March Anson and Scoot Bailey of the U.S. Navy

by Marshall McClintock

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  UNDER WAY AGAIN

  In San Francisco, Stan and March had two days for a little of thesightseeing they had looked forward to, but they both spent most oftheir time at other tasks. March passed several hours at a telephonestand trying to get through a call home.

  When it finally went through he talked for five minutes with his motherand gave her his San Francisco address. She sounded cheerful and not atall worried, and asked him if he might see Scoot Bailey.

  “Scoot’s address is San Francisco, too,” she said.

  “I know,” March laughed, “and the address of quite a few thousands ofother sailors and soldiers. I think he must have got out of Friscobefore this, unless he was held up here for lack of transportation. Imight as well try to find out, though.”

  “Maybe you’ll see him out where you’re going,” his mother said.

  “I doubt it very much,” March said. “Even though we did have a jokeabout how my submarine would probably have to save him from the Japsout there.”

  When he finished talking to his mother, he decided he might as well tryto find out if Scoot were still in town. He had probably arrived two orthree weeks before. It wasn’t likely that he’d still be around, butsometimes men were held up that long.

  “If Scoot _were_ held up that long,” March said to himself, “he’d bejust about crazy. I think he’d start swimming to get out to his carrieror plane or base or wherever he’ll be.”

  March spent most of the afternoon trying to find out about Scoot. Eachoffice said it didn’t have the information or couldn’t give it to him,until he finally reached the right place and learned that Scoot hadleft San Francisco by plane for his “destination” twelve days before.

  He met Stan for dinner, after which they went to a movie. The Skipperhad given them leave until a few hours before they were due to sail.

  After the movie Stan and March went back to their ship to find that RayCorvin had suddenly been taken sick. Just as they came up, theambulance was taking him away to the Naval Hospital.

  “Burst appendix, I think,” Gray said. “And if that’s it, I don’t knowwhat we’ll do. I’m hoping it’s nothing more than an acute indigestionthat’ll pass in a day or two. But Sallini felt sure it was the appendixand so did the doc that came. That’s why they rushed him right off tothe hospital.”

  “Anything we can do?” March asked.

  “No, just keep your fingers crossed,” Gray said. “Ray’s a mighty goodman to have aboard a submarine.”

  “Why, we couldn’t go without him, could we?” Stan asked.

  “The Navy doesn’t wait around for an officer to get over appendicitis,”Larry said. “We’re scheduled to pull out of here at dawn day aftertomorrow morning, and that’s when we’ll pull out, with or without RayCorvin.”

  “What about his family?” March asked. “Didn’t he say he lived nearhere?”

  “Sure—about fifty miles away,” the Skipper replied. “He had just phonedthem before he got this attack. I had to tell them he couldn’t comedown as he’d planned. I got in touch with the Commandant here and hehas sent a car down there for Ray’s wife and daughter. They’ll see himat the hospital.”

  In the morning they learned that Corvin’s appendix _had_ burst and hehad been operated on. Larry Gray had spent a good part of the night atthe hospital.

  “He’ll pull through all right,” he said wearily. “But it will be weeksbefore he’s up and around. We’re really lucky, I guess, that it didn’thappen when we were at sea. If it had to happen, it couldn’t have timeditself better. In port near a hospital—and not far from Ray’s home. Hecan go there to convalesce.”

  “What about us?” Stan asked. “It’s a shame we can’t have him with us.He’s a swell guy.”

  “And a fine officer,” Gray said. “He ought to have a command of hisown, really. Well, I’m not sure what we’ll do. The Navy can probablyfind us another officer in a hurry if we demand it, though it’s noteasy to find a good sub man just like that who isn’t already occupied.”

  He shook his head as he turned to his quarters. “I’m not sure just whatwe’ll do,” he said, “except that we’ll get under way on schedule.”

  At the door, he stopped. “March, will you and Stan help Mac oversee theloading? I’ve got to have a little rest.”

  There wasn’t much to come aboard. Ammunition and torpedoes were stillintact, so they had to take on only oil and water and food, plus somespecial medical supplies for use in tropical climates. Stan had ordereda few more spare parts for his engines and motors. With his littlerepair shop, he felt able then to take care of almost anything thatmight happen in his department.

