He thought it would look better if Colonel T Howard Kennedy found him keeping a personal supervisory eye on things, rather than sitting in the CP, drinking coffee, and reading Stars and Stripes.
From what MacNamara had heard-and, for that matter, seen-the war was just about over. The linkup with Eighth Army advancing from the south had been made, and he'd heard that the UN had given permission to MacArthur to chase the North Koreans back across the 38th Parallel and destroy what was left of their army.
There were a lot of implications to be drawn from that, and MacNamara had been around the Army long enough to make them.
Many of the troops here would be withdrawn, either-at first, at least-to Japan or all the way back to the States. That didn't mean they would take all their wheeled vehicles with them. For one thing, that would take a lot of ship-ping, and for another, it didn't make a lot of sense to haul vehicles that had been used hard in the war and needed Third and Fourth Echelon maintenance all the way back to the States when that maintenance could be performed a lot cheaper in Japan.
And MacNamara believed that it was unlikely the Army was going to allow itself to be caught again with its pants down, logistically speaking. From what he'd seen and heard, there had been almost nothing in the depots in Japan when the war started, and that had hurt bad.
It seemed very likely to MacNamara that what would happen, once the war was over in a couple of weeks, was that the Army would restock the depots in Japan with the vehicles that had come from the States. There would be ordnance depots in Japan like the Anniston Depot in Alabama, with stocks of rebuilt-to-specification vehicles ready for immediate issue.
And there was certainly a role to play in that for units like the Eighty-Twenty-Three generally, and, if he played his cards right, for Captain Francis P. MacNamara specifically.
He didn't want to get too enthusiastic about it, only to be later kicked in the balls, but it seemed possible, even likely, that he could stay on active duty long enough to get his promotion to major. He was eligible.
If that happened, that meant he would be retired as a major when he had his twenty years in, even if he got RIF'd again back to master sergeant.
But it was also possible, if less likely, that he could stay on active duty, par-ticularly if he was right about the Army setting up an Anniston-type depot in Japan when the war was over, and go all the way to twenty years and retirement as a major.
Hell, maybe even make lieutenant colonel before he retired.
All it would take for this to happen would be for the brass to notice that he had done a hell of a good job with the Eighty-Twenty-Three and was just the man they needed for what was going to happen after the war.
Colonel Kennedy arrived fifteen minutes into Captain MacNamara's second tour of the depot.
MacNamara saw him arrive-in a three-jeep convoy-but pretended not to see him until the "visiting party" had parked their jeeps and walked down to him between two rows of Ready for Exchange vehicles.
Then he hurriedly walked to them, saluted, and announced, "Good morn-ing, sir. Captain MacNamara, Francis P., commanding."
Colonel Kennedy returned the salute.
"Quite an operation you have here, Captain," he said. "Very impressive."
"Thank you, sir."
"Can you give me some quick stats? What's ready for issue?"
"Everything you see, sir, except for those beyond-my-capacity-to-repair vehicles"-he pointed-"over there. There are seven in that category, sir. There are five hundred seventy-nine wheeled vehicles of all types ready for issue, sir."
"Five hundred seventy-nine, eh?"
"Yes, sir. Would the colonel like a specific breakdown?"
"That won't be necessary," Colonel Kennedy said. "I didn't really realize there were that many."
"Yes, sir. And all ready for immediate exchange."
"I understand there was some difficulty in getting them off-loaded at In-chon when you came."
"The heavier stuff-the tank transporters, some of the larger wreckers- gave us a little trouble, sir. But we managed to get everything off-loaded with-out trouble."
"And the tides, too, I'm sure, posed a problem?"
"Yes, sir. We really had to push when the ship was at the dock to get as much off before the ship had to go back down the channel again."
"Somebody said, you know, that Inchon was the worst possible place, be-cause of those tides, to stage a landing."
"Well, we did it, sir."
"And you think you learned from the experience?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sure we did."
