Christ, that's the last thing I need!
But it was not a Navy officer but a Marine officer whom Dawkins knew personally, who stepped out of the passenger seat, walked to the rear of the station wagon, and withdrew two canvas suitcases. He started up the walk to the building.
The last time I saw him was on the 'Canal, when I pinned the DFC onto his sweat-soaked khaki shirt.
The officer was now wearing a splendidly tailored Marine Green uniform. His gold Naval Aviator's wings sat atop three lines of ribbons.
He's got his weight back. He looks good.
Dawkins looked at the document in his lap. It directed him (and every other commanding officer of Navy and Marine units on Oahu) to personally encourage his officers and men to participate in religious-worship services of their choice on a weekly basis. He tossed the document into his wastebasket, rose from behind his desk, and walked out of his office.
The officer whom he had last seen on Guadalcanal was standing before the desk of Dawkins's sergeant major, who was reading the officer's orders.
«Well, I'll be damned,» Colonel Dawkins said. «Look what came in with the tide. How are you, Pickering? What brings you here?»
«Good afternoon, sir,» Lieutenant Malcolm S. Pickering, USMCR, said.
Dawkins went to his sergeant major and took the orders from his hand. «A word of warning, Sergeant Major,» Dawkins said. «Don't play poker with this officer.»
«Yes, sir,» the sergeant major said, smiling. He'd liked the looks of this Marine officer from the moment he walked in the door. Not only did he look like a Marine officer was supposed to look, but he had the DFC and the Purple Heart to prove he wasn't a candy-ass. The way he was greeted by Colonel Dawkins confirmed that judgment.
As Dawkins read Lieutenant Pickering's orders, he shook his head in what could have been either disbelief or disgust.
S E C R E T
UNITED STATES NAVAL AIR STATION
MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE
30 MARCH 1943
SUBJECT: LETTER ORDERS
TO: 1ST LIEUTENANT MALCOLM S. PICKERING, USMCR
VMF-262
US NAVAL AIR STATION
MEMPHIS, TENN.
1. REFERENCE IS MADE TO TWX (SECRET) HQ, USMC, DATED 9 MAR 1943, SUBJECT: «SOLICITATION OF VOLUNTEERS FOR HAZARDOUS DUTY.»
2. HAVING VOLUNTEERED FOR SUCH ASSIGNMENT, YOU ARE THIS DATE DETACHED FROM VMF-262, THIS STATION, AND ATTACHED TO CINCPAC ON TEMPORARY DUTY FOR AN INDEFINITE PERIOD. ON COMPLETION OF THIS TEMPORARY DUTY, YOU WILL BE PERMANENTLY ASSIGNED BY CINCPAC WITHIN THE PACIFIC THEATER OF OPERATIONS.
3. YOU WILL PROCEED NO LATER THAN 5 APRIL 1943 TO US NAVAL BASE, SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA, FOR FURTHER SHIPMENT TO CINCPAC. A FOUR (4) DAY DELAY EN ROUTE LEAVE TO YOUR HOME OF RECORD (C/0 PACIFIC & FAR EAST SHIPPING CORPORATION, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.) IS AUTHORIZED.
4. TRAVEL BY US GOVERNMENT AND/OR CIVILIAN RAIL AND AIR TRANSPORTATION IS AUTHORIZED BETWEEN USNAS MEMPHIS AND USNB SAN DIEGO, AND US GOVERNMENT AND/OR CIVILIAN AIR TRANSPORTATION PRIORITY AAAAA IS DIRECTED BETWEEN SAN DIEGO AND OAHU, T.H.
BY DIRECTION: JESSE R. BALL, REAR ADMIRAL, USN OFFICIAL:
Roger H. Walters
CAPTAIN, USN
S E C R E T
When he finished reading the orders, he exhaled audibly before handing them back to his sergeant major. He looked at Lieutenant Pickering and shook his head.
«When I got to Pearl Harbor, Colonel,» Pick said. «They sent me here to report to you.»
«Come in here, Pickering,» Dawkins said, pointing to his open office door. He added to his sergeant major, «Unless it's Admiral Nimitz, I'm unavailable at the moment and will get back to them.»
«Aye, aye, sir.»
«Or Major Dillon. I'll talk to him. As a matter of fact, see if you can find Major Dillon.»
«Aye, aye, sir.»
Dawkins followed Pickering into his office and closed the door after them. «You want to tell me what this is all about, Pickering?»
«Sir, I was given the opportunity to volunteer for this mission, and did so.»
«Why does your nobility strike me as bullshit, pure and simple? Unless, of course, you've lost your mind,» Dawkins said, not unkindly. And then, before Pickering could even begin to frame an answer, he thought of something else.
«Where did you get qualified in a PBY-5A? The last time I looked at your records, you had maybe twenty-five hours in the right seat of a Gooney Bird, all of it when you went off with Charley Galloway on that lunatic mission to Buka. And you had zero hours in a Catalina. Is my memory failing me, Lieutenant Pickering?»
«Just before I came over here, I got a crash course in the Catalina, sir. Thirty hours in four days.»
Dawkins looked at Pickering for a long moment. «Up to you, Pick,» he said finally. «You can tell me what's going on or not. If you're in some kind of jam, I'll go to bat for you, you know that.»
«The truth is, sir, I got in a little trouble in Memphis. I was offered my choice of volunteering for this, or a court-martial. Preceded by grounding.»
«What kind of trouble?»
«There was a lady involved, sir.»
Dawkins raised his eyebrows.
«And there were some minor things, too, sir, to be truthful. Speeding tickets, out of uniform. Things like that.»
«If Billy Dunn offered you the choice between a court-martial and volunteering for this operation, there's more to it than a couple of speeding tickets. Or were you perhaps drunk when they arrested you for speeding?»
«Just once, sir, and I got that downgraded to reckless driving. And it wasn't Billy who gave me the choice, it was the Admiral.»
«What you're saying, in other words, is that Billy—out of misguided loyalty— covered for you while you were showing your ass, but you were such an all around fuckup that it got to the Admiral? What admiral?»
«The Memphis NAS admiral, sir. Who is friend of a friend of the lady's husband.»
«You were fooling around with a married woman?»
«Yes, sir.»
«Did this admiral know who your father is?»
«Yes, sir. Dad—and General Mclnerney—were at Memphis just before the Admiral… sent for me.»
«You were about to say something other than 'sent for me'?»
«Placed me under arrest, sir.»
«You're a disgrace to your uniform, Pickering. Do you understand that? There's more to being a Marine officer than flying an airplane.»
«Yes, sir. I've had time to consider that.»
«Worse than that, you let Billy Dunn down. He needed you. The kids you were training needed you.»
«Yes, sir. I've had time to consider that, too.»
«Let me tell you the situation here. For administrative convenience, all the volunteers for this mission—the legitimately noble volunteers and you—will be attached to MAG-21 for rations, quarters, and administration. I command MAG-21.»