The dozen officers at the table, all general or flag officers, rose to their feet as MacArthur walked to the door that led to his office and passed through it.
General Almond pushed the map back into its storage space.
The other senior officers began to stuff the documents they had brought to the briefing back into their briefcases.
Almond sensed Pickering’s eyes on him and walked to him.
“You look as if you have something on your mind, General, ” he said.
Pickering met Almond’s eyes.
“I didn’t think the briefing was the place to bring this up . . .”
“But?” Almond asked.
“I had people on the wharf in Pusan yesterday when the 29th Infantry debarked from Okinawa,” Pickering said. “They told me the regiment has only two battalions . . .”
“Peacetime TO and E,” Almond said. “You told me the 1st Marine Division’s regiments were similarly understrength. ”
“Yes, sir,” Pickering said. “General, my people . . .”
“You’re speaking of . . . your aide-de-camp?” Almond asked, a slight smile on his face.
Pickering nodded. “Yes, I am.”
Almond had been present at a luncheon meeting when MacArthur had announced that Pickering was going to have to do something about an aide-de-camp.
“I have one, sir,” Pickering said. “Captain McCoy.” That had not been the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Pickering did not have an aide-de-camp. He didn’t think he needed one. But he knew MacArthur well enough to know that if MacArthur thought he needed an aide-de-camp, and there was no suitable young Marine officer available, he would give him a suitable young Army officer “for the present.”
There were a number of things wrong with that, starting with the fact that any bright young officer assigned to SCAP would naturally feel his loyalties lay with SCAP—either the SCAP, MacArthur, or SCAP generally, which would include Almond, the SCAP chief of staff, and Willoughby, the SCAP G-2, rather than solely to Brigadier General Fleming Pickering.
That was understandable. The Supreme Commander was the Supreme Commander. Supreme Commanders were in command of everything, especially including all one-star generals.
And MacArthur and Willoughby—and possibly Almond, although Pickering wasn’t sure about Almond—had done a number of things, possibly simply courtesy, to make Pickering seem like, feel like, a member of the SCAP staff.
He had been given an Army staff car (a Buick, normally reserved for major generals or better, rather than a Ford or Chevrolet) and a driver, for one thing. He had been given an office, staffed by a master sergeant and two other enlisted men, in the Dai Ichi Building, “on the SCAP’s floor.”
A seat had been reserved for him at the daily briefings/staff conference. He had been offered quarters, in sort of a compound set aside for senior officers, and two orderlies to staff it.
This would have been very nice if Pickering had been assigned to the SCAP staff, but that wasn’t the case. Officially, he was the Assistant Director of the Central Intelligence Agency for Asia. The CIA was not under MacArthur’s command, although the CIA station chief in Tokyo was under mandate to “coordinate with SCAP.”
More than that, Pickering was under orders from the President of the United States to report directly to him his assessment of all things in the Far East, including General of the Army Douglas MacArthur.
Pickering had quickly learned that the CIA Tokyo station chief (whose cover was senior economic advisor to SCAP) had quarters in the VIP compound, a staff car, and considered himself a member of the SCAP staff.
If he could have, Pickering would have relieved the station chief on the spot for permitting himself to be sucked into the MacArthur magnetic field. The CIA was not supposed to be subordinate to the local military commander or his staff. But he realized that would have been counterproductive. For one thing, it would have waved a red flag in MacArthur’s face. For another, he didn’t know who he could get to replace him.
Pickering had declined the VIP quarters, saying that he was more comfortable in the Imperial Hotel. When Willoughby heard about that, he replaced the driver of Pickering’s staff car with an agent of the Counterintelligence Corps wearing a sergeant’s uniform, and assigned other CIC agents, in civilian clothing, to provide around-the -clock security for Pickering in the Imperial Hotel.
Willoughby’s rationale for that was that the Assistant Director of the CIA for Asia obviously needed to be protected. That was possibly true, but it also meant that CIC agents, who reported to Willoughby,