Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
AUTHOR’S ENDNOTE
BROTHERHOOD OF WAR by W.E.B. Griffin
PRAISE FOR W.E.B. GRIFFIN’S ALL-TIME CLASSIC SERIES,
THE CORPS
W.E.B. Griffin’s bestselling saga of the heroes we call Marines...
“THE BEST CHRONICLER OF THE U.S. MILITARY EVER TO PUT PEN TO PAPER.”
—Phoenix Gazette
“A BRILLIANT STORY ... NOT ONLY WORTHWHILE, IT’S A PUBLIC SERVICE.”
—The Washington Times
“GREAT READING. A superb job of mingling fact and fiction ... [Griffin’s] characters come to life.”
—The Sunday Oklahoman
“THIS MAN HAS REALLY DONE HIS HOMEWORK ... I confess to impatiently awaiting the appearance of succeeding books in the series.”
—The Washington Post
“GRIFFIN’S BOOKS HAVE HOOKED ME ... THERE IS NO ONE BETTER.”
—Chattanooga News-Free Press
“W.E.B. GRIFFIN HAS DONE IT AGAIN!”
—Rave Reviews
“ACTION-PACKED ... DIFFICULT TO PUT DOWN.”
—Marine Corps Gazette
Turn the page for reviews of W.E.B. Griffin’s other bestselling series...
BROTHERHOOD OF WAR
A sweeping military epic of the United States Army that became a New York Times bestselling phenomenon.
“A MAJOR WORK ... MAGNIFICENT ... POWERFUL ... If books about warriors and the women who love them were given medals for authenticity, insight and honesty, Brotherhood of War would be covered with them.”
—William Bradford Huie, author of The Klansman and The Execution of Private Slovik
“Brotherhood of War gets into the hearts and minds of those who by choice or circumstances are called upon to fight our nation’s wars.”
—Witliam R. Corson, Lt. Col. (Ret.) U.S.M.C., author of The Betrayal and The Armies of Ignorance
“Captures the rhythms of army life and speech, its rewards and deprivations ... A WELL-WRITTEN, ABSORBING ACCOUNT.”
—Publishers Weekly
“REFLECTS THE FLAVOR OF WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE A PROFESSIONAL SOLDIER.”
—Frederick Downs, author of The Killing Zone
“LARGE, EXCITING, FAST-MOVING.”
—Shirley Ann Grau, author of The Xeepers of the House
“A MASTER STORYTELLER who makes sure each book stands on its own.”
—Newport News Press
“GRIFFIN HAS BEEN CALLED THE LOUIS L’AMOUR OF MILITARY FICTION, AND WITH GOOD REASON.”
— Chattanooga News-Free Press
BADGE OF HONOR
W.E.B. Griffin’s electrifying epic series of a big-city police force...
“DAMN EFFECTIVE ... He captivates you with characters the way few authors can.”
—Tom Clancy
“TOUGH, AUTHENTIC ... POLICE DRAMA AT ITS BEST ... Readers will feel as if they’re part of the investigation, and the true-to-life characters will soon feel like old friends. Excellent reading.”
—Dale Brown, bestselling author of Day of the Cheetah and Hammerheads
“COLORFUL ... GRITTY ... TENSE.”
—The Philadelphia Inquirer
“A REAL WINNER.”
—New York Daily News
“NOT SINCE JOSEPH WAMBAUGH have we been treated to a police story of the caliber that Griffin gives us. He creates a story about real people in a real world doing things that are AS REAL AS TODAY’S HEADLINES.”
—Harold Coyle, bestselling author of Team Yankee and Sword Point
“FANS OF ED MCBAIN’S 87TH PRECINCT NOVELS BETTER MAKE ROOM ON THEIR SHELVES ... Badge of Honor is first and foremost the story of the people who solve the crimes. The characters come alive.”
—Gainesville Times (GA)
“GRITTY, FAST-PACED ... AUTHENTIC.”
