thing to do. Huff will arrange whatever is necessary.”
“Thank you.”
“Willoughby has been bringing me up to speed on what’s happening. Would you like to listen, or are you anxious to leave for Sasebo?”
“I’d prefer to hear General Willoughby’s briefing, sir, if I may.”
“Start from the beginning, Willoughby,” MacArthur ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Willoughby said. “On the west coast,” he began, using his swagger stick as a pointer, “I Corps is poised to take Pyongyang. . . .”
The briefing took only ten minutes. It was upbeat and confident. The implication was that the Korea Peace Action was just about over.
MacArthur had asked only two questions of Willoughby.
“And the Wonsan mines, Willoughby?”
“Admiral Struble’s Joint Task Force Seven, as of this morning, sir, has nineteen minesweeping vessels working on the problem.”
“And?”
"X Corps will sail today from Inchon, General,” Willoughby said. “I have every confidence that by the time the invasion fleet arrives off Wonsan, the mines will no longer pose any problem at all.”
“And the Chinese?”
“There has been no reliable intelligence of any movement of Chinese troops toward the border, sir,” Willoughby said. “I’ve personally taken a look at a good deal of the Air Force photography. There’s simply nothing there.”
Pickering had another unkind thought about Major General Charles Willoughby:
He obviously believes what he’s saying, but that is not the same thing as saying that what he believes is true.
What I should do, I suppose, is stand up and say, “General, please remember that Willoughby is the guy who told you guerrilla operations in the Philippines were absolutely impossible, and that there was no indication of hostile intentions on the part of North Korea, and his confident statements about no mines and no Chinese should be judged accordingly.”
Why don’t I? Because I don’t know if the mines are gone from the approaches to Wonsan or not, and I don’t know if the Chinese are going to come in the war, and absent proof of either, MacArthur’s going to go with Willoughby.
And, furthermore, Bedell Smith made the point that the intelligence-gathering function of the CIA ends with passing it on to those charged with making decisions. Making decisions is not our responsibility.
MacArthur interrupted his thoughts. “Have you any questions for Willoughby, Fleming?”
“No, sir.”
“In that case, Willoughby, would you give General Pickering and me a moment?”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
Willoughby went through the door into Huff’s office.
“Willoughby tells me that you have sent the CIA Tokyo station chief home,” MacArthur said, making it a question.
I can answer that tactfully, which means lie, and say Bedell Smith ordered it.
Or I can tell the blunt truth, and probably antagonize him.
It’s probably time for the blunt truth.
“In my judgment, General, he needed to be replaced. For one thing, he failed to gain intelligence of North Korea’s intentions when this war started, and for another—and no disrespect is intended—he was entirely too close to members of your staff, especially General Willoughby.”
MacArthur considered that a full fifteen seconds.
“Have you decided on a replacement?”
“Colonel Ed Banning, sir. Do you remember him?”
“Of course. He was your deputy in the Second War.”
“Yes, sir, he was.”
“It’s always nice, Fleming, to have old comrades-in-arms in one’s inner command circle. You know they can be trusted,” MacArthur said, then smiled. “Well, I suppose you’re anxious to head for Sasebo, aren’t you?”
He meant Willoughby in that philosophical observation, not Ed Banning.
Is he asking me to understand his relationship with Willoughby?
“Yes, sir, I am.”
Pickering saluted again, then walked out of MacArthur’s office into Huff’s office, where Captain Hart and Master Sergeant Keller were waiting for him. Willoughby nodded at Pickering, then went back into MacArthur’s office.
“This is the most interesting one, General,” Keller said, handing him a sheet of paper. “And it was delivered by a Jap on a bicycle.”
FROM TRANSGLOBAL HONOLULU
TO TRANSGLOBAL TOKYO
PLEASE PASS TO GENERAL PICKERING THAT COLONEL EDWARD BANNING, USMC, IS ABOARD TGF 1022 DUE TO ARRIVE IN TOKYO 1230 TOKYO TIME OCTOBER 16.
WILLIAMSON TG HONOLULU
“Well, I guess we’d better be at Haneda to meet him, hadn’t we, Paul?” Pickering said.
XII
[ONE]
THE IMPERIAL HOTEL TOKYO, JAPAN 1115 16 OCTOBER 1950
Captain George Hart knocked lightly on the door to Brigadier General Pickering’s bedroom, and then, as was his custom, without waiting for a reply, opened the door wide enough to look inside.
Pickering’s bedroom was actually a suite within a suite. There was a bedroom, a private bath, and a small room holding a desk and chair and a leather-upholstered chair with a footstool.
Pickering was sitting in the chair, holding a cup of coffee. He was not on the telephone, which