Command Decision

by WILLIAM WISTER HAINES

39

DENNIS had stood alone on the roof of a Group Ops tower to watch the take-off. Heavy ground mist had blanketed the lowlands during; the night. It clung still like a three-dimensional blotter over everything. For brief seconds he had been alone in the damp grayness with a troubled, broken silence that swirled and eddied around him like the fingers of the mist itself.

Every plane motor on the field had been cut off after warming up. Through the enveloping background of the silence, he could hear occasionally the faint purring of the bowser engines pumping to replace in the plane tanks every drop of the precious gallons expended in the warming up of the plane motors,

Dennis had been raising his wrisl watch closer to his eyes when he heard them. There was an explosion of muffted coughing padded with the whirring of starters. Then the reports deepened as motors caught. The noise blended rapidly into a cup of continuous thunder that pressed in around him from every side. The air, the roof, his clothes, his body, the universe itself, began to shake with a thunder of vibrations rising up and ever up beyond every former crescendo of man’s imagining.

Around him the grayness of the mist tossed and danced in fitful homeless dislocation, swirling and opening and closing, lifting and falling and eddying in a demented frenzy of disintegration that tore the physical texture of the air. Then through the turbulence that beat itself away from the very bondage of the earth he had seen the spectral fans of the ruling lights rolling around the perimeter track toward him.

The great beetles waddled heavily as they came. Through the thunder cut the gnatlike squealing of brakes protesting the crushing momentum of bomb and gas loads. They came faster, running a little to catch up with each other and then checking themselves with clumsy jerks and half turns.

The compressed waiting line zigzagged back into the mist, which had become heavy with the acrid fumes of burning brake bands. Down the line Dennis could see the faces of the pilots and co-pilots and discern the tension under the long visors even through the blur of the universal vibrations. Some wiped endlessly with waste at the vapor on the plexiglas before them, some craned their necks anxiously out of windows before closing up another few inches.

From long habit Dennis counted as they came. The brakes on the last one were still squealing when he saw the blink of the Ops light. The heavy thunder of the column had abated now for economy of fuel. With the blinking of that light it broke over him again in all the final fury of the force that beat down gravity itself.

The lead plane lifted visibly in its tracks against the agonized rigidity of its brakes. The naked girl on the nose blurred, even her most prominent points of interest dissolving into one quivering pale blob of light against mottled green darkness. Mist leaped upward in flight from the thunder of the whole column. Through the sudden clarity Dennis saw space opening behind the lead ship, and saw that she was receding from him.

He knew that Ted should be busy at the radio desk. As always Dennis had driven Martin out to the parking stand in his own car. This morning the young pilot had had his crew drawn up at rigid altention to await them, his eager face almost bursting with pride over their passenger.

“Good morning, sir. Would you like to go over anything?”

“Not with you, Luther,” Martin had grinned. “Better tell ‘em to get in.”

They had both felt a reflex of the pleasure in the compliment as the crew scrambled rapidly out of sight. Martin had walked forward for a studious scrutiny of the girl on the nose before nodding approval, “She could fly us home with those in a pinch, Casey.”

“Well, take care of 'em, Ted.”

“ Yeah.”

They never shook hands. Martin had glanced once more at his watch, winked, and stepped briskly toward the hatch, when he had stopped and turned back, the grin gone from his face. “ Casey, keep your head with that Congress, will you?”

“Sure. Keep your feet dry, Ted.”

Now as the blurred flesh-colored blob of the girl rolled down the strip away from him, Dennis saw the young pilot’s arm flash in farewell to him. He waved back at the boy with emotion.

The plane gathered speed rapidly; in three seconds she was rolling lightly. He strained his eyes, still waving as she began to lift into the mist itself and at the last second he clearly saw a new figure and another arm suddenly flash from the left waist gate. It comforted him.

As the ascending planes diminished, Dennis had felt again the familiar weight of anxiety descending upon him. The Ground Commander, delivering buttle, can feel his way in, probing with a tentative, ordered sequence of patrols, platoons, companies, battalions. It is almost always his option to terminate the engagement if it appears unfavorable. Similarly Naval forces feel for the enemy with expendable tentacles before deliberately accepting irrevocable commitment.

But the offensive bomber force, crossing water, burns the bridges of retreat in its own gas tanks. Every maneuver of battle narrows the margin of its return. Even beyond battle itself lurk hazards of an equally final disaster. An unforeseen change of wind, a serious navigational mistake, or careless use of fuel for flight can force down an entire formation into grounded captivity.

Dennis and Martin had spent long hours with able help, weighing the Procrustean problems of wind, weather, altitude, speed, and daylight against the counterclaims of flak, fighters, and fatigue. Always the intermediate specter of disaster hovered over each beguiling illusion about the shortest distance between two points. They had emerged with a margin over which they had looked at each other in shocked silence until Martin had burst out laughing. “I’m going to take my toothbrush.”

Gradually, as Dennis listened through the gray mist, the arcs of the sound became wider and wider. Once more it came back with a slight rise of force and that time, as it began to recede, he knew it was fading with the finality of the course. He was starting into the Ops room when a last indulgence of nature rewarded his vigil.

40

FOR a fleeting second some capricious zephyr parted the mist and he had a brief view of the whole column, already miles above him. The upward angles of the early sun had caught their wings and bellies, paling the young daylight they cleft with an arching chain of iridescence.

They were still badly spread out. Ted would not waste a drop of gas to hurry the agonizing process of formation but they had taken their easterly heading. The long, loose procession spangled the sky with an arrowy scintillation through a brief and final gleam before Dennis stood alone again in the heavy mist their vibrations no longer troubled. He became aware of silence now as he had then and realized that. Mr. Malcolm was repeating a question to him.

“Are they undeh fighteh coveh today, Gennel?”

“Not all the way. Fighters will take them to here” — he indicated the final turn-back point on the map — “and another relay will pick them up here, coming out. They’ll be on their own the rest of the way.”

“An’ you sent them on youah own authority again?”

“ Yes.”

“Is theah any reason why you cain’t fin’ woythwhile tahgets undeh fighteh coveh like the otheh Gennels do?”

“These extension tanks were made to enable us to reach the most important targets in their range. We’re doing it.”

“You just sen’ ‘em regahdless of fighteh coveh?”

“I thought I’d explained. Mr. Malcolm, that our present fighters can’t reach these targets.”

“You ain’t explained why you puhsonally are the onlies’ one to sen’ 'em beyon’ fighteh coveh every lime Gennel Kane got his back turned on otheh business. Neah as I can figuah out, mo’ than half the losses of this whole Aih Ahmy come out of these heah recohd attacks fum this one Division. Lemme see that tonnage an’ sohtie chaht again, Sahgeant.”

Evans produced the chart grudgingly. He had cherished the illusion of independence for many years but he knew now that he had come to the end of it. In the Army, of all places, and to a General, of all human beings, be had come at last to the common burden of allegiance.

There was pride in it, pride that had made him whisper to himself: I bet Dennis makes him sorry he ever stuck his head out of the swamp. But there was pain in it too, the certain pain of the price Dennis would pay for this pleasure.

“I thought so,” said Malcolm. “Every otheh Division has consistently increased sohties an’ tonnages excep’ — ”

“If you’re interested in sortie and tonnage figures, Mr. Malcolm,” said Dennis, “I suggest you visit the training commands. They beat, all the operational commands combined — that is, all but the training commands in your state do.

“What are you sayin’ about my state?”

“That every airfield in it is under eighteen inches of water half the year and four to nine thousand feet of solid overcast for nine months. But every time we tried to move somewhere we could operate, the recommendations were blocked in your committee.”

Evans held his breath, but unexpectedly the open laughter of Stone and Field checked the smoldering combustion in the room long enough for Kane to intervene. “You’re straying from the subject, General. We all realize, Mr. Malcolm, that the country expects a rising scale of effort from us. We still have tomorrow to bring our monthly totals of sorties and tonnages to a new record high. It would be a great thing for public confidence if your delegation here were to make the announcement. I’m sure we can clear it with the Chief and I’m sure that Brockie here will help us with the press.”

“Are you?” asked Brockhurst pointedly.

“Of course,” said Kane.

Brockhurst subsided, but Malcolm knew appeasement when be heard it. “I’m suah that will help, Gennel. But the announcement the public is really waitin’ foh is the end of these muhderous long-range attacks. If I have anything to say about it&emdash”

“This Division’s operations are determined by military directive, Mr. Malcolm,” said Dennis.

Malcolm turned truculently on Dennis and Evans’s heart lifted. The Congressman was formidably larger than the General. One hostile gesture would justify any soldier’s defense of his superior. Evans eyed the Congressman’s crotch with an eager twitching in his heavy shoe. He had never found occasion to use all his Army education but the prospects looked promising. They were spoiled for the moment, however, by the entrance of Haley. “ Red and blue forces now approaching objectives, sir.”

