“Under the circumstances, Captain,” he said, “I’ll choose not to consider that a smart-ass remark.”
—
Five minutes later, a first lieutenant whom Cronley could not remember having seen before walked up to their table and saluted. He wore a zippered “Tanker Jacket” to which were sewn Liaison Pilot wings and a shoulder insignia—a circle of Cavalry yellow, in which was the letter “C” with a diagonal lightning bolt through it.
“Sir, Colonel Wilson said you need a ride.”
“Not me,” Mattingly said as he quickly—and Cronley belatedly—returned his salute. “The captain here needs a ride to Munich.”
“Yes, sir. Not a problem. It’s right on my way. I’m headed to Sonthofen.”
“Be gentle with him, Lieutenant,” Mattingly said. “The captain doesn’t like to fly.”
The lieutenant, looking a little uneasy, said, “Yes, sir. If you’ll come with me, sir?”
Jimmy stood and looked down at Mattingly, wondering if he was supposed to salute.
Mattingly answered the question by getting to his feet and putting out his hand.
“If I somehow forgot to say this earlier, Jimmy, I’m very sorry for your loss and greatly admire the way you’re handling it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
[ TWO ]
Supreme Headquarters, Allied European Forces
I.G. Farben Building
Frankfurt am Main, American Zone, Occupied Germany
1045 28 October 1945
Colonel Robert Mattingly returned the salute of the two natty paratroopers of the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment on ceremonial guard at the entrance of the building and entered the lobby. He walked past the sea of red general officers’ personal flags—in the center of which was the red flag with five stars in a circle of General of the Army Dwight D. Eisenhower—and stepped onto the right of the two devices he thought of as the dumbwaiters.
He had no idea of the proper nomenclature of the devices that moved people up (the right one) and down (the left one) in the largest office building in Europe. They functioned by constantly moving small platforms onto which passengers stepped on and off.
In 1941, I.G. Farben G.m.b.H. had been the fourth largest corporation in the world, after General Motors, U.S. Steel, and Standard Oil of New Jersey. Eisenhower had decided, early on, that he wanted the building as his headquarters. With great difficulty, the enormous structure had been spared damage by the thousand bomber raids that had reduced most of Frankfurt to rubble.
Mattingly, ascending upon what he now idly thought could probably be called the “vertical personnel transport device,” arrived at the fifth floor. It was his intention to call upon Brigadier General H. Paul Greene, chief, Counterintelligence, European Command, whom he hoped to deceive sufficiently to get him off the backs of the XXIIIrd and XXVIIth CIC detachments—and off himself personally.
The last time Mattingly had seen Greene, who was de jure but not de facto his immediate superior, Greene had ordered him to consider himself under arrest for disobedience of a direct order. The one-star released him from arrest only after Mattingly had threatened to bring their disagreement to the personal attention of General Eisenhower.
There was a very good chance, Mattingly understood, that he would again find himself under arrest today. But that chance had to be taken.
He stepped off the dumbwaiter and marched purposefully down the marble-floored corridor to General Greene’s suite of offices.
When he entered the outer office, a major and a master sergeant looked up from their desks. The master sergeant then stood.
“Good morning,” Mattingly said. “I’m here to see General Greene.”
“I’ll see if the general is free, sir,” the major said, and reached for his telephone.
“Just to clear the air between us, Major: That was an announcement of intention. As deputy commander, CIC, I don’t need your permission to see the general. Perhaps you might wish to write that down.”
Mattingly marched to, and through, the doorway to General Greene’s office, then up to his desk. The major hurriedly followed him to the doorway.
Mattingly came to attention and saluted.