WW III

moping about home, girlfriends, wives. Rome burns and we wait,” said Freeman disgustedly.

“We could show them movies, sir. Got lots of them. Or go over the rehearsals again.”

“No, not the rehearsals. Hell, we don’t know yet whether we’ve got anything to attack. No, they’ve been over it enough times. Any more, they start thinking they know it all, get stale. That’s dangerous. No, your idea about movies is a good one, Al. Keep morale up.” The general sat down, pulled out his bifocals, as discreetly as possible, and peered up at the map toward Pyongyang, several “Firebird” high-altitude photographs showing there’d been no substantive changes in the AA positions around the North Korean capital in the last twenty-four hours. “Ah, I don’t know, Al. Maybe they’re just sending us this stuff to keep us quiet while they squash the whole idea in Washington. Goddamn it, the plan’s right — all we need is the weather to hold and we could give ‘em such a kick in the ass—” He took off the glasses and dropped them on the desk map. “I ever tell you about that airplane in Canada?”

“No, General.”

The general rubbed his forehead and sat back. “Left Montreal for a place on the prairies. Ran out of gas halfway there at forty thousand feet. Air Canada it was — one of the best safety records in the world—”

“Then how—”

“Metric!” explained Freeman, smiling sardonically up at the captain. “Took off in Montreal, checked the goddamn tanks twice. Converted liters to gallons. Multiplied by the wrong conversion factor. Did it twice, once when it left Montreal, second time after it landed in Ottawa. Then bang — no gas.”

“Jesus, what happened?”

“Started to fall like a goddamn rock, that’s what happened,” said Freeman. “Only thing they had in their favor was the pilot—”and here the general was pointing at Al to drive home the point—”one in a million — had been trained in gliders. Was able to manhandle that brute and slide it toward an abandoned airstrip. Only problem is, he was headed for the wrong airstrip until his copilot, who happened to have lived in the area years before, knew where the right strip was. They brought it down. Undercarriage had no power, so failed to lock. That saved them — otherwise they’d have mowed down about fifty people who used the airstrip as a Sunday runaround. Only casualties occurred when they started going down the escape chutes — two rear ones were too high off the ground. Lot of people got hurt. No fatalities. And all because of metric, Al. Metric. I’ve been triple- checking all of these figures for the attack. Less gasoline we have to carry, more men and ammunition.”

“There a problem?”

Freeman handed him a Xerox of a logistics and supply sheet. “Some ass in Washington did a metric on us. Here — look at this. NATO liaison, you see. Liters instead of gallons. Would have put all the Chinooks into Crap City on empty. How do you like them apples?”

“For cry in’ out loud—”

“I’m going to stay here until all these figures are checked, just in case Washington deigns to let us know what the hell they’re doing. Are they fighting a war or are we going dancing with these bastards?”

“I think you could do with a movie yourself, General.”

“No, but you go ahead, Al. And Al—”

“Yes, General?”

“We have any movies with that Fonda dame in ‘em?”

“I — think so, sir.”

“Throw ‘em overboard.”

“Sir, I—”

“I mean it, goddamn it,” said Freeman, using his folded bifocals as a pointer, his frustration at waiting for word from Washington bubbling to the surface. “I won’t have that female on my ship in any shape or form whatsoever. That understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Al Banks didn’t think it prudent to remind the general that though he was in command of the possible invasion force, it was not his ship to dispose of ship’s property, movies or otherwise. But it did occur to Banks that perhaps he should advise the general of something else: that females, three, in fact, had been in the audience last night as he’d delivered his salty and somewhat profane speech to the troops.

Freeman was appalled. “My God — that’s terrible. Women! In the audience?”

“Yes, sir.”

Freeman’s right hand ran through the graying hair, his left hand with the folded bifocals spreading out in a gesture of utter surprise. “I’d no more swear in front of ladies than—” His head shot up at Al Banks. “What the hell were they doing there?”

“Combat roles, General. Navy choppers. MGUs.”

“What’s that?”

“Mixed-gender units. Supreme Court decision that—”

“By God,” Freeman said, shaking his head, “those old farts have got a lot to answer for, Al.”

“Yes, sir.”

The general was pacing again, hitching up his belt now and then. “What kind of woman would want to fight? I don’t understand it. Delicate creatures that—”

“I don’t understand it either, General, but some of them aren’t so delicate.”

“Huh — well, I suppose you and I qualify as cavemen?” He paused. “Well, as long as they’re in support roles, suppose we have to accept the fact. Long as I don’t have to put up with them in tanks.”

There was silence, the vibrations of the ship noticeable now, the LPH’s roll increasing.

“By God,” said Freeman, his eyes narrowing at Banks, “you’re not going to tell me we lost that one, too? The tanks? Not in the goddamned tanks?”

“Afraid so, General. Supreme Court previously backed off on some combat roles, but they said in a time of national emergency— “

“Good Christ!” bellowed Freeman. “I told Wexler — I don’t want my men riding around with pussy in the front seat. They’ve got enough to look after.”

“I don’t think we have too much to worry about, General. It just came through in the last week. Armored units haven’t got-”

“No,” said Freeman, “and I’ll tell you what. They won’t have. Now, I want you to find out who those females were that I, unknowingly, addressed last night and tell them to come to my cabin.” Freeman grabbed his cap. “On second thought, I’ll go to them. Probably a goddamned Supreme Court decision about them reporting to their commander’s cabin. I’ll be charged with molesting pussy on the high seas!”

* * *

“Ladies,” began Freeman, “I’ve come here this evening to apologize for any profanity I might have used — I, ah, certainly hope I never made any disparaging remarks about your — the opposite sex. Women in general.”

All of them could have been his daughters. For the first time in years he was tongue-tied. “I — uh — that is to say, I never have, never will support the use of, uh, inappropriate language in front of, uh, women or seek to embarrass, uh — I ‘m sorry. That’s all.” With that, Freeman turned, leaving Al Banks, who barely managed to get in a wink at one of the women before he, too, was gone, trying to catch up to the general.

Inside, the three women were looking at one another in astonishment.

“What the fuck was that all about?” one of them asked.

“Don’t ask me,” said another. “I think he’s just old-fashioned. A commander chauvinist pig.”

“Oh,” put in the third chopper pilot, a young, sandy-headed girl with a bachelor of science degree out of Penn State, “I think he’s kinda cute. Besides, I prefer old-fashioned men.”

“Cute!” said one of the other girls.” After his speech? Nothing cute about that, sweetie. He’s probably one of those guys who thinks his prick is a gun.”

“Oh,” said the sandy one, “he’s not that type.”

“Yeah, I know, Sandy. God, flag, the wife and kids. See the wedding band with the West Point ring?”

“That’s what I mean. I like men who have values.”

“It’s one way you could get promoted, I suppose. Or get the clap.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s in command. They say he’s a stickler for details,” said Sandy, turning and looking at the barometer still falling. “And I don’t like the thought of driving through this lot with some young whiz kid directing me from back on ship. I’ll be quite happy to have Freeman up front.”

“If we’re lucky, honey, you won’t have to drive anywhere. Washington’ll kill it before it kills us. I joined to see