felt on edge, unable to concentrate on anything, even the prospect of meeting Sophie again.
It was all so strange and unreal, he thought, after the patrols and bombardments., the wild elation of watching from his position high above the bridge when the main armament had fired on I he enemy.
The wardroom throbbed with music, and was packed from side to side with officers and visitors alike. Like the peacetime navy must have been, he thought, without fear of a sudden air-attack or torpedo.
With the rear-admiral's flag hoisted over the ship everyone had expected things to move swiftly, that the Prinz would head out to sea again.
He recalled seeing the girl pilot as she had climbed down from the catapult. Like most of the company he had read of her exploits, especially the last one when she had flown through enemy flak to lift off an important politician. Stoecker did not really like the idea of women in the firing line, but after meeting Sophie he was not certain of anything. She was not a schoolgirl any more. She was a woman, and had probably seen more results of war than he had.
Now he had two secrets to hold. One was the letter, still unopened. He had nearly destroyed it several times but something made him hold back. The other secret was what Sophie had told him.
She was ordered to a hospital in Norway. Suppose it was where they were based? They would meet again. Like that last time when they had kissed and clutched each other, hearts pounding while they had tasted a new and delicate love.
A curtain swirled back and Leutnant zur See Konrad Jaeger stepped over the coaming. He took a pistol from the rack and clipped it around his waist.
He grimaced as a great burst of laughter came from beyond him.
'Time for rounds, Stoecker. Others have all the luck.'
It would take all of an hour to go round the flats and messes, to check padlocks and magazine and to sign all the log-sheets. By the time they had finished some of the guests would have left.
Stoecker nodded to a boatswain's mate and messenger who were waiting to accompany the young officer on his rounds. There was a faint smell of schnapps in the damp air, and he hoped laeger had not noticed it. He was a good officer, for a one-striper that was. But he'd come down on Stoecker if he found someone had been drinking on watch.
Jaeger was not aware of the acting petty officer's wary glance. He was thinking of the wardroom party, the first one he had ever attended in a real combat warship. The Prinz was famous; you couid see the excitement, even awe, on the faces of the guests, and especially the women. The admiral must have a lot of influence even in that direction, he decided. There were lots of women aboard, and most appeared to be German except for the wives of some local officials.
Preceded by the boatswain's mate, Jaeger and his little party climbed to the cooler air of the quarterdeck, where Korvetten-kapitan Froebe was waiting by the accommodation ladder to welcome guests below the shaded police lights.
It was a rare sight, and Jaeger paused to watch as two women in long, colourful dresses with some officers from the airfield stood by the guardrails, their hair moving in the evening breeze, their eyes exploring the ship.
Jaeger thought of the young girl he had met in the wardroom. It was unlikely he would get a look-in there, he thought. Hampe, the torpedo officer and a well-known womaniser, had been watching them, waiting for rounds to be called. For him to leave.
A figure moved from the shadows and Jaeger called his men to attention.
The captain touched his cap and smiled. 'Hard luck, Jaeger, but rank has its privileges, you see.'
Jaeger grinned. He could recall standing like a ramrod at attention for minutes on end in his last ship, where he had completed his training. That captain had been a tyrant, a bully you would never want to speak to even if it had been allowed.
Hechler was so different. Did he never have any worries or doubts?
Hechler saw the
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