Espritos Marcos Island
Allied Command
Rear Area
Colonel Thomas Lard sat at his desk signing off on supply requisition forms. It was usually cut and dried requests and he was anxious to get over to the Officers' Club and have a drink with his old friend Admiral Willoughby, but suddenly his eyes skimmed over the supply form submitted by VMF-214 on Vella La Cava.
"WHAT IS BOYINGTON UP TO NOW?" He thundered. Then pressing a button on the intercom on his desk he addressed his secretary. "Pamela, bring me copies of the last three months supply requisitions from VMF-214."
"Yes Sir and your wife just phoned with the menu for Admiral Willoughby's surprise birthday party for you to take a look at. Would you like for me to bring that in as well?"
Colonel Lard was really in no mood to be looking at menus and even though the Admiral was one of his best friends this formal dinner had been his wife's idea.
"So," he thought. "Let her deal with the menu."
He was sure that Douglas Willoughby would be much happier having a private party consisting of a night of drinking and scantily clad girls at the Officers' Club, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. So instead, he, the guest of honor, and their high ranking friends would be subjected to an evening of dressing up like penguins, listening to boring speeches, and sitting through a drawn out, several course, formal dinner.
"Yes, Pamela, bring it in and I'll look it over later," he answered more concerned with what was going on Vella La Cava that he had not been made aware of.
A few minutes later, Pamela entered.
"Here we are, Sir, and I'll just place the menu in your in box."
"Thank you, would you read over this particular supply requisition form and tell me what you see?"
Pamela began reading and then she got down to the last several items.
"Two cases of formula, one case of diapers, 12 onesies, 14 infant dresses, picture books,14 nightgowns, 4 cotton baby blankets, a stuffed bear..., What is all this, Sir?"
The Colonel looked over the previous months requests and noted that each contained basic infant care items, but whether or not those items had been received he didn't know. However, he certainly was going to find out.
"I don't know, Pamela, but when I do find out Greg Boyington and those Black Sheep are going to have a lot of explaining to do."
Vella La Cava Island
214 Squadron H Q
TJ knocked on Greg's door and stuck his head past the mosquito netting.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked.
Greg looked up from some papers that he had been reading from General Moore.
"What's on your mind, TJ?" he asked.
TJ proceeded to tell him about the letter from his mother and the idea he, Anderson, Boyle, Casey, and Gutterman had come up with about his brother and sister-in-law adopting Emily.
"Casey was able to connect me with the U.S. mainland and I was able to talk to my brother this morning. He said if it could be arranged they'd love to adopt Emily. He's not going to say anything to Janie or anyone else in the family until it looks like it will actually happen."
Greg leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head thinking.
"It might work. Let me talk to Sister Mary Elizabeth and see what the best way to handle this is. In the meantime, talk to the other guys and make sure they're all okay with it as well."
It was later that afternoon and the temperature was in the low 90's with high humidity making it feel uncomfortably sticky. Greg had undressed Emily down to her diaper and she was napping in her basket. Greg, too, was lying on his cot dozing and Meatball had dug a fairly good sized hole underneath the cot and was laying in that asleep.
Despite the unbearable temperatures, for lack of anything else to do, the rest of the Black Sheep had chosen up sides and started a baseball game, which had been going on for about an hour; when Bragg, who was pitching, suddenly stood there looking towards the airstrip.
"Hey are you going pitch or stare at the sky hoping a plane load of USO show girls makes an emergency landing?" Gutterman yelled.
Bragg looked over his shoulder.
"Casey, run and tell Greg that Colonel Lard's at the end of the runway talking to Hutch and he doesn't seem to be in a good mood. We'll continue the game so he doesn't suspect we saw him arrive."
Casey nodded and took off towards Greg's tent and upon entering found him asleep.
"Pappy," he gently shook his shoulder several times. "Pappy, wake up we've got a problem."
Greg stirred and sleepily opened one eye.
"Whus the matter? Did a plane carrying Betty Gable, Ginger Rogers, and Lana Turner land and you're all fighting over who gets to kiss them first?"
