Chapter 64 Chapter 64

The powerful sound of the shower head woke Janice up.The bedside luminous clock said five past five.She too took a shower, put on a plainclothes, and combed her hair.In the living room, Victor Henry was wearing a white uniform with gold trim and it was buttoned up neatly, reading the Navy correspondence under the light.His clean-shaven face was gray and white.She had expected that somewhat, after he had drank a quart of brandy and slept for sixteen hours.While penciling notes on a letter, he coughed and said kindly, "Good morning, Jean. Did I bother you? I'm sorry." "Good morning, Pa. Don't bother me. Vic usually wakes me up at this hour. How about some bacon and eggs, isn't it too early?"

"Honestly, a little isn't bad. Was Warren home last night?" "Come back. Sleep there." Janice tried to tell him the news of the Squid's sinking, but the way he sat there in his starched uniform, livid and cold, frightened her.He would soon find out anyway, she thought.She made coffee, fed the baby, and started making breakfast.The smell of frying bacon, as usual, drew Warren out of the house.Wearing a khaki uniform, he hummed and brushed his hair.He grinned at his father, and Janice could tell he was putting on airs and wouldn't tell him about the Squid. "Hey, Dad. How's it going?"

"Generally speaking, it's okay." Pug wiped his forehead with his fist, and said with a wry smile, "I seem to have slept all day." "Yes, travel can make people that way." "Exactly. Travel has weird consequences. Did I finish that bottle?" Warren laughed. "Clean and clean." "I remember only drinking half of it." "Dad, the doctor told you to drink. How about some more hangover?" Pug held up a hand. "That's suicidal. This coffee is great." Warren poured himself a cup and said, "You've picked a good day to sleep in. There's a lot of news, but none of it is good."

"Tell me?" "Hitler and Mussolini have declared war on us." "Really? Then the line is clear. They're stupid and they're making things easier for the President. Is that the worst news?" "Did you hear about the Prince of Wales and the Repulse before you fell asleep? The Japs sank them both off Singapore." "what?" "Yeah, air strikes. It's a battleship-versus-aircraft thing, Dad. They sank both warships." "Jesus, Warren. Did they sink the Prince of Wales? Did the English confirm that?" "And the Repulse. Churchill admitted it. The British Navy was screwed from the start. There's nothing left in Australia. Looks like it's all up to us here."

Victor Henry half covered his face with one hand.He thought of the big warship with its colorful camouflage, the dark and handsome officer's mess room, the tired and gallant officers and sailors, the deck where Churchill and Roosevelt sat side by side and sang hymns under the guns—it was all perfect. Lah, it's all over, it's all sunk in the distant Pacific Ocean!He said in a melancholy tone: "Shift change!" "That's the truth." "Did they blow up the Philippines?" Warren took a slow sip of his coffee.He knew very little about the Clark base.The U.S. military command in Luzon suppressed information that could cause alarm.Even the official reports of the attack on Cavite were succinct. He got the news of "Squid" from a secret document.He hoped to prove that the news was not accurate, otherwise, at least the subsequent Cavite telegram would show that Byron was among the survivors.

"Hmph, they seem to have blown up Cavite." "Oh, did it really explode?" "It exploded," said Pug, looking at his son. "Any inside information?" "Not much. They're apparently headed for coastal installations." "The 'Squid' is leaning over there." "You told me." Fortunately, Janice called them to dinner, and Warren was relieved.Pug ate mouthfully, embarrassed to see his son and daughter-in-law have such good appetites, but his throat was almost blocked, and he had to swallow the meal reluctantly. "What's going on today, Dad?" Warren said, feeling a little awkward at having nothing to talk about.

"Oh, I'd like to go to the club and find someone to play a game or two of tennis." "Playing tennis? Are you serious?" "Why not take it seriously? It has to be like it used to be." "Why don't you go to the personnel department of the Pacific Fleet Commander?" "Well, I tell you, Warren, I'm thinking about this. Thousands of officers are looking for new appointments at this very moment. Toms, Dicks, and Harrys of the Battlefleet must be crammed into the Personnel Office Waiting in the reception room. The Admiralty will find me a job in its normal procedure, and maybe I'll do whatever I can."

