“Captain McCoy needs some photographs of islands in the Flying Fish Channel off Inchon,” the captain said. “And he has a very interesting authority directing us to make them for him—the Commander-in-Chief.”
“Sir, McCoy and I go back a long way,” Dunn said. “To Guadalcanal. Nothing he does surprises me.”
There were some chuckles at that.
“And before that, I just remembered,” Dunn said, “he was in Major Pickering’s OCS class.”
“Oh, really?” the captain said. “You’ve heard, McCoy, that Major Pickering went down?”
“Yes, sir, I have.”
“We all feel bad about that,” the captain said.
He shook his head, then went on: “It would probably be useful, Captain, if we knew why you wanted the photographs, ” the captain said.
“Sir,” McCoy said. “The problem there is that I can’t take the risk of another aviator going down with that knowledge.”
“Obviously, it has to do with an amphibious operation in the Inchon area,” the captain said. “On our way here—before the First Marine Brigade was diverted to Pusan—I was given a preliminary alert that such an operation—”
“Operation Blueberry,” his executive officer furnished.
The captain flashed him a displeased look and then went on: “—was being planned. And then it was called off. Since you come here asking for photographs of the Flying Fish Channel islands, it would then seem logical to me that the operation is back on, or another operation with the same purpose is being planned. My point, Captain, is that if I can figure that out, so can the enemy.”
This guy doesn’t like getting his marching orders from a lowly captain. If I were the captain of an aircraft carrier, I wouldn’t either.
McCoy didn’t respond directly. Instead, he dipped into the cavernous pockets of his utilities, came out with a map, and laid it on the captain’s chart table.
“My superiors feel, sir,” he said, “that during routine reconnaissance flights—or flights seeking to engage targets of opportunity—along the coastline here, photographs could be taken of the Flying Fish Channel, and the islands along it, without unduly raising the enemy’s suspicions.”
“Captain, as you’re doubtless aware, the First Marine Brigade is already engaged in the Pusan area,” the captain said. “The aircraft aboard the Badoeng Strait are charged with close air support of the brigade. What if there is a conflict between what the brigade needs and your photographic mission?”
“Sir, I would hope that this requirement would not conflict with the requirements of the brigade—”
“But if it does?” the captain asked, not very pleasantly.
“This mission, sir, requires photographs as I have described at least once in every twenty-four-hour period until further notice,” McCoy said.
“Even if that means the brigade doesn’t get what it asks for?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How am I to explain that to General Craig?”
“General Craig is aware of this operation, sir.”
“In detail?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, if I understand you correctly, Captain, I am not to be made ‘aware’ of the details of this operation?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Those are your orders? Not to tell me?”
“Sir, I was told that only General Craig was to be informed of the details.”
“Captain, I’ll be very frank. If those orders you have just shown me were not signed by the Commander-in-Chief, I’d tell you to go to hell,” the captain said. He turned to his executive officer: “See that it’s done, Mr. Grobbley.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
The captain started to walk out of his sea cabin. The others watched him uncomfortably until someone on the bridge called out, “Captain on the bridge!” then Lieutenant Colonels Unger and Dunn—the two Marine aviators— bent over the map McCoy had spread on the captain’s chart table.
“Charley,” Dunn said. “We’ll just have to squeeze this into the schedule. It can be done.”
Lieutenant Colonel Unger snorted.
Dunn raised his eyes to McCoy.
“How do we get the pictures to you, McCoy?”
“The first ones, sir, on the COD flights to K-1. In a sealed envelope, classified Top Secret, to be delivered to the Marine liaison officer at K-1. He’ll be expecting them, and I’ll get them, somehow, from him.”
Dunn nodded.
“In a week, sir,” McCoy went on, walking to the chart table, then pointing, “maybe less, they’ll have to be air-dropped onto one of the Tokchok-kundo islands, here. I’ll get the signal panel display to you. And there will be ground-to-air radios.”
“You’re going to be on those islands, are you?” Dunn asked.
McCoy didn’t reply.
“The colonel asked you a question, Captain,” Lieutenant Colonel Unger said, unpleasantly.
“Which question, obviously,” Dunn said, “Captain McCoy is not at liberty to answer. Easy, Charley.”
“I don’t like diverting aircraft from the brigade for any purpose,” Unger