  It was late that afternoon that the Skipper called March to hisquarters.

  “Sit down, March,” he said. “I’ve decided what to do about anotherofficer, but I think I ought to talk it over with the rest of you firstto see if you agree.”

  “Whatever you say is all right with the rest of us, Larry,” March said.“You know that.”

  “Perhaps,” Larry replied with a smile. “But this involves a little morework for everybody and I want you all to agree that it’s best. You see,I think we’ve got a good crew here—men and officers alike. We getalong. We know our business. Getting along together is mighty importantin this work, and I don’t know how another officer would fit in even ifwe could get one.”

  “I know,” March agreed. “You can never tell until you’ve lived in eachother’s laps for a while, as we have.”

  “So I want to skip getting—or trying to get—another officer to replaceRay,” the Skipper went on. “Plenty of subs this size have operated withfour officers and so can we. But we’ll have to split up Ray’s work.”

  “Okay with me,” March said at once. “What can I take on?”

  “That’s why I wanted to talk to you alone first,” Gray said. “I want_you_ to take over Ray’s job, really.”

  “You mean as diving officer,” March said, with a thrill.

  “Yes, and as executive officer, too,” Larry said.

  March started to say something, and then he realized exactly what Grayhad said. On his first real patrol, he was asked to serve as second incommand of a new submarine! It was unbelievable!

  “But—Larry,” he said. “Do you think I can handle it?”

  “If _you_ think so,” the Skipper said with a smile, “then I think youcan, too. I think you can handle just about anything on a submarinethat you want to handle.”

  “What about McFee?” March asked. “He’s been out before—been with youbefore. He’s had more experience.”

  “No—not McFee,” Larry said. “Mac’s a wonder at his job, and he couldtake over just about any other submarine job in an emergency. But—well,Mac knows this as well as I do—he’s just not quite enough of anexecutive to handle this. I know that he just wouldn’t want the job. Hedoesn’t like to tell people what to do. He wouldn’t like to be ageneral manager, and that’s what an executive officer is, really.”

  “Well, you know him well,” March said, “but won’t he feel a littlefunny about having a raw recruit, so to speak, put over him?”

  “Not Mac,” Larry answered. “He’s not like that. Anyway, how about it?”

  “Well—I’m mighty pleased that you’ve got enough confidence in me to askme,” March said. “And I surely ought to have as much confidence inmyself as someone else has. Okay, Skipper, you’re on.”

  “Swell, March,” Gray said with a broad smile. “I don’t feel so badabout not having Ray now. We’re going to do a job in _Kamongo_.”

  “I just hope I can navigate and dive and exec,” March said, “all at thesame time.”

  “_I Want You to Take Over Ray’s Job!_”]

  “Well, I never did think a navigating officer had enough to do justnavigating,” Gray said, laughing. “And you’re never busy navigatingwhen you have to dive. As for being an exec, a well-run sub with a goodcrew doesn
’t need much general managing, you’ll find. Anyway, Mac andStan will help you out in that department if you need any help. Anddon’t forget that there is, after all, still a Skipper on the boat whoought to do a little work once in a while.”

  Later, in the wardroom with Stan and Mac, Larry told them all the newsetup, and March was happy to see how obviously pleased with thearrangement McFee and Stan were.

  “I was worried,” McFee said. “I was afraid you’d get another officerand he’d turn out to be a guy who pulled puns or was a bridge fiend orsomething terrible like that. And we wouldn’t have time to find it outbefore we got under way, so we’d have to drown him at sea.”

  “Well, I’d better go report to the Commandant and tell him thearrangement,” Larry said. “The Navy likes to know about these things,even if they do leave most decisions up to a ship’s captain.”

  After Gray left, March stepped into the control room. Scotty rushed upto him and shook his hand vigorously.

  “Congratulations, Lieutenant!” the radioman cried. “Gee, it’s swell!”

  “Thanks, Scotty,” March grinned. “But how on earth did the crew everlearn this so fast?”

  “Didn’t you ever hear that the crew always knows the important thingsbefore the officers on a sub?” Scott said with a laugh.