"You're totally wrong." Never in Warren's life had he heard his father say that, so his reaction was quick and strong. "You've been unlucky, but you're no Tom, Dick, or Harry. You deserve to be the captain of the best warship that's ever been in this fleet. You've been delayed for a day. The Admiralty won't come For you, Pa. You play tennis for a few days and end up going back to the war. Don't you want that?" Warren's forceful tone of voice and thoughts, just as he had been when he was young, made Pug smile. "Jean, pass me the High Command roster, it's on top of the pile of letters." She handed him the mimeographed pamphlet, and he flipped through it. "Hmph, interesting. Personnel - Colonel Theodore Prentice Larkin Jr."

"Know him?" Warren asked. "Larkin the Chimpanzee? The biggest alcoholic in our Naval Academy class. Once he got so drunk that he fell into the Severn from a sailboat and I pulled him out. It was Thanksgiving, I think. , it was a hell of a scene, and I was the only one on board who wasn't drunk. I didn't drink at that time." "Father, our squadron officers have a meeting at seven o'clock. I'll take you to headquarters. Come on." "Hmm, all right. A chimpanzee would never blow me out." On the high ground where Janice had observed the Japanese attack, Warren pulled up.The sun has not risen yet.A grayish reddish morning light enveloped the distant harbor, and there was an unbelievable picture: seven American battleships lined up in two rows, some crooked, some sunk, some turned over Upside down.Smoke from the wreckage still wafts over the dark, smooth water.

Victor Henry looked out through the windshield, and murmured in pain, "Like the chessboard after playing chess." "The board after the first move," Warren retorted. "Did you hear a line that Halsey said? He was on the Enterprise, and they reported the Japanese attack to him, and he said, 'We'll just use the Japanese until we're done with them. Can speak in hell!'” Pug snorted coldly, and asked, "Is this a deep impression on you?" "Greatly cheered up the officers and soldiers. Everyone is quoting that sentence." "Yes. It suits the sailors very well. It's a difficult operational problem to defeat the Japanese now. Especially on the European side, we have a bigger war ahead of us."

"Dad, with all the stuff we're building, we're going to do pretty well." Pug said, "Maybe. But in the meantime we're going to have to suffer for a year or two. How much do people at home want to win wars? Because they can get a lot out of this ocean. Maybe they'll put pressure on the president." Pressure, to get him out of the war, to make a deal. They don't care about Asia at all, never take it to heart." Warren started the car.His father's gloomy mood disturbed him. "They're not quitting the war. Not now, not after this incident. I'll take you to headquarters." He drove the car in his usual desperate way.His dad didn't seem to care.Neither of them spoke.It was in this awkward silence that they reached the headquarters building and drove into the parking lot. "Hmph!" Pug woke up from his listless trance. "Here we go. So, what about you? Will I see you again?" "Of course I will. I hope to. In this war, there will always be a time." "I mean tonight." "That's hard to say. We said we were going to sortie yesterday. Maybe today. There's a sort of confusion in the fleet." "I totally get it. I just feel out of my head myself." "You've got brains, Dad." "I dare not nod hard." Warren laughed.Only then did he see his father's wit. "Don't let Colonel Larkin say 'no'. Better take this bunch of car keys, and I might get out of here." "All right. In case you do go--good luck to you, and good luck in your pursuit, Warren." The father and son looked at each other for a while, and broke up without saying anything else.Victor Henry went all the way into the communications office at HQ, flipping through the telegrams.In the long and jumbled reports of Cavite the night before, he had seen the Squid listed among the sunk items. He went to Larkin the Chimpanzee's office to wait.It was a quarter to seven and no one had come to work, not even paperwork. Pug sat casually on a recliner in the back of the office.Larkin would have done the same if he had been in Pug's office.The windows of this room are wide and large, and there is a panoramic view outside - the sun-drenched hillsides planted with sugar cane, the blue