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Bibliography by
sherlockette Thanks to Helen and Diane for
their suggestions As he stood in the doorway waiting for the men who
would pack and remove his belongings, retiring Vice Admiral Harriman
Nelson scanned the room that had been his office for the last several
years. Up until now,
parties, last minute meetings and big plans for the future had allowed
him to avoid any sentimentality over the early end of his full-time
military career. He was caught by surprise when the simple task of
clearing out his office had triggered a sudden melancholy feeling, one
he had not been able to shake. “Harriman Nelson, this is your life!” he
mumbled before letting out a low sigh and snatching the model submarine
from his desk. As he flipped it around his thoughts quickly turned to
the series of events that had led him to leave his position at the
Office of Naval Research. While he could admit some of his ideas were
too far ahead of their time to become reality in his lifetime, he was
absolutely sure his design plans for building a highly advanced research
submarine were sound and constructing it was vital to exploring the
oceans and to the security of the nation. When an aggressive campaign to
cut off all funding for the project and any project with which he was
involved was initiated by a couple of powerful dove senators, he fought
back. Finally, weary of the constant battles against what some were
calling “Nelson’s folly”, he decided to put his energy and his
family fortune to work and build the submarine himself. After setting the model down, Nelson paused and
looked over the bookshelf that covered an entire wall of his office. It
was crammed with works on practically every topic, from astronomy to
zoology, military history to advanced weaponry. There were even a number
of works of fiction. Many of the authors had been men and women of
vision whose ideas had been doubted or ridiculed and many never lived to
see their dreams come to life. Out of the blue Nelson began to tap on
each spine and call out its title, beginning with some of the rarer
works. “Neires
Boreali- Oblivious to anything else around him, he continued
through the stacks, past works on the teachings of Aristotle, Galileo,
Archimedes and Newton, past William Beebe’s Half
Mile Down, Hans Hass’ Men
and Sharks and Jacques Cousteau’s The
Silent World and past Robert
Fulton’s Torpedo War and Submarine Explosions and Roald Amundsen’s
Nordvestpassage.
The roll call proceeded until he reached a small
book with a dark green jacket. With a slow shake of his head he reached
for the copy of Silent Spring
given to him by its late author, Rachel Carson. He had first me the late
scientist-teacher when they had served on a discussion panel dealing
with contamination of the Startled by a hand on his shoulder, Nelson jerked
around and almost collided with Vice Admiral Jiggs Starke, whom he had
known since their Academy days. “Harriman! Harriman you old sea dog,
didn’t you hear me?” “Jiggs, what, what the devil are you doing
here?” Starke looked down at the book in his friend’s
hand. “This is no time for you to catch up on your reading. It’s a
day to celebrate!” Nelson closed the book and slid it into its place.
“No, really, Jiggs.” “Thought I’d pay a visit to my old friend and
buy him a drink.” he growled. The gruff tone belied the friendship
that the two shared and smiles soon spread across both their faces.
“I thought you were off on
some inspection.” “I was, but there are more important things than counting parts. Besides, I have some
news for you.” Still grinning Nelson cocked his head. “Well, go
on.” “I’ve just been appointed COMSUBPAC.” “That’s great news, Jiggs!” declared Nelson
as he reached to shake his friend’s hand. “You certainly deserve it
and I know how much you wanted to get back into subs.” “Thanks, Harriman. It’ll be good, real good. I
should be able to retire from there. Bernadette will appreciate the
warmer weather. Hell, so will these old bones.”
“I understand that. When do you go?” “Report in a month.” “I’ll be sure to pay you two a visit when you
get settled.” “We’re counting on it.” After a few minutes of small talk, an awkward
silence descended over the room. Unsure of what to say to bring his
friend out of the doldrums, Starke walked over to the window and stared
out. When he finally turned back around and observed Nelson silhouetted
against the bookshelf the answer came to him. He scanned the library
until he located a small cloth bound volume which he held it out for his
friend. “Remember this one, Harriman? You always said you got a lot of
your inspiration from it.” Nelson took the book and lowered himself into his
high back leather chair and for a few moments he ran a finger over the
vignette of a large jellyfish on the cover. When he flipped over to the
frontispiece a hint of a smile appeared. “Verne’s
Nautilus. First of its kind. Special. And fictional,
Jiggs,” he added as he tossed the book on the desk. “Just way ahead of its time. Wasn’t it Verne
who wrote ‘Anything one man can imagine other men can make real’?” **** With last of his belongings carried out, Nelson
grabbed his jacket and cover and took one last look around the office.
As he pulled the door closed, he heard the shrill ringing of the
telephone and certain it was someone else offering well wishes, he
hesitated to answer. When it
continued to ring he reentered the room and snatched the receiver.
“Nelson.” “Admiral, I have some important news for you in
regards your little retirement project. It’s a go. Voted on by the
Joint Chiefs. Let me know what else you need.” Nelson couldn’t help but grin at the news, but he
maintained his typical decorum. “That’s good news, sir. Thank you,
Mr. President.” The beginning…
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