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“Well, come on in,” Schultz called. “Don’t just stand there.”
Cronley walked up to the table.
“Sir,” he said. “I don’t know the protocol. Am I supposed to salute?”
“Try saying, ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’” the admiral said, as he stood up.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
The admiral put out his hand.
“I’m Sid Souers, son, and I’m glad to finally meet you. You know Colonel Wallace, of course, and Mr. Schultz, and you’ve just met my aide, Tommy Peterson. These fellows are, left to right, Bill Conroy, Jack Kingsbury, and Tony Henderson. All are DCI.”
Cronley went to each and shook his hand.
“Where’s your DSM, Jim?” Wallace asked.
“In my pocket. In the box it came in.”
Wallace put his hand out, palm up.
Cronley took an oblong blue-leather-covered box from his tunic pocket and laid it in Wallace’s hand. Wallace opened it and withdrew the Distinguished Service Medal.
“I see you also brought your ‘I Was There’ ribbons,” Wallace said. “Good.”
He referred to the small colored ribbons Cronley and millions of others had been awarded, the World War II Victory Medal testifying that they had been in the service when the war had been won; the European Theater of Operations Medal, awarded to everyone serving in Europe; and the Army of Occupation Medal–Germany, awarded to everyone serving in Occupied Germany.
Cronley’s mouth went on automatic. “Modesty prevents me from wearing them,” he said.
That earned him a dirty look from Wallace, but he saw Admiral Souers and the others smiling.
“Tell me about the Legion of Merit, Cronley,” the admiral said.
Cronley knew the Legion of Merit ranked immediately below the Distinguished Service Medal but his mouth was still on automatic: “Isn’t that what they award majors and up for ninety days’ service in the Army of Occupation for not coming down with either the clap or syphilis?”
“Watch your goddamn mouth!” Wallace snapped.
“I don’t think I’ll tell President Truman you said that,” Admiral Souers said.
“Sir, I’m sorry,” Cronley said. “My automatic mouth ran away with me.”
“As it often does. Jesus, Jimmy!” Wallace said.
“What I think I’ll tell the President is that you said, with becoming modesty, that you didn’t deserve the Legion,” Souers said.
“Sir?”
Souers gestured for the others at the table to stand up.
“Where do you want us, Jack?” the admiral asked.
“There were supposed to be flags, Admiral.”
“Bill, go find the goddamn flags!” the admiral snapped.
Bill Conroy hurried to do the admiral’s bidding and returned a minute later with two bellmen carrying two shrouded flags on poles and bases for them.
The flags were unshrouded and set in their bases against the wall. One flag was the national colors, and the other the blue flag with two silver stars of a rear admiral.
