Battle Cry - Leon Uris [63]
“Fresno White to Easy, Fresno White to Easy…how do you read me?”
“Easy to Fresno White, five and five…over,” Speedy Gray drawled from the E Company station.
“Fox to Fresno White, five and five, over,” Danny Forrester said.
“George to Fresno White, five and five, over. At the sound of the chimes you shall hear the golden voice of Lament Quincy Jones, the Sinatra of the Corps, who shall render for you…”
“Fresno White to Jones. One of these days somebody is going to be listening to your military procedure and you’re going to be pot walloping the rest of the cruise.”
I walked over to Marion. “Fat boy Jones cutting up again?”
“No, just giving him a test count,” he lied. He test counted Andy in from How Company. Andy’s set was on the bum and the reading was poor, but the best that could be gotten.
A sharp blast of First Sergeant Pucchi’s whistle sent the Marines of Headquarters tumbling from the barrack into the street. “Fall in!”
Lieutenant Bryce, the new company commander, rounded the barracks.
“Tenshun!” barked Pucchi. A sharp pop of heels. Pucchi saluted Bryce. Bryce saluted Pucchi.
“Report!” ordered Bryce.
Again a salute and about face to us.
“Comm platoon present and accounted for,” I said, cutting away my salute.
“Two Section present and accounted for,” Sergeant Paris of Bn 2 barked as he saluted.
“Corpsman present and accounted for,” Pharmacist Mate Pedro Rojas said, giving the usual tired sailor’s salute.
“Bn 4 and utilities present and accounted for,” Sergeant Herman, the quartermaster and most popular man of the outfit, said.
The first sergeant about faced to Lieutenant Bryce. “All present and accounted for, sir.” They saluted each other.
“At ease.” We shifted about trying to ease the weight…and there we stood waiting for fifteen minutes.
“Goddammit,” the Feathermerchant moaned, lowering the radio from his back, “didn’t anybody kiss Huxley and wake him up?”
“There’s a right way and a Marine way.”
“Me no like um white man’s war. Injuns travel light.”
“Fresno White from George. My goddam radio is getting heavy…tell that goddam Major to start the goddam hike before my goddam back breaks.”
“Fresno White from How…ditto.”
Another fifteen minutes passed. Then the jeeps came flying up the main street and pulled to a sudden stop before us.
“Ah, we can start the war. The brass has arrived.”
Major Sam Huxley and his staff debarked from the jeeps. The parade of gold and silver in the morning sun reflected against our eyes: Marine Gunner Keats, the communications officer; Captain Marlin, operations and training; Doc Kyser, the battalion surgeon; Major Wellman, the exec officer; the intelligence officer; and the one and only Major Sam Huxley.
They arrayed themselves before us. Well…as long as we have to have officers to fight a war, I thought, the Marine officers were the best of the lot.
We once again went through the procedure of reporting and saluting. Keats then marched over to Marion. “Message center,” he called. Corporal Banks trotted over and handed him a message pad. Gunner Keats wrote out a message and handed it to Sister Mary.
“All companies from Fresno White. Stand by to move out. George Company assume the point of march, over.”
“Roger…and it’s about time…out.”
In a moment the Marines of George Company moved past us, cut left to the boondocks and the skipper barked an order. “Second platoon, take the advance party…first squad take the point!” The men of the second platoon double timed ahead of the rest of the company and fanned out. Far out in front, the battalion scout held up his rifle for them to halt as the advance party took up its position, forming an arrowhead around the battalion. The scout turned and dropped his right arm in the signal ‘Forward’ and George Company moved out.
“Fox from Fresno White…move out, over.”
“Fresno White from Fox, roger, out.”
In open route formation, Fox moved past us, led by the skipper, the exec and the first sergeant. Then came the officer