Part 62 (1/2)
”-is that you don't mean 'coordination.' You mean control by Charley Willoughby,” Pickering went on. ”I fired my Tokyo station chief primarily because he 'coordinated' entirely too much with you. That's not our function-one of the things I wanted to make sure you understood clearly when I met with you later on to discuss your relations.h.i.+p with Ed Banning.”
Willoughby's face showed anger and surprise. He looked at MacArthur to get his reaction.
”According to Ned Almond,” MacArthur said, as if he had not heard a word of the exchange, ”while it could easily have been worse, the wound-while quite painful-is not serious.”
”He's in the Navy Hospital in Sasebo, sir,” Pickering said.
”With your son? That's-I hate to say fortunate-but if they have to be in hospital, it's fortunate that they can be together,” MacArthur said.
”My son is on his way to San Diego, sir,” Pickering said. ”They felt 'Diego could give him more of what he needs than they could.” He paused and smiled. ”But Major McCoy is not alone. Mrs. McCoy went to Sasebo to see my son, and they-concerned for her advanced pregnancy- ordered her to bed.”
”She's all right?”
”She was as of when we left last night, sir. Dr. Schermer says having McCoy there is very good for her.”
”Almond also said that he was afraid that McCoy would not mention his wounds to you, and if he did, you would not mention them to me. Ned wants him to have the Purple Heart.”
”General Almond sent me a message to that effect, sir. One of the first things that the Deputy to the Deputy here is charged with doing is finding out how I can get a Purple Heart for him.”
”That won't be a problem, Colonel,” MacArthur said. ”Major McCoy will receive his Purple Heart from my hands.”
”Sir?” Banning and Pickering asked, surprised, in chorus.
”Whenever I can,” MacArthur said, ”I like to visit my wounded in hospital, and personally pin the Purple Heart medal on them. I had already planned to fly to Sasebo tomorrow to do so there. And I will take great pleasure in seeing that your man McCoy is properly decorated.”
”That's very kind of you, sir,” Pickering said.
”There is, of course, as always, room for you on the Bataan. Bataan.”
”I appreciate that, sir, but I have a lot to do here.”
”It'll be a quick trip. Depart Sasebo at 0600, go to the hospital, and then come right back.”
Pickering didn't reply immediately, and MacArthur went on: ”A photo of your man McCoy getting his medals from me, with you and his wife looking on-even if not for publication-would be something I daresay they would treasure for the rest of their lives.”
Pickering thought: G.o.dd.a.m.n it, he's right. G.o.dd.a.m.n it, he's right.
”You're right, sir. I'll be at Haneda at 0600.”
”Willoughby,” MacArthur asked. ”When can you make time in your schedule for General Pickering and Colonel Banning?”
”At any time, sir.”
”Now, for example?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Well, that's it, then. Welcome back to the Far East, Colonel. Good luck on your new a.s.signment. And I'll see you, Fleming, first thing in the morning.”
[SIX].
ROOM 308, MATERNITY WARD U.S. NAVAL HOSPITAL U.S. NAVY BASE, SASEBO SASEBO, j.a.pAN 0915 23 OCTOBER 1950.
Captain George F. Hart, USMCR, came through the door trailed by an Army captain-who had a Leica 35-mm camera hanging around his neck, and a bra.s.sard reading 'PIO' around his right sleeve-and Lieutenant (j.g.) Rosemary Hills, NC, USNR.
”Well, how are things in Honeymoon Heaven today?” he inquired cheerfully.
”What the h.e.l.l are you doing here, George?” Major Kenneth R. McCoy-who was sitting propped up in the oversized Sumo Wrestler's Special Bed sharing Stars and Stripes Stars and Stripes with his wife-inquired. with his wife-inquired.
”Captain, the ugly one, with the inhospitable att.i.tude,” Hart said, ”is Major McCoy. The good-looking one is Mrs. McCoy.”
”Good morning,” the captain said.
”What the h.e.l.l is going on, George?” McCoy asked.
”You are about to be decorated with the Purple Heart medal by El Supremo himself,” Hart said.
”Oh, bulls.h.i.+t!” McCoy said.
”And the Silver Star,” the captain said.
”But not in that bed,” Hart said. ”When Colonel Huff heard about the two of you cozily together in the wrestler's bed, he made the point that it lacks the proper military flavor for this momentous occasion.”
”Screw him!”
”Ken!” Mrs. McCoy said.
”And General Pickering agreed with him. You will get your Purple Heart in a wheelchair, as Mrs. McCoy, in her wheelchair, looks adoringly on.”
”And the Silver Star,” the captain repeated. ”The Purple Heart and the Silver Star.”
”What the h.e.l.l is he talking about, Silver Star?” McCoy asked.
”Sir, you are about to be awarded the Silver Star and the Purple Heart,” the captain said.
”We don't have much time,” Lieutenant (j.g.) Hills said, and rolled a wheelchair up to Ernie's side of the bed. ”Can you make it all right, Mrs. McCoy?”
”I'll be all right. But would you hand me my cosmetics kit and the hand mirror from the bathroom?”
”Just as soon as we get you into the chair,” Nurse Hills said.
”You need some help, Ken?” Hart asked.
”What I want to know is, what the h.e.l.l he's talking about,” McCoy said. ”What about the Silver Star?”
”Sir, you are about to receive, third award, the Silver Star medal,” the captain said.
”For what?” McCoy asked, genuinely confused.
The captain reached into his tunic pocket and came out with a thin stack of folded paper. He searched through it, peeled one sheet away from the others, and started to hand it to McCoy.