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"Could he do that?" Koffler said.
"He could try to do it. That's not quite the same thing. The reason there are so few ports on Buka is that
the surf is so rough in most places-this time of the year especially. Presumably they know that. That
means he would either have to try to make it ashore near a port, which would place him very fat away, or
through the surf somewhere near here. Which won be quite difficult."
"They know what shape we're in supplywise," Howard said "Maybe they figured it was worth the risk."
"You think there's a chance he's not alone?" Steve asked.
"This could very well be wishful thinking, Steve," Reeve said. "Certainly, it is. But if I were the man in
charge and we going to all the trouble of sending someone up here, I would the extra mile and try to send
in more than one person-an supplies, of course."
"Get on the air, Steve," Howard ordered. "Send, `Message acknowledged and understood."
"That's all?"
"That's all. If they wanted to tell us more than they did, the would have."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
[Four]
COMMAND POST, 2ND BATTALION, FIFTH MARINES
GUADALCANAL, SOLOMON ISLANDS
0830 HOURS 6 OCTOBER 1942
Using his arm as a pillow, Major Jack (NMI) Stecker USMCR, was curled up asleep on his side on the
deck of the S-3 section. His Garand rifle, with two eight-round clips pinned to the strap, was hanging
from a nail in the wooden frame the situation map.
When the flyboy from Henderson Field walked into the command post asking to see the Old Man,
Stecker's S-3 sergeant was reluctant to disturb him.
"He was up all goddamned night, Captain," he said. "Can't this wait a couple of hours?" Captain Charles
M. Galloway, USMCR, shook his head no, and then said it aloud: "No, it won't, Gunny."
"Aye, aye, Sir," the gunny said, and went to Stecker an knelt beside him and gently shook his shoulder.
"Sir? Sir?" Stecker woke reluctantly, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder. But then he was suddenly
wide awake, forcing himself to sit up.
"What's up, Gunny.?" Stecker asked as he looked at his watch.
"An officer to see you, Sir." Stecker searched the dark area and found Galloway.
"This better be important, Captain," Stecker said, matter-of-factly.
"Sir, my name is Galloway. I have VMF-229." Stecker saw the look on Galloway's face.
"Give us some privacy, will you, Gunny?" he said softly.
He waited until the gunny was out of earshot and then said, "OK, let's have it."
"Your son crashed on landing about twenty-five minutes ago, Sir," Galloway said.
"You're here, that means bad news," Stecker said.
"He's pretty badly banged up, Sir, but he's alive."
"Define `pretty badly,' would you, please?"
"Both of his legs are broken; he has a compound fracture of the right arm; his collarbone has probably
been cracked. He almost certainly has broken ribs, and there are probably some internal injuries."
"Jesus Christ!" Stecker exhaled. "Is he going to live?"
"Commander Persons-I just left him-said that barring complications-"
"Persons?" Stecker interrupted. "Mean little guy?" He held his hand up to nearly his shoulder level, to
indicate a runt.
"Yes, Sir."
"Barring complications, what?"
"He will recover and will probably even be able to return to flight status." I'm telling you that because
that's what Persons told me, and because I want to believe it, not because I do believe it. When they
pulled him from the wreck, I was surprised that he was alive.
"I don't like to think what Mrs. Stecker will do when she gets the telegram," Stecker said. "I suppose
you've already set that in motion?"
"No, Sir. I haven't. MAG-21 handles that, Sir. You could probably talk to Colonel Dawkins-"
"What happened? `Crashed on landing'? Is that a polite way of saying it was his fault?"
"It looked to me as if his right tire was flat, Sir."
"You saw the accident?"
"Yes, Sir. I was right behind him in the pattern.
"And?"
And a second after he touched down, he started to ground loop to the right, and then he was rolling end
over end down the strip; the only way it could have been worse was if there had been more gas in his
tanks and it exploded "He was attempting to make a dead-stick landing, Sir. He was out of fuel."
"How did that happen?"
"They hit us pretty badly this morning, Major-"
"I was up earlier, I saw it."
"_and he stayed up as long as he thought he could, as long as he thought he had fuel to stay."
"You encourage that sort of thing, Captain, do you? Staying up there until you have just enough fuel to
maybe make it back to the field?" Stecker asked nastily, and then immediately apologized. "Forgive me.
That was uncalled for. And you were up there, too, weren't you, presumably doing the same thing?"
"We lost three Wildcats this morning, Sir. And the Air Corps lost two of their P400s."
"Counting my son?"
"No, Sir. Not counting him."
But including a Wildcat piloted by Major Jack Finch. Finch wouldn't have been up there if I hadn't told
him he could, for auld long syne.
"All lost? Or just shot down?"
"One of the P400 pilots made it back to the field, Sir. Just him."
"Tell me about this flat tire," Stecker said after a moment.
"He told me that he'd taken some hits.... Major, I didn't mention this, but he shot down two Bettys and a
Zero this morning. He's an ace. That makes it six total for him."
"All I knew he had was one," Stecker said. "The flat tire?"
"He called and said he'd taken some hits, so I pulled up beside him and took a look, and there were
holes in the area of his landing gear."
"And you told him this?"
"I signaled him, Sir. His radio was not working. But he understands my signal."
"Then why didn't he try to make a wheels-up landing?"
"I can only presume he thought he could make it, Sir."
"And that he wanted to save the airplane?"
"Yes, Sir. I think that probably had a lot to do with the decision he made."
"What about the Pickering boy?" Stecker asked. "Was he one of the other three you lost?" Galloway
was surprised at the question.
"No, Sir. He made it back all right. He was flying on your son's wing, Major." And he landed three
minutes before your boy-time enough for him to be walking away from his revetment when your boy
came in, to see the crash, and to run to the plane and listen to your boy scream for the five minutes or so
it took to pry him from the wreckage. He made it back all right, but I'm going to have trouble with him. I
know the look he had in his eyes.
"I know his father," Stecker said.
"Yes, Sir. Major, I have a jeep-" Stecker met his eyes. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]