Lawrence laughed. "It won't end. We'll beat the Germans to U-235, and that's the key to this war. Their industrial base is far inferior to ours.
But the committee will certainly have to change its ways. The procedure is incredibly cumbersome. This business right now, for instance. Intolerable! One interview at a time, for secrecy, tying all of us up for days on end! We need one knowledgeable man in constant liaison with business andindustry, and we need him right away."Lawrence paused, and added, "We've just been talking about you."
"Me? No thanks." "Fred, you're an engineer, you know business, and your gra.p of theory is adequate. That's the desired combination, and it's rare. Unfortunately, no job in the world is more important right now, and you know that."
"But ye gods, who would I work for? And report to? Not the National Bureau of Standards, for God's sake!" "That point is wide o For secrecy, you might just get a consulpe tant post in the Navy.
Captain Kelleher is full of fire to get going, which rather amuses me.
Years ago, Fermi came to the Navy with this entire project outlined.
They turned him away as a crackpot. The Navy turned away Enrico Fermi!
Well, Fred? Will you serve?"
After a pause Kirby said, "Where would I be posted?"
'It would have to be in Washington." Kirby was silent so long that Lawrence added, "Something wrong With going to Washington?"
"I didn't say that, but if you want those electromagnets built-I, "that's a year away, even assuming the approach is approved and the money appropriated. This must be done now. What do you say?"
This was Lawrence in his urgent and imperious vein, which Kirby knew well. He considered Lawrence possibly the most brilliant man alive.
Kirby was several years older than the Nobel Prize winner. He had given up a straight scientific career and gone into industry after getting his PhD largely because of his encounters with Lawrence and a few other men much younger than himself and unreachably more brilliant.
They had made him feel outclassed and deflated. To be urged now by this man to take on a task of this importance was irresistible.
"I hope to hell I'm not offered the job," he said. "If I am, I'll accept."
By the time the sun rose over San Francisco, the line between night and day had travelled halfway around the earth, and the invasion of the Soviet Union was half a day old. Masses of men had been killed, most of them Russians, and the Soviet air force had lost hundreds of airplanes-or Perhaps more than a thousand; the disaster was already beyond precise documenting.
In the officers' club at the Mare Island Navy Yard, at a window tab], in the sunshine, several submarine skippers were chatting about the invasion Over ham and eggs. There was little dispute over the outcome. All agreed that the Soviet Union would be crushed; some gave the Red Army as long as six weeks, others foresaw the end in three weeks or ten day,. s These young professional officers were not a narrow-minded or prejudiced handful; their view was held in the armed forces of the United States right to the top. The wretched showing of the Red Army against Finland had confirmed the judgment that Communism, and Stalin's bloody purges, had reduced Russia to a nation of no military account. Arne can war plans, in June 1941, ignored the Soviet Union in estimating the world strategic picture. The submariners at Mare Island, peacefwly gossiping at breakfast about the spread of the holocaust on the other side of the world, were expressing only what the service as a whole believed.
The main topic of discussion was whether or not the Japanese would now strike; and if so, where. These few lieutenant commanders inclined to agree that so long as the President kept up his suicidal policy of letting them buy more and more oil and scrap iron, the japs would probably hold off. But the consensus lasted only until Branch Hoban of the Devilfish challenged it.
No skipper in the squadron had more prestige. Hoban's high standing in his class, his chilling air of competence, his sharp bridge game, his golf shooting in the seventies, his ability to hold liquor, his beautiful wife, his own magazine-cover good looks, all added up to an almost suspiciously glamorous facade. But the facade was backed by performance. Under his command the Devilfish had earned three E's in engineering and gunnery, and in fleet maneuvers in May he had sneaked the Devilfish inside a destroyer screen and hypothetically sunk a battleship. He was clearly a corner beaded for flag rank. When Lieutenant Commander Hoban talked, others listened.
Hoban argued that the world situation was like a football game, an d that in Asia, the Russian Siberian army was the player facing japan.
With this latest move, Hitler had sucked the Russian man back toward the other wing, to be held as Stalin's last reserve. This was japan's big chance. The Nips now had a clear field to run the ball from China south to Singapore, the Celebes, and Java, cleaning up all the rich European possessions. If only they moved fast enough, they could go over the line before the United States could pull itself together and interfere. He broke off elaborating this favorite metaphor of servicemen and left the breakfast table when he saw his new executive officer motioning to him from the doorway.
lieutenant Aster handed him a dispatch from Commander, Submarines Pacific: DEVILFISH OVERHAUL CANCELLED EXCEPTION P&PAMS VITAL OPERATIONAL READINESS X REPORT EARLIEST POSSIBLE DATE UNDIERWAY MANILA.
"Well, well, back to base!" Hoban grinned, with a trace of high-strung eagerness. "Very well! So ComSubPac expects the kickoff too. Let's see, today's the twenty-second, eh? There's that compressor and number four torpedo tube that have to be buttoned up.
Obviously we don't get the new motor generator, and all the job orders will have to wait till we get alongpenci side in Manila. But that's okay." Holding the dispatch againndsthtahnedwedall,t htoe lied in neat print, Underway twenty-fourth 0700, Aster. "Send that off operational priority."
