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

«Yes, sir.» Hart chuckled.

«If anybody at Eighth and I, or at the OSS, asks you what you know about Easterbrook, you know nothing.»

«Yes, sir. Off the record, sir?

«Yeah, sure.»

«I approve, and so will Pick when he hears,» Hart said. «He was really worried about the Easterbunny going back over there and getting himself killed trying to prove he's really a Marine officer.»

The door opened again; this time it was Fred. «Anytime you're ready, General,» he called.

«We're ready now,» Pickering said.

note 31

Headquarters, United States Marine Corps

Eighth and I Streets, N.W.

Washington, D.C.

0955 25 February 1943

The Marine guards at the gate of the compound were armed with pistols suspended from web belts. They were also wearing steel helmets, the new style. Pickering thought of this as «German style,» as opposed to the old style, which General Pickering had worn both in France and on Guadalcanal and thought of as «Limey style.»

He also thought that wearing helmets here was a little absurd. Their primary purpose was to protect the skull from artillery and mortar shrapnel, or from pieces of exploded antiaircraft shells falling back to earth. And none of that was liable to happen right now in the District of Columbia.

Fowler's 1942 Packard 280 limousine had a license plate: u.s. senate 12. The Marine sergeant who approached it was already prepared to be very polite to the august personage the vehicle was carrying.

His determination to be very polite increased by at least fifty percent when he saw the passenger was a Marine brigadier general. He saluted crisply. «Good morning, sir!» he barked. «How may the sergeant assist the General, Sir?»

Pickering returned the salute.

«Good morning, Sergeant. I'm here to see Colonel Jack (NMI) Stecker.»

When Colonel Jack (NMI) Stecker, USMC, was a young sergeant in France in World War I, he had won the Medal of Honor. Sergeant Fleming Pickering and Corporal D. G. Mclnerney had been with him in the action.

«Yes, sir. May the sergeant trouble the General, Sir, for his identification? Regulations, sir.»

It is, I suppose, possible that the Axis Powers would, for some nefarious purpose, attempt to gain entrance to Headquarters, USMC, by sending in the agent wearing a Marine brigadier's uniform and in a car they stole from a senator.

«Certainly,» Pickering said, removing his wallet and nudging George Hart with his elbow to do the same thing.

The sergeant examined both ID cards carefully.

«Thank you, sir,» the sergeant said, handing them back. «One moment, sir, and I'll try to locate Colonel—Stecker, you said?—for you.»

«Stecker,» Pickering confirmed. «Thank you, Sergeant.»

The sergeant walked quickly to the guard shack and consulted a mimeographed list mounted on a clipboard. After a moment, it was evident from his face that he couldn't find what he expected to find.

He checked again, carefully, and then, looking worried, returned to the rear window of Fowler's long black Packard limousine.

«Sir, the sergeant probably misunderstood the General, Sir. The name of the colonel the General wishes to see is?»

«Stecker, Sergeant. Colonel Jack (NMI) Stecker,» Pickering said.

«Sir, I couldn't find a Colonel Stecker on my list, sir.»

«I know he's here, Sergeant,» Pickering said. «Why don't you call the Office of the Commandant and ask the sergeant major?»

«Aye aye, sir,» the sergeant said, and trotted quickly back to the guard shack.

A minute later, he was back. «Sir, if the General will be good enough to wait, the Office of the Commandant is sending someone down, sir, to take you to Colonel Stecker.»

«Thank you very much, Sergeant,» Pickering said.

Three minutes later a very natty Marine major walked up to the limousine and saluted.

He's a chair-warmer

, Pickering decided, somewhat unkindly, and not only because none of the ribbons on the major's chest indicated he had seen foreign service.

«Good morning, sir,» the Major said, saluting. «I'm Major Robinson, sir, of the Commandant's staff.»

«Good morning, Major,» Pickering said. «Do you know where I can find Colonel Stecker?»

«Yes, sir. The Colonel is also on the Commandant's staff. Specifically, he's a Special Assistant to the Commandant, sir. If I may get in the General's car, sir, I will show you where you can park, and then I'll take you to Colonel Stecker.»

«Special Assistant» to the Commandant ? That means they don't know what the hell to do with him.

«Thank you very much,» Pickering said.

After the major had slipped in the front seat next to Fred, they drove into the compound, and he showed Fred where to park behind a redbrick building.

They stepped out of the car.

«I don't believe I've had the privilege of previously meeting the General, sir,» Major Robinson said.

«No, I don't believe we've met,» Pickering said. «My name is Pickering, and this is my aide, Lieutenant Hart.»

Major Robinson shook Pickering's offered hand and nodded at Hart.

«Right this way, sir,» Major Robinson said. «Colonel Stecker's office is in the basement.»

In the basement, and it's probably a broom closet. That will change when General Vandegrift gets back.

Colonel Jack (NMI) Stecker's office was a little larger than a broom closet, but not much. There was room for a desk and two chairs and not much else. Stecker was a tall, muscular, tanned man in his early forties. When he saw Pickering, he looked up in surprise. The four rows of ribbons on his tunic were not topped by the white-starred blue ribbon indicating he had been awarded the Medal of Honor.

He's not embarrassed by it. He just doesn't want to hide behind it.

«General Pickering to see you, Colonel,» Major Robinson announced.

«Good morning, General,» Stecker said.

«Good morning, Colonel Stecker,» Pickering said, and turned to Major Robinson. «Thank you, Major. That will be all.»

«Sir, the Commandant is not aboard at the moment,» Robinson said. «But the chief of staff…«

«Please present my compliments to the chief of staff, Major, and tell him I will not waste his valuable time by making my manners. I have no business with him; I'm here to see Colonel Stecker.»

«Aye, aye, sir.»

«Close the door after the major, will you, please, George?»

«Aye, aye, sir.»

Pickering waited until the door was closed, and then smiled at Stecker.

«Hello, you ugly old bastard,» he said. «How the hell are you?»

«What the hell are you up to?»

«Well, I heard they'd put you in a broom closet in the basement, and I came to cheer you up.»

«They don't know what the hell to do with me,» Stecker said.

«Nobody's even suspected that you're going to be the eminence grise behind the incoming commandant?»

«The only one who knows who his replacement will be is the Commandant, and he told me he wants to keep it that way.»

«But you are looking forward to the day when General Vandegrift shows up and rescues you from the basement?»

«I'm looking forward to the day when I can make a contribution,» Stecker said.

«Well, I have a few little things you can do for me,» Pickering said.

«Hello, George,» Stecker said, offering his hand to Hart. «I wasn't trying to ignore you. But the last person I expected to see down here this morning is your boss.»

«Good to see you again, sir.»

«You're aware, of course, that you are looking at the new Deputy Director, Pacific, of the Office of Strategic Services?» Pickering asked.

«I saw it in the Washington

Post

. What's that all about?»