first to agree that using the helicopters to carry the wounded and the Cubs to direct artillery fire, or otherwise make themselves useful to the First Marine Brigade (Provisional), had a higher priority than being put at risk to maybe be able to rescue one officer.
And if he heard about the stamped-out PP and arrow, he would naturally want to believe it was Pick, and that would tear the scab off his wounded heart.
The flip side of all this, of course, was that Pick may have stamped out his initials and an arrow to show his planned course—or maybe that was disinformation; he knew where the American lines were—and might be hiding out somewhere, maybe literally up to his ears in a feces-fertilized rice paddy, and by now getting pretty hungry and discouraged.
And if one of Pick’s pilots was down, and needed to be looked for with a Cub, Pick would be out there flying it, and worrying about what General Cushman would say about a squadron commander taking a risk like that later, not about the risk to his own skin.
I just can’t leave the sonofabitch out there. Even if he deserves it. He wouldn’t leave me out there, and I can’t leave him.
Dunn had always heard there was no such thing as a hopeless situation. Until now, he had never believed it.
There was only one thing he could think of to do, and that was find Killer McCoy and dump the situation in his lap.
[FOUR]
K-1 USAF AIR FIELD PUSAN, KOREA 1105 8 AUGUST 1950
Captain James Overton, the Marine liaison officer at K-1, was surprised when Lieutenant Colonel William C. Dunn climbed down from the cockpit of the Avenger. But not too surprised to forget to take his shoes off his desk, stand up, and come to attention as Dunn came into his office.
“As you were,” Dunn said, smiling, putting him at ease.
“Good morning, sir,” Overton said. “Didn’t expect to see you flying the COD.”
“Well, Overton, life is full of little surprises, I’ve found,” Dunn said.
He took the envelope of photos from inside his flight suit.
“You know what this is,” Dunn said.
“Yes, sir.”
"What time does Captain McCoy usually come by to pick it up?”
“Sir, a sergeant comes by and picks it up,” Overton said, looked at his watch, and added, “usually between 1230 and 1300.”
“I have to see Captain McCoy,” Dunn said. “You think the sergeant would know where he is? Is there a phone where we can reach him?”
“I don’t think so, sir,” Overton said. “I get the feeling, sir, that they’re out of town someplace.”
“You mean out of town, as in away, or out of Pusan?”
“Out of Pusan, sir. But I don’t know where.”
“Damn it, it’s really important that I get to see Captain McCoy. Do you have any idea who would know where he is, or how I can get in touch with him?”
Captain Overton lowered his voice.
“That CIA agent, Major Dunston, would probably know, sir.”
“And how would I get in touch with Major Dunston?”
“I don’t know, sir. Maybe the Army’s G-2 would know. But they might not tell you if they did know.”
“The G-2 would be the Eighth Army G-2, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have a Jeep. How long would it take me to drive there?”
“An hour, sir. Maybe a little longer.”
And that means an hour and a half. Twice an hour and a half. I’d have to come back. And Overton is right. They might know where the CIA guy is—they might even know where McCoy is—but they probably wouldn’t tell me. I don’t have the need to know.
“Then I don’t seem to have much choice, do I, except to wait here for McCoy’s sergeant to show up.”
“It doesn’t look that way, sir,” Overton said.
Thirty minutes later, the Avenger’s crew chief came in and reported that since there “wasn’t hardly nothing for the Badoeng Strait,” they could take off whenever the colonel was ready.
Dunn decided to wait another thirty minutes for Mc-Coy’s sergeant, and when that passed, decided to wait another thirty minutes.
Twenty-five minutes into the second thirty minutes, he took Captain Overton’s arm and led him outside.
“Overton, I don’t care how you do it, you discreetly— this is an intelligence situation—get word to Major Dunston, asking him to tell Captain McCoy to get in touch with me as soon as he can. It’s very important. And call the sergeant major at the brigade, same message. Or anyone else you can think of to ask. Discreetly.”