I said, “Truthfully, two months, Admiral.”
He looked at me, as if to study my face, before saying, “I’ll give you one month to get them ready. You’ll have full authority to move personnel around as you see fit. No questions asked by Headquarters and no one here will end-run you. Have you made any progress with Captain Bleyer?”
I answered, “Not enough. He’s still the weak link. His ship was the last to respond to the attack. They didn’t even get close enough to use their Mark IV quads before the enemy was destroyed.”
“I see. Are you considering taking disciplinary action then?” he asked.
I replied, “No sir. He hasn’t done enough in my book to warrant disciplinary action of that severity. The only thing I afraid of is that he’ll get his crew killed before he actually does.”
He said calmly, “Then you should consider replacing him.”
I said, “I am. Right now isn’t the time to do that. What I’m thinking of doing is transferring him to my ship and putting my ship’s captain in charge of his ship.”
“Do you think you can trust him with your ship?” he asked.
I answered truthfully, “No, but at least I won’t feel guilty about not doing something for the men and women aboard his current ship. If he still manages to screw up, at least I’ll know about it immediately and can take some action.”
“Fine. Do what you think best and good luck. Will you join me in a celebration drink?” he asked.
“Yes sir. I’m honored,” I said as I went ahead and lit up a cigarette before accepting a drink from the admiral.
My squadron adopted the name of the Mad Dogs Squadron. It was more inspiring than being called the 21st Squadron. I continued to drill them with scrambles into space and battle stations and charges in space. We practiced our formations until we could move quickly as a formation. Then I gave them scenarios where they were slowly forced to think about how to recognize an opportunity and take the initiative for the good of the squadron. I wasn’t fooling myself that they would all be successful when they tried it for real. I could only hope that we would become so fearful to the enemy that he would be the one making mistakes that would make it easier for my squadron to capitalize on, whether we were acting together or on individual initiative.
Four days after my meeting with the Fleet Admiral, I made the switch in ship captains and put Captain Bleyer on the Thurman. Then I had him where I could keep an eye on him and not have to worry about him losing a ship with all its personnel. He wasn’t pleased with the transfer, but my own ship’s captain who went over to the other ship was pleased to learn that I had that much confidence in her. Before the transfer took place, I spoke with my new First Officer, Lieutenant Millie Ostengard.
I said, “Millie, I’m switching my ship’s captain with Captain Bleyer. He’s not shaping up over there. I’m not going to live with a guilty conscience for failing to give the men and women of that ship an even chance of survival in the next battle. Keep an eye on Captain Bleyer. If he tries to do anything behind my back, relieve him at once. If necessary, have him sedated and locked up.”
“Yes sir. Anything else?” she asked.
I answered, “Yes. If he has to be taken off the bridge, you’re to assume the captain’s position immediately until the crisis is over. Somehow, we’ll muddle through this and keep everyone in one piece. We’re going back on patrol in a few days. Be prepared. That’s when it’s likely to hit the fan.”
“I will. Is this because you don’t trust him or because you trust me?” she asked.
I answered her truthfully, “It’s because you’re a better officer. If he doesn’t shape up, I want a better officer behind me. So, yes, I do trust you more. I know that you won’t let me down. Keep this to yourself. I don’t want this going out among the squadron. Those men and women need all the confidence we can give them. We’re almost at the point where we’ll be able to go out as a squadron and attack the Ape-oids’ home planet again, this time to hurt them badly. By that, I mean even worse than this ship did before by itself. This, too, you’re to keep to yourself.”
We went out on patrol again three days later. We faced a lone scout. I gave the order to charge. Captain Bleyer didn’t repeat my command to my ship, although we still charged since the pilot acted on my instructions anyway. While the scout was being blasted apart, I turned around and looked at Captain Bleyer.
“Why didn’t you order the charge?” I asked.
He replied, “You already said it and the pilot was already acting on it.”
“I don’t care. Are you the ship’s captain or not?” I asked.
He yelled, “Apparently, I’m not, you raving lunatic! Why bother asking me? You’ve already taken my command away from me! I’m just extra baggage on board this ship! Run the ship yourself! You and this damn rust bucket deserve each other!”
With that he left the bridge in a huff. I called for the First Officer to take charge.
When we got back to port, I pulled the bridge video tapes of the incident and consulted with the Fleet Admiral.
He said, “Well, boy. Technically, you’ve got him for dereliction of duty. He didn’t turn over the bridge to anyone else. He did it during a battle which makes it even worse. You going to prefer charges?”
I replied, “I’d rather see him resign instead of in jail. I’d like you to apply pressure on him to do just that. Otherwise, I’ll press charges.”
“Why don’t you want him to face charges?” he asked.
I said, “Because if he should get off too lightly and be reassigned, he’ll get good men and women killed. Getting him out of the service is the best thing that can happen. His reputation will be unsullied and people will still be alive. That’s the best I can do for him under the circumstances.”
The Admiral said, “All right. I’ll call him to my office and apply pressure. I’ll let you know if you have to follow up with charges.”
I replied, “Thank you, sir.”
Hours later, Captain Bleyer came up to me, furious about the fact that he had been threatened with being charged with dereliction of duty. Instantly, I sized him up for the type of action he was prepared to do. I figured that he would probably get himself worked up enough to take a swing at me. I was right.
I explained to him, “Captain Bleyer, you failed as ship’s captain to perform your duties. Then you absented yourself from the bridge without putting a replacement on the bridge. That’s dereliction of duty, no matter how you look at it. I don’t want to see you court-martialed, if only to save you the embarrassment. I know you’re rich enough that it won’t affect you on the outside since you don’t have to go looking for a job. However, I figured that your country club friends might like you a little better if your service career was unblemished. I suggest that you take the opportunity to resign and not disgrace yourself further.”
He yelled, “You lying son-of-a-bitch! What proof do you have of what you said I did? I can get every officer on that bridge to swear that I did no such thing!”
I replied, “You’re wrong. The Thurman is a civilian gunship on loan to the Navy. As such, she has a few features not present on Navy ships, such as a bridge video recorder. Your entire display of behavior is on Tamp-a-pruf video tape. It doesn’t matter how many officers you convince to perjure themselves, you won’t win. You’ll be disgraced and thrown out of the military. You could even possibly be given some jail time.”
He swung his fist then. I was ready to duck. Then I backed off and looked at him for a moment to see if he was going to try to follow up. When he did, I struck back. He hit the ground and smiled back at me.