W E B Griffin - Corp 09 - Under Fire

by Under Fire(Lit)

  "What are they going to do if they catch us, boss?" Hart asked. "Send us to bed without our supper?"

  It wasn't that funny, but it produced chuckles, and very soon the chuckles were uncontrollable giggles.

  Pickering, making a valiant effort not to smile, opened the door to the doctor, who was carrying a small cardboard carton. What the doctor, a silver-haired man Pickering's age, saw were four apparently hysterical men in black pa-jamas sitting on the two beds.

  "General," the ship's doctor said, "General MacArthur asked me if I didn't think this was medically indicated for these gentlemen."

  He held the box up. It contained twenty-four 1.5-ounce bottles of Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey for medical pur-poses only.

  That pushed Pickering over the edge.

  "Gentlemen," he said. "General MacArthur thinks you should have a drink." And then he was laughing so hard he had to hold on to the door.

  The ship's doctor had practiced medicine long enough, and had been in the Navy long enough, to know when pursu-ing suspicions was neither sound medical nor naval practice.

  "I'll leave these with you, General," the doctor said. "I'm sure you will dispense them with discretion."

  "Doctor, what about my Marines?"

  "You are?" the doctor asked.

  "Major McCoy, sir."

  Jesus, I said that without thinking. I really must have wanted that gold leaf back. And goddamn it, "Major" sounds good.

  "I'll take care of your Marines, Major," the ship's doctor said. "Rest assured of that."

  The hysteria-which Pickering had decided was just that, a condition induced by their sudden change from a life-threatening situation to one where they were relatively safe-had almost passed when, five minutes later, Jeanette Priestly knocked on the door of Stateroom B-65.

  "I'd hate to tell you what it smells like in here," she said.

  "What can we do for you, Jeanette?" Pickering asked.

  "I need your influence," she said. "I want to go on the press Higgins boat when it goes to Inchon in two hours."

  "And they won't let you go? They say why?"

  "Because they don't have the personnel to properly pro-tect me," she said. "I think maybe you owe me, General. I lived up to my end of the bargain."

  "Go tell them you've got two Marines," McCoy said. "One of them a field-grade officer."

  "Hey!" Pickering said. "How many of those little bottles have you had? You just came back from the war."

  "General," McCoy said. "You know she's going whether or not they say she can. And we've done this before. And there're some people I really want to see in Seoul."

  "See about what?" Pickering challenged.

  McCoy hesitated.

  "See about what, Ken?"

  "Pick," McCoy said. "They might know where he is."

  "That was below the belt, Ken," Pickering said. "How can I say no after that?"

  "With respect, sir, I don't think you can."

  Pickering exhaled audibly.

  "George, grab a quick shower and shave and get into a decent uniform," he ordered, "and then go find whoever's in charge of this Higgins boat for the press, and tell them the CIA will require three spaces on it, and I don't care who gets bumped to provide them."

  "Aye, aye, sir," Hart said, and pushed himself off the bed.

  [SEVEN]

  PRESS

  URGENT

  FOR CHICAGO TRIBUNE

  SLUG MACARTHUR RETURNS SEOUL TO SOUTH KOREAN PRESIDENT SYNGMAN RHEE

  BY JEANETTE PRIESTLY

  CHICAGO TRIBUNE WAR CORRESPONDENT

  SEOUL KOREA SEPTEMBER 29-

  AT NOON TODAY, WITH A MESSAGE THAT MESMERIZED HIS AUDIENCE OF SENIOR AMERICAN AND SOUTH KOREAN OFFICIALS, GENERAL OF THE ARMY DOUGLAS MACARTHUR, IN THE NAME OF THE UNITED NATIONS, RE-TURNED THE BATTERED CAPITAL OF THIS WAR-RAVAGED NATION "IN GOD'S NAME* TO ITS PRESIDENT, SYNGMAN RHEE. AS HE SPOKE, THE REVERBERATION OF HEAVY CAN-NON FIRING ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE CITY CAUSED PLASTER AND GLASS TO FALL FROM THE WALLS, CEILING, AND WINDOWS OF THE BULLET-POCKED CAPITOL BUILDING.