"Well, perhaps that will make things a little easier for you now," Colonel Kennedy said.
"Sir?"
"As soon as you can, Captain, start moving your vehicles back to Inchon. Check with the port captain, and see where he wants you to operate for the on-loading."
"Yes, sir. I'll get right on it. I'm a little surprised that we're going back to Japan so soon."
"I didn't say anything about Japan, Captain," Colonel Kennedy said. "X Corps has been ordered to reembark to make another landing elsewhere."
"Yes, sir. Where would that be?"
"You'll be informed in good time,' Colonel Kennedy said. He put out his hand. "You've done a good job here, Captain. Keep it up."
"Yes, sir," MacNamara said.
Chapter Nine
[ONE]
Blair House
Pennsylvania Avenue
Washington, D.G.
1OO5 11 October 195O
There was a knock at the closed door of Harry S Truman's study, but the President, who was reading what he thought of as one more windy damned re-port, didn't pay much attention to it.
There were knocks at his study door all day and all night, followed a mo-ment later by whoever was there-his secretary, usually-opening it and stand-ing there waiting until she had his attention.
When, a full sixty seconds later, Truman raised his eyes to see who it was, the door was still closed. He watched the door, waiting for it to open. It didn't. He had just about decided that he hadn't heard a knock after all when there was another.
"Come in," the President called, not entirely cordially.
The door immediately opened and a Marine sergeant in dress blue uniform marched in, stopped precisely eighteen inches from the President's desk, saluted crisply, and barked, "An eyes-only message for the Commander-in-Chief, sir!" and extended a business-size white envelope toward the President.
"Thank you, son," Truman said, and returned the salute.
Harry S Truman knew very well that salutes were supposed to be only for members of the armed forces in uniform, but had rationalized that by re-minding himself that not only was he Commander-in-Chief, but every month the Treasurer of the United States mailed a pension check to Colonel Harry S Truman, NG, Retired. He'd worn the uniform, and if he wanted to return this boy's salute, he damned well was going to.
The sergeant snapped to a Parade Rest position.
"Stand at ease," Truman said.
The sergeant snapped to a slightly-only slightly-less rigid position and stared eight inches over the President's head.
There was little question in the President's mind that he was about to read a message from Ralph Howe. All other messages were delivered by either his sec-retary or, in the case of Eyes-Only, by one of the Signal Corps officers or war-rant officers in the message center.
Except for Eyes-Only messages from Ralph Howe and Fleming Pickering. These were invariably delivered by a Marine. Truman had finally figured out that the Marines had stationed two of their own in the message center, round-the-clock, a Marine cryptographer who got all the messages from Camp Pendleton addressed to the President, and decoded it, and another Marine in dress blues to personally deliver it.
It was just like the Marines, the President thought, to do something like that.
He realized and admitted that the thought was much less sarcastic than it had been before this damned Korean business started. He had not then
been much of a fan of the United States Marine Corps, and had been quoted as say-ing he didn't see why the Navy needed its own army, and perhaps-to save the taxpayer's dollar-it was time to do away with it.
Korea had changed that. The Army had really dropped the ball over there, and the Marine Corps had saved their ass. That wasn't Marine Corps public relations talking. Ralph Howe had reported that from over there, and even General Walker had come right out and said that if it hadn't been for the Marines, he didn't think he would have been able to hold at the Pusan Perimeter.
Truman slit the envelope open with a small penknife, took out the contents-four sheets of neatly single-spaced typewriter copy-and read them twice. First, a quick glance, and then again, slowly.
Then he folded the sheets of paper and put them back in the envelope. He looked at the Marine sergeant.
"Sergeant..." The Marine snapped to attention like a spring. "That'll be all, son. Would you ask one of the Secret Service agents to come in, please? Thank you."
"Aye, aye, sir," the Marine barked, and snapped his rigid hand to his eyebrow.
Truman returned the salute again.
