Mother America

Words at war. It was at four o'clock on the afternoon of April 8, 1942, that General Wainwright called me to his headquarters in the tunnel of Correjito. Hey? Oh, yes, yes, Colonel Robin, do I send for you?

He was sitting at the table. He wore no tie, his collar was open. It was hot, hot and humid. Your General Wainwright's haggard face looked as cold as stone. He pushed back a pile of reports and stood up.

Ramaloo, once before when you had a chance to leave, I asked you to stay on here. Now I am ordering you to leave Kurygadaw. What do you mean? I beg pardon, General Wainwright sir, but if I may ask, why?

General MacArthur wants you with him in Australia. There is no further point in your remaining here. A tan? A tan is hopeless, fellow. Hopeless. By the utter lack of expression on his face, I knew he was a man who had gone beyond emotion.

I knew that he wept for his voice on the tan. I started to say something about not wanting to go, but he put his hand up to silence me. At seven tonight take the little lunch to the tan, over the airfield.

And there he will take off to Mindanault, where he will report to General Roxas... Where you will report to General Roxyz in General Sharp? Here are your secret orders. He was appropriate and official. I felt touched.

I couldn't find anything to say but... Goodbye, sir. Wait, Colonel. Colonel Raminu, when you get to Australia, the President is on and General MacArthur, I'll do my best to the end. I will, sir. Goodbye.