"On November 8 Halsey flew in like a wonderful breath of fresh air. During a tour of the area he showed extreme interest and enthusiasm in all phases of the operation, concurring with my existent positions and future plans. More important, he talked to a large number of Marines, saw their gaunt, malaria-ridden bodies, their faces lined with what seemed a nightmare of years. I believe then and there he decided to get us out as fast as possible. Halsey's fine sense of humor demonstrated itself that evening when he complimented me on the dinner and asked to see my cook, Butch Morgan. Morgan appeared spick and span in clean skivvy shirt and khaki trousers, his red mustache carefully combed. He stood smartly at attention while Halsey effusively praised his cooking. As the admiral went on and on, Butch looked increasingly uncomfortable and began to twist his skivvy shirt and toe the ground. I knew something was coming from him but I wasn't sure what. Finally Halsey stopped for breath, an opportunity Butch exploited with, "Aw, ...., ...., ...., Admiral." I dismissed him as the group dissolved into laughter. The story quickly spread through the fleet and even reached Washington. The next morning Halsey decorated some of my officers and men before I escorted him to the airfield. At the plane he turned and with eyes twinkling said, "Vandegrift, don't you do a thing to that cook.""