Part 14 (1/2)

”He thinks he missed him yesterday by no more than a couple of hours,” Howe said.

”That's a really awkward situation, isn't it? Is there anything I can do to help?”

”I asked McCoy. He says he has everything he needs.”

Almond grunted.

”Where are we going?” Howe asked. ”May I ask?”

”As I understand it, General, you can ask anyone anything you want to,” Almond said, chuckling. ”We're going to look at something my Army Aviation officer enthusiastically a.s.sures me will 'usher in a new era of battlefield mobility.' ”

”The secret helicopters?” Howe asked.

”You do hear things, don't you, General?” Almond said. ”Yeah, the secret helicopters.”

”And are they going to 'usher in a new era of battlefield mobility'?” Howe asked.

”Not today or tomorrow, I don't think,” Almond said. ”Eventually, possibly, maybe even probably. Between us?”

”That puts me on a spot, General. I'm supposed to report everything I think will interest my boss.”

”So you are. Well, what the h.e.l.l, you've been around, you'll see this for yourself. What this is, is a dog and pony show, intended to inspire the Supreme Commander to lean on the Joint Chiefs to come up with the necessary funding to buy lots of these machines. Apparently, the Joint Chiefs are first not very impressed with these machines, and even if they do everything the Army Aviation people say, the Joint Chiefs will believe that if it flies, it should belong to the Air Force.”

”So they're staging a dog and pony show for you? And you're supposed to work on General MacArthur?”

”No. They're working on the Supreme Commander directly, ” Almond said. ”He gets the show. When I got his revised ETA, I was also informed that the Bataan Bataan will taxi here after it lands to afford General MacArthur the opportunity to see these vehicles, and to have his picture taken with them.” will taxi here after it lands to afford General MacArthur the opportunity to see these vehicles, and to have his picture taken with them.”

Howe shook his head in amazement.

”Yeah,” General Almond said. ”Following which General MacArthur will turn over the liberated city of Seoul to President Syngman Rhee.”

”I spent last night with Colonel Chesty Puller's Marine regiment,” Howe said. It was a question.

”Seoul is liberated enough, enough, General,” Almond responded, ”to the point where I feel the ceremony can be conducted with little or no risk to the Supreme Commander or President Rhee. I would have called this off if I didn't think so.” General,” Almond responded, ”to the point where I feel the ceremony can be conducted with little or no risk to the Supreme Commander or President Rhee. I would have called this off if I didn't think so.”

”I understand,” Howe said.

”With a little luck, the artillery will fall silent long enough so that we can all hear General MacArthur's remarks on this momentous occasion,” Almond said evenly.

Howe smiled at him.

”Well, here we are,” Almond said as the Chevrolet stopped before the bullet-riddled hangar.

Major Alex Donald, the X Corps' a.s.sistant Army Aviation officer, walked briskly up to it, opened the door, and saluted.

General Howe got out first, his presence clearly confusing Major Donald. Then General Almond slid across the seat and got out.

”Good morning, sir,” Major Donald said. ”Everything is laid on, sir.”

”Good,” Almond said. ”General Howe, this is Major Donald.”

They shook hands.

Howe spotted Captain Howard C. Dunwood, USMCR, standing close to the closed hangar doors with eight other Marines.

”Good morning, Captain,” Howe said.

”Good morning, sir.”

”Baker Company, 5th Marines, right?” Howe asked.

”Yes, sir.”

Both Captain Dunwood and General Almond were visibly surprised that General Howe was possessed of that information. Almond admitted as much.

”How did you know that?” he asked.

Howe winked at him.

”Well, Donald, let's have a look at these machines before the Supreme Commander gets here,” Almond said.

[THREE].

As the staff car carrying Generals Almond and Howe started down the road beside the runway, McCoy paused long enough to wonder where they were going, then turned and motioned to Jeanette Priestly to get out of the Russian jeep.

He had given a lot of thought to Jeanette and to her relations.h.i.+p with Pickering.

Pick Pickering-a really legendary swordsman, of whom it was more or less honestly said he had two girls and often more in every port-had taken one look at Jeanette Priestly just over two months before and fallen in love with her.

And vice versa. The second time Jeanette-known as the ”Ice Princess” among her peers in the press corps because no one, and many had tried, had ever been in her bed or pants-had seen him she had taken him to bed.

Everyone knew that ”Love at First Sight” was bulls.h.i.+t, pure and simple, that what it really meant was ”l.u.s.t at First Sight” and had everything to do with f.u.c.king and absolutely nothing to do with love.

Everybody knew that but Major Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR. He knew there was such a thing as love at first sight because it had happened to him.

The first time he had seen Ernestine Sage he had known he would love her forever even though the chances of having her in his bed, without or with the sanction of holy matrimony, had ranged from zero to zilch, and he d.a.m.ned well knew it.

Ernie was from Pick's world. Her mother and Pick's mother had been roommates at college. Her father was chairman of the board of-and majority stockholder in- American Personal Pharmaceuticals. Everyone thought that Pick and Ernie would marry.

There was no room in Ernestine Sage's life for a poor Scots-Irish kid from Norristown who had enlisted in the Marine Corps at seventeen, been a corporal with the 4th Marines in Shanghai, and was now a second lieutenant primarily because he had learned how to read and write two kinds of Chinese, j.a.panese, and even some Russian and the Marine Corps was short of people like that, and thus willing to commission them, temporarily, temporarily, for wartime service. for wartime service.

A week after Ernie Sage had seen Second Lieutenant McCoy sitting on the penthouse railing of her parents' Fifth Avenue apartment overlooking Central Park, his feet dangling over the side, she had told her mother that she had met the man whose babies she wanted to bear and intended to marry him just as soon as she could get him to the altar, or some judge's chambers, whichever came first.

Pick, and Pick's father, thought that was a splendid idea. Everybody else, including Lieutenant McCoy, had thought it was insanity, that their marriage just wouldn't-couldn't-work.

But Ernie had known it was love, and could not be dissuaded, even though Ken had firmly declined the offer of her hand in wedded bliss. She had followed him around, proudly calling herself a camp follower, whenever and wherever he was in the United States during World War II.

She had written him every day, and when, toward the end of the war, he'd come home from a clandestine operation in the Gobi Desert a major on Presidential orders to attend the Army's Command and General Staff college, he was denied his final argument against their marriage-the very good chance that he either would not come home at all, or come home in a basket-she'd finally got him to the altar.

With conditions. He was a Marine, and wanted to stay a Marine. He would not take an entry-level executive training position with American Personal Pharmaceuticals-or with the Pacific & Far East s.h.i.+pping Corporation-and she would not press him to do so. And they would live on his Marine pay, period.