"What do you think they mean by `model of Banning's car'?" Reeves asked.
"Studebaker," Howard said. "Right? Or are they talking about that English car, the Jaguar, that Captain Pickering was driving?"
"It says `model repeat model,' " Koffler said. "I think they mean `President,' a Studebaker President. If they meant the Jaguar they would have said `Pickering."'
"I'm sure Steve's right " Reeves said.
"Let's try it," Howard I said. It did not go unnoticed by him that Reeves had used Koffler's first name.
"Well, it's English," Howard said five minutes later, "but what the hell does it mean?" Reeves and Koffler looked down at the sheet of paper. On it Howard had written the message in code blocks, then his interpretation of that:
N A T H A
N S W A N
T H I S N
0 R N T 0
S E E P A
T I E N S
Nathan Swan This Norn to See Patiens
"'Norn' is maybe `North'?" Koffler guessed.
"There's no `M' in `Daphne Farnsworth Patiens,"' Reeves said. "Make it `swam' and `morn."' "Nathan swam this morn to see Patience," Howard said.
"That makes more sense, but what does it mean?"
"Nathan is obviously the Nathaniel of the first message, Reeves said. "What it could mean is that he came ashore, swam ashore, from a submarine or something."
"This morn? This morning?"
"Yes. If that's what it means. This morning."
"Could he do that?" Koffler said.
"He could try to do it. That's not quite the same thing. The reason there are so few ports on Buka is that the surf is so rough in most places-this time of the year especially. Presumably they know that. That means he would either have to try to make it ashore near a port, which would place him very fat away, or through the surf somewhere near here. Which won be quite difficult."
"They know what shape we're in supplywise," Howard said "Maybe they figured it was worth the risk."
"You think there's a chance he's not alone?" Steve asked.
"This could very well be wishful thinking, Steve," Reeve said. "Certainly, it is. But if I were the man in charge and we going to all the trouble of sending someone up here, I would the extra mile and try to send in more than one person-an supplies, of course."
"Get on the air, Steve," Howard ordered. "Send, `Message acknowledged and understood."
"That's all?"
"That's all. If they wanted to tell us more than they did, the would have."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
[Four]
COMMAND POST, 2ND BATTALION, FIFTH MARINES
GUADALCANAL, SOLOMON ISLANDS
0830 HOURS 6 OCTOBER 1942
Using his arm as a pillow, Major Jack (NMI) Stecker USMCR, was curled up asleep on his side on the deck of the S-3 section. His Garand rifle, with two eight-round clips pinned to the strap, was hanging from a nail in the wooden frame the situation map.
When the flyboy from Henderson Field walked into the command post asking to see the Old Man, Stecker's S-3 sergeant was reluctant to disturb him.
"He was up all goddamned night, Captain," he said. "Can't this wait a couple of hours?" Captain Charles M. Galloway, USMCR, shook his head no, and then said it aloud: "No, it won't, Gunny."
"Aye, aye, Sir," the gunny said, and went to Stecker an knelt beside him and gently shook his shoulder.
"Sir? Sir?" Stecker woke reluctantly, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder. But then he was suddenly wide awake, forcing himself to sit up.
"What's up, Gunny.?" Stecker asked as he looked at his watch.
"An officer to see you, Sir." Stecker searched the dark area and found Galloway.
"This better be important, Captain," Stecker said, matter-of-factly.
"Sir, my name is Galloway. I have VMF-229." Stecker saw the look on Galloway's face.
"Give us some privacy, will you, Gunny?" he said softly.
He waited until the gunny was out of earshot and then said, "OK, let's have it."
"Your son crashed on landing about twenty-five minutes ago, Sir," Galloway said.
"You're here, that means bad news," Stecker said.
"He's pretty badly banged up, Sir, but he's alive."
"Define `pretty badly,' would you, please?"
"Both of his legs are broken; he has a compound fracture of the right arm; his collarbone has probably been cracked. He almost certainly has broken ribs, and there are probably some internal injuries."
"Jesus Christ!" Stecker exhaled. "Is he going to live?"
"Commander Persons-I just left him-said that barring complications-"
"Persons?" Stecker interrupted. "Mean little guy?" He held his hand up to nearly his shoulder level, to indicate a runt.
"Yes, Sir."
"Barring complications, what?"
"He will recover and will probably even be able to return to flight status." I'm telling you that because that's what Persons told me, and because I want to believe it, not because I do believe it. When they pulled him from the wreck, I was surprised that he was alive.
"I don't like to think what Mrs. Stecker will do when she gets the telegram," Stecker said. "I suppose you've already set that in motion?"
"No, Sir. I haven't. MAG-21 handles that, Sir. You could probably talk to Colonel Dawkins-"
"What happened? `Crashed on landing'? Is that a polite way of saying it was his fault?"
"It looked to me as if his right tire was flat, Sir."
"You saw the accident?"
"Yes, Sir. I was right behind him in the pattern.
"And?"
And a second after he touched down, he started to ground loop to the right, and then he was rolling end over end down the strip; the only way it could have been worse was if there had been more gas in his tanks and it exploded "He was attempting to make a dead-stick landing, Sir. He was out of fuel."
"How did that happen?"
"They hit us pretty badly this morning, Major-"
"I was up earlier, I saw it."
"_and he stayed up as long as he thought he could, as long as he thought he had fuel to stay."
"You encourage that sort of thing, Captain, do you? Staying up there until you have just enough fuel to maybe make it back to the field?" Stecker asked nastily, and then immediately apologized. "Forgive me. That was uncalled for. And you were up there, too, weren't you, presumably doing the same thing?"
"We lost three Wildcats this morning, Sir. And the Air Corps lost two of their P400s."
"Counting my son?"
"No, Sir. Not counting him."
But including a Wildcat piloted by Major Jack Finch. Finch wouldn't have been up there if I hadn't told him he could, for auld long syne.
"All lost? Or just shot down?"
"One of the P400 pilots made it back to the field, Sir. Just him."
"Tell me about this flat tire," Stecker said after a moment.
"He told me that he'd taken some hits.... Major, I didn't mention this, but he shot down two Bettys and a Zero this morning. He's an ace. That makes it six total for him."
"All I knew he had was one," Stecker said. "The flat tire?"