«Who knows? On one hand, the statistics suggest that if you live through the first thirty days, you have a good chance of finishing the tour. On the other hand, everybody dies sooner or later. But in the meantime, Jim, I've had Margie and the boy. That's what it's all about.»
«Yeah, I guess.»
«End of speech,» Williamson said. «Except to say, when you're on the merry-go-round and a brass ring like Martha's is within reach, grab it.»
Weston shrugged.
Then he pointed ahead, out the window. A flight of perhaps twenty Army Air Corps C-47s—essentially identical to the Navy R4-D they were flying—was 2,000 feet below them, making a wide turn toward Fort Benning.
«What they're going to do,» Williamson explained, «is go down to about thirty-five hundred feet and drop their parachutists. There's drop zones all over this area.»
«I don't think I'd want to do that,» Weston said. «Jump out of an airplane.»
«You ever see a drop?»
«No, sir.»
«Why don't you drop down to about forty-five hundred feet, and stay behind that formation and watch? It's something you should see.»
Weston reached the trim tab to lower the R4-D's nose, then reached for the throttle quadrant to retard power.
With a little bit of luck
, he thought,
the «why don't you marry Martha» speech is really over
.
The thing is, he's absolutely right. If it wasn't for one small problem
—
Janice, who I also really love
—I
would marry Martha in a minute
.
note 57
Espiritu Santo Island
New Hebrides, Southern Pacific Ocean
1505 22 March 1943
Chief Boatswain's Mate William Haber, USN, a lithe, muscular, natty thirty-nine-year-old with twenty-two years of Naval service, happened to be standing before the skipper's desk when the telephone rang.
Lieutenant Commander J. K. Sloane, Civil Engineer Corps, USNR, commanding officer of the 3rd Naval Construction Battalion, pointed at the telephone, indicating that Chief Haber should take the call, rather than the clerk in the outer office.
«Third CBs. Chief Haber speaking, sir.»
«This is Lieutenant Stevens, Chief, Admiral Henton's aide.»
Rear Admiral Jerome J. Henton, USN, commanded U.S. Navy Base (Forward) Espiritu Santo.
«How may I help the Lieutenant, sir?» Chief Haber said, very courteously. He almost came to attention.
Chief petty officers with twenty-two years of service are not normally very impressed with lieutenants. Lieutenants who are aides-de-camp to flag officers— who sit, so to speak, at the foot of the throne of God—are an exception.
Commander Sloane, who looked very much like Chief Haber, lithe, muscular, and natty, picked up on the change of voice. While a mere reservist, he
was
a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis. He looked up at Chief Haber in interest.
«Yes, sir, we have a Chief McGuire aboard,» Chief Haber said.
Now Commander Sloane was really interested.
Chief Carpenter's Mate Peter T. McGuire, USNR, known popularly as «Chief Hollywood»—if he was to be believed, and Commander Sloane was among the dubious, he not only was acquainted with many Hollywood stars, but also had carnal knowledge of many of them—was not only a reservist but had never worn a uniform, much less been to sea aboard a man-of-war, until the day he had raised his hand and been sworn into the Naval Service as a chief petty officer.
In order to form its construction battalions—the Seabees—the Navy had tried to recruit highly skilled civilian construction workers and other civil engineering specialists. Construction foremen, demolition experts, and heavy-equipment operators were not, however, about to swap ajob that was high-paying and almost always essential to the war effort, and thus exempt from the draft, in order to become seaman apprentices at twenty-one dollars a month. The solution was threefold: an appeal to patriotism, an assurance that their skills would be utilized by the Navy— that they would not find themselves mopping decks or peeling potatoes—and enlistment in a grade appropriate to their civilian skills and years of experience.
Peter T. McGuire more than met all the requirements for enlistment as a chief petty officer. If his application was to be believed—and again Commander Sloane was among the dubious—he could not only operate just about every piece of heavy construction and road-building equipment known to engineering, but was also licensed by the state of California as an «unlimited explosives technician»
and
as a master electrician. Commander Sloane would be the first to admit that whenever he told McGuire what he wanted done, it had been done—and done well—with astonishing speed. But Chief McGuire did not conduct himself as Commander Sloane—or Chief Haber—thought a chief should. Chiefs are supposed to supervise, not do the necessary manual tasks themselves. Chief McGuire did not seem to understand this. Although he had been told, time and time again, with increasing firmness, that he was to
supervise
his men, Sloane knew that the minute he or Chief Haber turned their backs, Chief McGuire was wielding a sledgehammer, or, more frequently, operating a Caterpillar D-6 bulldozer or a road grader—or some other kind of heavy equipment—most often with his shirt off.
«Aye, aye, sir,» Chief Haber said. «I'll have Chief McGuire report to you immediately, sir. Sir, it may take a little while. Chief McGuire is at Auxiliary Field Two, sir.»
In addition to other assigned construction tasks, the 3rd Seabees had been ordered to remove the pierced steel planking that «paved» the runway of Auxiliary Field #2 and to extend the length of the runway and then pave it with concrete. Chief McGuire had been charged with removing the pierced steel planking and then with site preparation of the new runway.
Admiral Henton's aide said something else Commander Sloane could not overhear.
«Aye, aye, sir, thank you, sir,» Chief Haber said, very courteously, and hung up. He looked at Commander Sloane. «The Admiral wants to see McGuire right now.»
«What the hell is that all about?» Commander Sloane wondered aloud.
Chief Haber shrugged.
«Well, you better go out to Auxiliary Two and get him,» Commander Sloane ordered, and then changed his mind. «Tell you what, Chief, I'll go get him, and
you
get on the horn to your pal in the Admiral's office and see if you can find out what the hell this is all about. What the hell has McGuire done now?»
Although no witnesses could be found to testify against Chief McGuire in a court-martial, it was common knowledge that Chief McGuire, who was six feet three inches tall and weighed 230 pounds, had thrown two fellow chief petty officers through the screen enclosed verandah of the Chiefs' Club after they'd made remarks about the Seabees that he'd considered disparaging.
«Aye, aye, sir,» Chief Haber said.
When his aide informed him that Chief McGuire was at Auxiliary #2 and it might take a little while to get him to the Admiral's office, the Admiral also changed his mind about the best place to meet with the Chief:
«Okay,» the Admiral said. «The minute he gets here, bring him in.»
«Aye, aye, sir.»