41

AS always the claim of the operation swept everything else from Dennis’s mind. He had forgotten the Congressman towering above him at the first sight of Haley. “Getting any reaction?”

“Not yet, sir,” said Haley reluctantly, “but they should bomb in about two minutes and a half.”

“Gentlemen,” said Kane, “I’m going to take you down to the radar plotting and signals room myself, but you will probably understand what you’re seeing better if General Dennis gives us a quick résumé on this map first.”

Dennis made short work of explaining the problem on which he had spent most of the night. Through this his visitors followed him attentively with sensible questions. Seen as three lines on a map the problem looked simple. He omitted all mention the factors of time correlation and gas consumption.

The details of the defenses appeared equally simple. It took little experience to see how quickly German lighters could converge from either side against that center course, how relatively few were the groups on the extremities that might, with luck, be lured into wasting effort on Endicott’s and Salmond’s short stabs in from the protective vastness of their ocean approach and withdrawal courses.

“When will your Fifth Division bomb, General?” asked Field.

“About fourteen minutes now, sir.”

“And these other missions are essentially a diversion to prevent concentration of the defenses against your Division?”

“They serve two purposes,” said Kane quickly. “They are attacking important Naval objectives. But of course they will help to split the defenses.”

“Do you expect their diversionary purpose to succeed, General Dennis?” asked Stone.

“Not entirely, unless they’ve got a green controller on duty. It may help a little; it’s the best we could do.”

“Gentlemen, General Dennis will not wish to leave his office just now. If I you’ll come with me we’ll rejoin him presently,” said Kane.

It was a novelty to be forbidden his own plotting room, however subtly, but the order was unmistakable. Dennis watched them file out with a feeling of relief. But as the last of them stepped through the door and Haley began to lead them down the winding steps to the bombproof nerve center far underground, Kane lingered in the office, his aplomb collapsing in a frantic concern that ignored the presence of Evans. “Casey, for Christ’s sake be careful!”

“Sir, you promised me Fendelhorst tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow Malcolm could have us both in the Quartermaster Corps in Greenland. Is that citation ready? ”

“Yes, sir.”

“And a good lunch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And plenty to drink?”

“Why, I hadn’t thought of it, sir.

“Hadn’t thought of booze with Congressmen here? For God’s sake, start thinking — in double triples.”

He closed the door and fled after the party. Dennis allowed some of his indignation to explode into speech before he noticed Evans. “Booze! It’s a goddamned wonder he doesn’t want opium and slave girls!”

“We can start them on Benzedrine and Wacs, sir. Regular field conditions,”said Evans.

“Evans, is there plenty in the officers’ bar?”

“Not a drop, sir.”

“What?”

“End of the month, sir. Quota’s gone.”

“Nothing?”

“Local beer, sir. I suppose Congressmen would drink it but —”

“How about the Medical Officer?”

“He hasn’t been paid back for the time those Cabinet members were here, sir. He’s still dry.”

“God damn democracy!” said Dennis.

“Sir, there are the combat ration stocks.”

“They’re low, aren’t they?”

“Enough for about six missions left, sir.”

All right. These bastards, can go dry for one day. Maybe it’ll kill them.”

“Sir, General Kane ordered—”

“Damn it, Sergeant, I can’t sweat whiskey!”

Sir, just a little from 1 he combat stocks—”

“Not a drop. Now get the hell out of here.”

“I knew there was a catch in this job,” said Evans.

Dennis watched with speechless stupefaction as the Sergeant, in direct disobedience of his order, walked calmly to the Division Flag Locker, unsnapped the padlock and, reaching inside, pulled out several bottles of excellent bourbon.

“Sergeant, where on earth —”

“Present from an admirer, sir. It’s too good for the Congress but if we have to — ”

“Look here,” said I Dennis. He pulled out his wallet, grateful for an excuse to cover his emotion. “You could get. —”

“No, sir. Evans put the whiskey on the map table and shook his head with finality at the money. Then, a little hesitantly he spoke again. “ I’d like one thing for it, sir.”

“What?”

“To shake your hand.”

Dennis extended a hand with the feeling that this transaction was becoming more improper every minute and a scandalized realization that he did not give a damn. “What’s this for, Sergeant ?”

“For telling that servant of the people what a son of a bitch he is,” said Evans.

“Oh. Well, gel some glasses and water.”

But as he reached the door Evans heard the General’s voice again. For the first time in his recollection it was not entirely steady.

“Sergeant, I appreciate this.”

“Well, sir, I’d hate — breaking in a new General.”

42

HALEY, returning from the hole, found Dennis staring at the whiskey on the map table with a warmth in his face the Colonel had never seen.

“ Well ? ”

“Not a blip, sir. The Krauts are wise today. I’m afraid Ted’s getting the whole dose.”

“Nothing from him yet, of course?”

“He’s not due for eleven minutes, sir. General Kane is showing his visitors around downstairs. I have some figures.”

They were deep in arithmetic at the hoard when Garnett hurried into the office. “Casey, the Old Man says for God’s sake ”

“Just a minute, Cliff. Hurry up, Haley.”

“—and twenty-six of yesterday’s battle damage — ”

Watching the concentration with which Dennis agonized over every detail, Garnett wondered now how he could ever have envied him. Kane’s original choice between them had bitterly disappointed Garnett. At the time it had been the best Air Command in the war for a Brigadier, and the whole service knew it.

Duty with the United Chiefs, however, had brought Garnett compensations. There had been time to study and analyze the global war. He had lived with invaluable foreknowledge of what was going to happen. Now, with momentous B-29 Commands on the near horizon, Garnett could bless the decision that had fixed Dennis so firmly here and left himself in a position of unique advantage for the last skirmishing for bigger prizes.

The specter of German jets, overhanging the already precarious position of this Command, accentuated Garnett’s gratitude for his personal detachment from it. He understood the gravity of the threat and he admired the courage of Dennis’s response to it. But Garnett had seen enough of the highest echelons to know that they required more than courage from subordinate Commanders. In the military world, as elsewhere, men sought and cherished subordinates whose successes seemed to reflect the brighter gleams of a favorable fortune.

Success with the countermeasure of Stitch would be an invisible success, won at gruesome cost. Failure would discredit American Air Power in this theater, dislocate the timetable, possibly reverse Global Strategy. For there was powerful opinion that the B-29’s, under the right Command, could be decisive in the Pacific.

— so we should be able to count on a margin of thirty-eight.”

“Thanks,”said Dennis. “Send Davis with the noon map.”

As Haley scuttled out, Dennis apologized to Garnett. “Sorry, Cliff. I had to get a reading on tomorrow before that traveling circus gets back in here.”

“The Old Man wants you to be more careful with the visiting Elks. Between ourselves, he’s scared, Casey.’

Dennis looked more sad than contemptuous. “A man who’s held altitude records, scared of Congressmen!”

“Confidentially, Casey, he knows he’s pretty close to that third star.”

“I wonder if that’s where it sets in?” Dennis smiled. “Let me know, will you?”

“You’ll be likelier to let me know, with your record.”

“Don’t kid me,” said Dennis. “Haven’t you got one of those B-29 jobs sewed up?”

Garnett managed a deprecatory laugh. “I thought so till I suddenly got shunted over here without: explanation. Of course it’s only an observation tour but some of that Washington competition is pretty rough. You’re well out of it, Casey.”

This time Garnett could see that Dennis was trying to cover a smile. It served him right. There was no use beating around the bush with a man who knew this business as well as he did. “Listen, old man, did Ted speak to you about this?”

“No.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt ray chances a bit if the Chief knew Ted would like to be my Chief of Staff out there.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“Casey, it isn’t proselytizing when a guy’s your own brother-in-law. It isn’t your fault, but we both know you’ll never be able to give him more than Eagles in this job.”

“What can you give him?”

“One star immediately. And the Pacific looks like a long war.”

“Did he know this last night?”

“Yes.”

Garnett watched while Dennis looked first at his watch and then intently at the map.

“I wish I had.”

“I realize it was unorthodox of me to speak to him first but you know yourself you have to handle Ted with kid gloves.”

Dennis appeared to be thinking this over for so long that Garnett was on the verge of elaborating when the reply came.

“ Cliff, just don’t try to handle him. He does that fine.”

“You mean it’s all right? I can have him?”

“For that job? Of course.”

“And you’ll persuade him?”

“Yes.”

“Casey, if you knew what this means to me —”

“Save it, Cliff. I’m not doing it for you.”

Garnett gulped and recovered fast, There was no rancor in the reply but Dennis had withdrawn into his shell.

“You don’t understand. I’m thanking you for Ted, old man.”

