“He’s awfully close to the top of the list for Captain, sir,” Rudd protested. “Not more than four or five, I think.”
“All the better,” Captain Severn smiled. “One or two good patrols should cinch it for him. His father, Admiral Mealey, he’s retired now, was my skipper when I was a youngster. Very strict man, old Admiral Mealey. He made a man of me! There’s good blood in the Mealey line, good blood.
“While we’re at it we’ll give Mako a new Executive Officer. I’ll leave that to you, Rudd. Pick a man who will appreciate Commander Mealey’s devotion to rules and regulations. Check with me before you cut any orders.” He rose as a sign of dismissal and the Staff rose a second later and retrieved hats and put their coffee cups on the sideboard. Outside of the Staff headquarters building Rudd fell into step beside Ben Butler.
“Nice thinking, Ben,” Rudd said. “Damned quick thinking!”
“I figured that white-headed old rascal was going to crucify this Captain Hinman, whoever he is,” Butler said. “But I didn’t stretch anything, Bob. We do need a hero, a real honest-to-God hero! Americans have always been suckers for heroes. Tell me something, did this Hinman do such an awful thing?”
“He broke every rule in the book!” Rudd said with a slow smile. “And the book was written by Captain Severn!
“I had Art Hinman as my Exec on my last command here at Pearl. Hell of a good man. Great sense of humor. He saw fun and games in everything. Go to any length to play a practical joke. But a hell of a fine officer, the kind of man who could lead a crew to hell and back with all hands laughing all the way. I fought like hell to have him recommended for command. Severn, who hates Hinman’s guts, finally gave in and sent him to new construction, just to get him out of his hair. That was a couple of years ago.
“I almost pissed my pants when you turned Severn’s rudder around against him! But I’ll give old Iron-Ass credit, he’s cute. He could see he was looking right down the muzzle of a loaded gun! And you’d better watch it, my friend. He’ll find some way of getting rid of you and then who in the hell would I have to talk to?”
“Maybe he’ll send me on the bond tour with Hinman,” Butler said. “There’s a cooking editor on my newspaper, hell of a good-looking woman. I never could get into her pants when I was her editor. Maybe if I go back in uniform with a hero in my hip pocket she’ll give.”
“If you have that sort of problem there’s always the Navy nurses,” Rudd said.
“Let’s have a cup of coffee and talk about that,” Butler said. Rudd shook his head.
“Later. Right now I have to write a dispatch to Hinman telling him to come home and I’ve got to make it sound like it isn’t a reprimand and at the same time make it read so that all the other skippers out there who will read the message really get the message — which is don’t cross Captain Severn unless you sink a whole damned convoy!”
“Have fun,” Butler said.
Lieut. Cohen finished decoding the message addressed to Captain Hinman, U.S.S. Mako from Staff, SubPac and stared at the words. He shook his head and folded the paper carefully and put it in his shirt pocket and went in search of Mike Brannon. He found him in his tiny stateroom, wiping a smear of shaving cream from his chin. He held out the message.
Brannon’s eyes narrowed as he read the words. “Damn it! He never should have told them what he did!”
“It means trouble for him, doesn’t it?” Cohen asked.
“I don’t know, I think so,” Brannon said. “Old Severn, that’s Captain Severn, Chief of Staff, Submarines, Pacific Fleet, Nate, he’s got to be pulling his white hair out! The Old Man broke all the rules that Severn laid down for combat. But there’s something funny here. You can read this message two ways. They could be saying ‘Come home and let’s sit down and find out how you did this so we can tell others how to do it’ or they could be saying ‘Come home and get your ass reamed out!’
“I don’t know, I just don’t know but I think it’s the latter, they’re gonna ream him out! And maybe me as well!”
“Should I give it to him or do you want to do that?”
“You’ll have to give it to him,” Brannon said. “He’d have your ass in shreds if he knew you showed it to me. Put it in an envelope and carry it up to the bridge. There’s enough moon up there tonight to read by. And then stay out of his way for an hour or so. If he gets the idea they’re bringing us home so they can ream him out let him take it out on me. That’s what Executive Officers are for, Nate, to take the shit the Captain hands out. Remember that when you get to be an Executive Officer.” He put on a clean shirt and went into the Wardroom and poured himself a cup of coffee and waited.
Captain Hinman came in and filled a coffee cup and laid the message in front of Brannon. Brannon read it and looked at Captain Hinman.
“Do you want to lay out the course, sir?”
“Well, first I’d like to see a little enthusiasm, Mike! It’s no fun being ordered back to port with eighteen fish still aboard but I think we’ve done something for the cause. We’ve broken the dam, Mike! We modified the exploders and they worked! We attacked on the surface and it worked! Now they won’t have any choice but to write a new book of tactics, that’s the way I read it, don’t you? Show by doing, that’s the Navy way!”
“I guess so,” Brannon said slowly. “We sure as hell showed them,” he looked down at the message slip. “Departure route to Pearl is Seven George, Four X-Ray Zebra. I better get on that right away, sir.” He left the Wardroom and headed for the Control Room and his charts. Hinman watched the green curtain swing back into place after Brannon had passed through it.
He knows, he thought to himself. We’re being called home with eighteen fish aboard for only one reason, to be made an example of for disobeying orders. Well, let them do their damnedest! If I never fired another torpedo at an enemy ship I’ve made a down payment on evening the score for Marie’s death. He sat at the Wardroom table, thinking.
This would be the third time since the war started that he had returned to Pearl Harbor and for the third time there would be no long, lean, wonderful woman waiting for him. No one would ever wait for him again. He was alone, now.
But I remember, he said to himself, I remember the other times when she was waiting for me after we’d been apart.
Chapter 6
He remembered the last time they had met after a long separation. He had spent that morning cleaning the sparse quarters the Navy had assigned him at the New London, Conn., Submarine Base when he had reported there to take command of the submarine that was to be called the U.S.S. Mako. Then he had showered and shaved and put on his best dress blue uniform and went out and bought two bottles of champagne and a big bouquet of flowers. He put the champagne in the refrigerator to chill and dragged the wobbly-legged table in the living room of the quarters to a position where Marie would see it as soon as she entered the room. He put the flowers on the table, took a final look around to make sure everything was ready and then he had gone to the train station to wait for his wife. When the passengers from New York came streaming into the station he stood on tip-toe, straining to see Marie’s head above the crowd. He saw her, far down the platform and swiftly rehearsed his opening remarks.
“Going somewhere, baby?” he asked as he fell into step beside her.
“What do you have in mind, sailor?” she said.
“A drink or two, something to eat, show you my tattoo.”