Jamie also told him that the late Toyoza Kaga was being hailed as the man who had headed up a spy ring in Honolulu and provided the United States with all the information regarding Japanese plans. Included in his ring were the colored staff at the various officers’ clubs, who, it was said, had overheard many Japanese talking about those plans, and could not imagine a Negro understanding Japanese. According to Magic intercepts, the Japanese had accepted the story as gospel; thus, the existence of Magic was still a secret.
Jake and Alexa left San Diego by rail and arrived in Washington, D.C., a week and a half later. The trip gave them a chance to find out more about themselves and the world about them. The invasion of North Africa under Eisenhower had occurred, and both England and Russia appeared to be holding out. Jamie had told them this meant the fleet would be returning to the Pacific, where Admiral Spruance and a rejuvenated Bull Halsey would lead attacks against a pair of lightly defended islands off the coast of Japan-Okinawa and Iwo Jima. With little in the way of a Japanese navy left, the Americans could roam the Pacific at will, and the two islands would be set up as bombing stations for attacks against Japan. General MacArthur was steamed because he wanted the Philippines liberated first, but the navy’s star was ascendant, and the Philippines would wait for a little while.
In Washington, Jake met Alexa’s uncle and thought that, under different circumstances, the short, stubby congressman could have been a ridiculous little man. However, he exuded a genuine fondness for Alexa that was reciprocated and that meant he was Jake’s friend.
Jake’s thoughts were interrupted by a very sharply dressed captain who told him he could go into the inner sanctum. Jake still wore the eagles of a full colonel, although he wondered what his real rank might be. The next few minutes would tell as he stepped into the office.
Jake started to come to attention, but General George C. Marshall stopped him, rose from behind his desk, and shook his hand. “You did a great job in Hawaii, Colonel, a great job.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Marshall gestured for him to be seated. “How did your meeting with Roosevelt go?”
“Very good, sir. He seemed almost exuberantly happy.” Jake smiled at the recent memory. “He even made me a martini.”
Marshall smiled inwardly. The overwhelming victory in the Pacific had purged Roosevelt of the demons that had been plaguing him. There was no longer any serious worry about the president’s health. Henry Wallace would not be the next President of the United States.
“Good. Now let me get to the point of this meeting, which is, of course, your future. By the way, Admiral Nimitz wrote me and said you could transfer to the navy anytime. King endorsed it.”
“Uh, I’ll pass, sir.” Jake hoped it was a joke.
“Wise decision,” Marshall said with the barest flicker of a smile. “Colonel, it is rumored that I keep a list of officers who I think can accomplish things. That rumor is true, and it is also true that your name was not on it. It is now. You have conclusively proven that you are a wartime officer, and we are in a war that will last for some time. Sadly, the beginning of any war requires the weeding out of men who appeared qualified in peacetime but who fail to live up to expectations when the shooting starts.”
Jake understood that Marshall was talking about people like Admiral Kimmel and General Short. Both had been honest, decent men who’d failed the test of battle. There had been many others; even division and corps commanders were sacked for being unable to function in the face of a real enemy.
“First of all, Colonel, you will keep your rank. It’s now permanent, and you deserve it.”
“Thank you, sir.” A year ago Jake had been an overage captain. Now he was a full colonel, with prospects for additional advancement.
“I wish you to work here in the Pentagon for about six months, providing us with as much insight as you can regarding the Japanese way of war. After that, you will be sent to England to serve with those who are planning future actions against the Nazis. It is most likely that you will be serving in an intelligence and security capacity. Because of your knowledge of Magic, you will not be given a combat command.”
Jake was slightly surprised, but not disappointed, at not getting a combat command. He’d had his fill of fighting. “Then I will not be returning to the Pacific?”
“No. The land war portion of the Pacific campaign will belong to the marines and General MacArthur, with the marines probably bearing the brunt of it. Your penchant for honest evaluations and assessments would not serve you well there. MacArthur’s staff includes officers who tell him what he wishes to hear. They would destroy you. Eisenhower is probably going to command in England. He is an honest man who can handle bad tidings. He doesn’t like them any more than the next man, but he can deal with them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marshall stood. The interview was over. “Take a couple of weeks’ leave time, Colonel. You deserve it, and that’s an order.”
Jake grinned. “Thank you, sir.”
“Oh, and you’re going to get a medal. No one’s decided which one yet, but a Silver Star is very likely.”
Jake found it difficult to speak. “Thank you, sir,” he finally managed.
In the hallway, Alexa took his arm. She was wearing a blue dress that must have been several years old since it covered much of her magnificent legs.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“I have two weeks off, six months here, and a future. Oh yeah, I’m getting a medal.”
She squeezed his arm. “Excellent summary. I can see why the military likes you. Take me to dinner and fill me in on the details.”
“All right.”
“Here’s a summary of my own. You have two weeks. Marry me.”
Jake took a deep breath. He loved her, and they’d discussed marriage a number of times, although without coming to any conclusions. “Are you sure?”
“You’re a colonel with medals, and that’ll dazzle my relatives. Soon you’ll be a general, and that will knock them on their elegant cans. Besides, my dearest Jake, I love you very much, and, after all we’ve been through, do you think I give a shit? I want to be called Mrs. Novacek, and I want to have a little Jake on the way before you go to England.”
Jake laughed. How the hell had she known he was going to England? Magic?
Acknowledgments
This is my fourth alternate history novel, and all have been published by Random House’s Ballantine division. The people at Ballantine realize that alternate history is a growing and very intriguing niche in the world of historical fiction. And, for a writer, it is intellectually stimulating and just great good fun to tweak or twist history and make it come out plausibly and logically.
Along with being grateful for my wife, Diane; my daughter, Maura; and all the friends who have supported me, I’d like to thank Ryan Doherty and Fleetwood Robbins of Ballantine for all their assistance and advice.
About the Author
Robert Conroy is a semiretired business and economic history teacher living in suburban Detroit.
This is his fourth alternate history novel.
Some of the characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance between these characters and actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The dialogue and specific incidents described are products of the author’s imagination and creativity. They should not be construed as real,
