Alternate Gerrolds (9 page)

“All right, men,” he said. “Let’s talk about it.”

“Eh?” said Bogey, blandly. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Peck let out his breath in a sigh, glancing downward while he collected his thoughts. When he met our eyes again, his face was grim. “I wanted to have this talk with you before,” he said. “But I realized that there was no safe way to have this talk until we were safely in the air. From here on in, this
thing
is our responsibility. It’s up to us. We’ve been entrusted by our government with the single most important mission of the war. But I want you to think about something for a moment. There is a law that transcends the laws that mere men can make.”

I glanced to Bogey, then to Reagan. Bogey’s grim smile revealed nothing of what he was thinking. But everything Reagan was feeling was written on his face so clearly, he could have been a neon sign.

Peck saw it. He put his hand across the intervening space and laid it on Reagan’s shoulder. “Ronnie, I want you to think about the precedent we’re about to set. We’ll be validating that it’s all right to bomb civilians, to wipe out whole cities. This is the first atomic war. If we do this, it won’t be the last. Yes, I’ve been thinking; maybe the most courageous thing we can do today is
not
drop this bomb. Maybe we should jettison it into the ocean. It’ll be three months before the next one is ready. But we could take a stand today, that soldiers of the United States will not kill innocent civilians. And if we did that, our government leaders would have three months to change their minds about using the next one. Perhaps they’d think differently if we gave them a reason to reconsider—”

“And perhaps they’ll just put us in Leavenworth and throw away the key,” said Bogey. “Count me out. I’ve seen enough prisons, thank you.”

“You’re talking treason, sir,” said Reagan.

“Yes, in one sense, I guess I am. But is it treasonous to place one’s loyalty to God and all humanity above everything else? If our government is about to do something terribly terribly wrong, shouldn’t we oppose it—just like all those brave men and women who have been trying to
oppose the evils of the Third Reich for so many years? Do two wrongs make a right?”

“Ahh-h-h,” I stammered. They all looked at me. “I hear the sense of your words, Colonel, but this is the wrong time to have second thoughts. The time to bail out of this mission was before we took off.”

Peck looked to Bogey. He raised an eyebrow questioningly; what do you think?

Bogey chewed on the soggy end of his cigar for a moment before answering. “Colonel, you’re one of the most decent men in the world. Perhaps too decent. You’re certainly too decent for this job. And I wish I had your courage, because you’re speaking what a lot of us have been thinking. But ... I’m also a realist. And there comes a time when even decent men have to do indecent things. That’s the obscenity of war. Especially this one. Lives are cheap. We drop this thing, they’re going to get cheaper still. But if we don’t—well, I don’t see there’s much decency in the alternative.”

Colonel Peck nodded thoughtfully while he considered Bogey’s words. He nodded and kept nodding. I could see that he was thinking through the logic step by step. That was Colonel Peck. Careful.

But he never got the chance to finish his thinking. Colonel Reagan unbuttoned his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of orders. He unfolded them and handed them to Colonel Peck. “Colonel, you are hereby relieved of command of this mission. I’m sorry, Greg. I was given those orders last night by General Donleavy. If you showed any signs of not being able to carry out this mission, he told me to place you under arrest and take over.” And then he added, “I hope you won’t make this difficult. Sir.”

Colonel Peck read the orders without comment. “These appear to be in order,” he said. He passed them to Bogey, who glanced at them, and handed them to me. I pulled my logbook around and wrote in the change of command. My hand shook as I did so.

“Colonel Reagan, your orders appear to be valid. The mission is yours.” He folded his arms. “You’ve helped me make up my mind, and I thank you for that. The fact that General Donleavy felt that such an order might be necessary confirms the ugliness of this mission.” He glanced at his watch. “We still have two hours before we’re over Berlin. You might spend it thinking about what kind of a world we’ll be living in after you drop that bomb. You too, Bogey, Jimmy.” He looked to Reagan. “Do you want me to ride in the back?”

“If you promise not to interfere with the operation of this mission, I’d rather you stay up here, sir.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

Ronnie picked up his microphone then. “Attention, all hands. This is Colonel Reagan. Colonel Peck has been taken ill. I’m taking command. We will proceed with the mission as directed.” He put the microphone down.

Colonel Peck nodded. “Thank you, Colonel Reagan.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Colonel Peck.”

We flew in silence for a while. The plane droned across the bright green fields of France, heading toward the distant blue mountains and then the long run north toward Berlin.

“Colonel?” Lt. Laurel’s softly accented tenor came through our headphones.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Ollie and I would like to report that the device is armed.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Reagan glanced at his watch. “You’re ahead of schedule. Good job.”

Reagan looked around at me, at Bogey. “Either of you fellows having second thoughts?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Bogey held up his thumb.
The
thumb. The one he’d use to press the button. I glanced at my watch, then wrote the time in the log.
Device armed.
The words looked strange on the page.

I wondered what the people of Berlin were doing now? Were they going about their daily lives without concern, or were they studying the skies and worrying? Did the husbands go to work this morning? Were they busy at their offices? Were the children reciting lessons in their classrooms? Were the wives and housekeepers out shopping for sausage and cheese? Were the students sitting in cafes, sipping coffee and arguing philosophy? Did the orchestras still rehearse their concerts of Beethoven and Wagner? Or was the music cancelled for the duration?

We flew on in silence. The engines roared and vibrated. The big machine talked to itself in a thousand different noises. We had our own symphony, here in the sky.

