“They heard him screaming!” Paul said.
“You are the worst bastard I ever saw to tell anyone anything!” Ginty said. “Will you the fuck get it out?”
“The below-decks watch in the relief crew on the Mako heard Spook screaming!” Paul looked around the dining room and then he bent over the table and dropped his voice to just above a whisper.
“Guy I know came out here to tell me. Spook and Barney Saunders, the quartermaster, went aboard the ship yesterday afternoon, late. The below-decks watch said they went up in the Conning Tower and closed the hatch to the Control Room. He said they had a bottle looked like it was gin with them.
“After a while the below-decks watch heard a funny noise in the Conning Tower and then he heard someone screaming and he opened the hatch and went up. Spook was on his hands and knees by the helm pukin’ and screamin’ and in between pukin’ and screamin’ he was yellin’ that he was blind. And that ain’t the worst part!”
“What’s worse?” Hendershot said quietly.
“Barney Saunders is over the other end of the Conning Tower, aft by the periscopes, and he’s sittin’ on deck and he’d put the muzzle of a forty-five in his mouth and blowed his brains all over the overhead!”
Ginty reached out a huge hand and clamped it around Johnny Paul’s arm. “Don’t you spread this scuttlebutt around, sailor! You do and I’ll personally break all your arms and legs! The shit that you people talk about! Worse than a bunch of fucking old women!”
“This ain’t scuttlebutt, Ginch!” Paul began to massage his arm where Ginty’s hand had grabbed him. The guy who came here to tell me is my cousin, he’s a Pharmacist’s Mate at the hospital at Aiea. That’s where they took Barney and Spook, to Aiea. My cousin said Barney is awful dead and Spook is blind from drinkin’ wood alcohol!”
“Shit!” Ginty said as he got to his feet. “Hindu, see you can get hold of Dusty. His old lady’s phone number ought to be in the book. I’ll try to raise Grilley, he’s a good head and we ain’t got Mike Brannon now. He’d sure as hell know what to do.”
Hendershot fell into step beside Ginty as the big man’s legs ate up the distance across the hotel lobby.
“Where the hell did they get the wood alcohol?”
“Who the fuck knows?” Ginty growled. “Hernandez wanted me to give him the key to the alky locker in my Room. Anybody but a Spic I mighta said okay, that torpedo alky is a hundred and eighty proof, good stuff for drinkin’. I told him to suck ass, he wasn’t gettin’ no key to no alky locker from me. He went off with a sour puss. Bastard musta got Saunders and gone back to the Base and found some wood alky somewheres and didn’t test it. Fuckin’ wood alky will turn you crazy! What a mess this is going to be with the new Old Man coming aboard this afternoon!”
“You know Captain Mealey?” Hendershot said as he opened a telephone book.
“No,” Ginty grunted.
“You’ll know him this afternoon,” Hendershot said as he ran his finger down the line of R listings in the telephone book. “I had him on an R-boat in Panama. Captain Mealey doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t swear and he don’t like sailors that do any of those things!”
Chapter 11
The buses rolled to a stop at the land end of the pier where Mako was docked. The crew got out, sullen and silent. They were prepared to dislike their new Commanding Officer; to be taken away from the hotel, even for an hour or two, was an insult. Captain Severn’s Chief Yeoman found Dusty Rhodes and asked him to line up the crew. Rhodes formed the grumbling sailors into two ranks and took his position at the right hand end of the first rank, two paces apart from Chief Barber. Lieutenant Grilley walked over from the small group of Mako’s officers.
“I suggested to Commander Rudd that it might be better to hold this here, as far away from Mako as we could get and yet within sight of her,” he said quietly. “Naval Intelligence has the ship sealed off while they investigate. Probably won’t be over until sometime tomorrow.” Rhodes nodded.
The crew stood quietly at ease in ranks. Occasionally there would be a subdued ripple of whispers as an officer hurried aboard Mako or left the ship. Word of what had happened in Mako’s Conning Tower had flashed all over the hotel that morning and Johnny Paul, mindful of Ginty’s murderous rages and his awesome strength, had hurried to Ginty’s room to tell him that everyone was talking about the tragedy and that he wasn’t the source. Ginty was shaving and as he rinsed his face he stared at Paul. The younger man backed away.
