When Tides Turn Page 8

  A low muffled boom.

  Dan sucked in his breath and held tight. A fireball rose from the same area, ugly yellow and white. Was it the same ship or another? Had the fire caused the explosion? Or had a U-boat found another victim?

  On the Wilkes the alarm sounded general quarters.

  “Better hurry, sir,” he called up to the admiral.

  “Yes . . . indeed. I don’t . . . like the sound . . . of that.”

  Two sailors leaned over and assisted the admiral onto the deck, then Dan followed.

  “What’s going on?” Dan asked.

  “Don’t know, sir.” A sailor hauled in the ladder.

  The admiral led the way to the bridge. All around, officers and men scurried to battle stations, neatly and in order, orchestrated by training and discipline.

  Up in the pilothouse, orders flew.

  “What’s the word, Captain?” Admiral Howard asked Lt. Cdr. John McLean.

  The captain lowered the Talk Between Ships telephone. “Received a call on the TBS. The Winooski was hit by a torpedo.”

  A U-boat. Dan’s cheeks filled with air. That explained the fireball. The Winooski was the fleet oiler that had refueled the Wilkes the day earlier.

  “Sir?” The junior officer of the watch looked up from the log. “The Hambleton is supposed to be refueling right now.”

  One of their fellow destroyers in danger from torpedoes and flames.

  McLean hung up the TBS. “The Joseph Hewes took a fish too.”

  Dan winced. A transport, laden with vital supplies for the troops ashore.

  “Lousy Krauts,” Admiral Howard muttered. “Anything on radar? Sonar?”

  “No, sir.”

  A nod from the admiral, and Dan headed to the radar room. “Two ships have been torpedoed, men. Any contacts?”

  “The SG radar’s down, sir.” The radarman pointed to the dark scope. “Blew out a vacuum tube. We’re trying to replace it.”

  A finicky system, but all they had. “Carry on. On the double.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Back in the pilothouse, Dan reported the status of the surface radar to the admiral. “Any sound contacts, sir?”

  “Nothing. All of these ships, and no one has a contact.”

  “Are we moving in?”

  The admiral shook his head. “We need to keep station in case it’s a wolf pack.”

  Made sense. The cruisers Augusta and Cleveland and the destroyers Bristol and Murphy were closer to the Joseph Hewes and Winooski anyway.

  Dan and the admiral stepped onto the wing of the bridge, and Dan grabbed some binoculars. Looked like three distinct fires. Had the Hambleton been hit too?

  Admiral Howard buttoned his overcoat. “As you can see, we still have work to do in antisubmarine warfare.”

  A sick feeling slumped in Dan’s stomach. Despite a protective minefield and twelve warships with modern equipment, at least two ships had been torpedoed. How many men would die tonight? How much valuable tonnage would settle to the bottom of the Atlantic?

  It made him feel helpless, and he hated feeling helpless.

  “The Bristol has a sound contact,” a talker called inside the pilothouse. “She’s making a depth-charge attack.”

  Dan set his jaw. Either another U-boat was trying to penetrate the destroyer screen, or the first U-boat was trying to escape.

  This work needed to continue, and for now, Dan was proud to be a part of it. His assignment in ASWU was almost over, and it had been a great opportunity. Participating in Operation Torch had introduced him to some of the top men in the Atlantic Fleet. The ASWU had originally seemed like a diversion from his goal, but it had turned into a blessing. He breathed a prayer of thanks, a moment of refreshment.

  Maybe his new commitment to rest would be a similar blessing. What seemed like a distraction from his goals might turn out to be beneficial.

  An image flashed through his mind of a golden, sparkling blonde. Would it be the same with a woman?

  No. Definitely not.

  The exact opposite. Joanie had seemed like a great blessing, but she was a grave distraction. She pulled him away from his work. She disrupted his thoughts when he was on duty. She begged him not to go to sea and leave her. Feminine charms turned to demands.

  He refused to make that mistake again.

  “Sir, the Hambleton reports taking a torpedo, but damage is manageable. And the Winooski is staying afloat. But the Joseph Hewes . . . has sunk.”

  Dan closed his eyes against the news.

