Part 59 (1/2)
”Yes, sir.”
”Have you got your pad?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Let's go over this together,” Captain Young said. ”What do we know, Commander Davis?”
”We know the major was shot down, sir.”
”Okay. Let's go with that. To get shot down, he had to go up, right?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Despite severe weather conditions that in other circ.u.mstances would not have permitted flight operations, Major . . . What's his name?”
”Pickering, sir, Major Malcolm S., USMCR,” Harrison furnished.
”Hereafter Pickering,” Captain Young went on, ”. . . 'took off from the USS Badoeng Strait Badoeng Strait to render air support'- make that 'desperately needed air support'-'to U.S. Marine forces then engaged in combat'-make that 'outnumbered U.S. Marine forces' and 'fierce combat' . . .” to render air support'- make that 'desperately needed air support'-'to U.S. Marine forces then engaged in combat'-make that 'outnumbered U.S. Marine forces' and 'fierce combat' . . .”
”Sir, I get the idea,” Chief Harrison said. ”Why don't you give me the basics and let me fill in the blanks?”
”Okay. He was shot down while doing this.”
”Wounded?”
”I don't think so, but he almost certainly suffered painful injuries making the crash landing. . . .”
”Because he crash-landed the airplane away from civilian houses?” Chief Harrison asked.
”Good thought, Harrison!” Captain Young agreed. ”And if he got shot down, the plane had to be on fire, right?”
”Got it,” Harrison said. ”Then what?”
”While he was supporting the troops on the ground, he encountered fierce antiaircraft fire. . . .”
”Which, at great risk, he ignored?”
”Right.”
”Then what?”
”He spent the next . . . what?”
”Find out when he was shot down and when he was rescued. That many days. 'Avoiding the determined efforts of the enemy to capture him,' et cetera. . . .”
”Got it, sir.”
”We need that now, Harrison.”
”Aye, aye, sir.”
”Length is a criterion here, too. Make sure that the citation fills a sheet of paper, and that the signature block goes on the next page,” Captain Young said.
”Signature blocks sometimes get lost, sir, right?”
”I guess they do,” Captain Young said.
”Take me thirty or forty minutes, sir.”
”Good man, Harrison!”
[THREE].
U.S. NAVAL HOSPITAL U.S. NAVY BASE, SASEBO SASEBO, j.a.pAN 2205 19 OCTOBER 1950.
Security for U.S. Naval Hospital, Sasebo-the guards at the gate and around the perimeter-was provided by a five-man detachment of U.S. Marines who set up and supervised the system, using sailors from the hospital staff-Corpsmen, others-a.s.signed to ”Sh.o.r.e Patrol” duty on a roster basis to man the various posts.
Sergeant Victor C. Wandowski, USMC, very rarely spent any time at all at Post Number One, which was the guard shack at the main gate, but tonight was an exception. He had been given a heads-up that a Marine major, named McCoy, was going to arrive at the hospital either sometime tonight or-probably-early tomorrow morning. The major was to be sent immediately to see the medical officer of the day, and the hospital commander, Captain Schermer himself, was to be notified of Major McCoy's arrival, no matter what the hour.
Under these circ.u.mstances, Sergeant Wandowski had decided, it behooved him to be at the main gate around 2200. He knew there was a courier flight arriving at the airfield around 2130, and it seemed likely this Major McCoy would be on it.
When he saw an Air Force jeep approaching just after 2200, Sergeant Wandowski congratulated himself on his foresight. If one of the swabbie p.e.c.k.e.r-checkers f.u.c.ked up meeting this major-which was very likely-it would have been his a.s.s in the crack, not theirs.
”I'll handle this one,” he said to the swabbie on duty, and stepped out of the guard shack, crisply raising his hand to stop the jeep.
An Air Force buck sergeant was driving the jeep. If his pa.s.senger was a Marine major, he G.o.dd.a.m.ned sure didn't look like it.
He was coverless, insignia-less, and wearing an Army field jacket.
Whatever it was, it did not rate a salute, and Sergeant Wandowski did not offer one.
”What can I do for you?” he demanded.
”You can tell me where I can find Brigadier General Pickering,” McCoy said.
”Never heard of him,” Sergeant Wandowski said, both truthfully and as sort of a challenge.
”Trust me, Sergeant,” McCoy said. ”He's somewhere around here. How about getting on the horn and calling the officer of the guard and asking?”
”I'm the officer of the guard,” Wandowski said.
”Then call the officer of the day,” McCoy said patiently.
”Can I ask who you are?”
”My name is McCoy,” McCoy said.
”You're Major Major McCoy?” McCoy?”
McCoy nodded.