He also decided it would do no good to take the matter up with either Lieutenant Colonel Stanley N. Holliman, USMC, Executive Officer of MAG-25, or Brigadier General D. G. McInerney, the senior Marine Aviator on Guadalcanal. While he had a great-in the case of General McInerney, nearly profound- professional admiration for these officers, both men were also awash in the seas of gallantry. They would not understand why Dawkins did not wish this idiotic mission to take place.
They will understand the gallantry. They will be touched by the gallantry.
If they can find the time, they will be standing at attention, saluting and humming the Marine Hymn as Galloway and Finch and their goddamned R4D on goddamned skis roar down the runway.
There is only one man who can bring this idiocy to a screeching hall, Colonel Dawkins decided, and therefore it is my duty to go see him.
"When are you going, Charley?" he asked Galloway.
"Whenever they send word. Here to Port Moresby, then to Buka, then back here."
"Why Moresby? It's just as close, direct from here."
"Moresby has landing lights," Galloway explained. "We want to make the leg up there in the dark."
"I see," Dawkins said. He stood up. "I've got to go see G-3 Air at the Division CP. You need a ride anywhere?"
"No, Sir. Thank you."
"Well, hello, Dawkins," Major General Alexander Archer Vandergrift, Commanding General of the First Marine Division, said when he came out of his office and saw Dawkins sitting on a folding chair. "We don't see much of you."
Colonel Dawkins rose to his feet.
"Sir, I'd hoped the General could spare me a few minutes of his time."
Vandergrift's eyebrows rose in surprise. He glanced at his watch.
"I can give you a couple of minutes right now," he said, then held open the piece of canvas tenting that served as the door to his office.
Vandergrift went to his desk (a folding wooden table holding a U.S. Field Desk, a cabinet like affair with a number of drawers and shelves), sat down on a folding chair, crossed his legs, and looked at Dawkins.
Dawkins assumed the at-ease position. He put his feet twelve inches apart and folded his hands together in the small of his back.
The formality was not lost on Vandergrift.
"OK, Colonel, let's have it," he said.
"Sir, there's an officer visiting, Major Dillon-"
"Jake came by to make his manners," Vandergrift interrupted. "What about him?"
"Did the General happen to see Major Dillon's orders?"
"The General did," Vandergrift said dryly. "Interesting, aren't they?"
"He has laid a mission on one of my squadron commanders, and on Major Finch of MAG-25-"
"I'm familiar with it," Vandergrift said. "You obviously don't like it. So make your point, Colonel."
"That's it, Sir, I don't like it."
"Because of the risk?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I don't think you've been to see General McInerney about this, have you, Colonel?"
"No, Sir. I'm out of the chain of command."
"I won't give you the standard speech about the chain of command. You're a good Marine and you know all about it.
And, in a way, since you do know the consequences of violating it, I admire your conviction in coming to see me directly."
"Sir, they have one chance in five of carrying this off."
"When he came to see me, it was General McInerney's judgment that they have one chance in ten," Vandergrift said.
"Yes, Sir. General McInerney is probably right. It borders on the suicidal, and it will deprive us of two good squadron commanders."
Raising his eyes to meet Dawkins', Vandergrift started to say something, stopped, and then went on: "After we'd accepted the obvious fact that we've gotten an order and we have no choice but to obey it, General McInerney and I also concluded that General Pickering was certainly aware of the risk and that he considers it acceptable."
"I don't know General Pickering, General. I've been searching my mind, and-"
"He and General McInerney were together in France. With Jack (NMI) Stecker, by the way. At about the same time Jack got his Medal of Honor, Pickering got the Distinguished Service Cross. I met him here. When Colonel Goettge was killed, he filled in as G-2 until they could send us a replacement. I was impressed with his brains, and his character."
"Yes, Sir."
Well, I tried and I lost.
"He was then a Navy captain," Vandergrift went on, "on the staff of the Secretary of the Navy. He showed up here the day after the invasion and told me he just couldn't sail off into the sunset with the Navy when they left us on the beach. I tell you this because..."
He paused a moment, then began again.
"While I don't know how he got to be Brigadier General of Marines, General McInerney and I both think it was a wise decision on somebody's part."
"Yes, Sir."
"Have you any other questions, Colonel?"
"No, Sir."
"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Colonel, and conclude that before you went over General McInerney's head, you gave it a lot of thought. So far as I'm concerned, this discussion never took place."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you."
"One more thing, Dawkins. One of the Wildcat pilots in VMF-229 is General Pickering's only son. I think we may presume that the lives of Marine Aviators on Guadalcanal are never out of General Pickering's mind for very long."