  “It must be, it must be,” March replied, with a shake of his head.

  When Larry Gray returned from seeing the Commandant, March thought henoticed a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face that he wastrying not to show.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Larry replied, looking a little embarrassed. “I justreported and he said okay. Everything set for dawn?”

  “Everything set,” March replied.

  “Oh, by the way,” Larry said, as if trying to change the subject. “Youmove your stuff into Ray’s quarters. Then you and Stan can both have alittle more room to move around in.”

  “Okay, Skipper,” March answered. “Could we see Ray before we leave?”

  “No, no more visitors,” Larry said. “His family is there, and they letme see him for a minute to say goodbye and good luck from all of us.He’s feeling pretty lousy with drainage tubes in him, and worse thanthat because he can’t go along with us. If they’d let him, he’d try toget up and come along right now. He says he could recuperate faster ina sub, anyway, than on dry land. He highly approved of yourappointment, by the way.”

  It was an hour later that March learned the reason for the Skipper’shidden smile and slightly embarrassed look. Noticing a new large sheetof paper on the bulletin board in the crew’s quarters he paused to lookat it.

  “Scuttlebutt Special!!!!” it read. “The brass hats have seen the lightat last and promoted our Old Man to Lieutenant Commander! It’s abouttime!”

  March walked quickly back to the wardroom where he found Larry Gray andMcFee smoking and talking.

  “Well, I was told that the crew knew everything important before theofficers,” he said. “But why did you want to keep it secret?”

  Larry almost blushed.

  “Oh, so you found out?”

  “It’s on the bulletin board!” March exclaimed.

  “Oh, my golly! These sub crews!” Larry exclaimed. “They can even readyour thoughts!”

  “Say, what’s all this about?” Mac cried. “Let me in on it!”

  “Go read it for yourself,” March said. “The Skipper made me find it outthe hard way.”

  As Mac squeezed out from behind the little table and hurried down thecompanionway, March put out his hand and shook Larry’s.

  “Congratulations, Skipper,” he said.

  “Thanks, March,” Gray said. “Some of the crew on shore liberty must’verun into it up at headquarters somehow. They don’t miss a thing.”

  They not only missed nothing, but they did not miss a chance to dosomething about it. After mess a delegation from the crew appeared andasked for an audience with the Skipper. He sensed what was coming andmet them in the control room.

  Pete Kalinsky, Chief Petty Officer in the torpedo room, was thespokesman.

  “Lieutenant Commander Gray, sir,” he said. “Your crew is very happy tosee you gettin’ up where you belong, though they’ve got to come througha few more times before it’s okay with us. We knew you wouldn’t botherabout such things, but the _Kamongo’s_ captain ought to do himselfproud, so on behalf of the crew I give you these.”

  He coughed, acted as if he were about to add something else, then said“Sir,” lamely, and backed up.

  Larry took the small packages Pete had handed him and undid them withfingers that shook slightly. First came a set of three gold stripes,two wide and one narrow, for his blue uniform. Then the same in blackfor his work uniform. Then shoulder insignia and finally two goldoak-leaves for pinning on his shirt collars.

  March, who stood behind Larry, felt a lump in his throat. He knew howLarry must be feeling and wondered how he could keep the tears out ofhis eyes. There was a long silence, and March knew that Larry waswaiting for his voice to get under control before he spoke. Everyonewas looking at him as he fingered the marks of his new rank which hadbeen presented to him by his crew. Not only had they got the newsalmost as soon as it had happened, but somebody had taken up acollection and rushed downtown, during his last hours of shore leave,to buy these things for him.

  “You know, men,” Larry spoke quietly, “it’s naturally very pleasant toget a promotion. But when you’re about to set out in a pigboat to sinkas many Jap ships as possible, it doesn’t seem very important. Andcertainly gold braid and pretty gold leaves aren’t important at all.But I’ll tell you what really _is_ important, what really _does_ countfor a lot when you’re about to get under way for enemy waters. That isthe knowledge that I have a crew like mine! I’ve got a crew that isproud of its boat, proud of its Skipper, proud of itself. A crewthat’ll do something—like this—like what you’ve just done—well, it justcan’t be licked, that’s all.”

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