"Banning didn't go through Parris Island, either, did he""
"No, Sir. I believe Major Banning came into The Corps as an officer, Sir."
"Good man, Banning," Pickering said.
"Yes, Sir."
"You know what they teach you as a boot at Parris Island, Rickabee? What they taught me, and Jack Stecker?"
"I don't take The General's point, Sir."
"They taught Jack and me that one of the things that makes Marines special, makes them different, better, than soldiers is that Marines don't leave their wounded, or their dead, on the battlefield."
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you think they still teach that, Rickabee? Or was that something just from the olden days of World War One?"
"No, Sir. I don't think it is."
"You think they taught that to Lieutenant Moore and Sergeant Hart, for example, when they went through Parris Island?"
"Yes, Sir. I'm sure they did."
"And they went back for Moore, didn't they, on Guadalcanal, when he was hit? A couple of Marines with balls went out there and got Moore and the Marines with him because they knew they were either dead or wounded, and Marines don't leave their dead or wounded, right?"
Where the hell is this conversation going?
"Yes, Sir. That's probably just what happened." There was a knock at the door and two Army medics pushed a rolling cart into the room.
I hope the food sobers hint up.
Lunch was vegetable soup, fried chicken, macaroni and noodles, a slice of bread, a banana custard, and a pot of tea.
"Please bring me some coffee," General Pickering said, and then changed his mind. "No. Belay that. I don't want any coffee. Thank you very much." He took instead another swallow of Famous Grouse. Then he carefully cut a piece of chicken from the breast on his plate and put it in his mouth.
I hope that tastes terrible and he will divert the anger that's inside him to eating out the mess officer.
"Well, the mess sergeant must be drunk," General Pickering said. "That's really good."
"I'm pleased, Sir."
"I wonder what Joe Howard and Steve Koffler are eating on Buka?"
"I'm afraid they're not eating this well, General."
"More to the point, Rickabee," General Pickering asked conversationally, "when did we kick them out of The Corps)"
What the hell does that mean?
"Sir?"
"Well, I would call their physical condition pretty much the same as being wounded, and that's presuming they're still alive.
If they were Marines, we'd go get them, wouldn't we? Marines don't get left on their battlefield when they're wounded. Or dead. So that means they're not Marines, right?"
"General, if Major Banning could relieve them, he would."
"Wrong. Major Banning has written them off. You were here when Dillon told me that. As far as Banning is concerned, as far as anybody is concerned, they're dead."
"I'm afraid that's true, Sir. There's absolutely nothing that can be done, given the circumstances."
"I'm going to tell you something, Colonel Rickabee," General Pickering said, just this side of nastily. "This Marine is `going to try."
"I'm not sure I take The General's meaning, Sir."
"You can knock off that `The General this' and `The General that' crap, Rickabee. And you know damned well what I mean.
You just don't want to hear it."
"May I speak bluntly, Sir?"
"You better. Bullshit time is over."
"There's nothing you can do, Sir."
"Maybe not. But I am damned sure going to try. If I have the power to have some captain deliver overnight two cases of booze to me from the West Coast, I ought to be able to divert a little of it to getting those two kids off of Buka."
"Trying to reinforce them would endanger their safety."
"What safety, for Christ's sake? Feldt and Banning are sitting around in Townsville with their thumbs up their ass waiting to hear they're dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that you have lost your confidence in Major Banning."
"I was sorry to lose it. What's happened is that he's forgotten he's a Marine and fallen under Feldt's goddamned British philosophy that no sacrifice is too great for King and Country."
"I can't believe that Ed Banning is capable of forgetting he's a Marine," Rickabee said, aware that he was on the edge of losing his temper.
"Then why is he sitting around waiting for those two kids to get killed?"
I'll be a sonofabitch. Touch‚, General
"General, I wouldn't know where to start. I'm exceedingly reluctant to sit here in Washington and second-guess what Banning is doing, the decisions he is forced to make."
"I'm not," Pickering said simply. "And, for a place to start, I want to see McCoy."
"McCoy?"