“I’m not doing it for him entirely. Those B-29’s need Ted.”

“Don’t worry, Casey, we’ll make 'em sing. After the example you fellows have given us over here —”

The return of Haley and Davis with the weather map disembarrassed Dennis, At first sighl of them he forgot everything else, He had spread the map on the table and was already scrutinizing it before he spoke again. “Well?”

“The mass is denser but that’s slowing it up, sir. It’s eighty-four miles behind expected drift now.”

“How much longer will that give us?”

“The Continent will be cavu all day, sir. But at present drift this will start closing the bases in by 1500.”

“How would that fit, Haley?”

“Lacks about twenty minutes, sir.”

Dennis nodded and walked a slow circle around the room, deep in thought. Garnett glanced at the map. “Can’t you just start them that much earlier?”

Dennis did not answer. Haley coughed apologetically.

“It would mean forming in the dark, with that gas and bomb load. We have observed that sometimes early collisions have a demoralizing effect upon a whole mission, sir.”

Dennis came back to the table, still oblivious of Garnett, “ But even by 1600 they could clearly see where the Island is —from, say, fifteen thousand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Davis. “It’ll stack up over the Island like froth on a beer till it cools enough to move on. That’s the trouble.”

“Bring me the 1400 map as soon as it’s done and anything special as it comes. Haley, wait a minute.”

Dennis waited until the door closed on Davis.

“Have every spare parachute in the Division repacked this afternoon. Tonight repack enough from the Groups till you can fill out with fresh packs tomorrow.”

Garnett saw Haley stiffen with the impact of the order but his discipline did not fail him. He replied with a steady “Yes, sir,” and left the room at once.

“Casey, what are you thinking of?”

“Paratroops do it.”

“But the planes — ”

“They’re expendable, Cliff.”

“A whole Division for one-target?”

“All they’re made for is to hit the right targets.”

“But have you thought what they’ll say in Washington ?”

“I’m thinking what they’ll say in Berlin. They count on weather like this.

43

BROCKHURST, entering just then, could not be sure whether he saw or only wished to see that Garnett was staring at Dennis with an awed respect. He decided that it was imagination. It was the essence of the whole ghastly tragedy that none of the little men whom the accidents of rank had placed around Dennis ever would understand him. In all fairness Brockhurst had to acknowledge that only yesterday he himself had thought Dennis a blundering butcher.

“General Garnett, General Kane asked me to ask you if you would come down to the hole at once.”

He watched Garnett spring for the door with the instinctive, unthinking obedience that was at once the strength and the ruin of the service, Dennis put on the formality with which he always shielded himself from strangers. “Did General Kane want me? ”

“No,” said Brockhurst, “nor me either. That’s the point.”

He had hoped to invite curiosity and through it a moment of intimacy for personal amends, but the next remark showed him what he should have known: Dennis did not rise to civilian innuendoes.

“Did he tell you to loaf in here?”

“General, I owe you a personal apology.”

“These are my working hours, Mr. Brockhurst.”

“You see, General Kane has double-crossed me.”

“Please take your grievance against my boss to him.”

“But that’s not what’s important, He’s doublecrossing you.”

“You’re speaking of my superior, Mr. Brockhurst.”

“He’s ordering a recall signal on your mission.”

This did shake that stony impassivity. Dennis glanced at his watch and then at the map, but his lips remained locked.

“I know it’s too late to save losses,” said Brockhurst. “They’re probably fighting now. But it puts Kane on record. What happens now is your rap.”

“And my business,” said Dennis evenly.

“It’s the country’s business, if the country could know. He’s sacrificing the whole operation, taking ihc losses without getting the result — just from fear.”

“Commanders have to fear losses, Mr. Brockhurst.”

Momentarily Dennis had become more responsive than the correspondent had ever known him. But the armor of his uniform still seemed impenetrable.

“He isn’t afraid of losses and you know it. He isn’t afraid of Germany or Washington or even those goddamned Congressmen. There’s only one thing in the world Kane is afraid of now and that’s you.”

“Me?” At least the surprise was genuine.

“You. Because you’re doing what’s right and Kane has lived long enough to know that someone always pays a hell of a price for that.”

“The boys are paying that, Mr. Brockhurst.”

“Not all of it. Kane’s got you framed like a picture.”

Dennis spoke patiently, as if to a troublesome child. “You don’t understand the Army.”

“It’s only people in uniform. I understand people.”

“No it isn’t. People only shout for soldiers after they’ve blundered themselves into danger they can’t cope with as people. Then they accept the uniform.”

“Nuts. Even military decisions have to be made on the opinions of men. When you know yours are right —”

“It’s your duty to persuade your superior as forcibly as you can. After that it’s your duty to execute his decision.”

“Even when you know he’s shirking the decision?”

“You don’t know it. He may be acting on information you don’t have. This whole bombardment program may be only a diversion or holding attack in the higher strategy. I’m paid to serve General Kane; others are paid to judge him.”

“You have faith they’re better at the top?”

“We keep Chaplains for questions of faith, Mr. Brockhurst.”

“You keep everything; you’ve got it all taped, haven’t you? Yourown Chaplains, Judge Advocates, food, pay, promotion, decoration, and unlimited free coffins. You’ve made a separate world out of it with everything a man — ”

“Everything but freedom,” Dennis smiled wryly now, “bul I’ve read, in your press, that we’re fighting for that.”

“And your personal part in this?”

“Is very simple. Life without freedom is. I am responsible to make this Command inflict maximum injury on the enemy, within orders.”

“And when the orders are deliberately ambiguous?”

“Your superior may be receiving the same kind.”

Brockhurst nodded wearily. “Okay, General, you get a hundred on the rules. But don’t ask me to think you believe in them against everything in reason.”

“That’s what war is, Mr. Brockhurst. If we win, reason may get another chance.”

The teleprinter in the next room burst into frenzied clattering now and its first accents claimed Dennis with instant reversion to the harsh reality of the mission.

Brockhurst watched him disappear through the door. He realized, as he knew Dennis had, that Kane’s recall signal to the mission marked a turning point. Up to then the Senior Commander had, at least negatively, countenanced Dennis’s course of action. Now he had made mechanical preparation for an adroit jettison. It was plain premeditated dissociation from the risk he had permitted Dennis to take.

Yet Brockhurst knew now that the fate of Dennis was only a fragment, a shadow, of the larger catastrophe he was witnessing. Dennis himself was safely beyond pity. Brockhurst’s brief glimpse inside the uniform had shown him a man who could carry himself, as he carried his convictions, inviolable through momentary changes of fortune.

The darker tragedy hid behind the form of Dennis, behind the Army itself. The Army was only the projected form of a deeper malignance. It had been created as a shield against a more highly developed tyranny than its own; it would survive by a superior ferocity.

It was futile to pity Dennis, to hate Kane, to rage at his own helplessness in the face of the Army’s stupidity and venality; they were all manifestations of what had made them. It was not the weaknesses, the faults, the mistakes of armies; it was their existence that proclaimed the tragedy of mankind.

44

As General Kane’s party returned from the hole Malcolm paused on the threshold of the door, pointing like a bird dog, while a beaming, beatific grin overspread ins heavy face. “Drinkin’ whiskey fum Gawd’s own country!”

He hurried to the bar which Evans had improvised out of the map table, and raised a bottle for inspection. “Gennel Kane, I declah youah a min’ readeh. Wheah in the worl’ did you get this oveh heah?”

Kane hesitated but Evans did not. “It was a present to General Dennis from an admirer, sir.”

Brockhurst noticed the whiskey for the first time now. A rueful grin softened his face. “Yes, Sergeant, it is,” he said.

The others thronged forward to it eagerly. Kane made the most of the prevailing satisfaction to report to Dennis what he had done, covering his evident sense of unease with formality. “General, as you know, I pride myself on never interfering with normal operations. But today’s diversions were so obviously unsuccessful that I felt it my duty to signal Colonel Martin discretion to abandon his primary objective for a target of opportunity under fighter cover if he chose.”

“Did you get a reply, sir?” asked Dennis evenly,

“ Not yet. He’s probably preserving radio silence.”

Prescott appeared now with a glass for Kane. Over by the bar Brockhurst was watching with amusement the completion of a cycle. For, intent as they were upon the whiskey, the Congressmen had not allowed it to eclipse their own horizons. Discovering Evans no longer in mute attendance upon Kane, they had turned to the earnest courtship of the potential voter in the Sergeant’s bemedated blouse.

“An’ may I ask which of ouah great states has the honoh of producin’ a man whose country has rewahded him with medals like them?” inquired Malcolm.

“You can but I’d rather not say,”said Evans.

“Not say? You mean you ain’t proud of youah home state?”

“I wasn’t till I saw what some of the others put out.”

