“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” the Easterbunny said. “What the hell, I’m a Marine.”
Chapter Nine
[ONE]
Water Lily Cottage
Brisbane, Australia
0715 Hours 23 October 1942
Second Lieutenant John Marston Moore, USMCR, pulled on the emergency brake of the Studebaker President, opened the door, and then, very carefully, wincing with the pain, lifted up on his left leg and swung it out of the car.
“Sonofabitch!” he said softly. He turned on the seat, put the other leg out, reached over and grasped the handle of the briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist, and then stood up. He glanced up at the porch and swore again. Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, wearing a pale-blue silk dressing robe, was standing there, drinking a cup of coffee, looking at him.
Moore smiled, then walked as briskly as he could to the house and up the wide steps to the porch.
“Good morning, General.”
“When was the last time a doctor looked at your legs?” Pickering asked.
“I go in for a checkup regularly, Sir.”
“That’s not what I asked, Johnny.”
“About a week ago, Sir. Maybe ten days.”
“And what did he say?”
“That considering the nature of the wound, a certain amount of discomfort is to be expected.”
“That didn’t look like discomfort; that looked like pain.”
“I’m all right, Sir.”
“When you’ve had your breakfast, we will both go see the doctor.”
“That’s not necessary, Sir.”
“Why couldn’t Pluto have gone to the dungeon?” Pickering asked, ignoring his reply.
“I was awake when the phone rang, Sir,” Moore said. “And Pluto had just gone to sleep.”
“There’s a significant difference, Johnny, between stoicism and foolishness, or worse, idiocy.”
Moore didn’t reply.
“Sit down,” Pickering ordered. “Was the trip worthwhile?”
“From my point of view, Sir, very worthwhile. I’m not sure how you will feel about it.”
Trying-and not quite succeeding-to make it look painless, Moore sat down on a rattan couch before a rattan coffee table, unlocked the handcuffs attaching the briefcase to his wrist, and then unlocked the briefcase itself. He handed Pickering a large, sealed manila envelope.
“George!” Pickering said, raising his voice. “If there’s any coffee left, bring it. And a cup and saucer.”
He tore open the envelope and took from it several sheets of paper.
=TOP SECRET=
URGENT- VIA SPECIAL CHANNEL
NAVY DEPARTMENT WASH DC 2115 220CT42
FOR: SUPREME COMMANDER SOUTH WEST PACIFIC AREA
EYES ONLY BRIGADIER GENERAL FLEMING PICKERING, USMCR
1. SECNAV HAS DIRECTED ME TO INFORM YOU OF THE FOLLOWING:
A. CHIEF OF STAFF, USA, SECWAR CONCURRING, ANNOUNCES THE PROMOTION OF 1/LT HONG SON DO, SIGC, USAR TO CAPT, SIGC, USAR, WITH DATE OF RANK 1AUG42.
B. CHIEF OF STAFF, USA, SECWAR CONCURRING, ANNOUNCES THE PROMOTION OF CAPT HONG SON DO, SIGC, USAR TO MAJ, SIGC, USAR, WITH DATE OF RANK 21OCT42.
C. ACTING COMMANDANT, USMC, SECNAV CONCURRING, HAVING WAIVED TIME IN GRADE REQUIREMENTS IN VIEW OF EXEMPLARY SERVICE, ANNOUNCES PROMOTION OF 2/LT JOHN MARSTON MOORE, USMCR, TO 1/LT USMCR WITH DATE OF RANK 21OCT42.
D. ACTING COMMANDANT, USMC, SECNAV CONCURRING, ORDERS THE IMMEDIATE SEPARATION FROM ACTIVE SERVICE OF SGT GEORGE F. HART, USMCR, FOR PURPOSE OF ACCEPTING COMMISSION AS
2/LT USMCR WITH CONCURRENT CALL TO ACTIVE DUTY IN PRESENT STATION.
E. SECNAV, CHIEF OF STAFF TO COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF CONCURRING, AUTHORIZES 2/LT GEORGE F. HART, USMCR, ACCESS TO SUCH CLASSIFIED MATERIEL AS BRIG GEN FLEMING PICKERING, USMCR, AT HIS DISCRETION, MAY DECIDE THE EXIGENCIES OF THE NAVAL SERVICE REQUIRE.
2. SENIOR NAVAL OFFICER PRESENT, SUPREME HEADQUARTERS, SWPOA, WILL BE ADVISED THROUGH
ROUTINE CHANNELS OF PARAS C. THROUGH D. HEREOF FOR ADMINISTRATIVE PURPOSES.
3. SECNAV DESIRES TO EXPRESS HIS APPRECIATION TO BRIG GEN PICKERING FOR HIS REPORT OF 22OCT42, AND TO RESTATE HIS COMPLETE CONFIDENCE IN GEN PICKERING’S DISCRETION. SECNAV WISHES TO EMPHASIZE INTEREST IN HIGHEST QUARTERS OF SUCCESSFUL COMPLETION OF GEN PICKERING’S BASIC MISSION TO SUPREME HEADQUARTERS, SWPOA.
BY DIRECTION:
DAVID HAUGHTON, CAPTAIN, USN
ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT TO THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
=TOP SECRET=
Sergeant George Hart, in a khaki shirt and green trousers, came onto the porch, carrying a silver coffeepot in one hand and a cup and saucer in the other. There was a snub-nosed.38 caliber revolver in a holster on his belt.