The general, Pickering decided as he stood at attention, was not very friendly, and he was unabashedly studying him with interest.
"So you're Malcolm Pickering," General Mclnerney said finally. "You must take after your mother. You don't look at all like your dad."
Pickering was so startled that for a moment his eyes flickered from their prescribed focus six inches over the general's head.
"You may sit, Mr. Pickering," General Mclnerney said. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, sir," Pick Pickering said. "Thank you, sir."
A sergeant appeared, apparently in reply to the pushing of an unseen buzzer button.
"This is Lieutenant Pickering, Sergeant Wallace," General Mclnerney said. "He will probably be around here for a while."
The sergeant offered his hand.
"How do you do, sir?" he said.
"Lieutenant Pickering's father and I were in the war to end all wars together," General Mclnerney said, dryly.
"Is that so?" the sergeant said.
"And the lieutenant's father called me and, for auld lang syne, Sergeant Wallace, asked me to take care of his boy. And of course, I said I would."
"I understand, sir."
Pickering felt sick and furious.
"I think we can start off by getting the lieutenant a cup of coffee."
"Aye, aye, sir," Sergeant Wallace said. "How would you like your coffee. Lieutenant?"
"Black, please," Pickering said.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"You get fixed up all right with a BOQ?" General Mclnerney inquired. "Or are you perhaps staying in a hotel? A Foster hotel?"
"I'm in the Lafayette, sir."
"I thought you might be," General Mclnerney said. "I mean, what the hell, if your family owns hotels… how many hotels does your family own, Lieutenant?"
"There are forty-two, sir," Pick said.
"What the hell, if your family owns forty-two hotels, why not stay in one of them, right? There's certainly no room service in the BOQ, is there?"
"No, sir."
The coffee was delivered.
"Thank you, Sergeant," Pickering said.
"Certainly, sir," Sergeant Wallace said.
"I guess it took a little getting used to, not having someone to fetch coffee for you. At Quantico, I mean?" General Mclnerney asked.
"Yes, sir," Pickering said.
"Well, at least here, you'll have Sergeant Wallace and several other enlisted men around for that sort of thing. It won't be quite like home, but it will be a little better than running around in the boondocks with a rifle platoon."
"Yes, sir," Pickering said.
"It's not quite what the Corps had in mind for you," General Mclnerney said, "but I've arranged for you to be my junior aide-de-camp. How does that sound?"
"Permission to speak frankly, sir?" Pickering asked.
"Of course," General Mclnerney said.
"My father had no right to ask you to do anything for me," Pickering said. "I knew nothing about it. If I had any idea that he was even thinking about something like that, I would have told him to keep his nose out of my business."
"Is that so?" General Mclnerney said, doubtfully.
"Yes, Sir," Pickering said fervently, "that's so. And with respect, Sir, I do not want to be your aide-de-camp."
"I don't recall asking whether or not you wanted to be my aide. I presented that as a fact. I have gone to considerable trouble arranging for it."
"Sir, I feel that I would make you a lousy aide."
"You are now a Marine officer. When a Marine officer is told to do something, he is expected to reply 'Aye, aye, sir' and set about doing it to the best of his ability."
"I am aware of that, sir," Pick said. "But I didn't think it would ever be applied in a situation where the order was to pass canapes."
"You're telling me that you would prefer to be running around in the swamp at Camp LeJeune to being the aide of a general officer?"- General Mclnerney asked, on the edge of indignation.
"Yes, sir, that's exactly my position," Pickering said. "I respectfully request that I not be assigned as your aide."
"I am sorry to tell you, Lieutenant," General Mclnerney said, "that I have no intention of going back to Headquarters, USMC, and tell them that I have now changed my mind and don't want you as my aide after all. As I said, arranging for your assignment as my aide wasn't easy." He waited until that had a moment to sink in, and then went on: "So where would you say that leaves us, Lieutenant?"
"It would appear, sir," Pick said, "that until I am able to convince the general that he has made an error, the general will have a very reluctant aide-de-camp."
General Mclnerney snorted, and then he chuckled.
"Lieutenant, you are a brand-new officer. Could you take a little advice from one who has been around the Corps a long time?"
"Yes, sir."
"Don't jump until you know where you're jumping from, and where you're going to land," General Mclnerney said. "In other words, until you have all the intelligence you can get your hands on, and have time to evaluate it carefully."
"Yes, sir," Pick said, annoyed that he was getting a lecture on top of everything else.
"In this case, the facts as I presented them to you seem to have misled you."
"Sir?"
"Your dad is indeed concerned about you, and he did in fact call me and ask me to look after you. But what he was concerned about was the possibility that some chairwarmer would review your records, see what you did as a civilian, and assign you appropriately. He said he didn't want you to spend your hitch in the Corps as a mess officer. Or a housing officer. And when I checked, that's exactly what those sonsofbitches had in mind for you. If I had not gone over there, Lieutenant, and had you assigned to me, you would have reported for duty this morning to the officers' club at the Barracks."
Pick's eyes widened.
"So, because your Dad and I are old buddies-we were corporals together at Belleau Wood-I am protecting your ass. I think you would make a lousy aide, too. You will be my junior aide only until such time as I decide what else the Corps can do with you."
"I seem to have made an ass of myself, sir," Pickering said.
"We sort of expect that from second lieutenants," General Mclnerney said, reasonably. "The only thing you really did wrong was underestimate your father. Did you really think he would try to grease the ways for you?"
"My father is married to my mother, sir," Pickering said.
"I take your point," General Mclnerney said. "I have the privilege of your mother's acquaintance."
"May I ask a question, sir?"
"Sure."
"Was my moving into the hotel a real blunder?"
"Not so far as I'm concerned," General Mclnerney said. "I understand your situation." _
"I was thinking of… my best friend, I suppose is the best way to decribe him. I sort of pressured him to move in with me."
"I see," Mclnerney said. "Another hotelier? Classmate at school?"
"No, sir. He was a China Marine, a corporal, before we went through the platoon leader's course."
Mclnerney thought that over a moment before he replied.
"I think it might be a good idea if he moved into the BOQ," he said. "There would certainly be curiosity. It could even turn into an Intelligence matter. Where would a second lieutenant, an ex-China Marine enlisted man, get the money to take a room in the Lafayette? It could be explained, of course, but the last thing a second lieutenant needs is to have it getting around that Intelligence is asking questions about his personal life."