The sub commander rolled back onto the cot and was instantly asleep, a muscle twitching the left side of his face every few seconds.
Grinnel drew Orsino to the lee of the conning tower. "We'll let him sleep," he said. "Go tell that gun crew Commander Grinnel says they should lay below."
Orsino did. The petty officer said something exasperated about the gunnery training bill and Orsino repeated his piece. They secured the gun and went below.
Grinnel said, with apparent irrelevance: "You're a rare bird, Wyman. You're capable—and you're uncommitted. Let's go below. Stick with me."
He followed the fat little commander into the conning tower. Grinnel told an officer of some sort: "I'll take the con, mister. Wyman here will take the radar watch." He gave Orsino a look that choked off his protests. Presumably, Grinnel knew that he was ignorant of radar.
The officer, looking baffled, said: "Yes, Commander." A seaman pulled his head out of a face-fitting box and told Wyman: "It's all yours, stranger." Wyman cautiously put his face into the box and was confronted by meaningless blobs of green, numerals in the dark, and a couple of arrows to make confusion complete.
He heard Grinnel say to the helmsman: "Get me a mug of joe, sailor. I'll take the wheel."
"I'll pass the word, sir."
"Nuts you'll pass the word, sailor. Go get the coffee—and I want it now and not when some steward's mate decides he's ready to bring it."