Sea trails and the near disaster had sapped his energy, yet he couldn’t set aside the events of the day and fall asleep. He thought of Beatrice Zane and the last time he had seen her. It was the best of all their evenings. Thoughts of her relieved his tension and he finally slept as Denver sped toward Puget Sound.
In another part of the ship, Darby Cameron, though dog tired, lay awake in the chief petty officers’ quarters. He’d been selected to ride Denver for trials and overheard the captain’s intention to investigate the casualty. Darby felt a terrible fear when the submarine headed for the bottom and now he feared he would pay a price twice more for his maintenance omission, dismissal from Civil Service and the forfeiture of all his benefits accrued for over thirty-two years of working at the shipyard.
Inspecting the fasteners on the eject pump would show they had not been removed recently and reveal he gun-decked the initial inspection report.
He thought, The days ahead are truly gonna be grim ones.
Chapter 2
Captain Eric Danis, Commander of Submarine Squadron Three based at San Diego, sat in a huge chair behind a large mahogany desk at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard Headquarters. His temporary office supplied with expensive furnishings made him uncomfortable, not being accustomed to such plush accommodations.
He bore the title commodore, a verbal courtesy extended to officers who command a squadron of warships, regardless of their actual rank. The COMSUBRON 3 assignment had earned him the nickname Squad Dog, a jumping off spot for promotion to admiral, flag-rank, as it is known in the Navy. His prospects were good at the time of his posting, but two years without selection, a lightning strike in Navy jargon, brought him close to mandatory retirement.
A tall slender man with premature gray hair, he had matching eyes that could bore right through a person, yet also show compassion.
Captain Hal Bostwick sat opposite Commodore Danis. Officers in the rank of commander normally command submarines, but Bostwick had manipulated the system well and gained the higher rank of captain through an early selection process.
Their meeting ran the usual agenda of congenialities incident to departure from a successful overhaul, but now they needed to address the near disaster. Responsibility had to be fixed. Despite the premium for limited space within a submarine, an unwritten rule: There’s room onboard for everything but a mistake. Mistakes and their perpetrators were culled out.
Captain Bostwick’s voice tones and body language signaled a change to a more serious note. “Commodore, I’m afraid Denver must shoulder a good share of responsibility for the casualty,” electing to use the term Denver in lieu of the pronoun I used by commanding officers when blame is a factor. COs are responsible for all that happens aboard their ships whether triumph or failure and the skipper gets both barbs and cheers.
Bostwick continued, “I scheduled the eject pump to be inspected, but our weapons officer failed to ensure this was carried out. Frankly, Lieutenant Maddock is not measuring up. I realize the responsibility is ultimately mine, but this officer fails in setting priorities.”
Commodore Danis expressed concern, “Oh?… I’m surprised to hear that. He’s got a solid reputation in previous assignments. A maverick of sorts, but us old guys need prodding now and then. Keeps us from our favorite ruts.”
Believing he had no ruts, Bostwick pounced on the opening. “A maverick is a wild cow, Commodore, but it is still a cow; and they all end up at McDonald’s. Lieutenant Maddock’s points of view, and believe me, sir, I’ve heard them all, are not suitable alternatives for the proper performance of duty.”
Commodore Danis countered, “I’m told he was instrumental in securing the casualty during trials.”
Bostwick’s frustration rose. “There are slackers on every ship that resort to rationalization for not doing their jobs. Maddock’s alleged rescue of Denver is over embellished by some of these. I personally coerced his performance of what was a simple task. His panic, and delay, turned routine procedure into a near casualty.”
Danis tried to catch Bostwick’s eyes, but they avoided him. The commodore took great pains to be acquainted with each officer in his squadron, therefore, he knew of Bostwick’s ambition and it irritated him, in particular his tendency to seek and establish a rapport with his boss’s boss. Bostwick often implied SUBRON 3 policies thwarted his efforts to comply with SUBPAC directions.
Shifting in his chair, Bostwick looked at Danis and said, “Sir, I’m recommending Maddock for reassignment outside the submarine force. You’ll have the correspondence today.”
Contemplating Bostwick’s words for a moment, Danis stared him down. “I appreciate your position, Captain,” using Bostwick’s rank instead of his first name signaled the commodore’s displeasure, “but I will return any such recommendation disapproved.”
Danis’s statement angered Captain Bostwick, but he maintained his composure and said nothing.
Danis continued, “Hal, I have grave news. You must understand what I’m about to tell you is not be discussed outside this room.”
Bostwick nodded.
“We believe the Soviets are up to something. Since the old guard reemerged and overthrew the Glasnost crowd, there’s been a lot of unrest. Our Intelligence people believe the new Premier needs a major war against NATO to consolidate power. The Soviets won’t like the emergent balance of power if things keep going the way they are.”
Bostwick did not subscribe to this view, but made no move to challenge it. Danis’s pleasure with Denver’s overhaul success would be reported up the line and the ambitious CO had no wish to temper that.
“Pardon my saying so, Commodore, but we’ve been there before, starting with the Cuban missile crisis. Glasnost isn’t dead. Our efforts must center on restoring it. I don’t see a problem. Just like always, they’ll back down.”
“I hope you’re right, Hal, but I think not. We’ve lost contact with all their submarines. It’s like they know how we track them and have flipped off the switch. And we believe they’re more combat ready than we are.”
“May I ask, sir, what this has to do with Maddock?”
“Two things. First, he can’t be replaced in the near term. If I approve your recommendation, that makes him a short timer, bad for both his morale and the crew’s. Second, he’s a good tactician because he didn’t over invest himself with the high-priced tea kettle,” the commodore said, referring to the nuclear reactor. “Mind you, we must know what we’re doing there, but other areas need attention. If this Soviet thing continues, we’ll need all the Brent Maddocks we can get. He’s a rare breed that understands the sole purpose of everything aft of the torpedo room is to get our bullets within attack range.”
Bostwick remained silent, but disagreed. He knew submarine CO’s careers were destroyed on the spot if they ran afoul of reactor problems. All the other sins were forgivable.
“I understand, sir, but I’m firm on this recommendation. As Denver’s CO, I must send this to SUBPAC, hopefully with your concurrence, but with whatever endorsement you choose.”
Danis thought,You brassy son of a bitch. You think I’m a lame duck and can wing anything past me you want. Danis spoke with a soft but firm tone. “Captain Bostwick, the shorter one’s tenure becomes, the less concern for opinions by higher authority. By much reckoning, not least of all yours, my tenure grows short. Let me assure you, my position will stand in this matter. If not reinforced by COMSUBPAC, then by others well positioned to do so. Those I refer to hold my service reputation in high esteem and are long of memory. Do I make myself clear?”