The settings were called back to him, and he called, without a moment’s hesitation—“Fire one! Fire two!” He waited a moment, glancing at his watch. “Fire three! Fire four!” Stepping away from the eyepiece he called, “Down periscope!” and followed it immediately with “Reverse motors!” As the whine of the motors started and the boat slid backwards in the water, he kept his eyes on his watch, finger in the air as if counting. He lifted his eyes and—thud! The submarine trembled and shook from the explosion of a torpedo against the side of a ship. There was a wild cry throughout the pigboat as the crew whooped with glee, so loud that it almost drowned out the roar of the second torpedo hitting home against the tanker. Men danced and jigged, but not for a moment did they take their hands from their levers or wheels, or their eyes from the dials they watched. “You can turn now, Skipper,” March said quietly, and Larry gave the order for the ship to turn and dive deep as it cleared the reefs. The words were not out of his mouth when another roar sent a tremble through the submarine and another shout arose. It was a short roar because the men stopped to listen for the second torpedo that had been sent against the troopship. But nothing came, and it was Larry who broke the silence. “A miss, men,” he said. “Only one got through.” “Well, what can you expect?” Scotty demanded. “After all, the position we were in!” “Are still in!” Larry exclaimed. “Only a hundred feet! Take her to two-fifty!” Everybody adjusted his body to the slope of the boat as it slid rapidly down in the water. In a few minutes, they knew, depth charges would be dropped in an attempt to locate them. Certainly planes would be in the air and perhaps fast small boats something like our own PT-boats would be dashing out of the harbor after them. Larry grabbed the phone from the interphone orderly and spoke into it. “You heard the blasts,” he said, knowing that men all over the boat would hear him. “Two into a Jap tanker. One into a troopship. Second one there was a dud. You can expect some depth charges, but I think we’ll be down away from them. Later we’ll go up for a look and I’ll tell you what we did.” March knew that all the men appreciated that. They were tense and excited and they wanted to know exactly what was going on. Their Skipper didn’t keep them waiting long. They were part of this just as much as he was. They leveled off at two hundred and fifty feet just as they felt the first bumping rattle of a depth charge explosion. But it was far away and hardly bothered them. In two minutes another came a little closer. Everyone gripped the nearest solid support and held on. March said to himself, “You’re going through a depth bombing. This was the one thing they couldn’t simulate at New London. Well, how do you like it?” And he answered himself, “It’s not so bad.”