Haughton pushed it open and stepped inside. Inside, there was a wall of pierced-steel planking (interlocking sections of steel, perforated to permit the passage of water, designed for the hasty construction of temporary aircraft run-ways; it was quickly adopted for a host of other purposes). A door of the same material (closed) and a window (open) were cut into the wall. Through the window, Haughton could see a Marine sergeant armed with a Colt Model 1911A1.45 ACP pistol, in a shoulder holster, sitting at a desk in his khaki shirt. His blouse hung from a hanger hooked into the pierced steel netting wall. Hanging beside his blouse was a Winchester Model 1897 12-gauge trench gun.
The pierced steel wall and the armed guard were necessary because the Marine Corps Office of Management Analysis had nothing whatever to do with either management or analysis. What the Office of Management Analysis did was clandestine intelligence, and special, clandestine, operations.
The sergeant saw him, recognized him, and stood up.
"Good morning, Sir," he said. "I know the Colonel expects you."
Haughton held out to him a photo identification card.
"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir," the sergeant said, and pushed a clipboard through the window opening in the pierced-steel planking.
Haughton wrote his name, the time, and "Colonel Rickabee" in the "To See" blank on the form on the clipboard and pushed it back. Colonel F. L. Rickabee was Deputy Chief of the Office of Management Analysis.
"Thank you, Sir," the sergeant said, and then pressed a hidden button. When he heard the buzzing of a solenoid, Haughton pushed open the door in the metal wall.
He walked through a second interior door, which gave access to a stair-way. He waited for a second buzz of a solenoid, then pushed the door open and started to climb the stairs. Behind him, he heard the sergeant, apparently on a telephone, say, "Colonel, Captain Haughton is on deck."
Haughton went up the wooden stairs two at a time. Beyond a door at the top of the stairs was another pierced-steel wall. Beside it was a doorbell button. As Haughton reached to push the button, the door opened.
"Good morning, Sir," Major Ed Banning said.
When he saw Banning, Haughton was always uncomfortably reminded of his own noncombatant role in the war. On Banning's tunic were half a dozen ribbons, including one whose miniature oak-leaf cluster represented the second award of the Purple Heart, for wounds received in combat. The ribbon repre-senting service in the Pacific Theater of Operations was further adorned with a small black star, indicating that the wearer had not only been in the Pacific but had participated in a battle.
In Banning's case, this was the battle of the Philippines. Haughton had learned-not from Banning, but from Lieutenant Kenneth R. McCoy, who had been there-that Banning took shrapnel from Japanese artillery during the ini-tial Japanese landings. Left behind when American forces retreated, and hiding out behind the enemy lines, he came under American artillery fire, whose con-cussion blinded him.
He was ultimately led through the enemy lines to a hospital, and finally to the hospital on Fortress Corregidor. From there he was evacuated, with other blinded men, by submarine. His sight inexplicably returned while he was on the sub.
"How are you, Banning?"
"Very well, thank you, Sir. I guess we heard from The Boss?"
Haughton held up the briefcase, which was attached to his wrist by a steel cable and half a handcuff. Then he walked through the pierced-steel planking door, and down a narrow corridor to the end, which held the offices of the Chief, USMC Office of Management Analysis, and his deputy.
The door was opened by Colonel Rickabee, who had changed into a uni-form after his breakfast meeting with Banning at the Foster Lafayette. But even in uniform, with the silver eagles of a colonel pinned to his collar points, and even wearing a 1911A1.45 automatic in a shoulder holster, Colonel F. L. Rickabee, USMC, did not look much like a professional warrior.
BEHIND THE LINES ? 103
"Hello, David. How are you?" Rickabee said, offering his hand.
Haughton wondered if Rickabee really thought the.45 was necessary, or whether he was wearing it to set an example for the others. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone would launch an assault against the Office of Manage-ment Analysis-even with its bulging files of TOP SECRET material. And even if that happened, it seemed likely that the pierced-steel doors and the ser-geants with their 12-gauge riot guns would at least slow them down enough so that reinforcements could be called up.
"Good to see you, Fritz," Haughton said.