"No, but right now we all wish that were the case because Colonel Lard is at the end of the airstrip talking to Hutch and he's riled up about something from the looks of it."
Hearing that statement Greg suddenly came fully awake.
"What do you want us to do, Pappy?" Casey asked.
Greg, who had been sleeping in next to nothing, began to get dressed.
"All of you just let me do the talking until I find out exactly why he's here. Although, I'd bet a case of scotch that it has something to do with this sleeping little angel here," he said looking at Emily as he buttoned his shirt. "Do me a favor and stay here with her; if Colonel Lard and I come in pretend we were looking over these reconnaissance photos that French and Anderson took over Bougainville the other day."
"Will do, Pappy," Casey said and sat down at Greg's desk so that it appeared as if the two of them had been in a discussion about what was going on in the pictures.
Greg had no sooner stepped outside than the Colonel pulled up in his jeep, got out, and approached him looking as if he was really going to let Greg have it.
"BOYINGTON, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" He yelled.
"Well Sir," Greg had this very innocent, angelic look on his face which he was certain would infuriate the Colonel even more than he already was. "This is a baseball game, America's number one pastime, ranking up there with mom and apple pie. Which, did I mention that Boyle's mom won first prize at the Cedar Springs Annual Bake Off with her Cinnamon Apple Crumb Cake?"
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT. WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS?"
He held up copies of the supply forms for the last few months.
"Sir, I have no idea to what specifically you are referring to?"
At that moment French hit a home run which not only brought in him, but also the players on the other three bases as well and put his team in the lead by a significant margin. In addition, the ball nearly hit Greg and Colonel Lard as it sailed across the camp landing beside Meatball who had gone outside to take care of some necessary business. Meatball not fond of baseballs falling from the air, barked in surprise and ran back into Greg's tent where he figured he'd be much safer than outside with flying baseballs.
"HEY, LET'S KEEP IT IN THE BALL PARK!" Greg yelled.
"Sorry Pappy, they replied in unison although Greg could tell the only thing they were sorry about was that Colonel Lard had avoided getting some sense knocked into that thick, fat head of his.
The Colonel, who was not going to put up with anymore of Greg's nonsense, replied. "I AM REFERRING TO THESE SUPPLY FORMS. A CASE OF DIAPERS, TWO CASES OF FORMULA, ONESIES, BABY BLANKETS, ETC. THIS, AND I USE THE TERM VERY LOOSELY IN THIS CASE, IS A MARINE FIGHTER SQUADRON AND NOT THE INFANT'S DEPARTMENT AT THE EMPORIUM. THERE BETTER BE A GOOD AND BELIEVABLE EXPLANATION FOR ALL OF THIS OTHERWISE, BOYINGTON, YOU AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE DRUNKEN SCREW UPS UNDER YOU IS GOING TO BE COURT MARTIALED AND I'LL SEE TO IT YOUR ALL BEHIND BARS UNTIL WELL PAST THE NEXT CENTURY!"
"I'd like to see you pull that off," Greg thought to himself. "Sir, there is a very good explanation for all of this. The thing is, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"And that, Boyington is the first sensible thing you've said since I arrived, but enlighten me as to the reason why the sudden need for baby items."
Then it hit him as to the reason for them.
"BOYINGTON, IF ONE OF THOSE IDIOTS HAS GOTTEN ANY OF THE NURSES IN TROUBLE AND THERE'S BEEN A SHOTGUN WEDDING, I WON'T COURT MARTIAL YOU AND THE FATHER. IT WILL BE THE FIRING SQUAD FOR BOTH OF YOU!"
Greg wondered just how serious the Colonel was, but he really didn't want to find out either.
"Sir, let me assure you that none of my men have gotten any of the nurses in trouble," Then to himself added. "At least not that I know of and it might be a good idea for us to have another lecture on ways to prevent that and other things from occurring."
Greg then went on to explain about Casey and TJ finding the baby and that they were waiting for Sister Mary Elizabeth to let them know when she would have room at the orphanage to take her in. He purposely left out the fact that they may have found a family to adopt her, since he wanted to talk to General Moore and Sister Mary Elizabeth about that first.
