Alternate Generals III

"Well done, Colonel," Eisenhower offered.

"You might not think so when you hear the bill."

There was a brief pause. "How bad?"

"We lost fourteen fighters. Most of the P-40s from Blue squadron. But we downed between thirty and thirty-five fighters."

"And the bombers?"

Now Doolittle paused. "The B-17s took eighty percent casualties, General."

"Dear God," came Eisenhower's reply.

The pilot continued. "I take full responsibility. I ordered the fighters to protect the planes that hadn't unloaded."

"You did what you had to do to get the job done, Jim."

"But was it enough?"

"We'll know by tomorrow. Things have been pretty hectic here while you were gone."

"I heard. Reports are still coming in."

"Bring me up to date. I've been on the road," the general said as he took out his pen.

"Most of our fighters accounted well for themselves, Ike. Except the poor bastards in those worthless Buffaloes. They went down faster than the Hindenburg. Over all we lost about twenty-five planes that were defending the island. Plus the three grounded B-17s. But we dropped over forty of their bombers and at least a dozen more Zeros. The Jap pilots must have had a few mixups. Probably because they had so many targets. Whatever the reason, some of their bomber squadrons had no escorts and we just slaughtered them. Also, those antiaircraft batteries you let me install at the airfields were pretty effective."

"And the airfields?"

"Pretty chopped up. There's only two runways still operational for fifty miles. We'll have at least two more cleared in about forty-eight hours. But Clark is just a big trashpile. Also, there are dozens of buildings and installations burning. I'll tell you, Ike. First chance I get, I'm go

"You do that and you'll have me cheering loudest, Jimmy. Salvage what you can and keep the remaining fighters ready for additional attacks. If the Japs are following through with their invasion the assault should start in about thirty-six hours. And… thanks."

"Yeah. Sure. Anytime, General," came the dejected response.

It was 2:00 p.m. the next day before Eisenhower finally met up again with Patton. He returned the salute, then shook his hand. "How's it going, George? You look like hell."

"Well that's a damn shame, Ike, because I was pla

"What have you got for me?"

"Assuming they land where their planes hit the hardest, we should be in good shape. As long as they don't attack us with more than half a dozen old ladies."

"That bad?"

"Not quite. But most of the roads to the supply depots are torn to hell. A lot of our shit has to be brought up on foot and oxcart. Is it too late to get those hundred thousand pack bearers I turned down earlier?"

"What about the defenses, George? What are we looking at?"

"Of course everything depends on where they hit and how many there are. But I think we'll be able to give them a run for their money. The tanks will help a lot. We lost some Grants to the Jap bombers, but the Stuarts all made it, being able to go off-road. By the time the Japs hit, I'll have men and tanks spread out far enough to cover the main area but close enough to support each other. Plus I'm holding back some reserves to cover any breach in the front line. Any chance of the Navy pitching in?"

"No chance at all. They're getting harassed by a small carrier group and MacArthur wants them to stay in the south in case we have to abandon the Philippines."

"Figures. How about some cards?"

December 11, 1941

Eisenhower stood up in the makeshift sandbag bunker and watched the approaching enemy ships through his binoculars. An aide had come to wake him up at dawn that morning but he was already awake, fully dressed, and finishing his second cup of coffee. "Enemy ships approaching, General," was the awaited a

Now it was two hours later and he was about to witness the invasion. His staff pleaded with him to make his headquarters in a safer spot but he refused. "I'm not going to sit blind in the bushes and try to guess the outcome." So here he was, gazing out over the beautiful Gulf of Lingayen. A spot he had enjoyed picnicking at years before. The American light artillery pieces had already started taking ranging shots. Enemy plane activity was surprisingly light. No time to wonder about it now, he thought as he focused in on the ships. So many. Thank God half were destroyed or we wouldn't stand a chance. But do we? He looked around and the heavy vegetation gave the impression that only a handful of defenders prepared to meet the assault.

He watched the ships spread out and slowly form two lines facing the shore, coordinating to hit all points at once in two waves. "They seem pretty organized," he commented to his aide, who nodded in agreement.

Once they formed up they began heading toward the beaches at full throttle. That's when Eisenhower noticed the planes. Enemy fighters started strafing runs while two squadrons of bombers held back, waiting for the defenses to reveal themselves. He heard the sharp reports of the tanks opening up on the approaching vessels, saw the splash of the near misses and the bursts of the hits as they ripped through the hulls.

He watched the lead ships ground themselves and the troops pouring over the side. One ship must have hit a reef in deep water because the soldiers jumping in were over their heads. Some were swimming, many never came up. The defending machine guns were now in full swing, mowing down men as they approached the beach. My God, what a slaughter, he was about to exclaim when the world around him erupted.

The next thing he knew he was lying on his back trying to rub sand out of his eyes. He was aware of a heavy weight being lifted off his chest, then saw the bloody, lifeless face of his aide.

"General! Are you hurt?" cried a voice.

"I don't think so. Somebody get me a canteen so I can wash my eyes out. What the heck hit us?"

"Jap bombers. They're pounding the shit out of our defenses."

Eisenhower managed to clear his eyes enough to look around and assess the situation. Heavy attacks from the air had subdued the defenders enough for the enemy soldiers to establish multiple beachheads. While still taking heavy casualties, the enemy was slowly, successfully advancing and his own men were forced to pull back. He saw the smoking wreck of a tank a few hundred yards down the beach. "Get me Patton on the phone!" he screamed to no one in particular.

"George," he yelled into the field receiver. "They're breaking through. We need to counterattack!"

"Jesus Christ, Ike. I'm not just picking my ass. I know what's going on. I've already got the reserves on the move. You just watch the show and let me do the generaling. That's what you brought me here for, remember?" He abruptly hung up.

Sure enough, the jungle behind him came alive. A Stuart tank raced up, spraying the enemy with machine-gun fire to deadly effect. Dozens of Japanese fell less than a hundred yards in front of him. Behind the tank came American GIs; their youthful faces displaying grim determination. He saw a screaming group of Filipino soldiers charge right into the enemy line. The ferocity of the counterattack first staggered, then stopped the advancing line of the invaders. Eisenhower was begi

Again he managed to get Patton on the line. "More bombers, George!"