The Secretary desires that Sergeant Zimmerman's travel to Brisbane be by the most expeditious means, and that he be advised by Special Channel Communication of Sergeant Zimmerman's estimated time of arrival in Brisbane. The Secretary further desires that the Commanding Officer, USMC Special Detachment 16, be similarly advised, also by Special Channel Communication.
(3) The Commandant desires that Maj Gen Forrest personally accomplish the foregoing as a matter of the highest priority.
"What I would like to do at any time within the next fifteen minutes, Dawk," General Mclnerney said, "is send a message to General Forrest, tell-ing him that Gunny Zimmerman is on his way to Brisbane."
Dawkins looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"Sir, he's not here."
"Where is he?"
"I think he's on Guadalcanal."
"You think he's on Guadalcanal?"
"Sir, he didn't leave the 'Canal when the ground personnel got on the ship."
"Why not?"
"I think Captain Galloway is carrying him as being on temporary duty with the 2nd Raider Battalion."
"You don't know?"
"Big Steve had him-Zimmerman's a Browning expert-transferred from the Raiders to VMF-229 when they were having weapons trouble. When the Squadron was relieved, Zimmerman went back to the Raiders."
"Without orders?"
"I believe it was on Galloway's verbal orders, Sir, with official orders to follow when that became possible."
"Where did you say Galloway is?"
"At Muku-Muku, Sir."
"Where's that?" General Mclnerney asked, and then, before Dawkins could reply, went on. "You know where to find it?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Get in the car, Colonel," General Mclnerney ordered. "Curiosity over-whelms me."
A silver-haired, elderly, dignified black man in a crisp white steward's coat walked out onto the flagstone patio of the sprawling mansion on the coast. Five hundred yards down the steep, lush slope, large waves crashed onto a wide white sand beach.
Three people were on the patio, stretched comfortably out on upholstered rattan chaise lounges under a green awning. One was a statuesque, Slavic-appearing blond woman in her forties. Makeup-less, pale-skinned, she had her blond hair piled upward on her head. She was wearing a loose-fitting, gaudily flowered dress, called a "muumuu." Her feet were in woven leather sandals.
One of the men, a good-looking, slim, deeply tanned and brown-haired young man of twenty-six, was wearing swimming trunks and a loose-fitting shirt quite as loud as the lady's muumuu. The other, a large, nearly bald, barrel-chested man in his forties, was wearing stiffly starched Marine khakis, the col-lar unbuttoned. The collar points held the gold and brown bar of a master gunner, and there were gold Naval Aviator's wings on his chest.
"Captain Galloway," the steward said. "Colonel Dawkins is here to see you. With another gentleman, a general."
"Denny," Charley Galloway said, "I've had a bad week. Do not pull my leg."
The steward raised his right hand, palm outward, to shoulder height as if swearing that he was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
"God, Denny, let them in!" Galloway said, rising to his feet. "It wouldn't hurt to bow or something."
Smiling, the steward bowed with great dignity.
"Not to me, not to me, at the General!"
"Your wish is my command," Denny said.
"My God," the woman said anguished. "Look at me!"
Twenty seconds later, Brigadier General D. G. Mclnerney and Lieutenant Colonel Clyde W. Dawkins walked onto the patio. The master gunner came to a position very much like attention.
"Good afternoon, Sir," Galloway said.
"Ah, Captain Galloway," Mclnerney said. "And Mr. Oblensky!"
"Good afternoon, Sir," Oblensky said formally.
"Marine Corps legends in their own time!" Mclnerney went on. "Why am I not surprised to find you two in such an environment of primitive squalor?"
"General, I don't believe you know Mrs. Oblensky?" Galloway said.
"No, but I am genuinely honored to meet you, Commander," General Mclnerney said, then walked to her and shook her hand.
When she was not playing the role of Mrs. Master Gunner Oblensky, USMC, she was Commander Florence Kocharski, Chief Surgical Nurse, U.S. Navy Hospital, Pearl Harbor. She had been awarded the Silver Star for her valor-"with absolute disregard for her own life"-going aboard a sinking battleship to treat the wounded on December 7, 1941.
"Commander, how's the Stecker boy doing?" Mclnerney asked.
"He's a long way from well, Sir," she said. "But, considering the shape he was in when we got him, he's doing fine."
"I saw the crash," Mclnerney said. "It wasn't pleasant."
"Steve told me," she said.
"That's another item on my agenda," Mclnerney said. "When can I see him?"
She smiled.
"They generally waive visiting hours for general officers, General."
"I meant, when would it be convenient for you and your people?"
"Anytime would be fine, Sir."
"His father and I are old friends," Mclnerney said. "We were in France together in the last war. And so, incidentally, was our host."
"May I offer the General something to drink?" Galloway asked.
"Hawaiian hospitality, right?" Mclnerney said. "Goes with the rope of flowers around your neck? Second time today I've had that offer. Colonel Dawkins offered me something to drink, pineapple juice and gin. I was about to accept, and then the Colonel told me you'd put Gunnery Sergeant Zimmer-man on TDY to the 2nd Raider Battalion, and I thought I'd hold off until I heard all about that."
"I'm surprised you heard about that, Sir," Galloway said.
"Not as surprised as the Secretary of the Navy is going to be," Mclnerney said, and handed Galloway the telephone memorandum he had shown Dawkins at Ewa.
Galloway read it and handed it to Oblensky, who read it and winced. "Permission to speak, Sir?"
"Certainly, Mr. Oblensky," Mclnerney said.
"The Captain really didn't know much about this," Oblensky said. "I was mostly responsible for this, Sir."
"I'm so carried away with auld lang syne, I may cry," Mclnerney said.
"Zimmerman was a Raider before we got him, Sir," Galloway said. "He came to me when we were relieved on the 'Canal and said he wanted to go back to the Raiders. I told him to go ahead, I'd fix the paperwork later."
"And why didn't you?" Mclnerney said.
"I tried, Sir," Galloway said. "I ran into a couple of problems."
"Be specific, Charley. I'm fascinated."
"Sir, the Personnel Officer at Marine Barracks, Pearl Harbor, told me the only way to get Zimmerman into the Raiders was for Zimmerman to apply for them. I couldn't apply for him. They have to be volunteers."
"Did you tell him Zimmerman was already running around behind the Jap lines on Guadalcanal with the Raiders?"
"I didn't think that would be a wise course of action under the circum-stances, Sir."
Mclnerney chuckled.
"So you just decided to sit tight and see what happened?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Something was bound to happen, right?"