“Yes. Layton made admiral, but he dragged his feet at printing his story of the war. So much of it was highly classified. His book “And I was there” didn’t come out until 1985, and that was posthumous, too.”

“I still can’t believe it was a drydock they forced him to. I imagine that ensured he would never get any recognition for the rest of the war. That was probably the only kind of ship that didn’t help bring the troops home.”
 
“True. It was quite remarkable. The Truman Administration could not stand  the public and bipartisan Congressional outcry to bring the boys home. There were demonstrations by troops in Europe and the Philippines by the end of the year. Only a dust-up overseas could have stopped the flood going home, and it didn’t happen. The Japanese efficiently disarmed themselves. December of ’45 was the biggest month for the Magic Carpet.”
 
The Doc furrowed his brow. “As I recall, nearly 700,000 servicemen came home that month alone. It was like someone had pulled the handle on a toilet to drain the tank. The American armed forces shrank from about twelve million in June of ’45 to one-and-a-half two years later. It would have a dramatic effect in the Pacific. By 1950, the North Koreans calculated they could push what was left of the American presence into the sea before we could respond.”
 
”My Mom still talks about the boys from her hometown coming back through New York. The one thing she was not going to do was go back to the Ohio River Valley. The war set her free.”
 
“It certainly did change things for a lot of people. But it was going to change again. Congress had passed a law that everyone who left a job to join the service would have that job waiting when they got home.”
 
“So, with your high point total, why didn’t you go home?”
 
Mac reached in his pocket for his wallet, I reached for mine and the Good Doctor reached for his, looking for all the world like a three-way Mexican stand-off.
.
“I told you everyone had a job to go back to, guaranteed by law. I had a bit of a problem. I had joined the Navy right out of the University of Iowa. I was one of the few people on the staff who had nothing to go home to.”
 
I won’t tell you who won the check, since you can probably guess. And I don’t need to tell you that what happened next, after serving under three revolving-door Fleet Intelligence Officers, Mac found himself on a boondoggle back to Washington, the new center of the universe.
 
Remember, he was a deck officer who had never served on a ship, and the future looked limited. After the Wahoo was sunk with all hands, he had decided the submarines were not for him. He was trying to figure out what the future might hold as he walked down the passageway of the third deck of old Main Navy by the Reflecting Pool on the Mall.
 

(ADMIRAL Forrest Sherman 1947. Official Navy Photo)
 
It was all luck again. He happened to see lean and energetic Admiral Forrest Sherman coming the other way, and the Admiral remembered Mac well from their days together on Guam, and greeted him warmly.
 
The Admiral put his arm around Mac, and said “I am concerned about all my Air Intelligence Officers. Most of the ones I recruited were lawyers, and with the war over, they have all gone back to civilian life. I need to start a cadre of intelligence professionals for this new world. We need to keep you, Mac. There is a selection board meeting right now to pick the first batch.”
 
Mac looked at him, curious.
 
“Here is what I want you to do. Take thirty days leave and go back to Iowa. Then you come back here and contact my EA Captain Espey. He will tell you what to do.”
 
Mac shook his hand. It was the last time he would see the Admiral in person, but it was just enough to determine the course of the rest of his life.
 
Copyright 2010 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
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