  He had plenty of work to do. He refused to allow anything—or anyone—to interfere.

  13

  Smith College

  Tuesday, November 24, 1942

  Ensign Tess Beaumont. She traced the light “reserve blue” stripe above the cuff of her navy-blue jacket. “We’re officers. I can’t believe it.”

  Excited feminine voices filled the auditorium of John M. Greene Hall after the graduation ceremony.

  “We did it together.” Ada Sue squeezed Nora’s arm.

  Nora’s cheeks colored. “Thanks for getting me through field hockey. May we never have to play the foul game again.”

  “Nothing against you, Nora . . .” Tess raised one hand. “But I solemnly vow to forget everything I learned about naval history.”

  The ladies laughed together, delightful music never to be played again. Today they’d ship to their new stations.

  Ada Sue waved her sealed orders. “If no one’s volunteering to go first, I will.”

  Tess clutched her own envelope. Where would the Navy send her? Sunny California? Bustling Manhattan? Historic Charleston?

  Ada Sue squealed. “Florida! I’m assigned to the Naval Air Station in Jacksonville, supervising enlisted WAVES. Good-bye to this wretched cold.”

  Tess laughed. “It’s still autumn. It hasn’t even snowed yet.”

  “There’s ice on the sidewalk. That’s wretched enough.” Kate ripped open her envelope. “Please, somewhere warm. Mare Island Navy Yard in California, working in supply. Hooray! I might meet movie stars.”

  “Mare Island is closer to San Francisco than Hollywood.” Nora eased her finger under the lip of her envelope and pulled out her orders. “Boston Navy Yard. Communications.”

  “Oh!” Tess gripped Nora’s arm. “You can meet my friends.”

  Ada Sue prodded her. “Come on, Tess. What are you waiting for?”

  She stared at her envelope. “I don’t know. I want to go somewhere new and adventurous, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving you.”

  Kate lifted her chin with a regal air. “You are an officer in the United States Navy, Miss Beaumont. Nothing cute about it . . . or sentimental. Open your orders and obey them.”

  “They should have made you a drill master.” Tess opened her envelope and read her orders. Twice. Her face tingled, and her mouth drifted open. “Boston Navy Yard.”

  “With me?” Nora’s smile lit up her face. “That’s wonderful. What department?”

  The stripe on her sleeve suddenly looked narrower, dwindling away to nothing. “Coordinating war bond sales.” Because she was pretty and chipper and would sell a lot. So much for becoming a woman of depth and substance.

  Nora peered over her shoulder. “There’s something more. Supervising WAVE yeomen at the Anti-Submarine Warfare Unit? I’ve never heard of that.”

  “I have.” Tess groaned. “That’s the worst part.”

  “Well, what is it?” Kate stepped to the side to let another group of WAVES pass.

  “We should go back to quarters and grab our gear so we can catch our trains.” Tess motioned up the aisle. “I’ll explain on the way.”

  Her friends followed. Greta Selby sat a few rows back, and Tess smiled at her. “Congratulations, Greta.”

  “You too.” The nicest thing Greta had ever said to her, but at least she’d stopped the mean digs.

  A partial success. But her new dilemma . . . she saw no way out.

  Tess walked outside into
a crisp autumn day. Yesterday’s rain had frozen into slick puddles overnight, and the trees were bare.

  “Well?” Kate nudged her. “What’s this Anti-Submarine Unit?”

  “Anti-Submarine Warfare Unit.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “And my friend Lillian’s brother is an officer there. That’s how I know about it.”

  “And . . . ?”

  Tess glared at Kate. Maybe she wouldn’t miss these friends after all. “And I find this brother extraordinarily attractive.”

  Kate and Ada Sue squealed.

  “What’s he like?” Ada Sue said.

  Tess scrunched up one corner of her mouth. “There’s something about him. The strong, silent, no-nonsense type.”

  “Intriguing.” Kate sidestepped an icy patch. “So what’s the problem?”

  “He doesn’t even like me. He thinks I’m silly.”

  Ada Sue gasped. “He said that?”

  “No, but I can tell. He looks right through me.”