“I know the word’s gettin’ around,” Ginty said through a towel he was using to dry his face. “Fucking yeoman on the Base is spreadin’ the word. Just keep your own nose clean.”
Captain Severn’s Chief Yeoman coughed discreetly and nodded his head at Dusty Rhodes as two staff cars pulled up. Rhodes stepped out a pace and faced left.
“Dress right!” he rasped. He waited a moment as the two ranks shuffled into a straight line.
“Front!” He watched carefully and as he saw four gold stripes on the shoulder boards of Captain Severn come into view he drew a deep breath.
“Tennn-Shunn!” He turned and stepped back into line.
Captain Severn walked over and stood in front of Mako’s small group of officers, drawn up rigidly in a line. Two other officers, one a three-stripe Commander, the other a two-and-a-half-stripe Lieutenant Commander, got out of the cars and walked over. The Lieutenant Commander took up a position to one side. The Commander walked up to Captain Severn and saluted smartly. Captain Severn returned the salute and motioned the Commander to stand to one side. He pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve and coughed and hawked into the white cloth, looked at it and returned the handkerchief to his sleeve.
“I have a few words to say,” he began in a nasal drone.
“We are here to observe a tradition that is as old as our Navy. All of our ship captains have gone through this ceremony we participate in today — the change of command of a warship of the United States Navy, the designation of a Captain to command a warship.
“Command is a very heavy responsibility in time of peace,” he went on, his cold eyes sweeping over Mako’s officers and men. “In time of war it is a crushing responsibility!
“We who serve in submarines know we are the nation’s only effective weapon at this time. Until the Navy is able to regroup it is the submarines which must defend our nation.
“It is the submarines which must show the enemy what it means to stage a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor!” His voice rose.
“The submarine force is showing the enemy its teeth! It will do that with even greater force and resolution in the months to come. We are going to make the Jap wish he had never heard of Pearl Harbor!” His voice was shaking now.
“By the Grace of our Christian God Almighty in Heaven we shall win this war in His name!” He turned toward his yeoman to take the envelope the yeoman was holding and Rhodes caught a glimpse of Nate Cohen’s lean profile. Cohen had a slight smile on his face. Captain Severn held out the envelope to the Commander who had been standing back of him during his talk.
“These are your orders, sir. Please read them aloud to your command.”
The Commander, a tall, slim man with a thick, sun-bleached white mustache, saluted and walked over and stood in front of Mako’s officers. He ran a thumb under the flap of the envelope and the heavy red wax seal made a dry cracking sound as it broke. He took out a sheet of paper and began to read, the traditional recitation of the orders assigning an officer to command of a warship. When he had finished he faced Captain Severn and in a loud, clear voice said:
“Sir, I, Arvin R. Mealey, Commander, United States Navy, do hereby acknowledge receipt of orders to take command of U.S.S. Mako and to discharge my duties as that ship’s Commanding Officer to the best of my ability, so help me God.”
He snapped off a smart salute that was returned by Captain Severn, who stepped forward, his hand outstretched.
“Congratulations, Captain! Strike the enemy hard
and often! My yeoman will be in touch with you later, I want to have you and your lady to dinner with me at my quarters this evening.” He turned and walked rapidly toward his car. Captain Mealey turned to face his crew. He eyed them for a long moment, his face set and stern.
“At ease,” he said. “I have very little to say to you. I do not make speeches. I will tell you this.
“This is not my first command. I know what I want done on a ship I command. I know how to get it done.
“There is a body of rules of conduct called Navy Regulations. You may call it by another name, the Book. I live by it. You will live by it. If you do, we will get along fine. If you do not, you will be in trouble. I have no time, no desire, to play nursemaid to sailors who cannot or will not obey orders. I will see all the officers aboard Mako tomorrow morning at zero nine hundred. I will see all the Chief Petty Officers at ten hundred hours. Dismiss!” He turned and walked away, toward the other staff car.
