His posting, to Queen Elizabeth, came in mid-March, and he was delighted; Queen Elizabeth was one of those fantastic new battleships, more powerful than anything else in the world, from their fifteen-inch guns to their tremendous speed — even if they did have a reputation for being ‘wobbly’, that is, slightly top-heavy in a seaway. And he found the ship just as exciting as he had supposed he would, even if she was, as he had feared, stationed in Scapa Flow at the very north of the British Isles. He wrote to May to tell her so, and received a letter back which was less ebullient than the ones he had already received. And yet more exciting. ‘I have been thinking,’ she wrote, ‘that perhaps we shouldn’t wait for two years. Maybe Uncle would go along with the idea of us being married, after all. Do write to say if you can get a furlough some time soon.’
She was the most changeable of women. And yet the most marvellous. He immediately wrote back to tell her he would marry her the moment he could get time off, wrote to his father to tell him, something he had been meaning to do and had not quite got around to — mainly because he hadn’t been quite sure how Father would react — and then had the idea of marriage put entirely out of his mind when the chief petty officer in charge of his mess suddenly announced, ‘You won’t believe this, Yank, but your President has declared war on Germany.’
Chapter Five
Annapolis, 1917
Lew had been so preoccupied with thoughts of May and his new ship that he had not been reading the newspapers, but it appeared that despite warnings from Mr Wilson since his re-election, Germany had gone ahead and resumed unconditional submarine warfare. More American lives had been lost, and the President had indeed asked Congress to declare war. It was what Lew had been waiting for from the moment the torpedo had struck the Lusitania.
America was at war! Father was at war, again! He would be taking his new ship to sea to fight the Germans. They would be fighting shoulder to shoulder, at last. Only they wouldn’t be, shoulder to shoulder.
But they had to be shoulder to shoulder. He asked to see the commander, and after they had talked, the commander took him to see the captain himself.
Lew had actually met the captain when they had joined, for the great man had made a point of shaking the hand of his famous new recruit. Now he listened sympathetically. ‘I will forward your request to Admiral Beatty,’ he agreed. ‘I, we, will be sorry to lose you, McGann, but I am sure we can all appreciate your feelings.’
Lew dashed off a hasty letter to May, informing her of what was going to happen, and asking her what she actually wanted him to do, but to his surprise the permission for him to take an honourable discharge came through far quicker than he had expected, and before he got a reply from her. Then he was suddenly the centre of a whirl of activity. The admiral, and the Admiralty, wanted to give the fullest publicity to the sudden co-operation they anticipated between the Royal and the United States Navies, which united could certainly lick all the world put together, and Lew McGann was a perfect subject for such publicity. ‘SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD AMERICAN HERO LEAVES NAVY TO SERVE WITH US SHIP,’ screamed the headlines, and he was photographed again before being despatched to London, where he met the First Sea Lord, before being placed on a vessel bound for New York. He was escorted every inch of the way, and rather gathered they were determined to make sure he was actually transferred to the US Navy just as rapidly as possible, and wasn’t just trying to sneak off.
He was desperate to get in touch with May, and even broke the rules by attempting to telephone the hospital. He got through at the third attempt, in an hour he had to spare between trains, and spoke with Matron. ‘I’m afraid Nurse Gerrard is not available right now,’ she said, somewhat stiffly.
‘Oh, heck,’ Lew said. ‘It really is terribly important, Matron.’
‘Is it?’ Matron asked, more stiffly yet.
‘It...’ he hesitated. Obviously he couldn’t tell Matron anything remotely resembling the truth, but he didn’t know if he was going to get a chance to phone again. ‘Would you give her a message?’
‘What sort of message?’ Matron asked.
‘Will you tell her that I have to go back to America. Now that we’re in the war too I have to join our navy, you see. Tell her I’ve written to her to explain, and that I’ll write again as soon as I get there, and we’ll make...arrangements. She’ll know what I mean. Tell her it’ll only be a short delay, because I’m certain to be back over here in a month or two. Will you tell her that, Matron?’
