The Captains (29 page)

The interior of the M3 didn't stink as bad as he thought it would. There was evidence of animal life, squirrels probably; he didn't think there would be rats.

He squeezed himself into where the driver's seat had been. That 3.5 rocket had blown a neat hole right through the hull. If this had been an operational tank, it would be a dead tank now.

He heaved upward, and with effort got the driver's hatch to open on its rusty hinges. He saw a jeep coming hell bent for election across the field. He ducked back into the hull. Let them think it was MacMillan, alone. Let Mac get rid of them, and they could fly home, and he could consider the ramifications of rocket-armed choppers.

MacMillan certainly was not the first one to think of arming choppers, he thought. But, under that goddamned Key West Agreement of 1948, the army was forbidden armed aircraft. In 1948, when the Defense Department had been formed, and the Air Corps, previously a part of the army, had become a separate service, they'd held a meeting at Key West and defined the roles of the army, the navy (which included the Marine Corps), and the new air force. The air force, logically enough, had been given responsibility for things that flew. They had promised to support the army with air power as needed. It was, on the surface, a logical arrangement, except that it was the air force that decided what the army needed in aerial support, not the army. And the air force was far more interested in spending its budget on intercontinental bombers and rockets than on supporting the dogfaced soldier. Arming aircraft was the air force's—and only the air force's—privilege. The air force was not about to waste money developing armed helicopters when they had the capability of atomizing the enemy. It was General Black's solemn opinion that the Key West Agreement was goddamned stupid.

He thought that it was likely that MacMillan was the first one to actually try rockets and machine guns on choppers. The other people who had thought about it were also smart enough to know about the Key West Agreement and afraid to violate it.

There was the sound of angry voices outside. What the hell was that all about?

General Black stuck his head out of the commander's hatch. A tall, thin light bird, whose name he could not recall, but whom he remembered was the range officer, was giving MacMillan hell. Unauthorized use of the ranges, firing on a range that wasn't supposed to be fired on at all, was absolutely, unquestionably, against regulations.

“Colonel,” General Black called out. The skinny light bird, his face still contorted with rage, snapped his head in the direction of the general's voice. For a moment, until he recognized the general (who had left his fatigue cap in the H23/CE), he glowered at the partner in crime of the idiot who had befouled his range.

Then he saluted, literally struck dumb. The last person in the world he expected to see crawling out of a derelict M3 was the post commander.

“I thought you might be interested to see what Captain MacMillan's rocket did to the interior of this,” General Black said, conversationally. He hoisted himself out of the hatch, and made room for the skinny light bird to climb in. Then he jumped to the ground.

“I've seen enough, Mac,” he said. “Let's go home.”

(Three)
Fort Polk, Louisiana
1 May 1951

HQ DEPT OF THE ARMY WASH DC

CG FT POLK LA (ATTN: MAJ GEN E.Z. BLACK)

 

INFO: CG USARMYFOUR FT SAM HOUSTON TEX
CCG USARMYEIGHT KOREA

 

1. TELECON BETWEEN VICE CHIEF OF STAFF, USA: DC/S-PERSONNEL HQ DEPT OF THE ARMY AND MAJ GEN E. Z. BLACK, CG US ARMY REPLACEMENT TRAINING CENTER AND FORT POLK LA 2030
HOURS WASH TIME 30 APR 1951 CONFIRMED AND MADE A MATTER OF RECORD
.

2. MAJ GEN E. Z. BLACK (LT GEN DESIGNATE) IS RELIEVED OF COMMAND US ARMY REPLACEMENT TRAINING CENTER AND FT POLK LA EFFECTIVE 0001 HOURS 2 MAY 1951, AND WILL PROCEED BY FIRST AVAILABLE AIR TRANSPORTATION TO HQ FAR EAST COMMAND TOKYO JAPAN FOR FURTHER ASSIGNMENT WITH USARMYEIGHT AS COMMANDING GENERAL XIX US CORPS (GROUP). GEN BLACK IS AUTH A PERSONAL STAFF OF FOUR
.