ocean beyond the moorings, and the terrifying smoky port, burned by defeat and destruction. resulting in strange shapes.Victor Henry felt sick, sick, chills, and sweating a little.Of course, this was caused by drinking a bottle of brandy in a few hours.But after reading Rhoda's and Madeleine's letters, the only reliable and timely support was to forget everything. The news of the Squid's sinking struck an almost numb man, hardly surprised him.As soon as he heard of the attack on Cavite, he almost expected bad news about his son.His long experience had taught him that when things went wrong, they went badly.He seemed to have fallen into a bottomless pit of misfortune. However, it will eventually come to an end.At this moment, he thought dazedly, the important thing was to cheer himself up.He didn't know whether Byron was really dead or injured. The Squid may not have even sunk.Initial reports of tension were shaky.It was his idea to cheer up and keep hopeful until there was definite news. With regard to his wife and daughter, however, definite news has come.Rhoda wanted to divorce him and marry Fred Kirby.His daughter was already having an affair with her boss, possibly adultery.All this could be in the papers any day.These things, however incomprehensible, are unalterable facts.He must pay close attention to them and act on them. This would allow him to associate freely with Pamela Tudsbury, but it did not give him any idea of ​​peace of mind.Pug realized now for the first time how little his romantic relationship with the English girl was, and what a strong bond he had with his wife.Rhoda couldn't feel the connection—she could write and send such a letter, and, as usual, casually exclamation points, underlining, gleefully reproaching herself, reproaching She had disliked the life of a Navy family for a long time, praised Pug again, called him almost a saint, and then told him that after twenty-five or six years she wanted to go away and go with her. Another man—this was a stab at the heart, a trauma that could never be recovered.He felt the wound in his heart, a throbbing, mortal wound.Rhoda's letter was coy about the big question: What was the relationship between her and Fred Kirby?On this issue, Victor Henry is torn between two paths.His solid and good judgment told him that there was no doubt that his wife had been nakedly committed to another man, perhaps for quite some time.But out of love for his wife and his pride, he refused to admit that such a thing was possible.So he clings to the vague fact--and it is true--that Rhoda hadn't made it clear that such a thing had happened. Because what Victor Henry wanted now was to win her back.He felt that he loved Rhoda very much.Most of it was wounded pride - he knew it well - but not quite.For better or worse, they are an inseparable pair.Their union has a history of twenty-five years.She was irreplaceable in his life; her arms, her mouth, her eyes, her sweet special manner, were irreplaceable.She was beautiful, admirable, and above all she had a charm that could surprise him.The explicit recognition of these blunt facts astonished him.He had to propose to this woman again!He couldn't blame her too much for this incident.This had been decided in his groggy state before he passed out.Didn't he come close to writing an exact like letter himself?And, oddly enough, he didn't hate Fred Kirby either.What had happened to those two was much the same as what had happened to him and Pamela; only Rhoda had gone over the edge.The scene after scene in his mind made him uncomfortably excited, but he still looked at the incident with a reasonable attitude in his calmness. He might have done himself good by calling out Madeline's manager.One way to overcome the crisis is to find Hugh Cleveland and interview him.Pug regretted letting her stay in New York because of his soft heart.At least he should have persuaded her to go back to Washington; she might.Now the wife of the famous villain is threatening to sue her husband for a divorce and name his twenty-one-year-old assistant.But Madeleine didn't seek the truth from the facts, and swore and swore aggressively at length, but it was hard to be convincing.Madeline's letter, unlike Rhoda's, was not a bomb.What could be more predictable than a girl wandering alone in New York, with someone else, if not Cleveland?Madeleine flew like a dove within rifle range