"Your airplane is dirty," Colonel Neville said.
"Sir?"
"The port engine nacelle and wing. They’re filthy!"
The pilot looked surprised and went to look.
"Don’t you have a uniform cap?" Neville called after him.
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," the pilot said. He took a fore-and-aft cap from the pocket of his leather jacket and put it on.
An enlisted man’s cap! That goddamned Hershberger knows how important a mission this is to me and to the Para-Marines, and he’s sent me a goddamned Flying Sergeant!
Neville walked to the wing.
"Sir, they drained the oil at Willow Grove. I guess they spilled a little, and it picked up crud from the taxiway and runway," Charley Galloway said.
"Well, have it cleaned up," Neville said. "We don’t want Life’s readers to think the Marine Corps tolerates filthy aircraft, do we?"
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"Tell me, Sergeant, does Colonel Hershberger routinely send noncoms on missions of this importance?"
"I don’t think, Sir, that the Colonel had any qualified officer pilots to send."
That’s so much bullshit and we both know it.Goddamn Hershberger!
"Colonel, I have two lieutenants on board," Galloway said, adding, "pilots, I mean."
"Then where are they? I told your crew chief I wanted to speak to the pilot."
"Sir, I’m pilot-in-command."
"How can that be, Sergeant?" Neville said, making what he recognized to be a valiant effort not to jump all over the sergeant. He was a sergeant; he was just doing what he was told. "With officer pilots, how can you be in command?"
"Colonel Hershberger set it up that way, Sir."
"Would you tell the officers I would like a word with them, Sergeant, please?"
"Aye, aye, Sir."
Lieutenants Ward and Schneider were standing on the ground beside the rear door when Charley Galloway went to fetch them.
"Colonel Neville would like to see you, gentlemen," he said loudly, and added softly, "Watch yourselves. He’s got his balls in an uproar about something."
Lieutenant Schneider gave Galloway a withering look, and then saluted Colonel Neville as he appeared.
"Which of you is senior?" Neville asked.
"I believe I am, Sir," Jim Ward said.
"Jack," Galloway said to the crew chief, "will you get the crud off the port nacelle and wing?"
"What the hell for?" the crew chief replied. "The minute we start to taxi through this shit, it’ll get dirty again."
"Do me a favor, Jack," Galloway said, nodding his head toward Neville. "Do what you can to clean it up."
Neville felt his temper rise. An order had been given. Instead of carrying it out, the recipient had replied "What the hell for?" And instead of immediately correcting the man on the spot, the response was "Do me a favor." And all of this with two commissioned officers watching and doing or saying nothing.
These people, none of them, are Marines. They’re goddamned civilians wearing Marine uniforms!
"Then, Lieutenant, may I presume you’re in charge of this aircraft?"
"No, Sir."
" ‘No, Sir’?" Neville echoed incredulously. "Are you qualified to fly this aircraft or not?"
"I’m checked out in the R4D, Sir. Yes, Sir."
"Then, according to the Customs of the Service, since you are the senior officer present," Neville pursued icily, "doesn’t it then follow that you are in charge of this aircraft?"
"Sir, Colonel Hershberger, the Chief of Staff, 1stMarine Air Wing-"
"I know who Colonel Hershberger is, Mr. Ward," Neville interrupted him.
"Sir, Colonel Hershberger appointed Sergeant Galloway as pilot-in-command," Ward said uncomfortably.
"I never heard of such a thing!" Neville exploded.
"Sir," Galloway said, "I’ve got more experience in the R4D than either of these officers. I believe, considering the importance of this mission, that that’s what Colonel Hershberger had in mind."
"Are you in the habit of offering your opinions before they’re solicited, Sergeant?" Neville flared.
"No, Sir, sorry, Sir."
There was the sound of aircraft engines. Charley Galloway’s eyes rose involuntarily toward the sky and confirmed what his ears had told him: Pratt and Whitney Wasp, probably the six-hundred-horse R1340-49. More than one.
There were two North American Texans in the landing pattern.
"There are my other aircraft," Colonel Neville announced. "Mr. Ward, will you give my compliments to their pilots, and ask them to join me in my office as soon as possible? And bring this officer and the sergeant with you."
(Two)
The shit,thought Technical Sergeant Charles Galloway, is about to hit the fan.
He rose, very reluctantly, to his feet.
"You have a question, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Richard B. Macklin asked. He had just finished explaining, with the help of a blackboard and a pointer, where the Texans would fly relative to the R4D, so that the still and motion-picture photographers could capture the Para-Marines jumping from the R4D’s door.
"Sir, that would be dangerous," Charley said.
"Would it, now?" Macklin asked, smiling but sarcastic.
"Sir, one aircraft flying close to the R4D is dangerous enough. Two are too dangerous."
"Would you care to explain your position?"
"Yes, Sir. I’ll be flying the R4D-"
"That hasn’t been decided yet," Lieutenant Colonel Neville said.
"Sir, whoever is flying the R4D will have enough trouble keeping his eye on one Texan. It would impossible to keep an eye on both of them, if they were flying close enough to take pictures."
"And?" Macklin asked, now clearly sarcastic. "Are you suggesting that they would fly into you, Sergeant?" He looked at the two Texan pilots, both lieutenants junior grade, and smiled at them. "I’m sure these officers are skilled enough not to do that."
"I’m more concerned about dropping the paratroops-"
"Para-Marines,"Colonel Neville said.
"-into the flight path of one of the Texans," Charley finished.
"That’s our concern, Sergeant, isn’t it?"
"No, Sir, with respect, it’s mine," Charley said.
"Galloway," one of the Naval Aviators said, "believe me, I intend to stay as far away from you as I can."
Galloway smiled at him, but didn’t reply.
"I presume your concerns have been put to rest, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Macklin said.
"No, Sir," Charley said. "With respect, they haven’t."
"What exactly are you saying, Sergeant?" Colonel Neville asked.
"Sir . . . Sir, if you put two Texans near my aircraft at the same time, I won’t drop your paratroops."
"Then we won’t burden you with that responsibility, Sergeant. Lieutenant Schneider will pilot the R4D. I can see no necessity for you even to be aboard."
"Sir, Lieutenant Schneider is not qualified to drop parachutists. I won’t authorize him to do so."
"Well, we’ll just see about that, Sergeant," Neville flared. "We’ll see who’s authorized to give-or refuse-orders around here. Will you all wait outside, please? Macklin, get Colonel Hershberger on the telephone. Make it a priority call."