In the wheelhouse, its side torn open to the sea and sky, a seaman held the spokes and listened to Wingate’s helmm orders.
At the rear of the wheelhouse, the coxswain, Tommy Mangin, and the chief quartermaster, Rumsey, lay together, arms and legs entwined, where they had fallen. A man had been blasted to fragments, another barely marked. One of the latter was Midshipman Keyes. He was found by the plot table, with the navigator’s yeoman on top of him. Keyes had had his eyes tightly closed. As if, Vaughan explained, he had heard the shell coming. In his hand was a picture of a showgirl. Like those you saw in the foyers of lesser-known theatres.
When the doctor told Wingate about it later, he had said harshly, “She was Allan’s girl.”
Above the bridge Rankin bandaged one of his spotters and thought of his wife. After this he would really change things.
Mr. Noakes had died in the battle, cut down by a white-hot splinter even as he had shouted angrily at a cowering seaman. It seemed only fitting he should die angrily and bitterly. As he had lived.
Tyson’s body was never found, and had probably gone when the shell had struck the ship by X gun.
Owles took a pot of hot coffee to the bridge for his captain, but when he had been unable to pour it because of his hands shaking so badly, he had broken down and cried.
For Drummond it had been almost the worst part. The final revelation of battle.
He said, “Course for Falmouth, Pilot. Then we’ll make a signal to Admiralty. Smash-Hit completed. ” He touched Owles’ arm, trying to help him. “Moltke destroyed.” He hesitated, recalling the Lomond’s wild attack. “By Captain Dudley Beaumont.”
Ives wrote it all down and then took Owles by the sleeve. “Come down with me. I could use a tot.”
Many hours later, as the escorting destroyers reduced speed and allowed Warlock to complete her entrance into Falmouth alone, Drummond read through a whole sheaf of signals which had accompanied his ship as faithfully as any escort.
Congratulations. Questions. Orders.
He glanced sideways at Sheridan and said, “I’m being given another command, David.”
Sheridan watched him, seeing the emotions crossing his strained features. “Congratulations.”
Drummond continued quietly, “Something new. Not even completed yet.”
He watched the land sliding out to greet them, the crowds lining the shore to watch the little destroyer creeping past the buoys. How silent they were when they saw the scars, the cruel marks of their sacrifice.
She would be there waiting for him. He just knew it. She had to be.
He said, “Warlock’s new skipper is already appointed.” He ran his hand along the teak rail, pausing to touch a jagged splinter-mark as if he was feeling a wound. “The ship will be going into dock for repair and conversion to long-range escort. Like your last ship, David.”
“I see, sir.” Sheridan hesitated, knowing there was more, feeling Drummond’s sense of loss. “But to me she’ll always be a destroyer, sir. In the best sense of the word.”
Drummond could not look at him. “She’s yours, David. Your promotion and appointment have come through. ” He reached out impetuously and added, “Take care of her.”
Wingate had been watching them from the compass platform. He said quietly, “Ten minutes, sir.”
Sheridan stepped away. “I’ll go forrard, sir.”
Drummond nodded. He saw a seaman carrying Badger’s familiar basket along the iron deck. So many had died, but the cat had survived.
Later, as the mooring wires went ashore and the waiting onlookers surged as near as they could get to the listing ship, Drummond stood alone on the deserted bridge.
He took one last long look around, feeling the ship dragging at him and then just as quickly letting go.
As he walked down the ladder a signalman held out a stained battle ensign. “The only one left, sir.”
“I’d like Keyes’ girl to have it. Give it to the navigating officer.’
It might help her to understand. To know what she had done to make a boy’s last days on earth happy.
He paused at the brow, seeing Sheridan and Wingate, Rankin and Galbraith in his filthy boiler-suit.
Sheridan said quietly, “I relieve you, sir.”
Drummond shook his hand. “Then I will leave the ship.”
He knew that there were many people waiting to see him, and he thought he saw Sarah being helped through the crowd by Kimber and Miles Salter. But for a moment he looked up at the battered ship and then gave a slow salute.
As Sheridan had said. She was a destroyer. Now and always. They could never take that away from either of them.