Monday Morning With The Admiral

"Oh, Mom, it was ok. Sandra's father and the man next door did the ropes for us and then we had lunch and then played with dolls until they brought me home."

"Sounds like a nice time. Would you like to have her over here next weekend?"

"I'd rather have Helen bring her Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys over here. She's got two big sets and with mine we can make lots of thing. Anyway, Sandra has her confirmation lessons the next four Saturdays so she'll be too busy to play much. What's confirmation anyway, and how do you understand anything if you don't know the language?"

Caroline was whisking the eggs and left that one for Mitch.

He had been watching Nancy, wondering how it was that girls seemed to get more knowing quicker than boys and thinking that they had better have a talk with her about boys.

"Well, Sweetheart, you learn the different words and then the priest or somebody explains them to you then you practice saying them at the right time. When you've learned all that and some other things they make you a member of that church."

Nancy was silent until they were sitting at the table.

"I don't think I'll talk to her about church anymore. I like The Reverend better."

Mitch heard himself with wonder. "I'll take you anytime you want to go, Sweetheart."

"No," said Caroline. "We'll go together. Now that's settled so get a move on, Nancy. I've got SLOT Duty today so you're going to get to school a little early. Scoot!"

SLOT Duty was Caroline's effort to be mock humorous describing her dedicated days, usually two or three a week, when she helped old people with shopping, listening, organizing and touching. She knew that it reminded Mitch and others of terrible battles around Guadacanal, but felt it was useful to remind them of struggles here at home. She slid out of her chair and kissed Mitch full in the mouth with a tongue tangy with marmalade.

"And you, Commander, take it was on The Admiral."

Starting to wash the dishes, Mitch fretted about how much their involvement with the Negro community would be taken out on Nancy. Her account of the weekend could be read either way: a benign tolerance or a subtle effort to guide the child along the path. Most everybody knew that Father Paul, as he liked to be called, had little time for women and even less for Negroes. He was also the religious point man against social activism by anybody of any faith or color, and had once attacked Marsh by name at a Chamber of Commerce dinner. That led Mitch to wonder if the Admiral had adapted his religion to fit the local power structure. Checking the time, he began to review what he knew about Breckinridge.

-- Shit, I should have done this last night and briefed Cat. Well, he'll have to read the weather on his own.

Mitch had no doubts about Breckinridge having earned his rank. After graduating from Annapolis in 1930, he had served on destroyers and light cruisers before earning his wings and flying many combat missions in the long battle for the Solomons. He had become an ace during the dog days when the Zeros were better airplanes. Then, after intensive tours as executive officer on a heavy cruiser and a baby carrier, he was awarded command of a new attack carrier in time for Iwo and Okinawa.

The pilots known to Mitch who had flown from those carriers did not begrudge the Admiral his promotions, but agreed that he was too prudent and unimaginative for anything but shore duty. One of them caught the general feeling in the remark that Breckinridge just lacked the balls of Halsey or the imaginative intelligence of Nimitz to make it to fleet commander or the Joint Chiefs. "He's textbook duty bound. He'd never turn on the lights like Nimitz."

Those judgments made Mitch uneasy, but the unknowns bothered him even more. Breckinridge had graduated before the curriculum reforms of the mid-thirties had engaged the middies in three-times-a week encounters with history, politics and literature. That worried him because of Breckinridge's long South Carolina family traditions that went back to the early days of slavery. And there was a story that one of his family predecessors at the Academy had helped tie a Negro midshipman to the anchor buoy where he died of exposure.

-- Well, scrub that; but I still better keep my mouth shut this morning. Stick to what he says today. Cat's probably better off not knowing all this stuff.

Mitch started to dress. The working uniform of the day for officers was tan, open-necked, short-sleeved shirt, slacks, and the headgear of choice (usually the overseas cap if you were scheduled to fly, otherwise a battered hat squashed until it sagged around the edges). He decided it was prudent to wear a tie and jacket, but he chose gear that had been washed in sea water and lacked his ribbons-particularly the Navy Cross which the Admiral did not have.

-- Kid stuff, Mitch; but sometimes useful as well as fun.

Table of Contents

• Introduction

1. Maggie and Mr. Hank
2. The Reverend
3. Squalls Along the Flight Line
4. Flying Home to Church
5. A Visit with The Judge
6. Communion
7. Afterthoughts
8. Monday Morning With The Admiral
9. Into the Dining Room
10. On Toward Walking the Streets
11. Glimpses of An Election
12. The Dream and The Reality of Violence
13. The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
14. Down That Lonesome Road

• Cast of Characters
• Credits and Acknowledgements