Free Command Decision by William Wister Haines Page B

puke today, bad as it was.
    “I made it eleven.”
    “So did I,” said Garnett. “What’s squadron strength?”
    “Twelve, if it was a squadron.”
    Kane blenched visibly. “That isn’t the remains of a Group, is it, Casey?”
    “I can’t tell yet, sir.”
    Kane exploded: “Well, find out! Find out at once.”
    Dennis had to check himself. Kane was not as used to this as he was. Without risking a reply he strode rapidly through the Ops room door and closed it behind him. The room quieted; the vibration of this particular bunch was lost now in the gentle sea of lesser vibrations coming from every side as the remainder of the Division converged around the other near-by bases.
    With the departure of Dennis, Kane took a conscious grip on himself and turned from the window to Garnett, who was still staring out speechless at what he had seen.
    “Cliff, what will Washington think of this?”
    It took Cliff several seconds to clear that spectacle from his mind. When he had done it he measured his words gravely.
    “I wish they’d had some preparation, sir.”
    “I never dreamed Casey would be so… so impetuous.”
    “Can you reach Washington by telephone, sir?”
    “Not from here. I can by teleprinter from Joe Endicott’s division, forty miles from here. Cliff, you don’t think a… a misfortune now could really affect overall allocation, do you?”
    Garnett thought aloud: “Two successive loss records… 20 to 25 percent… with no warning…”
    “We’ll have claims though… records claims. The Chief loves those.”
    “I’m not thinking of our Chief, sir.”
    He was spared further consideration for the moment by Prescott, who hurried in, and by Brockhurst, who sauntered slowly after.
    “Sir, Brockie has some ideas I think you should hear.”
    “All right, Brockie. Tell us frankly.”
    Brockhurst studied Kane’s evident agitation and let him wait a little. He still resented his eviction from the military council. He had kept the secrets of bigger men than Kane and he was always infuriated by the army’s assumption that no one out of uniform was trustworthy.
    From Prescott he had learned all he needed to know about the Jenks case; but he was after bigger game. He needed Kane’s help and he wanted Kane to understand that he was going to help.
    “You want it rough or smooth, R. G.?” he asked quietly.
    “Let’s have it.”
    “Your neck’s out a foot.”
    “ My neck…?”
    “It’s your baby unless you can buck it up to the Hemisphere Commander. You’ve got a hero to court-martial and you’ve got losses that’ll sound like Verdun in America. You’ve let this Secret Security Policy of yours keep the whole deal so dark it’s going to look like a cover for the worst blunder since Pearl Harbor. After all, the public makes these bombers and sends you these kids, it’s got a right to know…”
    He stopped as Dennis hurried in from the Ops room still smoldering with suppressed anger. The very force of it made even Kane glance at him apprehensively; his voice was oddly conciliatory.
    “Casey, Elmer here is giving us his reaction. I want you to hear it.”
    “He knows it,” said Brockhurst. “I tried to warn him that the press and public…”
    “Press and public be goddamned,” said Dennis. “Your syndicate would ambush a whole division for one headline and then print enough crocodile tears to keep us from ever making a useful attack again.”
    “When did we ever…?”
    “After Bremfurt. We needed a second attack to finish that job. By the time you got done with our losses and Washington got done explaining your insinuations, we got an order that it was politically impossible to attack the place again. Politically impossible! Some of our boys were killed today with cannon made at Bremfurt since that attack.”
    Brockhurst subsided. It was useless to explain now that he himself had been heartily ashamed of what his people had made of that unfortunate episode. Kane turned aside the