If there was little threat from the jets or the flying bombs, there was no point in keeping that sharp an eye on them. What the Air Corps calledareconnaissance assets," the P-38s and the B-26s fitted out as photographic reconnaissance aircraft, which were presently spending countless hours looking for jets and or flying bombs, or facilities that might build or house them, could be diverted to "more productive" activity.
Eighth Air Force could not just assign their reconnaissance aircraft where they wanted to. They--and SHAEF--were operating under a mandate from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff that gave OSS requests for intelligence gathering the highest priority.
Unless they could get the Joint Chiefs to revoke the mandate, which was very unlikely, the only option they had was to get the London station of OSS to agree that the reconnaissance was no longer necessary. They had pulled out all stops to do just that.
The Air Corps brass had a clear position, The Germans weren't close to fielding operational jet fighters. Even if sometime in the bye-and-bye they did actually manage to put a "handful of operational aircraft up, " they would scarcely be effective against the wall of machine-gun fire a "block" of bombers could set up.
The Air Corps had made a concerted effort, at an enormous expenditure of materiel, to locate German jet-propelled aircraft and or flying bombs and had been unsuccessful. It was therefore logical to presume that even if the Germans had such Buck Rogers experimental weaponry on their drawing boards, they were a long way from getting them into the air, much less operational.
It therefore followed that it was no longer necessary to continue the expenditure of reconnaissance assets at the present level.
Reconnaissance would not be discontinued, of course. It would continue whenever assets could be spared from other, more pressing utilization.
The Air Corps paraded their experts, both professional airmen and commissioned civilians. All of them had decided--either professionally or because they knew which side their bread was buttered on--that the two-star generals were right.
The Navy didn't give much of a damn. Neither the jet fighters, because of their limited range, nor the flying bombs, because they could not be precisely aimed, posed any threat to ships at sea that they could see, the Navy quickly caved in.
That left in effect a hung jury. Against one wise and highly experienced major general and his experts stood one inexplicably difficult retreaded light colonel, and one ex-fighter pilot, still wet behind the ears.
Canidy believed, and Stevens trusted his judgment, that the current intelligence--actually the lack of it--proved that the Air Corps had not been able to find where the Germans were building or testing their jets and their flying bombs. It did not prove there were no jets.
Nothing the Air Corps had come up with disproved Donovan's--and now Canidy's--belief that there were jets and flying bombs. Unless something was done about them, the jets were going to shoot down B-17s and B24s by the hundreds. And the flying bombs would certainly be sent against London, maybe even New York. In that case, more, not less, reconnaissance was necessary.
"General," Stevens said finally. "I'm afraid that the OSS must non concur with the conclusions drawn in your draft report."
"In other words, Colonel, you are putting your judgment, and that of your major, against everything we've shown you here?"
"General, with respect, the OSS has information that makes the existence of operational German jet aircraft seem far more likely than your people believe."
"But which considerations of security make it impossible for you to share with us, correct?" the general asked icily.
"Yes, sir, I'm afraid that's the situation," Stevens replied.
"Then there is not much point in going on with this meeting, is there?
"Sir, I would suggest that everything has been covered," Stevens said.
The general nodded, and simply got up and walked out of the room.
If the meeting was to be considered a battle, Canidy thought, the Air Corps had lost. But the OSS's victory, if that's what it was, was worse than hollow. A large number of men, men like himself, men like Doug Douglass, were going to die because the OSS--which in fact meant Canidy, Richard-insisted on photographing every spot in Germany that looked likely to contain something interesting about jet airplanes and flying bombs.
Both Stevens and Canidy fell asleep in the backseat of the Princess on the way to London. There didn't seem to be anything to say, and the steady stream of expert opinion thrown at them, plus the growing acrimony, had left them exhausted.
They both knew that by the time they reached Berkeley Square, their reluctance to give in to the Air Corps would have preceded them.
And they would have to justify it to David Bruce.
Two further annoyances awaited Canidy at Berkeley Square. The first came from Sergeant Major Davis, Ann Chambers had called to say she had gone to Nottingham, purpose unspecified, with Meachum Hope, and would be gone three days. The second came from Bruce himself, who announced that the CID (the Criminal Investigation Division of the Provost Marshal's Office) had caught one of the cooks at Whitbey House selling food rations on the black market. He would of course have to be court-martialed.
Since Canidy was not a bona-fide officer and could not legally convene a court-martial himself, the chief of station "suggested" the way to handle it was to transfer the thief to Richodan, where Major Berry, the Richodan commandant, "was equipped to handle this sort of thing." For reasons Canidy had never understood, Major Berry had been taken into the OSS after proving himself an incompetent working for Bob Murphy in Casablanca. Canidy knew Berry to be the sort of sonofabitch who would joyously throw the book at the thief.
