That one talk led to a longer one and, in ensuing weeks, a number of casual dutch treat lunches that she seemed to enjoy. Her apparent pleasure made him ecstatic. He realized he had a crush on her. They had found common ground in their mutual expertise on Russia, and he was delighted to realize that someone as lovely as she could be so intelligent and educated.

The lunches were followed by an offer to take her out on a real date, which, to Steve's astonishment, she accepted. So why the hell did she want to see a Laurel and Hardy film? Because, she had answered, it made her happy and these times were so gloomy that she sometimes needed something silly to lift her spirits. Silly like going out with him, he wondered, and banished the idea. He was slipping off his tie when the phone rang.

"Lieutenant Colonel Burke," he answered, still uncomfortable with the title the army had conferred on him. A mature woman's voice asked if he could confirm that he was indeed the Lieutenant Colonel Steven Burke of the Russian Section of the War Plans department, and he assured her he was. She then informed him that General Marshall would like to see him immediately.

"Which General Marshall would that be?" he asked innocently. There were a lot of generals in Washington, D.C.

There was the sound of gentle, middle-aged feminine laughter. "Colonel, you are being summoned by the chief of staff."

He flipped a mental coin. Either the caller was telling the truth or someone was playing a joke on him. He felt it was the latter. He was about to make a snide comment when the woman continued. "Let me reiterate; you are the Lieutenant Colonel Burke who is a Russian expert on the War Plans staff, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Well, there are a number of Colonel Burkes around as well as, just perhaps, more than one General Marshall, and I so wanted to make certain I had the right one too." The caller had teased him gently, but he still felt his face flush. "Yes, Colonel, the General Marshall who is chief of staff of the U.S. Army does wish to see you, and right now. Does that pose a problem?"

"No, ma'am," he said weakly.

"Fine. A staff car will be around for you in fifteen minutes." With that, the woman hung up.

Fifteen minutes, Burke thought. If it's a gag, I can go along with it for fifteen minutes, but I'll be damned if I'll wait up all night.

The car arrived in ten.

BURKE STOOD AT attention but squirmed inwardly as General Marshall eyed him coldly. Despite being in the War Plans department and working in the Pentagon, Burke had never before met the man, although he had seen him on a number of occasions. Marshall was aloof, austere, correct, and had a reputation, perhaps undeserved, for personal coldness.

"Relax and sit down, Colonel."

Burke did sit as he was told, although it was difficult to relax in the presence of the four-star general who gave directions to both Eisenhower and, when possible, to MacArthur, who thought himself superior to everyone. He had been driven directly to Marshall's office at the Pentagon and an aide had whisked him immediately into the general's presence. He still had no idea why he was there in the spartan office.

"Colonel, you are purported to be an expert on Russia. Why?"

The bluntness of the question startled Burke, but he recovered. "Sir, prior to enlisting, I was a professor of Russian history at Notre Dame. The subject has always fascinated me, particularly the upheavals of the revolution and after."

"How did you get into War Plans?"

"After Pearl Harbor, I thought I should enlist. Since the army doesn't want thirty-six-year-old privates and I was too old for normal officer training, I was turned down. Fortunately, a friend of mine knew Eisenhower and submitted a résumé. The general thought the War Plans group should have someone with my background on the staff, and I was appointed." He flushed slightly.