“Well,” I went on, “Tommy Tomlinson has left the service, but Put Storrs and Bill Davis are here, and the boys thought you might like to lead them in a Section take-off, and fly ashore with them when you go.” Lindbergh nodded. “I’d like that,” he said simply. “It would make a good story,” I went on. “‘Leader of Three Musketeers takes off with Three Sea Hawks.’” Lindbergh shook his head. “Not interested in the publicity,” he said. And there, thought I, was a key to his conduct. Lindbergh was so honest, intellectually and in every other way, that the antics of publicity seekers revolted him. Newspaper men, having never before encountered a celebrity who was not avid for publicity, could not be expected to understand this. They made—and broke—celebrities at will. They considered that they had made Lindbergh and most now thought him ungrateful. With Admiral Moffett’s reappointment to the Bureau, we became curious as to Admiral Reeves’s new assignment. He had made it a practice never to request duty for himself, and now rather hoped he might get command of the Ninth Naval District, at Great Lakes. But when the news leaked out through the grapevine, it was a dive-bomb hit right amidships. Admiral Reeves was to go to the Navy Yard at Mare Island as Inspector, a job that usually rated a commander or, at most, a captain. The admiral took the news cheerfully as usual. However, this was but a preliminary “strafing attack,” the name the admiral had coined for diving tactics. One day Wagner walked into the admiral’s cabin, his face as long as the _Saratoga’s_ flight deck. Waving a letter in his hand he sank down in his seat at the mess table and announced, with a wry grin, “They’re shanghaiing me to Guam!” At first we thought he was simply using the slang phrase, but it turned out to be literally true. “And as for you,” he added, nodding to me with a sudden grin that always signaled the triumph of his humor, “you’re headed for Coco Solo.” Coco Solo, the big new base on the Atlantic side of the Canal, would have been most acceptable as a command following a full three years’ sea cruise, but I had been but a year afloat and was already on the short side of sea duty. The assignment, had it been carried out, would have been a sentence to oblivion. Admiral Reeves later saw that it wasn’t. For when the new Commander in Chief, Battle Fleet, who relieved Admiral Pratt, proved to be Adm. Louis M. Nulton, a friend of Admiral Reeves, the latter promptly dispatched a letter to Admiral Nulton suggesting that he ask for me as his Aide for Aviation on the Battle Fleet Staff. This assignment put me one notch above the Aircraft Squadrons, whose new commander was announced as Admiral Butler, with Ken Whiting in my job as Chief of Staff. And since Admiral Nulton was known as a man for detail, the Aircraft Squadrons Staff saw that they would need a friend on high if they were to retain the freedom of action Admiral Pratt had always given Admiral Reeves.