," Macklin ordered.

Master Gunner Matthews dialed a number.

After a long moment, looking at McCoy, Matthews re-ported, "Sir, there is no answer."

"Try it again," Macklin ordered, and then turned back to McCoy. "My orders are to notify Colonel Brewer the mo-ment I have located you."

"Yes, sir."

"In the event I am unable to reach him tonight, I have no intention of letting you out of sight again," Macklin said. "Mister Matthews, is there a cot here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Am I to understand, Major, that I'm under some sort of restriction? Am I under arrest?"

"What you are, Captain, is ordered not to leave this room until I establish contact with Colonel Brewer. I don't know what you've done now, McCoy, but I hope they throw the book at you."

"Yes, sir," McCoy said.

"Attention on deck," Master Gunner Matthews bel-lowed, as Lieutenant Colonel Brewer came through the door.

Colonel Brewer was wearing Bermuda shorts and a red T-shirt with a gold representation of the Marine emblem covering most of the chest.

"As you were," Brewer said. He turned to Macklin. "That will be all, Macklin," he said. "You can go home now. Sorry to have to have ruined your evening, but this was important."

McCoy looked between Macklin and Matthews.

"Sir," he said. "Mister Matthews had the duty. Major Macklin just got here."

"That's very interesting," Brewer said. "Between now and 0800, Macklin, try to come up with a good reason for your not being here until Captain McCoy showed up as you were ordered to do."

"Sir..."

"I'll hear your reasons at 0800. You are dismissed."

"Aye, aye, sir," Macklin said, and with as much dignity as he could muster, came to attention, did a left-face move-ment, and walked out of the building.

"Sir, can I ask what's going on?" McCoy asked.

"I hardly know where to begin," Brewer said. "But first things first: Matthews, in this order, call General Dawkins at his quarters and tell him Captain McCoy has shown up, and then call Colonel Wade and tell him the same thing and that General Dawkins has been notified."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Attention on deck!" Master Gunner Matthews bellowed, as Brigadier General Clyde W. Dawkins came into the building.

"As you were," General Dawkins said.

He crossed the room to Captain McCoy.

"Goddamn, Killer, where have you been?" he said, and then he wrapped his arms around him. "Christ, it's good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too, sir," McCoy said.

"Let me start with the good news. You're not getting the boot. The bad news is that I'm ordered to get you to Wash-ington as soon as possible. To that end, an Air Force F-94-that's a two-seater jet-has been waiting for you at Miramar for the last three days."

"Sir, my wife is at the Coronado Beach...."

"I'm a general now, Killer, indulge me," Dawkins said. "Let me finish before you start arguing with me."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Your orders are to report here for duty," Dawkins said, and handed him a three-by-five card.

Director's Office

East Building,

2430 E Street

Washington, D.C.

"Sir, I don't know what this is," McCoy said.

"That's the CIA complex," Dawkins said. "The person you are to report to is Brigadier General Fleming Picker-ing."

Dawkins saw the look of surprise on McCoy's face.

"Yeah, I thought that was interesting, too."

"What's going on?" McCoy asked.

Dawkins threw his hands up helplessly.

"That's all I know, Killer. Honestly."

"Sir, my wife's at the Coronado Beach."

"So you said."

"And we drove all day to get here."

"Okay. You made your point," Dawkins said. He turned to Master Gunner Matthews. "Mister, is there a message form in that desk?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to dictate a message, which you will then type, and the corporal will then take to the message cen-ter."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Matthews picked up a pencil and took a lined pad from the desk.

"Priority, Urgent," Dawkins dedicated. "From Deputy CG, Camp Pendleton. To Headquarters USMC, personal attention, the Commandant. Copy to Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMC. Captain Kenneth McCoy, USMC, will depart Miramar NAS aboard USAF F-94 air-craft 0800 30 June ETA Andrews AFB NLT 1600 30 June signature Dawkins, BrigGen, USMC. Got it?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Captain McCoy," Dawkins said.

"Yes, sir?"

"It is the desire of the deputy commanding general that you and your lovely wife take breakfast with him and his lovely wife at 0630 tomorrow at the Coronado Beach. Af-ter which, you will be transported to the Miramar NAS to comply with your orders. Can you fit that into your busy schedule?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, considering the hour, Captain, I suggest you get moving."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"At the risk of repeating myself, Killer, I don't know what you're up to now, I don't care what you're up to now. But it's damned good to see you."

"Thank you, sir."

Chapter Six

Q: Mr. President, everybody is asking in this country, are we or are we not at war? The President: We are not at war. The members of the United Nations are going to the relief of the Korean republic to suppress a bandit raid on the Republic of Korea.

Q: Would it be correct under your explanation to call this "a police action under the United Na-tions"?

The President: Yes, that is exactly what it amounts to.

EXCERPT FROM PRESIDENTIAL PRESS CONFERENCE,

BLAIR HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.

30 JUNE I95O

[ONE]

OFFICE OF THE COMMANDANT, USMC

WASHINGTON, D.C.

1430 30 JUNE 1950