"And the Navy didn't like that idea?" Banning asked.
"The Pearl Harbor admirals didn't like it worth a damn," Pickering replied. "Admiral Ghormley, on the other hand, thought MacArthur's plan made more sense than anything else he'd heard..."
"Excuse me, Sir," Banning interrupted. "What had he heard? What does the Navy want to do?"
"I'm telling you all this more to get it straight in my mind than for any other reason," Pickering said, a little sharply. "Let me do it my way, please, Banning."
"Sorry, Sir," Banning said, genuinely contrite.
"Ghormley, as I was saying, not only thought Mac-Arthur's plan made more sense than the Navy's, but fired off radios saying so. More important than Ghormley, so did General Marshall. And you know that Marshall and MacArthur agree on damned little. The day MacArthur's courier officer-he was really more than a courier; he was one of the assistant G-3s, a really bright lieutenant colonel, who knew what was in his briefcase. Anyway, the day he got to see the Chief of Staff in Washington, Marshall presented MacArthur's plan to Admiral King. Since New Britain was in MacArthur's territory, logically the operation should be under his command. But he threw in a bone for King: King would appoint an Admiral to actually run the operation, under MacArthur."
"And?" Banning asked.
"On June twenty-fifth, King gave the Navy's plan to Marshall. Instead of MacArthur-or an Admiral under Mac-Arthur's orders-attacking New Britain, King wanted a force under Admiral Nimitz-in other words, not under MacArthur-to make an attack in the Solomons and the Santa Cruz islands, as a first step toward taking New Britain. King wanted MacArthur to stage a diversionary attack against Timor, near the Australian Coast."
"And, of course, the Army doesn't like the Navy's idea?" Banning asked rhetorically.
"No," Pickering replied. "And with good reason. They think that the thing to do is hit New Britain first-specifically, the big Jap base at Rabaul. Our land-based bombers could support the attack, and probably take the airbases out long enough so they wouldn't pose much of a problem for us while we're getting ashore. Then, once we had captured the airbases and got them up and running, Army fighter planes could relieve the Navy's carrier-based fighters. And then once we had Rabaul, we could keep the Japs from supplying or reinforcing their other bases within bomber range. They'd be rendered impotent.
"There's no argument over the importance of Rabaul, just when and how to take it. The Navy wants to start with Tulagi and move to Rabaul gradually. The Army agrees that it would be easier to take Tulagi first than it would be to take Rabaul, but argues that as we move northward to Rabaul afterward, all our operations would be under attack from Rabaul-based bombers. And, further, as soon as the Japanese see what our obvious plans are, they would have time to reinforce Rabaul with both ground and air forces."
"So what's going to happen?" Banning asked.
"Theoretically, the matter is still under consideration by the Joint Chiefs of Staff," Pickering said drily.
" 'Theoretically'?" Banning asked.
"King apparently thinks he will prevail when the decision is made by the President. He's ordered Nimitz to prepare to attack in the Solomons, with or without MacArthur's support. Nimitz relayed that order to Ghormley. So the First Marines are either about to start making up the Operations Orders for the invasion of Guadalcanal, or they already have them now."
"How do you know that?"
"Don't ask, Major," Pluto Hon said softly. "You really don't want to know."
"What do you think's going to happen, Captain?" Banning asked.
"Franklin Roosevelt hates MacArthur, and he loves King and the U.S. Navy. He is probably going to rationalize his decision to go with King by deciding that Marshall's agreement with MacArthur on this is based on Marshall hating the Navy even more than he hates MacArthur. Logic will have little to do with it."
"Jesus!" Banning said softly.
"And of course," Pickering added, "Admiral King is certainly going to walk into the Oval Office and dramatically throw the aerial photographs the Air Corps took of this field on Guadalcanal onto the presidential desk. It will be an effective cap to his argument."
"Isn't it?" Banning asked.
"If we had Rabaul, the Japs could not supply an airfield on Guadalcanal," Pickering said. "And it seems to me that if a B-17 could take pictures of the field on Guadalcanal, B-17s could bomb it, too."
Banning looked as if he was going to say something, but had then decided against it. He held his glass up.
"May I have another of these, Sir?"
"Sure, Ed," Pickering said. "You don't have to ask. Help yourself." Then he added: "But in any event, the more information we have about the field on Guadalcanal, and the sooner we get it, the better."
Banning, halfway across the room to the liquor, stopped and turned.
"At this moment, as I am about to help myself to another belt of your splendid booze, and about to sit down to a baron of lamb - Mrs. Cavendish told me about the lamb - at least four Coastwatchers are slopping through some of the nastiest mountain jungle in the world to get us that information, Captain."
Pickering grunted. And then he said, "Christ, I'd like to sit all four of them-plus Lieutenant Howard and Sergeant Koffler-down to dinner with King, MacArthur, and the other prima donnas."
Banning chuckled. "Chunk of fire-blackened wild pig, cold rice, and washed down with a nice canteen cup of Eau de chlorine, "42."
Pickering laughed. "Yeah," he said.
(Two)
HEADQUARTERS, 1ST MARINE DIVISION
WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND
0815 HOURS 29 JUNE 1942
"Gentlemen," Major General A. A. Vandergrift's aide-decamp announced, "the commanding general."
The thirty-odd officers in the room, almost all of them field grade, the half dozen senior non-commissioned officers, and the one PFC (there to operate a slide projector), came to attention.
Major General Vandergrift strode into the room.
"Take your seats, gentlemen," he said conversationally, as he stepped behind a rather crude lectern. A bedsheet had been thumbtacked to the wall behind him.
"This won't take long," Vandergrift began when the noise of folding chairs scraping on the floor had died down. "We have a lot to do, and precious little time to do it in, and we can't afford the luxury of wasting any time at all. I have just returned..."
He stopped and looked directly at Major Jake Dillon, who was seated in the last row of folding chairs.
"Major, I certainly don't mean to embarrass you, but what are you doing in here?"
"Sir," Brigadier General "Lucky Lew" Harris said, as he got to his feet, "I asked Major Dillon to attend."
Vandergrift's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Then I suppose we can presume Major Dillon is cleared for TOP SECRET," Vandergrift said, "which is how this meeting is classified, and that he has a Need to Know."