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“But only because Crenshaw ordered you off the Maine?” asked Fletcher.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The admiral’s mouth tightened. “And how does that inform you in this instance?”

  “Sir. I’d have gladly followed Crenshaw into that, even knowing it was to our deaths. We knew at that moment the rest of the squadron needed time to reform against the second Spanish squadron.”

  “Yes. Fighting Bob’s report made that clear.”

  “Well, Admiral, if the Langley had been there with these aircraft, the Maine would have survived.”

  Fletcher glanced at the President and then back at Washington. “And why is that, Commander?”

  “At any given moment we have over twenty BE.2.cs fit to fly. We have over a hundred of the Mark Seven torpedoes in our magazines.”

  “Are you saying they would have sunk the ships in that squadron, Commander? Yes, they were Spanish, but there were two battleships and two armored cruisers in that group.”

  “Probably not, sir, but they didn’t have to sink them. All they’d have had to do was slow them until the rest of the squadron could reform. That, Admiral Fletcher, that we can do. Right now. With the training Lieutenant Commander Ellyson has pounded into them.”

  “Those that have survived, at least,” said the President.

  “Yes, sir.” Washington paused. “Sir, we’ve all heard the nickname. The Langley is ‘Teddy’s Toy’ to every newspaperman.”

  “And congressman.”

  “Yes, sir. But it’s the ‘Covered Wagon’ to us. It’s not been that long since people went west to the frontier in covered wagons and many of them died along the way. We’re taking the navy to a new frontier on this ship. They might scoff at ‘Teddy’s Toy,’ but didn’t they scoff at Jefferson for the Louisiana Purchase?”

  “Out of the mouths of babes,” murmured Roosevelt. “They did, Mr. Washington.”

  Fletcher stared at Washington with narrowed eyes. “Are you willing to risk your career saying that to congressmen, Commander?”

  “I’ve never forgiven Captain Crenshaw for sending me away, Admiral.”

  The commander of the Atlantic Fleet considered that for a long moment. “Very well, Mr. Washington, I’ll take your words into account.”

  The group glanced at the damage.

  “Shall we continue this in my briefing room?” suggested Captain Chambers after a bit.

  “I don’t need to see any more,” said Roosevelt. “Do you, Admiral Fletcher?”

  “No, sir. This confirms what I expected to see.”

  Once in the briefing room, an orderly provided coffee for all the visitors as they settled in.

  Afterward, Roosevelt continued. “This is becoming one hell of a mess, especially if Mr. Washington here is actually prescient.”

  “Sir, the Langley suffered only superficial damage.” Chambers leaned forward. “You saw the initial repairs. We made those before reaching port. If we were in a battle, we could have still launched and landed our aircraft. Now that we’re here at Newport News, the shipwrights say they’ll have her repaired in just a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s not the damn point and you know it.”

  Mayo leaned forward. “Sir, we’ve had far fewer casualties in 1915 than we had in 1914. This was the first fatality since January and that was caused by ice.”

  “I know, I know, but your little mishap here happened the day after the F-4 sank and every congressman is girding up their loins to correct mistakes in previous appropriations bills to ‘protect our valiant young men.’” Roosevelt snorted. “There’s only about two of them that know anything, but they’re about to cut your funding to the bone unless we can do something to prevent it.”

  “What do you have in mind, Mr. President?”

  Roosevelt leaned back. “I hate to say it, Admiral Mayo, but I don’t have any good ideas. I wish we could have used the Langley during the Tampico incident.”

  “That was barely a month after you first visited us. We weren’t ready. It would’ve been worse publicity than you have now,” interjected Chambers. “Far worse.”

  “I know, Captain,” said Roosevelt in a clipped, testy voice. “I was merely thinking that had she been available at that time, you could have proved the Langley’s usefulness once and for all. Non-believers like Admiral Fletcher here might have even been convinced.”

