Charles Taylor - Show of Force

I wonder what great events we have accomplished today, he thought. With the wrecks we will sink, Alex and I have lost eight ships and seven more are damaged. Both of us will probably sink the wrecks. He sighed audibly. And we've lost a lot of men. He hoped that Dailey would find some way to reestablish communications, since he did not like the thought of placing more of his ships in battle without the understanding of Washington. He would maintain his present position until he knew what Alex was doing. It would give him time to reprovision.

DEAREST MARIA,

There's a flight taking off Nimitz shortly for land, I'm told, and I wanted to make sure this letter was on it. I've been very, very busy the last few weeks, and my letter writing has suffered a great deal. As a matter of fact, before I forget it, please tell the kids that the next plane that leaves after this one will have a letter for each of them.

You know me well enough by now to know that I'm not a worrier. But I've decided that when I get back home we're going to have a good, long vacation and I'm going to think about retiring. I never thought I'd be CNO anyway, and now I don't think I'd want it if Sam said it could be mine for the asking someday. What I guess I really want is two vacations, one for you and me so we can get to know each other again after all this sea duty, and then one with the kids so they know they really have a father. I'm sure you will be able to convey to them better than I will how much I miss them, too.

I'm not much of a writer, and never will be, especially letters. You've spent a lifetime, it seems, wondering when I would write the next one, which I would do only if I couldn't phone halfway round the world. Well, I'm no better now than ever. I have been reading back through my log, the one I told you I've been keeping since I was an ensign. There's some good things in it (the writing is awful), and I think part of what I've written over the years has affected what I'm doing now, enough so that I may want to retire and apply it outside the military. I want so much to tell you everything I have inside me right now, but I'd have trouble writing it, and I do have to go.

You know how you and the children are in my thoughts all of the time and how much you all have my love, David

MY DEAREST ALEX,

Your father didn't want me to write you today, but I wanted to more than ever after talking with him. Maybe in my old age I'm getting more able to stand up to him. Please don't take me wrong. I love him almost like my own father, and you know that even fifteen years ago I didn't think I'd ever be able to say that.

But the reason I'm writing is more important. I wanted to tell you how much I do love you. I know you'll say I never have to do that, just like you always say whenever you come home from sea. But I know something is desperately wrong wherever you are, and sometimes it's just nice to know someone far away is thinking about you and needs you. I told your father that, after he wouldn't tell me where you were (he said he really didn't know, but he can't fool me anymore) and he said you learned how to be alone a long time ago. Perhaps learning how to be alone is the first step in learning how to love someone. I was going to tell him that, but then I decided he wouldn't understand. You know what I mean.

I planned to have your son write you also, but he went out in the fields to hunt this afternoon. Yes, that's right. He's home from his naval school. I don't know why, but your father (he brought him) said he was doing very well but studying too hard, so he thought a few days at the dacha would do him well. After Pietr comes in from hunting, I'll try to have him write you. Maybe he'll even bring back some birds for dinner, if the snow's not too deep for him to move around out there.

And now for the exciting news! I received a letter from Maria Charles yesterday. Apparently David is also at sea, and she has decided that we should all plan to get together next summer. In London! Isn't that wonderful? She said that all of us could afford a trip like that since you're both admirals now, and she said you both have such fine contacts (your father and his Mr. Carter) that we shouldn't have any trouble getting permission if we ask soon enough. Maria said maybe it would improve the spirit of detente, since it's been dragging a bit lately, if everybody knew we were going to get together. Do you think if I ask your father now he might see if he could arrange to let us leave the country and go to London for a week without having to take one of those horrible tours with the Intourist people? And she and I both agree it would be good for the two of you to get away for awhile. She said David's responsibilities are wearing him down, and I couldn't, agree more as far as you're concerned. I know I shouldn't worry about you, like your father says, but each time you go to sea I worry a little bit more.

If you're not going to be home to celebrate the New Year, then I've asked your father if he can arrange to let me go back to my village in Finland for a good, old-fashioned Christmas. I miss that holiday so much, and he claims he understands. He said he was very busy the last few days and didn't know how much longer he'd be tied up, but he said he'd try to make arrangements as soon as he had time, because he thought you might be away.

There's so much more I want to say in this letter, but I don't know how many other people might read it before you do. But I don't care how many people know how much I love you and miss you, as long as you know it. I hope this letter might find you safe and on your way home.

With my deepest love, Tasha

Not knowing quite what to say, the staff communications officer simply listened to the tirade.

"I don't give a shit if you have to tie a long string between two tin cans. We had to talk to Admiral Collier a couple of hours ago!" Sam Carter rarely gave visible signs of losing his temper, but this time there was no doubt about it.

"Sam, we've got to give these boys time. They can't just send up satellites on demand."

"Sorry, Mr. Secretary," Carter nodded his head, grimacing. "It's just that we're losing ships and men, and our strategy's shot to hell if Collier can't lay it on the line to the Kremlin." He looked at the Secretary of State for some support. "We can't afford to lose this one or we might as well pack our tents."

"First of all, Sam, enough of the formalities. It looks like we're going to spend some time together on this. I'd sure appreciate it if you'd start calling me Tom." The older man had grown quite fond of the naval officer in front of him in a very short time. Unlike so many of the others, this one didn't mind making his own decisions. He was no politician, probably the reason he'd never be CNO. "That's what my close friends have all used, and I hope you and I will remain friends long after this is over."

"Yes, sir," replied Carter automatically after so many years of dealing with superiors.

"Tom," the Secretary corrected.

"Right." Carter smiled, still not quite able to use the man's first name. He would next time. He liked Jasperson also. The Secretary of State had been introduced to him a number of times since he had begun working under the Chief of Naval Operations, and he had known for quite some time why those in the know referred to this senior statesman as the "closet president" whenever things got tough. Jasperson was always there when experience was needed and a decision maker was required. He rarely attracted the headlines nor did he like publicity, but he wanted to ensure that his President mouthed the right decisions. Thomas Jasperson looked very much like the paintings of the man many compared him to — Thomas Jefferson. Jasperson was a scholar, a statesman, a framer of treaties, a painter in his own right, and an author. Now he was a military strategist since he had a real one to work with.