高級(jí)英語(yǔ) Advanced English(張漢熙) 第一冊(cè) 14..Argentia Bay

ArgentiaBay

Herman Wouk

1. Argemtia Bay

Gray peace pervaded the wilderness-ringed Argentia Bay in Newfoundland, where the American ships anchored to await the arrival of Winston Churchill. Haze and mist blended all into gray: gray water, gray sky, gray air, gray hills with a tint of green. Sailors and officers went about their chores as usual on these ships, amid pipings and loud-speaker squawks. But a primeval hush lay heavy in Argentia Bay, just outside the range of the normal ships’ noises.

At nine o'clock, three gray destroyers steamed into view, ahead of a battleship camouflaged in swirls of color like snakeskin. This was H. M. S. Prince of Wales, bigger than any other ship in sight, bearing the guns that had hit the Bismarck. As it steamed past the Augusta, a brass band on its decks shattered the hush with "The Star-Spangled Banner ” Quiet fell. The band on the quarter -deck of the Augusta struck up "God Save the King. "

Pug Henry stood near the President, under the awning rigged at number-one turret, with admirals, generals, and august civilians like Averell Harriman and Sumner Welles Churchill was plain to see not five hundred yards away, ? an odd blue costume, gesturing with a big cigar. The president towered over everybody, stiff on braced legs, in a big brown suit, one hand holding his hat on his heart, the other clutching the arm of his son, an Air Corps Officer who strongly resembled him. Roosevelt's large pink face was self-consciously grave.

"God Save the King" ended. The President's face relaxed. "Well! I' ve never heard 'My Country' Tis of Thee' played better." The men around him laughed politely at the presidential joke, and Roosevelt laughed too. The squeal of boatswains' pipes broke up the dress parade on the cruiser's deck.

2. Harry Hopkins

Admiral King beckoned to Pug. "Take my barge over to

the Prince of Wales, and put yourself at Mr. Harry Hopkins's service. The President desires to talk with him before Churchill 　　comes to call, so expedite."

"Aye aye, sir."

Passing from the Augusta to the Prince of Wales in King's

barge, over a few hundred yards of still water, Victor Henry went from America to England and from peace to war was a shocking jump. King's spick-and-span flagship belonged to a different world than the storm-whipped British vessel, where the accomodation ladder was salt-crusted，the camouflage paint was peeling, and even the main battery guns looked pitted and rusty. Pug was aghast to see cigarette butts and wastepaper in the scuppers, though droves of blue jackets were doing an animated scrub-down. on the superstructure raw steel patches were welded here there -- sticking plaster for wounds from the Bismarck's salvos.

"Ah, yes, Captain Henry," said the officer of the deck, smartly returning the salute in the different British palm-out style. "Mr. Hopkins has received the signal and is waiting

for you in his cabin. The quartermaster will escort you." Victor Henry followed the quartermaster through passage-ways quite like those in American battleships, yet different in countless details: the signs, the fittings, the fire extinguishers, the shape of the watertight doors.

"Hello there, Pug," Hopkins spoke as though he had not seen the Navy captain for a day or two, though their last counter had been early in March, and meantime Hopkins had travelled to London and Moscow in a blaze of worldwide newspaper attention. "Am I riding over with you?"

"Yes, sir ."

"How's the President feeling?" Hopkins had two bags open on his bunk in a small cabin oft the wardroom. In one he carefully placed paper s, folders, and books; in the other he threw clothes, medicine bottles, and shoes as they carne to Hopkins looked thinner than before, a bent figure with a gray double-breasted suit flapping loosely on him.

"He's having the time of his life, sir."

"I can imagine. So's Churchill. Churchill’s like a boy going on his first date. Well, it's quite a historic moment, at that." Hopkins pulled dirty shirts from a drawer crammed them in the suitcase. "Almost forgot these. I left a few in the Kremlin and had to scrounge more in London."

"Mr. Hopkins, what about the Russians? Will they hold?"

Hopkins paused, a stack of papers in his hand, and pursed his mouth before speaking decisively. "The Russian will hold. But it'll be a near thing. They'll need help." He resumed his hurried packing. "When you fly from Archangel to Moscow, Pug, it takes hours and hours, over solid green forests and brown swamps. Often you don't see a village from horizon to horizon. Hitler's bitten oft a big bite this time." He was struggling with the clasps on his suitcase, and Pug gave him a hand. "Ah, thanks. What do you sup-pose Stalin wants from us most of all, Pug?"

"Airplanes," Victor Henry said promptly. "'Clouds of airplanes. ' Same as the French were yelling for last year."