and was shot down. "Pug! All yesterday afternoon I tried to find you. Where the hell are you hiding?" In came Larkin the chimpanzee, a plump, purple-freckled colonel like twenty other colonels.He closed the door, threw his cap on the coat hook, and said to the intercom, "Amory, don't answer." "Yes, yes, sir." "Hello!" Larkin leaned back on the swivel chair, hooked his fat hands behind his head, and observed his classmates with sharp eyes. "It's good to see you. It's a bad thing about the California. She could have had a good captain." "Well, Chimpanzee, I must say, my misfortune seems to have been buried in procrastination." "Who sent you my message, Pug? I left messages in five or six places." "What message? No one delivered it to me. I came here to see you." "What is it for?" "Position." "That's why I'm looking for you." Larkin turned his head to look, although there was no one else in the room, and turned off the intercom again. "Pug, General Kimmel is going to be transferred. He proposed it himself." The chimpanzee almost whispered, adding a mocking smile. "It's like Louis XVI cutting off a head at his own request. His successor is General Pai. We don't know how long he will be in office, but Pai wants to reorganize the staff. We have to face up to this problem, here The head is very funny. Fortunately, the personnel department has nothing to do with the war alert problem. It didn't happen during my shift, but it did happen. General Pye wants you to run the operation department-you shut up, Pat Go!" Seeing Victor Henry shake his head, Larkin the chimpanzee raised a hand. "I'll tell you my verdict. This is a fantastic opportunity that our classmates could only dream of. Come to think of it, six battleships of the Iowa class are under construction and will be executed in twelve to twenty months." Mission. That's the finest battleship in the world. You'll get one later." "Chimpanzee, get me a boat." "I'm telling you, you're bound to get one." "Now. Not in 1943." "It can't be done, Pug, listen to me. You mustn't say 'no' to General Headquarters! Operations is the best job for you." "Where is General Pye's office?" Henry stood up. "Sit down, Pug." Larkin stood up too, and they stood staring at each other. "You son of a bitch, you never play football, you don't play tennis, you don't know your head." "I swim like a croak." Larkin looked a little bewildered, then burst out laughing. "Ah, sit down, Pug." "Can I get a boat?" "Sit down!" Pug sat down. "What's the matter with you, Pug? You're looking sick and acting out of order. Nothing wrong?" "I had too much brandy last night." "Are you drinking too much? You?" "I don't feel well about losing the 'California.'" "I see. How is Rhoda?" "Very good." Victor Henry said these two words calmly, but Larkin frowned.With plump fingers folded over the big belly in white trousers, Larkin stared thoughtfully at Henry. "Let me see. You have a son on the Enterprise, don't you? Is he all right?" "He's fine. I have another one that's a submariner, and he's on the 'Squid.' Or rather, was on the 'Squid.'" "'The Squid,' is it?" Larkin's calm tone was forced. "yes." Larkin opened a folder on his desk and studied the pages contained within. "Perhaps you could be commissioned to command the Northampton. I said maybe. Probably not." "'Northampton'? God bless you, Chimpanzee, it's probably the heaviest warship we have left." "Pug, I don't care. The captain of a cruiser can't be compared to the deputy chief of operations of the Pacific Fleet Commander. You know that. Tim Saunders got it when he left the position last year. Two stars, young and promising, very proud. Even if I do get you the 'Northampton', you will make the big mistake of your life." "You don't know how many big mistakes I've made. Now listen to me, chimpanzee. I've had enough poking around high-level strategy papers in our Admiralty. Four years in Operations Planning and almost three years in Europe. I don't want to be two stars. I'm a sailor and a gunner, and I'm at war now." Victor Henry waved an arm and pointed out the window at the burned battle fleet. "If you can't give me anything else, I'll lead a squadron of minesweepers. Okay? I'm going to sea!" "I heard you, loud and clear," said Larkin the Chimpanzee, from a sigh that turned into a moan, and he went on, "Just another wrestling with the Commander." "Go to hell, I want him to know it's all