“Temperature went down—just about the time you hit that carrier, sir,” he reported. “He’s coming through all right, though they’ll have to take those slugs out of him pretty soon.”
Scoot Appeared in the Doorway
“We’ll get him to a hospital,” March said, and then grabbed the door hard as he heard the click and then the hardest explosion of all.
“They can’t hear anything,” he said to McFee. “Do you suppose they figure we’re lying quiet down here and are going to send them deeper and deeper?”
“Might be,” Mac said. March knew that if such were the case it would be better to try to zigzag away. The next explosion was so close that it knocked over two men in the control room who thought they were holding on fast. The next one knocked out the lights, and March shouted for the emergency system. In a moment there was light again but March was worried, trying to make up his mind what to do. Suddenly he felt that he just could not make any more decisions. He wasn’t supposed to be a submarine Skipper yet, anyway. Why decide?
“Well,” he said to himself, “if the next one’s any closer I’ll try moving away from here.”
He waited tensely. The next explosion would decide the matter for him. He still waited. It didn’t come. He looked at the sound man, puzzled.
“Destroyers moving away, sir,” the sound man reported.
Then they heard another explosion. But this was different. It was near the surface, far away, and it was not like a depth charge. Then came another and another.