The Lieutenant Commander who had arrived with Captain Mealey and Captain Severn was still standing where he had first positioned himself, at one side. He walked toward Mako’s officers and Don Grilley stepped out to meet him.
“Sir?” Grilley said.
“I’m Joe Sirocco,” the Lieutenant Commander said. “I’ve been ordered aboard Mako as the Executive Officer.”
There was a dead silence in the small group of Mako’s officers. Back of the officers those crew members who had not begun to walk toward the buses turned and stood quietly, listening. Lieut. Peter Simms spoke, his voice harsh.
“Did you say you were the new Executive Officer? By whose orders, sir, and when did you get your orders?” Simms’ eyes were hot, studying the other man’s face. Sirocco met his angry stare with a slow smile.
“Why, by order of Captain Severn, the Chief of Staff, sir. I received the orders from Commander Rudd, yesterday.”
“What class are you?” Simms demanded.
“I don’t follow you, Mister,” Sirocco said.
“What year did you graduate from the Academy, damn it! Do you follow that, Mister?”
“Oh,” Sirocco said, “the Academy. I didn’t graduate from the Academy. I graduated from M.I.T. I’m a Reserve officer.”
“A Reserve!” Simms’ voice was strangled. “I’m going to find out about this!” He wheeled and walked away, his back stiff, heading for the Staff Headquarters building.
“Mr. Simms is a little upset, sir,” Don Grilley said in a low voice to Sirocco. “I apologize for him. I think he had expected to be assigned as the Executive Officer.”
“So I was told yesterday,” Sirocco said.
“Oh? By whom, if I may ask, sir.”
“You may,” Sirocco said with a grin. “The Chief of Staff made a point of saying that Mr. Simms had his sights set on the job.”
“I’m forgetting my manners,” Grilley said. “I’m Don Grilley, I take care of Torpedo and Gunnery stuff. I’m a Reserve. Pete Simms is the Engineering Officer and Bob Edge, here, is his assistant. This is Nate Cohen, the best damned Sonar Officer in the whole fleet and a joy to talk with off-watch, and this is Paul Botts, our old man in the Wardroom, Paul’s a mustang.” Grilley looked around and beckoned to Dusty Rhodes.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Sirocco, Chief. Mr. Sirocco, Chief Torpedoman Rhodes, called Dusty by his friends, the Chief of the Boat.”
The two men eyed each other. Sirocco had perhaps an inch on Rhodes’ own six feet one and weighed a good twenty pounds more than Rhodes. Sirocco put out his hand and Rhodes took it.
“I’ve heard good things about you, Chief,” Sirocco said. “I asked Commander Rudd about the Chief of the Boat yesterday and he talked for twenty minutes about you. I hope you’ll give me the benefit of your knowledge and experience when I draw up the Watch Quarter and Station Bills and in all other matters?”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Rhodes said. “Welcome aboard.”
“One other thing,” Sirocco said. “I’d like to come out to the hotel and meet the other Chiefs and the leading petty officers. At your convenience, of course. If you would do so, please get in touch with me through Commander Rudd’s office.”
“I will do that, sir,” Rhodes said. Grilley turned to Joe Sirocco.
“We were all going out to my house for coffee and doughnuts, sir. My wife makes the best doughnuts you ever broke a molar on. I’d be honored if you’d join us?”
“I’d like that,” Sirocco said.
“It’s a shame we can’t go aboard Mako,” Bob Edge said. “She’s a great ship! But the word is that we can’t go aboard until sometime tomorrow.”
“I was aboard last night,” Sirocco said slowly. “With Captain Mealey and the Chief of Staff.” Mako’s officers bunched around Sirocco, their eyes questioning.
“Was it messy?” Edge asked.
“Very,” Sirocco said. “Inside the Conning Tower and later, in Captain Severn’s office.”
Rhodes caught up with Barber and Hendershot as they were getting into Barber’s car.
“Can you give me a lift home, John?” Rhodes said. “June drove me here but she had to get back to the house right away.”
“You hear how Simms spit out that word ‘Reserve’ when the new Exec said he was a feather merchant?” Barber said as he started his car. “That man Simms is about to pop his relief valves! He could be a problem for me, for you, for the new Exec and the Captain this next patrol.”