my idea. Where's he?" "Look, Pug, if you talked to the admiral like you told me, he'd put you on a hospital ship and send you back to America. Looks like a shell concussion, I'm here to figure out what to do. You go to sleep and don't touch the brandy again. Whatever it is that's bothering you, put it away. I'll figure out how to get you some what." "Thanks, Chimpanzee. If you want to call me, I'm at my son's house." He gave Larkin the number. As they shook hands across the table, Colonel Larkin whispered strangely, "Give my regards to Rhoda when you write to her." Dear Rhoda, I find it difficult to reply to your dreadful letter, but the delay does not enlighten me.I don't think it's a waste of your time to put my feelings on paper.Besides, I have no confidence that I can write it, because I am not good at this kind of thing, even if I try to do it. If I really believed that this change would make you happy, I might be able to bear it better.However, this incident makes me feel that it is a disaster for you and me.I thus present my opinion, although you did not ask for my opinion. I know I'm not some Don Juan, in fact, most of the time, just a sullen person next to you.The reasons for this are complex, and it may not be useful to talk about them now.The basic point is that no matter the ups and downs of life, you and I have been together for so many years.I still love you--perhaps a lot more than I've shown--and you've done your best to say good things about me in your letters. I have to think that at the moment you are "lovesick like a schoolgirl" and can't help playing this role.I guess that sort of thing happens all the time, although it's pretty scary when the roof comes down.But you're not a schoolgirl after all, are you?At our age it is not easy to get used to a new person.If you are a widow, the situation is of course different, and there is nothing you can do about it.But now I am still there. Our lifestyle over the years has put too much strain on our marriage.I recognize this, and I do feel nervous myself.In Manila I said to Byron that we had become a Pompas family.It is true that the winds of war have blown us all over the world in recent times.At present, I deeply feel that it is this wind that is beginning to sweep away human civilization.So it's more about clinging to what we have - mainly each other, the family - and loving each other till the end.That's how I figured it out.I hope you can figure it out if you think about it more. I'll probably be spending most of my time at sea for the next year or two, so I won't be able to remedy urgent problems anytime soon.I had to do so.I am willing to forget—or try to forget—the letter you wrote to me; or discuss it carefully with you when I return home for vacation next time; or, if you must proceed, I will sign the relevant documents , and do as you asked.But first of all I have to resist.I don't want to let you go so easily.In short, Rhoda, I have two demands: first, your happiness; second, as long as we can, we should live together. ①Punta grass, also called tumbleweed, in autumn the stalks and roots are detached, blown by the wind, and roll around. Warren and I meet often.He had become quite an able officer.He has all the conditions, and his future is unlimited.He had all the brains, guts, shrewdness, toughness, and real talent to be the Chief of Naval Operations.Byron also caught up.We are very lucky to have such two sons.I know they're all at risk, but the whole world is at risk, at least our son is serving.I can't ask for anything more. What happened to Madeleine, I don't know.I'm getting a little bored about her, so I won't say much more about it.If the guy was going to marry her and clean up the mess, all the better.Otherwise, I must ask only him. You are right in saying that your news will cause me less pain because I have received orders to aboard the California.It's doing that in a weird way.Disasters have been a regular occurrence for me ever since I flew into Pearl Harbor on a clipper jet past blazing Wake Island and Midway.Your letter fits it all into an almost normal way.I mean almost. I'm someone who loves family life and someone who only wants one woman.Rhoda, you know all about this.Maybe I'm old-fashioned, an outdated type.Even so, I live to the best of my intelligence.I thought, and always think, that Fred Kirby - whatever happened - was pretty much the same