One thing you had to admit about Captain Southby. He was an efficient senior officer, commanding our company of twenty with an iron hand. Also, he was a gentleman and a scholar.
You saw it in his eyes as he entered the double doors of the ship’s dining room, strode to the head of the table, and stood surveying us. While the clock pulsed away thirty seconds, he remained there motionless, noting with satisfaction the spotless linen, gleaming silverware, and the impeccable white uniforms of the twenty. Then he nodded.
“Gentlemen, be seated.”
Once those words were spoken, laughter and casual talk began abruptly. But not once in the three years I had served on OB-5 had I seen any variation of that evening formality. Oddly enough, Southby never seemed to consider the fact that he officered a
