While he waited for the bourbon, he pinned the new insignia to his new shirt and freshly pressed tunic. The new shirt, being new, was not stiff with starch. Before long, he knew, it would look limp and floppy, not shipshape.
Is there a regulation someplace that orders shirts to be washed and starched before wear? I wouldn't be a damned bit surprised.
There was a knock at the door. When he opened it, a different bellman pushed in a tray on wheels; the tray held a bottle of Jack Daniel's, a battered silver bowl full of ice, a silver pitcher that presumably contained water, and two glass bowls, one filled with mixed nuts and the other with pretzels. There was also a newspaper, which Clete thought was a nice touch.
He took the bill from the bellman and signed it. When he turned back to the bellman, he was holding the newspaper open, so that it was ready to read when Clete took it.
"Welcome home, Lieutenant," the bellman said, meaning it.
"Thank you," Clete said. "It's good to be home."
"You're here," the bellman said, pointing at the photograph on the front page of the Los Angeles Times. It showed a dozen Marines standing by the Greyhound bus in front of the hotel. The headline above them read:
Guadalcanal Heroes Receive Key to City From Mayor
Clete looked at his photograph.
My God, I look like a cadaver! Do I really look that bad, or is it just the photograph?
"Thank you," Clete said.
The bullshit begins.
After he joined the other returning pilots back on Espiritu Santoin the absence of more deserving heroes, he decided, he was apparently a last-minute addition to the rosterand they were waiting for further air transportation, via Pearl Harbor, T.H., to U.S. Navy Base, San Diego, California, there was a lot of talk, naturally, about why they were being sent home.
No one believed that their pleasure, or comfort, or even physical well-being had anything to do with it. The Marine Corps did not act that way. It was certainly not a reward for a job well done, either.
All they'd been told, probably all that anyone knew, was that the orders came as a radio message from Eighth and I.
It wasn't until they were actually given their orders at Espiritu (a twenty-copy stack of mimeographed paper), minutes before they boarded the Martin Mariner, that the words "War Bond Tour" came up. And these gave Clete little more information than Dawkins had already told him:
The following officers,the orders read, are detached from indicated organizations and temporarily attached to the USMC Public Affairs Office, Federal Building, Los Angeles, Cal, for the purpose of participating in a War Bond Tour.
That 1/Lt Frade, C. H., USMCR was detached from VMF-229 was sort of a joke, for littleif anythingof Marine Fighter Squadron Number 229 remained to be detached from. After Clete wrecked his Wildcat, VMF-229 was down to two airplanes and four pilots. There were almost no mechanics, or clerks, or cooks either. As more of VMF-229's Wildcats and their pilots had been shot down, crashed, or simply disappeared than had been replaced, the mechanics and clerks had been transferred to other squadrons.
What, exactly, a baker's dozen of battered fighter pilots who resembled not at all the handsome Marine aviators of the movies and recruiting posters could possibly have to do with a War Bond Tour was something of a mystery, until one of them realized that they all had one thing in common besides membership in the Cactus Air Force and their surprising presence among the living. They eachhe polled the jury to make surehad shot down at least five Japanese aircraft. They were all aces. Two were double aces, and one was working hard on being a triple.
"They're putting us on fucking display, is what they're doing!" one of them announced in disgust.
There were groans. Some of these were genuine, Clete thoughtincluding his own. And some of them were pro forma. There was really nothing wrong with being identified as a hero. For one thing, as one said with a certain fascination in his voice, it would probably get them laid. Clete Frade had absolutely nothing against getting laid, but he was uncomfortable with the notion of considering himself a hero. In his mind, what he'd done was only what he had been ordered to do.
He had not volunteered to fly at Midway, where he shot down his first Japanese shortly before being shot down himself and earning his first Purple Heart. And he had not volunteered to go to Guadalcanal. He was sent there, and he flew off Henderson and Fighter One because he was ordered to. So far as he was concerned, with one exception, he owed his seven victories to luck. He could just as easily have been killed. He was not a hero. On the chartered Greyhound bus from San Diego to Los Angeles, a public relations major stood in the aisle and delivered a little speech, the straight scoop about what was going on, Clete Frade realized then.
"What this is all about, gentlemen," the major said, "is civilian morale. The powers that be have decided that civilian morale needs a shot in the arm. You may have noticed that so far in this war, we haven't done very welclass="underline" The Japanese took Wake Island away from the Marine Corps, and the Philippines away from the Army. In other words, we have had our ass kickedwith two exceptions.
"The two exceptions, the only times we have at least hurt the Japanese a little, were Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle's B-25 raid on Tokyo and the Corps' invasion of Guadalcanal. From what I've heard, we almost got pushed back into the sea at Guadalcanal, and that fight, as you all well know, is by no means over. But at least it looks to the public as if the Armed Forces, especially the Marine Corps, have finally done something right.
"So what has this got to do with you? You're Marine officers. You will carry out the orders you are given cheerfully and to the best of your ability. Your orders in this instance are to comply with whatever orders we feather merchants in Public Affairs give you. Generally speaking, this will mean being where you are told to be, sober, in the proper uniform, and wearing a smile. This will, it is hoped, convince the civilian populace that after some initial setbacks, the Marines finally have the situation under control. This, in turn, may encourage people to buy War Bonds, and it may even convince some of our innocent youth to rush to the recruiting station so they can share in the glory.
"An effort will be made to have someone from Public Affairs present whenever you are interviewed by the press. Keep in mind that the purpose of this operation is to bolster civilian morale. I don't want to hear that any of you have been telling the press about what went wrong on Guadalcanal, and that certainly means you are not at liberty to say anything unflattering about the Navy, or the Army, or indeed the Corps.
"The tour will last two weeks, and possibly three. When it is over, you will be given a fifteen-day delay en route to your new assignments. The tour will start on Monday, which will give you an opportunity to get your uniforms in shape. Tonight you are free. Which does not mean you are at liberty to get drunk and chase skirts. Use the time to call home, if you like, to have a good meal, andrepeating myselfto have your uniforms pressed and your shoes shined. Sometime early tomorrow morning, you will be informed where you are to gather for specific instruction in what will be expected of you."
After the bus delivered them to the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, and the senior officer among them had received the Key To The City from the Mayor, they were assigned to rooms. Clete Frade's first priority then was a long, hot shower.
"Is there anything else I can get for you. Lieutenant?" the bellman asked.