"Well, I'm grateful. When did you put the leaf on, Major?"

"Day before yesterday. I just cleared the post. You can put me on the train in the morning."

"You didn't stick around because of me, I hope?"

"Well, sort of. I got you an office, sort of, in a Quonset hut at Camp Elliott, and I thought I should show you where it is. You've already got eight people who reported in. I put the senior sergeant in charge and told him you would be out there in the morning."

"Thank you," Banning said, simply.

They walked to Stecker's Ford coupe. When Stecker opened the trunk, there were two identical Valv-Paks in it. There was not enough room for two more, so one of Banning's was put in the backseat.

Stecker got behind the wheel and then handed Banning a sheet of teletype paper.

HEADQUARTERS US MARINE CORPS.

WASHINGTON DC.

1345 9APR42.

COMMANDING GENERAL.

2ND JOINT TRAINING FORCE.

SAN DIEGO, CAL.

1.SPECIAL DETACHMENT 14 USMC IS ACTIVATED 9APR4 2 AT CAMP ELLIOTT CAL. DETACHMENT IS SUBORDINATE TO a.s.sISTANT CHIEF OF STAFF FOR INTELLIGENCE, HEADQUARTERS USMC.

2.INTERIM TABLE OF ORGANIZATION & EQUIPMENT ESTABLISHED MANNING TABLE OF ONE (1) MAJOR; TWO (2) CAPTAINS (OR LIEUTENANTS); AND SIXTEEN (16) ENLISTED MEN.

3.COMMANDING GENERAL 2ND JOINT TRAINING FORCE IS DIRECTED TO PROVIDE LOGISTICAL AND ADMINISTRATIVE SUPPORT AS REQUIRED.

BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDANT:.

HORACE W. T. FORREST,.

BRIG GEN USMC.

Stecker started the car. After Banning had read the teletype message, he said, "That came in day before yesterday. The G-2 here is very curious."

"I'll bet he is," Banning said. "Do I get to keep this?"

"Yeah, sure."

Banning looked out the window and saw they were not headed toward Camp Elliott.

"Where are we going?"

"Coronado Beach Hotel," Stecker said. "I figured before you begin your rigorous training program, you're ent.i.tled to one night on a soft mattress."

"What training program? My orders are to collect these people and get them on a plane to Australia."

"You just can't do that," Stecker said. "There's a program to follow. You have to draw your equipment-typewriters, field equipment, a guidon, field stoves, organizational weapons, training films and a projector to show them-all that sort of thing. Then you start the training program. If there's no already published training program, you have to write one and submit it for approval."

Banning looked at Stecker with shock in his eyes, and then saw the mischief in Stecker's eyes.

"Jack?"

"Well, that's what I'm going to have to do the minute I get to New River and start to organize a battalion," he said. "And I figured that if I have to do it, you should."

"You had me worried."

"You are going to have to do some of that stuff. You're going to have to turn in a morning report every day, which means you will need a typewriter and somebody who knows how to use it. There's all kinds of paperwork, Ed, that you just won't be able to avoid-payrolls, allotments, requisitions."

"That never entered my mind."

"That's why I brought it up," Stecker said. "Maybe one of the people you've recruited can handle the paperwork, but just in case, I had a word with the G-l about getting you a volunteer who can do it for you."

"Jesus!" Banning said.

"The Marine Corps, Major," Jack Stecker said solemnly, "floats upon a sea of paper."

"I'd forgotten."

"Your manning chart calls for two company-grade officers," Stecker said. "You got them?"

"No. I asked for McCoy-and not only because he speaks j.a.panese. But I got turned down flat."

"You know what McCoy is up to. That didn't surprise you, did it?"

"I guess not."

"I know a guy-Mustang first lieutenant-named Howard. He doesn't speak j.a.panese. Before the war, he was on the rifle team. He's been seeing that the 2nd Raider Battalion got all the weapons they thought they wanted. That's about over. Good man."

"How come you don't want him for your battalion?"

"I do. I offered him a company."

"And?"

"He told me he wasn't sure he could handle it. He was at Pearl on December seventh. He panicked. He found himself a hole- actually a bas.e.m.e.nt arms room-and stayed there. After he saw that the arms were pa.s.sed out."

"That doesn't sound so terrible."

