our general’s suits,” Howe said, “shoes shined, et cetera— and one of us freshly shaved and smelling like a French whore—he will have established the pecking order as he wants it. Harriman will be the exalted ambassador dealing with a couple of unimportant lower-ranking generals who may have some information he may find useful.”
“Isn’t that what we are?”
“Flem, what it says on our orders—which are signed by Harry Truman—is that we are on a mission for him. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had word from the President that I’m supposed to place myself at the disposal of this guy, just that he’s coming.”
Pickering didn’t reply.
“What about you?” Howe pursued.
Pickering shook his head, “no.”
“Harry Truman sent me here to do a job for him—this isn’t Ralph Howe’s ego in high gear—and I don’t think I can do that job if Harriman thinks I am—we are—just a couple of guys whose function is to assist him in his mission. More important, that he can listen to what we have to say, and ignore it if it’s not what he wants to hear.”
“Yeah,” Pickering said thoughtfully.
“I think the word is agenda,” Howe said. “And I don’t think ours is necessarily locked in step with his.”
Pickering nodded.
“You know him well enough to call him by his first name?” Howe asked.
Pickering considered that a moment.
“Why not?”
“Do you ever call the Viceroy ‘Douglas’?”
“Not often,” Pickering said. “Sometimes, on private occasions, when no one, not even his wife, is there, I do. I call her Jean, which greatly annoys the Palace Guard.”
“When you mention the Viceroy in conversation tonight, refer to him as ’Douglas,’ ” Howe said. “Are we agreed on this, Flem?”
Pickering nodded again.
Howe smiled.
“And I will manage at least several times to forget my status in life and refer to our President and Commander-in-Chief as ’Harry,’ ” Howe said.
[THREE]
When Master Sergeant Charley Rogers, wearing khakis, and with his tie pulled down, answered the knock at the door, Major General Ralph Howe, USAR, Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR, and Captain George F. Hart, all in their shirtsleeves, all looked toward it from the table at which they were sitting, playing poker.
“Gentlemen,” Colonel Sidney Huff announced, “Ambassador Harriman and General Ridgway.”
“Come on in, Averell,” Pickering called. “How was the flight?”
Harriman came into the room, and Pickering remembered what Howe had said about Harriman looking like the Chairman of the Vestry: He was a tall, slim, balding man with sharp features. His eyebrows were full and almost startlingly black.
He walked toward the table, and Pickering and Howe rose to their feet.
“Good to see you, Fleming,” Harriman said, offering his hand. “When we can have a moment alone, I have a message and a small package from Patricia.”
“Yes, of course,” Harriman said. “How are you, General?”
General Matthew B. Ridgway was now in the room, walking toward the table. He was a large and muscular man, and when Pickering met his bright and intelligent eyes, he remembered what MacArthur had said about Ridgway being “one of the finest brains in the Army.”
Colonel Sidney Huff and a lieutenant colonel carrying a briefcase and wearing the aiguillette of an aide-de-camp came in and stood by the door.
“It’s good to see you again, sir,” Howe said, offering his hand to Ridgway.
“How are you, Ralph?” Ridgway said.
“You don’t know Pickering, do you?” Howe said.
“No, I don’t,” Ridgway said, offering Pickering his hand. “How do you do, General?”
“How do you do, sir?” Pickering said, and then turned to Harriman: “Are you hungry, Averell? Did they feed you on the plane? A drink, perhaps?”
“I could use a little taste,” Harriman said.
“General?” Pickering asked Ridgway.
“Please,” Ridgway said. “I don’t know what time it is according to my body clock, but it’s obviously 1700 somewhere. ”
“Charley,” Howe ordered. “Fix drinks, please.”
“George, call downstairs and have them send up a large order of hors d’oeuvres,” Pickering ordered. “We’ll decide about dinner later.” He turned to Huff. “Come on in, Sid,” he said.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Ridgway said. “This is Colonel James, my aide.”
“We’re trying to come up with a term to describe Charley and George,” Howe said. “Charley was my first sergeant when I was commanding a company, and George—who is a captain of homicide when he’s not a Marine—was with Flem all through the second war. He was with Flem on the first plane to land in Japan after the Emperor decided to surrender. ”
“With your permission, sir, I will leave now, and report to the Supreme Commander that