"Not all of them. I hope I won"t break your heart when I tell you the Air Force really doesn"t own the skies or everything that flies."
"Those are the first credentials like that I ever saw," the major said.
"There"s not very many of them around," Cronley said.
"How can I be of service to the Directorate of Central Intelligence?"
"Don"t say that out loud, for one thing," Cronley said, smiling.
"Okay," the major said, returning the smile. "And aside from that?"
"I need to get the Storchs fueled and on their way as soon as possible."
"On their way and out of sight?" the major asked.
"That, too."
"That I can do. I"ll have a fuel truck come out here."
"And then I have to be in that crowd welcoming General White back to Germany."
"Quite a crowd," the major said, gesturing around the field at all the L-4s. "I would say that every other colonel and lieutenant colonel in the Constabulary is here to watch General White get off the plane."
"So I see. But the skies will fall and the world as we know it will end if we"re not standing there when the general gets off the plane."
He pointed to Dunwiddie in the Storch.
"Well, I wouldn"t want that on my conscience. I"ll make you a deal. I"ve never been close to a Storch before. If you can arrange a tour for me of one of those airplanes, I"ll take you over there in my jeep."
"Deal," Cronley said.
He waved at Max Ostrowski to get out of his Storch, and then called, "Captain Dunwiddie, you may deplane."
"Yes, sir?" Ostrowski asked.
"The major is going to take Captain Dunwiddie and me over there. He"s also going to get a fuel truck sent here. When he comes back, show him around the Storch. Then as soon as you"re fueled, you and Kurt head for home. I"ll get word to you there what happens next."
"Yes, sir."
Cronley saw the major had picked up on Ostrowski"s British accent. But he didn"t say anything.
The major motioned for Cronley to get in the jeep. Cronley motioned for Dunwiddie to get in the jeep.
"After thinking it over," Dunwiddie said, "I"ve decided you"re ent.i.tled to the benefit of the doubt."
Cronley nodded, but didn"t say anything.
Almost as soon as the jeep started moving, the radio in the jeep went off: "Attention, all concerned personnel. The VIP bird has landed."
"I"m not surprised," Cronley said. "I am famous for my ability to make the world follow my schedule."
The major laughed.
As they got close to where the VIP bird would apparently be, they were waved to a stop by a sergeant of the U.S. Constabulary. He was wearing a glossily painted helmet liner bearing the Constabulary "Circle C" insignia, and glistening leather accoutrements, a Sam Browne belt, to which was attached a glistening pistol holster, and spare magazine holsters.
"End of the line," the major said.
"Thanks," Cronley said, offering his hand.
When he got out of the jeep, he remembered to salute.
A lieutenant and a sergeant marched up to them. They, too, wore the natty Constabulary dress uniform, and the sergeant held a clipboard.
The lieutenant saluted crisply.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he said. "May I have your names, please?"
"If that"s a roster of some kind," Cronley said, "I don"t think we"re on it."
"Excuse me, sir," the lieutenant said. "I didn"t see the patch."
What the h.e.l.l is he talking about?
""h.e.l.l on Wheels" comrades are in the rear rank of those greeting General White," the lieutenant said. "Senior officers and personal friends are in the first rank. If you"ll follow the sergeant, please?"
Aha! He saw the 2nd Armored patch on Tiny"s shoulder. That"s what he"s talking about!
They followed the sergeant with the clipboard toward the reception area.
There they were met by a Constabulary major.
They exchanged salutes.
"h.e.l.l on Wheels comrades in the rear rank, by rank," the major said, pointing to two ranks of people lined up.
"Yes, sir," Tiny said. "Thank you, sir."
I think I have this ceremony figured out.
Majors and up and personal friends are in the front row.
Anybody who served under General White in the 2nd "h.e.l.l on Wheels" Armored Division is a "comrade"-which, considering our relationship with the Soviet Union, seems to be an unfortunate choice of words-and is in the rear row.
Tiny belongs in the front row, and I don"t belong here at all, but this is not the time to bring that up.
What I"ll try to do is pa.s.s myself off as a comrade.
They found themselves about three-quarters of the way down the rear rank, between a major wearing a 2nd Armored Division patch and a first sergeant. Cronley guessed there were forty-odd, maybe fifty-odd, people in each rank.
They had just taken their positions when a Douglas C-54 transport with MILITARY AIR TRANSPORT SERVICE lettered along its fuselage taxied up. In the side window of the c.o.c.kpit was a red plate with two silver stars on it.
The band started playing.
That"s "Garry Owen." The song of the 7th Cavalry Regiment.
I know that because I was trained to be a cavalry officer and they played it often enough at College Station to make us aware of our cavalry heritage.
And where I learned that the 7th Cavalry, Brevet Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer commanding, got wiped out to the last man at the Battle of the Little Big Horn.
I"ve never quite figured out how getting his regiment wiped out to the last man made Custer a hero.
The mobile stairs were rolled up to the rear door of the C-54.
The door opened.
A woman with a babe in arms appeared in the doorway, and then started down the stairs.
She was followed by fifteen more women, and about that many officers and non-coms, who were quickly ushered into the buses waiting for them.
Clever intelligence officer that I am, I deduce that the airplane"s primary purpose was to fly dependents over here. Dependents and officers and non-coms who were needed here as soon as possible. General White was just one more pa.s.senger.
Is there a first-cla.s.s compartment on Air Force transports?
The procession came to an end.
The band stopped playing.
A stocky, muscular officer in woolen ODs appeared in the aircraft door. There were two stars pinned to his "overseas cap."
The band started playing "Garry Owen" again.
People in the ranks began to applaud.
Someone bellowed "Atten-hut!"
Cronley saw that it was a full colonel standing facing the two ranks of greeters.
When the applause died, the colonel did a crisp about-face movement and saluted.
The major general at the head of the stairs returned it crisply.
That is one tough sonofab.i.t.c.h.
The tough sonofab.i.t.c.h turned and then with great care helped a motherly-looking woman down the stairs.
They then disappeared from sight.
Three minutes later, the general appeared, now shaking hands with the major standing ahead of Cronley in the comrades and personal friends rank. He was trailed by the woman and a handful of aides.
They disappeared again to reappear sixty seconds or so later, now in front of Captain Dunwiddie.
"Chauncey, I"m delighted to see you!" the general said. "Honey, look who"s here! Chauncey!"
The woman stood on her toes and kissed Captain Dunwiddie.
Major General I.D. White looked at Captain Cronley.
"You are, Captain?"
"Cronley, sir. James D. Junior."
"You hear that, Paul?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bingo!"
"Yes, sir."
"Correct me if I"m wrong. What"s next is that I go to make my manners to General Eisenhower . . ."
"To General Smith, sir. General Eisenhower is in Berlin."
"Okay. And Mrs. White goes to the bahnhof to get on my train?"
"Yes, sir."
"Put these two in the car with her," General White ordered.
"Yes, sir."
General White stepped in front of the first sergeant standing next to Cronley.
"How are you, Charley?" he asked. "Good to see you."
[SEVEN].
Dining Compartment, Car #1 Personal Train of the Commanding General, U.S. Constabulary Track 3, Hauptbahnhof Frankfurt am Main American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1305 17 January 1946 Captains Cronley and Dunwiddie rose when Major General White walked into the dining compartment trailed by two aides.
"Sit," he said.