"When you don't have to carry missionaries with you, you mean?"
"I didn't say that," McCoy said.
"No, but that's what you meant," she said.
McCoy stood up and put his campaign hat on. "I'll go down to the ferry and see what's up," he said. "You can stay here. You'll be all right."
Chapter Four
(One)
Chen- chiang, China 1500 Hours 15 May 1941
While the Reverend Feller, Lieutenant Macklin, and "Mr." Sessions ate in the "big" restaurant, and the Marine drivers at one of the tiny stalls, Ernie Zimmerman took the opportunity once again to carefully check the vehicles, paying particular attention to the tires. Changing a tire on a muddy road was bad enough, but changing one in the rain, at night, was a royal fucking pain in the ass.
Zimmerman found a couple of tires that looked as if they might blow, one on a truck, the other on one of the Studebaker sedans, and ordered them changed. McCoy and Zimmerman were watching a PFC remove the wheel of the car when Lieutenant Macklin and Sessions walked up to them.
"We about ready to roll, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Macklin asked.
"Aye, aye, sir," Zimmerman said.
"Well, get everyone loaded up, please," Macklin said. "We'd like a word with Corporal McCoy."
"Aye, aye, sir," Zimmerman said, and walked off toward the food stalls where the drivers were eating. Macklin and Sessions walked out of earshot of the driver changing the tire, and McCoy followed them.
"Under the circumstances, McCoy," Sessions said, "I decided that it was necessary to make Lieutenant Macklin aware of my real purpose in being here."
"Yes, sir," McCoy said.
He was not annoyed, but neither was he surprised. Sessions was more than a little pissed about their conversation in Nanking; and it was clear that Sessions was about to put him in his place. As missionaries have no authority to order Marine corporals around, it was necessary to let Macklin know who he actually was. He had thus told Macklin that he was an officer on a secret mission, and now they were both thrilled about their importance in the scheme of things-and prepared to deal with a lowly corporal who was standing in the way of their doing their duty. Captain Banning had warned him this was likely to happen.
"And we've been looking at the map," Sessions said. "Lieutenant Macklin thinks we can make it to Chiehshom before it gets dark. Do you agree with that?"
"Yes, sir," McCoy said. "It's a good place to spend the night. There's a good hotel there."
"So Lieutenant Macklin tells me," Sessions said. "More importantly, McCoy, it's not too far from Yenchi'eng, is it?"
McCoy's eyebrows went up as he looked at him. The Japanese 11th Infantry Division was at Yenchi'eng.
"No, sir," he said, "it's not."
"Have you ever been to Yenchi'eng, McCoy?" Sessions asked.
"Yes, sir," McCoy said.
"Do you know how the divisional artillery of the 11th Japanese Infantry is equipped?"
"Yes, sir," McCoy said. "They've got four batteries, they call it a regiment, of Model 94s. That's a 37-mm antitank cannon, but the Japs use it as regular artillery because they can throw so much fire. And the Chinese have damned little to use for counterfire."
"I want to check that out, McCoy," Lieutenant Sessions said.
"Sir?"
"I want to find out if the 11th Division has been equipped with German PAK38 (Panzerabwehrkanone, caliber 5cm, Model 1938) cannon."
"They haven't," McCoy said. "What they've got, Lieutenant, is maybe thirty-five Model 94s. Eight to a battery, plus spares."
"You seem very sure of that, McCoy," Lieutenant Macklin said.
"Yes, sir, I am."
"You know the difference between the two cannon?" Macklin pursued, more than a little sarcastic.
"The PAK38 is bigger, with a larger shield and larger wheels than the Model 94," McCoy said, on the edge of insolence, Lieutenant Macklin thought. "And it has a muzzle brake. They're not hard to tell apart."
"And you're absolutely sure the 11th Division doesn't have any of those cannon?" Sessions asked.
"I took some pictures of their artillery park a couple of weeks ago," McCoy said. "That's what they've got, Lieutenant. Thirty, maybe thirty-five 94s. Captain Banning sent the pictures to Washington."
"But we have no way of knowing, do we, Corporal McCoy, whether or not the Japanese have received German cannon since your last visit? Without having another look?" Macklin asked sarcastically.
"We have people watching the docks, and the railroad, and the roads. If the 11th Division had gotten any new artillery, we'd have heard about it."
" 'We'?" Macklin asked sarcastically.
"Captain Banning," McCoy said, accepting the rebuke, "has people watching the docks and the railroads and the roads."
"Under the circumstances-and after all, we are so close-I'm afraid I can't just accept that," Lieutenant Sessions said. "How long would you say it is by car from Chiehshom to Yenchi'eng?"
"If you drive down there, Lieutenant," McCoy said, "they're going to catch you, and you'll find yourself being entertained by the Japs for a couple of days."
"What do you mean by 'entertained'?"
"They'll take you on maneuvers," McCoy said. "Walk you around in the swamps all night, feed you raw fish, that sort of thing." He stopped, and then his mouth ran away with him: "Some of them have got a pretty good sense of humor. They had Lieutenant Macklin three days one time."
"That's quite enough, McCoy!" Macklin flared.
"Well then, we'll just have to make sure they don't catch us, won't we?" Lieutenant Sessions said.
"Lieutenant, I'm not going to Yenchi'eng with you," McCoy said. "I'm sorry."
"How long did you say it will take us to drive from Chiehshom to Yenchi'eng, Corporal?" Sessions asked.
"It's about a two-hour drive, maybe two and a half, with the roads like this."
"And you presumably can manage the road at night?"
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to Yenchi'eng with you," McCoy said.
"I didn't ask you if you had volunteered, Corporal," Lieutenant Sessions said reasonably. "The decision to go has been made by Lieutenant Macklin and myself. Your presence will lend your knowledge of the terrain to our enterprise. I don't have to remind you, do I, that despite your special relationship with Captain Banning, you still remain subject to the orders of your superiors?"
"Lieutenant," McCoy said, "you're putting me on a spot."
"The only spot you'll be on," Macklin flared, "is if you persist in your defiance."
McCoy looked at him, shrugged, and took an envelope from his hip pocket. He extended it toward Sessions.
"I think you better take a look at this, Lieutenant," he said.
"What is that?" Sessions asked.
"My orders, sir, in writing," McCoy said. "Captain Banning said I wasn't to give them to you unless I had to. I think I have to."
Sessions took the envelope, tore it open, and unfolded the sheet of paper inside. He glanced at the sheet and then shook his head.
"What is it?" Lieutenant Macklin asked.
"It's a set of letter orders," Sessions said, and then read it aloud: 'Headquarters, 4th Marines, Shanghai, 13 May 1941. Subject, Letter Orders. To Corporal Kenneth J. McCoy, Headquarters Company, First Battalion, 4th Marines. Your confidential orders concerning the period 14 May 1941 to 14 June 1941 have been issued to you verbally by Captain Edward Banning, USMC. You are reminded herewith that no officer or noncommissioned officer assigned or attached to the 4th Regiment, USMC, is authorized to amend or countermand
your orders in any way.' " Sessions looked at Macklin. "Corporal McCoy's letter orders are signed by the colonel."
"Well, I'll be damned," Macklin said. "I never heard of such a thing."
"Lieutenant," McCoy said to Macklin. "I wish you'd read those orders."
"Just what the hell do you mean by that?" Macklin snapped.
"With respect, sir," McCoy said. "I'd like to burn them."
"Go ahead and burn them," Macklin said coldly.
Sessions handed the orders back to McCoy, who ripped the single sheet of paper into long strips, which he then carefully burned, one at a time, letting the wind blow the ashes and unburned stub from his fingers.