type of guy as I am.If I'm not mistaken, this matter isn't going to work in your favor after all, so you'd better get out now.This is the most sincere opinion I can give you. Victor was a beautiful doll and Janice was a good mother and beautiful too.Our other grandson looks uncannily like Baby Byron.Attached is a snapshot I got from Natalie's old friend Sloter in Moscow.I'd hate to let go of this photo, but I know you want to see it.God bless her and that kid to get out of Italy safely before Mussolini declares war.Larkin the Chimpanzee greets you.He was fat and strong. It's almost done.Now it's time for me to live up to my salary - I hope - and go to war. love you Pug Pearl Harbor Naval Club December 12, 1941 It was almost time for dinner when Victor Henry finished writing this letter, and the lounge in the officers' club became more and more crowded and noisy.He read the letter twice, thinking how dull it was, but decided not to rewrite it.All major issues are covered.Some letters may not be corrected after being revised a hundred times.The letter he sent to Pamela Tudsbury (it seemed so long ago) was clumsier and poorer than most of the letters he threw away.He sealed the envelope. "Hey! Pug!" the chimpanzee Larkin and the three young officers stopped and told them to go and occupy a table first. "I've been trying to call you. Did you hear about the Squid?" "No." Pug's heart was pounding. "What's the matter?" "Well, it was the Sea Lion that was sunk in Cavite. Subsequent reports have only just been received. The Squid was unhurt." "Really?" Pug had to cough twice. "Is it certain now?" "Couldn't be more certain. The report on the 'Squid' was false, the Telegraph said." "I see. I'm sorry for the Sea Lion, but you have good news. Thank you." "My other news isn't so happy, Pug. The one we talked about—I'm still working on it, but it looks like an unfulfilled dream." "Well, you warned me. It's all right." "But I'm still figuring things out for you. Come eat with us." "Next time, chimpanzee." Pug dropped the letter in the club mailbox and stepped out into the sunlight.A stone fell from his heart.Byron is safe and sound!Anyway, the chimpanzee will help him out to sea.He wandered across the naval base to the beach, thinking about the sharp turn of his luck.On the side of the refueling pier, the thick oil pipeline is beating like a blood vessel, and the "Northampton" is refueling here. Pug fought back the desire to see the cruiser as he left Larkin's office.He thought it might be inauspicious to step on deck before orders had been given.Don't care about that now.He wanted to go up the gangway and look up; but to see?He served a year and a half on a sister ship, the HMS Chester.A beautiful ship of this sort, he thought, pacing along the wharf beside the hustle and bustle of the Northampton; loading ammunition for combat patrols, frozen food and petrol--a beautiful ship, But a bastard of mixed blood, the product of an unhealthy hybrid of politics and shipbuilding. Pug thought the Washington Treaty was a ridiculous and stupid thing, which had tied the hands of the United States as early as 1922, limiting the tonnage of cruisers to less than 10,000 tons and the caliber of guns to eight inches.But the length of the hull is not limited.The result was this hybrid—an overstretched destroyer the length of a battleship but one-fourth the steel weight, with slender beams, thin armor, and moderate firepower.Their mission is to conduct reconnaissance, raid merchant ships, and fight enemy cruisers.Any one of Japan's ten battleships could pulverize the Northampton; it would not stand up to a torpedo attack unless it had a well-equipped controlled destruction device.Compared with the "California", the "Northampton" is insignificant. Still, Pug thought, he'd be glad to get it.Watching this cruiser load up with beans, shells, and gasoline for combat missions is very exciting.The chimpanzee was right, the Operations Division was a shortcut to promotion.But, for the present, Pug felt that his own boat needed some beans, shells, and gasoline, just to cheer it up. He drives home.On the bedroom desk, there was a crumpled Western Union cable with a handwritten note pinned to it: From: Janice Recipient: father-in-law Subject: Miscellaneous 1.In case anything happens, I'm at Gillette's with Vic.Go home to eat dinner. 