”I declah! Gennel, youah Sahgen’s not only a hero: he’s a wit. Come on, tell us wheah you fum, son.”

“If I did you’d quit sucking around for my next vote.”

Dennis looked at his watch.

“General Kane, we’ve had relays from General Endicott and General Salmond. Both report their targets successfully attacked.”

“Gentlemen,”said Kane hastily. “We have had very gratifying strike reports from the other missions. To two very successful attacks.”

He raised his glass and the others joined him heartily. Malcolm handed his back to Evans with careful instructions for refilling it, before he turned on Dennis. “You don’t drink to youah colleagues’ success, Gennel ?”

“I’m waiting to drink to the whole Operation. Did you enjoy the hole, gentlemen?”

“I was fascinated but I was bewildered, too,” said Field.

“It was impressive but too much for the layman,” said Stone.

“They wasn’t nothin’ to it but them girls at the tables movin’ little pieces of cahdboahd an’ them damn shoht-circuit spahks on the screen an’ the whole place coldeh than Chris’mas.” Malcolm shivered and took more whiskey in a long gulp.

Brockhurst saw both Dennis and Kane look at their watches now. Even through his modest share of his own whiskey he could feel tension tightening in the room. He saw Dennis start, visibly, as the teleprinter suddenly began to clatter again in the Ops room, but Stone had pinned the Brigadier down now with earnest questioning.

“But we did understand, correctly, that the main purpose of these other attacks was diversionary?”

“They were very important Naval objectives,” said Kane quickly. “Of course we did hope to split the enemy fighters.”

“And you considered that hope had failed, General?”

Kane hesitated perceptibly. “You can’t be certain. But the screen is reasonably accurate at that range and the technicians identified no fighters. What do you think, General?”

“The other strike signals would have mentioned any significant scale of fighting, sir.”

“So you had to assume, in fact, that the main enemy forces are free to strike our central attack?”

“We had to assume it to begin with, sir,” said Dennis, “The diversions were only a hope — the best we could do but still a hope.”

“Well,” persisted Stone, “if the main force had already gone so far —”

“You mean been sent so fah,”said Malcolm. He had brought his glass over to join the argument now and his voice had taken on truculence with the whiskey, “An’ it had been sent by Gennel Dennis when he knew his own self that his divehsions probably wouldn’t succeed. Am I not correct, Gennel?”

“You are.”

45

HALEY appeared in the doorway with teleprint paper in his hand, “Liaison message from an RAF recce plane, sir.”

“Read it.”

Haley lifted the paper and read aloud, his flat unemotional accents falling like stones into the silence.

“‘Twelve hundred thirty-nine sighted large formation of USAAF Boeings approx ten forty east fifty forty north, altitude twenty-two thousand, heading ninety-eight&emdash’”

“Ninety-eight!” exclaimed Kane. “He’s still going into Germany! ”

Haley waited but no one spoke. He resumed.

“Unescorted under heavy attack, formations good over.’ That’s all, sir.”

He executed a sharp about-face and closed the door behind him, muffling a little the teleprinter, which had begun to clatter again. The men looked at each other blankly. Dennis lifted an eye from his wrist watch for a long look at the map. It was Malcolm who broke the silence. Liquor was dissolving the thin restraint over his natural volatility; he sounded nearly hysterical.

“Unescohted an’ undeh heavy attack. Gennel Kane, I’m wahnin’ you if you eveh let Gennel Dennis&emdash”

“Aaathur, you better shut up,” said Stone.

“I agree. If they think it’s necessary—said Field.

“Necessary! To slaughteh American youth foh one pigheaded Brigadieh—”

He was walking toward Dennis. Evans quietly stepped to the side of the table, his foot itching hopefully again, when, unconsciously, they all froze with the cessation of sound from the teleprinter, the quick rasp of tearing paper, and then the approaching beat of Haley’s fed. Entering, he looked uncertainly at Dennis.

“Message for you, sir.”

“From Ted?”

“Not exactly, sir. Gould you step out here?”

Dennis started for the door but Malcolm blocked him. “No you don’t neitheh. You don’t play no backroom games on me. Weah heah representin’ the whole people an’ I’m goin’ to heah the whole story.”

“Colonel, read the message aloud,” barked Kane hastily.

Haley stepped through the door and read as unemotionally as before. “’Relay on administrative cable from Message Center London for Colonel Edward Martin in clear. New co-pilot made first successful landing four fourteen this morning. Everything fine. Helen.’ There is no ‘over,’ sir, but they sometimes omit it on administrative messages,” said Haley apologetically.

brockhurst saw the strain in Dennis’s face break into tht’ lirst elation be had ever seen there.

“Jesus! Ted’s got a son.” He strode over to Garlett and extended a hand, his smile still widening. “Congratulations, l nole!”

The Congressmen reacted to the news with a unanimous and purposeful convergence upon the bar. Prescott brought Kane another drink and even Haley unbent for comment. “1 imagine the Colonel and Mrs. Martin will be pleased.”

“Gentlemen,”said Kane. “Colonel Martin’s son.”

The others raised their glasses. Dennis spoke quietly to Haley. “Get a copy ready to relay to Ted in the clear, Haley.”

“It’s being done, sir.”

“But don’t send it till we hear.”

“No, sir.”

“Till you heah what?” demanded Malcolm.

“His strike flash. It’s due very soon now.”

“You tellin’ me this Cunnel out theah leadin’ the attack been bohn a daddy an’ you ain’t even goin’ to tell him?”

“He needs his mind on bis work now.”

“Gennel Kane, this the mos’ inhuman thing—”

But to Evans’s continuing disappointment Kane himself now appeared to be disgusted with the Congressman; his answer was short, “General Dennis is right. Colonel Martin must have gone ahead, on his own judgment, of course. How long do you make it now, General?”

“Seven if we’re right on the wind, sir.”

Kane nodded and summoned a conciliatory smile for the Congressmen. “ Fortunately, gentlemen, war also has its pleasant duties. We have just time for one of them now. General Dennis, will you ask for your Adjutant and Captain Jenks?”

Brockhurst thought for a second that Dennis might refuse. For the briefest perceptible interval he appeared to be considering whether or not to obey. Then habit won. He turned swiftly to the Operations room. As he did Evans left the bur and stuck his head into the anteroom.

“Let’s go,”boys, he said.

46

IN response to Evans’s request there now appeared from the anteroom three stalwart young soldiers. They were heavily armed with cameras and they swaggered with the arrogance men always take from the possession of significant weapons. Congressmen and officers alike made way for them and stood uneasily, adjusting blouses and lies, moving forward or back, meekly eying lenses and flashlight bulbs and the businesslike preparations of the young men.

In through the other door the Adjutant strutted with a sheaf of papers and a little box. Behind him, still sullen but clean-shaven now and clad in a beribboned blouse and freshly pressed pinks came Captain Jenks. He hesitated for one nervous glance at Dennis but the Brigadier had stepped quietly into the background and did not speak.

The Adjutant arranged himself and Jenks before Kane, who had taken up a position with both eyes studying the cameramen. The Congressmen maneuvered themselves into a happy position, facing the lenses through the opening between Jenks and Kane.

“Is everything —" queried Kane sharply.

“You’re okay, General. Just pull that blouse down a little,” said the head cameraman.

Kane smoothed the blouse about his hips, shot a quick glance around him, and cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, few experiences in life are more gratifying than according proper recognition to a man who has fought for his country. Will Captain Jenks please step forward?”

Captain Jenks did. The soldiers raised their cameras, the room quieted with an expectant hush, and the Adjutant began to read from the paper in his hand.

“Captain Lucius Malcolm Jenks for outstandingly meritorious and heroic, achievement —”

“Excuse me, General,”interrupted Evans.

“What?” Kane regarded the Sergeant with impatience.

“Would the gentlemen from Congress like to put their glasses over here before the boys start photographing?”

The gentlemen from Congress looked at their glasses as if they held snakes, before marching solemnly around to deposit them on the map table. The camera detail now made ostentatious motions to assure the whole company that no lens would record the spectacle of that table.

As the Congressmen returned to their positions Malcolm stopped, with a chuckle, and clapped Evans on the back. “You goin’ a long way in life, boy.”

Stone and Field muttered a somewhat more subdued gratitude and followed Malcolm toward the perspective of the lenses. The Adjutant surveyed them all with an expression of pain and began again.

Brockhurst did not follow the details of the citation. His first perceptive glance between Jenks and that little box in the Adjutant’s hand had filled in the last piece of the puzzle. He knew now how Dennis had done it. Briefly there stirred in him a hope that Dennis had extracted a promise of personal protection for himself as part of this diabolical bargain. His second thought rejected the idea.

A man who had been thinking of himself would not have driven the bargain. Dennis had been safe before, safe behind military secrecy, safe in the bland, self-protecting unity of the services that would have explained away disaster by jets as calmly as they had explained away Pearl Harbor.

