1942

Now he shook his head in frustration. “I didn’t have the answers they wanted. They couldn’t get it through their heads that I was just a lonely and lowly officer who wasn’t assigned to anything in particular, who didn’t know squat about the battle, and who spent the entire time scared to death. They wanted to know what was happening on the bridge and got angry when I told them I never got on the bridge. I thought one of them would have a fit when I said I wasn’t certain where the bridge was. They didn’t even care how those guys died in the water, although I got the hint they thought I could have done something better to save them. The bastards.”

He finished his beer and took another one from Sue, who let him know she liked being called Suzy by her friends and he now qualified. “I guess they felt they wasted a trip, and they’re right. I don’t know what they wanted, but they should have known they wouldn’t get it from me. They’ll just have to wait until the war’s over and they talk to the other survivors.”

If there are any, Suzy thought. She’d caught snatches of conversation between senior officers that told her otherwise.

She decided to redirect his thoughts and pointed out the glories of the sun reflecting off the waves. It didn’t work.

“Japan’s out there,” Jamie said.

“So’s Hawaii,” she answered softly.

Jamie bit his lip. “God, I’m sorry. I haven’t given a thought about you losing your father. I must sound like a spoiled child.”

“Just a little,” she teased. She was gratified that he did seem genuinely contrite. A lot of guys wouldn’t have cared.

“Tell me about your dad,” Jamie said.

She leaned back on her elbows and drank in the sun. She took off her glasses, and the world beyond a dozen feet away became a pleasant blur. She wished she was naked and could let the sun play over her entire body as she liked to do on some of the more private beaches in the area. She wondered what Jamie’s reaction would be. Shock? Dismay? Delight? Maybe someday she’d find out.

“Not much to say. He was a good man, a good father, and a good sailor, and I loved him very much. He encouraged me to get an education, which I did. He served with Spruance, which is how I got this job as his clerk at the tender age of twenty-four. Being a sailor, Dad was gone for long stretches of time, so I got used to him not being there. My mother lives in Oakland. They got divorced a few years ago, and she remarried some guy who works in a factory. The guy’s a jerk, and I’m really disappointed in Mom, but I guess she needed the security.”

Suzy took another beer for herself and snapped off the top with more force than was necessary. She’s hiding her anger too, Jamie thought, but not very well.

“Dad died on his battleship,” she went on. “Now they’re saying the Arizona will be a permanent tomb or memorial when we retake Hawaii. I’d like that, and I know he’d like that. I could visit there and know where he is and that he’s finally safe.”

“In the meantime, we do what we can,” Jamie said.

He was proud of his work. Already a partial solution had been found for the problem of the torpedoes running deeper than set. The weight difference between the test warheads and a real warhead was significant enough to cause a torpedo to run ten feet deeper than expected. Adjusting the settings was all that was needed, although there was concern that the earth’s magnetic field was producing variances that also affected the settings.

The situation with the impact detonators was still not totally resolved. It was now a given that they were too sensitive, and there was talk of copying a more reliable British design. In the meantime, mechanics onboard submarines tinkered with each torpedo to make them all more effective.

“When you write your book, put me in it,” Suzy said with a grin.

“My what?”

“You heard me. After the war, you will write a book about your experiences, and I want to be in it. As the heroine, of course.”

Write a book? Funny, but the thought intrigued him. “Okay, I’ll write a book. And I’ll put those four admirals in it in all their glory.”

Perhaps a book would be a way of telling the world about the quiet courage of people like Seaman Fiorini, and about his photos, which might have influenced the course of the war.

They finished their beers, and Suzy broke out sandwiches. As they ate, she couldn’t help but think that her father would have liked Lieutenant Jamie Priest.

Charley Finch had never intended to be a traitor. All he ever wanted was a little peace and comfort for himself and a way out of the prison camp. If it meant ratting on a couple of his buddies, well, so what? He’d done it before, and he’d do it again if the situation was right.