The Steel Wave - Jeff Shaara [54]
The scowl returned, the humor gone completely. Patton turned away.
“I’ve had enough of this. What moron thinks anyone will be fooled by this stupidity? Tanks you can bust up with a BB gun? Empty tents? The only one deceived is that damned bull. Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’ve not known many cattle that possessed vastly superior intellect.”
He walked quickly away from the others, back toward the one solid building on the grounds, realizing MacLeod was keeping pace with him.
The colonel said in a low voice, “If I may speak with you privately, General?”
Patton stared straight ahead, would not look at the rubber tanks, the long rows of tents. He knew MacLeod to be a good man and could not just ignore him. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “They have lunch around here, or is that fake too?”
“The radio traffic out of my headquarters has been steady, and frankly, sir, we’re pretty impressed with the results. We know Jerry is listening, and there has already been one air raid against one of our transmitting stations. That was a very pleasing result, especially since no one was injured.”
Patton listened, took a bite from a sandwich, tried to find some flavor in the nondescript meat. MacLeod continued.
“We’ve been broadcasting all manner of innocuous snippets, including requisitions for cold-weather gear, ski fittings, snow boots, everything an army would need to prepare for a landing in Norway.”
Patton swallowed. “You really think it’s working, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I do. With all respect, sir, there is one enormous advantage in our favor. The Jerries want to believe this. They want to believe we are going into Norway and Calais. It makes logical strategic sense. We know Hitler has kept Norway occupied by more than a quarter million troops, and every indication is that they’re staying put. That’s a stunning accomplishment, sir, stunning. Consider if those troops were suddenly moved to Normandy, how events might be turned, the scale be tipped. They believe they have discovered our real intentions because it fits with what they want us to do. That’s why Fortitude will work. If I didn’t believe that, I would feel very much as you do. I don’t especially relish wasting what remains of my career commanding ghosts.”
Patton finished the sandwich and swirled cold coffee in his mouth. He knew MacLeod was a veteran of the First World War and had been heavily decorated, something Patton had to respect. He pointed to the man’s head. “I hear you carry some metal around with you.”
MacLeod seemed frustrated at the distraction. “Yes, sir. Steel plate in my skull. Pretty extensive actually, a rather serious wound.”
“This is a hell of a way to reward a hero. You don’t feel they’re just sticking you out to pasture?” Patton thought of the bull. “So to speak.”
“I was already out to pasture. There wasn’t much for a beat-up old soldier to do. Frankly, I thought they had forgotten about me. This assignment is an honor. If it works, it may change the entire war.”
“If it works.”
“Dammit, General!”
Patton was surprised, MacLeod showing a flash of temper. The colonel calmed himself, and Patton thought, He’s sticking up for himself. Good. He saw that MacLeod had ignored his lunch and pushed his own plate away.
“Listen, Colonel. I thought Ike brought me to England so I could kick some Kraut asses. Every day I hear promises about, yeah, well, all that will come later. First I have to stand in a field watching bulls hump phony trucks. Ike knows I should have stayed in Italy. I could have done a whole lot more at Salerno or Anzio than Clark or anyone else. So instead we’re stuck in molasses down there, getting chewed up every day because no one knows how to take a fight to the enemy! But I can’t bitch too much about that because I know Ike’s out on a limb for me. There’s a bunch of Brits and a few Americans who’d love to see my ass hanging in the breeze. All right, fine. I know how to follow orders, so here I am, following them. But I don’t have to like it. And I don’t. I have no idea if this plan will work.