Thursday, March 21, 2013
“Baa-Baa, What?!?” By RangerElite
Far East Theater in WWIII 1946
Headquarters, USMC's 1st Marine Air Wing,
French Arsenal airfield
Near Tientsin, Hopeh, China
“No sir, you can't do that! The Reds'll be able to take out our planes on the ground! We need those ack-ack units to secure the airfield, sir!” Colonel Gregory “Pappy” Boyington, commander of Marine Air Group 32 (MAG-32) was once again arguing with Major General Louis Woods, commander of the 1st Marine Air Wing (1MAW), over the allocation of the limited air defense units they had on hand. “Perhaps you're right, Boyington, but Marine Expeditionary headquarters in Peking needs those air-defense forces to reinforce their position there. My hands are tied, Greg. We've known each other a long time, and you know that I'd never shine you on, but I've got no joy on this one.” It was true, Boyington had known Woods far longer than any other flag-rank officer he knew, but it was slightly embarrassing to know that they were so disparate in rank, despite how close they were in age. The only reason that Boyington rejoined the Marine Corps, after having been held as a POW in a Japanese prison camp for nearly two years, was for the same reason as always: money troubles. He owed people more money than he was making. He barely passed the flight physical and other minimum requirements to qualify, but he was still the gifted pilot that terrorized the Jap Navy aviation service in the Solomons Islands “Slot”.
Boyington, looking a bit dejected, conceded the general's point, and added “Well, we need to do something to make it clear to those Red Chinese bastards that we're not screwing around, and the Free Russians don't have the aircraft to keep them off our back, for now. Maybe a massive air strike on one of their rear staging areas...” “Are you insane, Boyington? Are you looking to give the Soviets, and their 80 DIVISIONS in Manchuria and Outer Mongolia, a reason to jump in this particular fight, with both feet? No, Colonel Boyington, you DO NOT have my permission to organize an air strike that large, and if I catch wind that you are, I will personally throw you UNDERNEATH the fucking brig MYSELF! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, COLONEL?” “Crystal clear, sir. I was just thinking out loud.” Boyington replies, half a smirk occupying his face.
Woods immediately recognized Boyington's insouciant smile and replied “You're damned well going to do it anyway, aren't you...?” And then a burst of inspiration struck Woods “What if I were to coordinate a massive air strike with our Free Russian friends, Greg?” “Didn't you just hear me, Louis? They don't have the aircraft to pull it off...” replied Boyington, who had made a sour face. “Have you ever heard of a 'false-flag' attack, Greg? I could ask our Free Russian friends to throw some radio traffic out there, then have your pilots flying those new BT2D-2 Skyraider attack planes that they've been certifying on for the past couple months, painted in Free Russian colors, and put a hurt on those Red Chinese fuckers that they'll never forget.”
“I'm a bad influence on you, Louis” Boyington remarked, in his best dead-pan expression “Let's have a drink to that.”