by James Young
“Yeah, well, figured if you could run off and get engaged I could meet someone’s sister,” Sam replied. He sighed heavily. “Really sweet girl, I wonder how she’s taking this.”
“Poorly,” David guessed. “You know, Sadie really not taking this whole thing well.”
“You think?” Sam snorted. “Sorta puts things in perspective when most of the men your husband has introduced you die on the same day.”
David looked at him like a kicked puppy, and Sam was immediately regretful for his tone. Like many big men, beneath their gruff exteriors neither Cobb twin liked seeing people hurt.
At least he’s got Sadie and his church family to fall back on, Sam thought grimly.
“I wish you weren’t so flippant,” David said lowly. “Sadie’s been trying to do what she can as well with the wives. The school and church have been delivering a lot of casseroles.”
“I guess I should try that holy roller thing once in awhile,” Sam said. David looked at him aghast.
“You know, Mom and Patricia would both flay you alive if they heard you talk like that,” David replied. “I would think after all that’s happened you’d be more inclined to consider getting right with God.”
“He’s kept us together this long, David,” Sam said with a slight grin. “I don’t think he’s going to split us up on the other side.”
David exhaled, shaking his head at Sam’s tired joke.
“Patricia is right,” David observed. “You will never be reformed.”
“Patricia is one to talk,” Sam replied. “At least I haven’t left anyone at the altar.”
“No, but you’re apparently too blind to see someone wants to take you there,” David replied.
Oh geez, here it comes, Sam thought, rolling his eyes.
“You know, I think you can at least go visit the two of them,” David continued. “I mean, we know that Eric and Lieutenant (j.g.) Read are getting good home cooked meals on a daily basis, but I have no idea what you’re doing to feed yourself these days.”
Mainly sitting at home having cold sandwiches and drinking myself into oblivion, Sam thought.
“I’m not sure I’d be great company right now,” Sam stated.
“Tootsie worries about you, Sam,” David blurted, exasperated. “I think she’s afraid you’re going to crack.”
Sam started laughing at that, drawing a suspicious look from David.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “I just had a mental image of your conversation where Tootsie revealed that to you.”
“Well she has a point,” David said, stopping Sam’s laughter in its tracks.
“Apparently she’s not the only one,” Sam snapped. He stopped, then felt his face start to color.
“Sorta just proved your point for you, didn’t I?” Sam asked grimly.
“I’ve got this,” David replied. “Take off for an hour, then come on back to find me.”
Sam stretched his arms out and made a sound approximating that of a Wildcat running up as he stood up. David shook his head at his brother.
Twenty minutes later, Sam was rapping on his sister’s door. To his surprise, Jo answered it.
“I see that communication remains a family weak point,” Jo said. “Patricia’s out having a picnic with Lieutenant (j.g.) Read—Eric was supposed to tell you.”
“I’ve been a little bit busy boxing up dead people’s stuff,” Sam replied. “I don’t think my brother knew.”
“Okay, for her next act the amazing Josephine will stick both her feet in her mouth,” Jo stated, stepping back from the door. “What brings you to our humble abode?”
“I was told to stop avoiding my little sister,” Sam said.
“More correctly, you were told to stop avoiding your little sister’s roommate who awkwardly professed her feelings for you in a time of great stress,” Jo stated flatly.
Sam was taken aback.
“Well…” Sam started to say.
“I just received a telegram from my father,” Jo said. “It was slightly sparse on details, but he wanted to make sure I knew that he was capable of sending telegram should someone ‘stop by the house later.’”
Sam looked up in shock as he heard the tremor in Jo’s voice.
“Good thing Western Union is faster than the Pacific Fleet’s casualty office,” she said, the last part trailing off in a sob. Sam strode over and embraced her, wrapping the shorter woman in his arms.
“So I made it a new rule to just start telling people what I’m thinking,” Jo continued, tears in her voice. “How am I doing so far?”
“I can’t complain,” Sam allowed, squeezing her tighter.