‘If I can remember anything of it, McGann,’ she said. ‘But it really is most improper. Good day to you.’ She hung up, leaving Lew chewing his lip in uncertainty. But much as he adored May, this was something far bigger. And it had been her decision that they should wait; if she had half changed her mind about that, well...it would only be a few months more. He wrote her another letter from Portsmouth before sailing, telling her how much he loved her but how he really had no choice.
*
It was uncanny to be crossing the Atlantic again, and now there were many more U-boats than two years earlier: indeed English shipping losses had become staggering. Lew hardly slept for the first two days, spent much of his time on deck looking for the telltale streaks of white under the surface.
And two days only took them just west of Ireland, because this ship was nothing like as fast as the Lusitania. The passage therefore took seven days instead of just over four, but Lew found himself gradually able to relax as they got beyond the range of the U-boats without seeing an enemy. Most of the passengers were like himself, Americans returning to join up, and they had all heard or read of Able Seaman McGann, D.C.M, which made their company very pleasant.
While the New York papers had been informed of his coming, and were there in force to welcome him, to take photographs of his arrival and of his reunion with Father, who had been given special leave to come up and greet him; the American Navy had not yet actually put to sea. ‘Lew!’ Father said, hugging him. ‘This is the greatest day of my life...’ he didn’t finish the sentence, because of course it wasn’t the greatest day of his life — only the greatest day since May 1915. But the crowd cheered and more photographs were taken, and then they were given a ticker tape ride into the city.
‘Am I going to serve with you, Father?’ Lew asked.
‘Well...no. Not right away, anyway. The fact is, you’re going to get a commission.’
‘Me?’
‘Why not? You may not have been to Annapolis yet, but that’s where you’re going now, on a crash course. After all, you have more experience of naval warfare than almost anyone in this man’s Navy.’ He grinned. ‘Including myself.’
Next day they took the train down to Washington, from where Father would rejoin his ship at the Norfolk Navy Yard. They sat opposite each other, and Father said, ‘Now tell me about this May Gerrard.’
Lew hadn’t been sure whether to anticipate this moment or not; in these new circumstances he rather regretted having written on the subject at all. ‘You remember May Gerrard, Father,’ he said. ‘She’s the girl from the Lusitania.’
‘I remember her very well,’ Joe McGann agreed. ‘You saved her life, which I imagine created some kind of a bond. But...marriage? At sixteen? How did you meet her again?’
‘She was a nurse at the convalescent home. And...we sort of fell in love. I was there a long time,’ he added hastily.
‘You fell in love. At sixteen? Do you really suppose you know what love is all about, Lew?’
He was speaking reasonably rather than pompously, but of course Lew had no intention of telling him about the week in Lyme. ‘I was seventeen,’ he explained. ‘And she’s nineteen.’
‘Does she know your age?’
‘Oh, yes. We don’t mean to get married now,’ he explained. ‘We just want to become officially engaged, and...well...’
‘Have you spoken to this girl’s guardian?’
‘Well, no. I didn’t have time. I was going to, but then all of this happened...’
‘And you haven’t changed your mind?’
‘Oh, no, Father. I do love her. You have to believe that.’
‘Have you any idea how many more lovable girls you are likely to meet in your life, Lew? It’s very easy to make a mistake.’
‘I love May,’ Lew said stubbornly. ‘And she loves me.’
‘Okay,’ Joe said. ‘Okay. But as you can’t get married right away now, anyway, I think the right thing to do is play it cool for the time being.’
