They were making gestures with their hands. Donald was nodding his head.
“Those are helo pilots,” the captain said. “I asked them to give your pilot a quick course in carrier takeoff in a helicopter.”
“Sir, I am profoundly grateful,” McCoy said.
“Major, I would be pleased if you and Colonel Dunn and your pilot would take lunch with me in my cabin,” the captain said.
“That’s very kind, sir.”
Major McCoy suspected—correctly—that even the captain of a vessel like the USS Badoeng Strait did not routinely luncheon on what was served by a white-jacketed steward to the four of them in the captain’s cabin.
It began with cream of mushroom soup, went through roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, baked potatoes, and green beans, and ended with strawberry shortcake.
Over their coffee, the captain asked another question.
“If you’re uncomfortable answering this, McCoy, just don’t answer it. But do your agents get information for you? Anything you can tell me?”
McCoy hesitated, then said: “May I have your word that it will go no further than this cabin, sir?”
“You’ve got it.”
“In the last several days, we’ve been getting reports that elements of the Fourth Chinese Field Army—which has been at the Korean border since June—have begun to send at least elements of the 38th, 39th, 40th, and 42d armies across the border.”
“My God!” Dunn blurted.
“I suppose my ignorance is showing,” the captain said. “Fourth Field Army? What did you say, 38th, 39th, 40th, and 41st armies? Five armies?”
“Fortieth and 42d,” McCoy said. “The Chinese field army is something like one of ours. Like the Eighth Army. What we would call a ‘corps’ they call an ‘army.’ A field army is made up of two or more armies, like our armies usually have two or more corps. The last reliable word I had was that the strength of the Fourth Field Army was about six hundred thousand men.”
“My God, and you say they’re crossing the border, Ken?” Dunn asked.
“What I said, and why I don’t want any of this to go further than this cabin, is that I have been getting reports, which I so far can’t confirm, that elements of the Fourth Field Army—elements of those numbered armies—have begun to slip across the Yalu.”
“We’ve been flying—and so has the Air Force—reconnaissance missions all over that area,” the captain protested.
“Bill Dunston, the Korea station chief, saw the last intelligence from Supreme Headquarters, the stuff they furnished Eighth Army and X Corps. According to that, aerial reconnaissance—even the covert stuff, across the border— has not detected the Fourth Field Army as being there, and I know it’s there.”
“It’s the first I’ve heard of it,” the captain said, more than a little doubtfully. “How the hell can you hide—what did you say, six hundred thousand men?”
“In caves, in valleys, in buildings, you put them down by first light, and nobody moves, absolutely nobody moves, during daylight. They’ve had a lot of experience doing that,” McCoy said.
“I’m having trouble—no offense, McCoy—accepting this,” the captain said.
“None taken, sir.”
“You think the Chinese are going to come in, don’t you, Ken?” Dunn asked.
“I think it’s a strong possibility.”
“What—can I ask this?—do you do with your intelligence, these reports, who do you send them to?” the captain asked. “Can I presume they go through Supreme Headquarters?”
“I’m right on the line of what I can’t say, sir,” McCoy said. “We share some of our intelligence with Supreme Headquarters, General Willoughby. My boss, the Assistant Director of the CIA for Asia, gets my reports, and the decision as to what to do with them is his.”
“You share ‘some’ of your intelligence with Supreme Headquarters?” the captain asked. “Why not all of it?”
“That’s politics, sir,” McCoy said.
“What’s politics got to do with it?”
“If there is a difference of opinion, sir, about the reliability of some intel . . . What General Willoughby puts out, he puts out in the name of General MacArthur. If Willoughby says the moon is made of blue Roquefort cheese, that means MacArthur agrees. Once that announcement is made, we can’t say the moon is made of Gorgonzola, even if we are sure it is, because that would be telling General MacArthur that he’s wrong.” He paused. “I suspect I’m having diarrhea of the mouth, sir.”
“I don’t know about that, Major,” the captain said, “but frankly, it seems to me that, for a relatively junior officer, you seem to know a hell of a lot about how things work at the highest levels.”
“Sir,” Dunn said. “I have something to say that (a) will almost certainly annoy