"Can we do it, sir?"
"Make the Captain of the Yard an information addressee. He'll damn well get us out of here."
"Aye aye, sir. We'll be short an officer. Ensign Bulottis hospitalized for two weeks."
"Damnation. That I forgot. Well, we sail with four officers, then.
Stand watch-and-watch till we get to Pearl, and try to hook us a fresh ensign out of the sub pool there.) 'Captain, do you know anybody in ComSubPac Personnel?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Well enough to spean ensign off new construction?"
To Aster's saucy grin, Hoban returned a droll grimace. "Got someone in mind?"
"'There is this ensign, a shipmate of mine off the S-45 who's just reported aboard the Tuna. It's two whole months away from shakedown."
"Is he a good officer?" "Well, unfortunately he's a sack rat and goof-off." "Then what do we want him for?"
"I can make him deliver. In a pinch he's resourceful and courageous.
His father's a captain in War Plans, and his brother flies an SBD off the Enterprise.1
that doesn't sound too bad. What class is he?" "He's a r se e.
k, Captain e rv Loo n," Aster exclaimed, at Hoban's wry expression, the officer Pool will be full of reserves. You're not going to keep a whole wardroom of regulars. Not on the Devilfish.
Byron stands a good diving watch, and I know him."
"Byron?"
"His name's Byron Henry. Briny, they call him."
"Okay, maybe I'll telephone Pearl. Kind of a dirty trick to play on this Briny, though, isn't it? New construction, based in Pearl, is a lot better duty than going to Manila in the Devilfish."
"Tough titty."
Hoban looked curiously at his executive officer. He did not yet have Aster sized up. "Don't you like him, Lady?"
ASter shrugged. "We're short a watch gander."
The Pacific showed no combative specks to the westward-moving sunrise. Early sunlight slanted into the hangar deck of the Enterprise, oored to buoys in Pearl Harbor, on disembowelled airplanes, halfassembled torpedoes, and all the vast clutter of the floating machine shop that this deck was in peacetime. Sailors in greasy dungarees and officers in khakis wer
e at work everywhere. Through the steel hollow, smelling as all carriers do of gasoline, rubber, metal, and sea air, a boatswain's pipe reverberated above the workaday noise, followed by a Southern voice on the loudspeaker: 'Now hear this.
Meeting of all oflicers in the wardroom in ten minutes." Warren Henry climbed out of the cockpit of an SBD, wiping his hands on a greasy cloth. He put on his khaki cap, saying to the sailors working with him, "noes me. Wish me luck." When he arrived in the wardroom, officers in khaki shirts and black ties already filled the chairs and lined the sides. AmidshiPs, against the forward bulkhead, stood the movie screen, and on the green baize of a nearby table a slide projector rested. The captain, a chubby man with thick prematurely gray hair, rose and strode before the screen as soon as he saw Warren.
'Gentlemen, I guess you've all heard the news. I've been keeping track on the shortwave, and it seems clear already that Der Fuhrer has caught Joe Stalin with his hammer and sickle down." The officers tittered fonnaby at the captain's pleasantry. 'Personally I feel sorry for the Russian people, saddled with such lousy leadership. The few times I've encountered their navy officers, I've found them friendly and quite professional, though somewhat odd in their ways.
"The question is, how does this affect the mission of the Enterprise?
"Now, as many of us know, lieutenant Henry of Scouter Squadron Six is something of a red-hot on military history. I've asked him to give us a short fin-in here, before we get on with the day's work, so that-attention on deck!"
Rear Admiraral Colton appeared through a doorway, and with the noisy scrape of scores of chairs, all the officers stood up. He was a barrelchested man with a plump purplish face scarred by plane crashes, a naval captain conducted him to a leather armchair hastily vacated by his exec.
aviator dating back to the Langley, now ComAirPac's chief of staff. The lighting an enormous black cigar, the admiral motioned at the officers to take their seats.
Standing before the screen, Warren started in the modest monotone of most Navy instructors, hands on hips, legs slightly apart. He made the conventional deprecatory joke about his ignorance, then went straight at the topic.
'Okay. Now, naturally, our concern is the Japanese. In theory, there should be no battle problem here. We're so much stronger than japan in ilitary potential that any jap move to start a war looks suicidal. So you hear civilians say we'll blow the little yellow bastards off the map in two weeks, and all that Poppycock.- Some of the young officers were smiling; their smiles faded. Warren hooked a blue and yellow Hydrographic Office chart over the movie screen, and took up a pointer. "Here's a chart of the Pacific. People shouldn't talk about blowing anybody off the map without a map in front of them."
Warren's pointer circled the French, Dutch, and British possessions in southeast Asia. "Oil, rubber, tin, rice-you name what japan needs to be a leading world power, and there it sits. With what's happened to the armed forces of the European empires since 1939, it's almost up for grabs. And the first thing to notice is that it's all in the jap back yard. We have to steam for days, far past japan, just to get there.