"Aluminum," said Harry Hopkins. "Aluminum to build air-planes with. Well, let me correct that -- his number one item was

anti-aircraft guns. Next comes aluminum. Wants a lot of Army trucks, too. Stalin isn't planning to get beaten in three weeks, or six weeks, or three years." Hopkins tidiest the paper s in the smaller case, and closed it. "Let's go

As Hopkins shakily stepped aboard King's barge from the accomodation ladder, the stern rose high on a swell then dropped away from under him. He lost his balance and toppled into the arms of the coxswain, who said, "Oops-a-daisy,sir."

"Pug, I'll never be a sailor," Hopkins staggered inside, setting with a sigh on the cushions. "I flopped on my face

boarding the seaplane that flew me to the Soviet Union. That nearly ended my mission right there." He glanced

around at the flawlessly appointed barge. "Well, well. America! Peacetime! So -- you're still in War Plans. You'll attend the staff meetings, then. "

."Some of them, yes, sir. "

"You might bear in mind what our friends will be after. lt's fairly clear to me, after five days at sea with the Prime Minister." Hopkins held out one wasted hand and ticked off points on skeletal fingers. "First they'll press for an immediate declaration of war on Germany. They know they won't get that. But it softens the ground for the second demand, the real reason Winston Churchill has crossed the ocean. They want a warning by the United States to Japan that any move against the British in Asia means war with us. Their empire is mighty rickety at this point. They such a warning will shore it up. And they'll press for big war supplies to their people in Egypt and the MiddleEast. Because if Hitler pokes down there and closes the canal, the Empire strangles. They'll also try, subtly but hard--and I would too, in their place -- for an understanding that in getting American aid they come ahead of Russia. Now is the time to bomb the hell out of Germany from the West, they'll say, and build up for the final assault. Stuff We give Russia, it will be hinted, may be turned around and pointed against us in a few weeks."

Victor Henry said, "The President isn't thinking that way."

"I hope not. If Hitler wins in Russia, he wins the world. If he loses in Russia he's finished, even if the Japanese, move. The fight over there is of inconceivable magnitude There must be seven million men shooting at each other, Pug. Seven million, or more.” Hopkins spoke the figures slowly, stretching out the wasted fingers of both hands. "The Russians have taken a shellacking so far, but they're unafraid. They want to throw the Germans out. That's the war now. That's where the stuff should go now."

"Then this conference is almost pointless," said Pug The barge was slowing and clanging as it drew near the Augusta. "No, it's a triumph," Hopkins said. "The President of the United States and the British Prime Minister are meeting face to face to discuss beating the Germans. That's achievement enough for now.” Hopkins gave Victor Henry a sad smile, and a brlliant light came into his large eyes. He pulled himself to his feet in the rocking boat. "Also, Pug, this is the changing of the guard."

3. Churchill calls

Winston Churchill came to the Augusta at eleven o'clock, which saw the dramatic handshake of Roosevelt and Churchill at the gangway. They prolonged the clasp for the photographer s, exchanging smiling words.

In an odd way the two leaders diminished each other They were both Number One Men. But that was impossible. who, then, was Number One? Roosevelt stood a full head taller ,but he was pathetically braced on lifeless leg frames, clinging to his son's arm, his full trousers drooped and flapping. Churchill, a bent Pickwick in blue uniform, looked up at him with majestic good humor, much older, more dignified, more assured. Yet there was a trace of deference about the Prime Minister. By a shade of a shade, Roosevelt looked like Number One. Maybe that was what Hopkins had meant by "the changing of the guard. "

The picture-taking stopped at an unseen signal, the handshake ended, and a wheelchair appear ed. The erect front page President became the cripple more familiar to Pug, hobbling a step or two and sinking with relief into the Chair. The great men and their military chiefs lett the quarterdeck.

The staffs got right to business and conferred all day. Victor Henry worked with the planners, on the level below the chiefs of staff and their deputies where Burne-Wilke operated, and of course far below the summit of the President, the Prime Minister, and their advisers. Familiar problems came up at once: excessive and contradictory requests from the British services, unreal plans, unfilled contacts, jumbled priorities, fouled communications. One cardinal point the planners hammer ed out fast. Building new ships to replace U-boat sinkings came first. No war materiel could be used against Hitler until it had crossed the ocean. This plain truth, so simple once agreed on, ran a red line across every request, every program, every projection. Steel, aluminum, rubber, valves, motors, machine tools copper wire, all the thousand things of war, would go first to ships. This simple yardstick rapidly disclosed the poverty of the "arsenal of democracy," and dictated -- as a matter of frightening urgency -- a gigantic job of building new steel mills, and plants to turn the steel into combat machines and tools.

