Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(18)
“You can say that again. Savoie, and whatever else he has. At least one carrier, with planes as good as ours. If he goes down to join with Esshk and we can’t stop him, he can shred Arracca and Santy Cat—and there won’t be much we can do about it.”
“So you, and Captain Reddy in particular, will deal with him before he can cause more mischief,” Forester predicted.
“That’s the plan. If Walker can be repaired in time, and if we can get our strike team assembled . . .” Alan smiled mirthlessly. “With their four puny tanks.” The tanks had been Alan’s brainchild, and there’d be no more in time. The assembly of representatives had decided to focus resources not already allocated to more shipbuilding. And Alan could understand that. But what happened when they weren’t fighting on the sea anymore?
“And that’s also your chief concern, is it not?” Forester asked gently. “You’re concerned that with Captain Reddy’s wife, Lady Sandra, in his hands, Kurokawa will attempt to use her in some way that will prevent Captain Reddy from doing what he must?”
Alan sadly shook his head. “No, Bolton. I’m sure he’ll do exactly that. And I’m just as sure that nothing’ll keep Captain Reddy from his duty. I’m just worried what that’ll do to him. To all of us.”
Forester coughed, then turned to face the cruiser. “Indeed. Well, perhaps this will help.”
Stokes snorted, and Forester looked at him in surprise. “Oh, we’ll do our damnedest to get her there,” Stokes said, “but it ain’t bloody likely. She’s still a few weeks from her trials. As she sits, she might not even make it there! She’s the most experimental thing we’ve ever done.”
“Yeah,” Alan agreed, his voice grim. “And that’s with shifts going around the clock to finish her.” He shook his head. “All for nothing.”
“What on earth do you mean?” Forester asked, troubled by Alan’s tone.
“He means she’s no match for Savoie,” Stokes replied. “When we laid her down we thought the worst she’d ever face was a Grik dreadnaught or two, or a flock o’ Dom ships o’ the line. She’d serve them up proper without breakin’ a sweat, from farther than they could even hit her. But we never dreamed there was anybody out there like the League; with somethin’ like Savoie they could afford to just give away. What the hell else’ve they got? I’m the sticky beak around here now, an’ I’ll find out,” he said forcefully. “An’ there’s a fair go I will pretty soon,” he added cryptically. Then he waved at the cruiser. “She’s a fine ship, an’ we learned a lot makin’ her, but we’d o’ been better off makin’ four more of those”—he pointed at the DDs—“with the same steel. Now, if we had her to do over again, gave her bigger guns an’ a bit of armor, it might make a difference. As she is, by herself she’s little more use against somethin’ like Savoie than Walker is—except she’s a bigger target.”
Forester blinked. “I fear you may have been overly influenced by recent events and allowed yourselves to grow too gloomy,” he scolded. “Particularly if that ship can do all you say. And it strikes me that unless you want to send her east after all, where she’ll be quite welcome indeed—and all she’ll have to face is a flock of Doms—then the key is not to use her by herself. And, if necessary, let her be a target. I don’t know Captain Reddy as well as either of you, but I know him well enough to be quite certain that’s what he would do.” He looked back at the cruiser. “Whether she’s complete in time to help him against Savoie or not, Captain Reddy will find a most excellent use for . . .” He paused. “What is your naming convention for ships of her type?” he asked at last.
“Cruisers are cities,” Alan replied, his tone now thoughtful as he turned Forester’s words over in his mind. “But a lot of our cities are ‘states’ in the new Union.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “And what about the seagoing Homes? Can’t name a cruiser after them and have two ships with one name! And since so many cities have hosted battles”—the smile turned ironic—“their names usually go to carriers.” He shrugged. “Public sentiment being what it is, though, there was never really any choice. She’s USS Fitzhugh Gray, CL-1.” Alan managed a genuine smile. “The Super Bosun’s probably spinning in his grave, with his name on a cruiser. But at least she’s a light cruiser. Maybe we can get away with classing her as a destroyer leader?” He shook his head. “I guess it doesn’t make any difference.”
“Oh, but it does,” Forester objected, turning to face him. “The name does, at any rate. Can you imagine any member of your Navy Clan who wouldn’t do his or her very best to ensure she’s worthy of that name? I can’t. And I’ll tell you something else: names are important. They mean things. And if any part of Chief Gray’s spirit went into that ship, along with his name, I’m confident she’ll perform with the same resolve and commitment to duty he embodied—and sell her life just as nobly and dearly as he, if the time ever comes.”
Stokes actually chuckled. “I didn’t know Gray well, but who’s gettin’ the ship might make him spin even faster.” He shrugged. “We’ll skipper the new tin cans all right. Plenty of ’Cats have experience in Walker or Mahan. But we’ve damn little choice when it comes to handlin’ large steamers. Most’re goin’ to the new carriers, even the big freighters an’ oilers. An’ Gray needs a skipper with experience handlin’ an’ fightin’ a fast, big ship like she was a destroyer, while rememberin’ she ain’t—an’ we only have one of those just hangin’ around right now.”