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“The Air Corps wants to be its own branch of service, Enoch,” the DCNO said. “And sooner or later, it will be. When that happens, I don’t want the Air Corps saying, ‘You might as well give us naval bombardment aviation, too. They have proved that they can’t handle it. Remember when we had to come in and take out the German submarine pens for them?’”

“I take your point, sir,” Hawley said.

“You can’t blame a man for honestly speaking his mind, but I was pretty uncomfortable sitting there and hearing a man in the uniform of a Navy captain assuring me that now that the OSS had the responsibility, a handful of civilians in uniform was going to do something the Navy couldn’t.”

He paused and shook his head, as if the memory was painful.

“I said something else I shouldn’t have said,” he went on. “I made a smart-ass remark. An unfair and smart-ass remark. I said that I just had a hard time believing that Donovan’s Dilettantes were going to be able to do something the Navy couldn’t. Whereupon the Commandant of the Marines, that disloyal sonofabitch, joined the opposition.”

“Sir?”

“He said,‘What the hell, Jake, they stole a battleship. If all else fails, they can steal the Kraut submarines.’ Which of course got a big laugh. And then the Chairman asked if we could move on to something else. And then I got control of my runaway mouth and said that all

I was trying to do was offer the Navy’s cooperation to the OSS in any way possible to solve the problem. Then the Chairman indulged me. He said that he certainly appreciated the offer of cooperation and suggested that I get together with Captain Douglass after the meeting adjourned.

“Douglass told me, of course, that he would welcome any help the Navy could give the project. And he went on to say that there’s still one Navy officer on the project, a lieutenant named Kennedy. His ‘action officer,’ this man Canidy, is also a former naval officer. He’s no dummy—Douglass, I mean—and I think he understands my concern. He said he would have a word with Canidy and that there would be no objection if we beefed up our liaison staff with the project.”

“I see,” Admiral Hawley said.

“So I came to see you with two questions in my mind, Enoch,”the DCNO said. “First, I wanted the name of an officer of suitable rank and experience we can send over there to represent the Navy’s interests, and second, in the profound hope that you could disabuse me of the notion that there is no aircraft in the Navy inventory that can do what has to be done.”

“The bad news first, Admiral,” Admiral Hawley said. “The problem is the weight of explosive throw. The submarine pens have been carved out of rock and then reinforced with concrete. It’s going to take tons of explosive, very precisely placed, to cause any real damage. Skip bombing has been tried, and it failed. Torpedoes you know about. If the pens could be taken out with bombs, it would have to be a bigger bomb than anything now available. A bomb far too large to be carried in any Navy aircraft. I think this flying bomb concept, turning a B-17 into an explosive-filled drone, is going to be the only answer.”

“Someone has to pilot the drone from the control aircraft,” the DCNO said thoughtfully. “There’s no reason he cannot be a naval officer.” He looked at Bitter:“Are you on flying status, Commander?”

“No, sir,” Bitter said.

“Medically grounded? Because of your knee?” the DCNO asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“There are such things as medical waivers,” the DCNO said. “Is there any reason you can see, Commander, why you could not control a drone from an aircraft piloted by this Lieutenant Kennedy?”

“No, sir,” Ed Bitter said.

“Did I detect a moment’s hesitation, Commander?” the DCNO asked.

“Sir,” Bitter said. “The question would be whether I would be permitted to do so.”

“Captain Douglass has said he will have a word with your friend Canidy,” the DCNO said.

“Major Canidy is sometimes difficult, sir,” Bitter said.

“Christ, Commander, he’s a major. Majors, even Army Air Corps majors, do what they’re told.”

“Sir,” Bitter said. “The thing is, he’s not really a major. He’s really OSS and wears a major’s uniform because it permits him a certain freedom of movement. I doubt if Captain Douglass would order him to let me fly the drone. Or if he did, that Canidy would accept the order if he didn’t think it was the thing to do.”

“Hmmph,” the DCNO snorted. “Well, let me put it this way, Commander. When those submarine pens are taken out, I want them taken out by naval officers. Preferably by Navy officers in Navy aircraft. But in any event by Navy officers. How you arrange that, I leave up to you. If necessary, start singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and ‘Anchors Aweigh.’ Do I make my point?”

“Yes, sir,” Bitter said. “I’ll do my best, sir. I’m grateful for the chance.”

“How soon can you leave for England?” the DCNO asked.

“Immediately, sir,” Bitter said.

The DCNO sat for a moment tapping the balls of his fingers together.

“I think the way to handle this, Enoch,” he said, “is to put the Commander on temporary duty. That way, if it becomes necessary, he can hoist your flag. And you can approve his application for waiver of physical condition and get him back on flight status.”