"Let me say, McCoy," Major J.J. Almond said, "that I appreciate your appearance. You look and conduct yourself as a Marine officer should. As you may have noticed, there is a lamentable tendency around here to let things slip. Because of what we do here, we can't run this place like a line company. But we go too far, I think, far too often. I am going to rely on you, Lieutenant, to both set an example for the men and to correct, on the spot, whomever you see failing to live up to the standards of the Corps."

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said.

"Now, before we get started, you reported in early."

"Yes, sir."

"You are entitled to a fourteen-day leave. If it is your intention to apply for that leave now that you have reported aboard, I would like to know that now."

"No, sir."

"You're in the BOQ at the Barracks, I presume?"

"No, sir."

"Where are you?"

"In a hotel, sir."

"I don't want to go through this, McCoy, pulling one fact after another from you."

"I'm in the Hotel Lafayette, sir. Sharing a room with another officer, sir. Lieutenant Malcolm Pickering, sir."

"Well, that is fortuitous," Major Almond announced. "It is the policy of this command that both officer and enlisted personnel live off the base. You will draw pay in lieu of quarters. Will that pay be enough to pay for your hotel room?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's your room number?" Almond asked. "And I'll need the hotel telephone number."

"I don't know the phone number, sir," McCoy said. "We're living in the maid's room of the bridal suite, sir."

Major Almond smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Very enterprising," he said. "I wondered how you could afford to live in the Lafayette."

He reached into his desk drawer and came out with a three-inch-thick manila folder. He saw his name lettered on it, and that it was stamped "SECRET-COMPLETE BACKGROUND INVESTIGATION

"This is the report of the FBI's investigation of you, Lieutenant," he said. "It is classified SECRET, and you are not authorized access to it. I show it to you to show how carefully they have gone into your background." McCoy had no idea what was going on. Major Almond then handed him a printed form. "In normal circumstances, the procedure would have been for you to complete this form before the FBI did its complete background check. But the circumstances have not been normal. Time was important. The FBI had to, so to speak, start from scratch using existing records. So what has happened is that I have had our clerks prepare your background statement using existing records and the FBI report. Are you following me, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," McCoy said. "I think so, sir." ' "The standing operating procedure requires that your completed background statement be in the files," Major Almond said. "Now, while I am sure that the FBI has done their usual thorough job, I am nearly as sure that they have missed something. What I want you to do is take your background statement to the desk over there and go over it with great care. If there is anything on it that is not absolutely correct, I want you to mark it. We will then discuss it. More important, I want you to pay particular attention to omissions, particularly of a nonflattering nature." "Sir?"

"I want you to make sure that all the blemishes on your record are visible," Major Almond said. "The next step in the administrative procedure is to evaluate your record and judge whether or not you are qualified to be granted a top secret, and other, security clearances. If it came out later that there are blemishes which do not appear on the record, that would cause trouble, do you understand?" "Yes, sir."

"The sergeant will give you a lined pad and pencils," Major Almond said. "Make your notations on the lined pad, not on the form."

"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said.

"Work steadily, but carefully," Major Almond said. "Time is of the essence."

"Aye, aye, sir."

McCoy wondered if they had found out that he'd been under charges in Shanghai about the Italian marines, and whether or not he should tell them if they weren't. The charges had been dropped. Did that mean they didn't count? Was getting charged with murder a "blemish" if they dropped the charges?

He sat down at the desk and looked at the form.

It was immediately apparent that they knew more about him than he knew himself. He didn't know his mother's date of birth, or his father's, but they were in the blocks on the form. And so were Anne-Marie's and Tommy's, and even Anne-Marie's husband's.

(Two)

An hour later, he had worked his way through the six-page form to a section headed, "Arrests, Detentions, Indictments, Charges, et cetera."

They knew about the charges in China. (Not Prosecuted, initial facts in error.) And they knew about the old man signing the warrant for his arrest (Nol prossed on condition enlistment, USMC.) And they knew about speeding tickets, reckless driving, and even two charges of malicious mischief and being found in possession of a Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun in violation of the city ordinances of Norristown, Pa. (Nol prossed. BB Gun confiscated. Released in custody of parents.) It was absolutely incredible how much they knew about I him. He wondered what was going to happen when whoever previewed his records came to the business about the Marines in China. Was that going to keep him from getting a security clearance?

The door opened and the tall skinny clerk-type walked in.

Without knocking, McCoy saw. In the same moment Major Almond rose to his feet. He is about to get his ass eaten out. The clerk-type walked toward the door of Lieutenant Colonel F.L. Rickabee and put his hand on the knob. For all intents and purposes he looked as if he was going to barge in there, too, without knocking. Then he stopped, turned to McCoy, and smiled.

"Come on in, McCoy," he said. "Whatever that is, it'll wait." Then he looked at Major Almond. "What the hell is that?" he demanded.

"Sir, it's Lieutenant McCoy's background statement."

"Isn't that a waste of his time?" Rickabee demanded sharply. "And ours? When I read the FBI report I had the feeling they knew everything there is to know about him."

Major Almond seemed to have difficulty framing a reply.

"I know, Jake," Colonel Rickabee said, more kindly. "It's regulation."

"Yes, sir."

"Come on in, McCoy, and you, too, Jake. It'll save time."

"Aye, aye, sir," Major Almond said.

Rickabee sat down behind his desk.

"For openers, McCoy, despite that inexcusable outburst of mine, let me make it clear that Major Almond is what keeps this lash-up of ours functioning. Without him, it would be complete, rather than seventy-five percent, chaos. I didn't mean to jump your ass, Jake. I've had a bad morning."

"Yes, sir. I know, sir," Major Almond said. "No apology is necessary, sir."

Colonel Rickabee turned to McCoy.

"With a three-inch-thick FBI report on you in Major Almond's safe, McCoy, we won't have to waste much time asking and answering questions about your background. And in addition to the official report, I have two personal reports on you. You made one hell of an impression on the boss in Philadelphia."

"Sir?" McCoy asked.

"You apparently delivered quite a lecture on the high state of discipline in the Imperial Japanese Army and how they were going to be formidable foes. Since the one true test of an intelligent man is how much he agrees with you, the boss thinks you're a genius."

" 'The boss,' sir?"

"The chief of intelligence," Rickabee said. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Let it pass, then," Rickabee said, smiling. "Newly commissioned second lieutenants should not be praised. It tends to swell their heads. I had another personal report on you just a week ago. Ed Banning wrote me from Manila… you knew that the fourth has been shipped to the Philippines?"