[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
specifically ordered not to talk about. On the other hand, if the C-46 was
needed to fly to Africa, the commander probably was just the guy they needed,
someone with a lot of experience in flying great distances where there would
be no navigational aids worth speaking about. He had probably, Canidy thought,
been selected for just that reason. Doug lass had requested from the
Navy-which really meant Eddie Bitter's Vice Admiral Hawley-the best C-46 they
had and the best crew to fly it. Hawley had provided a nearly new C-46 and the
commander. But after a minute, when he thought about it, having the commander
get his ass chewed-however delightful a prospect that was-was not worth the
risk of the bastard compromising the mission by running off at the mouth. He
decided he would have to mention this to Colonel Stevens. "Our minds run in
similar paths," Stevens said with a smile. "I was just thinking that I should
talk with the commander and give him the 'loose lips sink ships' speech
suitably revised for the circumstances." When theydanded at Croydon, they sat
on the taxiway for fifteen minutes before the tower directed them to a hangar
some distance from the terminal building. There a small caravan of vehicles
was waiting for them: an English limousine with its fenders outlined in white
reflective paint; an Army three-quarter-ton truck; and four American Ford
staff cars.
The moment the plane door opened, Canidy realized he was back in the war.
There was a familiar, pervasive odor of burning and open sewage.
The smell of burning he remembered from Burma and China. It was the aftermath
of bombing. The sewers had already been open in Burma and China. Here the
smell came from sewers ruptured by bombs.
Two colonels wearing the SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary
Force) patch spoke briefly with Colonel Stevens, who then came back on the
airplane and said that he was going to take Admiral de Verbey with them, and
Canidy should come along to the Dorchester with the others when the plane had
been unloaded. The limousine, preceded and trailed by two of the Ford staff
cars, each occupied by three men wearing U.S. Army uniforms with civilian
technician insignia,' drove off into the rain.
When the truck had been loaded, the remaining Fords drove them into London.
Almost immediately they saw signs of the bombing. There were fire-scarred
holes, like missing teeth, where German bombs had landed on row houses. They
passed a bomb crater from which the rear of "An embroidered blue triangle with
the letters "US,' worn sewn to the lapels. a bus still protruded, and when
they got to the Dorchester Hotel, the entrance was piled high with sandbags,
Canidy saw there remnants of what must have been prewar splendor-there was an
elaborately uniformed doorman in a top bat, and small uniformed boys who came
out to unload the truck-but the hotel was war-tarnished, and the lobby was
crowded with headquarters types. One of the civilian technicians from Croydon
was waiting for them inside, and led them to an elevator. There was another
civilian technician sitting at a small desk in the corridor of the sixth
floor, barring access to the wing where Colonel Stevens, alone, was waiting
for them. The civilian technician who had met them in the lobby was introduced
as Mr. Zigler of the Counterintelligence Corps. Zigler told him that he would
be responsible for Admiral de Verbey until Canidy felt that the security of
Whitby House was such that he could take over. Zigler explained that after a
survey of the estate, he'd made certain recommendations for its security. The
first elements of the infantry battalion had begun arriving that morning "If
you feel up to it, Dick," Stevens said, "I thought you might go out there
Page 165
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
first thing in the morning You could drop Martin and Fulmar off at Station IX
on your way. There will be a car for you here at eight o'clock. 7) "Fine,"
Canidy agreed, although he would have preferred to sleep for twenty-four
hours, Stevens, Canidy, and Whittaker had a room-service dinner with Admiral
de Verbey in the three-room suite provided for him. The service was shabbily
elegant, Canidy thought, and the portions very small. He had ordered roast
beef, envisioning a juicy slice of rib. He got a two-inch-square, tough chunk
of overdone meat. During the dinner, Colonel Stevens told the admiral politely
but firmly it would be best if he didn't leave his suite or contact anyone
while he was in London. The admiral seemed resigned to whatever indignities
the OSS had planned for him. Canidy felt a little sorry for him. Breakfast in
the hotel dining room was much like dinner.
