Command, p.16
Command, page 16
“You shouldn’t have done it, you know,” he said. “Thomas and Beveridge—Greyhound and Griffin—want your guts for a necktie.” He chuckled. “Your first command … spring on us from twelve-thousand miles away … one cruiser, one destroyer in your first stoush. Those two? Nothing. Hardly fired an angry shot. Didn’t have time.”
“I seem to remember you helped out a bit, sir,” Bentley said politely.
“I’m an old hand at this. Expected to sink the whole ruddy lot. But you …”
He took a deep swallow of his cold beer, and chuckled again. Bentley could hardly see his eyes.
“M’mm. They’re so stricken about you hogging the show they want to meet you. Tonight, party, Greyhound. Old Thomas reckons as he lit up the line for you, and got damn-all else out of it he might as well be the complete mug and throw the party.” He twisted in his chair. “You, too, Number One?”
“Love to, sir,” Randall murmured, and meant it.
He glanced at Bentley, who had his eyes and attention respectfully on their visitor. Randall remembered the dragging weeks of toil which had culminated in Wind Rode’s contribution to the night’s devilry, and he wanted to witness his friend’s little triumph aboard the seasoned British ship.
“Right, then.” Bromage levered himself up. “Like to stay, but I’d better keep some stowage for Thomas’s grog. About sixish.”
He was almost at the door, with Bentley following, when he stopped. He fumbled in his shirt pocket and brought out a folded sheet of signal paper.
“Nearly forgot this. Brought it over. Thought it might interest you.”
Bentley took the signal. He opened it, smoothed it out, and read. It was addressed to the Senior Officer, 10th Destroyer Flotilla, and came from the Commander-in-Chief. The message said nice things about Bromage’s fighting of his small force in the face of superior enemy odds, and ended with these words:
“You are directed to convey my appreciation to the commanding-officer of H.M.A.S. Wind Rode
for the way in which he handled the ship under his command.”
“Nice, eh?” Bromage chuckled. “You can keep that. The old boy doesn’t hand ’em out very often. But I wouldn’t flaunt it around tonight.”
His throaty laugh floated down to Bentley as he followed him up the ladder.
About the Author
JAMES EDMOND MACDONNELL was born in 1917 in Mackay, Queensland and became one of Australia’s most prolific writers. As a boy, he became determined to go to sea and read every seafaring book he could find. At age 13, while his family was still asleep, he took his brother’s bike and rode eighty miles from his home town to Brisbane in an attempt to see ships and the sea. Fortunately, he was found and returned to his family. He attended the Toowoomba Grammar School from 1931 to 1932. He served in the Royal Australian Navy for fourteen years, joining at age 17, advancing through all lower deck ranks and reaching the rank of commissioned gunnery officer. He began writing books while still in active service.
Macdonnell wrote stories for The Bulletin under the pseudonym “Macnell” and from 1948 to 1956 he was a member of The Bulletin staff. His first book, Fleet Destroyer – a collection of stories about life on the small ships – was published by The Book Depot, Melbourne, in 1945. Macdonnell began writing full-time for Horwitz in 1956, writing an average of a dozen books a year.
After leaving the navy, Macdonnell lived in St. Ives, Sydney and pursued his writing career. In 1988, he retired to Buderim on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland. He died peacefully in his sleep at a Buderim hospital in 2002. He is survived by his children Beth, Jane and Peter.
Macdonnell’s naval stories feature several recurring characters – Captain “Dutchy” Holland, D.S.O., Captain Peter Bentley, V.C., Captain Bruce Sainsbury, V.C., Jim Brady, and Lieutenant Commander Robert Randall.
The Naval War Series by J E Macdonnell
Standby to Ram
Target Unidentified
Battle Ensign
Enemy in Sight
Command
… and more to come every month!
Notes
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See Enemy in Sight
J.E. Macdonnell, Command
