Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (classic book list .txt) 📗

bridge railing. “I just think telling Rear Admiral Graham we could head back out without a refit wasn’t a good idea.”

Nick took a deep breath and watched a gooney bird come in for an awkward landing. The sea fowl made one of the ass over tea kettle touchdowns it was known for, then quickly got back to its feet like nothing had happened.

“Out with it, XO,” Commander Emerson said.

“Sir, I’m in agreement with Chief,” Nick said simply. He gestured towards the Plunger’s stern. “Our hull may not technically be holed back there, but the divers mentioned we’ve clearly got some buckles and spots where she’s going to start leaking soon–”

“That’s old age,” Emerson snapped.

“Sir, that’s getting the shit depth charged out of us at least three times since the war began,” Chief replied, his tone rising. “Yes, she’s an older boat, but it’s hardly like this is a Sugar boat or the damn Nautilus.”

He looked sheepishly over at Nick.

“Sorry sir,” he said.

“No problem, Chief,” Nick replied. “The old lady gave us good service.”

Commander Emerson fumed while Chief McLaughlin and Nick finished their exchange. More worrisome, the Plunger’s commander seemed to be considering his next words carefully. For such an outspoken man, that meant what was coming next was probably going to be a doozy.

“Lieutenant Cobb, has it occurred to you that a long time in the yard may lead to your reassignment to Stateside construction?” Emerson asked.

That wasn’t what I expected him to say.

“Given your past achievements, it may even lead to you being assigned to a War Bond tour.”

Nick could almost feel Chief McLaughlin’s eyes upon him. Both the Chief and Commander Emerson were well aware that Nick had just barely managed to get out of Pearl in front of reassignment orders straight from the Navy Department. Given the Navy’s string of losses in both the Atlantic and Pacific, the service’s image was taking quite a beating. It was apparent that some individuals wanted a feel good story to sell to the nation. Whereas the Nautilus’s former CO, Commander Jason Freeman, had been reassigned as U.S.S. Herring’s master and was thus unavailable, there were plenty of lieutenants available for reassignment to Plunger.

That confirms part of the reason we rushed out of Pearl last time was to keep me out ahead of the public relations posse. Which is kind of a shitty thing to do to the crew at large, but there it is.

“Sir, while the thought of getting stuck at Mare Island exhorting a bunch of construction workers to do their utmost does strike me as a fate worse than death,” Nick said drily, “I’d rather do that than actually kill the crew.”

Commander Emerson’s face colored.

Might have pressed a little too hard on that one, Nick realized. But it needed to be said.

“Sir, if the Fulton could fix us, I’d be all for it,” Chief McLaughlin said, gesturing to where the submarine tender lay anchored. There were already four submarines tied up alongside the large vessel, with two of the pigboats taking on torpedoes as the Plunger’s command team had their huddle.

Emerson’s lips pursed until they were almost white, and a vein throbbed in his neck.

To be honest, maybe it’s time you took a rest also.

“I will inform Captain Davis that, in the opinion of my XO and Chief of the Boat, the Plunger is materially defective,” Commander Emerson bit out. “I am sure we will receive subsequent orders to return to Pearl Harbor for repairs.”

“Sir, I–” Nick began.

“Both of you are dismissed,” Emerson cut him off. “Please allow me time to receive our follow on orders before informing any members of the crew or the wardroom.”

Both Nick and Chief McClaughlin came to attention and saluted. Commander Emerson returned the salute crisply, at which point Nick and Chief McLaughlin both made their way down to the Plunger’s deck, then off the boat.

It was a tense ten minutes as they walked, Nick returning the salutes of other submarine crewmen and passing Marines. Even though scuttlebutt had it that the Japanese Fleet was away in the Indian Ocean, the reinforced USMC battalion that garrisoned Midway seemed to be in a state of constant preparation and anticipation. The roar of a flight of Wildcats passing overhead at medium altitude caused Nick to spare a thought to Sam and David.

Looks like I might be joining those idiots in Seattle soon.

“Sir, permission to speak in confidence,” Chief McLaughlin nearly hissed.

“Yes, I think he’s dangerously close to a crack up also,” Nick said without preamble.

Chief McLaughlin nodded, exhaling heavily in relief.

“Thank you, sir, for backing me up. I understand how much you do not want to be trapped back on the mainland.”

“I want to be lying on the bottom of the ocean even less,” Nick stated. “Despite the protestations I occasionally may make.”

“Do you think that they’ll actually send you back now?” Chief McLaughlin asked.

“If Rear Admiral Graham has his way? No. Commanding officers can claim needs of the service to a point, and I think Vice Admiral Halsey will back him up.”

Chief McLaughlin nodded at that statement as the men reached the water’s edge.

“How soon do you think it will be until Vice Admiral Halsey’s replacement arrives?”

“To be frank, Chief, I thought his replacement would already be at Pearl,” Nick stated. “Vice Admiral Halsey doesn’t strike me as the type of man who needs to be manning a desk. While he’s not Commander Emerson aggressive, Vice Admiral Halsey’s an attacker.”

“Interesting that we haven’t been attacking, then,” Chief McLaughlin said.

Nick shrugged.

“We started to attack and the Japanese sent the California and those two escort carriers to the bottom,” Nick observed. “There’s also that rumor that something big is about to happen in the Indian Ocean, plus the damn German submarines continue to cause all sorts of problems off the East Coast and near the Canal Zone.”

Nick looked out over the Pacific and took a deep breath.

“For all we know, someone is attacking,” he stated. “Just not us at the moment.”

U.S.S. Houston

0545 Local