2.Warren called and didn't come back.They strike at dawn. 3. The clerk of the "California" sent the attached telegram.It is said that they have been at the base for several days, and they have just been transferred to their seaside office. 4.say hello.He opened the telegram. Dearest, I just heard the Japanese attack on the radio. I am extremely shocked and extremely anxious. The previous letter is absurd and stupid. It is too inappropriate. I am extremely ashamed and very sad. I hope you will forgive me and wish you well Hope to call back Arlo He sat reading the telegram, nodding gravely.What a lively Rhoda!He could almost hear Rhoda dictating the message on the phone: "Extremely shocked, extremely anxious, the previous letter was ridiculous and stupid, so inappropriate. Extremely ashamed, very sad..." Pug suspected it was a bone thrown at the dog.He was familiar with Rhoda's sudden outbursts of regret.She had never been so tender immediately after doing something repulsive.This advantage had carried her through many rough and dangerous situations; her motives for telegraphing were quite sincere.However, the process of remediation, even if it has already begun, will be a long one.Now their marriage was like salvaging the California.He didn't know how to reply to her, so he threw the telegram in a desk drawer with the "previous letter" she had apologized for. At supper Pug drank a good deal of sherry and then a good deal of brandy.Janice kept pouring him wine, which he gratefully accepted.He knew he couldn't sleep without it.The alcohol took its toll, and he couldn't remember how he got into bed.At four o'clock in the morning, he woke up suddenly and thought, he might as well go and see the "Enterprise" sailing.He quietly put on his clothes, closed the outside door without a sound, got into the car, and drove to the observation post. Darkness had mercy on Pearl Harbor.Not a single bombed battleship was to be seen.Overhead was a clear, dark, starry sky, with the constellation Orion sinking in the west and Venus shining in the east, high above a narrow strip of red light.Only a faint smell of smoke in the sea breeze hinted at the scene of catastrophe below.But the east was growing white, and the dawn was over the harbour, and it was not long before the devastation and disgrace were exposed again.At first the battleships were mere vague outlines; but before the stars had vanished, the Battle Fleet of the Pacific was recognizable, looming in two rows along Ford Island, sunken wrecks; , is the "USS California" of the US Navy. Victor Henry turned his face from this hideous sight, looked up at the sky, and saw Venus and the brightest stars: Sirius, Aurigae 1st magnitude, Canis 1st, those ancient guide stars Still glowing there.The usual religious awe came over him, making him feel that there was a God on this poor little earth.He could almost imagine God the Father looking down on this calamity in sorrow and amazement.Wouldn't his sons and daughters find anything useful to do in such a good and fertile world, except digging iron out of the earth to fashion gigantic, grotesque machines to destroy each other?However, this madness is the way of the world.He dedicated his working years to it.Now he's risking his life for it again.why? Because other people are like that, he thought.Because Abel's next-door neighbor was Cain.Because for all its terrible faults, the United States of America was not only his homeland, but the hope of the world.因为既然美国的敌人掘起铁块制成了致命的武器，美国也得同样做，并且要做得更好，不然就得死亡。也许这种恶性循环会随着这头一次的真正世界大战而结束。也许要等到基督的又一次降生而结束。也许永远不会结束。 ①亚伯是亚当和夏娃的次子，该隐是长子。亚伯后为其兄该隐所杀。事见《圣经•旧约•创世记》。 可是他生活在一九四一年。下面，在逐渐明亮的曙光中，躺着他自己的沉船和他自己的被击毁的舰队。这件事是内行的水手和飞行员干的——而且干得还真叫出色——他们是奉与希特勒合作的那些政客之命干的。不把这个魔鬼打得一口气都不剩，世界就不能够朝着理智的生存前进一英寸。现在除了打赢这一仗之外，别无他途。就在维克多•亨利这样沉思的时候，“企业号”在驱逐舰和巡洋舰——包括“诺思安普敦号”在内——护航之下，在晨曦中驶下海峡水道，向大海驶去，带着他的大儿子进入战斗。 回到家里，他看见杰妮丝穿得整整齐齐。“嘿！到什么地方去吗？”他说，“我以为你还在睡觉呢。” “哦，维克咳嗽，老拖着不见好。我要带他到基地医务所去检查检查。你刚刚错过了拉金上校给你打来的电话。” “黑猩猩吗？这么早？” “是的，他给你留了一个口信。他说：'她完全是你的啦。'” 维克多•亨利一下子坐到一张椅子上，脸上一副茫然吃惊的神气。 “我希望是好消息吧？”杰妮丝问。“他说你会明白的。” “'她完全是你的啦'？那就是全部的口信吗？” “是那样。他说，不到中午，他不会回到办公室，但是他相信，你是想马上知道这个消息的。” “哦。倒是挺不错的消息。咖啡好了吗？” “已经好啦。梅安娜会给你做早饭的。” “不，不用啦。光要咖啡就行啦，谢谢你。我说，杰妮丝，你要路过西方联合电报公司，能替我给罗达打个电报吗？” "of course can." 维克多•亨利伸手拿了电话旁边的便条簿，草草写道：信随后到很好刚开始战斗。看了他递给她的一小张纸，杰妮丝咧开嘴，撒娇似的嫣然一笑。 “有什么毛病吗？”帕格问。 “加个'爱'字怎么样？” “当然好。谢谢，琴。你给加上去吧。” 杰妮丝带了孩子离开的时候，帕格拿起电话，打给太平洋巡洋舰分队指挥官。他对杰妮丝的挥手告别只报以一个冷淡的、出神的微笑。杰妮丝随手关上了门，她心里想，再也没有什么比打这个电报这件小事更能说明这位严肃淡漠的公公的为人了。你还得提醒这个人，他是爱他妻子的。