The Marine did a snappy About-Face movement and marched out of the office.
Truman picked up one of his telephones.
"See if you can get General Pickering for me, will you, please?" he said, and hung up.
There was another knock at the door, and the door opened and two Secret Service agents stepped into the room without waiting for permission.
"Yes, Mr. President?" one of them asked.
"I want one of you to take this," Truman said, holding out the envelope, "across the street to General Pickering in the Foster Lafayette. When he's fin-ished reading it, bring it back."
The telephone buzzed. Truman reached to pick it up before the Secret Ser-vice agent could take the envelope from his hand.
"I have General Pickering, Mr. President," the White House Operator said.
"Pickering?" the President said.
"Yes, Mr. President?"
The President of the United States changed his mind.
That wasn't good news about his son. The least I can do is deliver it myself.
And I need to get him off the hook about the CIA anyway.
This is as good a time to do that as any.
"Have you got a few minutes for me? Right now?"
"I'll be there immediately, Mr. President."
"Hold your position, General," Truman said. "You're in your apartment, right?"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"Order up some coffee, General, if you'd be so kind. I'll be right there. I need the walk."
"It'll be waiting, Mr. President."
The President hung up and looked at the Secret Service agents.
"Organize the parade," he ordered. "I'm going across the street to the Fos-ter Lafayette."
The parade, as Truman referred to his Secret Service bodyguard escort, was wait-ing when Truman came down the steps of Blair House, turned right, and walked briskly down Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Foster Lafayette Hotel.
Truman looked across Pennsylvania Avenue at the White House. There were all sorts of signs of work on the "repairs" under way. It was more than re-pairs, Truman thought. The building, which had been literally at the point of collapse, had been gutted and was being rebuilt.
He waved and smiled at tourists, but completely ignored the questions called out to him by a dozen members of the press who had joined the parade the moment it was formed.
They were waiting for him at the Foster Lafayette. The doorman held the door open for him, and, inside, four Secret Service agents made sort of a path to an elevator waiting for him.
Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR, was standing in the corri-dor outside the door to his suite.
"Morning," the President said.
One of the Secret Service agents walked quickly through the door.
"Good morning, Mr. President," Pickering said as the President walked past him into the sitting room of the Marquis de Lafayette Suite.
Two waiters were making final adjustments to an array of food on a table covered with a white tablecloth.
"That's very nice, General," Truman said, "but all I asked for was a cup of coffee."
"Mr. President, if you'd given them another couple of minutes, there would be a steamboat round of beef and pheasant under glass on that table," Picker-ing said.
"It's a little early for something like that, but that pastry is tempting," Tru-man said. He walked to the table and spoke to the waiters. "That's very nice, thank you very much."
He picked up a white sugarcoated breakfast roll and looked at the Secret Ser-vice agents.
"Would you leave us, please?" he ordered.
He took a bite of the roll, then laid it down and poured a cup of coffee from a silver pitcher. He looked at Pickering, asking with raised eyebrows if Picker-ing wanted coffee.
"Yes, please, thank you, sir," Pickering said.
Truman poured the coffee and handed the cup and saucer to Pickering. Then he took his own cup and saucer and the breakfast roll and sat down on a couch.
"Please sit down, General," he said.
"Thank you, sir."
"I just got a message from Ralph Howe," the President said. "I thought you would like to see it."
He took the white envelope from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to Pickering.
"Thank you, sir," Pickering said, and opened the envelope and read it.