Brockhurst watched him now, standing with silent composure through the enormity of this citation. Twice during the reading he saw Dennis glance briefly at his watch before returning his inscrutable, fixed stare toward the map. Not a flicker of feeling showed on his face as the Adjutant came to the end of his fulsome rounded periods.

“— thereby reflecting great credit upon Captain Jenks and the Army Air Forces, in consideration of which and for his example, achievements, and contributions to the advancement of American Aerial Bombardment, Captain Jenks is hereby awarded—”

Kane lifted that famous jaw a trifle, glanced once more toward the cameras, and then, accepting the medal from the Adjutant, pinned it upon Jenks. An explosion of flashlight bulbs dazzled the room. Malcolm burst from the formation of Congressmen, threw his arms around his nephew, and accosted Kane eagerly. “By Cod, Gennel, this the proudes’ moment of ouah lives. Do you reakon—”

“Of course,” said Kane. “You have plenty of film, boys?”

“Plenty. You better get a little closer, General.”

The trio arranged themselves, Kane centered between the other two, and clasped their hands for a new barrage.

“You gettin’ this. Elmeh, boy?” asked Malcolm.

“I’m beginning to get it,” said Brockhurst.

They posed twice more before Kane’s roving, restless eyes noticed the other two Congressmen standing quietly together away from the cameras. He hurried over to them.

“Gentlemen, no one of our great states has a monoply on bravery. This Command has personnel drawn from every state in the Union. It is my hope, and intention, that before you leave here each one of you may participate in one of these ceremonies.”

The Congressmen kept their faces straight.

“Well, General,” said Stone, “if one of our boys should happen —”

“These things mean a lot to morale on the home front,” said Field.

“You may rest assured, gentlemen —”

Malcolm had led Jenks to the bar. He broke in loudly now holding up a tumbler half full of whiskey.

“Gentlemen, a toas’ to the boy who led his Squadron —”

He stopped, as the whole room stopped in every motion, frozen by the sibylline clatter of the teleprinter. There was the rasp of tearing paper, and again Haley was at the door handing an inch-wide strip of paper to Dennis. The Brigadier looked at it intently for several seconds before reading aloud: —

“‘No mistake this time. Scratch Schweinhafen for me. red.”’

For a second more Dennis stared at it silently and then, before their eyes, seemed to explode with exultation.

“Jesus, Haley, he got it — he got it — HE GOT IT!”

“Yes, sir,” said Haley, “Colonel Martin is a very determined man.”

47

THROUGHOUT the whole room now the tension broke into a tumult of happy chatter. The others crowded forward for a look at the paper itself.

“Signal him about his kid, Haley.”

“It’s going out, sir.”

Garnett raised a glass, his face jubilant and glowing with pride. “Gentlemen, the greatest combat leader in the Army Air Forces. Fill ‘em up.”

Only Malcolm seemed unaffected by die general elation. He was standing by Jenks at the bar, still holding the glass he had raised in abortive toast to his nephew, and his voice was petulant.

“Gennel, was this heah Schweinhafen any fahtheh than my nephew ‘s mission to Posenleben?”

Kane hesitated. “Well, perhaps a liitle further in miles —”

But Prescott had seen the General’s embarrassment. “Sir, I don’t like to delay the toasts but Colonel Marlin has asked us to scratch Schweinhafen for him. It occurs to me that while the photographers are here —”

He proffered a piece of red crayon. Kane seized it and strode happily toward the map while the photographers took up new positions. Then, as he was raising his arm. Kane caught himself.

“Gentlemen, it would be a great thing for public confidence —”

The last of his invitation was drowned in the stampede as the Congressmen swarmed to him now, straightening ties and putting down glasses, Prescott was maneuvering them into position, when through the half-open door they heard a muffled “Christ!” in Haley’s heavy voice. His face was streaming tears as he walked in and handed another inch of paper to Dennis.

Dennis took one look; then the paper fell from his hand and he stepped away from the others, turning his back on them. It was Garnett who picked it up and made himself read aloud: —”

“‘Good luck, Casey. We’re on fire and going

He stopped, staring at it slrickenly. Only Malcolm could not stand the silence; his heavy panting burst into a scream.

“Goin’? Goin’ wheah? Finish it, cain’t you?”

“That’s all there is.”

“Awll? Awll?”

They saw hysteria possess him but no one could stir as he walked over and whirled Dennis angrily around by the shoulder. “You mean to tell me he’s—”

“Shut up!”

“Shut up? You standin’ theah an’ tellin’ me to shut up afteh you’ve done kilt —”

Evans had started for him but not fast enough. They scarcely saw Dennis move but the impact of his fist thudded. Malcolm lifted as if in slow motion and collapsed over backward with a resounding crash. As he hit the floor the whiskey in his hand spilled over him, darkening the lavender shirt with a widening ring of stain. He did not stir. Slowly the glass rolled off him and came to rest gently on the floor beside his unconscious body.

The others stared dazedly but Evans snatched a camera. Training it on the prostrate Malcolm he addressed Dennis quietly. “You want a picture of the battle damage, sir?”

His voice broke the tension. Kane stepped over to Evans, grabbed the camera, and smashed it on the floor. He had opened his mouth to speak when the clatter of the teleprinter began to echo through the room again. Kane waited, his mouth hanging open. Dennis was staring down at the Congressman, face impassive as ever, His figure relaxed and steady. Brockhurst noticed a little trickle of blood coming out of the Brigadier’s hand. Looking more closely he saw with surprise the end of a pair of regulation pilot’s wings protruding from the clenched fist.

The teleprinter stopped and all eyes turned with conscious dread toward the sound of the tearing paper and approaching feet. This time Haley walked the message straight to General Kane. “Top Secret relay from Washington for you, sir.”

Kane read it, gulped, and gathered himself slowly. “I’m sorry about this, Casey.”

Dennis did not answer. He had lifted his eyes from Malcolm to the map and was staring at if oblivious of everything else. Kane walked over to him, and commanding his attention, read aloud: “‘With immediate effect you will replace Brigadier General K. C. Dennis, Commanding Fifth Bombardment Division, Heavy, with Brigadier General Clifton C. Garnett, returning General Dennis Washington most expeditious means of transportation.’ ”

Dennis still showed no sign of having heard it. His eyes were fixed on the map. A drop of blood fell from the cut in his palm. Kane took another long look at him and placed an arm around his shoulder. “Casey, I’m going to recommend you for the Legion of Merit.”

48

ELMER BROCKHURST drove out the gate of the Fifth Division early that afternoon with a deeper emotion than he had brought there. He had come the day before with his eye on a story; his heart had been high with hope that he might help the boys, the Army, by protecting them from the ruthlessness of General Dennis.

He had remained to learn a new humility, to end his visit with an effort to protect General Dennis from the Army. His new humility knew that he had been only partially successful. With the support of Field and Stone, he had made Malcolm apologize to Dennis. Beyond that he had warned Malcolm against further persecution of Dennis. He had spoken with the power of the press and he knew that Malcolm understood, as Kane had understood and heeded Brockhurst’s blunt insistence that the party should leave the station at once.

Against such men the power of the press was effective; for Dennis it was only a trifling, mechanical assistance — the most that Brockhurst or any civilian could now give. For armies and soldiers, as he had known in his heart, could not be helped, even against their own blindness, the blindness that could waste a man like Dennis. Never before had Brockhurst so entirely comprehended that war is waste, that armies are beyond help.

They are conceived in the failure of human beings to help each other. He was one of those human beings. Like the rest, he could not help now. He could only wait until, in their own way, the armies had produced a peace in which men might try again.

Evans entered the office that evening smoldering with a rage that fed on its own futility. Until that moment there had been work, more than enough work in which to hide his thoughts and feelings. For the Army is an exoruble continuity in which the death or transfer of one man is the beginning for another in a structure designed to survive mortality. In the processes which exist to preclude thought, there had been for all of them, throughout the afternoon, a refuge from thought. Now Evans was face to face with it.

Walking to the desk, he removed General Dennis’s name plate and replaced it with the new one. Its surfaces were still damp with oiling. The charry smell of the burning iron still emanated trom the letters that spelled Garnett’s name.

Evans put the coffee to boil and then, by habit, looked at his watch. There probably wasn’t time but he did not care whether he got caught tonight or not. The mechanics of lighting a cigar would prolong his respite from reality a few seconds. He took out the cigar box and then burst into blasphemy at the last barren evidence of the Congressional visit. The box was empty. He threw it into the stove and sat down, cornered by the emotions he had been dodging.

Only once before in uniform had he known anything like the sickening finality of this ending. That had been the night his crew broke up after its last mission. Then, however, there had been the incredible realization of survival, the realization that he could now look upon the future as a man with a stake in it, with certain relation to everything in the world which he would continue to inhabit.