"He thinks it makes him unfit to take a command."

"You don't, I gather?"

"No. And I told him so. I think he would be useful to you, Ed."

"Would he volunteer?"

"I don't know. All you could do is ask him, I suppose."

"Where would I find him?"

"You'll see him tomorrow. I told him to keep an eye on your people."

"All this and the Coronado Beach Hotel, too? Or are you pulling my leg about that, too?"

"No," Stecker chuckled. "That's where we're going. Truth being stranger than fiction, I've got the keys to the Pacific & Far Eastern Shipping Company suite there. They keep it year round for the officers of their ships who are in port."

"How the h.e.l.l did you work that?"

"The guy that owns the company and I were in France together."

"His name is Fleming Pickering, and he's a captain in the Navy reserve."

"How'd you know?"

"He's the man I'm to report to in Melbourne," Banning said. "I didn't know about you and him. Or that he'd been a Marine."

"Somehow, I don't think you were supposed to tell me that."

"I'm sure I wasn't."

"Then I won't ask why you did. But at least that solves the problem of where you sleep while you're out here."

"You mean in the hotel?"

"Sure. Why not? I'm sure Pickering would want me to give you the keys. And speaking of keys, I'm going to leave you the Ford, too."

"I don't understand that."

"Well, cars are getting harder and harder to come by. They've stopped making them, you know, and people are buying up all the good used cars. I figure that I'll be out here again, or my boy will, or else friends who need wheels. So why sell it? I've got two cars on the East Coast."

"Jesus, Jack, I don't know . . ."

"I've already arranged to park it in the hotel garage. Just leave the keys with the manager when you're through with it."

"Things are going too smoothly. A lot of that, obviously, is thanks to you. But I always worry when that happens."

"You know what the distilled essence of my Marine Corps experience is?" Stecker said.

"No," Banning chuckled.

"You don't have to practice being uncomfortable; when it's time for you to be uncomfortable, the Corps will arrange for it in spades. In the meantime, live as well as you can. I'm surprised you didn't learn that from McCoy."

Stecker pulled up in front of the Coronado Beach Hotel.

"Here we are," he said. "Of course, if you'd rather, I can still drive you out to Elliott, and the Corps will give you an iron bunk and a thin mattress in a Quonset hut."

"This will do very nicely, Major Stecker, thank you very much."

"My pleasure, Major Banning."

(Four) Headquarters Motor Pool 2nd Joint Training Force Camp Elliott, California 18 April 1942 When First Lieutenant Joseph L. Howard, USMCR, walked up to the small shack that housed the motor pool dispatcher, he gave in to the temptation to add a little excitement to the lives of the dispatcher and the motor sergeant. Both of them, he saw, were engrossed in the San Diego Times.

He squatted and carefully tugged loose from the ground a large weed and its dirt-encrusted root structure. Then he spun it around several times to pick up speed, and let it fly. It rose high in the air.

"Good morning," Lieutenant Howard said loudly, marching up to the dispatch shack.

The weed reached the apogee of its trajectory, and then began its descent.

The motor sergeant looked up from his newspaper and got to his feet.

"Good morning, Sir," he said, a second before the weed struck somewhere near the center of the tin roof of the dispatch shack. There was a booming noise, as if an out-of-tune ba.s.s drum had been struck.

"Holy f.u.c.king Christ!" the motor sergeant said, "what the f.u.c.k was that?"

"Excuse me?" Lieutenant Howard said. "Were you speaking to me, Sergeant?"

The motor sergeant, still wholly confused, looked at Lieutenant Howard suspiciously.

"If the chaplain," Joe Howard said, still straight-faced, "heard a fine noncommissioned officer such as yourself using such language, Sergeant, he would be very disappointed."

The sergeant's wits returned.

"What the f.u.c.k did you do, Lieutenant?" he asked. "You scared the s.h.i.t out of me."

"You're not really suggesting that an officer and gentleman, such as myself, would do anything to disturb your peace and quiet, are you, Sergeant?"

"No, Sir, I'm sure the Lieutenant wouldn't do nothing like that," the motor sergeant said, "but I used to know a wisea.s.s armorer corporal at Quantico who had a sick sense of humor."

Howard laughed. "Les, you looked like you were coming out of your skin."

"You shouldn't do things like that to an old man like me."