"That speech you gave yesterday, at the change of command ceremony. Do you have any idea what a hornets' nest you've managed to kick over?" Fore shoved the newspaper across the desk. It was a copy of the Connecticut Reporter and the headline read, "fair sex" not wanted on board. The subhead added, cryptically, sub skipper says "no" to women in submarines. A grainy photograph showed him at the podium during the ceremony the day before.
"What the hell is this?" Garrett asked, before remembering where he was, and adding, "sir."
"It's a liberal rag pushing women's rights, is what it is," Fore said. "Normally it doesn't get very much attention. But your little speech yesterday was seen as proof that the Navy is not interested in equal rights for women in the service. Apparently the wire services have picked it up and are even now echoing your words across the country. Damn it, Garrett, we had the whole issue pretty well back in the box, and your speech just let it all out in the open again. Would you mind telling me just what you had in mind with that talk you gave?"
Garrett tried to remember just what it was he'd said. "I think I was taken out of context, sir. I wasn't talking about whether or not women should be allowed on subs. I was talking about the hardships our sub crews have to endure… months at sea without seeing a woman."
"Oh, they got that part, too." Fore's finger stabbed at a paragraph farther down the column. "There's considerable talk here about your 'sexist remarks,' and there's an editorial in here that explains that you — and by extension, we—think of women as ornaments and kitchen drudges. You called them 'the fair sex,' for God's sake. How condescending can you get?"
"Damn it, sir, it was a joke."
"Your joke may have set the Navy's public relations program with regard to women in the service back twenty years. You are aware, are you not, that both NOW and the Patriotic Women's Front have been angling for years to get the Navy to admit women to male-only billets?"
"Yes, sir."
In fact, female naval personnel had already been brought aboard most ships in the Navy. After some tentative experiments back in the '70s and '80s, women now served aboard a number of U.S. ships, including her aircraft carriers, and a number of women were combat pilots.
But it took considerable effort — and therefore money—to redesign a ship to permit women the privacy of their own quarters and heads. That had been done, one way or another, on board surface ships, but a sub was something else. There was almost zero privacy on board a submarine, as Garrett had been trying to say in his speech, and the habitable spaces were so tightly packed with equipment, electronics, and life-support gear there was no room to expand. You couldn't simply add, say, a separate shower head and berthing compartment for women's use only without throwing out something else — weapons systems or reactor shielding or sonar gear or air scrubbers… and every single system on board a submarine was absolutely essential either to her mission or to the survival and well-being of her crew.
Women would not serve on board American submarines until those submarines were designed, from the keel up, to include them.
"When we start working on the next new sub design, sir, maybe we should talk to EB about installing quarters for women."
"That's just it, Garrett. The Virginia is a new design, the 'submarine for the twenty-first century,' remember? Your speech has stirred up all kinds of controversy out there about why the Virginia class is still… let's see. What did they say?" He turned the paper so he could read from it. "Yes, here it is. '… a no-girls-allowed clubhouse for the Navy's old-boy network.' They go on to say, 'Obviously, Commander Garrett does not believe women capable of the same degree of dedication and patriotism as men.' "
"I'd be happy to have female sailors in my crew, Admiral. Somehow, I don't think they'd care for the accommodations."
"And that is not the point. You departed from the text of your approved speech. Why?"
Garrett blinked. He'd submitted the text he'd written out ahead of time, yes, but somehow he'd thought that a formality. "I didn't realize my speech had to be approved in advance, sir."
"If it touches on political, controversial, or sensitive issues, of course it does. Damn it, you know the regs."
"Yes, sir." He just hadn't realized he was dealing with a controversial topic in the first place.
"There wasn't anything that would set off the NOW people in what you submitted. Why did you start shooting from the hip?"
"I don't know, sir. It seemed right at the time. The speeches were long and boring. I thought some light comments and some appreciation of the enlisted men's dedication would go down more easily."
"And the Patriotic Front is using that to claim you don't think women are dedicated enough to serve their country."
"That is not true at all, sir."
"True or not, the Navy Department is now engaged in some pretty extensive damage control. We've taken a pretty bad hit, here. I needn't remind you, Commander, that carelessness like this has ruined more than one promising young officer's career."
Garrett started to reply, then thought better of it. He'd not seen things in quite that light before. Damn it, the powers-that-were could scuttle him for a few chance comments.
"What can I do, sir?"
"To start with, no more comments to the press. If they phone you, and they will, I have no doubt, refer them back to my office. Second, all, repeat, all speeches you make will be submitted to my office for prior approval… and no departing from the prepared text. I don't care if you put them all to sleep in their chairs, you stick to the approved speech, with no ad-libbing. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Finally, you will prepare a public apology. Doesn't need to be long… a few paragraphs. Say that you had no intention of slighting the dedication and willingness to serve of our nation's female sailors and officers, that you would be proud to serve with them at any time, that the Navy has taken heroic strides to include women in all areas of endeavor… you know the drill. Submit it to my office for approval and distribution before 1600 hours today."
Garrett winced inwardly. His schedule today with the loading and provisioning of the Virginia was packed solid already. When would he have time?…
"Clear, Garrett?"
"Clear, sir." He would just have to make the time.
"Very well. How goes the provisioning?"
It took Garrett a moment to shift mental gears from the chewing out to ship's business. "Uh… fine, sir. We're on the sched for loading torps and TLAMs this afternoon. Final provisioning after that. We'll be ready for our planned 0700 departure tomorrow."
"Good. Your orders have already been sent aboard by messenger. You'll open them, as usual, when you're under way."
"Yes, sir."
"I will tell you this. You're going to have some new bluenoses in your crew."
Garrett's eyebrows reached toward his hairline. Bluenose was the name for personnel who'd crossed the Arctic Circle, much as the Royal Order of Neptune was awarded to men who'd crossed the equator, or the Golden Dragon was won by those who'd crossed the international date line. They were going north, then. "Under the ice, Admiral?"
Fore nodded. "You'll be shaking out Virginia's new under-ice sonar. And you'll be transiting to the Pacific. Because of the radical new technology involved, and because your mission will involve developing and evaluating strategy and tactics for a new weapons platform, Virginia will remain under the operational umbrella of SUBDEVRON 2. However, we want you back in your old stomping grounds for the next couple of months. Things might be heating up again in the South China Sea, and the planning staff thinks this will be a good test of Virginia's operational capabilities. They seem to think it won't hurt to have a man at the conn who's faced the Chinese before. Full details will be in your sealed orders, of course."