And MacNamara believed that it was unlikely the Army was going to allow itself to be caught again with its pants down, logistically speaking. From what he’d seen and heard, there had been almost nothing in the depots in Japan when the war started, and that had hurt bad.
It seemed very likely to MacNamara that what would happen, once the war was over in a couple of weeks, was that the Army would restock the depots in Japan with the vehicles that had come from the States. There would be ordnance depots in Japan like the Anniston Depot in Alabama, with stocks of rebuilt-to-specification vehicles ready for immediate issue.
And there was certainly a role to play in that for units like the Eighty-Twenty-Three generally, and, if he played his cards right, for Captain Francis P. MacNamara specifically.
He didn’t want to get too enthusiastic about it, only to be later kicked in the balls, but it seemed possible, even likely, that he could stay on active duty long enough to get his promotion to major. He was eligible.
If that happened, that meant he would be retired as a major when he had his twenty years in, even if he got RIF’d again back to master sergeant.
But it was also possible, if less likely, that he could stay on active duty, particularly if he was right about the Army setting up an Anniston-type depot in Japan when the war was over, and go all the way to twenty years and retirement as a major.
Hell, maybe even make lieutenant colonel before he retired.
All it would take for this to happen would be for the brass to notice that he had done a hell of a good job with the Eighty-Twenty-Three and was just the man they needed for what was going to happen after the war.
Colonel Kennedy arrived fifteen minutes into Captain MacNamara’s second tour of the depot.
MacNamara saw him arrive—in a three-jeep convoy— but pretended not to see him until the “visiting party” had parked their jeeps and walked down to him between two rows of Ready for Exchange vehicles.
Then he hurriedly walked to them, saluted, and announced, “Good morning, sir. Captain MacNamara, Francis P., commanding.”
Colonel Kennedy returned the salute.
“Quite an operation you have here, Captain,” he said. “Very impressive.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Can you give me some quick stats? What’s ready for issue?”
“Everything you see, sir, except for those beyond-my-capacity -to-repair vehicles”—he pointed—“over there. There are seven in that category, sir. There are five hundred seventy-nine wheeled vehicles of all types ready for issue, sir.”
“Five hundred seventy-nine, eh?”
“Yes, sir. Would the colonel like a specific breakdown?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Colonel Kennedy said. “I didn’t really realize there were that many.”
“Yes, sir. And all ready for immediate exchange.”
“I understand there was some difficulty in getting them off-loaded at Inchon when you came.”
“The heavier stuff—the tank transporters, some of the larger wreckers—gave us a little trouble, sir. But we managed to get everything off-loaded without trouble.”
“And the tides, too, I’m sure, posed a problem?”
“Yes, sir. We really had to push when the ship was at the dock to get as much off before the ship had to go back down the channel again.”
“Somebody said, you know, that Inchon was the worst possible place, because of those tides, to stage a landing.”
“Well, we did it, sir.”
“And you think you learned from the experience?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure we did.”
“Well, perhaps that will make things a little easier for you now,” Colonel Kennedy said.
“Sir?”
“As soon as you can, Captain, start moving your vehicles back to Inchon. Check with the port captain, and see where he wants you to operate for the on-loading.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it. I’m a little surprised that we’re going back to Japan so soon.”
“I didn’t say anything about Japan, Captain,” Colonel Kennedy said. "X Corps has been ordered to reembark to make another landing elsewhere.”
“Yes, sir. Where would that be?”
“You’ll be informed in good time,” Colonel Kennedy said. He put out his hand. “You’ve done a good job here, Captain. Keep it up.”
“Yes, sir,” MacNamara said.
IX
[ONE]
BLAIR HOUSE PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, NW WASHINGTON, D.C. 1005 11 OCTOBER 1950
There was a knock at the closed door of Harry S Truman’s study, but the President, who was reading what he thought of as one more windy damned report, didn’t pay much attention to it.
There were knocks at his study door all day and all night, followed a moment later by whoever was there—his secretary, usually—opening it and standing there waiting until she