The coffee-and they were allowed only one cup-was watery, the jam for the
single piece of cold toast was artificial, and the scrambled eggs were
powdered But precisely at eight o'clock a bellboy wearing a round hat cocked
over his eye like Johnny in the Phillip Morris advertisements came into the
dining room paging Canidy by holding up a slate on a pole with "Major Canidy"
written on it. "Your car and driver are here, Sir," he announced when Canidy
waved him over. The car was a Plymouth sedan driven by a GI. Even with some of
their luggage on the front seat, the trunk would not close over the rest of
it, and it had to be tied closed with twine. They made it that way, however,
to Station IX. Canidy found the British Special Operations Executive training
school officers to be an insufferably smug collection of bastards who made no
effort to conceal their "superiority" over their American cousins. The
lieutenant colonel in charge told Canidy and Whittaker in great detail what
was planned for "your young chaps." What was planned that didn't sound
childish sounded sadistic, and Canidy toyed for a few minutes with the notion
of somehow rescuing Fulmar and Martin from the Englishman before he realized
that was out of the question. And so was telling the Englishman that Fulmar
had lived among the Berber tribesmen of Morocco-some of the most vicious
fighters in the world-long enough to be accepted as one of them. He was also
tempted to tell the English officer-a parachutist who made it plain that
parachuting was an exclusively English specialty@a story that Fulmar had told
him: At the OSS school in Virginia, Martin had given his own high-altitude
jump trainees a long moment's horror by "falling out" of his harness and, with
a bloodcurdling scream, dropping out of sight, It turned out that he did not
become hamburger. He had hidden a second reserve chute under his field jacket,
and was waiting, smiling broadly, immensely pleased with himself, when they
themselves had landed. Martin had made sixty-odd jumps, which Canidy suspected
was far more than any of the Englishmen who were going to teach him how it
should be done had made.
The temptation to tell the colonel that story was great, but he resisted it,
and he went even further in the interest of hands across the sea: he told both
Fulmar and Martin, as sternly as he could, that they were to keep their eyes
open and their mouths shut and absolutely no fucking around with their English
hosts.
When he and Whittaker went outside to get in the Plymouth to be taken to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
specifically ordered not to talk about. On the other hand, if the C-46 was
needed to fly to Africa, the commander probably was just the guy they needed,
someone with a lot of experience in flying great distances where there would
be no navigational aids worth speaking about. He had probably, Canidy thought,
been selected for just that reason. Doug lass had requested from the
Navy-which really meant Eddie Bitter's Vice Admiral Hawley-the best C-46 they
had and the best crew to fly it. Hawley had provided a nearly new C-46 and the
commander. But after a minute, when he thought about it, having the commander
get his ass chewed-however delightful a prospect that was-was not worth the
risk of the bastard compromising the mission by running off at the mouth. He
decided he would have to mention this to Colonel Stevens. "Our minds run in
similar paths," Stevens said with a smile. "I was just thinking that I should
talk with the commander and give him the 'loose lips sink ships' speech
suitably revised for the circumstances." When theydanded at Croydon, they sat
on the taxiway for fifteen minutes before the tower directed them to a hangar
some distance from the terminal building. There a small caravan of vehicles
was waiting for them: an English limousine with its fenders outlined in white
reflective paint; an Army three-quarter-ton truck; and four American Ford
staff cars.
The moment the plane door opened, Canidy realized he was back in the war.
There was a familiar, pervasive odor of burning and open sewage.
The smell of burning he remembered from Burma and China. It was the aftermath
of bombing. The sewers had already been open in Burma and China. Here the
smell came from sewers ruptured by bombs.
Two colonels wearing the SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary
Force) patch spoke briefly with Colonel Stevens, who then came back on the
airplane and said that he was going to take Admiral de Verbey with them, and
Canidy should come along to the Dorchester with the others when the plane had
been unloaded. The limousine, preceded and trailed by two of the Ford staff
cars, each occupied by three men wearing U.S. Army uniforms with civilian
technician insignia,' drove off into the rain.
When the truck had been loaded, the remaining Fords drove them into London.