FOR THE CHIEF OF STAFF
RALPH G. LEMES
BRIG GEN, USA
DEPUTY THE ADJ GEN

(Four)
Kwandae-Ri, North Korea
8 May 1951

Master Sergeant Tourtillott, a heavyset man in his forties, with a full head of curly silver hair, a Thompson submachine gun resting against his hip, and presenting a picture of a doglike devotion to General Black's protection that he didn't intend (although his devotion to General Black was in fact, doglike; he had been with him since Africa), stood by the rear door of the XIX Corps Conference Room and waited for the general to appear.

He did. He wore fatigues, tanker's boots, and a .45 automatic in a shoulder holster.

“Gentlemen,” Master Sergeant Tourtillott called out, “the Commanding General. Atten-hut!”

Fifty officers rose to their feet.

General Black, wearing three stars on each of his collar points, walked into the room, trailed by Technical Sergeant Carmine Scott, his clerk.

“Be at ease, gentlemen,” he said.

There were three armchairs in the center of the front row of chairs. One was occupied by the deputy corps commander, a major general, and the other by the corps artillery officer, a brigadier general. The center chair was obviously intended for General Black. Black walked to the chair, and smiled at Sergeant Scott.

“General,” he said to the brigadier general, “would you mind giving Scotty your chair? He takes notes for me, and he has to be next to me.”

“Somebody get the sergeant a chair,” the corps artillery officer called out, moving his own chair to make room.

“General, you're going to have to listen carefully to what I say,” General Black said. “I didn't say, ‘Get Sergeant Scott a chair.' I asked you to give him yours.”

Flushing with mingled anger and humiliation, the corps artillery officer signaled for a colonel to give up his chair. Sergeant Scott sat down next to the general and took out a stenographer's notebook and three pencils. He held the two spares in the same hand as the notebook, and poised the third over a blank page.

“Get on with it,” General Black said.

The deputy corps commander went to the stagelike platform.

“On behalf of the officers and men of XIX Corps, General, welcome.”

“Thank you,” Black said.

The briefing, designed to inform the new corps commander of every possible fact concerning his new command, went on for an hour and a half.

General Black leaned his head toward Sergeant Scott every few moments and spoke softly to him. Sergeant Scott, his head moving almost constantly to signal his understanding of what was being said, scribbled steadily in his stenographer's notebook.

Presentations were made by the General Staff, G-1 (Personnel), G-2 (Intelligence), G-3 (Operations), and G-4 (Supply). They were followed by the Special Staff (the medical officer; the provost marshal; the ordnance officer; the signal officer; the transportation officer; the aviation officer; the civil affairs and military government officer; the finance officer; the chemical officer; and the special services officer).

When it was all over, General Black got to his feet and turned and faced the roomful of officers.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I am a simple soldier. When I was a cadet at Norwich, I was told, and I believed, and my subsequent career has proven true, that the essence of command is to make sure the troops have confidence in what they are doing. Troops must have faith in their officers Officers build and maintain that faith in a very simple manner: They never lie to their troops; they never ask them to do something they cannot do themselves, or are unwilling to do themselves; and they never partake of creature comforts until the last private in the rear rank has that creature comfort. If you'll keep that in mind, I'm sure that we'll get along.”

And then he walked out of the room, with Master Sergeant Tourtillott and Technical Sergeant Scott trailing along after him.

One by one, the General Staff officers presented themselves in his office. Prompted by Technical Sergeant Scott, working from his notes, General Black asked each of them specific questions and issued specific orders. He asked each of them if they had questions. None of them did, until he got to the adjutant general.

“We seem to have a problem, sir, with Captain MacMillan,” the adjutant general said.

“Already? For Christ's sake, he hasn't been here seventy-two hours.”

The adjutant general handed General Black a TWX.

HQ DEPT OF THE ARMY

CG XIX US CORPS KOREA

REF: PARAGRAPH 6, SPECIAL ORDER 87, HQ USA REPL TNG CNTR
&
FT POLK LA DTD 1 MAY 51
.

