Michael Wenberg - The Last Eagle

Sieinski held out his hand. “Goodbye, Wictor.”

Sopocko stared at Sieinski’s hand, and then shook his head in refusal. “Not that, I think,” he said softly. “You can still change your mind, you know. You have some good men…. But never fear, I will tell no one. I will die with it this day. Or tomorrow. You never should have taken this command, you know.” And with those last words, he disappeared over edge of the conning tower. A moment later, the M10 moved off into the night.

Sieinski stood there, sick with shame and rage, watching until the vessel disappeared. There was the faint sound of tapping from the gun crew below. He wondered how much they had heard. Probably nothing. No one had heard a thing. Who did he think he was? Talking to him that way. To think that over the years, all those parties, he thought Sopocko a friend. He should have expected as much. Just a motorboat captain. With all his father’s influence, that was the best he could do? There must have been something lacking in his character to warrant a command such as that. Sieinski, on the other hand, was captain of the most deadly boat in the Polish fleet, and not just because of his father’s help.

Sieinski grabbed the side of the conning tower as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. When it was past, he took a deep breath, scanned the sky. Indeed, dawn would not be far off. Soon it would be time to dive for safety. His men wouldn’t like it, but the decision was clear.

And they would obey orders.

He spoke into the speaker tubes. “Lookouts and officers to the bridge.”

Stefan lay on his bunk, eyes closed. He was desperately tired, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the meeting on the bridge. Why the secrecy? What was so important that the second in command of a vessel had to be excluded? Was it something to do with him? Didn’t Sieinski trust him? Even worse, was he planning something that he knew Stefan would not approve of?

Stefan’s thoughts began to take even wild turns. Before they could go far, he growled with frustration, rolled off his bunk, and made his way to the officers’ wardroom. Food and coffee. Since he couldn’t sleep, that’s what he needed.

He found Kate, Reggie, Eryk and Squeaky huddled around the table that dominated the small room. A plate piled with meat, cheese, bread and sliced fruit sat in the center of the table. Everyone had mugs of coffee. Bookshelves were along one wall. A narrow counter along the other. Photographs of Hollywood starlets filled out the rest of the decorations.

“Pull up a chair, commander,” Reggie said cheerfully. “You look like hell.”

Stefan grunted. “Under the circumstances, I’ll take that as a compliment. How go your interviews?” he said to Kate.

“Interesting,” Kate said. “I didn’t realize that your crew was so young. Is that typical?”

Stefan nodded, his mouth already filled with a slice of meat.

Eryk answered for him. “Yes. You’ll find submariners tend to be a young lot. But they’re good boys, smart, quick learners. Navies around the world find that younger men tend to stand up to the rigors of the duty better than older ones.”

“What about him?” Kate said, pointing at Stefan.

“He’s an aberration,” Squeaky said, stifling a laugh.

“Careful with those big words,” Stefan said, eyes glittering. “Might get yourself into trouble.”

“Oh, I think we’re in enough trouble. What do you think about that powwow upstairs?” he asked cautiously.

Stefan didn’t take the bait. He shrugged, reached for a plate of fruit.

“I thought something was different,” Reggie said. “We’re not moving. Oh, I see. You mean, we’ve met another ship?”

Eryk nodded, kept his eyes on the bread in his hand.

Kate noticed the change right away. “Not a happy ship,” she said to herself in English. “Just our luck.”

“What’s that?” Stefan asked.

“I was just wondering if they might like a couple of passengers,” Kate said, slipping easily back into Polish.

Stefan shook his head. “You don’t want to be on that boat.”

“Why, something wrong with the captain?”

Stefan stared hard at her for a moment, Eryk and Squeaky were looking at her, as well, food paused halfway between their mouths and the plate. Stefan’s face reddened and then he exploded with laughter, Eryk and Squeaky joined in.

When they finally quieted down, Stefan wiped his eye and said, “No, nothing wrong with Sopocko. Hell of a man, good captain, too, from all I heard. I suppose you could ask about a ride. But his motorboat is not the place to be.”

Eryk and Squeaky had turned suddenly serious, their faces blank.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you think it will be for them tomorrow? We will spend the day hiding on the bottom, but they have nowhere to go. They can motor close to shore and hope the coastal batteries provide them some protection, but …” He twirled his hand over his head. “Sopocko is no coward. He will not run for cover, he will fight…” He let that hang in the air.

“Oh,” Reggie said. “Good point. Perhaps we won’t changes ships, then. I don’t mind staying on board here for another day or two. Still a few more photographs to take, you know…”

There was a sudden change in the ever present sound and vibrations of the diesel engines.

“Duty calls,” Squeaky said, as the three officers of the Eagle stood.

“You have everything you need?” Stefan said, pausing as the others slipped out into the passageway.

Kate nodded. “Everyone has been gentlemen.”

Stefan acknowledged the complement with a nod. “Let me know if we can do anything else.”

“Why the sudden interest in my well-being, commander?” Kate asked. “I still seem to remember a growl about throwing us overboard if we got in the way.”

Stefan smiled broadly.

“Oh, there is one thing, if I may be so bold to suggest,” Reggie said.

“What’s that?”

“Get us out of here alive.”

Stefan blinked. “I’ll do the best I can,” he said evenly. And then he disappeared.

Eryk was already at work at his chart table as Stefan passed through the control room. He paused long enough to glance over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Plotting our course. The captain wants us to spend the day here.” He stabbed so hard at the chart he broke the tip of his pencil.”

Stefan stared at the mark. “You sure?”

Eryk nodded.

“Where is he?”

Eryk pointed his pencil upward.

“I’m going to my cabin,” Sieinski snapped when Stefan appeared at his side. He pushed shakily away from the rim of the conning tower, and arms extended, shuffled toward the hatch.

“Sir?”

Sieinski paused, swaying back and forth with the movement of the ship. “What is it?”

“It isn’t deep enough.”

“What do you mean.”

“The position you gave Eryk. It isn’t deep enough”

“Are you going to question every one of my orders, commander.”

“No, sir, it’s just…”

“I know the rules and regulations as well as you do commander. Unless you have something else to say, I’ll be in my cabin.”

Stefan bit his lip, drawing the salty taste of blood. “Aye, aye, sir,” he said crisply, saluting. He watched his captain disappear into the bowels of the the Eagle . A moment later, Squeaky clambered up the ladder. He glanced at Stefan’s face and said, “What now?”

Stefan shook his head. Of course, the captain was exactly right. He was following protocol. Stefan, however, had grown up on the Baltic. He knew its moods, its looks, like a farmer can read the clouds over the distant mountains. The summer of 1939 had been unseasonably cold. As a result the waters of the Baltic were now colder, and clearer, than normal. Thirty meters might not be deep enough. That was the worry. Of course, it would require a lucky pass by a Nazi plane to come across their shadow on the bottom, but why risk it? Why not go deeper? That was all Stefan had attempted to point out. But Sieinski was in no mood. What had gone on with Sopocko? Stefan wondered.