TOP SECRET/PRESIDENTIAL
OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
0845 TOKYO TIME 10OCTOBER1950
FROM: CHIEF PRESIDENTIAL MISSION TO FAR EAST
VIA: USMC SPECIAL COMMUNICATIONS CENTER CAMP PENDLETON CAL
TO: WHITE HOUSE COMMUNICATIONS CENTER WASHINGTON DC
EYES ONLY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES
BEGIN PERSONAL MESSAGE FROM MAJOR GENERAL HOWE
DEAR HARRY
IN RESPONSE TO YOUR REQUEST THAT I SEND WHATEVER I THINK YOU WOULD FIND USEFUL AT WAKE
ISLAND
IN RE THE RELANDING OF X CORPS ON EAST COAST OF KOREAN PENINSULA
MACARTHUR GAVE ME A PERSONAL BRIEFING ON HIS PLANS AND INTENTIONS IN WHICH HE CONVINCINGLY SAID THE OPERATION WILL PERMIT HIM TO QUICKLY REACH THE YALU RIVER AND THUS KEEP THE FLEEING NORTH KOREAN ARMY FROM ESCAPING INTO CHINA AND THUS PERMIT ITS COMPLETE DESTRUCTION
HE CONVINCINGLY SAID THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO MILITARY REASON FOR HIM TO CROSS THE BORDER
I RAISED THE CONCERNS OF MAJOR GENERAL OLIVER SMITH OF FIRST MARDIV AS PREVIOUSLY REPORTED TO YOU THAT THE TERRAIN OF NORTH KOREA AND THE EXTENDED SUPPLY LINES POSE PROBLEMS
MACARTHUR SAID BOTH HE AND GENERAL ALMOND ARE VERY MUCH AWARE OF THE PROBLEMS AND WILL DEAL WITH THEM ACCORDINGLY
I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH MACARTHUR KNOWS ABOUT FIGHTING IN THE MOUNTAINS BUT ALMOND FOUGHT HIS DIVISION IN THE MOUNTAINS OF ITALY IN THE WINTER AND CERTAINLY LEARNED FROM THAT EXPERIENCE
I HAVE THE FEELING THAT MACARTHUR DIDN'T SEEK GUIDANCE AND APPROVAL FOR THE OPERATION FROM THE JOINT CHIEFS BECAUSE HE THINKS HE HAS A MANDATE TO OPERATE WITHOUT IT AND ALSO BECAUSE HE REGARDS AS DO ALMOND AND SMITH THIS OPERATION AS CONSIDERABLY SIMPLER THAN THE INCHON LANDING
THE NAVY HAS NO PROBLEMS WITH THE OPERATION EXCEPT FOR THE ANTICIPATED LACK OF PORT FACILITIES WHICH WILL PROBABLY DELAY THE OFF LOADING OF HEAVY EQUIPMENT SUCH AS TANKS ETCETERA
I HAD A LONG TALK WITH GENERAL WALKER WHO HAS MOVED HIS FORWARD HEADQUARTERS TO KOREA FROM JAPAN AND PLANS TO OPEN IT IN SEOUL AS SOON AS HE CAN TO CONTROL OPERATIONS IN NORTH WESTERN KOREA
HE SEEMS TO HAVE NO SERIOUS OBJECTIONS TO THE X CORPS OPERATION EXCEPT THAT HE REMAINS INDIGNANT THAT X CORPS HAS NOT BEEN PLACED UNDER HIS COMMAND
WALKER MAKES THE POINT THAT ALL KOREAN OPERATIONS SHOULD BE COORDINATED AND THIS REQUIRES THAT THE X CORPS COMMANDER TAKE HIS ORDERS FROM THE EIGHTH ARMY COMMANDER
WALKER WAS ALSO HIGHLY INDIGNANT THAT AN L-20 BEAVER SIX PLACE LI
AISON AIRCRAFT WHICH HE CONSIDERS NECESSARY TO MOVE HIMSELF AND MEMBERS OF HIS STAFF AROUND KOREA WAS STOLEN BY A SO FAR UNLOCATABLE ARMY OFFICER WHILE EN ROUTE TO HIM
IN RE CHICOM INTERVENTION
MACARTHUR, WALKER FEEL THE POSSIBILITY IS VERY SLIGHT
W E B Griffin - Corp 10 - Retreat, Hell! Page 28