  MACARTHUR AND RHEE FLEW INTO SEOUL'S KIMPO AIRPORT ABOARD "THE BATAAN" SHORTLY AFTER 10 THIS MORNING, TRAV-ELED ACROSS THE HAN RIVER ON A PON-TOON BRIDGE, AND THEN THROUGH THE DEVASTATED CITY TO ITS BATTERED CAPI-TOL BUILDING. THERE THEY WERE MET BY U.S. AMBASSADOR JOHN J. MUCIO, MAJOR GENERAL EDWARD M. ALMOND, COMMANDER OF THE INVASION, GENERAL "JOHNNIE" WALKER, DEFENDER OF THE PUSAN PERIME-TER AND OTHER SENIOR OFFICERS.

  MACARTHUR CONCLUDED HIS BRIEF REMARKS BY INVITING THOSE PRESENT TO JOIN HIM IN OFFERING THE LORD'S PRAYER, AND IM-MEDIATELY FOLLOWING THE CEREMONY, DEC-ORATED BOTH ALMOND AND WALKER WITH THE DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS, THE NA-TION'S SECOND-HIGHEST AWARD "FOR PER-SONAL VALOR IN THE FACE OF THE ENEMY.'

  IMMEDIATELY AFTER THAT, HE RETURNED TO KIMPO FIELD, BOARDED THE BATAAN, AND FLEW TO TOKYO. EN ROUTE HE SPOKE TO THIS REPORTER MODESTLY OF HIS OWN ROLE IN THE WAR, SAYING THE CREDIT BELONGED ENTIRELY TO THE YOUNG MEN WITH RIFLES IN THEIR HANDS AND THE OFFICERS WHO ACTUALLY LED THEM ON THE BATTLEFIELD.

  END NOTHING FOLLOWS

  [EIGHT]

  THE RESIDENCE OF THE SUPREME COMMANDER UN

  COMMAND/ALLIED FORCES IN JAPAN

  THE EMBASSY OF THE UNITED STATES

  TOKYO, JAPAN

  2030 29 SEPTEMBER 1950

  "Thank you for coming with me today, Fleming," General of the Army Douglas MacArthur said to Brigadier General Fleming Pickering.

  "My God, I was honored to be there," Pickering said. "Thank you for taking me."

  "You made your contribution to this campaign," MacArthur said. "You had every right to be there."

  "That's unjustified, but thank you," Pickering said.

  "I didn't see General Howe there," MacArthur said.

  "He was there, sir."

  And he said, "Liberated city, my ass. They're still shoot-ing in the city limits," but somehow mentioning that doesn't seem appropriate.

  The steward handed Pickering a glass of whiskey.

  And it's now incumbent upon me to offer some kind of a toast. But I really can't think of one. This war's not over, and if the Chinese come in, which seems more likely every day, we`ll be up to our ears in a worse mess than we were before Inchon.

  He raised his glass nevertheless, and said,

  "I propose-"

  The door opened and Colonel Huff came in.

  "Sir, there's a Lieutenant Colonel Porter to see you."

  "Ask him to be good enough to call upon me in the morn-ing," MacArthur said. "Sid, I told you I didn't wish-"

  "He's carrying a personal from General Ridgway, Gen-eral."

  "And I'll look at it in the morning. Thank you, Sid."

  "Sir, the colonel is under orders to put General Ridgway's personal into your hands as soon as possible," Huff persisted.

  "Ask him to come in, please," MacArthur said impa-tiently.

  A tall, good-looking young officer marched in, saluted, said, "General Ridgway's compliments, General," and handed him a squarish envelope.

  "Thank you, Colonel," MacArthur said. "Please be good enough to attend me tomorrow after ten at my headquar-ters."

  "Yes, sir," Colonel Porter said, saluted again, did an about-face, and marched out of the room.

  MacArthur tore the envelope open, glanced at it, then read it carefully again. Then he held it out at arm's length and sort of waved it until his wife had taken it from him.

  Then he turned his back on Pickering and his wife, took a handkerchief from the hip pocket of his soft-washed khakis, and rather loudly blew his nose.

  If I didn't know better, if anyone but Douglas MacArthur did that, I'd say he was crying. I wonder what the hell was in that note?