“So why don’t you give it a try,” Jo said, squeezing him back then switching to a mocking Southern drawl. “Jo, I think you’re a swell gal, but just not the one for me…”
“Stop it, Jo,” Sam said, leaning back so he could look into Jo’s eyes. “You know it’s not that.”
“Then what is it, Sam?” Jo asked, her eyes wet.
“I look at David with Sadie,” Sam replied, “and I realize that I am just not ready to be that man with anyone. You of all people deserve someone who will treat you like you deserve.”
There was a moment as Jo scanned Sam’s face.
Well maybe I should have stayed with David after all, Sam thought for a moment, bracing himself.
He looks so vulnerable, Jo thought to herself. Damn you, Sam Cobb.
“I simultaneously want to slug you and kiss you, Sam,” she finally said.
“I think we should hold off on the kissing,” Sam replied jokingly, holding her slightly away from him.
“Geez, you could try and not act like that you’d sooner lock lips with Medusa,” Jo observed.
“I’m not like my brothers and sisters, Jo,” Sam retorted. “Woman kisses a man, she’s going to get kissed back. That will lead to something we will both regret.”
“I’m pretty sure only one of us would really regret it,” Jo muttered, stepping back from him. “Jesus Christ, maybe I need to jump on Read before your sister does.”
“Before his sister does what?” Patricia asked from the kitchen, causing Jo to nearly jump high enough to hit the roof.
“Make dinner,” Sam said, not even missing a beat.
This is why I love you, Sam, Jo thought, as Eric and Charles walked into the living room.
“Well you’re moving a lot better,” Sam said, going to give his brother a hug.
“Easy you big lug,” Eric stated. “It’s the pain meds, they’re actually starting to work.”
“Charles,” Jo said, nodding at the befuddled Lieutenant (j.g.) Read.
“Jo,” Read replied. “Captain Cobb.”
“Congrats on the promotion, Read,” Sam said, nodding towards the young pilot’s collars.
“Thank you, sir,” Charles said. “I feel like I cheated to get it though.”
“Getting shot down isn’t cheating,” Sam replied honestly.
Well they seem to be rather accepting of Read, Jo observed, mentally raising an eyebrow. Is it because Eric’s vouched for him, or because the young man hasn’t actually made a move for Patricia?
“It’s my turn to cook, Jo,” Patricia observed, walking into the dining room. “Sam, how long are you here?”
“I need to go back to give David a chance to go home in about twenty minutes,” Sam said.
“Pork chops it is, then,” Patricia replied. “Jo, you want to start some potatoes?”
“Certainly,” Jo replied. Read stood up as she started to leave, prompting Sam and Eric to start doing the same as Jo waved them back down.
“Thank you gentlemen, but you all three need to relax while you can,” she said, shaking her head as she entered the kitchen.
“What’s this Western Union telegram on the table…” Patricia started to say lowly, then stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Jo’s expression. “Oh my God!”
“Calm down, Dad’s fine,” Jo stated lowly. “Or at least, as fine as you can be whe
n you’ve qualified for a Purple Heart.”
Sydney, Australia
1030 Local (1930 Eastern)
22 April (21 April Eastern)
“XO, when was the last time you slept?” Captain Wallace asked as he walked up behind Jacob on the starboard wing of Houston’s bridge.
Dammit Captain, this is not the time to start showing concern for my well-being, Jacob thought. Turning from where he was watching another load of 8-inch shells being passed down into the vessel’s forward magazine, Jacob brought himself erect and tried to force the fatigue from his eyes.
“Sir, with all due respect, I have slept as much as the men,” Jacob replied.
“That was not the question I asked, Commander Morton,” Captain Wallace replied. “Judging from the clumsiness of the evasive maneuver you just attempted to pull, I’d say it’s been at least forty-eight hours.”
Forty-eight would be a generous guess, Jacob thought. That’s just been since I’ve slept, not slept well.
“Sir, judging from the scuttlebutt, we’re needed north,” Jacob replied. “In your absence I was doing my best to expedite that process.”
“Well, give me a status report then,” Houston’s master replied.
