up in the oversized Sumo Wrestler’s Special Bed sharing Stars and Stripes with his wife—inquired.
“Captain, the ugly one, with the inhospitable attitude,” Hart said, “is Major McCoy. The good-looking one is Mrs. McCoy.”
“Good morning,” the captain said.
“What the hell is going on, George?” McCoy asked.
“You are about to be decorated with the Purple Heart medal by El Supremo himself,” Hart said.
“Oh, bullshit!” McCoy said.
“And the Silver Star,” the captain said.
“But not in that bed,” Hart said. “When Colonel Huff heard about the two of you cozily together in the wrestler’s bed, he made the point that it lacks the proper military flavor for this momentous occasion.”
"Screw him!”
“Ken!” Mrs. McCoy said.
“And General Pickering agreed with him. You will get your Purple Heart in a wheelchair, as Mrs. McCoy, in her wheelchair, looks adoringly on.”
“And the Silver Star,” the captain repeated. “The Purple Heart and the Silver Star.”
“What the hell is he talking about, Silver Star?” McCoy asked.
“Sir, you are about to be awarded the Silver Star and the Purple Heart,” the captain said.
“We don’t have much time,” Lieutenant (j.g.) Hills said, and rolled a wheelchair up to Ernie’s side of the bed. “Can you make it all right, Mrs. McCoy?”
“I’ll be all right. But would you hand me my cosmetics kit and the hand mirror from the bathroom?”
“Just as soon as we get you into the chair,” Nurse Hills said.
“You need some help, Ken?” Hart asked.
“What I want to know is, what the hell he’s talking about,” McCoy said. “What about the Silver Star?”
“Sir, you are about to receive, third award, the Silver Star medal,” the captain said.
“For what?” McCoy asked, genuinely confused.
The captain reached into his tunic pocket and came out with a thin stack of folded paper. He searched through it, peeled one sheet away from the others, and started to hand it to McCoy.
“Here’s the citation, sir,” he said.
“Wait until he’s in the wheelchair,” Hart said. “El Supremo and entourage are hot on our heels. You can read it after you’re decorated.”
Hart rolled a second wheelchair to the bed. McCoy, wincing, threw the light hospital blanket and sheet off his legs, swung them out of bed, and gingerly lowered himself first to the floor and then into the wheelchair.
Hart snatched the blanket from the bed and began to arrange it around his legs.
“Jesus Christ, George!” McCoy said.
“Why don’t we put the chairs against the window?” the captain said. “If we close the drapes, we have our background. ”
“Let me see that citation, Captain,” McCoy ordered as Hart rolled him toward the window.
The captain handed it to him, and McCoy started to read it.
“This is absolute bullshit!” McCoy announced angrily.
“Ken!” Ernie cautioned again.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on here,” McCoy said. “But I’m not going to have a goddamn thing to do with it. This is pure, unadulterated bullshit!”
The door was swung open by Captain F. Howard Schermer, MC, USN, who commanded, “Attention on deck!”
General of the Army Douglas MacArthur marched into the room, trailed by Mrs. Jean MacArthur; Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR; Colonel Sidney L. Huff; two other aides-de-camp, a major and a captain; one Army photographer—the master sergeant who was usually at MacArthur’s side; one Navy photographer; and half a dozen members of the medical staff of the U.S. Naval Hospital, Sasebo, including Commander J. V. Stenten, NC, USN, who was in Navy blues, and wearing all of her medals—not the ribbon representations thereof—and which occupied a substantial portion of the left side of her tunic.
“As you were,” the Supreme Commander ordered as he followed Mrs. MacArthur to Mrs. McCoy in her wheelchair.
“I’m glad to see you looking so well, my dear,” Jean MacArthur said, and leaned over and kissed her. Then she handed her a box of Whitman chocolates.
“Thank you,” Ernie said softly.
"Good to see you again, Major McCoy,” MacArthur said. “How’s the leg?”
“Getting better, sir,” McCoy said.
"Good,” MacArthur said. “Unfortunately, we are really pressed for time. Get on with it, Sid.”
“Attention to orders,” Colonel Huff barked. “Supreme Headquarters, United Nations Command, Tokyo, 21 October 1950. Subject: Award of the Silver Star Medal. By direction of the President, the Silver Star Medal, Third Award, is presented to Major Kenneth R. McCoy—”
“Excuse me, sir,” Major McCoy said.
Huff looked at McCoy, frowned, and went on: “—United States Marine Corps Reserve—”
“Excuse me, sir,” Major McCoy said, louder.
“Yes, what is it, Major?” Colonel Huff asked icily.
“With all possible respect, sir, I have read that citation, and it’s . . . it’s not true, sir.”
“—for conspicuous gallantry