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

"You start unloading the mail," Commander McDavit ordered. "And I'll see about getting us a Jeep or some-thing."

"Right," Orwell said.

The proper response to an order was "Aye, aye, sir," but Orwell was a good kid, and meant no disrespect, so Mc-Davit decided to let it pass.

Somewhere on K-l was a small Navy detachment charged with dealing with the mail. It came from San Diego-sometimes San Francisco-on a Navy R5D. R5Ds could not land on "Jeep" carriers such as the Sicily and the Badoeng Strait, so a COD Avenger had to fly to K-l and pick it up.

Commander McDavit was directed to the fleet post of-fice detachment, told "sorry, no Jeep," and walked to it, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get the Bado-eng Strait's outgoing mailbags from the Avenger to the FPO, and the incoming mailbags from the FPO to the Avenger, without a Jeep.

There was a Marine captain, in utilities, leaning on an Army Jeep in front of the FPO. A Garand rifle was hanging from its strap, hooked on the corner of the windshield.

The Marine captain stood straight and saluted.

"You're the COD from the Badoeng Strait?" the Marine captain asked.

"Right."

"I need a ride out to her, Commander," the Marine said.

"You're reporting aboard?"

"Not exactly," the Marine captain said, and showed Mc-Davit a set of orders from SCAP, signed by some Army three-star general, saying he was authorized to go just about any place he wanted to go.

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Captain," McDavit said. "You help me get the mailbags I brought from the Badoeng Strait here, and the mailbags that are going to the Badoeng Strait out to my airplane, and if I have the weight left, I'll take you out."

"I'll help you with the mail," the Marine captain said, as he produced another set of orders, this one-Jesus Christ!- signed by the Commander-in-Chief himself, "but if it's a question of me or the mail going, the mail will have to wait."

[THREE]

THE USS BADOENG STRAIT

35 DEGREES 60 MINUTES NORTH LATITUDE,

130 DEGREES 52 MINUTES EAST LONGITUDE

THE SEA OF JAPAN

1945 4 AUGUST 1950

"Badoeng, Badoeng, Niner Four at 5,000, five miles east. I have Badoeng in sight."

"Niner Four, Recovery operations under way. You are number two to land after an F4-U on final approach."

"Roger, I have him in sight. Badoeng, be advised I have aboard a passenger traveling on Presidential orders."

"Say again, Niner Four?"

"Be advised I have aboard a passenger traveling on Presidential orders."

Commander McDavit set his Avenger down on Badoeng Strait's deck more or less smoothly, and the hook caught the second cable, which caused the aircraft to decelerate very rapidly.

Which caused Captain Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR, to utter a vulgarity instantly followed by an obscenity, and then a blasphemy.

There were no windows in the passenger/cargo area of the Avenger, and very little light. The seat faced the rear, which had produced a certain feeling of unease in Captain McCoy, especially during the last few moments of Com-mander McDavit's landing approach, during which he had abruptly moved the aircraft to the right, and then even more abruptly to the left, and then raised the nose sharply in the second before he touched down.

Captain McCoy was recovering from this traumatic ex-perience when the hatch in the fuselage suddenly opened, filling the interior with brilliant light from the setting sun. It took Captain McCoy's eyes a long moment to adjust to the change in light intensity, but when they had, he saw a Marine corporal, in dress blue trousers, khaki shirt, and brimmed cap with white cover, standing at attention by the door, his right arm raised in a rigid salute.

Captain McCoy unstrapped his harness and started to go through the hatch, then remembered the National Match Garand and backed into the passenger/cargo compartment to unstrap it.

When he finally passed through the door and stood in the bright sunlight of the deck, he saw that he was being met by a welcoming party. There was a Navy lieutenant, in the prescribed regalia identifying him as the officer of the deck. There was also a commander, a lieutenant com-mander, a Marine lieutenant colonel-wearing aviator's wings-and a Marine staff sergeant.

What's going on? Who the hell are all these people?

The Badoeng Strait's captain, having been advised that an officer traveling on Presidential orders was about to come aboard, and not knowing that it was a lowly jarhead captain, had ordered that the distinguished guest be greeted with appropriate ceremony, and sent the Badoeng Strait's executive officer, the senior Marine officer aboard, and the two Marine orderlies on duty to do so.

Captain McCoy remembered the protocol.

He saluted the officer of the deck.

"Permission to come aboard, sir?"

"Granted."

McCoy faced aft and saluted the national colors, then faced left and saluted the Navy commander and the Marine lieutenant colonel, who returned his salute.

"Welcome aboard, sir," the officer of the deck declared. "May I ask to see the captain's orders, sir?"

This time, McCoy decided, the White House orders first.

He handed them to the officer of the deck, who read them, then handed them to the executive officer, who read them, handed them to the Marine lieutenant colonel, who read them and handed them back.

"The captain's compliments, Captain," the executive offi-cer said. "The captain asks that you join him on the bridge."

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said.

A little parade was formed and marched to the island, entered it, and then wended its way up several ladders to the bridge.

The Badoeng Strait's captain rose from his swivel chair when he saw the little parade file onto the bridge.

"Captain McCoy, Captain," the executive officer said, "who is traveling under authority of the President."

The captain looked amused.

"Welcome aboard, Captain," he said. "What can we do for you?" and then, before McCoy could reply, he added: "I've never seen Presidential orders."

McCoy handed him the White House orders.

"Very interesting," he said. "How can we help you, Cap-tain?"

"Sir, I'm going to need some aerial photos of the Inchon area," McCoy said. "Updated every day or two."

"I'm sure Colonel Unger can handle that," the captain said, nodding at the Marine lieutenant colonel.

"Just tell me what you need," Lieutenant Colonel Unger said, and stepped to McCoy and offered his hand.

"Anything else?" the captain asked.

"I'd like a few minutes with Lieutenant Colonel Dunn, sir," McCoy said.

The captain turned to the Marine corporal.

"My compliments to Colonel Dunn," he said. "Would he please join me immediately in my sea cabin?"

"Aye, aye, sir," the Marine corporal said, and marched off the bridge.

"You have the conn, sir," the captain said to the officer of the deck, then turned to McCoy. "Why don't we go to my cabin, Captain? You look as if you could use a cup of cof-fee and somewhere to sit down."

"Thank you, sir."

"And since I doubt you'll need it in my cabin, may I suggest you give the sergeant your rifle for the time be-ing?"

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said, and handed it over. Then he had another thought. "You better unload it, Sergeant," he said.

Lieutenant Colonel William C. Dunn, USMC, stood at the open door of the Badoeng Strait's captain's sea cabin until the captain saw him, and motioned him inside.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"This officer wants to see you," the captain said, nod-ding at McCoy. "Captain McCoy, this is Colonel Dunn."

"I know the captain, sir. How are you, Ken?"

"Colonel," McCoy said, taking Dunn's proffered hand.

"Captain McCoy needs some photographs of islands in the Flying Fish Channel off Inchon," the captain said. "And he has a very interesting authority directing us to make them for him-the Commander-in-Chief."