A mess cook appeared. He was trying, without much success, to look as neat and crisp as a cook-for-a-general should look. He carried a stainless-steel pitcher and a can of condensed milk. He put the pitcher and the can of condensed milk on the table. And then he opened the can by piercing the top in two places with a K-Bar knife.

"Thank you," General Vandegrift said. "I can use some coffee."

"Sir, I can give you powdered eggs and bacon, or corned beef."

"Corned beef for me, please," General Vandegrift said. He picked up the coffee pitcher and poured coffee for himself and the others.

"Please be seated, gentlemen," the General said.

Stecker and Harris sat down. The cook looked at them. Both nodded. The General had ordered corned beef; they would have corned beef.

The General raised his eyes to the cook.

"Is there any of the Japanese orange segments?"

"Yes, Sir. I was going to bring you some, Sir."

Vandegrift nodded.

"Thank God for the Japanese," Vandegrift said. He turned to look at Stecker.

"I suppose if you had something unusual to report, Jack, you would have already said what it is."

"Fairly quiet night, Sir."

Vandegrift nodded.

"Jack, we got a radio about a week ago asking us to recommend outstanding people for promotion. Officers and enlisted. We're going to have to staff entire divisions, and apparently someone at Eighth and I thinks the cadre should be people who have been in combat." (Headquarters, USMC, is at Eighth and I Streets in Washington, D.C.)

"Yes, Sir. I agree. Are you asking me for recommendations, Sir?"

"I wasn't, but go ahead."

"Sir, I have an outstanding company commander in mind, Joe Fortin, and my G-3 sergeant is really a first-class Marine. Are you talking about direct commissions, Sir?"

"Before you leave," Vandegrift said, not replying directly, "give those names to General Harris."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"What Eighth and I wanted, Jack, was the names of field-grade officers, for promotion"-majors, lieutenant colonels, and colonels- "and staff NCOs for either direct commissions or for Officer Candidate School." (Staff NCOs were enlisted men of the three senior grades.)

"Yes, Sir."

He already told me that. And he's certainly not asking me to offer my opinion of field-grade officers. If I'm not the junior major on this island, I don't know who is. What's he leading up to?

"A couple of names came immediately to mind, and we fired off a radio," General Vandegrift went on. "And for once Eighth and I did something in less than sixty days."

"Yes, Sir?"

The cook arrived with a plate of corned beef hash and three coffee cups, each of which held several spoonfuls of canned orange segments, courtesy of the Imperial Japanese Army.

He served the corned beef hash, left, and returned with another plate, this one holding bread that had apparently been "toasted" in a frying pan.

"General, we don't have any jam except plum," the cook said, laying a plate of jam on the table.

"Plum will be fine, thank you," General Vandegrift said.

General Harris spread his toast with the jam, and took a bite.

"This must be American," he said. "It's awful."

"Did you send for a photographer, Lew?" General Vandegrift asked.

"Yes, Sir. He's standing by."

"Well, let's get him in here and get this over with."

"Aye, aye, Sir," General Harris said. He rose and walked out from under the canvas fly, returning a minute later with a Marine in sweat-stained, tattered utilities. He had a shoulder holster holding a.45 Colt across his chest, a Thompson submachine gun hanging from his right shoulder, and a musette bag slung over the left. He carried a small 35mm Leica camera.

"Good morning," General Vandegrift said.

"Good morning, Sir," Corporal Easterbrook replied.

"Will you stand up, please, Jack?" Vandegrift said as he got to his feet.

Now what the hell?

"You want to take off those major's leaves, please, Jack?" Vandegrift said.

"Sir?"

"You heard the General, Colonel, take off those major's leaves," General Harris said.

I don't believe this.

"Pursuant to directions from the Commandant of the Marine Corps, I announce that Major Jack (NMI) Stecker, USMCR, is promoted Lieutenant Colonel, USMCR, effective this date," General Vandegrift said. "How do you want to do this, Corporal? Me pinning on the insignia, or shaking Colonel Stecker's hand?"

"I'd like one of each, Sir," Corporal Easterbrook said.

"Very well, one of each," General Vandegrift said.

When they shook hands, General Vandegrift met Lieutenant Colonel Stecker's eyes for the first time. "Congratulations, Jack. The promotion is well deserved."

"Jesus!" Stecker blurted.

"I would hate to think that your first act as a lieutenant colonel was to question a general officer's recommendation," Vandegrift said. Then he looked at Corporal Easterbrook. "Is this all right, Corporal?"

"Colonel, if you would look this way, please?" Easterbrook said. When Stecker did that, he tripped the shutter.

[FOUR]

The Beach

Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands

0805 Hours 13 October 1942

Lieutenant Colonel Jack (NMI) Stecker was standing out of the way, on the highest ground (an undisturbed dune) he could find, watching the lines of landing craft moving between the beach and the transports standing offshore.

They were being reinforced.

After they waded the last few yards ashore, soldiers of the 164th Infantry Regiment were being formed up on the beach by their noncoms to be marched inland. At first, General Vandegrift had said at breakfast, these men would not be placed in the line as a unit. Rather, they were to be distributed among the Marine units already there; for they were desperately needed as reinforcements. At the same time, the Marines could guide them through their first experience under fire.