turn slowly and a moment later, in a cloud of blue smoke, the engine caught.
My God, he’s going to fly that thing!
A moment after that, with Pickering’s Corsair leading, both aircraft taxied toward the runway.
The Navy photographers trotted toward the runway so they would be in position to photograph the takeoff. Commander Porter and the pilot who was now without an airplane walked toward the officers’ mess.
Jeanette could quite clearly see the takeoff of the two aircraft—including the pilot of the first aircraft, who had earphones cocked jauntily on his head, and was without any possibility of mistake whatever, Captain Pick Pickering of Trans-Global Airways.
Commander Porter and the pilot came into the dining room.
“What you have just seen, Jeanette,” Commander Porter announced somewhat dramatically, “what you will within thirty minutes have the first, and exclusive, photos of, was the takeoff of the first Marine aviation combat sortie to Korea. ”
“Who was flying . . . who was the pilot who took his airplane? ” Jeanette demanded.
“Major Malcolm S. Pickering, ma’am,” the pilot said.
“The other pilot was Lieutenant Colonel William C. Dunn,” Commander Porter said.
“Why did you give him your airplane?”
“Pick’s the skipper, ma’am,” the pilot said. “Of VMF- 243. He didn’t ask me. Skipper’s order, ma’am, they don’t ask.”
“What happened, Jeanette,” Commander Porter said, “was that Major Pickering came to the Far East before his squadron. And flew orientation missions to Korea . . .”
“In MacArthur’s Navion?” she asked, incredulously.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And then Colonel Dunn and . . . excuse me, Jeanette, may I present Captain David Freewall of USMC Reserve Fighter Squadron 243? Freewall, this is Miss Jeanette Priestly of the Chicago Tribune.”
“I know,” Captain Freewall said.
“You do?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Captain Freewall said, smiling at her. “The last thing Ol’ Pick said to me before he climbed in the airplane was that the penalty for treading on his turf was two broken legs.”
Jeanette looked at him wordlessly for a long moment.
“Treading on his turf”? Does that arrogant sonofabitch actually think I’m his turf?
She turned to Commander Porter.
“You were saying, Commander?”
“Well, when the Badoeng Strait—the aircraft carrier, Jeanette, that brought Marine Air Group 33 from San Diego—got close enough to fly Corsairs off her to here, Major Pickering communicated with Colonel Dunn . . .”
“They’re ol’ pals, Miss Priestly,” Captain Freewall said. “They go back to Guadalcanal. And for a regular, Colonel Billy’s a pretty good ol’ boy.”
“Colonel Billy, is that what they call him?” Jeanette asked.
“. . . offering Colonel William C. Dunn,” Commander Porter went on, “the opportunity, if he so desired, of making an orientation flight/cum sortie, of Korea three days before he would have otherwise have had the opportunity to do so. And Colonel Dunn—his first name is William; middle initial C, and that’s Dee You En En—accepted.”
“I see.”
“And very shortly, other aircraft from the Badoeng Strait and Sicily, the other aircraft carrier in the task force, will begin to land here to prepare for Korean service. But you saw, and will have exclusive photos of, the takeoff of the first combat sortie.”
“What kind of ‘combat sortie’?” Jeanette said.
“In this case, it will be what they call targets of opportunity, ” Captain Freewall said. “Which means they’ll take on anything that looks like the enemy.”
“I was under the impression that Major Pickering was an airline pilot—”
“Captain,” Captain Freewall corrected her. “Ol’ Pick’s an airline captain.”
“And is he qualified to go out and ‘take on anything that looks like the enemy’?”
“I think you could say he is, ma’am,” Freewall said. “Ol’ Pick’s capable of just about anything.”
Including, the arrogant bastard, of considering me his turf.
“The other aircraft from the Sicily and the Badoeng Strait will shortly be arriving, Jeanette,” Commander Porter said. “Perhaps you’d like to watch that from the control tower?”
“Yes, I would, thank you very much,” Jeanette said. “When did you say you thought Colonel Dunn and Major Pickering will be getting back?”
“Two, two and a half hours,” Commander Porter said.
[THREE]
K-1 USAF AIR FIELD PUSAN, KOREA 1137 29 JULY 1950
Lieutenant Colonel William C. Dunn could see the Korean landmass approaching, was aware that Pick had had them in a gentle descent from 10,000 feet for the last couple of minutes, and knew that something was up.
It was about 375 miles from Kobe to Pusan, which Pick had said was their “first destination in the Picturesque Land of the Morning Calm.”
They had been wheels-up at Kobe at 1040, and they had been indicating a little better than 400 miles per hour. That meant they would reach Pusan in