Campo was about to start a beginner’s class, his favorite. People new to the martial arts have no preconceived notions, and the classes are easier to teach and more fun. This class would include Simon Planck, the sailor who Captain Patterson ordered him to pay close attention to. Easy job, thought Campo. Give me an order and I follow it. He also relished the idea of helping this scrawny kid. Planck was one of 10 people in the class of seven men and three women.
“My name is Peter Campo, but you will call me Pete. You come to this class maybe not knowing how to swat a fly. I make you one promise: When you finish this class, flies will fear you.” That cracked everybody up, as Pete intended. His style was not to lord his martial prowess over his students, but to respect them and show them how to get the respect of other people. Contrary to normal rules, he addressed each person beginning with their rank, such as Seaman or Petty Officer, not simply their last name. It took a bit longer, but it also showed respect.
Campo also knew the importance of early success for his students, and he intentionally placed himself in a position to be thrown around so a student could get the feel of executing a correct move.
The class began with judo, the “gentle way.” But first, he ordered each of the students to bow in respect for each of the other students. He explained the simple idea behind judo, to use the force of an opponent against him. He asked Planck to come forward.
“Seaman Planck, I have a question,” said Pete. “Have you ever tripped and fallen?”
“Yes, Pete,” said Planck, thinking the question was dumb.
“Now Seaman Planck, did you notice that after you tripped, that the falling part was easy? You just went forward and hit the ground. It was easy because gravity did it for you. Judo is a lot like that. Now Seaman Planck, I want you to punch me in the nose. Don’t worry, I’m not wearing a sidearm. Go ahead, punch me.”
Seaman Planck threw the punch. Pete stepped slightly backward and to the right and grabbed Planck’s fist as if it were a thrown ball, simultaneously putting his right arm around Planck’s waist and gently throwing him to the matt.
“Gravity,” said Pete, “just threw our friend Seaman Planck to the mat with only a minor assist from me. I used his forward momentum and just helped it to keep going forward.” He did this five more times with Seaman Planck, asking everybody to watch carefully. “Now,” said Pete, “I’m going to throw a punch at our friend Seaman Planck.” Planck stiffened.
“Okay, Seaman Planck, here it comes.” Pete threw an arcing punch, aiming it in such a way that if he did connect it would be with the fleshy part of his forearm. Just as he had learned from watching Campo, Planck “caught” Campo’s fist and pulled his opponent toward him, flipping him to the mat (aided by Campo himself).
“Outstanding, Seaman Planck. Let’s hear it for this guy.” Everyone applauded. Planck bowed, as Pete slapped him on the shoulder. “Way to go, guy. Excellent job.”
Planck couldn’t remember the last time he felt proud. He didn’t have many opportunities.
Chapter 32
The day after Lincoln met with Navy Secretary Wells, he held a scheduled meeting of his eight cabinet members. The meeting began promptly at 8:30 a.m. Lincoln’s spacious office also served as the cabinet meeting room, with its large conference table around which each of the cabinet members sat.
The day was overcast with heavy low clouds, which cut down on the natural light from the windows. A staff member lit the gas lamps hanging on the walls. Two staff waiters walked around the table pouring coffee and circulating plates of buns. At 45 degrees, it was cold for mid-April, and everyone welcomed the hot coffee. The staff left the room after they completed their chores just before the meeting began.
Lincoln, seated at the head of the conference table, placed his elbows on the table and touched his fingers together creating a cathedral-like arch, a familiar pose to the men present. It showed neither aggressiveness nor reticence. The pose didn’t say I’m your friend or your enemy. The pose simply announced that it was time to get down to business.
“Gentlemen,” said Lincoln, “you are about to experience the strangest meeting that you will ever attend.” Lincoln sipped slowly from a cup of coffee to let his words sink in. The cabinet members glanced around the room at each other to see if someone understood why Lincoln said this. They noticed that Gideon Wells smiled broadly behind his huge white beard.
“Yesterday I had a long meeting with Secretary Wells over here,” said Lincoln, nodding in Wells’ direction. “That, gentlemen, was the strangest meeting I ever attended, and now Secretary Wells and I are going to let you join in the fun.” That brought a nervous chuckle from everyone.
As arranged, Wells reached into a large briefcase and withdrew a stack of documents, copies of the report summary that Campbell had given him. He passed them around. “Amazingly clear typeface,” noted the Postmaster General.
“Please take a few moments to read this report, and I’ll then ask Gideon to summarize his recent experience.”
Wells gave his report, summarizing his day on the USS California with Admiral Farragut and Commander Roebling. He also passed around the Navy photographs of other amazing vessels. Wells then got to the most salient point, the point that he, Farragut, Roebling, and now President Lincoln had reached.
“Gentlemen,” said Wells, “the Gray Ship, the USS California, does exist. It’s real, and it came here from the year 2013.”
Looks of shock and skepticism took over the room, the same shock and skepticism that recently hit Wells and Lincoln.
Wells then summarized the “history” of the Civil War that Chaplain Sampson provided, a history that would unfold over the next four years and would result in 620,000 casualties.
No one spoke for at least five minutes, each man hoping that someone else would ask a question or make a point that would dash this nonsense and bring them all back to reality.
Secretary of State Seward spoke. “Can we know for certain that the California is the only such ship afloat?” Secretary of War Cameron chimed in. “Exactly,” said Cameron, “from a military point of view that is the most important question.”
“I’ll ask President Lincoln to answer that question,” said Wells.
Lincoln stood and spoke. “The truth is, gentlemen, we don’t know. Gideon tells me that the captain and officers on the California are unaware of any other vessels.”
Lincoln raised his voice a bit. “But to say that there are no other American ships like the California plying the seas would be a lie. It would be as much a lie if I told you that I was certain there isn’t a herd of buffalo behind that wall. There may be a herd, there may not be a herd, but the truth is I don’t know.” Gideon Wells concealed a smile with his hand. This was the Abe Lincoln, the skilled lawyer that he heard yesterday.
Lincoln continued, “And, gentlemen, we don’t want to lie and say that there are no more Californias, because we don’t have actual knowledge that there are not. And we certainly don’t want to lie to Jefferson Davis and his rebel government do we?”
Everyone laughed, because everyone just got it. Cameron, the Secretary of War, said, “If I were in the Southern command, I would be frightened by the California. If I thought there may be dozens or hundreds more like her, I would be looking for a white flag to wave.”