The Colonel, however, was not sure whether or not to believe Greg, but he had heard enough of his excuses for one day and besides he was nearly late for an important meeting.
"Boyington, you can be sure of one thing, I will be back and I will get to the bottom of this even if I have to question every single one of those worthless miscreants out there."
"Sir, what about our supply order?" Greg asked innocently.
"Ooooooh, I'll sign the damn thing, but as I said I will definitely be looking into this matter, you can be sure of that," he replied as he drove off.
Seeing him leave the others stopped their game and Casey came out of Greg's tent with Emily, who had just awakened, but was still half asleep.
"What happened, Pappy?"
"Yeah, what was that all about?"
"Well, it appears Colonel Lard finally saw the baby items on our supply requisition forms and he's convinced that we've kept it from him that one of you has gotten one of the nurses in trouble. When he finds out who the secret "family" is "daddy" and I are going to face the firing squad."
At this statement there was a near riot as they were not sure whether or not Greg was serious about what the Colonel was threatening. Finally, after several minutes of talking with them Greg was able to calm them down and he explained that he planned to talk to General Moore and Sister Mary Elizabeth. First, to explain the situation to General Moore and then to Sister Mary Elizabeth to see how to go about starting the process so TJ's brother and sister-in-law could adopt Emily.
"While I'm arranging those meetings to talk with them everyone else go into the Sheep Pen and begin studying the reconnaissance photos French and Anderson took the other day that Casey will be bringing over in a few minutes. After you all have had a chance to see what's on those photos I expect everyone back in the Sheep Pen after supper at 1900 for a mandatory briefing concerning an upcoming mission."
Later that evening, everyone was waiting for Greg to arrive and they were curious as to what the briefing was going to be about.
"Casey, you get a lot of the radio messages from Espritos Marcos, you have any idea what's going on to explain why Greg called this meeting?" Gutterman asked.
"No, but I do know that he has been getting top secret reports from General Moore for the last few weeks, sometimes several times a day, so I think that something's about to break and we're probably going to be put right in the middle of it."
No one liked the sound of that and when Greg walked in with a stack of papers they grew very quiet.
"Everyone had better have looked over those photo's this afternoon because I just got word that what's on those pictures is only scratching the surface."
"What do you mean?"French, Bragg, and Anderson asked.
Greg passed around some additional photos.
"These just came in from General Moore's office. They're clearer photos taken, from a lower altitude, by a Navy squadron that was flying over the area in question at the same time as those rice balls were out on a patrol, so they didn't have any trouble getting so close. They thought General Moore would be interested in what was in the pictures and since this is the area we're going to be concerned with he was definitely interested. Looking at the pictures you can see why, if you look closely you'll notice that we're not dealing with an average bombing mission."
"Crap," Bragg said. "Is that an explosives manufacturing plant?"
"Not to mention I'm positive I'm looking at an ammunition dump," Boyle added pointing to an area on the photo he, TJ, and French also were looking at.
"So not only are we having to deal with the Zeros and those two big fuel storage tanks that we saw on the photos this afternoon, but enough incendiary power to cremate us if we're not careful," Casey commented.
Greg stood there taking in their reactions.
"You bet your sweet aunts we are," he replied. "That means we're going to have to go about this from a different perspective than I had originally planned.
Bragg raised his hand.
"Pappy, are those Zeros on patrol at the same time every day?" he asked.
Greg shuffled through a stack of papers he had set on the bar and finding the one he wanted skimmed over it for a few paragraphs.
"Yeah, they only deviated from the schedule a couple of times in the last few months and that was due to thick cloud cover in the area."
"So why not go in while they're gone, blow the hell out of the island, and then we get 'em when they return," Gutterman suggested.
"It might be dangerous, but we've flown dangerous missions before. Hell, some of those missions we practically created ourselves and then when it was over asked ourselves what were we thinking," Boyle admitted.
"We could have two teams, one team could incinerate what's on the island and the second team could stay back a ways and watch for the Zeros to return, as well as keep them from attacking the first team. Then when the first team joins up with the second we see how much damage we can do to them," French added.
