Top Secret Part 5

[ SEVEN ].

The Hay-Adams Hotel 800 Sixteenth Street, N.W.

Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.

1345 26 October 1945 Jimmy saw his mother and father standing with Cletus Marcus Howell and Colonel Mattingly the moment he walked into the hotel lobby.

His mother was wearing an ankle-length Persian lamb coat. His father had on a Stetson and western boots, and between them a Brooks Brothers suit, b.u.t.ton-down collar s.h.i.+rt, and a rep-striped necktie. Both parents fit-as did their son-the description "lanky and tanned Texan." But only his father had been born in Texas. His mother was from Strasbourg, a "war bride" from the First World War.

His mother went to him quickly and wrapped him in an embrace.

"My baby," she said. "My poor, poor baby."

She seemed to be on the edge of tears, and, he realized a moment later, had spoken in German, which he'd learned from his mother.

Jimmy then wondered what the h.e.l.l that was all about, but asked the question that was foremost in his mind.

"Mama, wo ist der Squirt?"

His mother started to sob.

He partially freed himself from her embrace.

"Mama, was ist los?"

A visibly upset Cletus Marcus Howell walked up to them, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Marjie's gone, Jimmy," he said. "Some drunken sonofab.i.t.c.h in a G.o.dd.a.m.ned sixteen-wheeler hit her Buick head-on on U.S. 1 just inside the District and she's gone."

[ EIGHT ].

The Marquis de Lafayette Suite The Hay-Adams Hotel 1505 26 October 1945 When the President of the United States came into the sitting room of the suite, Second Lieutenant James D. Cronley Jr. was sitting on a couch, holding a gla.s.s dark with whisky. To his left was Mrs. Martha Howell, and to his right, Mrs. Virginia Cronley, his mother. Cletus Marcus Howell and James D. Cronley Sr. were sitting on a matching couch across a coffee table from them.

The coffee table held a silver coffee service, a bottle of Collier and McKeel Handcrafted Tennessee Sour Mash Whiskey, a bottle of Haig & Haig Pinch scotch, and a silver bowl of ice.

Leaning against the wall, and wearing a starched white jacket, was Thomas Jefferson "Tom" Porter, a silver-haired black man in his late sixties. He had been Cletus Marcus Howell's butler/chauffeur/confidant and close and loving friend for as long as anyone could remember.

In an armchair pulled up to the end of the coffee table was an elegantly dressed Irishman in his early sixties. His name was William Joseph Donovan. Until it had been disbanded by Presidential Order about three weeks before-on October 1, 1945-he had been director of the Office of Strategic Services. Pulled up in another armchair at the other end of the coffee table was Colonel Robert Mattingly.

The First Lady followed the President into the room. She was followed by Rear Admiral Sidney William Souers.

All the men stood.

"The admiral tells me he thought it would be all right if Bess and I came to express our sympathy," President Truman said.

"Very kind of you both, Harry," Cletus Marcus Howell said. "Tom, fix the President a little taste of the Collier and McKeel while I make the introductions."

The President ignored him and walked to Jimmy Cronley.

"Son, I can't tell you how sorry Bess and I were when Admiral Souers told us what happened to your girlfriend."

"She wasn't his girlfriend, Mr. President," Jimmy's mother said. "They eloped yesterday."

"Oh my G.o.d!" Mrs. Truman blurted.

Jimmy's mother put her hands over her face and began to sob. Bess Truman went to the couch, dropped to her knees, and put her arms around her.

"That's Jimmy's mother, Mrs. Truman," Cletus Marcus Howell said. "The other lady is-was-Marjorie's mother."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Jimmy said. "And thank you for not making . . . for excusing me from reporting to you at the White House."

The President didn't reply. He looked around and then took the gla.s.s Tom was extending on a silver tray. He took a healthy swallow, then looked around.

"General," he said to Donovan. And then he said, "Colonel," to Mattingly.

"Mr. President," they replied just about simultaneously.

"And that's Jimmy's dad, Harry," Cletus Marcus Howell said. "James D. Cronley Senior."

The two shook hands.

"You can take a lot of pride in your son, Mr. Cronley," President Truman said.

"I do, Mr. President. I'm very . . ." His voice broke, and then he found it and continued, ". . . I'm very proud of Jimmy."

The President took another sip of the Collier and McKeel.

"I'd forgotten, Mr. Cronley," he said, "that you and General Donovan served together in the First War."

"Yes, sir. We did."

President Truman scanned the room, then gestured. "Everybody please sit down," he ordered. He turned to Tom Porter. "Could you get chairs for my wife and me, please? And Admiral Souers?"

The President helped his wife to her feet and installed her in a chair and then sat down himself. He looked at Jimmy.

"Son, the reason I asked the admiral to bring you to the White House was that I was going to make you a first lieutenant and give you the Bronze Star for what you did. That was General Marshall's recommendation. He said he thought the Bronze Star was appropriate, but that since the war was over, the Bronze Star could not have the V for Valor device on it. And he said he would 'look into' making you a first lieutenant even though you don't have the time in grade.

