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for you and me to do is try to get some sleep. There s nothing else that can be done
about Goettge and his people tonight.
Yes, Sir, Pickering said. Sir, is our communications in to Pearl Harbor?
As far as I know.
I have a message to send, Pickering said. I have authority, Sir&
I know all about your authority, Pickering: You don t have to ask my permission
to radio the Secretary of the Navy, and I don t have the authority to ask what you re
saying to him.
He thinks, Pickering thought, that I am going to radio Washington that Cory may have
been captured by the Japanese. I hadn t even thought about that. But I ll do that, too.
With your permission, Sir? Pickering said.
Vandergrift smiled, nodded, and waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal.
For what it s worth, I share Colonel Hunt s sentiments about you, Pickering,
Vandergrift said.
(Two)
The duty officer in the communications section of Headquarters 1st Marine Division
Battleground / 251
was a second lieutenant. He was dozing, but woke up when Pickering entered the
small, sandbag walled room.
May I help you, Colonel? he asked, getting to his feet.
I m Captain Pickering. I need to send a radio, classified TOP SECRET. Are you a
crypto officer?
Yes, Sir, I am, but& Captain, what s your authority?
Pickering took his orders, wrapped in waterproof paper, from his pocket and
showed them to the young officer.
If that won t do it for you, Lieutenant, call General Vandergrift.
This will do, Sir. Where s the message?
I haven t written it yet, Pickering said. Sergeant, you want to get up and let
me at that typewriter?
The sergeant, who had been monitoring his radio, waiting for traffic, looked at
the lieutenant for guidance. The lieutenant nodded. The sergeant got up, and
Pickering sat down at the typewriter. There was a blank sheet of paper in it.
Pickering looked at the lieutenant.
The priority immediately below Operational Immediate is Urgent, right?
Yes, Sir.
Pickering tapped the balls of his fingers together impatiently as he mentally
composed the message, and then he began to type. He typed with skill. He had
taken up typing to pass time as a junior officer at sea. It wasn t too much later than
that when he learned that doing the typing himself was much faster than dictating
to a secretary.
URGENT
FROM: HQ FIRST MARINE DIVISION
TO: CINCPAC
0045 13AUG42
FOLLOWING CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET FROM CAPTAIN FLEMING PICKERING
USNR FOR EYES ONLY SECNAVY WASHINGTON DC
1. LOSS IN COMBAT OF COLONEL FRANK GOETTGE 1ST MARDIV G2, CAPTAIN
WILLIAM RINGER 5TH MARINES S2 AND 1STLT RALPH CORY 5TH MARINES
LANGUAGE OFFICER REQUIRES IMMEDIATE ACTION TO AIRSHIP QUALIFIED
REPLACEMENT PERSONNEL.
2. DESPITE URGENT NECESSITY TO FURNISH 1ST MARDIV WITH QUALIFIED
PERSONNEL I URGE IN STRONGEST POSSIBLE TERMS THAT EXISTING POLICIES
PROHIBITING ASSIGNMENT OF PERSONNEL WHO HAVE HAD ACCESS TO
HIGHLY CLASSIFIED INFORMATION TO DUTIES WHERE THEY MAY FALL INTO
ENEMY HANDS BE STRICTLY OBSERVED.
3. PENDING ARRIVAL OF QUALIFIED REPLACEMENT, THE UNDERSIGNED HAS
TEMPORARILY ASSUMED DUTIES OF 1ST MARDIV G2.
SIGNED FLEMING PICKERING CAPTAIN USNR
END TOP SECRET EYES ONLY SECNAV FROM PICKERING
CAPT USN G2 1ST MARDIV
He tore the paper from the typewriter and read it.
If that second paragraph doesn t tell Haughton that some damned fool assigned Cory,
252 / W. E. B. Griffin
who almost certainly knew about MAGIC, to an infantry battalion, he s not as smart as I
think he is.
He handed the sheet of paper to the lieutenant.
Encrypt it and get it out as soon as you can, he said.
Yes, Sir, the lieutenant said. He read the message.
My God, they re all dead? What the hell happened?
It s a long, sad story, Lieutenant, Pickering said and walked out of the commo
bunker.
(Three)
SUPREME HEADQUARTERS SOUTHWEST PACIFIC
AREA
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
13 AUGUST 1942
On the plane from Pearl Harbor, Lieutenant Colonel George F. Dailey, USMC, ser-
iously considered doing something about the pristine newness of his silver oak
leaves. The problem was that he didn t know what would do the job& He didn t
think that rubbing them on a carpet, say would effectively dim their gloss. And
working on them with, say, a nail file, would probably produce a silver lieutenant
colonel s leaf that looked like somebody had worked it over with a nail file.
Before he fell asleep, he thought that when he got to his new billet in Australia,
before he actually reported in, he would find some sand and rub it into his insignia
with his Blitz cloth. The idea was amusing. After eight years in the Corps, he d
worn out probably twenty Blitz cloths in practically daily use putting a high shine
on his insignia. He would now use one to dull it.
Lieutenant Colonel Dailey s concern was based less on personal vanity than on
his belief that he could function better in new duties if it was not immediately ap-
parent that he had been promoted so recently. After all, he reasoned, he had been
a lieutenant colonel only thirteen days. And he wanted to do well in his new billet.
When he actually reached Brisbane, so many things happened so quickly that
he forgot about taking the shine off his new silver oak leaves.
For one thing, there was a general s aide-de-camp, a lieutenant, waiting for him
at the airport, with a 1940 Packard Clipper staff car, a driver, and an orderly.
Colonel, the lieutenant said, on behalf of Supreme Headquarters, SWPA, and
General Willoughby specifically, welcome to Australia. The General asked me to
express his regret that he couldn t meet you here himself, but he s tied up with the
Supreme Commander at the moment.
The Supreme Commander, of course, was General Douglas MacArthur. General
MacArthur was a full, four-star general. Dailey had never seen a four-star general.
There were no four-star generals in the Marine Corps. The Commandant of the
Corps was only a three-star lieutenant general. And until recently, his title had
been Major General Commandant, and he had had but two stars.
It s very good of you to meet me, Dailey said.
I ll have the sergeant get your luggage, Sir, the aide said, and then we ll try
to get you settled. General Willoughby hopes we can do that by sixteen hundred,
so there will be a chance for him to have a quick word with you before you see the
Supreme Commander he ll take you to see him which we have penciled in for
sixteen forty-five.
My God, I m going to meet MacArthur!
Battleground / 253
If I m to see the General, Dailey said, either general, I really am going to have
to have a uniform pressed.
No problem, Sir, the aide said. There s a valet service in Lennon s. I ll have a
word with the manager and explain the situation.
Lennon s?
Lennon s Hotel, Sir. Sometimes irreverently known as The Lemon. It s the
senior staff officer s quarters, Sir.
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