  “Don’t be too sure, Mr. President,” snorted Fletcher. “Many other admirals own positions far more entrenched than mine. I’m much more likely to look favorably on something like this given my time with Ordnance. I often think every officer should spend some time there.”

  “Be that as it may, Admiral, I can’t think of anything we can do now to prove just how valuable the Langley and those who follow her will be.” Roosevelt sighed. “But we have to do something.”

  Mayo considered. “All we’ve done is sail her around Pensacola and up the East Coast to Virginia. We’ve never sent her anywhere else.”

  “Where do you propose to send her?”

  “Mexican Coast?”

  Roosevelt shook his head. “The Mexicans are still angry about the Tampico Affair. I’d rather not press them.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Mayo. “However, I’d rather not send her into the Mediterranean right now. Not with the battle happening at Gallipoli.”

  “The Philippines?” suggested Chambers.

  “That’d be a possibility.” Mayo’s face turned grim. “However, thanks to General Wood, we don’t have a big enough base in Subic Bay to properly support her.”

  “I doubt Admiral Howard would thank you for sending the Langley to the Pacific Fleet anyway,” said Fletcher.

  “Also, I’m not prepared to send the Langley all the way there without at least a torpedo boat squadron to escort her.”

  “I think we can agree we’d want her to have some escorts, wherever we send her.” Fletcher smiled. “But that, at least, is no real problem. The North Carolina was scheduled for a training mission anyway and there are three squadrons of torpedo boats in Hampton Roads waiting for an assignment.” The commander of the Atlantic Fleet thought for a moment. “And if I remember correctly, the Nereus, a collier which would have been a sister of the Langley, and the Culgoa are currently unassigned. That’s sufficient escorts and supplies for a decent cruise.”

  “That’s an idea.” Roosevelt mused. “And I think I can make it better.”

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Mayo.

  “You’ve all heard of Frederick Palmer?”

  “The correspondent who’s been just about everywhere? What, the Boer War, Boxer Rebellion, Greece, Philippines, even the Russo-Japanese War?”

  “That’s the one. He sent me a letter after the Mexicans released him from jail. He’s looking for a good story. We could send him with the Langley.”

  “Hmmm. And if he writes about the challenges facing the crew and the pilots, maybe he can sway public opinion.”

  “Exactly,” said Roosevelt. “He won’t sugarcoat any mistakes, but he’s seen enough to know what’s what.”

  “A good, honest reporter would be better anyway,” Fletcher agreed. “That leaves only one question. Where do we send her?”

  “The only option left is the Atlantic, Mr. President,” said Mayo.

  “The Germans have been more aggressive with their submarines. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Fletcher shook his head.

  “Sir, we’ve been practicing with our subs in the Caribbean. Ellyson and his pilots have scored their fair share of successes, and he thinks aircraft might be extremely valuable fighting submarines. Again, it’s something we have much to learn about, but the possibility is there. Wouldn’t it be better to learn that now, when we’re still neutral?”

  “That makes sense, Captain,” agreed Fletcher.

  “Gentlemen, we are not sending the Langley out to fight German submarines,” growled Roosevelt. “I do not want American young men to get anywhere close to that madness on the Western Front. My time as p
resident is short, I don’t want to run again, and I certainly don’t want to leave my successor involved over there.” His face twisted. “Especially if Wilson runs again.”

  “No, sir, that wasn’t my thought,” responded Chambers. “I meant if a submarine did approach us, our planes and a squadron of torpedo boats wouldn’t be their easiest target. Besides, we’re still painted white and are clearly neutral. I assume the North Carolina and the other escorts are also still white.”

  “They are, Captain,” agreed Fletcher. “If you stay out of the Kaiser’s new exclusion zone, there should be no reason for the Germans to threaten you.”

  “Agreed. That would risk ‘Teddy’s Toy’ unnecessarily.”

  The President grimaced. “Getting the Langley sunk would essentially eliminate all money for naval aviation.”

  “I understand, sir. However, having the Langley perform flight operations on that side of the Atlantic would be a major step forward.”

