"Los Presentos from El General," he announced to McCoy, Lewis, Macklin, and Zimmerman. He pronounced "General" in the Spanish manner, "Hen-eral."
"Is that supposed to be Spanish, Everly?" Lieutenant Lewis asked, chuck-ling.
"Yes, Sir," Everly said. "Doesn't it sound like Spanish? And special pre-sentos for you, mi capitain, and you, mi gunny," he went on, reaching into his shirt pocket and handing small silver objects to McCoy and Zimmerman.
"I ain't no officer," Zimmerman said, examining the handmade lieuten-ant's bar in his hand.
"You are here," Everly argued. "El Hen-eral says so. It's not so bad, Ernie. You get used to it."
"I'll be damned," McCoy said, almost to himself, examining the captain's bars in his hand. Word of his promotion had been radioed from Australia, but until now, he hadn't thought much about it. The insignia somehow seemed to make it more official than the radio message had.
And then McCoy looked at Everly. "What's with the khakis? Where'd they come from?"
"Money talks," Everly said. "Bullshit walks."
"Meaning what?"
"Just before Sharp-Mindanao Force-surrendered, they opened the Quartermaster warehouses to the Filipinos," Everly explained. "I guess Sharp figured it was better to give the stuff to the Filipinos than to burn it to keep the Japs from getting it. Or maybe he didn't have time to burn it; they had all sorts of supplies here. Anyway, the Filipinos took this stuff and hid it. They didn't seem to remember where until our guys started passing out twenty-dollar gold coins. We're getting offers of all sorts of stuff now."
"As the man says, Captain McCoy," Lieutenant Lewis said. "Money talks, bullshit walks. Phrased somewhat more eloquently, cash equals credibil-ity."
"These is Army uniforms," Zimmerman said, in either disgust or disap-pointment.
"Put it on, and put the bar on it," McCoy ordered. "General Fertig wants Americans to look like officers, and he's right."
"That's not all that's coming out of the bushes," Everly said. "Half an hour ago, a half-dozen civilians, including two female ones, showed up here."
"What's that?" Lewis asked, surprised.
"Americans," Everly explained. "When the Japs started rounding up the civilians, these took off. Now they're coming in."
"What kind of civilians?"
"The ones we have here is ordinary civilians, you know, they worked here for Dole, or Shell Oil. But we got word by runner that some other ones, mis-sionaries, will be here in the next day or two."
"What's Fertig going to do with them?" Lewis asked.
"Send them out with you when the Sunfish returns. Captain Buchanan wanted to send them back where they came from, but the General said no."
"How are we going to get a bunch of civilians-" McCoy began, and interrupted himself. "What shape are they in, Everly?"
"Skinny, weak, but they can walk."
"How are we going to get a half-dozen civilians from here to the beach?" McCoy asked.
No one replied.
"The General told Captain Buchanan to spread the word that we can't handle any more civilians right now-not to bring any more here, in other words-but said we have to keep the ones we have for-what was that word, Mr. Lewis?-reasons of credibility."
"Yeah," Lewis said.
McCoy looked at him for amplification.
"American citizens are entitled to the protection of their government," Lewis explained. "Right now, USFIP is the U.S. Government. Fertig can't turn these people away. If he did, the word would quickly spread among other Americans, and thus quickly throughout the island, that USFIP can't help peo-ple. No help, no credibility."
"But he did order his USFIP people not to bring any more civilians here, right?" McCoy asked.
Lewis nodded.
"I wonder how many there are," McCoy said.
"Couple of hundred, Mr. McCoy, is what I hear," Everly said.
"My God, if several hundred civilians show up here, not only will it make it difficult, possibly impossible, to conduct our evacuation, but it can't help but attract the attention of the Japanese," Macklin said.
"You was in China," Zimmerman said. "You should know that's what Marines do, protect American civilians."
Captain Macklin visibly did not like being spoken to in such a manner by an enlisted man. But he said nothing.
"Macklin, why don't you go have a look at these civilians?" McCoy or-dered. "Take Everly with you. Don't tell them any more than you have to, but tell them how hard-and dangerous-it's going to be to get them from here onto a submarine. Maybe some of them will have second thoughts. And go back where they came from."
"It's worth a shot," Everly said. "But don't get your hopes up, Mr. McCoy."
"In any event, get their names and next of kin in the States," McCoy said. "You know what we need. Koffler can radio it. People in the States are proba-bly worried about these people."
"Aye, aye, Sir," Everly said.
"And speaking of the devil, the communications genius of Operation Windmill," Lewis said, as Staff Sergeant Koffler walked into the single room of the building from the porch.
"You hear about the civilians?" Koffler asked. "Just now."
"Where'd the khakis come from?" Koffler asked. "Courtesy of the U.S. Army," McCoy said. "Everly, have you got a bar for Koffler, too?"
"Yeah," Everly said, and reached into his pocket and came out with an-other silver lieutenant's bar. He tossed it to Koffler.
"Don't get too attached to that, Steve," McCoy said. "It comes off when we get out of here."
"It'll still look good on my Officer Candidate School application," Kof-fler said, unabashed. "Highest Rank Attained: First Lieutenant, U.S. Forces in the Philippines.' "
McCoy laughed.
"The only reason you're a first lieutenant, very temporary, is that General Fertig decided he had better things to do with gold than make second lieuten-ant's bars out of it."
"It'll still look good on my application," Koffler said, and then handed McCoy a decrypted message. "I thought you would want this right away."
FROM KPS TO MXX FOR CAPT MCCOY
PART ONE
A - ADVANCE DATE GROCERY STORE PHASE ONE BY FIVE REPEAT FIVE DAYS
B - CONFIRM TIME AND COORDINATES WHEN DETERMINED
PART TWO
A - PREPARE TO RECEIVE THREE REPEAT THREE OSS OFFICERS WHO WILL AUGMENT REPEAT AUGMENT
PRESENT OSS STAFF
PICKERING BRIG GEN
McCoy read it and then handed it to Lewis.
"What's the delay?" Koffler asked. "They didn't say."
"I guess they didn't want us to know, otherwise they would have told us," McCoy replied. "What's the problem, Steve? You get to wear your first John's bar for another five days."
"The problem is that we can't use Site Charley," Lewis said. "There will be Japs all over that area then."
"So where do we go?" McCoy asked.
Lewis took his chart from its oilskin pouch, unfolded it, spread it on the floor, and then knelt beside it. It was a full minute before he replied to McCoy:
"Site George, or Site Mike or... Site Sugar," he said. "And the closest of those three is twenty miles further from here than Site Charley."