Equals
"Forgive me, Sir."
God, what a pitiful excuse for a Navy officer I was! Crying like a baby before my captain, in his quarters, for heaven's sake! Oh, I could just see it now: he would either shoot me where I stood or laugh me out of his cabin, then leave me on the first uninhabited patch of land he could find so I wouldn't be able to embarrass anyone else in that fashion ever again.
"It's all right, Mr. Hornblower, it's all right."
What was that? For a moment, I even thought he had actually touched me. But he couldn't have, could he? And that tone he used; it was a far cry from the one I expected to hear from my captain. I didn't dare move, I was so confused.
"Oh, come on, man, look at you. Look at your new uniform, what a sorry state. Hardly the image we've come to expect, is it?"
I couldn't help it: I breathed out a laugh, surprised but oddly comforted by his gentle teasing. "No, Sir," I answered, doing my best to straighten myself out, squaring my shoulders and adopting a more officer-like posture.
I thought he would dismiss me then, before I went and made a further embarrassment of myself. Instead, he looked me straight in the eye with an expression that was both commanding and soothing.
"When we put on this uniform, Mr. Hornblower, we entered into a life of adventure and adversity. But above all, a life of duty. A duty to our people. Our King. Our country. But also, a duty to our men. We must always be a source of inspiration to them, Mr. Hornblower. And whatever may befall us – whatever – we must never forget we are officers in His Majesty's Navy."
He hadn't roared those words, the way he had addressed us when we first came onboard the Indy a lifetime ago. But by God, the quiet intensity with which he had said them infused me with so much pride and confidence that I could have led a raid on the French right this instant. That is, if my mind wasn't still reeling from the words themselves, or rather, one in particular.
We.
He had addressed me as an equal. Not as a subordinate suddenly gone weak in the knees, nor as a wayward child that deserved nothing more than to be sent to his room. An equal. It was a precious gift that, at the moment, I didn't feel worthy of. But it was also a lesson in leadership, one I had started learning on the Caroline and that I finally understood. Bitter brew, indeed.
I straightened up a little more, my head held high. "Indeed, Sir."
"I'm glad to see you safe, Mr. Hornblower."
So simple, so straightforward. And so heart-warming, I felt myself relaxing at once. I was home, basking in the appreciation and the comfort offered by my captain. I smiled. "And I to be back, Sir."
As I closed the door behind me a few moments later, I didn't feel whole quite yet. But the pain had receded somewhat, and I could foresee a day when I would be whole again. And I found myself hoping that when that day came, I would be able to thank Sir Edward properly for his kindness. As an equal.
THE END