This time he wanted to get away from the future, but it had him fast. It had him because he was alive again and he was learning that to live is to suffer. He realized now that throughout his entire tour of duty and for some time afterward he had not truly been alive. He had merely functioned mechanically through an existence in which there was no hope, no despair, no feeling whatever. He had understood the odds and had not expected to survive. His existence had been a long blur, punctuated by clearheaded attention to duty and appetites, with all other feeling narcotized by the assumption of a cynical indifference toward a world in which he no longer had a stake.

This numbness had persisted into the early stages of his duty with General Dennis. Indeed the first evidence of its thawing had been the sense of concern he had felt over Brockhurst’s prophecy that the General would be fired. From that reawakening Evans had passed, in the last twenty-four hours, through the rebirth in himself of an intense, affectionate allegiance. The evidence of Dennis’s guts, his selflessness, his inflexible determination in sane purpose had restored Evans again to emotion. By degrees he had come from amusement to a passionate sympathy and partisanship. Through Dennis he had touched again a high aspiration. With him he had known once more hope and fear, doubt, indignation, triumph, suspense, strife. For him he now felt the bottomless despair of the frustrate fury with which he regarded everything around him. He had regained the world but it was the world of the Army.

Only later, much later, would it occur to a reawakened Evans that it was not the world of the Army. It was the world the Army had taken in involuntary receivership from the moral and spiritual bankruptcy of its people. It was the world of men like himself who had dodged the draft until danger was on them, of Malcolm and Jenks plotting political profit in the ruins, of Stone and Field dimly perceiving the trouble but impotent to cope with it, of Brockhurst selling the Army’s secrecy for news copy as all men everywhere now sold it supplies for a living.

49

EVANS would ponder these things later; his reawakening was deep but, like all birth, shrouded in pain. For the present he knew only that he was still in the Army. He would have to deal with this trouble in the Army’s way. His immediate desire was to get as far from here as he could. He intended to put his new Commander in Ids place at once and keep him there until the inevitable day when he could tell him to kiss a civilian’s ass for a change.

The opening of the door brought him to his feet. He thought Garnett looked better in a woolen shirt. He had either shed some of his pomposity with that well-tailored blouse or the weight of the job was already squeezing it out of him. He was manifestly still nervous but Evans had learned to tolerate this in green Commanders, “Coffee’s almost ready, sir,” he said.

“I didn’t order coffee,” said Garnett.

“ You will, sir.”

Garnett visibly cheeked a retort and sniffed the air before replying. The familiar smell relaxed him a little. “Oh, very well, Sergeant.”

He went over to his desk now and Evans could see him taking on confidence from the sight of the new name plate. “Everything in order here, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir. Benzedrine in top right drawer.”

“Oh, Sergeant, can you get sleeping tablets here?”

“I’ll see, sir. And you need cigars and whiskey.”

“I almost never use them.”

“It’s expected of you, sir.”

“By whom?”

“People who do. They’re standard equipment for Brigadiers in this theater, sir.”

Evans did not care what his successor had to smoke or drink but he intended to have no nonsense from Garnett and it was well to begin firmly. Garnett hesitated, manifestly considering the same problem of a firm beginning, but Evans won as he had known he would.

“Oh. Thank you, Sergeant. I guess you and I are going to be together for some time, Evans. Can you suggest, anything else that I need?”

“You need a new Sergeant, sir,” said Evans.

“Oh. Oh, of course. You’re going with General Dennis ? ”

“No, sir, he won’t take me.” Evans knew he was saying too much but the anger inside him forced the words out. “He says they use Colonels for errand boys in Washington. I’m going to China.”

Garnett digested this slowly before his face darkened. “So you’re going to China? You sound as if this war’s a Cook’s tour. What do you think this Army is, anyway. Sergeant?”

“ I’d rather not answer that question, sir. But I’ve done my twenty-five here. I’m entitled to rotation and War Department Circular six nine five three eight dash seven one says applications for the Fortieth Air Army from graduate gunners of this theater will be accepted. The circular and my papers are on your desk, sir.”

“Oh.”Garnett realized that he was whipped. He began to perceive that the loss of Evans would save him many such whippings.

“Well, of course, if the circular authorizes it — can you get me a good man for duty in here?”

“I’ve been training one, sir: an excellent man.”

“Good. I’ll talk to him later. I hope he’s as capable as you are, Evans.”

“So do I, sir. Does the General need anything else? ”

“Ask Colonel Haley to step in.”

Like Evans, Garnett did not want to be alone. He, too, knew that sooner or later he would have to think of the things that had happened, He would even have to think of how and why they had happened. He jumped from the desk now and circled the room angrily, averting his eyes from the Swastika-shaped fighter cross as he went. It was folly, madness to try to think such things through. Poor Casey himself was an example of a man who had thought too much.

There were times and places for it but this was not either. On a Staff a man could afford to think; he was expected to. Around him there was always the balance of other men, the weighing of opinion, the checking over every detail before thought went upward for the pen stroke that made it command.

Here he was Command. The Army had provided him with a Staff to think for him on every foreseeable category of human affairs. The obvious problems of life had been precalculaled, their conduct codified into Regulations that existed to forestall thought and to obviate the human differences in it. Even the unforeseeable dilemmas of the war itself had been divided and parceled out into directives. His own were tidily packaged in the thick folder Casey had turned over to him this afternoon. He was not here to think. He was here to execute those directives. He walked over and touched the folder itself for reassurance.

50

You sent for me, sir?” asked Haley from the door.

“Good evening, Haley. Any messages?”

“General Endirott and General Salmond have sent their compliments and will await your decision before planning tomorrow’s mission, sir.”

It was there, in his face, before he even had time to consider it thoughtfully. He clutched the directive folder and wondered if Haley’s imperturbable stare could see the uncertainly inside him.

“Is there anything from General Kane?”

“No, sir.”

“I suppose, on a tricky reading, he might wait for 2000 weather developments?”

“He might, sir.”

The man’s impassivity was maddening. “Well, we haven’t got oar 2000 weather yet.”

“Davis is marking the map, sir. If you’d like to speak to him immediately —”

“No, no. Have you final figures from today yet?”

“Posted, sir,” said Haley and led the way to the board. In this, too, there was respite. Garnett tried to follow closely but Haley went rapidly, too rapidly, through the details; he found himself missing the significance of it in his dread of the end.

“Thirty-nine lost and four in the Channel and — what’s this?”

“Category E, sir. Fourteen damaged beyond economical repair.”

“So we really lost fifty-seven today?”

“We salvage the crews from those Category E’s, sir.”

Garnett had a sudden vision of the landing he had seen that afternoon. There had been no crashes today but he was remembering the wav the ambulances backed up to the waist gates and the way the men had climbed out afterward, lowering their feel slowly as if they did not expect them to reach the ground.

“Do we fly those Category E crews tomorrow?”

“All but the wounded, sir. We need them.”

Haley turned from the board with finality and waited, his face expectant. Time was passing.

“I don’t see how they take it,” said Garnett. “What about morale, Haley?”

“There’s been no report of trouble, sir.”

Garnett remembered without joy that he would be eating three meals a day with this man through an indefinite future. But the prospect of having Haley leave the room now seemed worse. He smiled. “Haley, we’re going to be together a long time, I hope. It would make life simpler if you’d call me Cliff.”

“Very well, sir — Cliff.”

“What do these crews really think about?”

“Their twenty-fifth mission, sir.”

“Of course, but what else?”

Haley cogitated. “The normal things, sir, and promotion and decoration, too.”

“ By the normal things you mean —” He risked a wider smile and this time it was rewarded by a decorous counterpart from his Chief of Staff.

“Yes, sir. Fortunately the villages are full of it.”

“I should think it would lead to trouble.”

But the smile was gone now. Haley considered his answer for Accuracy and Completeness, “Just the normal kinds, sir. These women have been at war a longtime. They know the men have to be back for missions.”

“Is this — immorality very widespread?”

“Very, sir,” said Haley. “If it wasn’t for the accent you couldn’t tell ‘em from Americans.”

Garnett knew that they were coming to the end of this and he could feel the pressure of the questions that lay beyond; again he fought them off.

“So that kind of morale takes care of itself?”

“Yes, sir. Keeps down perversion, too,” said Haley briskly. He waited a respectful interval before letting Garnett feel the compulsion of his slight movement toward the status board again.

“If you’re ready to go through tomorrow’s status—”

“Haley, will the change of command in the Division affect morale?”

“It will cheer them up for a while, sir.

“They won’t necessarily be hostile to a new face?”

“All generals look alike to them Cliff.”

“Then how will it cheer them up?”

“They figure a new general’s always good for a couple of soft missions, sir.”

