down the passageway.
'Shee-it,' Dixie said wonderingly. 'What gives with Made It, Tombstone?'
'I don't know, Dixie.' Worse, he didn't know how to find out. The problem was something personal, but what? Bayerly's mention of the medal suggested jealousy, but such petty motivation seemed totally out of keeping with the man's solid record for professionalism. Tombstone watched Bayerly's stocky form retreating down the seemingly endless succession of cross-passageway frames and wondered how he could clear the air between them.
Probably, what Bayerly needed most was time. Tombstone decided to approach him again, but later, after things had settled out a bit. Maybe after the Jefferson reached Thailand…
CHAPTER 4
'Gooooood evening, Jeffersons!' Master Chief Raymond C. Buckley, Jr., beamed into the camera and delivered his best Pat Sajak imitation from the lectern set up as his number-one prop in the television broadcast he made twice each day to the carrier's crew. The room, called CVIC ? pronounced 'civic' ? for Carrier (CV) Information Center, also served as one of Jefferson's television studios. Banks of lights glared at him from three directions as he launched into the familiar patter. 'This is the Chief of the Boat, coming' at you with another edition of What's the Gouge…'
The master chief of a modern supercarrier was the one direct link between the enlisted crew and the ship's officers, known by all, respected by all, likely to turn up almost anywhere within Jefferson's two-thousand-plus compartments and passageways with a friendly word or good advice. Captain James Fitzgerald, the ship's Commanding Officer, and Captain Vincent C.
Glover, the ship's Exec, depended on Buckley to know how the crew was feeling, could count on him for an honest assessment of a man up for captain's mast on some minor charge… or for word about unpleasant racial tensions in the engine room. On the other side of the tracks, enlisted men depended on Buckley for the straight word, the 'gouge' as it was known, on what was happening in a world where individual crewmen had very little control over their own lives and destinies.
More often than not, the sheer, overwhelming uncertainty of a deployment at sea was the worst part of the cruise. Would there be liberty at the next port? Would families be allowed to visit next time the ship was in Japan?
That was one of the reasons for What's the Gouge. The ship's closed-circuit television programming was one of the best ways there was to keep the crew informed.
'There's been a lot of wild scuttlebutt going around about our next port of call,' Buckley said, leaning against the lectern and staring into the camera's eye. 'And there have been even wilder stories going around about just what it is we're supposed to do there!'
The red light on the camera winked off as a second camera picked up the scene. A TV monitor to one side faded from an image of Buckley's smiling face to a map of Southeast Asia.
'You all know where we're bound for, of course,' Buckley said. 'Some of you old hands out there know our next port of call real well. Bangkok!'
He grinned as he heard a distant, low-voiced murmur, almost a rumble which echoed down Jefferson's steel passageways. A few hundred men were cheering and whooping in the TV lounge a deck down and several frames aft…
and that cheer was being repeated throughout the ship. Bangkok had a certain reputation…
'The rumors have been flying though as to whether or not there's going to be liberty in Thailand. The insurrection in the northern part of the country has been getting worse, and in the past few weeks there have been student riots and uprisings in Bangkok itself.
'Well, I'm here to give you the word straight from the Captain. There's going to be liberty. Things are quiet in Bangkok right now. Order has been restored in the streets. The way things are shaping up we're going to be visiting the jewel of Southeast Asia for ten days-' The distant thunder redoubled, and several of the men standing off- camera in the CVIC provided appropriate sound effects by applauding and whistling.
It took several seconds more to restore order in CVIC. Liberty was always a subject of keen interest on board ship, a break in the shipboard routine at sea where day followed day with a mind-numbing sameness. The average sailor in Jefferson's crew was nineteen years old; for him, a taste of the exotic eased the bite of homesickness.
The noise in the room subsided, and Buckley laughed. 'I can tell a lot of you already know something about where we're going. If I can get your one-track minds off girls for a moment, though, let me tell you something about the place.'
He began giving a travelogue-style presentation about the country, referring occasionally to note cards on the podium in front of him. Buckley had been fascinated by the fact that Thailand, alone of the nations in Southeast Asia, had never been a colony of a European power, that even the name That meant 'free.' Muang That, 'Land of the Free,' was fiercely proud of that heritage.
'You all know the capital of the country is Bangkok,' he said. 'But don't forget that the Thais themselves call it Pra Nakhorn, the 'Heavenly Capital,' or better yet Krung Thep, the 'City of Angels.'' You guys from Los Angeles ought to appreciate that.'
He went on to explain how important Thailand was to American interests in the region. Its neighbors on three sides included Laos and Cambodia ? both communist ? and Burma. The Socialist Union of Burma had been under one Marxist military dictatorship or another since 1962. Recent free elections had carried with them the promise for democratic reform, but for the present the military continued to rule that impoverished country.
'Thailand is a member of both SEATD and ASEAN,' he said, 'and is one of the United States' very few strong, democratic, and pro-Western allies in the region.
'Of course, most of you old hands remember how important Thailand was back during Vietnam. After the war, we turned our bases over to the Thais, packed up our gear, and went back to the World. The political know- it-alls predicted that Thailand would go the way of Cambodia and Laos in a few months.
It didn't. That politics are unique in that everyone in the country loves and respects the King.
'Thailand is a constitutional monarchy.' Buckley paused to perch his glasses on his nose and look down at what he had written on an index card before him. 'The King's name… I'd better read this to get it right…
The King's name is Bhumibol Adulyadej. He provides a tremendously stabilizing influence that keeps the lid on That politics. During a crisis, by constitutional law, he remains neutral… so even during a coup you have the rebels swearing loyalty to the Crown. The ordinary That people take respect of their monarch very very seriously. No revolutionary would get very far if he didn't revere the King as much as they did.
'Back in 1981, for instance, there was a coup attempt by a group of army officers who called themselves the Young Turks. They were strong, well-armed, and commanded a fair percentage of the country's military forces… but as soon as it became clear that they did not have the King's blessing ? despite his official neutrality ? support for their movement fell apart and they were crushed.
'Under the King, the That government is a weird mix of democracy and military rule. It's based on the English system, with a prime minister and a two-house parliament consisting of the Senate and the National Assembly, but both tend to be dominated by military officers. In Thailand, it works out, military officers can work in the business sector, run banks, own hotels, or serve in government… and still have an active military career. They rule according to the That constitution, so the government cannot fairly be called a junta or a dictatorship. King Bhumibol, incidentally, is also head of the armed forces.'
Buckley continued to talk, explaining that documentaries, travelogues, informational pieces, and VD films would be broadcast over the closed-circuit channel for the next several days, but he was certain that most of the crew were no longer listening. He'd been on the other end of such broadcasts more than once, going all the way back to his days in Nam, and he knew that by now the sailors would be more interested in the stories being told by the old hands who'd been to Bangkok before. Those stories would have less to do with Thailand or its culture than
