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The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [88]

By Root 1500 0
anyone from sleeping in the stifling misery of their quarters belowdecks. Nimitz focused now on the faces closest to him, as he had on the ship. He saw the same faces he had seen at sea, fatigued, sad eyes, men going about their jobs with automatic movements, no joking, no laughter. Low morale was as obvious here on the island as it had been on the ship. It was not a surprise. Nimitz knew that the loss of President Roosevelt had certainly cast a heavy dose of gloom among the troops everywhere, but then, there had been one more dreadful surprise, news of a completely unexpected tragedy. Nimitz received the word, as had every commander in the theater, that on April 18 newspaper columnist Ernie Pyle had been killed while accompanying a patrol of the Seventy-seventh Infantry Division on one of the smaller islands offshore. Nimitz knew that the president’s death would have a far more profound effect on the conduct of the war. But the loss of Ernie Pyle would have a devastating effect on the men in the ranks. Of all the reporters who had accompanied the troops in all theaters of the war, Pyle was by far the most beloved. From North Africa to Europe and now to the Pacific, the columns Pyle sent back home had humanized the troops by telling their stories directly, experiences comical, absurd, and tragic. He gave the troops their own voice, when most other reporters were far more interested in snuggling up to the brass. By naming them and offering a nod to their hometowns, Pyle had sent a reassuring hand back to relatives who might otherwise never know of the fate of their own, since mail service took far longer than Pyle’s own dispatches. Everywhere he went, Pyle obliged as many of the troops as he could, moving among the men with his trademark typewriter slung over his shoulder, offering good cheer and an eagerness to listen that the average GI had found nowhere else.

Nimitz still returned the stares, hard, cold eyes, thought, that’s what this is. So many of these men are veterans, have seen these islands come and go, have faced a viciousness in the Japanese that none of us expected. They’re losing friends in every fight, and Ernie Pyle made himself a friend to every one of these men. Damn it all, I want this fight to end.

“Ah, Admiral, welcome! Sorry, I was just dealing with a … radio matter. Messages coming in from offshore. Admiral Turner is checking on you, making sure your party arrived safely. I don’t hear much from him, you know. Prefer it that way. Not that he’s a pest or anything. It’s just that … well, his communications can be … well …”

Buckner was digging himself into a hole, and Nimitz held up both hands, said, “I understand, General. No need for explanations.”

“Ah, General Vandegrift, welcome! Congratulations are in order. Welcome to the thin air at the top, if I do say. Please, I may not be the first, but I’ll shake your hand, if you’ll allow it.”

“Thank you, General. I’m at your service.”

The pleasantries were already strained, Nimitz wanting to move into whatever passed for Buckner’s headquarters, Buckner’s obvious cheerfulness a poor mask for his anxiety that Nimitz had come to Okinawa in the first place. Buckner was a huge bear of a man, roughly Nimitz’s age, a shock of white hair over deep blue eyes. Buckner was more fanatical about physical fitness than Nimitz was, something Nimitz admired. But there were extremes to Buckner’s devotion to the conditioning of his men. It was one of the major gripes that came from the men who served him, that the general had put even the older officers through so much rigorous exercise that throughout the Tenth Army the senior command suffered from constant physical injuries. Nimitz had heard that some of the meetings resembled hospital wards, generals with various joints wrapped in gauze or hard casts.

He followed Buckner, glanced at the stiff-backed MPs who stood guard, grim-faced men who reminded Nimitz of his own Marine guard on Guam. He turned over the name in his head, Turner, the admiral who now held overall command around the Okinawan operation. Turner had remained

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