or not to apply it to prisoners. The other problem you have is your confession that you are an officer masquerading as a private soldier, which changes your position from prisoner of war to spy.”
“Sir, with all respect,” Zimmerman said, in Russian. “He probably doesn’t know anything we don’t already know. Sir, we’re already going to be very late—”
McCoy held up his hand to silence him.
“Major, as a professional courtesy between fellow intelligence officers, let me explain your options,” McCoy said. “They do not include being returned to your side anytime soon, so put that out of your mind. They do include being shot in the next few minutes as a spy. Keep that in your mind. Now we know that the 83rd Motorcycle Regiment, which has been kept out of the fighting since Seoul, will lead the attack of the 6th Division. We don’t know when that attack will take place. If you tell us when that attack will take place, you will not be shot immediately. You will be kept here until the time you tell us the attack will take place. If it occurs when you say it will, I will personally deliver you to Eighth Army Headquarters, and guarantee that you are treated as an officer prisoner under the Geneva Convention. If it does not take place when you tell us it will, you will be shot at that time. I will give you as long as it takes me to go to the latrine to make up your mind.”
McCoy walked out of the room, looked at his watch, picked up the mess kit coffee cup where he had laid it down, finished drinking it, and precisely five minutes after he had left the room, walked back into it.
Five minutes after that, he walked back out of the room, found the colonel, and told him what he had learned.
“You believe this officer, Captain?”
“Sir, I believe he thought I was prepared to have him shot. What he may have done is tell me that attack will be at 0300, because he knows it will be earlier; if it’s earlier, and we’re overrun, then he might be freed. I don’t think it will be after 0300, because he thinks he’ll be shot if it doesn’t happen then.”
“They don’t usually start anything in the middle of the night,” the colonel said, thoughtfully. “But they’re on a roll, and it would give them the advantage of surprise.”
McCoy didn’t reply. The colonel paused again, obviously in thought, and then said, “I’ll pass this on to division. And order a fifty-percent alert from nightfall. You’re still determined to stay here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Miss Priestly?”
“If Zimmerman and I stay, sir, I don’t think there’s much chance of getting her to leave.”
“Then I suggest you find someplace where you’ll have protection from incoming,” the colonel said. “They’re certainly going to fire their tubes—and probably the 105s they took from the 63rd Field Artillery—as a prelude to the attack, whenever they decide to make it.”
“Yes, sir,” McCoy said. “Sir, I’d like to go see the 19th Infantry. Would you have objection to my taking the major with me?”
“What are you going to do, put him in the back of Miss Priestly’s Jeep with Miss Priestly?”
“Actually, sir, I thought I’d put him in the front seat with Gunner Zimmerman and Miss Priestly, and I would ride in the back.”
What could have been a smile appeared momentarily on the colonel’s lips.
“Just make sure she’s in the Jeep, Captain,” he said.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Here, I’ll show you on the map where I think the 19th CP is,” the colonel said.
[FOUR]
HEADQUARTERS 19TH INFANTRY REGIMENT 24TH INFANTRY DIVISION KONGJU, SOUTH KOREA 1805 15 JULY 1950
“Jesus H. Christ!” the Garand-armed corporal standing to one side of the sandbagged door of the command post exclaimed when he saw the Jeep with a Korean in the front seat and the American woman in the back.
He walked over to the Jeep.
After apparently thinking it over first, he saluted.
“Yes, sir? Can I help you?”
“You can keep an eye on this enemy officer while we go inside,” McCoy said.
“Enemy officer” caught the ear of a major who had been standing talking to a sergeant on the other side of the sandbagged entrance. He walked over to the Jeep.
McCoy saluted.
“Enemy officer?” the major asked, then “Marines?” and finally, “War correspondent?”
“Yes, sir, three times,” McCoy said.
“The only thing I can do for you is advise you to get back to Division,” the major said. “We’ve just been advised to expect