Through all the talk of grand hypothetical plans -- hundreds of ships, tens of thousands of airplanes and tanks, millions of men -- one pathetic item kept recurring: an immediate need for a hundred fifty thousand rifles. If Russia collapsed, Hitler might try to wrap up the war with a Crete-like invasion of England from the air. Rifles for defending British airfields were lacking. The stupendous materiel figures for future joint invasions of North Africa or the French coast contrasted sadly with this plea for a hundred fifty thousand r if les now.

4. Roosevelt hobbles across

Next morning, boats from all over the sparkling bay came clustering to the Prince of Wales for church services On the surrounding hills, in sunlight that seemed almost blinding after days of gray mist, the forests of larch and fir glowed a rich green.

An American destroyer slowly nosed its bridge along-side the battleship, exactly level with the main deck, and a gang-plank was thrown across. Leaning on his son's arm and on a cane, Franklin Roosevelt, in a blue suit and gray hat, lurched out on the gangplank, laboriously hitching one leg forward from the hip, then the other. The bay was calm, but both ships were moving on long swells. With each step, the tall President tottered and swayed. Victor Henry, like all the Americans crowding the destroyer bridge, hardly breathed as Roosevelt painfully hobbled across the narrow unsteady planks. Photographers waiting on the Prince of Wales quarter deck were staring at the President, but Pug observed that not one of them was shooting this crippled walk.

His foot touched the deck of the Prince of Wales. Churchill saluted him and offered his hand. The brass band burst forth with "The Star Spangled Banner. " Roosevelt stood at attention, his chest heaving, his face stiff with strain. Then, escorted by Churchill, the President hitched and hobbled all the way across the deck, and sat.

The British chaplain, his white and crimson vestments flapping in the wind, his thick gray hair blowing wildly, read the closing Royal Navy prayer: "?- Preserve us from the dangers of the sea, and from the violence of the enemy, that we may be a security for such as pass upon the sea upon their lawful occasions"- and that we may return in safety to enjoy the blessings of the land, with the fruits of our labors…and to praise and glorify Thy Holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord…" A few British sailors cautiously moved out of ranks. One then another, sneaked cameras from their blouses. When nobody stopped them and the two leaders smiled and waved, a rush began. Cameras appeared by the dozens. The sailors swarmed into a laughing, cheering ring around the two men. Pug Henry, watching this unwonted disorder on a warship with mixed feelings of amusement and outrage, felt a touch on his elbow. It was Lord Burne Willie. "Hello there, my dear fellow. A word with you?"

5. A request from the British

Burne-Wilke's cabin had the dark, warm, comfortable look of a library den. "I say, Henry, what is your position on shipboard drinking? I have a fair bottle of sherry here."

"I'm for it."

"Good. You're dry as a bone in your service, aren't you? Yet last night the President server us an excellent wine."

"The President is the source of all Navy regulations, sir, and can tailor them to his desires."

"Ah? Jolly convenient." Burne-Wilke lit a cigar, and they both sipped wine. "I suppose you know that this ship crossed the ocean without escort," the air commodore resumed. "Our first night out of England, we ran into a whole gale. Our destroyer s couldn't maintain speed, so we zigzagged on alone."

"Sir, I was appalled to hear about it."

"Really? Rather sporting of the British Prime Minister, don’ t you think, to give the Hun a fair shot at him on the open sea. Three thousand miles without air cover or surface escort, straight through the entire submarine fleet. "

"You had your good angels escorting you. That's all I can say.”

"Oh, well, at any r ate her e we are. But it might be prudent not to overwork those good angels, what? Don't you agree? On our way back, every U-boat in the Atlantic will certainly be on battle alert. We shall have to run the gamut." Burne-Wilke paused, studying the ash on his cigar. "We're stretched thin for escorts, you know. We've rounded up four destroyers. Admiral Pound would be happier with six."

Victor Henry quickly said, "I'll talk to Admiral King.”

"You understand that this cannot be a request from us. The Prime Minister would be downright annoyed. He's hoping we'll meet the Tirpitz and get into a running gun fight."

"Let me star t on this now, sir ." Pug drank up his sherry, and rose to his feet.

"Oh? Would you?" Burne-Wilke opened the cabin door. "Thanks awfully."

On the after deck, the photographing was still going on. Officers with cameras were now shouldering sailors aside, as the two politicians cheerfully chatted. Behind them stood their glum chiefs of staff and civilian advisers. Hopkins, squinting out at the sunny water, wore a pained expression. The military men were talking together, except for Admiral King, who stood woodenly apart. Pug walked up to him, saluted, and in the fewest possible words recount-ed his talk with Burne-Wilke. The lines along King's lean Jaws deepened. He nodded twice and strolled away, without a word. He did not go anywhere. It was just a gesture of dismissal, and a convincing one.