Colonel Peck looked curiously relaxed, as if he were finally at peace with himself. The bomb might fall, but it would not be his doing. Reagan, on the other hand, could not have looked unhappier. He must have
felt betrayed by the colonel. Worse, he must now be feeling the same burden that Colonel Peck had been carrying around for the last few months.

Reagan exhaled, loudly. I could tell he was trying to figure it out. “I don’t get you, skipper. You’re one of the smartest guys I know. How can you betray your country like this?” He had an angry edge to his voice.

“I’m not betraying my country. I’m holding her true to her principles. We’re not killers.”

“The Germans started this war,” Reagan said. “The Nazis are an evil empire. This bomb will destroy them. We have to follow our orders.”

Colonel Peck nodded. “Ron, it’s an officer’s duty to refuse to obey any order that he knows is wrong. We’re about to drop the equivalent of fifteen kilotons of TNT on an unarmed civilian population. Do you think that’s correct?”

Reagan didn’t answer. Even from the back, I could see the expression on his face; he was so angry his hair was clenched.

“Maybe the whole idea of war has gone too far,” Peck said. “Maybe it’s time for someone to just say no.”

“That’s got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say,” Reagan replied, shaking his head. I could tell he wasn’t thinking straight anymore. I’d seen him get like this before. He’d get so angry that he’d refuse to listen to anyone, even when he knew they were right.

“Maybe. Maybe it is—and maybe someday, someone else will have an atomic bomb—maybe the Russians or the Chinese or even some crazy little Arab hothead—and maybe they’ll be thinking about dropping their bomb on an American city, maybe New York or Chicago or Los Angeles. I don’t know. But whoever it is, they’ll have the precedent of our actions today, Ron. They’ll know
exactly
what the horror will look like. The whole world is watching. If we turn back today, we’ll be saying that this bomb is too
terrible
for anyone to use.

“But—if we use it, then every nation will want to have one—will
need
to have one—if only to defend themselves against the United States, because we’ll have demonstrated ourselves as willing to inflict such horror on our enemies. Oh, if it were only the war, Ron, I’d drop the bomb. What’s the difference between a bellyload of little blockbusters or one big city-killer? Only the size of the boom. But it’s not just this war, Ron. It’s everything. It’s all the consequences. It’s tomorrow and tomorrow and all the tomorrows that come after.”

“We’ll be over Germany soon,” Reagan said to Bogey. He hadn’t heard a thing that Colonel Peck had said.

Bogey grunted a noncommittal response.

Reagan looked to Peck. “It’s time. Give him your keys.”

Peck nodded. He unclipped the keys from his belt and handed them to Bogey. Bogey clapped the colonel on the shoulder, a gesture of respect and affection, then ducked out of the cockpit.

We flew on. The engines droned and roared. I bent back to my table, my charts, my numbers, my logbook, my frustration. They were both right, each in their own way.

“How long to Berlin, Jimmy?”

“Uh, ah—ah-h, twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.” Reagan spoke into his mike. “Bombardier?”

Bogey’s voice came through the headphones. “I’ve got a problem—I’m coming back up.”

Reagan and Peck looked at each other in puzzlement. Peck glanced back to me. I shrugged.

Bogey pulled himself back into the cockpit, scratching the stubble on his chin. “I dunno how to tell you this, Colonel—” he said to Reagan. “—but I dropped the other set of keys. I can’t unlock the bomb.”

“Well, find ‘em, dammit!” Reagan was getting red in the face.

“Uh, that’ll be a little hard, Colonel. I dropped ‘em out the window.”

For a moment Reagan didn’t get it. Peck realized it first, and a big grin started spreading across his face.

Reagan started to unfasten his seat-harness. “All right, I’ll cut the damn chains if I have to—”

“That won’t work either, sir. Stan and Ollie are already disarming the bomb.” Bogey looked to Peck. “We’re going to have to turn back.”

“You’ll be court martialed for this! Both of you!” Reagan snapped.

“Oh, hell,” said Bogey. “Let ’em. If they want to put me in jail for standing for what’s right, then our country’s got a lot bigger problem than this little war. You and I, Colonel—our problems don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. But if I let you take this plane to Berlin, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life....”

Colonel Peck put his hands back on the controls of the aircraft. He looked over to Ron—

“Dammit! We have our orders—” Reagan protested.

“I know, Ron, I know.” Colonel Peck said softly, regretfully. He picked
up his microphone. “Lt. Hope. This is the Captain speaking. Break radio silence. Send the mission aborted signal. We’re coming home.” And then he began banking the plane around to the left.

Bogey took the cigar out of his mouth and grinned at me. “Hey, Jimmy, you got a light?”

THE RATTLE OF THE RED ROACH PHONE—a noise like an angry cicada—brought him to instant wakefulness. He rolled out of bed in a single movement, scooped up the handset and held it to his ear. He didn’t speak.

The familiar voice. The words crisp and mellifluous. “One-thirtythree. How soon can you leave?”

He bent to the nightstand and switched on the lamp with a loud click. He opened the World Atlas that lay directly under the glow to page 133. A map of Vienna. He glanced at the clock. The minute hand had long since fallen off, but he’d become fairly proficient at telling the time by the position of the hour hand alone. “I’ll be on the ten-thirty train.”

“Good,” said the voice. The line clicked and went silent.

He undid the laces tying up the throat of his nightshirt, letting the wide neck of the garment fall open and away. He began shrugging it down off his shoulders, pulling it down to his waist, shedding it like an insect pushing its way out of its cocoon, all the while darting his eyes about the room in quick, nervous little glances. It fell forgotten to the floor. He stepped out of it, pink, naked and alert. A whole new being. His eyes glistened with anticipation and excitement.