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also know that the Board of Inquiry exonerated me. The ship was fought well considering we had no warning. The AWACs didn’t pick up the F-14 that fired it because he was in the mountain clutter. Our radar didn’t catch it because they programmed the flight path behind an island; it popped up just before it hit us.
    â€œWe picked it up visually in time to get two Sparrows off. NAVSEA calculates a point-six probability-of-hit on a Harpoon with one AIM-7E round and a point-eight for a two-round engagement. We happened to fall in that out-of-luck two-tenths. The first one missed and the second intercepted just inside arming range. The gun was at Condition Three and we couldn’t get rounds out in time. So we got clobbered. But you also know that Admiral Gyland was relieved for ordering a non-Phalanx, non-NTDS ship to a picket station that close to Iran.
    â€œI’m telling you this, not to say I’m happy with what happened. We lost the ship and forty-two guys. We lost them because we didn’t expect anyone to attack us. I blame myself. I will never, never allow that to happen again.”
    He waited, apparently for some response, but the wardroom was dead quiet.
    â€œI happened to see Charlie’s medical report when it came in and I asked for this job. They didn’t have anybody else qualified in frigates on short notice, so I got it. So far, looking around the ship, I like what I see. At the same time, there are going to be some changes. I’ll be talking with the XO about that.”
    Shaker glanced at Dan. “Now. Who usually takes her out?”
    â€œI’ve been doing the close conning for the last two months, sir.”
    â€œI’ll take her tomorrow. Later I want the department heads to do it.”
    Dan nodded. It was standard operating procedure. He’d only done it when the captain—the former captain—was unable to. “Yessir. That’ll be day after tomorrow, not tomorrow.”
    â€œI want to move underway time up twenty-four hours,” said Shaker. “Give us time to shake down before we pick up the convoy. Department heads, any problems with that? Can we fuel, onload supplies, finish any repairs today and tonight, and get under way a day early?”
    Dan saw Guerra wince, and Ron Brocket, the supply officer, suddenly dive for his wheel book. The engineer said, “Uh, we’re testing PLA on Number One right now.”
    â€œWhat’s the problem?”
    â€œFuel-oil control valve’s been leaking.”
    Shaker said, “That shouldn’t take you long. Any other hitches? Okay, let’s plan on oh-six-hundred.” He turned to Dan. “That’ll be okay for tide, won’t it?”
    On Van Zandt, the XO was also the navigator. “Yes sir. I’ll get with ops and work out the details with the harbormaster.”
    â€œOkay,” said Shaker. “I’ll be over at the compound most of the afternoon; they want to see me with the convoy op order. Are there any questions now?”
    Nobody had any questions. He looked around the room once again, then got up. The officers jumped to their feet. He nodded, his face expressionless, and went out.
    When he was gone, Dan kept the department heads for a few minutes, discussing what they had to finish to get under way early. When they were gone, he drew himself a glass of iced tea and stood by the porthole, reviewing his first impressions.
    Shaker seemed confident. He didn’t waste any time taking over. Well, he ought to know what he was doing; he’d had a frigate before in these waters, though an earlier class.
    Of course, there would be changes. Every captain ran his ship differently, according to his inheritance of the trade and his own ideas of leadership. Some were book men, while others didn’t worry over regulations as long as the ship met her commitments. Some were sticklers for etiquette, others relished an earthy style; some were operators, others