Later in the day, the dense, smoky, oil-laden clouds would drift eastward, creating a black rain that would cover the southernmost tip.of Iran, reaching across the border into Pakistan. There would be little fishing for years to come and the blackened shores on both sides of the strait and the Gulf of Oman would reflect the disaster for an equal amount of time.
The loss of a freighter, or even a small tanker, might not have created as much furor around the world as this one unexpected mistake in communications. Within hours, the nations of the world — First-World, Second World, Third World — were clamoring for a halt in this sudden war between the two world powers, a war over a misunderstood plot of guano in the Indian Ocean.
The concept first appeared on wall posters in Peking only hours after the loss of the Prince of Peace, which had followed on the heels of the unfortunate Soviet landing at Islas Piedras. There was no longer concern about security of communications either in Moscow or Washington. Their losses had been tremendous. Che world was only too well aware of the danger that now existed. The wall posters stated:
A blatant message has been sent to the peaceful nations of the world that the two superpowers are willing to go to any length to establish superiority over the other, including hazarding the hegemony of Third World countries in their own affairs. If they are not willing to come to the peace tables within twenty-four hours, then it is time for the remainder of the world to bring them to their knees.
Peking saw the chance. Once and for all, Russia would be established as a dangerous aggressor. And the United States would have to listen to China now, instead of assuming a big brother role.
While other world leaders might not have interpreted Peking's basic reasons, they were willing to add their names to the list. Moscow and Washington were overwhelmed by the anger directed at them.
I have won. They will not get to Islas Piedras. Alex has won. He proved that the Soviet fleet can stand against us, toe to toe. Nobody has won. We have simply proven that we can hammer each other into a surreal state without the use of nuclear weapons. Maybe if we had used the atomic warheads and hit the other's capital ships first, there would not have been such unacceptable loss.
I feel like Chief Joseph. He was correct. He should be considered the great American, and maybe he would be if people had only listened to him. He said he would fight no more. He was a man of wisdom. He was also shouting into a hurricane, for his words were carried away before he could be understood. He knew.
Apparently we have to prove it to ourselves each time, just in case something might be balanced in our favor. I know how hard it is to turn the other cheek. We were well prepared, and I suppose we can say the day is ours. But is that what they're saying right now? I think so.
I wouldn't be sitting here now, making this entry, if I hadn't gone to the captain's cabin to borrow some clothes. The only item I took with me from Nimitz was this log, wrapped in the old watertight case that Maria gave me. I remember her card: "To the next Mahan." I had the log under my arm when I came in here, and decided I had to write even as I sit here in my skivvies. It just hit me. Who won and what was won? I kept staring back at Nimitz engulfed in flames. Over and over in my mind, I kept thinking of Chief Joseph as we pulled away.
I've made my decision. It's time for new warriors. The old ones are tired.
TASHA, MY LOVE,
There is a loneliness in command that goes beyond what any book has ever been able to describe. I cannot put it into words myself, but you would know it if I were beside you now, for my eyes must be telling that awful truth. Most of all, I want my father to know, even though I am not sure he would understand.
You must insist that my father tell you what has happened here on the Indian Ocean. You will not be able to read it thoroughly in the papers, but I want you to know my part in it. Briefly, we have fought over a period of a few days a vast sea battle, possibly one of the greatest in history. It was against the Americans, and my enemy (even-briefly in my own mind, I think) was David Charles. I say "briefly" for that arrogance on my part passed quickly. I believe I have accomplished much for my country, but I am not sure what I have given up to do so. While we have proven to the world that in less than half a century we have been able to stand up to the greatest seapower in history, I find little to take personal pride in. The person that I had been trained to think I was is no longer me. While written words can't describe these feelings, perhaps you, in your own special way, will understand when I return.
The only way I can describe the feelings I have is to remind you of that American politician David told us about once. The man probably lived in the wrong era, for when asked what he wanted to do after literally giving his waking moments to his country, he said, "I want to sip red wine and watch the people dance," or something to that effect. He died before he could ever achieve that dream, and I don't want to. I want to sip the wine with the people, and I want to dance with them.
I count the moments until I am home with you and can give the love that has too often been bottled up inside me. Tell Pietr that he, too, is constantly in my thoughts.
With love,
Alex
DEAREST MARIA,
It is entirely possible that by the time this letter arrives, we may already be together again. You will have read in the newspapers and watched on television what I have been involved in. Whatever is twisted by the media can be corrected by Sam Carter.
I have always felt a deep pride for my Navy and my own small contribution to it. There is now a deep, deep hurt that will forever dig at me for my intensity in trying to destroy Alex's force and even Alex himself. There is something ingrained in most of us from childhood that brings out love or faith in country, an abiding nationalism perhaps, that I now know takes precedence over friendship. I have been increasingly concerned about that the last few days as I led my men directly at the Soviet force. Beyond Sam Carter, Alex, a Russian naval officer, may be one of the men I am closest to emotionally and intellectually. I can't describe it beyond that, and I don't know if I will ever be able to describe such a feeling to you.
Should anything happen to me before we are together again, I want you to know I am ashamed of nothing I have done. While the Navy may say what I am about to do is contrary to my oath, I followed orders and served my country as best I could. To me, choosing the military as a career never meant that I was choosing war — that I accepted, if there was no other alternative. While I may have some misgivings as I write this note, I can say with certainty that my concept of duty will eventually overcome any self-doubt.
You have been able to understand me when I can't express myself well, and feel what I feel when I say nothing. Then you know as you read this how you and the children are with me always, and that our own love becomes stronger each day.
With love,
David
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A haggard David Charles listened to Bill Dailey's casualty reports. The Chief of Staff was subdued, his eyes more tired than ever" before, his shoulders a bit more rounded, his voice without its normal crispness.
"… fuel for the gas turbine ships is dangerously low. We were unable to top off each one when we spent the night in the Seychelles, and some of the small boys have been operating at flank speed since then. They haven't got more than a day before it's critical."