The territory in dispute, in any Pacific war, Will be ten thousand miles or more from San Francisco, and at some points only eight hundred miles from Tokyo.
"Well, so our government's been trying to keep the japs quiet by letting them buy from us all the steel, scrap iron, and oil they want, though of course the stuff goes straight into the stockpile they need to fight a war against us. Now, I have no opinion of that policy-"
"I sure have," came a sarcastic gravelly growl from the admiral. The officers laughed and applauded. Colton went on, "It's not fit for tender ears. Sooner or later they'll come steaming east, burning Texaco oil and shooting Pieceslof old Buicks at us. Some policy! Co ahead, Lieutenant.
Sorry.)P Quiet ensued as Warren took away the chart. A pallid slide flashed on the screen, a situation map of the Russo-Japanese war.
"Okay, a little ancient history now. Here's Port Arthur," Warren pointed, "tucked far into the Yellow Sea, behind Korea. jap back yard again. Here's where the japs beat the Russians in 1905. Without a declaration of war, they made a sneak attack on the Czar's navy, a night torpedo attack. The Russians never recovered. The Nips landed and besieged this key ice-free port. when Port Arth r finally fell, that was it. the Czar accepted a negotiated peace with a primitive country, one-eth the size of his own! It was as great a victory for the japs as the American Revolution was for us.
"Now I personally think our history books don't give that war enough Play. That's where modern Japanese history starts. Maybe that's where all modern history starts. Because that's where the colored man for the first time took on the white man and beat him."
In one corner, near the serving pantry, the white-coated steward's nates, all Filipino or Negro, were gathered. When the topic was not secret, they had the privilege of listening to officer lectures.
Glances now wandered to them from all over the wardroom, in a sudden stillness. The Filipino faces were blank masks. The Negroes' expressions were various and enigmatic; some of the younger ones tartly smiled. This awkward moment caught Warren unawares. The presence of the steward's mates had been a matter of course to him, hardly noticed.
He shook off the embarrassment and plowed on.
"Well, this was a hell of a feat, only half a century after Perry opened up the country. The japs learned fast. They traded silk and art objects to the British for a modern steam navy. They hired the Germans to train them an army. Then they crossed to the mainland and licked Russia.
"But remember, Moscow was a whole continent away from Port Arthur.
The only link was a railroad. Long supply lines licked the Czar.
Long supply lines licked Cornwallis, and long supply lines licked Napoleon in Russia. The further you have to go to fight, the more you thin out your strength just getting there and coming back.
"Incidentally, at the Naval War College war games often start with a sneak attack by the japs on us, right here in Pearl Harbor. That derives from the Port Arthur attack. The way the jap mind works, why shouldn't they repeat a trick on the white devils that once paid off so well?
"Well, of course 1941 isn't 1905. We've got search planes and radar.
This time the japs could get themselves royally clobbered. Still, the nature of this enemy is strange. You can't rule that possibility out.
"But always remember his objective. When the japs took on the Czar in 1904, they had no intention of marching to Moscow. Their objective was to grab off territory in their own back yard and hold it.
That's what they did, and they still hold it.
"If war breaks out in the Pacific, the japs are not going to set forth to occupy Washington, D.C and my guess is they won't even menace Hawaii. They couldn't care less. They'll strike south for the big grab, and then they'll dare us to come on, across a supply line ten thousand miles long, through their triple chain of fortified island airfields-the Gilberts, the Marshalls, the Mananas-and their surface and submarine fleets, operating close to home under an umbrella of land-based air.
"So I don't exactly see us blowing them off the map in two weeks."
Warren looked around at the more than a hundred sombre young faces.
"Peace in the Pacific once rested on a rickety three-legged stool.
One leg was American naval power; the second, the European forces in southeast Asia; and the third, the Russian land power in Siberia.
"The European leg of the stool got knocked out in 1940 by the C;ermans. Yesterday, the Germans knocked out the Russian leg.
Stalin's not going into any Asian war-not now. So it's all up to us, and with two legs out of the stool, I would say peace in the Pacific has fallen on its ass."
Warren had been talking along very solemnly, flourishing his pointer.
The joke brought surprised chuckles.
"As to Captain Nugent's question, what is Hitler's motive toti oe the mean us, the answer therefore comes out loud and Clear, when you
look at the map. Der Fuhrer has sounded general quarters for the Enterprise.
Rear Admiral Colton was first on his feet to lead the applause.
Clenching the cigar in his teeth, he pumped Warren)s hand.
Gliding across an imaginary line that splits the Pacific Ocean from the north to the south polar caps, the sunrise acquired a new label, June 23. Behind that line, June 22 had just dawned. This murky international convention, amid world chaos, still stood. For the globe still turned as always in the light of the sun, ninety million miles away in black space, and the tiny dwellers on the globe still had to agree, as they went about their mutual butcheries, on a way to tell the time.
The daylight slipped westward over the waters, over charming green island chains, once German colonies, all entrusted to japan under her pledge not to fortify them-all fortified. Endeavoring to emulate the white man, japan had studied European history in the matter of keeping such pledges.
Herman Wouk - The Winds Of War Page 87
