Jabo was startled by the question. “Sir?”
“The rumor-of-the-month: that radiation on a nuclear submarine means you’ll only have girl babies. Have you ever heard this?”
Jabo nodded. “Actually I have, sir. Last patrol in maneuvering they were talking about it, after Chief Palko had his third kid.”
The XO furrowed his brow. “Yeah, that dickhead does have three girls, doesn’t he? I’ll have to get on his ass about that…it’s starting to be a problem. Somebody just wrote their congressman asking off the boat because of this bullshit.”
“Palko’s not the only one,” said Jabo. “I remember them going through the numbers…something like eight out of the last nine babies born to crew members have been girls.”
The XO grinned and stepped in closer. “So you believe this shit too Jabo? Think neutrons are doing something to kill off all your boy sperm?”
“I’m just saying…”
“You know Jabo, one of the things we ask of our junior officers is to not be stupid. So if you hear anybody contributing to this bullshit…help me put a stop to it.”
“Aye, aye sir.”
“What the fuck is that?” he said, suddenly turning his attention to the letter in Jabo’s hand.
“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to show it to the captain first.”
“Just what I was afraid of: a resignation letter. Another JO heading for the fuckin’ beach. I take it Microsoft was impressed with your resume?” He nodded his head toward the Captain’s stateroom. “Go on in, Jabo.” He stomped down the passageway, whistling loudly and cheerfully.
Jabo knocked on the open door. “Captain?”
“Come in Danny.” A captain could call a junior officer by his first name, but the reverse was never true. The fatherly Captain Shields was calming contrast to the XO, the two complementing each other as they led Alabama to its place at the top of all the squadron’s rankings. He had salt and pepper hair and a perpetual twinkle in his eye. Unlike the XO, he’d acquired no legends about his physical strength, although he had been an All-America swimmer at the Academy. But he had built a rock-solid career, culminating with his command of Alabama, on steady leadership and his almost freakishly comprehensive knowledge of submarine nuclear power. While sailors told stories about a push up contest the XO had won against a Marine Corps General, the captain was of a different caste. He looked like a man who not only could solve quadratic equations in his head; he looked like he was doing it all the time, effortlessly.
Jabo shuffled in and sat on the only other chair in the stateroom. “Captain, I’ve decided to resign my commission.”
The captain nodded thoughtfully, waited a beat, and then took the letter from his hands. He took his time reading it, and then handed it back. “I refuse to accept this.”
Danny waited, not knowing what to do, hoping the captain was joking.
“Sir?”
“I don’t understand Danny — you’ve always seemed like you enjoy your job to me.”
“I do like my job. And I love this ship.”
“So why get out? You can keep the fun going for twenty years or more, just like me.”
“I’m not sure it’s as much fun if I stay in. I like standing watch and driving the boat. Not writing training plans and filling in spreadsheets.”
“You think that’s what I do all day, Danny?”
“Not you, sir — but the department heads, frankly, yes. And that’s what I’d be doing next if I stayed in.”
“Believe it or not, Danny, being a department head can be fun too.”
“Like the navigator?”
The captain grimaced. “Come on, Danny. The nav isn’t a particularly good example. He’s at the end of a very demanding tour, five patrols as a navigator is a very long time.”
“It’s just…”
“So you’re afraid you won’t have as much fun as a department head? That’s the reason?”
“Captain, if you’ll read my letter, you’ll see that it’s not. I also wonder sometimes what we’re doing out here.”
“You don’t think what we do is important?”
“That’s right, captain.” Jabo felt ashamed to say it, but it was true. “We’re still running a platform that was originally designed to lob missiles at a nation that no longer exists. I feel like we’re just shadow boxing out here.”
“Listen carefully, Danny. Driving this boat and keeping it safe is important — maybe the most important thing you’ll ever do, certainly more important than chasing the next bonus at Microsoft.” The boat had lost their last two junior officers to Microsoft and it clearly irked the command. “And, if you don’t like our mission, get on an attack boat for your next tour — they’re in the fight.”
“Not really. I mean, I know they may get to go more places than us, support battle groups and ops like that, but it’s no different. Our enemies use box cutters now — you can’t really fight them with a nuclear submarine.”
Shields sat back in his chair and looked Jabo over. He was smiling. “Are you sure there’s nothing else going on here?”
The junior officer and his Captain looked at each other for a minute. Unlike the navigator, Jabo often felt like he had no secrets — it was something about the tight-knit community of shipboard life that he had never quite gotten used to. And, for the past six weeks, he’d had a big secret: his wife, Angi, was pregnant. If the captain had somehow intuited that pregnancy, than perhaps he had also intuited Jabo’s strong desire to not have a Navy family, to have his child be a Navy brat. He’d seen far too many screwed up families in the Navy, and no matter what he said in his letter of resignation, that was one of the best reasons he could think of for getting out. His wife was just starting to show the pregnancy on her slender frame, and she’d already entered the Byzantine world of military medicine, Champus, Tri-Care, and the navy hospital. Jabo wondered, as he looked at the Captain, if the secret was out.
“Captain, I’ve explained myself as best I can in my letter.”
“Okay. But I wasn’t kidding. I’m not going to accept your letter.”
“But—”
“I know, you’re worried about missing your twelve-month window. You won’t. I can’t tell you all the details right now, but we’re going to pull into port in a couple of weeks. If you still want to get out, I’ll endorse your letter then. But I think in the meantime you may see that it’s still possible to do some vitally important missions on a nuclear submarine. If I’m wrong, then I’ll endorse your letter and this will be your last patrol. Okay?”
Jabo nodded. He actually felt a sense of relief about not yet having his letter in, as well as a sense of excitement about learning whatever awaited them in their patrol orders. There’d been rumors, of course, especially with the sudden departure. “Okay, Captain. Thank you.”
“Thank you Danny — thanks for giving the Navy another two weeks.”
They looked at each other for another moment, Jabo waiting to be dismissed.
“You know, Danny, it is possible to raise a good family, to be a good family man,
and be in the Navy.”
Jabo nodded without saying anything. It was a discussion he didn’t want to have. The captain had a wife, and two daughters, and Danny couldn’t tell him that he thought they all suffered because of the captain’s chosen career. But moreover: he couldn’t do it. I can’t spend another sea tour away from Angi, he thought, another year where I see her more in my dreams than in real life. And if the captain asked him in response, don’t you think I love my wife? Jabo would have had to answer: I must love my wife more. It was the one vanity he allowed himself.