  “Mr. Palmer’s reporting certainly would influence Congress.” Roosevelt’s mustache bristled in his anger. “Those short-sighted fools.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” agreed Fletcher.

  “Very well. Captain Chambers, do you completely understand what you have to do?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. I am to push the limits of the Langley as much as possible without involving myself in naval skirmishes between the Germans and English. I’m not to risk the Langley overmuch, though I am to make sure Mr. Palmer is impressed.”

  “I don’t envy you, Captain Chambers,” said Admiral Fletcher.

  “Admiral, in the officer’s mess, just two decks down, is a wall with over forty names after adding Bronson and Welsh. Every man on this ship understands the risks. We all know what we’re doing is difficult, and we all know we could be the next name painted on that wall. Yet, still, every single man on this ship chooses to remain. They believe in what we’re doing.” Chambers shook his head. “I won’t deny this will be a tough mission, but I’d rather try to complete it with these men than any other job you could give me.”

  Roosevelt suddenly grinned. “Far better to dare, is what you’re telling us.”

  “Yes, Mr. President. Jones, Farragut, Crenshaw, and all the other great heroes of our navy’s past deserve no less.”

  “Well, Captain Chambers, with you and Commander Washington here,” the President nodded toward the executive officer, “I’ll admit to much more optimism than when I boarded my ‘toy.’”

  * * *

  28 April 1915

  “The plan was to harmonize sailors, officers, aeroplane mechanics, and pilots into a force so homogeneous that flesh and blood became machinery, with every crewman aboard the USS Langley working together with that sort of efficiency; but human elements older than the United States Navy, which had given warriors cheer on the march and fire in battle from the days of the spear to the days of the quick-firer, hampered the practical application of the cold professional idea worked out in the conscientious logic of the academic cloister.

  In more traditional branches of the navy, there is a sentiment and association among the sailors. Their tradition is based upon memories of Old Ironsides, Mobile Bay, and yes, the Maine. If they were not proud of it, they would be unnatural fighters.

  The members on the Langley are not immune to that sentiment and association, of course. Indeed, the second-ranking officer aboard the Langley was on the Maine at Santiago de Cuba. However, the machinery they are trying to learn and embrace is so foreign to many of these boys as to be much like the very top of the unconquerable Mt. Everest. And yet, like that soaring peak, they are seeking to lift our eyes to the heavens.

  If you, dear reader, often peruse pages such as this across the country, then you are likely to have learned of their defiant efforts to reach the sky from the sea. What sentiment and tradition these men have is often of death, as can be seen by the somber mural in their officer’s mess. Upon that wall are listed those who have perished to achieve this dream, and we have all too often mourned the fate of these heroes.

  It is the sad duty of your correspondent to inform you that yesterday, these crewmen had to emblazon that mural with yet another memory. Lieutenant, j.g. Richard Caswell Saufley, while attempting to land his Royal Aircraft BE.2.c upon this selfsame Langley suffered an engine failure and his aeroplane fell as a stone into the cold, gray waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Despite speedy reactions by Captain Washington Irving Chambers and his doughty crew, the plane sank with Saufley’s body before anyone could reach it.”

  - Frederick Palmer[1]

  * * *

  Early Morning, 1 May 1915

  Chambers stepped onto the bridge.

  “Captain on the bridge!”

  “As you were,” replied Chambers. He glanced around. His command might not have been necessary. The bridge crew had barely responded to the announcement. He had never seen them so lethargic.

  “What’s our position?” he asked the navigator. Upon the response, he replied, “That should put us about one hundred miles south of Brest? About ten miles from the exclusion zone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have you the course laid out for when we are forced to skirt the zone?”

  “Yes, sir.” The navigator rolled out the map. “When we get to this point in approximately an hour, we’ll change course to 350 to skirt the zone.”

  “Good.” He turned to the bosun’s mate at the voice tubes. “Please call for Commanders Ellyson and Washington join me in my briefing room.”

