by Herman Wouk
Victor Henry turned his face from the hideous sight to the indigo arch of the sky, where Venus and the brightest stars still burned: Sirius, Capella, Procyon, the old navigation aids. The familiar religious awe came over him, the sense of a Presence above this pitiful little earth. He could almost picture God the Father looking down with sad wonder at this mischief. In a world so rich and lovely, could his children find nothing better to do than to dig iron from the ground and work it into vast grotesque engines for blowing each other up? Yet this madness was the way of the world. He had given all his working years to it. Now he was about to risk his very life at it. Why?
Because the others did it, he thought. Because Abel’s next-door neighbor was Cain. Because with all its rotten spots, the United States of America was not only his homeland but the hope of the world. Because if America’s enemies dug up iron and made deadly engines of it, America had to do the same, and do it better, or die. Maybe the vicious circle would end with this first real world war. Maybe it would end with Christ’s second coming. Maybe it would never end.
But he was living in 1941. Below in the brightening dawn lay his own sunken ship and his own destroyed fleet. The professional sailors and fliers who had done this thing, and done a damned smart job of it, had obeyed orders of politicians working with Hitler. Until the life was beaten out of that monster, the world could not move an inch toward a more sane existence. There was nothing to do now but win the war. So Victor Henry meditated as the Enterprise moved down channel in the sunrise and out to sea under the escort of destroyers and cruisers, taking his firstborn son into battle.
Back at the house, he found Janice all dressed. “Hi. Going somewhere?” he said. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“Oh, it’s Vic’s cough. It hangs on and on. I’m taking him to the clinic down at the base for a checkup. You just missed a call from Captain Larkin.”
“Jocko? This early?”
“Yes. He left a message for you. He said, ‘She’s all yours.’”
Victor Henry dropped in a chair, with a blankly startled look.
“Good news, I hope?” Janice asked. “He said you’d understand.”
“‘She’s all yours’? That’s the whole message?”
“That’s it. He said he wouldn’t be in his office till noon, but he thought you’d want to know right away.”
“I see. Well, it’s pretty fair news. Is the coffee on?”
“Yes. Anna May will make you breakfast.”
“No, no, coffee’s all I want, thanks. Look, Janice, you’ll be passing by Western Union. Can you send Rhoda a cable for me?”
“Sure.”
Victor Henry reached for the memo pad by the telephone, and scrawled: LETTER COMING AM FINE HAVE JUST BEGUN TO FIGHT.
Glancing at the little sheet he handed her, Janice curved her mouth in an indulgent female grin.
“What’s the matter with that?” Pug said.
“How about ‘Love’?”
“By all means. Thanks, Jan. You add that.”
When she left with the baby, he was on the telephone, trying to reach Commander, Cruisers Pacific. He responded to her farewell wave with a bleak preoccupied smile. Janice thought, closing the door on him, that nothing could be more like her austere, remote father-in-law than the little business of the cable. You had to remind this man that he loved his wife.
1964–1971
Also by Herman Wouk
War and Remembrance
“Moving, thrilling fiction…. Wouk is a magnificent storyteller.”
—Boston Globe
“One of the great narratives of our time…. What is so extraordinary about this novel is the sense of authenticity which it conveys whether at the scene of great battles or eavesdropping on the dialogue of historic personages.”
—Christian Science Monitor
“Those who lived through World War II can most fully appreciate the resonances in this uncommonly readable book. But it is clearly meant—and recommended—for those who did not.”
—Time
And the magnificent saga, encompassing two novels, that brings brilliantly to life the epic adventure of Israel’s founding and struggle to survive:
The Hope
“Inspiring and full of excitement…. The Hope seamlessly weaves epic events into everyday life.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“One of our best writers today—a modern Charles Dickens—is Herman Wouk…. The Hope is not only a good read, but it also causes a good think.”
—William Safire, New York Times
The Glory
“A sprawling, action-packed novel…. The Glory is gripping historical fiction. Wouk’s portraits of historical figures are altogether convincing.”
—Philadelphia Inquirer
Available in paperback wherever books are sold
“COMPELLING…. A PANORAMIC, ENGROSSING STORY.”—ATLANTIC MONTHLY
A MANSTERPIECE OF HISTORICAL FICTION—
THE GREAT NOVEL OF AMERICA’S “GREATEST GENERATION”
Herman Wouk’s sweeping epic of World War II, which begins with The Winds of War and continues in War and Remembrance, stands as the crowning achievement of one of America’s most celebrated storytellers. Like no other books about the war, Wouk’s spellbinding narrative captures the tide of global events—and all the drama, romance, heroism, and tragedy of World War II—as it immerses us in the lives of a single American family drawn into the very center of the war’s maelstrom.
“The Winds of War gives more vivid pictures of the principal leaders of the war than military and political history could. Fiction is better that history at showing ‘how it really was’ where matters of human character are concerned.”
—POLITICAL SCIENCE QUARTERLY
“First-rate storytelling.”
—NEW YORK TIMES
“With the whole world as its setting. The Winds of War tells the intimate story of an American family—a Navy family—caught up in the vortex of world conflict…. World history comes to life at a personal, eyewitness level.”
—PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
“Wouk is a matchless storyteller with a gift for characterization, an ear for convincing dialogue, and a masterful grasp of what was at stake in World War II.”
—SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
HERMAN WOUK’s acclaimed novels include the Pulitzer Prize–winning The Caine Mutiny; Marjorie Morningstar; Don’t Stop the Carnival; Youngblood Hawke; The Winds of War; War and Remembrance; Inside, Outside; The Hope; and The Glory.
* The veracity of this statement is questionable.—V.H.