The Lonely War by Alan Chin Read Free Book Online

that too. I’m sorry about the lemons. I thought the officers would prefer something cold rather than hot coffee. And about the fish heads?” Andrew grinned. “Mister Cocoa is fixing something for dinner he calls chitterlings. It’s a stretch for me to believe that the crew would eat a hog’s ass but not a fish’s head, but maybe that’s my upbringing.”
    Each officer tried and failed to suppress a smile. Mitchell said, “I’ll gather the crew and have a heart-to-heart with them about being more accepting.”
    “Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” Cocoa said. “You can talk from now until the time I get religion and the men ain’t going to accept him. They got an ugly resentment that’s running bone-deep.”
    Mitchell glanced at Andrew. “I’m afraid the crew’s refusal to eat your cooking leaves us in a bind. I’ll have to restrict you to kitchen cleanup.”
    Cocoa’s sudden smile showed a full set of dingy teeth.
    “Sir,” Andrew said, “I believe it was Voltaire who said: We should be tolerant of everything but intolerance. ”
    All the officers were clearly stupefied, having never before heard an enlisted man quote a philosopher.
    Andrew swallowed hard. “I have a suggestion, sir. Let me cook for the officers. If you accept me, perhaps the crew will follow in time. I can cook French, Chinese, Siamese, and Japanese cuisine. And if it’s for only five officers, I can make every meal special.”
    Mitchell studied his hands on the table, considering Andrew’s proposal.
    Andrew’s voice became raw. “He doesn’t even wash his hands after using the head. I do.”
    Tedder swallowed loudly and dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.
    Mitchell shook his head, but before he could say anything, Captain Bitton interrupted.
    “A splendid idea. We’ll put him in charge of the officer’s mess on a trial basis. But I won’t have Japanese food served aboard this ship—anything but Japanese.”
    Mitchell was stunned.  Personnel issues were the executive officer’s responsibility, and Bitton never interfered with letting his subordinates manage their own affairs. It was unheard of for him to step in and overrule a junior officer in front of a crewmember.
    “One more thing, sir,” Andrew said. “To cook Asian food, which is what I do best, I’ll need supplies from the Chinese merchants on the island.”
    The captain nodded. “Cocoa, requisition whatever he needs. You men are dismissed.”
    Cocoa and Andrew disappeared down the passageway as Bitton laced his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. He leaned toward Mitchell.
    “Nathan, you should have seen that coming. Now the crew is affected. You’re obviously too wrapped up with repairs to pay due attention to personnel issues. Let this be a wake-up call for us all. We are a fighting ship at war, gentlemen. If the crew is defective, the ship is defective.” Bitton paused before adding, “If there are weaknesses aboard this ship, we have to weed them out and correct them. Our lives depend on us honing these men into a cohesive fighting machine.”
    Mitchell felt the pressure of his palms on his clipboard. A stray nerve kept pulsing in his neck, reaching up to spread across his skull. He wanted to defend himself, but he could only manage to nod in agreement.
    “What about the other new men,” Bitton asked, “any problems there?”
    “They dumped a troublemaker on us named Hudson, machinist-mate with a chip on his shoulder. He needs a kick in the pants and I intend to give it to him the next time he steps out of line. The other two should fit in fine.”
    “Any other surprises with this Chinaman?”
    “Well, Skipper, he’s half Chinese and was raised by monks in Indochina. He speaks several languages, including Japanese, and he’s a Buddhist.”
    The captain’s eyebrows rose and he sat silent for half a minute before turning to Chaplain Moyer. “Well, Otis, looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you with this kid.”

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