Lew didn’t want to argue any more; he was glad to have found Father so reasonable, as he and May knew what they were about, and in Washington there was the thrill of meeting Navy Secretary Josephus Daniels who, as an ex-newspaper editor, knew the value of good publicity and had himself photographed shaking hands with ‘America’s first naval hero of this war.’ But as soon as he was settled in at Annapolis he wrote to May again, to give her his new address, as he still hadn’t heard from her since that rather odd letter in March. Then he became entirely lost in his new surroundings, which were as different to his experience in the Portsmouth barracks as could be imagined, in that while there was drill for the cadets and basic seamanship, both of which he took in his stride, there was also navigation and gunnery control as well as American rather than British naval history, another subject he was able to sail through, as his family had played so large a part in making American naval history. He also had a room, rather than a barracks, which he shared with only one. His room mate was a Kentuckian named Daniel Walsh, actually a year his elder, but like everyone else in the Academy somewhat in awe of his war-tested companion. Even the instructors treated Lew with a certain amount of respect, and he was required to lecture the class on the mistakes, and experiences, of Jutland.
There was also a far more attractive uniform to wear, with its well-cut double-breasted dark blue jacket and matching pants and its smart peaked cap — and there were also far more attractive girls to be found when off duty. No whores for the future midshipmen of the United States Navy; instead there were balls which it seemed all the best of Maryland girlhood wanted to attend, and there were invitations to follow up such encounters with visits to private homes. Lew initially had no intention of accepting any of these, but he found them hard to avoid when they came from important people, and of course he had to attend the dances. He was also concerned and a little miffed that he had not heard from May. He knew from experience what a changeable girl she was, and how easily she could become angry, but the thought that she could have been upset by his determination to fight for his country just didn’t make any sense to him. He was also concerned that time was rushing by, and in a few weeks he would be assigned to a ship and go to sea, when getting in touch with her, and even more, getting a reply back, was going to be next to impossible. He sent off another couple of letters, but it was not until he was into his sixth, and final, week that he at last received a reply — from Matron:
I think you should know, McGann, that Nurse Gerrard left the hospital at the end of March. I was therefore unable to deliver your telephone message. It is not my place to say anything about her that she might not wish to say to you herself but I owe it to you to tell you that she departed under something of a cloud. As far as I know she has left the nursing service, and I have no idea where she is now. I forwarded your earlier letters to her home address in Kent, but received them back, unopened, and with no covering letter. I have now burned your letters, unopened, and would therefore be obliged if you would stop writing to her here, and if as I presume to be the case, you consider yourself to have formed an attachment to the young woman, I think it would be sensible of you to attempt to direct your affections elsewhere.
He sat and stared at the letter for some time, unable to comprehend what had just been told him — because it was all so incomprehensible. He and May had said goodbye, in the most loving possible fashion, on February 4. She had written to him in the middle of that month and again at the end, at Portsmouth, and then she had written to him mid-March at Scapa Flow. That had been the letter in which she had suggested they might after all be able to get married sooner than he had expected. He had received the letter several days later, and therefore his reply would not have reached the hospital until after the beginning of April. By which time she had already left! Had she been dismissed? Matron’s words certainly made that seem possible. But how on earth could a girl like May Gerrard, the niece and ward of a man like Clive Gerrard, be dismissed. Even if she had been dishonest or something like that...but how on earth could a girl like May Gerrard ever be dishonest? And why the hell had Matron not told him all of this on the telephone, while he was still in England and might have been able to do something about it? Nothing made sense.
Except that she had received none of his letters, and that therefore she did not even know he had left the Royal Navy...no, she would surely know that, because it had been in the papers. But she would only know what he had done...without, it would appear to her, telling her anything.
He felt quite sick. May, beautiful, adorable, unforgettable May, thinking he had deserted her. And he had no idea how to get in touch with her; she had never told him her uncle’s address in Tonbridge. He lay on his bed biting his fingers in anguish. To have found so much, and then lost it...almost as if she too had drowned on the Lusitania. He had the wildest urge to flee the Academy, and take a ship to England, and there...do what? Presumably he could go to Tonbridge and locate her uncle — but his letters had been returned unopened. And the way she had left the hospital, it was at least as likely that she had taken up with some other man. He knew she had not been a virgin when she had gone to Lyme. Why the whole thing, her pretended love, might have been just a charade for her. Because, as Robby would have put it, she definitely had ants in her pants.