Almost immediately they saw signs of the bombing. There were fire-scarred
holes, like missing teeth, where German bombs had landed on row houses. They
passed a bomb crater from which the rear of "An embroidered blue triangle with
the letters "US,' worn sewn to the lapels. a bus still protruded, and when
they got to the Dorchester Hotel, the entrance was piled high with sandbags,
Canidy saw there remnants of what must have been prewar splendor-there was an
elaborately uniformed doorman in a top bat, and small uniformed boys who came
out to unload the truck-but the hotel was war-tarnished, and the lobby was
crowded with headquarters types. One of the civilian technicians from Croydon
was waiting for them inside, and led them to an elevator. There was another
civilian technician sitting at a small desk in the corridor of the sixth
floor, barring access to the wing where Colonel Stevens, alone, was waiting
for them. The civilian technician who had met them in the lobby was introduced
as Mr. Zigler of the Counterintelligence Corps. Zigler told him that he would
be responsible for Admiral de Verbey until Canidy felt that the security of
Whitby House was such that he could take over. Zigler explained that after a
survey of the estate, he'd made certain recommendations for its security. The
first elements of the infantry battalion had begun arriving that morning "If
you feel up to it, Dick," Stevens said, "I thought you might go out there
Page 165
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
first thing in the morning You could drop Martin and Fulmar off at Station IX
on your way. There will be a car for you here at eight o'clock. 7) "Fine,"
Canidy agreed, although he would have preferred to sleep for twenty-four
hours, Stevens, Canidy, and Whittaker had a room-service dinner with Admiral
de Verbey in the three-room suite provided for him. The service was shabbily
elegant, Canidy thought, and the portions very small. He had ordered roast
beef, envisioning a juicy slice of rib. He got a two-inch-square, tough chunk
of overdone meat. During the dinner, Colonel Stevens told the admiral politely
but firmly it would be best if he didn't leave his suite or contact anyone
while he was in London. The admiral seemed resigned to whatever indignities
the OSS had planned for him. Canidy felt a little sorry for him. Breakfast in
the hotel dining room was much like dinner.
The coffee-and they were allowed only one cup-was watery, the jam for the
single piece of cold toast was artificial, and the scrambled eggs were
powdered But precisely at eight o'clock a bellboy wearing a round hat cocked
over his eye like Johnny in the Phillip Morris advertisements came into the
dining room paging Canidy by holding up a slate on a pole with "Major Canidy"
written on it. "Your car and driver are here, Sir," he announced when Canidy
waved him over. The car was a Plymouth sedan driven by a GI. Even with some of
their luggage on the front seat, the trunk would not close over the rest of
it, and it had to be tied closed with twine. They made it that way, however,
to Station IX. Canidy found the British Special Operations Executive training
school officers to be an insufferably smug collection of bastards who made no
effort to conceal their "superiority" over their American cousins. The
lieutenant colonel in charge told Canidy and Whittaker in great detail what
was planned for "your young chaps." What was planned that didn't sound
childish sounded sadistic, and Canidy toyed for a few minutes with the notion
of somehow rescuing Fulmar and Martin from the Englishman before he realized
that was out of the question. And so was telling the Englishman that Fulmar
had lived among the Berber tribesmen of Morocco-some of the most vicious
fighters in the world-long enough to be accepted as one of them. He was also
tempted to tell the English officer-a parachutist who made it plain that
parachuting was an exclusively English specialty@a story that Fulmar had told
him: At the OSS school in Virginia, Martin had given his own high-altitude
jump trainees a long moment's horror by "falling out" of his harness and, with
a bloodcurdling scream, dropping out of sight, It turned out that he did not
become hamburger. He had hidden a second reserve chute under his field jacket,
and was waiting, smiling broadly, immensely pleased with himself, when they
themselves had landed. Martin had made sixty-odd jumps, which Canidy suspected
was far more than any of the Englishmen who were going to teach him how it
should be done had made.
The temptation to tell the colonel that story was great, but he resisted it,
and he went even further in the interest of hands across the sea: he told both
Fulmar and Martin, as sternly as he could, that they were to keep their eyes
open and their mouths shut and absolutely no fucking around with their English
hosts.
When he and Whittaker went outside to get in the Plymouth to be taken to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]