Garnett searched that round face for the telltale smirk of an insinuation but it was not there. Haley had been staling a fact. Then, with a surge of relief, ho saw Evans with a paper.

“Is that from General Kane?” he snapped.

“No, sir. The last Group reports all crews now provided with freshly packed parachutes in compliance with this morning’s order, sir.’

51

DISAPPOINTMENT and the shock of this reminder seemed to paralyze Garnett’s tongue. By long habit he nodded curtly and watched Evans disappear. Then, for the first time since he had been in the Island, a blessed inner prompting reminded him that the other Generals Garnett must have been in tough places, too.

“We’ll go through tomorrow’s status, Haley.”

There was refuge, oven in that arithmetic, and Garnett found himself following with concentration almost to the end before the revelation struck him. He had to clear his throat to be sure eagerness did not lighten his crisp, official tone.

“One thirty and one thirty-two crews. That’s not. really four full Groups, is it?”

“This is the third day of intensive Ops, sir. I bet the Germans would be glad to show ninety per cent serviceability for tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t criticizing, Haley. But we just haven’t the strength General Dennis had, have we?”

“One thirty’s enough for any target in the book if they hit it, sir,” replied Haley evenly.

“How many crews would be on their last mission?”

“Sixteen, sir.”

“Is there any way wo could give them a break? Haley shook his head slowly; it was an old question but all Commanders asked it. “ They’re your Element, Squadron, Group, and Wing leaders now, sir. Of course if it’s a short mission tomorrow that is a break for them, to finish on an easy one.”

He waited again but General Garnett said nothing. After a minute he looked at his watch pointedly. But Garnett had gone back to the desk, from which he now brought the directive folder.

“Haley, when General Dennis handed over to me this afternoon I missed some of the details. Now, it says here: ‘In the absence of explicit target designation or other order from Higher Headquarters, Division Commanders will exercise their own discretion —'" He tossed the folder back onto the desk. “When should this designation come down?”

“From General Kane’s 1800 weather conference, sir.”

“In practice does he ever wait for later readings?”

“very rarely, sir.

“If we hear nothing this applies automatically?

“Automatically, sir.”

Haley looked at his watch and permitted himself to shuffle one foot ever so slightly. Patience with new Commanders was part of his job, but the other parts were piling up in the back room.

“Haley, if General Kane should order us to give these crews a break, in view of the last three days, the target itself would still be my discretion?

“ Yes, sir. That’s in the directive.”

“What kind of target would be right for that ?”

“That’s a matter for Intelligence, sir. If you’d like to speak to Major Lansing —

“I want a general idea from you first.

It was improper, but a lifetime in the service had shown Haley no way around the ordered improprieties of commanding generals. He led Garnett to the map.

“The Germans probably wouldn’t fight for anything in France tomorrow, sir. They’d like a rest, too.”

“And there are sound Naval objectives in France, aren’t there?” Garnett encouraged him. “What about flak?

“Brest is rough, sir. As for the others, I haven’t the exact data in my head —”

“Just give me a general idea.” It was a command.

“Well, sir. Havre is about three point nine, Cherbourg about three point four, Calais about two point two, Dunkerque one point six, Dieppe one point four —”

“These are percentages of loss? breathed Garnett.

“Expectancy, sir, based on previous experience.

“And we have attacked such objectives before?”

Haley shrugged. “For training new crews, sir. If you’d like to speak to Major Lansing —”

He turned from the map deliberately now to disclaim further responsibility for the proper spheres of the Staff sections. It was not his business.

“I’ll see him later,” said Garnett. What about those pictures of today’s strikes?

It was one of the things Haley had wished to accelerate downstairs instead of wasting his time here, but he kept the indignation out of his voice.

“They’re rushing them, sir; should be up soon. I doubt if they’ll show anything but smoke after that lead Group anyway. And you’re aware, sir, that both reconnaissance planes are unreported again today.”

He was aware; whichever way be turned, the whole question was waiting for him.

“Yes, but they’re great pictures. It was a wonderful strike, wasn’t, it ?”

“ Best of the war, to date, sir.”

“None of the later pictures showed parachutes?”

“ None, sir.”

“And nothing further from crew interrogations?”

“One more sighting that agreed exactly with the others, sir. As the fire worked toward his gas tanks Colonel Martin’s plane swung away from the formation and then exploded. Four parachutes were seen to open but there were no individual identifications.”

It was impossible to get away from it. Garnett ordered Haley to bring the weather when it was ready and watched the door close with the most acute feeling of loneliness he had ever known. He tried an unhappy circuit of the room but from every angle the Swastika on the wall seemed to draw his eyes. The other Generals Garnett were very far away now. He threw himself into the chair and sat frowning savagely at the directive folder.

52

HE WAS staring intently without seeing a letter of the type when Dennis walked in on him. Garnett sprang up with relief only to feel it congealing inside him as he saw that Dennis had on his trench coat and was carrying his cap under his arm. He spoke in quick protest against their purport. “Come in, Casey. Come in and sit down.”

“Isn’t my plane reported yet?”

He explained that the special plane which Kane had ordered for Dennis wits not due until 2000, noting from his watch, as he spoke, that there would be at least five minutes until he was finally alone. “You’d better sit down, Casey. You can’t go without those pictures anyway. They’re rushing them.”

“Yeah. I’d forgotten how to be a courier.”

It was the first direct comment on his dismissal Dennis had offered and the bitterness of it burned All afternoon they had worked together on the mechanics of handing over the Command with the impersonal efficiency of their training. But it was done; the soldiers were face to face with the men inside them.

“General Kane’s right about your taking the strike photos back, Casey. They’ll help Washington understand what you’ve been through.”

Dennis said nothing. The silence, haunted for Garnett now with the questions that lay beyond it, was worse than any subject.

“It’s different back there, Casey. Those jobs are tough, but it’s not like being face to face with it.”

“I never was,” said Dennis. “Ted did that for me.”

“You took the responsibility, though. Those pictures will help you explain.”

“All discredited Commanders explain. Maybe I’ll write a book about it in some quiet back room.”

“There can be two points of view about this, Casey.”

“So I’ve learned.”

Garnett had a feeling that those eyes were dissecting him, cutting away layer after layer of the pretenses over the turmoil inside him. But before his dry tongue could protest, Dennis seemed to relax; his voice was suddenly apologetic under its gruffness. “I’m sorry, Cliff. I’m taking Ted’s personal stuff to Helen.”

“Good. You found everything?”

“Everything but his toothbrush.”

Garnett shot an uneasy glance at him, but Dennis’s eyes were on the map. Turning, Garnett found his own vision confronted again with the red crayon cross through Schweinhafen. He averted his eyes. “You’ll go to see Helen at once?”

“Of course.” Abruptly Dennis was back in the room with him and his voice was almost friendly. “Nothing since the Group report, I suppose?”

“One more sighting that agreed exactly with the others. Four parachutes seen. That’s something.”

“Four chances out of ten.”

The statement was flat with the finality that has dismissed hope. They both knew the odds against Martin’s position in the plane were smaller than even tins tantalizing fragment of chance. Garnett could feel Dennis congealing again. He blurted quickly, “Will you say the proper things for me, Casey?”

“What are they?”

“Well, ho was doing what he thought was right — and so were you.”

“And he gets killed and I get canned and Göring gets his jets.”

“Casey, we’re not sure he’s killed. How do the Germans really treat their prisoners?”

“All right usually.”

Entering the oflice, Haley informed them that the plane for General Dennis had landed and would be gassed in ten minutes. The pictures would be ready by then and General Dennis’s effects were being loaded as instructed.

Dennis nodded absently but Garnett broke in with that same evident anxiety. “You’re sure there are no messages, Haley?”

“Relay on a cable for General Dennis, sir. Mrs. Dennis and the children will be at the airport at his Estimated Time of Arrival.”

“Oh.” Haley always forgot how that fleeting smile could take a decade off Dennis’s face, for a minute. “Thanks, Ernie.”

Colonel Haley had seen too many Commanders replaced in his time to be disturbed by the process. An order was an order. What was more, Haley had strong feelings about criticism of Higher Command. Tonight, however, he regretted that this transition had not been accomplished more briskly. Changes did produce personal tension, and while General Dennis would never let his rank down, General Garnett’s agitation was so apparent that it would be unsuitable for any of the others to see it.

Haley withdrew, but before the door was fully closed Garnett saw Dennis’s smile sharpen into that piercing scrutiny he dreaded. He spoke quickly. “You may not believe this but I envy you, Casey.”

“You should.” Dennis seemed to relax again. “I’m afraid I’ve been talking like a heel. Cliff. Don’t worry about me. I’ll duck Washington.”

“ What will you do?”

