“Two good officers,” the Skipper said. “I wish I could get out on patrol again and take along a couple of new young men like that.” “I’d go anywhere with them myself,” said Sutherland. “Why do we have to be so old, Skipper?” “Didn’t you have enough action in the last war?” the Captain asked. “No, sir, and neither did you!” “Well, men like Anson and Bigelow will have to do it for us this time, I guess,” the Captain said. “And I suppose we’re doing an important job if we help at all to make them such good pigboat officers.” “They’re ready to be assigned now, don’t you think?” Sutherland asked. “Yes, without a doubt. They can’t learn any more except through actual experience. They might as well start getting it right away.” March and Stan felt sure that their training was coming to an end. So far as classes were concerned, they knew that they had covered just about all the work that the school had to give them. They had studied so hard that they felt mentally exhausted. “I don’t think I could cram one more fact into my head,” Stan said. “It’s going to take some time for the facts I’ve been putting in there to assemble themselves and settle down in some orderly fashion.” “We’ll be leaving before long,” March said. “But there’s one thing I want to do before I leave. I want to see Winnie and Minnie.” “Oh—in the escape tower?” Stan exclaimed. “Of course—we’ve never made the hundred-foot escape.” “We don’t have to, but just about everybody does,” March said. “Want to do it with me tomorrow?” “Sure, if there’s a group going through,” Stan agreed. “By the way, what happened to that fellow Cobden who flubbed the fifty-foot escape?” “He made it,” March said. “And he’s already done the hundred-footer, too. The psychiatrist found out what was bothering him. When he was just a kid he was swimming with a gang and one of ’em ducked him and held his head under water a bit too long. He got some water in his lungs, passed out, but they revived him. He’d forgotten all about it, really—except underneath, of course. He said that later when he made up his mind to learn how to swim well, it took a lot of grit to make himself do it. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but he had the guts to fight it out and really learn how to swim. Never did any diving, though—didn’t like being completely under water.” “And after all these years that old experience pops up!” Stan exclaimed. “It just goes to prove that all these tests are so sensible!” March said. “What if he hadn’t found that out until he got in a sub on duty somewhere? His going to pieces then might have wrecked it, or caused plenty of trouble.” “He’s all over it now?” Stan asked. “Sure,” March said. “As soon as the doc got the story out of him and explained it, Cobden just laughed and said he felt foolish. Went right over to the fifty-foot level and did the escape. He even joked with the Chief and said that he shouldn’t hold his head under water—it might make a neurotic out of him.”