“The Vulcan’s crew finished the last repairs on No. 3 this morning,” Jacob said, gesturing towards the heavy cruiser’s stern. The Houston was currently sitting in dry dock where she’d been since arriving in Sydney a little over three weeks before. Once the water had been pumped out from around they heavy cruiser’s hull, it had been possible for the Cockatoo Yard’s specialists to begin performing adequate but swift repairs beneath the waterline. For their part, the American repair crews aboard the Vulcan had used the massive dockside crane to lift out the No. 3 turret and its guns.
“I trust that they were satisfactory?” Captain Wallace asked, eyebrow raised.
“Sir, I’m not necessarily comfortable with their quality,” Jacob replied, “but the turret turns and we have nominal flash protection back. Commander Sloan thinks we can fight well enough, but he would have preferred the repairs be done at Pearl.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” Wallace asked sarcastically.
“Commander Sloan has only informed me of the issues he has, sir,” Jacob replied. “Our hosts have been nothing but gracious.”
“I’m sorry that I was away for so long, XO,” Wallace stated, changing topics. “As you alluded to, a lot has happened since I was over in Fremantle, and that disrupted the conference. Then we were waiting for Vice Admiral Somerville to return from his carrier hunt and General MacArthur to join us.”
Jacob looked to make sure they were alone.
“How did that go, sir?” he asked lowly. “The papers are reporting that it was a great victory, but the rumor mill says that it was a bloody draw.”
“General MacArthure is dead, as is Vice Admiral Somerville” Captain Wallace said heavily. “The Furious was sunk, the Warspite was damaged, and at least three of the Japanese carriers got away towards Malaysia.”
Jacob suddenly felt his fatigue wash over him again.
“The only good news is that Admiral Phillips doesn’t think the Japanese will try and hit Ceylon again,” Captain Wallace observed. “But that was a pretty steep price to pay.”
Ships are dropping like flies, Jacob thought, woozily.
“XO, you need to get some sleep,” Wallace stated.
“Sir, I’m needed…” Jacob protested.
“Jacob, you’re no good to me if you drop off the side of this bridge into the dock beneath us because you’re too tired to stand up straight,” Wallace said. “Come with me to the chart room, and after that you are going straight to bed.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Jacob replied.
“And you will remain in your bunk for at least seven hours,” Captain Wallace continued. “Am I understood?”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” Jacob replied.
“The fact that you’re not putting up more of a fight makes me even more sure you haven’t slept since I’ve been gone,” Captain Wallace observed.
As to the two men headed back into the bridge, Jacob looked out into Sydney’s harbor. The Vulcan was the closet vessel to the dry docks, with the hulk of the destroyer Peary tied up alongside.
Can’t believe that shot up tin can made it back here, Jacob thought. The Japanese destroyers are clearly as powerful as we worried about.
Just beyond the Vulcan and Pearywas the newly arrived U.S.S. Phoenix. A twin to the Boise, the Phoenixhad escorted the Vulcan on her journey from the West Coast. Admiral Hart had directed that the light cruiser would remain in Sydney until the Houston was repaired, then both vessels would move together back north towards Darwin in company with a foursome of destroyers that was expected within a couple of days.
It’s not safe out there for unescorted ships, Jacob thought. Plus he’s probably thinking that someone needs to be ready to defend this place after the last few weeks.
Just before they passed out of the bridge, there was the sound of several ships whistles from further towards the harbor mouth. Both men stopped in their tracks.
Speaking of defense, Jacob thought, looking around to find out where the nearest helmet was. After a moment, he realized the whistles were not signals of an imminent attack.
“Holy shit,” someone exclaimed on the starboard deck below. Both Jacob and Captain Wallace ran out onto the bridge wing on that side. After a moment, Jacob saw what had caused the expletive below.
Holy shit indeed, Jacob thought.
The vessel limping up the harbor, her movement like a crippled prize fighter, was the heavy cruiser H.M.A.S. Canberra. It was clear that the Australia’s sister ship had been in a major fight from the blackened impact points along her hull, and her bridge was smashed to ruin. The vessel’s A turret was still trained to starboard, its guns knocked askew, while smoke wafted up from her amidships. A moderate list to port and the way her hull laid low in the water indicated underwater damage as well, a broad oil slick behind her looking like a wounded animal’s blood trail.
