Voyage of the Devilfish

Whenever the Devilfish got under way or returned from a mission, another Jolly Roger flapped in the breeze next to the American flag. The crew enjoyed the flagrant violation of U.S. Navy Regs. Every month Pacino received a memo from Squadron Seven staff not to fly the flag, and he always posted it on the bulletin board outside the crew’s mess. He suspected the Squadron Seven Commodore knew it had more than a passing significance for Pacino and let him get away with it. At fifteen, Pacino had enjoyed a week of fishing at a hideout cabin in Wyoming with his father and then Commander Richard Donchez. Once, while trading sea stories with Donchez over a fire, Pacino senior had commented wistfully about what a kick it would be to sail into Norfolk after a big mission with a Jolly Roger flying from the sail. Years later, on a rare day of liberty for plebe midshipmen, Pacino had found the flag in a dusty antique store and bought it to give to his father as a Christmas present when he returned from the deployment of 1973. For years after the sinking, Pacino had not been able to bring himself to remove the flag from its gift-wrapped package. Once he finally did, seeing the old skull and crossbones seemed to fill just a little of the void his father’s watery death had left inside him. The flag seemed to capture the spirit of what his father had been — a courageous submarine officer, a seafarer, a leader, a warrior. Sometimes Pacino found it draining to stare at it for too long. Usually, it was his source of strength. He still hoped one day to do something to make up for what had happened to his father… A knock sounded at the door. Pacino opened it and the Radioman of the Watch handed him a metal clipboard with a radio message printout.

132045ZDEC

IMMEDIATE IMMEDIATE IMMEDIATE

FM COMSUBLANT NORFOLK VA

TO USS DEVILFISH SSN-666

SUBJ SMALL BOAT TRANSFER COPY CONSUBRON 7 NORFOLK VA REF (A) COMSUBLANT SUBEX 13DEC

CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL PERSONAL FOR C.O.//PERSONAL FOR C.O.//PERSONAL FOR C.O.

BT//

1. SMALL BOAT TRANSFER WITH USS DEVILFISH WILL BE EXECUTED AT MOUTH OF THIMBLE SHOALS CHANNEL AT COORDINATE 12 OF REF (A) AT 1630 EST.

2. TRANSFER SHALL REMOVE COMMANDING OFFICER CDR. M. PACINO FOR TRANSPORT TO COMSUBLANT HEADQUARTERS FOR MEETING WITH COMSUBLANT.

3. ADMIRAL R. DONCHEZ SENDS.

BT//

Pacino shook his head as he read the message. What could be so urgent that he’d be pulled off the ship with only a two-hour transit left of her trip? Even if the brass were unhappy enough with his illegal emergency-blow tactic to relieve him of command they’d still let him drive in and see his replacement standing on the pier with the commodore. It made no sense.

“XO,” Pacino called over his shoulder through the wall to the XO’s stateroom. Rapier tapped on the door and entered through the bathroom between the two rooms.

“XO, better get the small-boat transfer-team ready to go. The boat will meet us at the entrance to the channel.”

“Who are we transferring on? Or off?”

“Me. You’ll be acting captain of the Devilfish. Be careful with her.” Rapier frowned. “What’s up, skipper? Is this about your emergency surface? You think the brass are pissed off?”

“I guess we’ll see,” Pacino said. The topside crew of the Devilfish caught the lines of the 40-foot boat maneuvering alongside. The submarine and the transfer boat cruised at 5 knots, just enough to maintain steering. The boat was winched in tight, touching the Devilfish’s steel curvature. Pacino, in a heavy green canvas parka and flaming orange lifejacket, moved close to the edge of the sub’s treacherously sloping cylindrical hull and grabbed the outstretched arm of one of the sailors in the small boat. When he had been pulled aboard, the transfer boat took in its lines and slowly pulled away from the submarine. Dimly Pacino heard the P.A. Circuit One announcement booming over the submarine’s bridgebox, “DEVILFISH, DEPARTING.”