  “Gentlemen, we have a problem,” Chambers announced when they had gathered.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Ellyson. “Saufley’s death seems like the end.”

  “True, and while I understand, we will correct it. We’re not going back to Norfolk with our tails between our legs.”

  “Agreed, sir,” replied Washington, straightening a touch. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We have little to lose at this point. Therefore, we are, as of this morning, going to commence full aeroplane operations. We’re going to push the sailors and air crews on the Langley. We’re going to log flights everywhere we can. We’re close enough to France we can fly over their coastline. We’ll do the same to Cornwall and Ireland when we get there. Then we’ll loop back and surprise the Danish in Reykjavik.”

  “Is that legal?”

  “I’ll radio ahead and warn them we’re performing maneuvers. And then, once we’ve done all that, we’ll make a visit to Halifax. Mr. Washington, when we get there, arrange for as much shore leave as possible. Their little funk notwithstanding, the men have performed admirably, and I doubt we’ll have the opportunity to reward them once we return home.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Once we leave Halifax, we’ll sail along the coast, making surprise bombing runs over every American base we can.”

  “That’ll get you cashiered!”

  “Likely so, Mr. Washington, but we both know my career is over once this jaunt is completed. Might as well earn my way out of the Navy.”

  The two commanders glanced at each other.

  “Very well, sir,” said Washington, his eyes filled with doubt.

  “Make sure Mr. Palmer has complete access to everything. I want him watching us refuel those planes, and I want you ensuring that refueling process is fast and smooth. Just like we would have to launch for an imminent battle.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you, Mr. Ellyson, will tell your pilots they’re in for the hardest time of their lives. They’re going to fly every day. Some will likely die. We’ve danced around this issue too much to doubt it, but those who survive will be the best pilots in the world anywhere.”

  “Aye, air, sir!” snapped Spuds, his eyes bright. “And we’re flying over the exclusion zone?”

  “Yes, Mr. Ellyson. I want you to find and play tag with every ship in the area, be they English, French, German, or Japanese for that matter. I want everyone to know we can cover something like 8,000 square mil
es at a time. The U-boat commanders are welcome to try and shoot you down. At least then you’d have an excuse to fly bombing runs at them.”

  “With live bombs?”

  Chambers shook his head. “I think not, Mr. Ellyson. It’s not worth getting into the war, but it is worth putting the fear of God’s angels into those commanders. And for that matter, any English and French captains that get upset.”

  The two commanders laughed.

  “I’ll get right on that,” agreed Ellyson.

  “Do that. I’ll want a formation flight over Brest when we get to our closest point. At least ten aircraft, including one of the radio aeroplanes. Arrange for Mr. Palmer to be in an observer seat for that flight. Come to think of it, get him up as often as possible.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Get to it, gentlemen. I want this crew so angry at me that they forget they’re about to get tossed away by Congress.”

  The two commanders saluted and left the room, almost bouncing in their excitement.

  Now all I have to do is forget I’m about to get tossed away by Congress.

  * * *

  Early Morning, 7 May 1915

  “Damn this fog!” growled Ellyson. He stood on the bridge of the Langley. “We’re not doing anything until this lifts.”

  “Agreed, Commander.” Chambers gestured ahead of his ship. “You can’t see her, but the Terry is about ten thousand yards ahead of us, making sure we don’t run into anything.”

  “Hope her captain knows what he’s doing.”

  “Admiral Mayo has high hopes for Commander King. He’ll probably claim him for his staff as soon as he’s reassigned from the Terry.”

  “Good.” Ellyson snorted. “Guess I’ll just gather all my pilots and observers and we’ll go through the list of ships that are supposed to be in the area. If this pea soup ever leaves, maybe we can find them all.”

  “That’s a good idea. I know the Partridge, a boarding vessel, should be around here. Also, the radio telegraph picked up messages from the Juno, a British cruiser, saying she was heading back to Queenstown.”