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

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,» Mclnerney said. «You have two choices. Russia, and you say that's out of the question. Or India.»

«Tell me about India,» Pickering said.

«The Air Corps is flying Curtiss C-46s from Sadiya—something like that, anyway. God, I'm not sure what I'm talking about.»

Mclnerney picked up his telephone. «Tony, bring me maps of India and China,» he said, hung up, and then went on: «They call it 'Flying the Hump.' Meaning they have to climb to sixteen thousand feet to fly over it, most of the way on oxygen. They fly supplies over the Himalayas into Kunming, China.»

«Kunming is in the south of China,» Stecker said. «The Gobi Desert is in the north, the far north.»

«I'll have to check the map, but I'm thinking, Jack, that the distances are about the same. A C-46 would have the range, especially if it wasn't planning to make a round trip.»

«Correct me if I'm wrong,» Pickering said. «But wouldn't you say that even if the Japanese can't shoot these planes down—«

«They shoot them down,» Mclnerney interrupted.

»—they keep track of them. Either themselves, or with informants, spies, on the ground?»

«Sure.»

«And wouldn't they notice if one of these C-46s routinely flying to Kunming suddenly went in the other direction?»

«Probably. But it wouldn't be the first aircraft to get lost out there. A friend of mine told me the pilots call it 'the Aluminum Trail,' because you can navigate by the wrecks of planes that have gone down.»

«But wouldn't you say they would go looking for an airplane, the wreckage of an airplane, that didn't head for Kunming?»

«Flem, you're going to have to get used to the idea that you don't have many options,» Mclnerney said.

Lieutenant Sylvester appeared with four maps packed in cardboard tubes.

Mclnerney came from behind his desk, pulled the rolled-up maps from the tubes, and spread them out on the floor. He and Stecker dropped to their knees. Pickering stood behind them.

«Here it is,» Mclnerney said, pointing. «I was right. Sadiya, in the Brahmaputra Valley. From there over the mountains to Kunming.» He traced the route with his fingers, and then, using his little finger and thumb as a compass, compared the distance between Sadiya and Kunming and Sadiya and the center of the Gobi Desert.

«Like I thought,» he said, «about the same distance. Five hundred miles, maybe five-fifty. A C-46 could make it, one-way, without any trouble.»

«Does the Corps have any C-46s?» Pickering asked.

«The Corps has a few, reluctantly contributed by the Air Corps, and none of which I— speaking for the Corps—am willing to give to the OSS for a one-way mission.»

Pickering did not reply directly. «What about the R4-D?» he asked.

«It has the range, but getting it over the mountains? Risky—damned risky— at best.»

«And you can't fly an R4-D through the mountains, or around them?»

Mclnerney shook his head. «You have to have the altitude to get over them.

The R4-D just doesn't have it. There's always exceptions to everything, of course. But so far as I'm concerned, you'd better forget about using an R4-D.»

Pickering dropped to his knees and put his finger on the map.

«That, General,» Mclnerney said, «is the Yellow Sea.»

«Yeah, General, I know,» Pickering said. «I used to be a sailor.»

«What are you thinking, Flem?»

«Catalina,» Pickering said. «Maybe two Catalinas. From fifty miles offshore, they would have more than enough range.»

«Not by the time they reached a position fifty miles off the coast. Not from any base where they are now operating.»

«They would if they met a submarine and took on fuel from it,» Pickering said.

«A rendezvous at sea?» Mclnerney said, doubtfully but thoughtfully. «I don't know, Flem.»

«The Catalina has a range of twenty-three hundred miles,» Pickering said. «It cruises at a hundred sixty knots, or thereabouts. And it can carry two tons of bombs.»

«It carries the bombs under its wings,» Mclnerney said.

«But it can lift that much weight, right? Two tons is a lot of meteorological equipment.»

«I thought you came here for my expert advice about airplanes.»

«We did. And you came up with the same arguments against using India as a base for C-46s that Jack and I did. You ever hear the true test of an intelligent man is how much he agrees with you?»

«I'm not agreeing with you. I am having unpleasant mental images of what would happen if you could talk the Navy into giving you a submarine

or

a Catalina.»

«What kind of unpleasant images?»

«First of all, the Navy is not going to be thrilled about putting several thousand gallons of avgas in one of their boats,» Mclnerney said. «Avgas tends to explode. And then how would you get it into the tanks of the Catalina? I have visions of white hats trying—and failing—to get drums of gas over the side of a sub into a rubber boat. And then how would you get it from the rubber boat into the Catalina? The fuel receptacles are on the upper surface of a Catalina's wings. You plan to stand up in a rubber boat on the high seas and manhandle a fifty-five-gallon drum of avgas up onto the wing of a Catalina?»

«There has to be a way to do it,» Stecker said.

«Jesus, Jack!»

«We got avgas onto Guadalcanal by tossing fifty-five-gallon drums of avgas over the side of those old four-stacker War One destroyers and letting the tide float it ashore.»

«So?»

«Barrels of avgas float,» Pickering said. «That might be useful.»

«Flem, I can think of a hundred reasons this won't work!»

«That's why Jack and I came to see you, Mac,» Pickering said. «We figured you could come up with everything that could go wrong. And then the solutions to fix the problems.»

«You're presuming the Navy is going to give you a submarine, and Catalinas.»

«Or, if we decided we need it, an old four-stacker destroyer or two. And, for that matter, one or more of the Marine Corps' precious C-46s. Whatever we need, Mac.»

«What makes you believe that?»

«Because Admiral Leahy has ordered Admiral Nimitz to give us whatever we think we need, and Admiral Nimitz really wants this weather station.»

«You know, I was really happy when you two walked in here,» Mclnerney said. «I should have known better.»

«Can we buy you lunch, General?» Pickering asked.

«You have ruined my appetite for at least the next three days,» Mclnerney said. «I'm going to have to think long and hard about this, Flem.»

«Does that mean you don't want to have lunch with us?» Pickering asked.

»

Eat

with you? I would be happier if I never saw either of you again,» Mclnerney said. «How much time do I have?»

«Would yesterday morning be too soon?»

«Get the hell out of here,» Mclnerney said. «Call me tomorrow afternoon.»

«No, we'll come see you,» Pickering said. «I don't want to talk about this on the telephone.»

Mclnerney nodded, then thought of something else: «Who's going to fly this airplane?»

«Jack and I were really thinking we need two Catalinas.»

«Who's going to fly the

two

Catalinas?»

«We thought you might be helpful there too, General,» Pickering said, and then turned serious. «I want Marine Corps pilots. I want to keep it in the family, so to speak.»

«But you're not in the family anymore, are you?» Mclnerney said, and immediately added, «Sorry, that slipped out. I shouldn't have said that.»

«What about 'once a Marine, always a Marine'?» Pickering said. «You ever hear that?»

«I said I was sorry. I am.»

«Both of you, knock it off,» Stecker said.

They looked at Stecker, and then at each other.