"Yes, probably several people. We're going to send a Marine escort with the First Lady to show her around.", he replied. That was news to me, but I suppose it made sense.
Ari nodded. "Send both a man and a woman, and I'll line up a couple of reporters. Nothing big, though."
"Who are you planning on sending, Ari?", I asked.
"Depends on who I like and dislike when I get downstairs. General, this is going to break tomorrow morning. Have your press people call us here to coordinate our response. Doctor, you will need to brief me on Charlie's wounds. Mrs. Buckman, give him our best!" He stood up and said, "I need to work on this, Mister President."
"Go, Ari. I'll talk to you in a bit."
My day was totally shot by now, and Marilyn cancelled her lunch. I stayed with Marilyn and the girls as they all stewed and tried to figure out packing. After about an hour, I was rescued by the Marines, in the form of a pair of Marine Gunnery Sergeants, one of whom was a woman! That was probably the most surprising thing of all to me, and only went to show I was a hopeless dinosaur.
Ari called me down to his office before this was all done. In with him was Jennifer Loven, a reporter for the Associated Press, and Greg Kelly, from Fox News. Everybody stood up when I came in the office, and once inside, Ari moved around and closed the door. "Mister President, I found a couple of volunteers for you."
Jennifer looked at Ari and said, "Is that what we are? Volunteers? What have I been volunteered for?"
"I used to be a Marine, Ari. I can remember being volunteered before. What's going on?", added Greg.
Ari Fleischer deferred to me. "Mister President?"
"Mister Kelly, do you have a cameraman who can handle remote broadcasting by himself.", I asked.
Ari nodded and Greg said, "Yes. Why?"
"I am asking the both of you to buy a pig in a poke. I will explain what is happening but only if you both agree, right now, not to tell anybody, not even your bosses, the details, at least not until tomorrow. This will be a very exclusive story, but it needs to remain secret for one more day. If you say no, we will swap you out before we tell you. There will be travel involved."
Greg said, "What the hell!? Excuse me, Mister President, sorry about that." He looked over at Jennifer.
She just nodded and shrugged. "Okay, I'll bite. I'm in. What's up?"
I looked back at Greg. He threw his hands up and said, "Sure, why not?"
I nodded to myself and glanced at Ari, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded as well. "Okay, here's the short version. My son got all shot up in Monrovia the other day. The First Lady is going to be flying out to see him. We don't want to announce this until tomorrow, but she is leaving this evening. You two, plus your cameraman, Greg, will be traveling with her. This is going to be an exclusive for you. This won't be your average trip, either. We are arranging to send her out to the ships, and you'll report from the middle of the ocean."
"Oh my G ... Yes sir, I'm in!", he said.
"How is your son, Mister President?", asked Jennifer.
"He's pretty banged up, but he'll make it. Did either of you see the video footage of the Marine who was running through enemy fire to rescue people?" They both nodded at that. "That was him."
"I thought that kid died!", she said.
"No, but he did get wounded. I pretty much thought the same thing. Now, are you two both going to keep quiet and go along with this? I am betting you'll get some nice reporting out of it. You'll probably be gone a week or more.", I asked.
"Can we tell our bosses?", he asked.
I glanced at Ari, who said, "Tell them you will be away on an assignment, and that they cannot release that information, and that I will confirm it if they call me. Then at the press conference tomorrow, when this comes out, it will be explained that two reporters are traveling with Mrs. Buckman."
They both agreed to that, and I said, "Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road. Both of you follow me." We headed up to the Residence, and found the most astonishing sight. Marilyn was standing there in a Marine Corps BDU and combat boots, with one of those hats they call a cover perched on her curls, and wearing web gear and a backpack. She was grinning wildly as I came in. "Holy Christ!", I exclaimed. "They're drafting midgets!"
"Who says paratroopers are so tough!?", she replied. She shifted around with her backpack.
"Well, now I can die happy, because I have surely seen everything.", I said.
Jennifer Loven began fumbling through her purse and came out with a small digital camera. "I have to get a shot of this!"
"What's going on?", asked Marilyn.
"These are your ghost writers. They are going to help you write your book, What I Did On My Summer Vacation." Greg snorted at that, and Jennifer laughed and kept taking photos. "They are a couple of reporters. If I am sending you to see the troops, they are going to go with you."
"Good idea, Mister President." That was spoken by a naval lieutenant off to the side.
"Who are you?"
"Lieutenant Patrick Swanson, Public Information Officer. I will be accompanying the First Lady and her team."
I eyed him curiously. He was in his late twenties, and a naval lieutenant is the same as an army captain, an O-3. "Oh, okay. What's the plan? What's next? These two need to collect a cameraman and get some clothing and gear, I guess."
"Let me handle that, sir. We'll fly out of here at 1900. Let me talk to these folks for a moment, and then we'll get out of your hair."
I let him do his job, and went over to my wife. "Of all the ridiculous getups I've ever seen you wear, this has to take the cake!"
"Here, take this, it's heavy.", she said, trying to shrug out of the backpack.
I grabbed it and she managed to wriggle free. "I'm not impressed. Paratroopers wear chutes heavier than this, and top that off with an even heavier combat load."
"When will we leave and get there?"
I tossed the pack onto a chair and sat down with her on the sofa. I threw an arm around her shoulders. "You'll leave at 1900 or so. They'll fly you down to Oceana and load you on a transport and take off. No idea how long that flight takes, but I guess you'll land on the Lincoln in the early morning. After that, no idea. I don't know if you'll be close enough to fly from there, or if you have to sail closer. Probably tomorrow evening."
"I thought you knew this kind of stuff."
"The Navy and the Marines aren't as precise as the Army, dear."
"I am going to tell your son you said that!"
"So what? He's in the hospital. I can probably beat him up.", I replied. She laughed at that, and I added, "Now, seriously, I know the first thing you are going to want to do will be to see Charlie, but you're not just a mother, you're the First Lady. I want you to visit the ships, talk to the sailors and Marines, pose for pictures, all that sort of thing. Can you do that for me? It's important."
"Of course! It should be fun!"
I smiled to myself as I considered that. I had seen pictures of a C-2 COD landing on a carrier deck; it looked like a controlled crash. It definitely didn't look like fun! Still, I let her prattle on, half out of nervousness. We had a light lunch, after the PIO guy took the reporters out, and the two Gunnies joined us and told us some more of the planning. They had both seen sea duty several times and seemed to know what they were doing. After lunch I went back downstairs and did some more paperwork and reading.