I had to admit it; it just might work although it was going to take a hell of a lot of coordination and teamwork from everyone. Plus, I had to get it through their heads that the odds were good that some or all of us might not make it back. Still, if they were willing to take the risk who was I to stop them.
"What do you say Greg?"
"Yeah, Pappy, we can do it!"
Greg looked at each of them.
"You meatheads realize that some or all of us might not make it back and this is probably one of, if not the most dangerous mission we've flown simply because of the amount of incendiary power and explosives we're dealing with?"
No one said anything, but all heads nodded in understanding.
"All right, give me a few days to get everything finalized. We'll have another briefing then to make sure that everyone is clear on what's going on. I will say one thing, however those in the first team are going to have to take out everything on the first pass, since I have my doubts that we'll be able to go back through and destroy what we missed anytime soon as those rice balls will have heavy air and sea patrols over anything that we can't get, any questions? All right dismissed."
No one said a word as they left the Sheep Pen; they were all too stunned as the reality of what they were going to do hit them.
"Message for you, Pappy," Casey said later the next morning as he found him talking with Hutch about the upcoming mission.
"Thanks, I hope it's our orders for when we take off," Greg said taking it from Casey. He looked it over, putting it back in his shirt pocket slightly disappointed. "No and Lard's crazy if he thinks anyone's going to take this crap seriously."
Then taking it from his shirt pocket he read it again and a thought crossed his mind.
"Casey, post this in the Sheep Pen I think we can have some fun at Colonel Lard's expense," he said smiling.
"What was that about?" Hutch asked as Casey headed towards the Sheep Pen.
"The Colonel wants suggestions on how we think he is doing his job and how we feel he can do it better as well as suggestions on how to improve moral. It's something that he heard about while he was at a conference in Washington, D.C. a few weeks ago and he wants to implement some of the suggestions, if at all possible."
Hutch looked at Greg wondering if he had heard him correctly.
"I know," Greg replied. "Personally, I think Lard's full of prunes, but as I just told Casey I see this as an opportunity for us to have some fun at Lard's expense. He wants feedback and suggestions and if I know these guys they're going to give him some feedback and suggestions, but whether or not they're appropriate isn't my problem."
"He asked for it and you all are going to give it to him," Hutch said.
"You got that right," Greg replied.
It was a week later and the Black Sheep were still awaiting word as to when they were going to carry out the mission to bomb the targets on Bougainville. In addition, Sister Mary Elizabeth was waiting on paperwork from her order in the United States regarding interviews and assessments on the suitability of TJ's brother and sister-in-law to be Emily's parents. Greg had spoken to General Moore about that particular situation and as a result Colonel Lard was off his back, at least in regard to Emily, who was now three months old and had outgrown the basket. TJ and Casey had made her a bed from a large wooden box and several of the nurses had taken a blanket and some stuffing, from some old pillows, and made a mattress for it. Right now, she was outside with Anderson and Bragg. Greg was laying on his cot mentally trying to work out how he wanted to go about taking out the three targets on Bougainville once they got the go ahead to proceed. He hadn't realized he had drifted off to sleep until a soft bleating in his ear awoke him and he found himself eye to eye with a very tiny, black lamb.
"What are you doing in here?" he said to himself. Then he glanced around his tent and noticed three other full grown literal black sheep wandering around.
"I must be dreaming," he thought.
He knew he hadn't been drinking, at least not since last night, and even then he hadn't had as much as he usually did, so what other explanation could there be for three sheep and a lamb to be wandering around his tent.
Just then French and Boyle ran into his tent.
"Finally, we found them!" Boyle exclaimed excitedly.
"Found what?" Greg asked not in a very good mood after being awakened from a nap and still not quite sure what was going on.
"The four lost sheep. We've searched almost the entire camp and couldn't find them anywhere," Boyle explained.
"So happy to be of assistance Little Beau Peep, now could one of you tell me what is going on and why in the hell do I have four sheep in my tent?"
"They arrived an hour ago on a cargo plane," French told him.
"What did?" Greg was still half asleep and it wasn't quite registering with him what they meant.
