engine and drove down the wharf toward where Captain Moran was impatiently waiting for the truck with MacNamara still on the running board.
MacNamara dropped nimbly off the truck as it passed Kennedy.
“Sorry, sir. That man was asleep,” MacNamara said, as if he considered that a personal insult.
“You were saying something, Captain, about moving the heavy vehicles overland?” Kennedy asked.
“Yes, sir. Colonel, I’ve got a map in my jeep. Can I show you what I think?”
“Why not?” Kennedy said.
[FIVE]
OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STAFF HEADQUARTERS X U.S. CORPS SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 1720 11 OCTOBER 1950
“Kennedy,” the chief of staff said, “this was not what I expected to hear from you when I told you to report on your progress.”
“I know,” Colonel Kennedy said. “I wish it were otherwise. ”
“Well, what do you want to do about it?”
“If we could get an LST . . .”
“Fine. See the Port Captain, and tell him I want these heavy vehicles available as soon as possible at Wonsan.”
“Sir, I did that. He says there is no space on the available LSTs. They can’t carry all the tanks we want to move as it is.”
“Jesus Christ! Kennedy, we’ve got to do something!”
“Captain MacNamara has an off-the-wall idea—”
“Who’s he?”
“He commands the vehicle exchange unit.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“He suggests moving the wreckers and the tank retrieval vehicles by road.”
Kennedy was surprised when the chief of staff did not frown, snort derisively, or say “Jesus Christ!” disgustedly, as he was wont to do when presented with a wild and/or stupid idea. In fact, the chief of staff was apparently giving the idea some thought.
The chief of staff snorted, but thoughtfully, not derisively.
“Think of it as a chess game, Kennedy,” he said. “As we move pieces around the board—in this case the landing beaches at Wonsan.”
“Okay,” Kennedy said agreeably.
“First the landing craft go in.”
“Right.”
“And right on the heels of the landing craft—sometimes right with them—come the LSTs.”
“Right.”
“And what happens to the LSTs after they land the tanks? They get out of the way, right?”
“That’s true.”
“They wait for the freighters to come in close and drop anchor, right, and then take on supplies and ferry them to the beach, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
The chief of staff raised his voice: “Sergeant Miller! Bring me a map of the east coast.”
“Coming up, sir!” Sergeant Miller replied, and a moment later entered the chief of staff’s office, removing a map from its tube as he walked. He laid it on the chief of staff’s desk, anchoring its corners with two cans of Planters peanuts, a coffee cup, and a large stapler.
The chief of staff stood up and leaned over the map. Colonel Kennedy walked around the desk and stood beside him.
“We own Suwon,” the chief of staff said, pointing. “And we own Wonju and Kangnung. And Highway Four runs all the way from Suwon to Kangnung. And we’re only talking about”—he made a compass with his fingers—“about 120, maybe 140 miles, tops. All of it on a paved highway.”
“That’s about right,” Colonel Kennedy agreed.
The chief of staff used his fingers as a compass again.
“And about that far, 120 miles or so, from Kangnung to Wonsan.”
“Uh-huh, that’s about right.”
“The last I heard, the Capital ROK Division has moved at least this far”—he pointed—“close to Kansong, which is only seventy-five miles, give or take, from Wonsan, and on another paved highway.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Colonel Kennedy said, “According to the map, the highway ends fifteen miles north of Kansong.”
Now Colonel Kennedy received one of the chief of staff’s derisive snorts.
“The highway does, Howard. But there are villages all along the coast here”—he pointed—“from Kuum-ni to Tokchong. I’ll bet there are roads of some sort to all of them.”
“There probably are,” Colonel Kennedy agreed.
“Tokchong is only thirty-five miles south of Wonsan,” the chief of staff said. “I think there is a good chance that by the time the invasion fleet arrives off Wonsan, we’ll own that real estate.”
“That would seem a reasonable assumption,” Kennedy agreed.
“Worst case,” the chief of staff said, “for some reason, the vehicles cannot make it over the highway to Kangnung. That seems unlikely.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Presuming they can make it to Kangnung, they can’t make it much farther north along Highway Five. That also seems unlikely, but let’s take that for the purpose of argument. The LSTs dump their tanks at Wonsan and immediately head for Kangnung. They make about fifteen miles an hour, which would get them there in eight hours. An hour there to load the trucks and another eight hours back to Wonsan, where—since the vehicles would