Dennis had not allowed himself to think of it. consciously yet, but it was waiting, formulated in the background of his mind. Full consideration of it now touched him with pity for Garnett. He tried not to let his voice convey his overwhelming relief. “ I guess I still rate a training command. I’ll get one where I can have Cathy and the kids with me, where I can get a day off now and then to take the boy fishing. And at night, by God, I’ll sleep.’

“ Casey, will you ask Natalie to send me a bottle of sleeping tablets, large?”

Before Dennis had to answer that, Haley and Davis hurried in with the weather map. It was like relapse into a bad dream after too brief consciousness. Even as he told himself it was no longer his worry he could feel his stomach muscles tensing, could hear Garnett ask the question that was on his own lips.

“Well, what is it?”

Davis spread the map on the table, and before he could stop himself Dennis was hanging over it with the rest of them in taut scrutiny of the symbols.

“That front is still slowing down, sir,” Davis said. “The entire Continent will be open for bombing all day and you’ll have until 1700 over the bases.”

Dennis did not realize that he was already looking at the other map; he did not even hear the words that came clearly from his own lips. “My God! I wouldn’t have needed parachutes.”

Then, he was aware of the silence, of Garnett’s start and the stiffening and looks of the others.

“Haley,” said Garnett, “you’re sure there’s no word from General Kane?”

“Messages are brought as received, sir.”

Dennis controlled himself until Davis and Haley had left the room, whispering savagely under his breath that it was not his business. But with the closing of the door, the flooding bitterness inside him opened his mouth involuntarily. “Well, is it Dieppe or Dunkerque?”

“It’s easy for you to talk,” retorted Garnett. “ You’re out of it.”

“Left you a horrid example, too, didn’t I?”

He knew this was wanton cruelty, but he knew too that like all cruelty it proceeded only from the inner pain that drove it out of him. He should be done with that pain now; he had borne it long enough along with the rest of the burden. But he could not be done with it until Garnett assumed it.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Casey. I’m trying to think of the crews.”

“What crews?”

“My—the combat crews. They’ve just been through the worst three days of the war. Sixteen of them would finish tomorrow and go home, to their families, free.”

“You’d better think of the others.”

“ What others? ”

“The ones who’ll have to replace those sixteen and all others who’ll have to come after them if these don’t do their job.”

“Casey, that’s in the future, it’s abstract —

“It’s what you’re paid to think about. After you’ve done it, try thinking about the Infantry going up those beaches on D Day against jet fighter bombers that have already whipped us.”

He could see Garnett recoiling and part of him could pity the man, but it was the part he had whipped too often and too mercilessly in himself. There was no place for pity in this; there would be no escape for himself until he had driven Garnett beyond it.

“I did think of it that way in Washington,” said Garnett. “But after yesterday and today, watching those ambulances, and the stretchers coming out of the planes, hearing the boys ask about tomorrow’s weather before they hit the ground —”

He paused, but there was no comfort in the bleak face before him and he went on with rising vehemence. “ I’ve had to think of Ted over there, dead or maybe wounded and hiding—or captured —and my own sister not knowing —”

“He’s damned lucky,” said Dennis, “and so are you. You wanted a B-29 command. You wanted to take him where the Japs torture captured crews for fun. Out there you wouldn’t have any Kane to save your sanity for you with orders to take it easy.”

“Casey, he hasn’t sent me any orders.”

53

DENNIS had felt this. It had been waiting for him as he entered the room, leering from Garnett’s manifest agitation, taunting him through their guarded silences, shrieking at him from the questions Garnett had asked Haley. Even more than Garnett himself, Dennis had been dreading it. He had denied it to himself. He wanted only to escape, to get into that plane and go.

He had earned his freedom; he should be free. He had forced this test to the breaking point and been broken. He had failed and been fired. It was over. He should have nothing to face but the future now; there was more than enough in that.

He had to learn to live with the vacuum that had been Ted. He had to get himself together to dissemble agreement, to feign comfort from Cathy’s consolations and reassurances. He had to find work, to rededicate himself, to get a training command where his skills and experience could re-enter the inexorable continuity of the Army’s purposes.

All of this was before him. He had set his face and steps and thought toward it but now he saw that it was another step away, that he could not yet put down the burden of the present. He stared at Garnett and said slowly, “ Kane hasn’t ordered a milk run?”

“No, he hasn’t ordered anything. Of course I know what he expects of me —”

“What do you expect of yourself?”

He saw Garnett squirm, and then, as the remark bit more deeply into him, it found a tougher substructure. His reply was angry, combative. “It’s easy for you to talk. When you had to decide this last night Kane was here, supporting you.”

“Was he in that lead plane this morning, supporting Ted?”

Haley, returning just then with the message from General Kane, thought Garnett looked better. His face was red with anger but there was a new tone in his curt command for Haley to read the signal aloud.

“‘General Kane and party, ” he read, “‘compelled proceed Hemisphere Commander’s dinner for guests London consequently unable attend weal her conference. General Kane desires express especial confidence in General Garnett’s discretion based on weather. Other Divisions notified. Signed Saybold for Kane.'”

Haley raised his head expectantly. But neither Garnett nor Dennis spoke.

“The Group Commanders need briefing poop and bomb loads for tomorrow, sir,” said Haley.

Garnett appeared not to have heard him. His face and forehead were heavily furrowed now. He stirred and quoted, half aloud.

“'Especial confidence General Garnett’s discretion —’ Casey, this isn’t permission — ”

“It’s just what Ted had this morning,” said Dennis. “He could be here right now, sitting in that chair, on his discretion.”

“That was different,” said Garnett slowly. “By the time he got it he was already committed. He probably didn’t have any real choice.”

“What do you think he took that toothbrush for?” demanded Dennis. “When he left here this morning he knew Kane would pass the buck to him.”

For a second more Garnett hesitated, whispering to himself that he must think. But in the echoing silence of his mind he knew it was evasion. Thought itself would only be evasion. He shook his head hard to clear it.

“Haley, notify the other Divisions and all Groups that the Fifth Division will attack Fendelhorst.”

Dennis scarcely saw Haley’s departure. There had come over him a sense of soaring, giddy lightness; he seemed to be floating in detachment. He knew it for what it was, the lifted disequilibrium of final release from a crushing load. When his senses readjusted themselves to it, this time he would be free. He would walk to the plane lightly and get into it and go. None of this could follow him now.

He found that he was shaking hands with Garnett, who was grinning at him a little wryly. “Save me a job in that training command, will you?”

“You’ll be wanting it,” said Dennis, and he knew that Garnett could understand him.

“And don’t forget those sleeping tablets.”

He nodded casually before remembering that he and Garnett were past that now. “Cliff, they’re no good. I didn’t think you’d need to know this but — you know Major Dayhuff—I introduced him to you this afternoon.”

“Dayhuff? Dayhuff? Oh, sure. My Ordnance man. Nice fellow.”

“No. Your Medical Officer. Pretty nice fellow. He’ll help you, but not enough.”

He saw Garnett nod slow acceptance and began to fasten the little catches on his coat collar. His hands were not altogether sure and his feet, felt light, but every minute was with him now. The entrance of Evans quickened his reawakening with a flicker of t he familiar pain he had known in other partings.

“The plane’s ready, sir, and —good luck.”

He shook hands more rapidly than he meant to but. he could see, in Evans’s face, that it was all right. Garnett had put on a cap to go out with him and Evans was standing back to let them pass when Haley came in.

“Sir,” he said reluctantly, “there’s an order for General Dennis from Washington.”

A look at Haley’s troubled face told him. He could feel the whole burden again now, crushing down on him through the Colonel’s silent hesitancy; he could see a reflection of it in the shocked comprehension in Garnett’s eyes.

“No! I’ve got my orders, Haley. I’ve gone home.”

“We’re instructed to relay this to your plane, sir.”

He wanted to refuse it, to run for the plane, but his feel would not move. He watched Haley walk over, a little uncertainly, and hand the paper to Garnett. It gave him a few seconds to brace himself, to set his feet, though he still could not feel them. Garnett wet his lips and read slowly: “‘With immediate effect General Dennis will proceed via Gibraltar, Cairo, Karachi, and Calcutta to Chungking to await imminent arrival his B-29 Command.’”

Against the first full shock of it he heard himself shout, “No, by God!”

Then instinctive, immediate shame choked his outburst, and followed it into the silence. He found that his hands were steady on the catches of his coat collar now. He could feel his legs, all the way to the floor, and they were not buckling. The quick, upsurging roar of a warming motor outside seemed to transmit some of its own power into him. As the sound faded he could feel his new burden fully, but. this time his strength was under it; the equilibrium was restored.

“Cliff, does that say ‘with immediate effect’?”

“I’m afraid it does, Casey.”

“Evans,” he said sharply, “get your things.”

(The End)