  “Tess?” Nora’s brow wrinkled. “He’s a naval officer, right? Don’t forget—”

  “Oh, that stupid rule!” Ada Sue stuffed her hands in the pockets of her overcoat. “WAVES can marry men in the Army, Marines, or Coast Guard—but not the Navy. Who thought of that?”

  “Someone who wants us to be seen as professionals,” Nora said. “You know what they’re saying in some of the papers, that we’re a bunch of floozies out to snare men.”

  “I don’t want to date him anyway,” Tess said. “I want to forget him, but now I have to work with him. How can I work with a man I’m attracted to?”

  Kate shrugged. “Same as you would in any job. Do your duties and maintain a civil distance.”

  Above her, bare tree limbs formed a tangled web. If only Dan would stay at sea for a very long time. But didn’t he always say he was only in Boston until February? November was almost over. Less than three months. She could do this.

  Besides, working together might show her an unpleasant side to Daniel Avery, an unsavory habit or annoying quirk. Why, yes. She’d keep an eye out for that.

  “Look on the bright side,” Kate said. “Now you might be able to catch the French spy.”

  Yes, she might. A smile inched up. “The game is afoot.”

  Off Hampton Roads, Virginia

  Dan stood at the stern of the light cruiser USS Philadelphia.

  He was going the wrong way. The day after a U-boat sank the Joseph Hewes and damaged the Hambleton and Winooski, a U-boat sank three more transports off Fedala.

  Boom, boom, boom.

  Despite the destroyers and minefield and radar and sonar, three more ships were lost.

  The following day Dan sailed away. He rapped his fist against his thigh. He had no choice. The reports needed to be delivered and analyzed so the experts could build better weapons and craft better detection systems and formulate better tactics. His work was vital.

  Convoy GUF-1 surged over the waves under an overcast sky. An uneventful cruise for the warships and transports returning from Operation Torch. Later today, the convoy would pull in to Hampton Roads, but the Philadelphia would proceed north to the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

  Tomorrow afternoon in New York, he and Admiral Howard would attend meetings. On Thursday, Dan would eat his Thanksgiving dinner on a train bound for Boston. Then Friday, back to work at ASWU.

  He checked his watch. Half an hour until he’d get a turn with a typewriter.

  On Sunday, he’d forced himself to take a Sabbath day’s rest. Hardest thing he’d done in years. He’d walked the decks, borrowed month-old magazines, and chatted with the crew.

  Now he was paying the price. He wanted his reports compiled before the Philadelphia came to port, but there were too few typewriters and Dan’s reports were lower priority than the ship’s orders of the day.

  His foot tapped on the deck. Would it be easier to rest in Boston? Jim and Lillian always begged him to join their Sunday afternoon excursions, and now that Tess was away, he could accept more frequently. An excursion appealed to him more than lounging in bachelor officers’ quarters. Seemed less idle and indulgent.

  “There you are.” Admiral Howard’s voice rumbled behind him. “Another lazy day for Lieutenant Avery?”

  Dan chuckled and faced his mentor. “Waiting for a typewriter.”

  “Reports coming along?” His clear blue eyes narrowed.

  “Yes, sir. They’ll be complete by tomorrow morning.” Even if he had to stay up all night.

  “Any interesting conclusions?”

  “Yes, sir. Two major conclusions. First, what we’re doing now still isn’t enough.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Second, the auxiliary carriers proved themselves. Even with inadequate training, they provided good air cover for the landing forces, and they even sank a sub.”

  “Also agreed.” Howard crossed his arms, resting them on his belly. “Anything else?”

  High on the mast, the Philadelphia’s antennae etched black hash marks on the clouds. “I’ve been thinking. We have problems with communication. Radar is up on the bridge, radio’s on another deck, and sonar’s deep in the hull. We use data from all of them to track enemy vessels and aircraft. It’d be more efficient if they were together. With a plotting table, perhaps.”

  “That’s why you’re my protégé.”

  “Hmm?”

  A grin flashed. “Since the battles of Coral Sea and Midway, the top commanders in the Pacific have been thinking along those lines. The Combat Information Center, they’re dubbing it.”