(1) CAPT RUDOLPH G. MACMILLAN, 0-367734, INF, HAVING BEEN RETURNED TO THE ZI AFTER COMBAT SERVICE IN THE KOREAN CONFLICT, IS NOT ELIGIBLE FOR FURTHER SERVICE WITHIN EUSAK UP OF POLICY LETTER 285–50, OFFICE OF THE ASSISTANT CHIEF OF STAFF, PERSONNEL
.

(2) IN VIEW OF CAPT MACMILLAN'S PREVIOUS DISTINGUISHED RECORD, AND THE UNDESIRABILITY TO EXPOSE HIM TO THE HAZ
ARDS OF COMBAT AGAIN, NO REQUEST FOR WAIVER IS DESIRED
.

(3) THIS MSG WILL SERVE AS AUTHORITY TO ISSUE ORDERS REASSIGNING CAPT MACMILLAN TO HQ MIL DISTRICT OF WASHINGTON FOR DY WITH PRESIDENTIAL FLIGHT DETACHMENT
.

FOR THE ASSISTANT CHIEF OF STAFF, PERSONNEL
RICHMOND HULL
LIEUT COL AGC
ASSISTANT ADJUTANT GENERAL

“Tourtillott,” General Black called out, “get MacMillan in here.”

“He's down at the airstrip, General,” M/Sgt. Tourtillott replied.

“Get in a jeep and go get him,” Black ordered.

When he handed MacMillan the TWX, and took a look at his face, General Black's carefully rehearsed speech vanished from his mind.

“Tourtillott, get back in your jeep and go get the aviation officer,” General Black said.

“You're not going to pay any attention to this thing, are you, General?” MacMillan asked.

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mac, for once,” General Black said.

The aviation officer, a full colonel, appeared ten minutes later in a crisp fatigue uniform.

“What took you so long, Colonel?” Black asked.

“Sir, I was in a really rotten flight suit,” the aviation officer said.

“Try to remember for the future, Colonel,” Black said, “that when I send for you, it's very likely that I have something on my mind more important than the cleanliness of your uniform.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know Captain MacMillan?” Black asked.

“Yes, sir. I just met him. He was explaining the general's rotary-wing requirements, sir.”

“Colonel, have you got any flying missions that don't get any closer than, say, five miles to the MLR?” General Black asked.

“I don't think I quite understand the question, sir.”

“Think about it,” General Black said, nastily.

“Yes, sir,” the aviation officer said; and then, having thought about it, said, “Yes, sir,” again. “We operate TWA, sir. Teeny-Weenie Airlines. We supply radio relay stations, and weather stations, and an outfit on the East Coast at Socho-Ri that supports a South Korean intelligence outfit.”

“The aircraft involved do not get closer to the line than five miles. Is that a correct statement?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me about the outfit supporting the South Korean intelligence outfit,” General Black said. “How far are they from the line?”

“About ten miles south of it, sir.”

“And is there any reason MacMillan couldn't stay with them?”

“No, sir. They're right in with a radio relay station. One of ours, I mean.”

“OK, Mac,” General Black said. “Here it is. You quarter yourself with the Americans over on the coast. You occupy your time flying back and forth between here and there, never getting any closer to the line than five miles, thereby freeing one of the colonel's pilots and permitting me to assure those who are worried about your health that you are in no danger whatever.”

“General, what about my aerial cavalry?” MacMillan protested.

“Take it or leave it, Mac,” General Black said. “You either fly these supply missions for the colonel here, or you pass out hors d'oeuvres in the White House.”

“I'll stay here, sir,” MacMillan said.

“I'll have your ass if I find you've flown anything, anywhere, that the colonel hasn't told you to fly, and I'll have the colonel's ass if you do and he doesn't tell me. Have I made myself quite clear, gentlemen?”

“Yes, sir,” MacMillan and the aviation officer said in unison.