Sex and the High Command Read Online Free PDF Page B

sailing.”
    “Then why are the Scandinavian countries underpopulated?” The man’s theorizing irritated the captain who barely restrained the harshness in his voice.
    “Because they sailed away from their miserable lands to breed Normans, Englishmen, Scots, Turks. In Aleppo, once, I met a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed Levantine. Ah, such rapport…”
    Sixteen cylinders were beginning to purr, but Hansen had no time for dalliance, past or present. “Doctor, I have to evaluate the truth in McCormick’s story, and McCormick didn’t tell the story.”
    “That bothered me. Captain,” the doctor sprinted ahead. “Men such as McCormick ordinarily don’t boast. Well, the truth’s relative, anyway.”
    “Yes, but I’ve got to get the facts.”
    “Put him on his scout’s honor.”
    “I’ll put him on his honor as an American bluejacket.” Hansen’s voice was harsh. “How long have you been in the Navy, Doctor?”
    “About three months, sir. I had a large practice in Beverly Hills, but it dwindled away. All of a sudden, the women didn’t need psychiatrists anymore.”
    That explained it—a Beverly Hills head shrinker. Hansen’s raft quit pitching, and the sea grew glassy until a lanky, red-haired man with a protruding Adam’s apple stepped through the door and said, “Chief McCormick reporting. Captain.”

CHAPTER 3
    “At ease, Chief,” the captain said. “Dr. Gresham is here because the story in the ship’s paper attracted attention, shoreside.”
    “Captain, I sure hope that little old girl wasn’t any Typhoid Mary.”
    “No, Chief,” the doctor said, “the Navy’s having a personnel problem, and you may help us solve it.”
    “I heard about it, sir. Are the women on strike, Commander?”
    Gresham opened his briefcase. “That’s as good an answer as any.” He pulled out a pipe, a tobacco pouch, and a clipboard with a sheet of graph paper attached. “We think it’s a boycott as part of a woman’s peace movement. The Chinese missile threat seems to have frightened the ladies.” He thumbed the tobacco into the pipe. “We hope you can help us isolate elements which make up male sex appeal.” He lighted his match and sucked the flame into the bowl. Between interstices in the down-drawn flame, he said, “Now, Chief, I want to ask you a few questions in a sensitive area.” Gresham’s voice became low, resonant, comforting. “If it embarrasses you to have your captain present, I’m sure…”
    “Doctor, I’d rather Captain Hansen hear. We’ve got some confused hands below, and I hear tell he’s got some confused officers. If I can help, I sure want to.”
    “Then, be seated. Chief,” the doctor said. “Remember, even the most personal questions I ask are ultimately impersonal. We’re aiming at a general definition of a specific set of traits.”
    “Commander, I’ll tell anything I know, but I don’t have no power over women. Sometimes it takes me as long as an hour and a half to get them persuaded, because I don’t fool with nothing but nice girls.”
    “Then, how do you account for the three venereal complaints on your health record?”
    “Doctor, I think three out of eight hundred and sixty-three girls, counting after puberty, speaks well for the decency of women all over the world.”
    “Fantastic!” Dr. Gresham was losing his objectivity. “Were there any before puberty?”
    “Might say I fungoed a few.”
    Gresham jotted a point on his chart, looked up, and asked, abruptly, “Do you practice masturbation?”
    By heavens, Hansen thought, they had not changed that question since he was a midshipman.
    “You can call me either a liar or a pud puller, Doctor. You take your choice, sir.”
    “Wonderful! Wonderful! What about your mother? Ever have a yen for her?”
    “No, sir. Ma was a little bony.”
    Almost gleefully, the doctor made another quick jab at his chart. “When you are approached by a homosexual, do you resent his advances, welcome his advances, remain