  “Yes.” The idea picked up momentum. “Put all the equipment together, all the specialists, get them talking to each other—”

  “That’s why you’re going places, young man. You note problems, analyze them, and envision solutions.”

  “Going places, eh?” Hope and purpose swelled inside. “After a brief sojourn in Boston.”

  14

  Boston

  That evening after Tess and Nora dropped off their belongings at their quarters, Tess took her new friend to her old apartment in Charlestown.

  “I can’t wait to surprise my friends,” Tess whispered as she climbed the familiar granite steps. “I know you’ll love them.”

  “I’m sure I will.” But Nora’s forehead furrowed.

  “They’ll adore you. How could they not?” Tess winked at her, then rang the doorbell. How strange to ring the bell for the apartment that had been her home for a year.

  Mary opened the door and squealed. “Quin—”

  “Tess.”

  “Ah!” Mary dissolved in laughter and pulled Tess into a tight hug. “I’m happy to see you.”

  Tess squeezed her back, reveling in the sound of her best friend’s voice.

  Lillian dashed out of the kitchen. “Tess! What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to talk to an officer in the US Navy?” She twirled in her navy-blue overcoat and officer’s cover.

  “You look wonderful.” Mary’s smile shifted to Nora.

  Tess grabbed her arm and dragged her over the threshold. “This is my dear friend, Nora—Ensign Nora Thurmond. She’s assigned to the Boston Navy Yard.”

  Mary shook her hand. “I’m Mary Stirling. Tess has told us wonderful things about you.”

  “I’m Lillian Avery.” Lillian shook her hand too.

  Tess shut the door. “Nora, Lillian’s the one I was telling you about—the pharmacist. Nora’s an engineer.”

  Lillian grinned. “A fellow stranger in a man’s world.”

  “Mm-hmm. The WAVES has been a bit of a shock. So many women.”

  “You poor thing.”

  The ladies laughed as they settled into chairs and the couch. Tess raised her shoulders in glee. She knew Nora would fit in.

  “Do I hear my Quintessa’s voice?” Yvette stepped out of their old room.

  “Nope,” Tess called out. “You heard Tess’s voice.”

  “What are you doing here?” Yvette strolled
over with a brilliant smile. “I thought you’d left us forever.”

  Tess stood and hugged her. “I’m assigned to the Boston Navy Yard.”

  All three of her former roommates squealed as one.

  “You are?”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

  “We’ll have to go out this weekend to celebrate,” Mary said. “You’ll join us, Nora, won’t you?”

  “She will,” Tess said. “She has no choice.”

  “I have no choice.” Nora let out a long-suffering sigh.

  “How fun.” Lillian clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Arch wanted to go out this weekend since Jim’s back in town.”

  “Arch is Lillian’s boyfriend,” Mary told Nora. “And Jim is my boyfriend and Lillian’s brother.”

  “Oh.” Nora shot Tess a questioning look.

  “Too bad Dan is still at sea—my oldest brother,” Lillian said. “But we’d have to twist his arm into a double knot to make him go anyway.”

  Another questioning look, and Tess gave the shortest nod in reply. Yes, that brother.

  Yvette squeezed onto the couch and tilted her head at Tess. “Since you’re back in Boston, perhaps you can come to our meetings. Things have been tense. Everyone suspects everyone else. You have good insight, and you might see things I miss.”

  “I’d love to go.” So many questions bubbled inside.

  “And you’re just in time for Thanksgiving,” Lillian said. “We’re making apple-cranberry pie tonight, and you two can help. We saved up sugar from our rations this month.”

  Nora looked both bewildered and pleased. “That sounds fun.”

  “It does.” Even though Tess had to work with Dan, returning to Boston brought benefits—old friends, new friends, and a mystery to solve.

  Wednesday, November 25, 1943

  The following evening, Tess opened the door to Robillard’s Bakery and drank in the delightful scent of almond.

  “Oh! Ma petite Quintessa.” Behind the counter, Celeste Robillard threw up her hands. “You are here!”

  Tess knew better than to correct her elders. “The Navy assigned me to Boston. I’m so glad to be back.”