This chapter I wrote Rhoda and Madeline. My friend has continued to write Warren.

I do not own The Winds of War/ War and Remembrance. All rights belong to Herman Wouk, who wrote an amazing story.

Chapter Ten

Somewhere out in the Pacific Ocean, days after the sinking of the Northampton, Victor Henry was still on the piece of wood he'd dragged himself onto. He hadn't moved, just allowed the waves to carry them where they might go. His mouth was dry from not having any drinkable water, his face pale, his clothes wet from when the waves splashed onto the wood and his right leg was at a slightly awkward angle. Pug was almost certain that he'd broken it when he'd been slammed against the ship's railing. But at the moment, he was barely conscious, barely registering each bob of the waves. It was because of this that he failed to see the submarine that was surfacing nearby.

The submarine was sailing far below the waves, Bryon stood in it, watched the men around him. Slowly they began to rise, heading for the surface. It was common for submarines to resupply on air, allow the fresh sea oxygen to enter the vessel. However, they commonly found little time to do this during war. There had been no attacks in several days in the region of the water, the time seemed appropriate for a surfacing.

Around him, some of the crew and the other officers pushed through the hatch. Whenever they had the chance, they all enjoyed being able to get fresh air instead of the stale air that always filled the inside of the submarine.

Byron got up, walked on the top of the submarine for a moment. In the distance a faint object moved, his squinted his eyes to see what it could be. "Is that... a man?" He turned, called out, "Man overboard!"

The commander of the Devilfish, Captain Carter Aster turned at Byron's call, squinted into the distance at the object. "Yes, that's a man alright," he said, ordering the submarine to turn in that direction.

He couldn't make out any movement as they turned the submarine closer to him, wondered if the man was even still alive.

Byron watched, keeping a close eye on it. "Well... Someone's got to go over there..." He waited for a second as they came closer, jumped into the water and swam toward the man on the plank of wood.

Even when the submarine approached and his son started swimming towards him, Pug Henry did not move an inch, his eyes closed like they had been for most of the time he'd been out on the sea.

Getting to the plank, Byron didn't even glance at the man, didn't get a chance to look at his face. Figuring it would be easier to move the plank then the man, he turned and grabbed hold of the wood, dragging it as the submarine got closer.

Still Pug did not open his eyes, registered the change in movement only as another wave pushing him in another direction.

When they reached the submarine other sailors jumped down, intending to drag the man up. Byron got back on the sub, sat back and took several deep breaths, dragging the plank not being easy.

Other man had gathered on the edge of the submarine to watch and they carefully lifted Pug from the plank and onto the submarine, lying him down and feeling for a pulse.

Byron turned for a moment, asked, "Is he alive?" He turned back around, continued to breathe slowly. Suddenly he thought of something, realized the face he had just gotten a glimpse of looked familiar.

"Yes, he's alive," One of the men answered, "But he needs medical attention."

Pug still hadn't moved, remained where they'd placed him on the submarine.

Turning back to the man, Byron said, "Can you turn him around..."

Carefully, the man rolled Pug over so that Byron could make out the man's features.

Byron stared for a moment, couldn't believe it. "That's...that's my father..."

It was then that Pug opened his eyes, hearing the familiar voice although he wasn't sure whether he was dreaming or not. He blinked a few times, seeing his son not too far away, along with all the other officers and the crew members of the Devilfish.

Byron knelt down, looked at his father for a moment. "Dad...what...how..."

"My ship sunk..." His voice was hoarse from not using it for days and his eyes flickered closed before he forced them open again and looked into his son's face.

"Don't speak, Dad..." He turned, looked up at the men. "Well don't just stand there... Get some water."

One of the men hurried back inside the submarine and came back with a cup of water which he handed to Byron. Kneeling down, Byron poured the water into his father's mouth, said, "Drink, Dad...drink..."

As the water was poured into his mouth, Pug swallowed it, the moisture feeling good against his dry throat. He hadn't had anything to drink since before the ship sunk.

"There you go... We need to get him below." Byron nodded, looked over at the hatch.

Carefully, some of the men lifted Pug up again, brought him to the hatch and then down into the submarine where they carried him to the officers quarters. There wasn't much room there, but they set him down on one of the cots.

He followed his father closely, kept up with the other men. Turning, he said, "Bring some food and more water."

The men left, leaving the father and son alone in the room as some of them went to get what Byron asked for.

Pug stared blankly upward for a moment before he turned his head and looked at his son. He had been beginning to doubt that he would ever be rescued, and now he found himself safe inside a submarine with his younger son.

Byron stared at his father, gave a bit of a smile. "Hey, Dad..."

"Hey, Byron." His voice wasn't quite as hoarse as it had been last time he'd spoken, the water having helped a little.

"Dad... I didn't know you were out here... I'm... They must have sent a letter home." He sat back, thought of how his family must feel right now.

Pug gave a small nod. "I wouldn't be surprised if they've reported me missing by now."

He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been out there, but he knew it had to be at least a few days.

"Yeah... we'll get that taken care of." He nodded, looked up at the men who entered, handed him a glass of water and a plate of food. "Well here you are."

"Yes, I am." Pug agreed, sitting up slightly so that he could eat and drink easier, although pulling himself upwards sent pain all the way down his leg.

"Don't move, Dad...Not too much." He looked down, asked, "Anything hurting more? Broken?"

He glanced at his leg, which throbbed painfully. "I have a feeling my right leg is broken."

Looking down at the leg, Byron grimaced. "Yeah... I think it's broken too..."

"I'll be alright." Pug said, looking down at the water and food that had been handed to him, grateful to be on the submarine and out of the water.

"I'll get a medical team down here as soon as possible." Byron nodded, looked up at his father. "How long have you been out there?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Pug said, starting to eat the food, "At least a few days. It was hard to keep track of the time."

"Alright... We'll get it all figured out." Nodding, he looked around, suddenly at a loss for words.

Pug wasn't entirely sure what else to say to his son, finished the plate of food he'd been given and set it to the side before carefully lying down again, wincing when he moved the leg. "How's the hunting been Briny?"

"Alright... It's been quiet for several days, guess that's a good thing... Where were you, dad? The last letter I got was after Pearl Harbor."

"I was reassigned to the Northampton, we were out at sea when we get caught by submarines and torpedoed. The ship went down." Pug didn't even know how many of the men had gotten off, how many had gone down with the ship.

"Wow..." He sat there, stared at his father's face. "I...I'm sorry..."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "I'll have to see when we get back where they want me next. I might have lost my chance at a sea command."

"Don't worry about that now, dad... You just got rescued from the ocean, that doesn't happen often..."

Pug nodded. "I know."

At that moment, he found himself exhausted by everything that had just happened and his eyes slid closed, sleep threatening to close in.

"Go to sleep, dad...Go to sleep." Byron nodded, patted his dad's chest as the man lay back.

He didn't respond to his son, was asleep a moment later.