Under Fire - By W.E.B. Griffin Page 0,225

Commander-in-Chief, I will put ashore a two-division force at Inchon 15 September.”

Howe looked at him, but didn’t respond.

He must know that I’ll message Truman that he said that. But Harry’s no dummy. He knows that already.

“There are several interrelated problems connected with that,” MacArthur said. “If you feel free to comment on them, I would welcome your observations. If you feel it would be inappropriate for you to do so, I will understand.”

“Yes, sir?”

“The first deals with General Walker. I am sometimes, perhaps justifiably, accused of being too loyal to my subordinates. There has been some suggestion that otherwise I would have relieved General Walker.”

“General, I’m not qualified to comment on the performance of an Army commander.”

“All right, I understand your position. But I hope you can answer this one for me. General Almond, for whom I have great respect, feels he needs the First Marine Division to lead the invasion. That means taking the 1st Marine Brigade—which is, as you know, essentially the Fifth Marine Regiment, Reinforced—from Pusan, and assigning it—reassigning it—to the First Marine Division. General Walker, for whose judgment I have equal respect, states flatly that he cannot guarantee the integrity of his Pusan positions if he loses the 1st Marine Brigade to the invasion force—which has now been designated as X Corps, by the way. That problem is compounded by the fact that Generals Walker and Almond are not mutual admirers.”

Howe looked at MacArthur without speaking.

“No comment again?” MacArthur asked.

“General, you’re certainly not asking me for advice?”

“I suppose what I’m asking—the decision has been made, by the way—is what, if you were in my shoes, you would have done.”

“I can only offer what any smart second lieutenant could suggest, General, that you had to make a decision between which was more important, a greater risk to the Pusan perimeter by pulling the Marines out of there, or a greater risk to the Inchon invasion because the Marines were short a regiment.”

“And what do you think your hypothetical second lieutenant would decide?”

Howe met MacArthur’s eyes for a moment before replying.

“To send the Marines to Inchon, sir.”

“And Major General Howe, after seeing what he saw in the Pusan perimeter?”

“To send the Marines to Inchon, sir,” Howe said.

“History will tell us, I suppose, whether the hypothetical second lieutenant, the aide-de-camp to the Commander-in-Chief, and the commander forced to make the decision were right, won’t it? X Corps will land at Inchon with the full-strength First Marine Division as the vanguard.”

MacArthur picked up the coffee pitcher and added some to Howe’s cup, then refreshed his own.

“There’s one more delicate question, Howe, that you may not wish to answer.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It has come to the attention of my staff that our friend Fleming Pickering has mounted one of his clandestine operations. I don’t know how reliable the information my staff has is, but there is some concern that it might in some way impact on Inchon.”

In other words, Charley Willoughby’s snoops have heard something—how much?—about the Flying Fish Channel operation. Why should that be a surprise? They’ve been following us around the way the KGB followed me around at Potsdam.

“I thought perhaps this operation might be connected with Pickering’s son,” MacArthur went on. “Who is not just a Marine aviator, but the son of the CIA’s Director of Asian Operations.”

So why don’t you ask Pickering yourself?

“General Pickering doesn’t tell me much about his CIA covert operations, General,” Howe said. “But I’m sure there’s more than one of them, any—or all—of which might have an impact on Inchon. If any of them did, I’m sure he would tell you.”

“Well, perhaps after you tell him—you will tell him?— that the Inchon invasion is on, he’ll come to me. If he has something to come to me with.”

“I will tell him, General,” Howe said.

MacArthur put his coffee cup down.

“Thank you for coming to see me, and with such alacrity,” MacArthur said.

Well, I have just been dismissed.

How much did I give him that I should not have?

“I hope it was worth your time, General,” Howe said.

MacArthur put his hand on Howe’s shoulder and guided him to the door.

“Thank you again,” he said, and offered him his hand.

Major General Charles A. Willoughby was in the outer office waiting to see MacArthur.

And probably to find out what MacArthur got from me.

“Come on, Charley,” Howe said, looking at Willoughby, and waiting until Master Sergeant Charley Rogers had gotten quickly from his seat and handed him his grease gun before adding, “Good morning, General Willoughby.”

[TWO]

COMMAND POST COMPANY C, 1ST BATTALION,

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