Chapter 9

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1941

8:11 A.M.

Danny led them down the corridor and into a room lined with three rows of bunk beds. When they got to his bed, he pulled a bag out from under it and produced a rolled-up tube of paper. He spread it out along the bed, and Joe saw a blueprint of the USS West Virginia, its many decks and passageways carefully labeled.

“We’re taking water on our port side, right?” said Danny, pointing to one side of the ship diagram. “If we don’t stop the water flow, the ship will take on too much water and capsize. We need to stop the flow on the port side by sealing all the waterproof hatches and doors. Then we have to even out the amount of water on the ship by using the counterflooding pumps on the other side to let water in.”

“Let water in?” cried Norman. “You’ll sink this thing!”

“If we don’t, the Wee Vee will flip over,” snapped Danny. “Don’t you know what capsize means? The entire thing’ll go butt-up, and everyone on deck will be pulled down with it. We can’t let that happen.” A murmur moved through the crowd, and Danny cursed and looked at his watch.

“I say we abandon ship,” said one of the other sailors.

“If you want to leave, leave,” snapped Danny. “But we don’t have time to make this a discussion. We have maybe fifteen minutes—”

Another kick and rumble. The ship jumped and rocked under them. Personal items—boots, tin cups, bundles of letters—came spilling to the floor and sliding to the port-side wall.

“Or maybe only ten minutes,” said Danny, a little breathless. “Are you with me or not?”

The men looked at each other, then nodded and called out that they were. Danny scanned them, and then his eyes fell on Joe.

“Joe, you with me?” he said. “We need all the help we can get.”

Joe blinked and breathed hard. He felt swelling in his throat, stinging in his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of these men, but he couldn’t control himself.

He was so scared. He just wanted to be home in bed, or in the kitchen watching Mama put the icing on Pop’s cake, bouncing Baby Kathy on his knee.

“I’m not a sailor,” he croaked out.

Danny knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. The quiver of Danny’s lip and the pale, sunken color of his face told Joe that Danny was scared too.

“I don’t need sailors right now,” said Danny. “I need heroes.”

The words pushed Joe’s fear back down into his stomach and made his heart swell. He thought of Pop, shooting down planes on the deck of a ship. He thought of Skipper, risking her life to pull Joe out of the fire twice in five minutes.

If they could be brave, then so could he.

“I’m in,” said Joe.

Danny smiled. “Great. Skipper, you up for it?”

Skipper barked. Joe and the other sailors laughed, maybe a little nervously.

“All right, boys,” said Danny. “We go down two levels. Then you, you, and you, head port side and seal every hatch and door along the way. We can’t let the water get any farther in. You, you, and you”—Danny pointed at Joe—“come starboard and help me operate the pumps. If the ship starts to go down, you all get up top and jump for it. Ready?”

“Ready!” yelled the men, Joe included.

“Let’s save this ship,” said Danny.

They bolted into the ship, Danny leading the way with his blueprint in his hands. Lights overhead flickered wildly. They jogged down narrow corridors, some filled with smoke, others sparking from light sockets and split panels. As they ran, other sailors came out of their rooms and joined the crew, getting filled in on the plan as they ran.

Joe put his head down and kept one hand on Skipper. He was still terrified, of course. It was scary—the smoke, the fire, the panicked sailors. But being scared wasn’t a good enough reason not to help.

They trundled down two flights of stairs, and Joe felt his feet slap into ankle-deep water. Even though it was the warm Hawaiian Pacific, his feet felt ice cold as it soaked into his shoes. Danny wiped sweat from his eyes as he studied the blueprint, and then he began pointing.

“Port-side team, you’re going that way,” he said, pointing. “Seal all waterproof hatches, as many as you can. Starboard team, this way to the pumps. Let’s move it!”

Danny grabbed Joe’s shoulder and pulled him through a doorway into another compartment.

Joe felt his hand leave Skipper’s coat. He turned just in time to see her looking up at him—before Norman yanked the door shut.

“NO!” Joe screamed, and tried to run back, but Danny was pulling him along.

Skipper was gone!