And Canidy was also more than a little aware that he himself had' diverted" from "the war effort" a Packard, a Ford, a B-25, and several tons of foodstuffs and liquor. Having set that example, he could not in good conscience send a corporal to the stockade for selling a couple of hams, or a couple of roasts, to get beer money.
"I'll handle it," he said. "I'll throw the fear of Christ into him.
It won't happen again."
"Once is more than enough, Canidy," Bruce said.
"I don't want him, during a break from cracking rocks at Litchfield, telling the other prisoners all the interesting things he's seen at Whitbey House." The chief of station's face tightened at that. His thinking had gone no further than' thieves must be punished."
"I'll leave it up to you, then," he said after a moment, and then went on to more serious matters, "About that meeting in High Wycombe, if you and Ed Stevens are in agreement, I'll back you to the hilt."
"The Air Corps has been heard from, I gather?"
"In the last forty-eight hours my phone has been ringing off the hook," Bruce said, smiling just a little. "As I was saying, since you and Colonel Stevens seem to be in agreement, I will, of course, stand behind you. But I want you to know that it's clear to me that you could have presented your case with a good deal more tact.
Your position will prevail, but at a terrible price insofar as good relations among OSS and Eighth Air Force and SHAEF are concerned." The truth was that Canidy had been as tactful as he knew how, and that the complaints had been an attempt by the Air Corps to have his objections overridden. But if he said so, he knew that the chief of station would take that reasoning as nothing but another manifestation of Canidy's bad attitude." "I'm sorry they took offense," he said.
"I really wish I could believe that, Dick," the chief of station said sadly.
Bruce reminded Canidy of a master at St. Mark's School. Every time the boys had gotten in trouble, the master had been sorrowful, not angry.
"It's true, David," Canidy said with as much sincerity as he could muster.
"Well, it's water under the damn, I suppose," David Bruce said.
"But I wanted to get that out of the way before the meeting."
"Oh, Christ, not another meeting! I'm meetinged out!"
"You may find this one interes
ting," Bruce said, gesturing for Canidy to precede him out of the office.
Outside, Bruce stepped ahead and climbed the narrow, squeaking flight of stairs to what had been the servants' quarters. Under the slant of the roof were now storerooms and small conference rooms.
Bruce stopped before one of the conference rooms and knocked at the door.
Colonel Wild Bill Donovan opened it.
"Hello, Dick," Donovan said. "I have just been hearing in some detail about your war with the Air Corps." Colonel Stevens, who was sitting at a small table with Stanley Fine, chuckled.
"That's not true," Stevens said. "I just told him that to my considerable astonishment you were the picture of tact and calm reason.
"We could have used you up there, Colonel," Canidy said as he shook Donovan's hand. "We were outnumbered."
"Ed told me it was tough," Donovan said. "It couldn't be helped.
You understand, I suppose, that the meeting wasn't really about the reconnaissance missions you've been asking for."
"I don't understand, " Canidy admitted.
"That's part of it, but only part. As long as we maintain there is a bonafide threat from jet-propelled aircraft, the whole Air Corps strategy for Europe is being questioned. The pressure on the people you and Ed were dealing with came right from the top. I'm sorry you had to stand up under it, but the alternative was David going, and I didn't want that."
"Or you," Canidy challenged.
"No way." Donovan laughed. "I was saying, I didn't want David to go.
Which made you and Ed the sacrificial lambs. I just want you to know I know it must have been tough acting that small gem like flame of reason, et cetera et cetera."
"I'm afraid there was antagonism, sir, " Canidy said.
"They're going to be antagonized until we announce that we've been wrong all along," Donovan said. "And since we are not wrong_ n
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that, sir," Canidy said. "I was beginning to think I was on the shit list."
"Don't be silly," Donovan said quickly, and then went on, "Before we get into this, Canidy--how important is Jimmy Whittaker to you?"
"Sir? I don't think I understand the question."
"There's an operation coming up in the Pacific where I think he'd be very useful. Barring a very strong objection from you--for example, if he's absolutely essential to your plans to get Professor Dyer out of Germany--I want to send him over there." Canidy hesitated before replying, "Nothing specific at the moment, sir. I guess I think of him as my reserve. He has experience behind the lines. I'd really like to have him available in case I do need him."
"I need that behind-the-lines experience myself," Donovan said.
"Or rephrasing that so I don't sound like God. Whittaker's experience in the Philippines is just what is needed right now in the Philippines.
"Sir, I don't follow you."