“He’s already a problem,” Rhodes said. “What I’m going to tell you goes no farther than you two. Reason June had to go home is that Mary Simms called her last night from a drug store and June drove over and got her. She was crying when June got her to our house. Simms slapped her around pretty hard, I guess. June was up all night.”
“He break anything on her?” Barber said. “Mark her up any?”
“Not where any can see it,” Rhodes answered. “June said both her breasts are bruised and she’s got some black and blue marks on her stomach and ribs.”
“He must of found out she was puttin’ out to that civilian,” Barber grunted. He slowed for a sailor weaving down the street.
“I don’t know,” Rhodes said. “June told me she asked her that pointblank and Mary Simms said that all he, all Simms said when he was slapping her around was that she was a lousy housekeeper. I don’t know if he knows about the civilian or not. I don’t think so.”
“He knows,” Hendershot growled. “He’s gotta know. He’s done the same thing too many times himself when he was single and after he got married. He’s a tom cat, always been.
“He even tried to make the radioman’s wife, what’s her name? Yeah. Samantha. Samantha Aaron. Hell of a pretty girl. He tried it when we were on the East Coast; it was just before we went to sea.”
“Why didn’t you tell me if you knew that?” Rhodes asked.
“No need to, Dusty. You had a lot on your mind then and old Aaron handled it real good. He didn’t need any help. One of my electricians was down in the engine room flats checking out the light circuits and he heard Aaron take on Simms right above him, in the Engine Room.
“My guy said Aaron was very polite. Said he figured that Mr. Simms had mistaken his wife for one of the town girls. Said he could forgive that kind of mistake and the language Simms had used because his religion taught him to forgive honest mistakes. Simms tried to bluster it out but my guy said Aaron cut him off short and said he was glad it was a mistake because if his wife had been dishonored he would have had to kill the man who dishonored her! From what my guy said Simms was doing a shuffle on those deck plates, almost shitting in his pants!
“That Aaron could do what he said, too. He’s big enough to pull a gang plow through a rocky field. I don’t like being around those religious types when they get their dander up! I want to be on the other side of a thick brick wall and when they bust through the wall I want to have a machine gun handy!
“No, I’d say that Simms knows that someone else been plowin’ in his field. He knows the routi
ne. You said he didn’t hit her where it would show? That sort of proves it. That man’s got a mean streak in him a yard wide.”
Rhodes was whistling a tuneless tune. He stopped and took a deep breath.
“If he’s got that eating at him and if he’s eating his guts out over not being the new Exec it could mean a lot of trouble this patrol. And if the Chief of Staff made the assignment of this dude Sirocco then it means that the Chief of Staff was taking a dig at Simms. He ain’t going to be easy to live with.” He paused, “Either of you people know anything about this Sirocco?”
“When I heard he was the new Number Two I called a Chief I know was on the Gudgeon first two war patrols,” Barber said. “This Sirocco was sent to Gudgeon before the war as a sort of Reserve super-cargo. He made two runs on Gudgeon, good runs, too.
“This Chief, Masters is his name, I had him when he was a first class, good dude; he said that Sirocco is one helluva smart dude. Very easygoing until you fuck up and then it’s Katy-bar-the-door! Sirocco’s a big old boy, isn’t he? Bigger’n you are, Dusty. Got a face looks like it came through a cement mixer!”
“You people want to have coffee at my place?” Rhodes asked.
“Not if Mary Simms is there,” Barber said. “I’ll drive Hindu out to the hotel and then I’m goin’ home. What the hell you gonna do with Mary Simms, Dusty?”
“Me? Nothing. That’s June’s department. She’s got her own ways. She sat down last night in the room where she put Mary to sleep, she fed her some warm milk with something in it to make her go to sleep. She sat down on the floor and began to meditate. She says she talks to the old gods of her fathers. I woke up about four and got up and looked for her and she was still sitting there on the floor in the room. Her lips were moving but I couldn’t hear what she was saying so I got the hell out and went back to bed. She’ll handle the thing her own way.”
“Sounds spooky,” Hendershot said.
Final Harbor (The Silent War Book 1) Page 11