Chapter 11

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1941

8:16 A.M.

“No!” cried Joe as Danny pulled him away. His feet splashed in the water on the floor as he tried to get back to the door, but it was no use.

“We’ve got to get to those pumps, Joe,” said Danny. “She’ll be fine on her own. There’s no time to waste.”

“Get off of me!” yelled Joe. He turned his anger on Danny and began swatting at the hand that held onto his shirt and dragged him away from Skipper. “We can’t just leave her! She needs me!”

Danny held Joe steady and looked into his eyes. “Look, Joe, Skipper is a smart dog, right?” he said. “She lived on the street for years. She’ll be fine on her own, like she was before you found her. And if this ship capsizes, she’s in just as much trouble as we are.”

Through the fear and anger, Joe heard the reason behind Danny’s words. Skipper was tough—she could make it on her own.

Maybe, Joe thought, he wasn’t scared of her being alone, but of having to go it alone himself. He had to prove that he could be brave—for Pop, for Skipper, but most of all for himself. He clamped his mouth shut and ran with Danny and the rest of the crew.

Making their way to the valves was especially difficult with the way the ship was leaning and the water that welled up around their ankles. Pretty soon, Joe’s ankles and calves burned with the effort of a steady uphill climb.

All around them, Joe heard the muffled sounds of battle through the walls: the chug of machine gun fire, the whoop of the air-raid siren, the occasional scream. Behind all of this was the rush of water and the loud, metallic groaning of the West Virginia.

Joe wondered what the attack meant. Up until now, the war had been something scary outside America. Pop talked about getting into the war, but Mama had mentioned that she heard newscasters on the radio saying it would never happen. Hitler and his allies in Italy and Japan would never think to attack America or any of its territories. What was going to happen now? Did this mean they were at war?

They turned a corner and nearly ran into an officer making his way down the corridor. When the man turned around, Joe saw that it was Lieutenant Commander Harper, the cigar-chewing officer who had led them to Captain Bennion!

Harper was propping himself up against an iron hold in the wall. His face was pale and beaded with sweat. Joe noticed the dark-red stain on the right shoulder of his uniform and could see that he was struggling to stay standing. He must have gotten injured in the attack.

“Commander Harper,” said Danny, going to the man’s side and putting an arm under him to help steady him.

“Cunningham?” said Harper, looking at them in disbelief. “Dean? What the blue blazes are you doing here? All of you boys need to get off this ship now. We could capsize at any moment.”

“We’re going to use the counterflooding valves to keep her upright,” said Danny. The men with them murmured agreement.

Harper shook his head. “I’m heading there now. I’ll take care of that. You boys go.”

“With all due respect, sir,” said Joe, “you’re in no shape to go it alone. Let us help you.”

“Not a chance, Dean,” said Harper. “This is too dangerous for a little kid like you.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” said Joe. The other men laughed, and Harper cracked a grin.

“All right,” said Harper, nodding. “Then let’s go, boys. Up ahead. Get to the valves, and I’ll instruct you from there.” They kept moving, with Joe leading the way and Danny helping Harper along as the older officer shouted directions.

Finally they reached the counterflooding valves, a series of large metal wheels set into a wall made entirely of twisting and curling pipes. There were five in all, and the team of men split up so there were two men on each valve, with Joe and Danny next to each other on the last one.

“On three, you all turn the switches, which will open the sea cocks and let in water,” barked Harper. “Turn them as far as you can, until they won’t turn any farther. Once they’re open, you’ll hear water coming in, which means the compartments are flooding.”

“Then what?” asked Norman.

“Then you run like your life depends on it, son,” said Harper. “Because pretty soon this compartment’s going to be flooded too. As long as you get going the minute we’re done, you should be able to make it out of here.”

The sailors were all silent. Even with the noise of battle around them, the counterflooding compartment felt like a church, huge and solemn.

“Ready?” asked Harper.

“Ready!” cried the men.

“Joe.” Joe looked up to see Danny. He stared straight ahead, as though he were looking past the valves to the water outside. “Whatever happens, you stick with me. Don’t leave my side. Do everything I do. If you can’t see me, I can’t see you. Got it?”

“What if I lose sight of you?” asked Joe.

Danny exhaled hard. “Then you run, Joe,” he said. “Don’t wait for me or search for me. You run as fast as you can, and you get off this ship.” The corners of Danny’s mouth twitched, and he blinked hard and fast. “And you tell Mills to be good for Mom and Dad. You tell her that I love her, and that I always will.”

The last words made Joe sick to his stomach. “Danny . . . ,” he said.

“And . . . TURN!” yelled Commander Harper.

There was no time to say anything else. Joe gritted his teeth and put every muscle in his body into turning the big wheel. At first it resisted, and then with a shriek of metal it began moving. And soon it was spinning so fast that the metal spokes in the wheel became a blur in Joe’s eyes.

Just like that, the wheel came to a stop with a CHUNK noise. Somewhere deep in the ship around them, Joe heard the sound of rushing water. For a split second, he smiled, happy they’d managed to counterflood the ship and keep it from capsizing—

And then he remembered Harper’s words, and he felt a jolt like an electric shock rushing through his legs

“Now MOVE!” yelled Commander Harper. Joe and Danny turned and ran, feeling the older officer’s hand slap their backs as the water began to pour in around them.