  As if reading his mind, Jean MacArthur handed Picker-ing the note, went to her husband, and put her arms around him.

  "Douglas," she said. "Darling, that's simply beautiful!"

  Pickering looked at the note.

  WASHINGTON, 26 SEPTEMBER 1950

  BY OFFICER COURIER


  MY DEAR GENERAL MACARTHUR:

  UNDER GOD'S GUIDANCE, THE FULL FRUITS OF THE INDOMITABLE COURAGE AND UNSHAK-ABLE PERSEVERANCE OF OUR FORCES SEEM ABOUT TO REACH HARVEST.

  THEY WILL ATTEST AGAIN TO THE INCOMPA-RABLE BRILLIANCE OF YOUR UNSURPASSED LEADERSHIP AND JUDGMENT.

  THEY WILL DEMONSTRATE AGAIN THE UN-FAILING RESPONSE OF AMERICAN FORCES TO TRUE LEADERSHIP, REGARDLESS OF ODDS.

  WHAT A TRIBUTE, TO BE RECORDED IN OUR MILITARY HISTORY TO OUR DEAD AND MAIMED.

  SINCERELY,

  M. B. RIDGWAY

  MATTHEW RIDGWAY

  VICE CHIEF OF STAFF

  UNITED STATES ARMY

  "A wonderful tribute," Pickering said, "and well-deserved."

  "Thank you, Fleming," said MacArthur. There was a slight waver in his voice.

  Jesus, I was right. MacArthur actually was crying.'

  Pickering read the note through again: "indomitable courage," "unshakable perseverance," "true leadership." He thought of McCoy and Zimmerman and Taylor and the South Koreans who had gone with them to the islands, and smiled. All these words applied there, too.

  "Regardless of odds." He hadn't heard from McCoy since they'd said goodbye on the Mount McKinley. He'd tried to put Killer's words out of his mind, but he'd failed miserably. "They might know where he is."

  Goddamn him. I'm not sure hope is what I want right now.

  Pickering felt a slight sting at the corners of his eyes.

  Jesus Christ! Two generals, blubbering like babies.

  He noticed the glass in his hand and raised it. "I never finished my toast, General," he said.

  MacArthur looked at him.

  "I'd like to do that now," Pickering went on. `To our men in Korea-wherever they are. God watch over them all."

  "I'll drink to that," MacArthur said, and raised his glass to Pickering's.

  For a moment, both men were silent. Then they drank, and their talk turned once more to war.

  Afterword

  There really was a major general, a friend of President Harry S. Truman since their service as captains, whom the President sent to the Far East immediately after the Korean War began, in a role very much like the one the fictional Major General Howe plays in this book. He landed at In-chon on D day, and immediately hooked up with the leg-endary Colonel "Chesty" Puller, USMC.

  And there really was a naval reserve lieutenant, Eugene F. Clark, a Mustang like my fictional character Lieutenant David Taylor, USNR, in this book, who did in fact seize the islands in the Flying Fish Channel with the assistance of a handful of Marines, and Korean national policemen.

  I learned of Lieutenant Clark's exploits from my friend Ed Ivanhoe, who is the historian cum laude of the Special Operations community, and who was himself involved in Korean War Special Operations. And some others, in other places.

  The exploits of the real naval hero also came to the at-tention-from other sources-of the distinguished histo-rian Thomas Fleming. He published an article based on what he had learned. Shortly after it was published, Lieu-tenant Clark's family got in touch with Mr. Fleming and told him that on his return from Korea, Lieutenant Clark, now deceased, had written a book about the Flying Fish Channel operation but never submitted it for publication.

  Would Mr. Fleming have a look at it to see if a publisher might be interested? They thought it was a good story. When he read it, so did Mr. Fleming.

  Several weeks later-ay he was actually editing the seg-ment of this book that put my fictional character David Taylor on Tokchok-kundo Island-Lieutenant Clark's man-uscript landed on the desk of Putnam's publisher and editor in chief, Neil Nyren.

  Putnam published Lieutenant Clark's memoirs of the Flying Fish Channel Operation, titled The Secrets of In-chon.

  W. E. B. Griffin

  Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina

  August 23,2001

  The End