“What in the hell happened to her?” a sailor asked. Both Captain Wallace and Jacob turned to look at the offender, causing the man to decide to be somewhere else, quickly. Taking a look around, Captain Wallace saw that no other sailors were within earshot.
“What happened to her were Japanese bombers,” Wallace replied. “Apparently our friends have a little bit more range than we expected.”
“Where was she?” Jacob asked.
“Couple hundred miles south of Sumatra,” Captain Wallace replied. “Saw a snooper two days ago, called for help. Japanese arrived before the Beaufighters did.”
Jacob gave a low whistle.
“Too bad she didn’t have the Australia with her,” he said. “Radar probably would have helped a bit.”
Captain Wallace turned and looked at Jacob.
“The Sydney was with her,” he replied. “She had radar.”
The past tense was not lost on Jacob.
“How bad is she hit?” Jacob asked, gesturing towards the cruiser.
“She took a torp forward on the starboard side, and you can see the bomb damage to her turrets. Her guns hit some Jap bastard and he did in the bridge,” Captain Wallace answered. “Her XO was hit by a fragment, so the gunnery officer’s her CO right now.”
“Quick promotion,” Jacob noted with no mirth.
“Part of the discussion in Fremantle was the heavy Australian losses,” Captain Wallace said. “That’s two light cruisers sunk in the last month and both of their current heavies damaged. Vice Admiral Crutchley is starting to become a little incensed at his command getting shot up from under him.”
Jacob felt a cool chill that had nothing to do with the freshening breeze.
As bad as the news from Pearl is, we still have the Atlantic Fleet plus the new vessels that we’re building, Jacob thought. The Aussies don’t have shit coming, and the Commonwealth are just as bad off.
“…especially with the Dutch seem
ing hesitant to come to grips with the Japanese,” Wallace was saying, causing Jacob to wonder what the first half of the sentence was.
“Not sure I follow the last, Sir,” Jacob said wearily, finally giving up on trying to fill in the holes.
“There was a probing sweep down the Makassar Strait by some Japanese cruisers,” Wallace explained patiently. “They were detected by an Aussie seaplane, and Admiral Phillips ordered one of the Dutch admirals to attack that night. The Dutch refused, saying they were conserving their forces for landings only.”
“Well that’s awfully nice of them,” Jacob observed bitterly. “I imagine that played really well with a Commonwealth admiral.”
“Admiral Phillips tried to have the man relieved,” Wallace replied. “Admiral Helfrich refused and complained to the Combined Staffs back in Washington. The Brits allegedly told Phillips to back off.”
The Canberra glided stop aligned with the doors of the Houston’s dry dock. Captain Wallace looked at the cruiser with a grim set to his face.
“Marblehead was also with them,” Captain Wallace stated after a few moments. “She came out of the attack with a couple of bomb hits, nearly capsized. Her captain took her to Surabaya where the Dutch are trying to fix her in the floating dry dock. Probably good for her, as she was going to go home through the Indian Ocean—and that would have meant she’d probably have been caught by those carriers.”
“Even without the carriers, that’s a long trip across the Indian Ocean,” Jacob replied, shaking his head. “Sir, we’re getting the shit pounded out of us.”
“Yes, things are taking a turn for the worse,” Captain Wallace replied. “Which is why this vessel will be departing back north in forty-eight hours, two days earlier than we thought. Admiral Phillips seems to think that the Japanese are preparing to make a play for Java, bypassing Borneo.”
“What about the Philippines?” Jacob asked.
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about in the chart room, XO,” Captain Wallace returned. “The Japanese have pushed the Army back onto the Bataan Peninsula.”
“What?!” Jacob said.
“It probably wouldn’t have made a difference if he were there, but MacArthur’s defensive plan was for shit,” Captain Wallace said. “The Japanese outflanked both ours and the Filipino Army’s troops in North Luzon. At that point it was all over but the shouting, and they were lucky to save what they did to fall back on Bataan. Lieutenant General Wainwright’s calling for help”