"Let me tell you what I have in mind," Donovan said. "There's an officer in the Philippines, a man named Wendell Fertig. Before the war, he was a civil engineer. He was a friend of Chesty Whittaker. He took a commission just before the war started, and then, refusing to surrender, took to the hills when Bataan fell. He made it to Mindanao and began guerrilla operations.
"He began by promoting himself to brigadier general--he was a major--apparently in the belief Filipinos wouldn't be impressed with anything less than a colonel. He also appointed himself' Commander in Chief of U. S. Forces in the Philippines. That allowed him to recruit guerrillas.
But as you can imagine, it didn't endear him to Douglas MacArthur and his staff, who like to do things strictly by the book... "
"I hadn't heard we had any guerrillas," Canidy said.
"As I was about to say," Donovan said sharply, annoyed at the interruption," General' Fertig and his guerrillas are being studiously ignored by Douglas MacArthur. MacArthur won't even reply to his radio messages. He says they're phony, controlled by the Japanese.
MacArthur has a G-2 named Willoughby who says there is no way a useful guerrilla force can be organized or supplied.
"But Fertig made radio contact with the Navy in San Diego, it came to the attention of Navy Secretary Frank Knox--and the President--and Knox, who has his own private covert operation, called the Marine Corps Offfice of Management Analysis, has sent a team of Marines into Mindanao to see if they find Fertig.
"And if they find him, what?"
"There has been a suggestion from MacArthur's headquarters that Fertig is not playing with a full deck.
The first thing Knox's people are supposed to do--presuming they can find him--is determine if he's sane, and then what his chances are of mounting a useful guerrilla operation."
"The Marines haven't found him yet?" Canidy asked.
Donovan shook his head' no."
"So far not a word," he said. "I rate their chances of their mission being successful as fifty-fifty. And if they don't make it, I rate the chances of the President--who is fascinated with the idea of American guerrillas in the Philippines--giving the mission of having another go at it to the OSS as one hundred to one." He paused, waited until he decided Canidy had time to absorb what he had been told, and then asked, "Are you beginning to get the picture?" "Yeah," Canidy said thoughtfully.
"If I am ordered to send someone into the Philippines, I want it to be someone who won't antagonize MacArthur," Donovan said. "And Jimmy left the Philippines on the PT boat with MacArthur. Even Willoughby can't argue with that."
"And Jimmy, of course, knows the Philippines, " Canidy said, "and speaks Spanish."
"It's even possible that he knows Fertig," Donovan said. "Before the islands fell, they were both blowing things up. So it would seem to me that Jimmy is the man to go.
But it's your call. The Dyer mission, and the followons, have the higher priority. If you think you really need him.
" It was a long moment before Canidy replied.
"The unpleasant truth seems to be," he said finally, "is that Jimmy falls into the Nice to Have' rather than Have to Have' category."
"The Philippines mission is important, Dick," Donovan said.
"It will screw up his love life, but what the hell, war is supposed to be hell anyway, isn't it?"
"It would be a volunteer mission. You think he'll be willing?" Donovan said.
Canidy nodded.
"And now, as they say," Donovan said, "to the business at hand. I understand that contact has been made with Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz?
"Three days ago," Canidy said.
"By whom?" Donovan pursued. "What was said?"
"The British have been helping us," Canidy said. "We don't have anyone in Berlin that we can use for this. Their help has been a little reluctant."
"That figures," Donovan said.
"Their story is that their men are involved in something' rather more important, don't you know, "' Canidy said in a credible upper-class British accent. "They have told us that we are going to have to make our own arrangements and stop using their agents in both Berlin and Frankfurt. Specifically, they are going to give us one more contact.
Probably, if we lean on them, we can make that two contacts. But after no more than two contacts with von Heurten-Mitnitz, we're on our own." Donovan nodded.
"There's something else, Dick," he said, "that until now you didn't have to know, and which the British aren't going to be told about at this time. We have, we think, a pipeline in place. From Budapest out, I mean."
"Do I get to use it?" Canidy asked. "I've been going on the idea that we'll get Dyer and his daughter out by fishing boat from Holland.
And why the long way around?"
"The Germans know that we, as well as the British, are bringing people out through Holland and Belgium. And they're getting better and better at finding those pipelines. We'll continue to use them, of course. And we'll set up others when they turn one off. But what we've done is set one up which will move people the other way, from Germany to Hungary, then through Yugoslavia. It won't be used muc
h, just enough to keep it open. And it will be used only for those we must bring out. Do you follow the reasoning?" Canidy nodded. "It's in reserve, so to speak." "No," Donovan said.
"Not the way I think you mean. It will not be used when one of the Dutch or Belgian routes is shut down. It will be used only when the people being run through are too valuable to run through the others."
W E B Griffin - Men at War 3 - The Soldier Spies Page 32
