Lennox had just lit a cigar when the Admiral’s aide came for him.
“I wondered what had happened to you,” the aide said.
“I was about to come looking for you, Commander,” Lennox said.
“I’ve got to think about getting back to Pearl.”
“We’ll get you back to the Drum,” the aide said.
“But right now, will you come with me, please?”
“Where are we going?”
The aide did not reply. Lennox followed him around the pool, then through a long, high-ceilinged living room, and then down a corridor. The aide stopped before a door and knocked.
“Come!” a male voice said.
It was a den, a private office.
Inside were CINCPAC, COMSUBFORPAC, CINCPAC’s aide, a very good-looking young woman, an Air Corps captain, and movie star Greg Hammer in the uniform of a first lieutenant of the Army’s Signal Corps.
Lennox was a little embarrassed about what he had imagined when he saw Hammer floating around in the pool. He was clearly not a draft dodger. But not too embarrassed. He’d heard about Hollywood movie stars going into the services.
There was a Marine aviation squadron with Macdonald Carey and Tyrone Power in it, conveniently stationed in Diego, where they had rented a hotel so they wouldn’t be forced to put up with the discomfits of a BOQ. dark Gable had been commissioned a lieutenant in the Air Corps. Ronald Reagan was making training films in Hollywood as a first lieutenant. It was therefore not surprising to find Greg Hammer in an officer’s uniform.
“Miss Chenowith,” CINCPAC said, “may I present Commander Lennox, captain of the Drum?”
Cynthia Chenowith gave him her hand and said she was glad to meet him.
Her hand was the first female hand Lennox had touched in a year, and it was warm and soft, and he unkindly wondered who was privileged to jump Miss Chenowith.
“Miss Chenowith is connected with Continental Studios,” CINCPAC said.
“And I’m sure you recognize Lieutenant Greg Hammer?”
“Yes, of course,” Lennox said, shaking the movie star’s hand.
“And this is Captain Whittaker, of the Air Corps,” CINCPAC said.
“How are you. Commander?” Whittaker said, and gave Lennox his hand.
Lennox couldn’t remember having seen Whittaker in a movie, but then he had never paid all that much attention to Hollywood pretty boys. At least Whittaker had gone to flight school; there were aviator’s wings, if no ribbons, on his blouse.
“You may have wondered, Commander,” CINCPAC said, making his little joke, “why I have called this meeting.”
Lennox laughed, dutifully.
“Yes, Sir,” he said, “I have.”
“Continental Studios,” CINCPAC said, “has decided to make a motion picture documentary of a submarine patrol. The Navy has promised its full cooperation, and, after consulting with Admiral Keene, I have selected the Drum to participate.”
“I don’t quite understand, Sir,” Lennox said. He didn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
“Captain Whittaker and Lieutenant Hammer will be sailing with you, Lennox.
Plus a Navy enlisted photographer’s assistant.”
“On patrol, Sir?” Lennox asked, incredulously.
“As I understand the way it will work,” CINCPAC said, “Greg Hammer will serve as narrator, Captain Whittaker will function as director producer and the white hat will operate the camera.”
If you open your mouth and say one word, Lennox, it will run away with you and you will tell CINCPAC, COMSUBFORPAC, and the pretty lady with the gorgeous breasts precisely what you think of the dumbest fucking idea you have ever heard of.
“Yes, Sir,” Commander Lennox said.
And then, in desperation, he thought of something that just might keep them from putting this idiotic idea into practice.
“I presume that you gentlemen and the sailor have gone through the school at New London?
“Lennox asked.
“No,” Captain Whittaker said.
“We thought about it, but we couldn’t find time in the schedule.”
“Sir, may I respectfully suggest that poses a pretty severe problem?”
Lennox said.
“We have no way of knowing if these gentlemen can take the atmospheric pressures of the boat.”
“We checked with the fleet surgeon about that, Lennox,” COMSUBFORPAC said.
“He feels that, after examining their last physical examinations, there is no reason they will have trouble.”
“Sir, may I suggest there are psychological considerations as well? There is the question of confinement, claustrophobia…”