But May...to abandon Annapolis would not only ruin his career, the only career he had ever considered from the day of his birth — in time of war it would make him a deserter.
‘You all got a problem,’ Daniel remarked, having just entered the room.
‘Yeah,’ Lew agreed.
‘Women, eh?’
Lew sat up. ‘How did you know?’
‘Well...’ Dan sat on his bed, opposite him. ‘You ain’t got a family, right, ‘cepting your dad, and he kinda worships the ground you walk on, I reckon. So you get a letter, and you’re real unhappy...’
‘Yeah,’ Lew agreed. ‘Women.’
‘Well,’ Dan said. ‘There sure are a lot of them about, Lew, boy. You coming to the social? I reckon that dark kid is gonna be there.’
‘Yeah,’ Lew agreed. ‘I’m coming to the social.’
Not especially to encounter that dark kid who was the daughter of the commandant, Captain Grant. He just felt like getting drunk and forgetting some of the problems which suddenly were crowding upon him. But Brenda Grant certainly was there, and she was more than just a dark kid. She was, in fact, a girl with a peculiarly intense personality, he had already discerned, having danced with her once or twice at other ‘socials’. With her wavy black hair and somewhat crisp features and her slender, almost boyish figure, she was even superficially the greatest possible contrast to May Gerrard, but the contrast increased when one looked into the deep brown eyes, so introspectively thoughtful where May’s had been like gently shallow pools of translucent blue water.
‘And she sure is fond of you,’ Dan remarked, wistfully. Unlike Lew, the Kentuckian, with his mop of curly fair hair, his freckles, and his somewhat hesitant manner — and, of course, the fact that he had not yet been to war and earned himself a medal — was rather inclined to be a male wall flower.
But in his present mood, Lew felt that was not his problem. He was aware of a sudden antagonism against the whole feminine sex, that May should be so determined to bedevil him when he had determined to lay his entire life at her feet, had in fact made such a fool of him, at least as he would appear in Father’s eyes when he had to confess the fact that she had just walked out on him. Because the more he thought
about it, the more he realised that there could be no other explanation for what had happened.
‘Why, Mr McGann,’ Brenda Grant remarked. ‘You are looking out of sorts.’ She was wearing a deep red evening gown, with a good deal of mostly unfilled décolletage. And she was probably the most complete virgin in the United States, he thought savagely, who knew nothing of spending a week in an hotel bedroom with a man not her husband.
But she was a captain’s daughter. He gave her a brief bow. ‘I wish I were at sea, Miss Grant.’
‘All you boys,’ she said. ‘Wanting to rush off and get killed. But you know all about it, I guess, Mr McGann.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know all about it, Miss Grant. Would you care to dance?’
She appeared to hesitate, then gave a little shrug. ‘Why, that might be fun.’
She came into his arms, and he inhaled her perfume as they whirled into the waltz, while her eyes fixed on his with that almost frightening gaze of hers. ‘You’re going to a destroyer,’ she said. ‘USS Carlton.’
He frowned at her. ‘Eh?’
‘Pa told me. Convoy duty.’
‘Oh, great. That’s great.’
She frowned. ‘That’s what you really want to do? Pa says it’s the most tedious job in the world.’
‘Maybe. But I want to sink German submarines more than anything else in the world.’
‘Of course,’ she said, ‘you want to avenge the Lusitania, all on your lonesome.’ He glared at her, wondering if she was putting him on but she continued with no change of expression, ‘But Pa also says the fight against the U-boats is the most important aspect of this war, that once it’s won, Germany will have no hope left. Don’t you agree with that?’
‘I’m sure your pa is right,’ he said. ‘All I want to do is send as many of the bastards to the bottom as possible, if you’ll pardon my French.’
The music had stopped, and they stood against each other. ‘You are so bloodthirsty, Mr McGann. I would’ve thought you’d had enough of that.’
Raging Sea, Searing Sky Page 12