"This was before, I think I should mention, Admiral Souers told me what happened on U.S. 1. I don't want you to think that what's going to happen now is because I pity you, though G.o.d knows I think what happened to you this afternoon is about the worst kick in the ba- in the stomach that I can imagine.

"What happened was I got to thinking the Bronze Star without the V for Valor device wasn't 'appropriate.' And as far as General Marshall 'looking into' whether you could be promoted early or not, I remembered when my National Guard outfit got called up for the First War, I went from staff sergeant to captain overnight. And finally, I remembered I'm commander in chief of the Armed Forces of the United States of America."

The President drained his Collier and McKeel, handed the gla.s.s to Tom, and said, "I'll have another of those, but hold off a minute, please."

"Yes, sir."

"Stand up, son," the President ordered as he rose from his own chair. "We'll get to what was supposed to happen in the White House."

Jimmy stood.

"Okay, Sid," the President ordered.

"Attention to orders," Admiral Souers proclaimed.

General Donovan and Colonel Mattingly jumped to their feet and came to attention. Cletus Marcus Howell got to his feet next, then Jimmy's father, and finally all the women.

"War Department, Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., twenty-sixth October 1945," Admiral Souers read from a sheet of paper. "Extract of General Orders. Cla.s.sified SECRET. Paragraph one. Second Lieutenant James D. Cronley Junior, Cavalry, Army of the United States, with detail to Military Intelligence, is promoted to Captain, Cavalry, with detail to Military Intelligence, with date of rank twenty-six October 1945. Authority, Verbal Order of the President of the United States."

Two men entered the sitting room. One was a photographer and the other a full colonel, from whose epaulet hung the heavy golden cords that identify the military aide to the President.

He handed a small box to the President. He took it and walked to Jimmy's mother.

"Would you like to pin these onto Captain Cronley's epaulets, Mrs. Cronley?"

She started sobbing again, and Mrs. Truman again put her arms around her.

"Maybe you'd better do it, Mr. Cronley," the President suggested.

When he had done so, he hugged his son.

"Thank you, Mr. President," Jimmy said.

"Right now you're probably thinking 'So what?'" the President said. "But that will change, Captain Cronley-believe me, based on my own experience-when some other soldier calls you 'Captain' for the first time."

"Yes, sir," Jimmy said, chuckling. "Thanks again, sir."

"We're not finished," the President said. "Sid?"

"Attention to orders," Admiral Souers proclaimed. "The White House, Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., twenty-sixth October 1945. Award of the Distinguished Service Medal. By order of the President of the United States, the Distinguished Service Medal is presented to Captain James D. Cronley Junior, Cavalry, Detail Military Intelligence, Army of the United States. Citation: Captain Cronley, then second lieutenant, while engaged in a cla.s.sified operation of vital importance to the United States demonstrated great courage and valor and a willingness, far above and beyond the call of duty, to risk his life in the completion of his mission. In doing so, he also demonstrated a level of professional skill and knowledge far above that which could be expected of someone of his rank, youth, and experience. His actions and valor reflect great credit upon the U.S. Army. Entered the military service from Texas. Signed, George C. Marshall, general of the Army."

The aide extended to Truman an oblong blue box from which he took the DSM. He then pinned the medal to Jimmy's uniform.

The photographer went into action.

"You understand," the President said to the photographer, "that those photos are not to be given to the press?"

"Yes, sir. Admiral Souers made that quite clear, Mr. President."

"You'll be given copies, of course," the President said to the room in general. "But I'm going to have to ask that you, at least for the time being, regard them as secret."

He waited until he got acknowledgment from everyone, and then he said, "Bess and I will be leaving now. Please forgive our intrusion on your grief."

II.

[ ONE ].

Arriving Pa.s.senger Terminal Rhine-Main USAF Base Frankfurt am Main American Zone, Occupied Germany 0825 28 October 1945 "Captain," the sergeant called.

And then he called "Captain!" again, this time a little louder.

Captain James D. Cronley Jr. belatedly realized he was the subject of the sergeant's interest.

"What?"

"I think that's yours, and the colonel's, stuff over there," the sergeant said, pointing. "You must have been the last people to get on the plane and they didn't have time to put your stuff in the cargo hold with the other luggage."

Jimmy looked and saw their luggage against the wall. Until just now, he and Colonel Mattingly had been worried that it had been left behind in Was.h.i.+ngton.

"That's it, thanks," Cronley said, and then raised his voice and called, "Colonel!"

Mattingly was across the huge room, looking at stacks of luggage. When he turned, Cronley pointed. Mattingly nodded and started toward their luggage.

When they had carried their luggage into the main terminal, Mattingly said, "The problem now is how to get you to Munich. In the good old days, one of our puddle jumpers would be waiting here."

The Piper Cub aircraft, known as the L-4 in the U.S. Army, was universally referred to as a puddle jumper. A dozen of them had been a.s.signed, primarily for personnel transport, to the now out-of-existence organization known as OSS Forward.

Cronley didn't reply.

"But let me get on the horn and see if I can get a puddle jumper from the United States Constabulary," Mattingly said.

"From whom?"

"The newly formed police force of the American Zone."