FOLLOWING PERSONAL FROM SECNAV TO BRIG GEN PICKERING:
DEAR FLEMING:
THIRTY MINUTES AGO I HAD THE GREAT PERSONAL PLEASURE AND PRIVILEGE OF INVESTING FIRST LIEUTENANT MALCOLM S. PICKERING, USMCR, WITH THE DISTINGUISHED FLYING CROSS FOR HIS EXTRAORDINARY VALOR AND PROFESSIONAL SKILL AT GUADALCANAL. SENATOR FOWLER WAS PRESENT. YOUR SON IS A FINE YOUNG MAN, AND YOU CAN TAKE GREAT PRIDE IN HIM.
I HAVE BEEN INFORMED THAT FOLLOWING HIS PARTICIPATION IN THE WAR BOND TOUR HE IS TO BE ASSIGNED TO DUTIES INVOLVING THE DEVELOPMENT OF TACTICS FOR THE NEW CORSAIR FIGHTER. VIS A VIS THE WAR BOND TOUR, WHEN I ASKED, PRO FORMA, IF THERE WAS ANYTHING I COULD DO FOR HIM, HE INSTANTLY ASKED TO BE RELIEVED FROM WAR BOND TOUR DUTIES. I TOLD HIM IT WAS OUT OF MY REALM OF AUTHORITY. VIS A VIS THE CORSAIR ASSIGNMENT, I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT EITHER. THE DIRECTOR OF MARINE CORPS AVIATION TOLD ME THAT PILOTS LIKE YOUR BOY (AND LIKE THAT OF HIS GUADALCANAL COMRADE IN ARMS, LIEUTENANT WILLIAM DUNN, WHO WAS DECORATED TODAY WITH THE NAVY CROSS FOR HIS TEN VICTORIES AND WHO IS BEING SIMILARLY ASSIGNED) ARE WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD TO TRAIN OTHER PILOTS AND THAT THE MARINE CORPS HAS NO INTENTION OF SENDING THEM BACK INTO COMBAT UNTIL THEY HAVE TRAINED AN ADEQUATE SUPPLY OF NAVAL AVIATORS.
KEEP BUTTING YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE PALACE WALL FOR YOUR FRIEND DONOVAN'S FRIENDS. YOU CAN IMAGINE WHERE THAT ORDER CAME FROM, AS RECENTLY AS YESTERDAY.
GUERRILLAS IN PHILIPPINES HAVE ATTRACTED ATTENTION IN SAME QUARTERS. LEAHY QUOTE SUGGESTED UNQUOTE THAT RICKABEE'S PEOPLE ARE PROBABLY THE BEST TO GET TO BOTTOM OF QUESTION OF THEIR POTENTIAL EFFECTIVENESS, IF ANY. YOUR RECOMMENDATIONS, IF ANY, AND OPINION, IN PARTICULAR, OF MACARTHUR'S RELUCTANCE TO GET INVOLVED EARNESTLY SOLICITED.
BEST PERSONAL REGARDS, FRANK
END PERSONAL FROM SECNAV TO BRIGGEN PICKERING
BY DIRECTION:
DAVID HAUGHTON, CAPTAIN, USN
ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT TO THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
=TOP SECRET=
[SIX]
The Foster Lafayette Hotel
Washington, D.C.
2015 Hours 28 October 1942
"I'm a little disappointed with this thing," First Lieutenant Malcolm S. Pickering, USMCR, said. As he spoke, he removed the accompanying ribbon from the oblong blue box that contained his Distinguished Flying Cross and held it in his fingers.
"What do you mean, 'disappointed'?" First Lieutenant Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR, asked.
"The British do it right," Pick said. "Don't you watch English movies? When Tyrone Power gets the British DFC for sweeping the skies of the dirty Hun, you can see the sonofabitch for miles; it's striped; it looks like a 'Danger High Voltage' sign. This thing looks like something you get for not catching the clap for three consecutive months."
"Pick," Miss Ernestine Sage groaned, "you're disgusting!"
McCoy laughed. "He's a little drunk is all."
" 'A little drunk' is the understatement of the week," Ernie said.
"How are the girls going to know I'm a hero with this No Clap ribbon? How will I get laid?"
"Jesus, watch your mouth, Pick!" McCoy snapped.
"That's never been a problem with you before," Ernie said. "Why should it be now?"
He fastened his eyes on her. "You may have a point, Madam," he said solemnly. He turned his eyes to McCoy. "How come you didn't get a medal?"
"For what?"
"For paddling your little rubber boat ashore from the submarine. Now that took balls!"
"Shut up, Pick," McCoy snapped.
"What are you talking about, Pick?" Ernie said seriously. "And you shut up, Ken!"
"That's classified, damn it!" McCoy said.
"Why is it classified? It's history. And, anyway, Ernie doesn't look very Japanese to me."
"What little rubber boat, Pick?" Ernie demanded.
"I'll never forget it. There he was on a sunny South Pacific beach, surrounded by cannibals. He'd paddled there in his little rubber boat from a submarine."
"Oh, damn it!" McCoy said, and walked across the room to the bar, passing en route Lieutenants Dunn and Easterbrook, who were sitting side by side on a couch, sound asleep.
"If he wasn't so mad," Ernie said, "I'd think you were trying to be funny."
"As God is my witness, there he was, teaching the cannibals close-order drill."
"What were you doing there, Pick?" Ernie asked suspiciously.
"He was the copilot of the plane that picked us up," McCoy said from the bar. "Now can we change the subject?"
"Why didn't you get a medal?" Ernie asked McCoy. "And why did I have to hear this from him?"
"You don't get medals for doing what you're supposed to do, all right?" McCoy said. "And everything he told you is supposed to be classified."
"That's what I thought when they gave me this thing," Pick said. "I didn't do a goddamn thing a lot of other people didn't also do, and they didn't get medals. Dick Stecker, for example."
"Stecker will probably get one," McCoy said. "He's an ace too, isn't he?"
"A mummy ace," Pick said.
McCoy glared at him.
"Don't give me the evil eye, Mister McCoy. You saw him. Wrapped up like Tutankhamen."
There was a knock at the door. It was one of the assistant managers.
"I thought you would like to see this, Mr. Pickering," he said, and handed him a thin stack of newspapers. "There's several copies."
"Thank you," Pick said.
He accepted the stack of newspapers and handed one to McCoy and Ernie. It was The Washington Star, and there was a four-column picture of Bill Dunn as Secretary Knox was pinning his Navy Cross on him. A headline accompanied the picture: "GUADALCANAL DOUBLE ACE AWARDED NAVY CROSS."
Pick took his copy and walked to the couch and draped it over Lieutenant Dunn's head. By the time he reached the bar, Dunn was in the process of sweeping the newspaper away. Once he finished that, he rose to his feet wide awake and started toward Pickering.
"I have a great idea!" he said.
"Look what woke up! Read the newspaper."
"You come home with me," Dunn said.