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Sundays, were one of the most important things an exec did. Your nose would tell you pretty quick if you were on a ship where the exec did not make daily inspections.
    The Malloy was assigned to a carrier screen, meaning we went where the big ship went, maintaining a specified station on the carrier. We were constantly looking for Jap subs with our sonar, and we stood ready to defend against air attacks, which came just about daily. The carrier formations were vast—up to fifteen big-decks of the Essex class and another dozen or so of the smaller escort carriers. The fleet formation itself covered a circular area of just over fifty miles. There were antiaircraft light cruisers, heavy cruisers, and even battleships, which, now that the Jap fleet had been virtually eliminated from the sea, were used principally as massive antiaircraft gun platforms. Every third day we would go alongside either one of the carriers or an oiler to refuel and replenish food and ammo stocks.
    When the Japs attacked from the air, the destroyers would close in around their assigned carriers in a tight circle and put up a sky-full of antiaircraft fire, called ack-ack from the sounds made by the smaller guns firing at any Jap plane who showed an interest in our carrier. The carriers, which had long-range air-search radars, would launch fighters into a Combat Air Patrol screen each morning to stations between Japan and the fleet formation. When a raid was detected, the CAP would be vectored to engage as far out from the screen as possible. The closer the Jap planes came, the more CAP they ran into, with the idea being to grind down the attacking formation to onesies and twosies by the time they got in close enough to target our ships.
    I met with the captain each day after morning quarters and caught him up on the housekeeping and personnel issues. He in turn brought me up to speed on the operational events in our immediate future. Captain Tallmadge was a genuinely pleasant man, who took an abiding interest in his people. He was very patient with me. I had come from the carrier Navy with no experience in destroyers, so he took a lot of time to explain how things really worked in the world of tin cans. It was a refreshing change in leadership style; for the most part, my bosses had been somewhat distant, ready to give me the chance to sink or swim in whatever new assignment I was taking on. That was especially true on a carrier, where there were nearly three thousand people milling about at any one time. Tallmadge cared, and the whole crew knew it. Serving in Malloy was shaping up to be a pleasure.
    Then we went north to the Okinawa picket line.

 
    TWO
    April 28, 1945
    â€œXO.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMorning stars, sir.”
    â€œWhat about ’em?”
    The quartermaster of the watch chuckled. “Nautical twilight in fifteen, sir,” he said. “You want Mister Enright to take it?”
    â€œI’d love that, McCarthy,” I said. “But…”
    â€œYes, sir. Anyway, morning stars.”
    â€œGot it,” I said. “On my way. Two sugars, please.”
    â€œReady and waiting, XO.”
    â€œCaptain up?”
    â€œNo, sir. Log says he went to his sea cabin at oh one thirty.”
    I grunted. The captain was a heavy smoker who used all that nicotine to stay up as late as possible. Once he went down, however, he went down. It was one of my jobs to wake him up, which always took some doing. “On my way,” I said.
    I got up, splashed some water on my face, and put on my uniform khakis. I stared at my reflection in the sink mirror and groaned at what I saw. The fifty-year-old face looking back at me was really only thirty-five. I’d aged fifteen years since we’d gone on the radar picket line. We all had. Even the ensigns were looking old. I went looking for my sea boots in all the clutter in my tiny “stateroom.”
    The ship was quiet. Reveille was forty-five minutes away. The