"Little wet outside? Would a cup of coffee be welcome? Or something stronger?"
"Coffee, please."
Banning turned and went down the corridor, obviously in search of coffee. Haughton found the key to his handcuff, and with some difficulty managed to detach himself from the briefcase. Then he worked the combination lock of the briefcase and took from it a manila folder, on which was stamped in inch-high red letters TOP SECRET. He handed it to Rickabee as Banning returned, car-rying three steaming china mugs by their handles.
"General Pickering has been heard from," Haughton said, handing the file to Rickabee.
Ten days before, Pickering had left his hospital bed-prematurely, Haugh-ton thought-to undertake a personal mission for the President: Colonel Dono-van, the head of OSS, had complained to the President that General Douglas MacArthur had flatly refused to even talk to the man Donovan had sent to run the OSS operation in the Pacific. And Roosevelt had decided that if anyone could solicit MacArthur's cooperation, it was Brigadier General Fleming W. Pickering.
The documents in the TOP SECRET folder Haughton had brought to Rickabee were the first word anyone had heard from Pickering since he had flown back to the Far East.
Rickabee slumped back in his chair and started to read the first of the two messages.
=TOP SECRET=
EYES ONLY-THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION AND TRANSMITTAL TO SECNAV
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
SATURDAY 17 OCTOBER 1948
DEAR PRANK:
I ARRIVED HERE WITHOUT INCIDENT PROM PEARL HARBOR. PRESUMABLY, MAJOR ED BANNING IS BY NOW IN WASHINGTON AND YOU HAVE HAD A CHANCE TO HEAR WHAT HE HAD TO SAY, AND TO HAVE HAD A LOOK AT THE PHOTOGRAPHS AND FILM.
WITHIN AN HOUR OF WHAT I THOUGHT WAS MY UNHERALDED ARRIVAL, I WAS SUMMONED TO A PRIVATE-REALLY PRIVATE, ONLY EL SUPREMO AND ME-LUNCHEON. HE ALSO HAD A SKEWERED IDEA WHY I WAS SENT HERE. HE THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE PEACE BETWEEN HIM AND ADMIRAL NIMITZ. HE ASSURED ME THAT HE AND NIMITZ ARE GREAT PALS, WHICH I THINK, AFTER TALKING WITH NIMITZ AT PEARL HARBOR, IS ALMOST TRUE.
WHEN I BROUGHT UP DONOVAN'S OSS PEOPLE, A WALL CAME DOWN. HE TELLS ME HE HAS NO INTENTION OF LETTING "DONOVAN GET HIS CAMEL'S NOSE UNDER THE TENT" AND VOLUNTEERED THAT NIMITZ FEELS THE SAME WAY. I ALSO SUSPECT THIS IS TRUE. I WILL KEEP TRYING, OF COURSE, BOTH BECAUSE I CONSIDER MYSELF UNDER ORDERS TO DO SO, AND BECAUSE I THINK THAT MACA IS WRONG AND DONOVAN'S PEOPLE WOULD BE VERY USEFUL, BUT I DON'T THINK I WILL BE SUCCESSFUL.
THE BEST INFORMATION HERE, WHICH I PRESUME YOU WILL ALSO HAVE SEEN BY NOW, IS THAT THE JAPANESE WILL LAUNCH THEIR ATTACK TOMORROW.
ADMIRAL GHORMLEY SENT TWO RADIOS (16 AND 17 OCTOBER) SAYING HIS FORCES ARE "TOTALLY INADEQUATE" TO RESIST A MAJOR JAPANESE ATTACK, AND MAKING WHAT SEEMS TO ME UNREASONABLE DEMANDS ON AVAILABLE NAVAL AND AVIATION RESOURCES. I DETECTED A CERTAIN LACK OF CONFIDENCE IN HIM ON MACA'S PART. I HAVE NO OPINION, AND CERTAINLY WOULD MAKE NO RECOMMENDATIONS VIS-A-VIS GHORMLEY IF I HAD ONE, BUT THOUGHT I SHOULD PASS THIS ON.