Honorable Mention by Robert N. Macomber

Author:Robert N. Macomber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Naval Fiction, Historical Fiction, Robert Macomber, Honor Series, Florida Ficton
Publisher: Pineapple Press
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

***

The two boats headed for the strip of beach far ahead. Wake and Rork were in the Hunt’s launch, with Hudnall’s executive officer, Master Jordan, and one of his bosuns in the other launch. In the starlight they finally made out a pale line between the sea and the sky, after rowing for an hour and a half. Wake had them pulling at a slow but steady stroke, but the men were tired and he was glad to see their destination come into view at last. The big passage into the Marco River lay on their port bow, and the broadening expanse of beach spread out to the starboard. Another hour of rowing brought them into the surf line, where they quietly slid over the gunwales into the knee-deep water and pushed the boats forward until they took the ground and stopped.

Wake had briefed the men in the launches as they floated together by the steamers offshore, when first put into the water. He told them that there were possibly men on the beach who had deserted the shipwrecked Annison, were slacking in their naval duties, and might have robbed Robertson. He reminded them of the need for silence as they ascended the beach, and was thankful to see their nodded acknowledgments. None of the sailors looked perturbed or uneasy. They had been assigned to track down deserters before and had no sympathy for men who shirked the duty others were resigned to do.

Wake realized that none of them asked about the sole officer of the Annison, or what had happened to the schooner. They had all seen the destroyed hulk, but none had asked the question that was burning in Wake’s mind. If they were wondering, they didn’t show it or ask questions of their officer—it would’ve been a breach of courtesy. Another example of naval discipline, Wake thought. A merchant crew would’ve asked. As the group walked through the shallow water, Wake slowed his pace briefly, holding Rork behind and whispering to him his more detailed suspicions, with a final admonition to watch everyone, in all directions.

On the dry sand of the beach, the two officers gathered the twenty sailors around them and ordered a detail of four to guard the boats, while the others started to make their way up into the treeline.

Once there, they formed a column and trudged through the sand southward the mile to Robertson’s camp. Wake sent Rork and two sailors out ahead to scout for any sign of trouble. Twice he had Jordan silence men and take their names for future punishment. They moved slowly in the darkness, the trees and bushes making strange shapes outlined against the sand. Overhead, the stars glittered brightly in between the branches of the buttonwood and seagrape trees. The inevitable noise produced by so many men and their equipment was partially obscured by the sound of the surf periodically crashing along the beach, and the swish of the trees’ leaves and branches. Wake was glad it was at least a crisp January night and there were no insects.

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