Part 23 (1/2)

Smith grunted.

”In terrain like that of northeast Korea, General,” Smith said, ”cohesion of your forces is critical. You can't string them out, and, worse, you can't outrun your logistics.”

”I know. I had a division in Italy. It's hard to get ammunition-not to mention hot rations-up the side of a mountain in a snowstorm.”

”So, I understand General Almond had a division in Italy,” Smith said. ”And in the presumption that General Almond learned what you did there, and will not issue orders requiring me to separate elements of the division, or order me to move so far or so fast that my ration and ammo trains will be strained, I have no objection to the Marines going ash.o.r.e at Wonsan. Or anywhere else they think we can do the job.”

”Thank you,” Howe said. ”That will not go further than Pickering and the President.”

”G.o.d, I hate canned peaches,” Smith said, holding a peach half aloft on his fork.

”I hate to admit this, but I'm getting to like the Salisbury steak,” Howe said.

”You've been here too long, General,” Smith said, chuckling.

”You ever see McCoy?” Smith asked.

”Frequently.”

”When you see him, ask him, please-tell him I told you to ask-what, if anything, I can do to help him.”

”I will, of course, but he will say, 'Thank you, sir, I have everything I need.' ”

Smith looked at him for a moment. ”Why do I think something went unsaid, General?” he asked.

”General, does Baker Company, 5th Marines, ring a bell?” Howe asked.

”Yes. They're the people who were the reserve for the clandestine operation on the Flying Fish Channel Islands.”

”They're now at K-14, guarding a couple of secret Army helicopters.”

”Secret Army helicopters?” Smith parroted incredulously. ”Almond asked me if he could have them for a couple of days. I said, 'Yes, sir.' I didn't know what they would be doing.”

”McCoy doesn't have enough people,” Howe said.

”Is that what he's doing now, guarding secret Army helicopters?”

”I meant for his intelligence activities, and looking for Major Pickering.”

”He tell you that?”

”That's my opinion.”

”And he asked for these people?”

”No.”

Smith grunted, then raised his voice. ”Gunny!”

Master Gunnery Sergeant Macey came through the canvas flap.

”Sir?”

”Baker Company, 5th Marines,” Smith said.

”They're in Division Special Reserve, sir. They're the people who were detached when we left the Perimeter-”

”I know,” Smith cut him off. ”Tell the G-3 they are to remain in Special Reserve until released by me, personally.”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

”And send a messenger to the company commander . . . Where did you say they were, General Howe?”

”In a hangar across from base operations at K-14,” Howe furnished.

”. . . that, until further orders from me to the contrary, he will take his orders from Major McCoy. He knows who he is.”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

[FIVE].

THE HOUSE SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 1625 30 SEPTEMBER 1950.

Major Alex Donald, who was in the act of extending his hand to take a crystal whiskey gla.s.s full of beer from a tray extended to him by a middle-aged Korean woman, was surprised when Majors McCoy and Dunston, Master Gunner Zimmerman, and Technical Sergeant Jennings suddenly rose to their feet and stood to attention as military men do when a senior officer suddenly appears.

This-”mansion” was the only word that fit-did not seem to be a bastion of the fine points of military courtesy and the customs of the service. And neither did its inhabitants. Technical sergeants do not normally sit around drinking with officers.

He took the gla.s.s of beer, then glanced at the door. A graying master sergeant in fatigues was coming through it. Then another man in fatigues came through, and there were two silver stars on each of his collar points.

Donald popped somewhat awkwardly to attention, the gla.s.s of beer in his hand.

”Stand at ease, gentlemen,” General Ralph Howe said. He smiled and added: ”We'd hoped to arrive at the c.o.c.ktail hour.”

”Or at least before you drank everything,” Master Sergeant Charley Rogers said.

He smiled at the Korean woman and held up two fingers. She bowed and left the room.

Howe looked curiously at Major Donald.

”General, this is Major Donald,” McCoy said.

”I think we've met, haven't we, Major?” Howe asked.

”Yes, sir,” Donald said. ”Yesterday, at Kimpo.”

”Right,” Howe said, as if remembering. ”You're the man with the new helicopters.”

”Yes, sir.”

Howe looked at McCoy for an explanation.