"Just for the record, Tex, I would have gone anyway," Leibermann said, and the phone went dead.
[THREE]
2035th U.S. Army Air Corps Support Wing
Porto Alegre, Brazil
1325 18 April 1943
The pilot of the Douglas R5-D took his microphone from its cradle on the con-trol yoke, checked to see that his transmitter was set on the correct frequency, and depressed the transmit switch.
"Porto Alegre, Navy Seven Niner Niner Seven."
"Go ahead, Seven Niner Niner Seven."
"Niner Seven passing through seven thousand estimate twenty miles north-west your station. Approach and landing, please."
"Niner Seven, you are cleared for a straight-in approach to Runway One Seven. I say again One Seven. Ceiling and visibility unlimited. The winds are from the south at fifteen, gusting to twenty. The barometer is two niner niner. Re-port when passing through five thousand and when you have the field in sight."
"Niner Seven understands One Seven."
"Niner Seven, that is a Roger."
"Porto Alegre, please advise your base commander we have a Code Six aboard."
"Wilco, Niner Seven."
The staff car-a 1942 Chevrolet sedan-assigned to Colonel J. B. Wallace, U.S. Army Air Corps, stopped at the side of the Base Operations building. The driver, a young, crew-cutted sergeant, jumped out. He went quickly to the trunk and removed a checkered flag rolled around a length of aluminum pipe. Un-rolling the flag as he walked, he went quickly to the front of the Chevrolet and inserted the pipe into a holder welded to the bumper. The purpose of the check-ered flag was to increase the chances that pilots of taxiing aircraft would see the Chevrolet and not run over it.
Then he quickly slipped back behind the wheel, drove onto the tarmac in front of Base Ops, and waited for the Navy Transport that had just landed to turn off Runway One Seven and taxi to the Base Operations building.
After it did that, ground crewmen pushed a flight of stairs up to the door of the aircraft.
"Drive over there," Colonel Wallace ordered.
"Yes, Sir."
The sergeant drove to the rolling stairs, then jumped out and opened the rear door for Colonel Wallace.
Colonel Wallace tugged at the skirt of his green tunic, adjusted his leather-brimmed cap-to signify his status as an active pilot, he had removed the crown stiffener from it-tucked his riding crop under his arm, and stood near the foot of the stairs to officially greet the Code Six passenger that Naval Air Transport Command flight 404, Panama-Brazil, had reported aboard.
A Code Six was a Navy captain, or an Army (or Marine) colonel. Colonel Wallace believed that an officer who had achieved such a high rank, and was bearing the enormous responsibility that went with it, was entitled to the cour-tesy of being greeted by someone of equal rank when arriving at a military base. If an incoming aircraft, when asking for landing permission, did not volunteer the information that they did-or did not-have colonels or general (or flag) of-ficers aboard, the Porto Alegre tower was instructed to inquire.
The passenger door-within the much wider cargo door-opened, and a Ma-rine colonel stepped out onto the landing at the head of the stairs. He immediately turned to the aircraft, and someone inside handed him two leather suitcases.
"Take care of the Colonel's luggage," Wallace ordered, and his driver went quickly up the stairs, saluted, took the suitcases, and motioned for the Colonel to descend the stairs.
Wallace stepped to the foot of the stairs, removed his riding crop from un-der his left arm, and touched the brim of his cap with it.
"Welcome to Porto Alegre," he said with a smile.
The Marine colonel returned the salute. He wore, as Marines did-Wallace thought it was a fine idea-the silver eagles denoting his rank both on the epaulets of his tunic and on the points of his collar.
"Thank you," he said.
The Marine colonel was not wearing any ribbons to indicate where he had served, or what, if any, decorations for valor or outstanding performance he had earned. Colonel Wallace thought the wearing of ribbons should be mandatory, and he did not like to hear them referred to depreciatingly as fruit salad.
"I'm Colonel J. B. Wallace, commanding," Wallace announced.