Amid much wining and dining, the conference went on for two more days. One night Churchill took the floor in the Augusta wardroom after dinner, and delivered a rolling, rich word picture of how the war would go. Blockade, ever growing air bombardment, and subversion would in time weaken the grip of Nazi claws on Europe. Russia and England would "close a ring" and slowly, inexorably tighten it, If the United States became a full-fledged ally, it would all go much faster, of course. No big invasion or long land campaign would be needed in the West. Landing of a few armored columns in the occupied countries would bring mass uprisings. Hitler's black empire would suddenly collapse in rubble, blood, and flame. Franklin Roosevelt listened with bright-eyed smiling attention, saying nothing, and applauding heartily with the rest.

On the last day of the conference, just before lunch, Admiral King sent for Pug. He found the admiral in under-shirt and trousers in his cabin, drying face and ears with a towel. "Task Unit 26 point 3 point 1, consisting of two destroyers, the Mayrant and the Rhind, has bee formed," King said without a greeting. "It will escort the Prince of Wales to Iceland. You will embark in the Prince of Wales as liaison officer, disembark in Iceland, and return with our task unit."

"Aye aye, sir."

"You'll have no written orders. In confidence, we'll soon be convoying all ships to Iceland. Maybe by next week. Hell, our own marines are occupying the place now. The President's even sending a young officer along as a naval aide to Churchill while he tours our Iceland base. Ensign

Franklin D. Roosevelt, Junior."King spoke the name with an expressionless face.

"Yes, sir ."

"Now, Henry, how are you at languages?"

"It's long time since I tried a new one, Admiral."

"Well, a military supply mission will go to the Soviet Union in September. If Russia's still in the war by then, that is, Mr. Hopkins has brought up your name. He appears impressed, and the President too, by your expertise on landing craft and so forth. Now your service record has been checked, and it seems you claim a 'poor to fair ’ knowledge of Russian. Hey? How is that? That's very unusual."

"Admiral, I put that down when I enter ed the Academy in 1911. It was true then. I don't remember ten words now." Henry explained the circumstances that had given him : Russian-speaking chums in his Sonoma County boyhood.

"I see. Well, it's there on the record. Upon returning from Iceland you will be detached from War Plans to pre-pare yourself, with an intensive refresher course in Russian, for a possible trip to the Soviet Union on special detached duty. You'll have interpreters. But with even a smattering, your intelligence value will be greater."

"Aye, aye, sir ."

King put on his uniform jacket, stared at Victor Henry, and for the first time that Henry could recall, favored him With a smile.

"Have you heard that extension of the draft passed the House of Representatives an hour ago?"

"It did? Thank God."

"By one vote."

"What! One vote, sir?"

"One vote."

"Whew! That's not going to encourage the British, Admiral."

"No, nor the President, but it's how the American people feel right now. It may be suicidal, but there it is. Our job is to keep going anyway."

6. U-boat sightings

To brass band anthems and booming gun salutes, in a brisk breeze smelling of green hills and gunpowder, the Prince of Wales left Argentia Bay. The great conference was over.

In the wardroom of the Prince of Wales, Victor Henry could sense the subtle gloom hanging over the ship. What the conference had accomplished to increase help for Eng-land remained undisclosed; and in itself this clearly struck the battleship's officers as a bad sign. These men, veterans of two combat year s, of air attacks and gun fights, had a subdued dismal air, despite the grandeur of their ship and the stuffy luxury of their wardroom . The predicament of England seemed soaked in their bones. They could not Believe that Winston Churchill had risked the best ship in their strained navy, and his own life, only to return empty-handed. That wasn't Winnie's style. But vague hope, rather than real confidence, was the note in their conversation

Major-General Tillet came up to Victor Henry after dinner that evening, and laid a lean hand on his shoulder."Like to have a look at the submarine sightings chart, Henry? The prime Minister thought you might."

Red secrecy warnings blazed on the steel door that Tillet opened. Dressed in a one-piece garment like a mechanic's coveralls, stooped and heavy-eyed, Churchill pondered a map of the Russian front all across one bulkhead. Opposite hung a chart of the Atlantic. Young officers worked over dispatches at a table in the middle of the

room, in air thick with tobacco smoke.

"There," said the Prime Minister to Tillet and Pug Henry, gesturing at the map of the Soviet Union with his cigar." There is an awful unfolding picture."