"The black sheep," Boyle replied as if it was a common occurrence for them receive livestock."
"You're the Black Sheep or you were the last time I checked," Greg sat up even more confused and the baby lamb walked over and nuzzled against him.
"Not us, these black sheep, all 214 of them," French said trying to clear things up.
"WHAT!" Greg stood up and walked to the door looking out. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THERE ARE 210 MORE BLACK SHEEP RUNNING AROUND OUT THERE!"
French and Boyle nodded.
"AND HOW IN THE HELL DID THEY GET HERE AND WHY DIDN'T ONE OF YOU MORONS WAKE ME UP SO I COULD TAKE CARE OF THIS SITUATION. TELL ME THAT GOD DAMMIT!" he shouted turning around.
"Apparently," French explained. "Whoever processed the last supply form you sent in mistook our squadron name and number for part of the order, so VMF 214, the Black Sheep, are now, at least for the time being, the owners of 214 black sheep.
"Casey is on the radio trying to contact someone who can straighten out the mistake and Gutterman, TJ, and Hutch are trying to get them corralled behind the Sheep Pen. They're not having much luck, as the sheep keep escaping and we've all been chasing them through the camp," Boyle added.
"However, Emily is having fun with the other 13 baby lambs, but I don't think I can say the same for Anderson and Bragg as they keep trying to nibble on their pants pockets, not to mention one of them made a mess on Anderson's boots," French said.
Greg realized that meant there were 200 adult sheep and 14 baby lambs that he had to do something about.
"I think I better get out there and see what I can do to help get them rounded up," he said keeping his voice as calm as possible under the circumstances. "Go tell Casey that as soon as he hears anything to let me know and you two get these four lambs back with the others."
It took most of the afternoon, but finally everyone had gotten the sheep corralled in the fenced in area, that Gutterman, TJ, and Hutch had constructed behind the Sheep Pen. Greg would be the first one to admit that he had just about had all he could stand, as far as sheep were concerned, and they still had to solve the problem of what to do with the 214 they had now.
Greg had not heard anything out of Casey, yet regarding that matter and so he headed over to see what was going on. When he walked in he found Casey on the phone and not in very good humor. Casey, seeing Greg walk in, motioned for him to listen quietly and nodding Greg sat down on the corner of the desk wondering what was going on.
"No, Sir, we do not need any livestock...we are wanting to get rid of livestock, sheep, black ones, 214 to be exact...What's that...yes, yes we are, but I'm talking about four legged, wooly mammals that go baa, not a Marine fighter squadron based out of Vella La Cava."
Greg wondered who was more confuzzled Casey or whomever he was talking to.
Casey was silent for a few minutes.
"What, oh I see, okay, I understand these things do happen, but what are we to do in the meantime? I don't know if he'll be too happy to hear that, but I'll give him the message. You have a great afternoon too, goodbye."
Casey hung up the phone and looked at Greg.
"I have been on the phone for at least three hours, I have called everyone I could think that might be able to help us and I have been transferred to I don't know how many offices. Finally, I was connected to someone in Washington, D.C."
"And what did they say?" Greg asked certain he was not going to like the answer.
"They said that they processed the order as it was sent in and if we can't fill out the form correctly that's our problem and we'll just have to deal with it, but they cannot do anything about the sheep."
"Casey do you have a copy of the supply form that started all of this?"
Casey went to the filing cabinet, quickly located the file folder he wanted and pulled out the form handing it to Greg. Silently Casey waited as he looked it over.
"Asinine, bureaucratic mistake," Greg said. "Everything is filled out correctly. They just don't know how to read a simple form and as a result I have to deal with the trouble they've caused. You know I'd like to find out who processed this and send them the sheep."
It was several weeks before we got rid of the sheep. After making a series of covert liquor trades we finally were put in contact with the captain of a Navy cargo ship who, after implementing what could be considered as some less than above board tactics, we finally talked into taking the sheep off our hands and delivering them to the coast of Ireland. Of course, this was without a major sacrifice on my part as I was forced to give up four of the eight cases of very expensive scotch that had taken me almost a year to get directly from Scotland.