Griffin W.E.B. - The Corps 08 - In Dangers Path

Admiral Wagam was wearing a crisp, immaculate, pure white, high-collared dress uniform. Also attired in snow-white dress uniforms were the other Naval persons on the patio: Lieutenant Lewis; Commander Florence Kocharski Oblensky, NC, USN; and even Chief Carpenter's Mate Peter T. McGuire, of the Naval Reserve. When Commander Houser last saw Chief McGuire—two hours before, as the chief left the

Sunfish

—he was naked except for a pair of torn-off-above-the-knees khaki trousers and a pair of rubber-and-canvas sneakers.

The Marine contingent—Major Jake Dillon, Captain Charles Galloway, and Master Gunner Big Steve Oblensky—was also magnificently attired in dress white uniforms.

«Good evening, Admiral,» Commander Houser said.

«Came right from the boat, did you, Houser?» Admiral Wagam asked.

«If I have kept the Admiral waiting, sir…«

«You didn't know I was coming,» Wagam said. «I didn't know I was coming myself until Commander Kocharski called at 1500.»

«Good evening, Commander,» Lieutenant Commander Houser said.

«I thought we all needed a little party,» Flo said. «You guys have been working around the clock.»

«I apologize for my appearance, sir,» Houser said.

«Your appearance? I thought all submariners look that way,» Admiral Wagam said, visibly pleased with his sense of humor.

A white-jacketed steward appeared with a tray of drinks. «Bourbon in the red glasses, Commander,» he said. «Scotch in the green. Or whatever you want, sir.»

«A little bourbon will do just fine, thank you very much,» Commander Houser said gratefully.

«The Chief,» Admiral Wagam said, «has just been telling me he anticipates no trouble at all in the dry run tomorrow.»

«We think, sir, we have everything under control,» Houser said. «But it's nice to have Chief McGuire's vote of confidence.»

«Don't mention it,» Chief McGuire said graciously.

Captain Galloway, in the midst of taking a swallow of his drink, suddenly found himself coughing.

«What I'm going to do tomorrow.» McGuire went on. «is just get out of the way, and let your boys do the whole thing themselves.»

«You think we can safely take that risk?» Houser asked, unable to restrain his sarcasm, which sailed six feet over Chief McGuire's head.

«Well, if they screw up, I'll be there to set them straight,» Chief McGuire said. «I was about to say that I won't be there when they do it for real, but I've been thinking about that. I've just about decided I'd better go along when you go on the real thing.»

«You've decided that, have you, Pete?» Big Steve Oblensky asked.

«Just about. I mean, what the hell, this is supposed to be damned important. Why take a chance?»

«Why indeed?» Admiral Wagam said. «Have you ever been aboard a submarine, Chief?»

«No, but I'm a deepwater sailor, Admiral.»

Captain Galloway had a second fit of coughing.

«Tell me. Chief,» Admiral Wagam said, «how do you define 'deepwater sailor'?»

Chief McGuire looked at the Admiral as if he thought an admiral should know how to define a deepwater sailor.

«Admiral, Chief McGuire,» Major Dillon answered for him, «was Errol Flynn's relief captain of choice when he had to leave his yacht someplace.»

«Really? You're a real sailor then, Chief?» the Admiral said. «I've seen pictures of that yacht. A sloop, as I recall?»

Chief McGuire looked at him without the faintest spark of comprehension.

«How many masts?» Admiral Wagam pursued.

«Two, I think,» McGuire said after a moment's thought. «No, three. Two in front and one in back. Errol had people who took care of that. I steered and handled the engine.»

«Well, let me say, Chief,» Admiral Wagam said, «that I think the Navy is fortunate to have someone like you.» He immediately regretted saying it. There was a strange look in McGuire's eyes, as if he had finally realized they were making fun of him.

I

don't want him to think that, although we were all guilty of it

.

«Both Major Dillon and Mr. Oblensky have told me, Chief,» Admiral Wagam went on seriously, «that the

Sunfish

wouldn't be going to sea tomorrow had it not been for your solving the fuel-transfer problems on the Catalina.»

«I've never seen anybody better at welding aluminum,» Big Steve chimed in.

Admiral Wagam was genuinely pleased to see the hurt look disappear from

McGuire's eyes. «So actually. Chief,» he went on. «You're the reason we can have this party tonight. You've given me genuine cause to celebrate.»

«Sir?» McGuire asked.

«Whenever a problem that CINCPAC asks me about twice a day is solved, I feel justified in celebrating.»

«Chief,» Commander Houser heard himself say, «if you want to come with us when we go into the Yellow Sea, we'll be glad to have you aboard.»

I'll be damned

, he thought, I

actually mean that

.

«So ordered,» Admiral Wagam said. «Chambers, you'll see he gets some Momsen lung training?»

«Aye, aye, sir,» Lieutenant Lewis said.

«And this is my contribution, Chief,» Commander Kocharski said, picking up her purse and coming out with two six-inch-tall medicine bottles, one filled with small yellow pills, the other with small white pills.

«What is this stuff?» McGuire asked, taking the bottles, which bore «US NAVAL HOSPITAL Pearl Harbor» prescription labels with his name on them.

«They affect the inner ear,» Commander Kocharski said very seriously. «Take one of each before boarding the

Sunfish

, one of each every six hours thereafter, and one—or two, if you think it necessary—the moment you start to feel a little queasy.»

«Well, gee, Flo, thank you,» McGuire said, visibly touched. «But it's really not necessary. I'm not going to get seasick. I have no problem with boats. It's airplanes that get me.»

«Really?» Admiral Wagam asked.

«All I have to do is look at one of the sonsofbitches, Admiral,» Chief McGuire explained. «And I start getting sick.»

«You take those with you, Chief,» Commander Kocharski said. «That's an order.»

«Okay, Flo,» Chief McGuire replied. «Whatever you say.»

None of the officers present, all but one of whom were career officers of the Naval Service, felt it necessary to point out to Chief McGuire that the correct response to an order was either «Aye, aye, sir» or «Aye, aye, ma'am.»

note 79

Kiangpeh, Chungking, China

0915 11 April 1943

«Who's there?» Brigadier General Fleming Pickering called in answer to a knock at the door.

«Bell Telephone,» Brigadier General H. A. Albright replied, as he pushed the door open.

He had a battered, French-style telephone in one hand, a leather-cased U.S. Army EE-8 field telephone in the other, and a second EE-8 was hanging around his neck on its strap.

«What the hell are you doing?»

«Dazzling my telephone sergeant,» Albright said. «He can now spread the word that the General actually knows how to hook up a field phone, and hasn't forgotten how to strap on climbers and go up a pole.»

«You really climbed a pole?»

«Three of them,» Albright said. «The one inside your wall, the one just outside your wall, and the one down the street. If the line in here is tapped, they're doing it someplace else. It may not be tapped at all, but I would not regard this magnificent instrument as anything close to a secure telephone line.»

He held up the ancient French-style telephone.

«I didn't know generals did this sort of thing,» Pickering said.

«Basic rule of leadership, General,» Albright said, smiling. «Have your subordinates convinced that you can do anything you tell them to do at least as well as they can.»