“Which means that twenty-four hours after that, best possible scenario, forty-eight hours after that, worst scenario, or thirty-six hours after that, most likely scenario, Major Ashton will get off a South American Airways Constellation in Frankfurt. To which I say, Hooray!”
“You really want this guy to come, don’t you?” Tiny asked.
“This will probably shock you, Sergeant Dunwiddie, but I am really looking forward to having Major Ashton relieve the unbelievably heavy burden of this command from my weak and inadequate shoulders.”
Cronley turned to Lieutenant Stratford.
“Now, when Major Ashton gets off that Constellation in Frankfurt, we have to get him here without anyone knowing we’re doing so. The way we’re going to do that is meet the airplane with a three-quarter-ton ex-ambulance. The bumpers of that vehicle identify it as having come from the motor pool of the 711th QM MKRC.”
“The what?” Stratford asked.
“The 711th Quartermaster Mess Kit Repair Company.”
“I have the strangest feeling you are not pulling my chain,” Stratford said.
“We’re not,” Dunwiddie said.
Cronley went on: “Sequence of events. We hear, from the SIGABA aboard the Constellation, when it takes off from Lisbon, when it will arrive in Rhine-Main. I then get in one of our Storches and Kurt gets in the other one. We fly to the airfield at Eschborn…”
“I know where it is,” Stratford said.
“… where the ambulance, having been stashed somewhere safe, has gone to meet us—”
“‘Stashed somewhere safe’?”
“That’s where you come in,” Dunwiddie said.
“I get in the ambulance,” Cronley continued. “We drive to Rhine-Main. Major Ashton gets in the ambulance. We drive back to Eschborn. We get back in the Storches and take off. The ambulance then departs for where it had been stashed.”
“You want me to stash your ambulance for how long?”
Cronley didn’t answer.
“Phase two,” he said. “Two to four days after that, the Storches fly into Eschborn again. This time they have a passenger. The passenger and I get in the ambulance, which has come from its stash place to meet me. We drive to Rhine-Main. The passenger — who may have a companion, we haven’t decided about that yet — gets on an SAA airplane. The ambulance drives me back to Eschborn and the Storches take off. The ambulance drives off, destination Kloster Grünau.”
“Who’s the passenger?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“He is not pulling your chain,” Dunwiddie said.
“For how long am I supposed to stash your ambulance?”
“Maybe two ambulances?” Cronley asked. “I am a devout believer in redundancy.”
“Two ambulances.”
“Thank you,” Cronley said. “When I get back to Kloster Grünau, we’ll send them to Frankfurt. In other words, from tomorrow until this is over. At least a week. Maybe ten days.”
“We’ve got a relay station outside Frankfurt, in an ex-German kaserne not far from the 97th General Hospital. I could stash your ambulances there in what used to be stables for horse-drawn artillery.”
“Thank you,” Cronley said again.
When they came out of the building, intending to join Colonel Bristol and General Gehlen, Technical Sergeant Abraham L. Tedworth rolled up in a jeep. He was heading a convoy. Behind him were three canvas-backed GMC 6×6 trucks — each towing a trailer — and three jeeps, also towing trailers and with their.50 caliber Browning machine guns now shrouded by canvas covers.
Sergeant Tedworth got out of his jeep. He put his hands on his hips and bellowed at the 6×6s, “Get your fat asses out of the trucks and fall in!”
Lieutenant Stratford was visibly impressed as forty black men, the smallest of whom was pushing six feet and two hundred pounds, all armed with Thompson submachine guns, poured out of the trucks and, without further orders, formed four ten-man ranks, came to attention, then performed the Dress Right Dress maneuver.
Sergeant Tedworth took up a position in front of them, did a crisp about-face, and then saluted Cronley, who was by then in position, with First Sergeant Dunwiddie standing the prescribed “one pace to the left, one pace behind” him.
“Sir,” Tedworth barked, “First Platoon, Company C, 203rd Tank Destroyer Battalion, reporting for duty, sir.”
Cronley returned the salute.
“Welcome, welcome,” Cronley said. “At ease, men.”
They looked at him curiously.
“I’m sure you all noticed the precision with which First Sergeant Dunwiddie marched up behind me,” Cronley said. “This officer”—he pointed to Stratford—“Lieutenant Stratford is responsible. He taught First Sergeant Dunwiddie all he knows about Close Order Drill.”
This produced looks of confusion.
“I shit you not,” Cronley said solemnly.
This produced smiles.
“And after he did that, Lieutenant Stratford taught Rook Dunwiddie, as he was known in those days, how to tie, as well as shine, his boots and other matters of importance to a brand-new soldier.”
This produced wide smiles and some laughter.
“He will, I am sure, be happy to explain all this to you as he shows you around your new home,” Cronley said. “First Sergeant, take the formation.”
Dunwiddie was unable to restrain a smile as he saluted and barked, “Yes, sir.”
—
Well, that does it, Cronley thought as Dunwiddie started off on what was obviously going to be a familiarization tour of the Pullach compound.
Tiny’s Troops are here. The SIGABA is up and running. Those two bastards from the Pentagon will shortly arrive. The compound is now open for business.
And Major Ashton will soon be here to take the heavy burden of command from my shoulders.
“Very impressive,” Stratford said. “Where did you get them?”
“From General I. D. White,” Cronley said. “They were part of the Second Armored Division. And, yes, Lieutenant Stratford, I do know where General White got his commission.”
A fresh idea came to his mind.
I’ll take Colonel Bristol, General Gehlen, and Lieutenant Stratford to lunch at the Vier Jahreszeiten hotel.
I owe Bristol and Stratford a hell of a lot more than a meal, but it will if nothing else show them how grateful I am.
I also can introduce all of them to Major Wallace and Fat Freddy. Excuse me, Special Agent Hessinger. There are self-evident advantages to that for the future.
I will call Hessinger and tell him to come out here with the Opel Kapitän.
Hell, I’ll call Hessinger and tell him to come out here in Major Wallace’s Opel Admiral. After all, Bristol is a light bird and Gehlen a former general. Rank hath its privileges, like getting a ride in the biggest car.
The more he thought about it the more it seemed like a good idea, and that it was one more proof he was on a roll.
“I thought we were through in there,” Stratford said when he saw Cronley start back into the Military Government Liaison Office building.
“I’ve got to make a telephone call. Wait here, or come with me.”
“How do these phones work?” Cronley asked Sergeant Mitchell. “Phrased another way, is Munich a long-distance call or can I dial a Munich number?”
“You can dial a Munich number,” Mitchell said, and handed him a mimeographed telephone book.
Cronley found what he was looking for and dialed it.
“Twenty-Third CIC, Agent Hessinger speaking, sir.”