McFee spoke up. “I think we will, Larry.”
They talked for two hours more before going to bed. Gray told them that the rest of the crew would report the next morning before eight, and that they’d get under way by noon.
March slept the sleep of the good and the happy, dreaming only of navigating Kamongo right into the Japanese emperor’s back yard, in which he proceeded to sink the entire Japanese Imperial Navy.
The next morning the officers had breakfast together, except for Corvin, who had stood watch in the early morning hours and so was sleeping. They all went into the control room then, where March was startled to see a familiar face.
“Scott!” he cried.
“Yes, sir!” cried the radioman with a wide smile. “I’m certainly happy to see you, sir!” And then he saw Stan behind March. “And you, too, Lieutenant Bigelow!”
“You notice things pretty quickly, don’t you, Scotty?” Stan laughed.
“You’ve got to, sir, if you’re in submarines!”
“Did you know you’d be assigned here, Scott?” March asked.
“Not when you left, sir,” Scott replied. “And then I didn’t know where you’d been assigned. We’re all here, you know—the whole diving section that worked together at New London—Cobden, and Sallini, and all of us.”