The crimson line of the front east of Smolensk showed two fresh bulges toward Moscow. Churchill coughed, and glanced at Henry. "Your President warned Stalin. I warned him even more explicitly, basing myself on very exact intelligence. Surely no government ever had less excuse to be surprised." The Prime Minister turned and walked to the other bulkhead, with a tottering step. At Argentia,.Churchill had appeared strong, rubby, springy, and altogether ten year s younger. Now his cheeks were ashy, with red patches.

"Hello. Don't we have a development here?"

Little black coffin-shaped markers dotted the wide blue spaces, and an officer was putting up several more, in a cluster close to the battleship's projected course. Far ther son stood large clusters of r ed pins, with a few blue pins. "This new U-boat group was sighted by an American patrol plane at twilight, sir, "said the officer.

"Ah, yes. So Admiral Pound advised me. I suppose we are evading?"

"We have altered course to north, sir."

"Convoy H-67 is almost home, I see."

"We will be pulling those pins tonight, Mr. Prime Minister."

"That will be happy news." Churchill harshly coughed, puffing at his cigar, and said to Pug Henry, "Well. We may have some sport for you yet. It won't be as lively as a bomber r ice over Berlin. Eh? Did you enjoy that, Captain?"

"It was a rare privilege, Mr. Prime Minister."

"Any time. Any time at all."

"Too much honor, sir. Once was plenty."

Churchill uttered a hoarse chuckle. "I daresay. What is the film tonight, General Tillet?"

"Prime Minister, I believe it is Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, in Saps at Sea."

"Saps at sea, eh? Not inappropriate! The Surgeon-General has ordered me to remain in bed. He has also ordered me not to smoke. I shall attend Saps at Sea, and bring my cigars. "

Pug Henry's enjoyment of Saps at Sea was shadowed by an awareness that at any moment the battleship might re into a U-boat pack. Greman skippers were adept at sneaking past destroyer screens. But the film spun to the end uninterrupted. "A gay but inconsequent entertainment, " the Prime Minister remarked in a heavy, rheumy voice, as he plodded out.

7. "We'll have to pay the price"

Clement Attlee's broadcast the next day packed the wardroom. Every officer not on watch, and all staff officers and war planners, gathered in the wardroom around one singularly ancient, crack-voiced radio. The battleship, plowing through a wild storm, rolled and pitched with slow long groans. For the American guest, it was a bad half hour. He saw perplexed looks, lengthening faces, and head-shakes, as Attlee read oft the "Atlantic Charter." The high-flown language bespoke not a shred of increased American commitment. Abuse of Nazi tyranny, praise of "four freedoms, "dedication to a future of world peace and brotherhood, yes; more combat help for the British, flat zero. Some sentences about free trade and independence for all peoples meant the end of the British Empire, if they meant anything.

Franklin Roosevelt was indeed a tough customer, thought Captain Henry, not especially surprised.

"Umph!" grunted Major-General Tillet in the silence after the radio was shut off. "I'd venture there was more to it than that. How about it, Henry?"

All eyes turned on the American.

Pug saw no virtue in equivocating. "No, sir, I'd guess that was it."

"Your President has now pledged in a joint communique to destroy Nazi tyranny," Tillet said. "Doesn't that mean You'er coming in, one way or another?"

"It means Lend-Lease,” Pug said.

Questions shot at him from all sides.

"You're not going to stand with us against Japan?"

"Not now."

"But isn't the Pacific your fight, pure and simple?"

"The President won't give a war warning to Japan. He can't, without Congress behind him."

"What's the matter with your Congress?"

"That's a good question, but day before yesterday it came within one vote of practically dissolving the United States Army."

"Don't the congressmen know what’ s happening in the world?"

"They vote their political hunches to protect their political hides. "

"Then what's the matter with your people?"

"Our people are about where yours were at the time of the Munich pact. "

That caused a silence.

Tillet said, "We're paying the price."

"We' ll have to pay the price. "

"We had Chamberlain then for a leader, sir," said a fresh-faced lieutenant."You have Roosevelt."

"The American people don't want to fight Hitler, gentlemen, ” said Pug. "It's that simple, and Roosevelt can't help that. They don't want to fight anybody. Life is pleasant. The war's a ball I game they can watch. You're the home team, because you talk our language. Hence Lend-Lease, and this Atlantic Charter. Lend-Lease is no sweat,

it just means more jobs and money for everybody.”

An unusually steep roll brought a crash of crockery in the galley. The crossfire stopped. Victor Henry went to his cabin. Before disembarking in Iceland, he did not talk much more to the British officers.

(from The Winds of War, 1971)