—Richard Herman, Jr., author of The Warbirds
Titles by W.E.B. Griffin
HONOR BOUND
HONOR BOUND
BLOOD AND HONOR
SECRET HONOR
BROTHERHOOD OF WAR
BOOK I: THE LIEUTENANTS
BOOK II: THE CAPTAINS
BOOK III: THE MAJORS
BOOK IV: THE COLONELS
BOOK V: THE BERETS
BOOK VI: THE GENERALS
BOOK VII: THE NEW BREED
BOOK VIII: THE AVIATORS
BOOK IX: SPECIAL OPS
THE CORPS
BOOK I: SEMPER FI
BOOK II: CALL TO ARMS
BOOK III: COUNTERATTACK
BOOK IV: BATTLEGROUND
BOOK V: LINE OF FIRE
BOOK VI: CLOSE COMBAT
BOOK VII: BEHIND THE LINES
BOOK VIII: IN DANGER’S PATH
BOOK IX: UNDER FIRE
BOOK X: RETREAT, HELL!
BADGE OF HONOR BOOK I: MEN IN BLUE
BOOK II: SPECIAL OPERATIONS
BOOK III: THE VICTIM
BOOK IV: THE WITNESS
BOOK V: THE ASSASSIN
BOOK VI: THE MURDERERS
BOOK VII: THE INVESTIGATORS
BOOK VIII: FINAL JUSTICE
MEN AT WAR
BOOK I: THE LAST HEROES
BOOK II: THE SECRET WARRIORS
BOOK III: THE SOLDIER SPIES
BOOK IV: THE FIGHTING AGENTS
BOOK V: THE SABOTEURS
BOOK VI: THE DOUBLE AGENTS
PRESIDENTIAL AGENT
BOOK I: BY ORDER OF THE PRESIDENT
BOOK II: THE HOSTAGE
BOOK III: THE HUNTERS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagnation or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-parry websites or their content.
BEHIND THE LINES
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
G. P. Putnam’s Sons edition / January 1996
Jove mass-market edition / September 1996
Copyright © 1995 by W.E.B. Griffin.
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Visit the author’s website at
www.webgriffin.com
eISBN : 978-1-440-63006-4
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THE CORPS is respectfully dedicated to the memory of
Second Lieutenant Drew James Barrett III, USMC
Company K, 3rd Battalion, 26th Marines
Born Denver, Colorado, 3 January 1945
Died Quang Nam Province, Republic of Vietnam,
27 February 1969
and
Major Alfred Lee Butler III, USMC
Headquarters 22nd Marine Amphibious Unit
Born Washington, D.C., 4 September 1950
Died Beirut, Lebanon, 8 February 1984
And to the Memory of Donald L. Schomp
A Marine fighter pilot who became a Legendary
U.S. Army Master Aviator
RIP 9 April 1989
NOTE TO THE READER
Probably the best-known Marines who served with great distinction behind the enemy’s lines with the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) during World War II are Major Peter Ortiz (who was decorated with two Navy Crosses and named a member of both the French Legion d’Honneur and the British Order of the British Empire for his valor); Sergeants Jack Risler and Fred Brunner; Gunnery Sergeant Robert LaSalle; and Captains Sterling Hayden (the actor) and Peter Devries (the writer).
There were others....
I
[ONE]
Headquarters, U.S. Army Luzon Force
Bataan Peninsula, Luzon, Philippines
0915 Hours 7 April 1942
A Ford pickup truck turned off the Mariveles-Cabcaben “highway” into what was officially called “The Headquarters Area” but known universally as “Little Baguio.” The area held, in flimsy tropical buildings, the main ordnance and engineer depots and General Hospital #1, as well as the collection of buildings that housed the various offices of Headquarters, U.S. Army Force, Luzon.
The truck had seen better days. Its fenders were crumpled, its windshield was cracked, and the bright crimson paint of its former life as a utility vehicle for the Coca-Cola Company of Manila showed in twenty places through a hastily applied coat of Army olive drab. On the truck bed were a footlocker, a folding wooden cot, a battered leather suitcase, and half a dozen five-gallon gasoline cans.
In a few moments, it pulled up beside the building identified by a battered sign as the Commanding General’s.
A tall, just this side of heavyset man got out of the truck and started to walk toward the building. He was wearing mussed, sweat-soaked khakis, high-topped shoes, and a web belt from which was suspended a Model 1911 Colt .45 ACP pistol. He stopped and returned to the truck, snatched a khaki overseas cap from the seat and put it on. On the cap was the gold leaf of a major. There was no insignia of any kind on his khaki shirt. He rubbed the red stubble on his cheeks.
I need a shave. To hell with it.
He entered the open-sided building and walked past a collection of desks toward the building’s rear, stopping before the desk of another major of about the same age. On the desk, an ornately carved triangular nameplate—a remnant of better times—carried the crossed rifles of infantry, a major’s leaf, and the legend “Marshall Hurt.”
