CHAPTER 2WHEN HANSEN SALUTED AFT and stepped aboard the Chattahoochee, he returned to a world he understood. Near the quarterdeck, the first division was mustering. Forward, the third repeater was fluttering down from the yardarm. As he climbed the ladder to the captain’s quarters, some instinct told him that this world was also wobbling slightly. Returning the salute of his orderly, he entered his cabin and smelled the aroma of coffee—his steward was aboard. His shore phone was connected, the Norfolk paper with the ship’s paper was on his desk, and his yeoman had brought in a fortnight’s accumulation of Navy bulletins. As the bosun’s “Turn to” was piped over the intercom, he settled at his desk, and Marcos brought in his morning coffee.
Hansen reached first for the Bureau of Personnel’s
