«L.A.,» Chief McGuire said. «We both used to work for Metro-Magnum.»
«The motion picture studio?»
«Yes, sir…«
That's the first time he said «Sir»
! Commander Sloane thought.
»… I was chief of construction,» Chief McGuire went on, «and ol' Jake was the publicity guy.»
«Well, Chief, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that you're soon going to see you friend again.»
«Really?»
Admiral Henton handed Chief McGuire a sheet of teletypewriter paper.
P R I O R I T Y
S E C R E T
CINCPAC
1005 21 MARCH 1943
FLAG OFFICER COMMANDING US NAVY BASE (FORWARD) ESPIRITU SANTO
1. CINCPAC RECORDS INDICATE THAT CHIEF PETTY OFFICER PETER T. MCGUIRE, USNR, IS ASSIGNED TO 3RD USN CONSTRUCTION BATTALION ON ESPIRITU SANTO. YOU PERSONALLY OR A SUITABLY SENIOR OFFICER IF YOU ARE NOT AVAILABLE WILL ON RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE INTERVIEW CHIEF MCGUIRE AND DETERMINE IF HE IS PERSONALLY ACQUAINTED WITH MAJOR HOMER C.(NICKNAME) QUOTE JAKE ENDQUOTE DILLON, USMCR.
2. IF THE ANSWER IS IN THE AFFIRMATIVE, CHIEF MCGUIRE WILL BE IMMEDIATELY DETACHED FROM 3RD USN CONSTRUCTION BATTALION AND TRANSFERRED CINCPAC. AIR TRAVEL IS DIRECTED PRIORITY AAAAA.
3. CINCPAC WILL BE NOTIFIED BY SEPARATE PRIORITY MESSAGE CLASSIFICATION SECRET WHETHER CHIEF MCGUIRE IS OR IS NOT ACQUAINTED WITH MAJOR DILLON, AND IF HE IS, THE DATE AND TIME OF HIS DEPARTURE FROM ESPIRITU SANTO.
4. IF FEASIBLE CHIEF MCGUIRE SHOULD TRAVEL TO US NAVY BASE PEARL HARBOR ABOARD A PBY-5A AIRCRAFT. IN THIS CASE, CREW OF PBY-5A SHOULD FAMILIARIZE CHIEF MCGUIRE WITH ALL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AIRCRAFT, WITH EMPHASIS ON REFUELING, ENROUTE.
BY DIRECTION NTMITZ, ADMIRAL, USN,
CINCPAC OFFICIAL: D.J.WAGAM, RADM USN
S E C R E T
«Jesus, I wonder what the hell this is all about,» Chief McGuire said.
«I thought perhaps you could tell me.»
«'I haven't a clue, Admiral. Do I have to go?»
«One of the quaint customs of the Navy, Chief,» Admiral Henton said, smiling, «is that when the Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet, says 'go,' we go.»
«I really hate to fly,» Chief McGuire said.
«So do I, Chief,» Admiral Henton said. «Why don't you give that TWX to Commander Sloane, so he'll know what's going on?»
«Sure,» Chief McGuire said. «Here you go, Commander.»
note 58
Office of the Chief Signal Officer
Headquarters, U.S. Military Mission to China
Chungking, China
25 March 1943
The dusty GM six-by-six truck jerked to a halt before the entrance to a tunnel. Outside was a wooden sign reading, «Signal Section, USMMCHI.» Lieutenant Colonel Edward J. Banning, USMC, holding a Thompson submachine gun in his hand, climbed down from the cab and walked to the rear of the truck. «We're here,» he announced, as he began to remove the chain holding the two-foot-high rear «gate» in place.
With a grace surprising for his bulk, Gunnery Sergeant Zimmerman jumped out of the truck. «I'll get that, Colonel,» he said.
When the gate was down, Captain Ken McCoy and Master Gunner Harry Rutterman jumped off the truck and started unloading their luggage and the crates marked «Personnel Records, Not To Be Opened Without The Specific Written Permission of the Adjutant General.»
Banning entered the tunnel. After his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could see signs identifying the various offices the tunnel contained. It reminded him of Corregidor, except that on Corregidor the tunnels were lined with concrete; here the tunnel was naked rock. He found a wide area in the tunnel, a place where it looked like someone had decided to carve another lateral and then changed his mind.
He walked back to the mouth.
«Ken,» he called, «there's a wide place inside. Put everything there and wait for me. I'll go see what happens next.»
McCoy, holding one of the «Personnel Record» crates, nodded and started to carry it into the tunnel.
Banning turned back inside. After proceeding quite a long way, he found what he was looking for, a sign announcing the space off the main tunnel that housed the office of the Signal Officer, USMMCHI. There was a door in a wooden wall; he opened it and walked though, finding himself in a perfectly ordinary military office—except of course, there were no windows. It held four desks, filing cabinets, a safe, and a rack for clothing. At the largest desk sat an Army Signal Corps lieutenant colonel. Banning walked up to the desk, and after a moment the officer raised his eyes from the papers on his desk.
«Good morning,» Banning said. «I'm Ed Banning. I'd like to see the Signal Officer, please.»
«The General is not available at the moment, Colonel,» the army lieutenant Colonel said. «Perhaps I can help you?»
«I have to see him, I'm afraid,» Lieutenant Colonel Edward J. Banning, USMC, replied. «When could I do that?»
«Why do you want to see the General, Colonel?» the Army lieutenant colonel said. There was a touch of impatience in his voice.
«I'm not at liberty to discuss that,» Banning replied.
«The General is a very busy man.»
«I'm sure he is,» Banning said.
His temper was a little short too. It had been a very long flight from Newark. The original idea had been to spend only enough time on the ground to take on fuel and perform necessary minor maintenance. That had worked. This meant they had spent long hours trying to sleep on the floor of the Curtis Commando's fuselage, with the roar of the engines as background, three quarters of the way around the world until, after «Flying the Hump,» they had arrived in Kunming, China. There the weather had been so bad, they had to spend two days in a flea-infested transient billet until they could make the final leg into Chungking.
No one came to meet them at the airport—which was, of course, to be expected. But the Air Corps personnel running the terminal did not consider it their responsibility to see that incoming passengers got from the airfield to wherever they were going. Gunner Rutterman and Gunny Zimmerman had finally commandeered an Air Corps General Motors six-by-six truck by offering its PFC driver the choice of helping them out or having his arms pulled off at the shoulder.
«My job,» the Signal Corps lieutenant colonel said, «is to see that people don't waste the General's time.»
Banning was tempted to show his orders to the officer—he quickly came to think of him as «this idiot»—but decided that wouldn't be wise. This idiot was the type who wouldn't be able to wait until he got to the Officers' Club to start telling his pals about the Marines who had just arrived on Top Secret orders issued by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
The door to the chief signal officer's outer office suddenly opened and a major general marched in. He was a short, stocky man, with a pencil-line mustache. He was wearing a brimmed cap with the crown stiffener removed, a la Air Corps pilots, and an open necked khaki shirt with two silver stars on each collar point. Over that he was wearing a jacket that looked like something Ernest Hemingway would wear while shooting lions in Africa. There were two stars on each epaulet. He had a swagger stick clutched in his hand.