A moment or so later, Major Hurt looked up.
“Fertig,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“I was sent for,” Fertig replied.
“Oh, yes. I’d forgotten,” Hurt said.
They didn’t particularly like each other. Hurt was a professional soldier, Wendell Fertig a reservist. A year before, Hurt had been an underpaid captain and Fertig a successful—and wealthy—civil engineer.
Hurt stood up from his desk and went deeper into the building. A minute later he returned.
“The General will see you now,” he said, and nodded toward the rear of the building.
Fertig nodded, walked to an open door, then stood there and waited to be noticed by Major General Edward P. King, Jr., the Commanding General of Luzon Force. King, a stocky fifty-eight-year-old artillery man from Atlanta who wore a neatly cropped full mustache, was at that moment standing before a sheet of plywood on which a large-scale map of the Bataan Peninsula had been mounted.
Fertig both liked and admired General King. He had known him socially before the war—indeed. General King had played an important role in the direct commissioning of Fertig as a Captain, Corps of Engineers, U.S. Army Reserve.
And right now he felt very sorry for him. Fertig didn’t pretend to know much about the Army, but he knew enough to understand that the worst thing that could happen to a career officer was to suffer defeat.
The map of Bataan General King was studying was clear proof that not only was he suffering defeat, but the defeat was very shortly going to be total and absolute. It didn’t matter that King was going to be defeated by a well-equipped, battle-hardened Japanese force that outnumbered King’s poorly equipped, starving, “Filamerican” force four or five to one; he was about to lose, and that was all that mattered.
A minute or so later, General King glanced at the door, noticed Fertig, and waved him inside.
“Wendell,” he said.
“General.”
“Could you see the map, where you were standing?”
Fertig nodded.
“I’m afraid it won’t be long,” King said. “You know how we are defining effectives these days, Wendell?”
Fertig shook his head, no.
“An effective soldier is one who can carry his weapon one hundred yards without resting and be capable of firing it after he has gone the one hundred yards. Fifteen percent of our force is effective as of yesterday. The percentage is expected to decline.”
Fertig nodded.
“I had several things on my mind when I sent for you,” General King said. “For one thing, I wanted to hear from you, personally, that we are prepared to destroy our ordnance and other stocks.”
“Everything is prepared for detonation, General. Redundantly, in terms of both hardware and personnel. In other words, each blow site has been doubly wired, and there are two locations from which the sites can be blown.”
King nodded.
“Thank you. Good job. A young lieutenant came up with a means to destroy artillery that somehow didn’t occur to the authors of the Field Manuals. You simply shove powder bags down the tube ahead of the charge, or the round, and then fire it.”
“I don’t suppose the authors gave a lot of thought to destroying our own cannons,” Fertig said. “I was going to suggest shoving sandbags down the barrel from the muzzle end. I don’t know how it would work with a cannon, but I do know, from painful experience, what happens to the barrel of a Diana-grade Browning when you try to get an ounce and a quarter of Number 6 shot past a lump of mud.”
King smiled. It was a memory of better times ... of a cock pheasant rising from the frozen stubble of a cornfield.
“Secondly, Wendell, I was wondering what to do with you.”
“Sir?”
“You’ve blown up—or arranged to blow up—everything here that has to be blown,” King said. “It occurred to me that General Sharp might find some use for your skills.”
Brigadi
er General William F. Sharp commanded, on the island of Mindanao, what was now known as the Mindanao Force of the U.S. Army in the Philippines. From everything Fertig had heard, Sharp’s forces had not been subjected to the same degree of attack as the Luzon Force, and so were in much better shape.
In the absence of reinforcements, Sharp’s forces were as inevitably doomed as King’s, but that defeat was some time off, perhaps as much as two months, and in two months a good deal could happen.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Would you be willing to go down there to him?”
“Yes, Sir. Of course.”
“Well, we have some small craft that periodically try to get from here to there. There’s one leaving at nightfall. I’ve told Hurt to find space for you on it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Possibly, Wendell, you could make it from Mindanao to Australia. God knows, it would be a waste of your talents to spend the rest of this war in a prisoner-of-war cage.”
“If you think I can be of any use here, General...”
“I think we’ve passed that point, Wendell. And I’m sure General Sharp will be glad to have you. Give him my best regards when you see him.”