Elucidation, the Oil on Troubled Waters
It was a cover story told to find the missing Skipper. Nelson said to her, 'Name: Harriman Jones. Occupation: Lee Glenn's friend, enemy, partner, rival, big brother, blood brother, and sometimes I'd like to bash his head in.'
It was easy to keep up a cover story that was all true.*
Crane was sitting at his desk when the Admiral knocked and waited to be acknowledged before entering. Both were being very cautious with the other, treading lightly, anxious to not offend. Doc had prepared them both as best he could. As the Admiral walked in, the Captain stood up in a sign of respect. Although Crane couldn't disguise how absolutely ragged, weak, and on edge he looked, he tried.
He straightened up as much as he could and spoke very respectfully and formally, "Admiral Nelson, thank you for coming, sir." This formality of greeting was his acknowledgment of the rude and disrespectful nature of his last interactions with the Admiral.
Nelson responded quite coolly with a formal, "Captain Crane."
Neither had given the other anything to work with. The two men, ill at ease, stood in silence taking in the tension and strain visible in the other. Neither looked at the other steadily, glancing questioningly and then away, not wanting to be aggressive with their gaze. They each hesitated to speak, uncertainty, uneasiness, and embarrassment written on both their faces.
Then Crane inadvertently dropped his hand down to the desk to steady himself.
"Oh sit down, Lee, before you fall over." Nelson's tone was his old familiar one.
There was a very long pause. Normally their disagreements were dealt with quickly, not quietly necessarily, but quickly. Typically each could hold his ground during their disputes, raised voices featured in them, but they still resolved their disagreements rapidly. They were not used to having a rift between them. This time it was not just about differing ideas on running a mission, or the safety of the boat and crew. It had touched on their respect for the other, their relationship as friends. It was unwelcome territory. Despite pondering this meeting Crane wasn't yet sure how to start this conversation. He was ashamed and embarrassed and felt guilty for sustaining the breach between them.
Suddenly Crane ducked his head, and sighed deeply, "Aye, sir." He sank down rather abruptly as weakness washed over him. He really was not physically up to this stress. Adding to their discomfort, both were keenly aware of the difference in rank. Lee was clearly at the disadvantage. His vulnerability showed.
Admiral Nelson looked at his Captain and realized he was standing looking down. He turned to look for a chair and purposely swung one around to the side of the desk. He sat down facing Crane. This way they were on the same level and had nothing between them. "Lee, I don't know yet exactly why you asked me to come here, but I have a good idea and if it's what I think it is, then for this next while there's no rank here. This is just you and I."
"Aye, sir." Crane continued, as usual, to address him as a senior officer even when talking as friends, then he started to speak, "Admiral, … sir … "
Nelson interrupted raising his hand slightly, "Please give me a moment, Lee." He paused to emphasize the switch from officer to friend. Then he continued, "I am sorry, Lee. I didn't consider you. I made assumptions and decisions that completely overrode your health and your wellbeing."
Crane looked mortified. Nelson had completely disarmed him. "Admiral, I'm the one to be sorry. I didn't appreciate your planning, or value your reasoning. I wasn't thinking of the mission."
"Lee, I should never have put you in that position. You shouldn't be thinking about any missions right now or for some time to come." Nelson eyed Crane warily, "You are angry at me?"
Crane looking away nodded and said a bit bitterly, "Yes."
"Tell me."
Crane glancing back at the Admiral became very serious, vulnerable, and open. "Admiral, I … I am so angry … yes, with you, but that's just a bit of it. I'm angry I didn't stop them before they took the boat. I'm angry Paulson is dead. I'm angry you were held captive on your own sub. I'm angry that Chip feels guilty for his brilliant manoeuver just because my arm is broken. I … I'm consumed by rage … absolute fury … at myself … because I failed in my duty to protect this crew, this boat … "
Crane looked away from the Admiral not meeting his eyes, unable to plumb let alone articulate the depths of his shame for his screams, the suffering he knew that caused the Admiral, " … to protect you." Crane was visibly shaking with the anger he was describing; he paused for a long moment, took a deep breath and gave a shuddering sigh. "And I'm angry that I have to continue this mission as I am."
Crane paused, looked directly at Nelson and continued with another sigh, "Yes, I'm angry at you for your part in that … but … I focussed all my anger at you. That wasn't right or fair." He paused then, "Admiral, I don't want to be at odds with you."
"Lee, consider that done." Nelson, in his usual way after a disagreement, dismissed it, forgot it, and held no grievance, ready to move forward.
Crane looked completely exhausted, shoulders sagging.
Nelson for this once was the fatherly Admiral that many a troubled sailor had seen. "Lee, that's so much to be dealing with. What's happened is part of your life now." Nelson paused, "It was real. The damage is real. The anger is real. Right now you need that anger. Feel it for a while, while you feel weak … are weak … use that anger to fuel your resolve to get through the next hour, the next day. Then, when you are stronger, strong enough in yourself, and you will be strong again, you won't need the anger so much."
Lee nodded wordlessly, not looking at him.
They both sat in silence a few moments. Nelson looking at his troubled Captain realized there was something more. "Lee, I don't think that's all that is bothering you?"
In that moment, something happened. What Nelson saw was Lee suddenly crumbling, his head dropping into his hands in despair, a man completely overwhelmed and shattered. On seeing that, a flash of insight dawned on Nelson. In that sinking posture of bleak brokenness, Lee had just given him a priceless gift, the acknowledgement of a long felt, but unspoken, brotherhood.
At some point during the course of their friendship, unnoticed by Nelson, Lee had claimed him as brother also. Nelson had not realized until this moment that the kinship he felt and openly admitted to some, but never to Lee, was reciprocated. Lee had always been so careful to acknowledge the difference in rank, to maintain naval protocol of address and formality even in friendship. Lee had disguised the commitment, the kinship, hiding it from all, even from him.
Now he knew. He knew because the raw vulnerability of Lee's posture declared it. This was brotherhood. A life-altering revelation for Nelson and Lee hadn't said a single word yet of what the trouble was.
"Admiral, I … I loathe myself … I … I gave up."
Nelson was startled at such an admission. He waited. Lee hadn't given up. There had to be something else. Lee was absolutely silent, bleak and despondent. Then in abject unmasked mortification Lee finally admitted, as to a trusted brother, the thing that had robbed him of self-respect and confidence, tormented him unceasingly as the ultimate humiliation and defeat. "I screamed..."
It was heart wrenching to hear this from the man who withstood hours of physical battering. Who had known what the enemy wanted, had what was wanted, and never tried to buy relief.
This devastation of spirit was beyond what he had anticipated. Nelson was silenced. The Captain was responsible for the wellbeing of his crew but in this moment Nelson was responsible for the wellbeing of his Captain. Despite his own struggles with what had happened that pushed him to urgent reckless action, Nelson must take a different lead now. For once he didn't have any of his usual fatherly advice ready to dispense for the circumstance. He needed to consider.
After a pause for thought he decided to take a longer route than his usual ones. He asked, "Lee, what did Foley want?"
Lee couldn't answer, his head buried in his hands in defeat, shame, and misery.
Realizing this Nelson continued, "Don't try to tell me. I'll tell you. He wanted information about your mission. Your mission, not mine." Nelson paused to make sure Lee was listening. "Who had that information? You did, only you." Nelson paused, then continued, "Who was being savagely brutalized in there? You were … just you." Nelson again paused briefly, "Foley didn't get what he wanted because you didn't give that up. You didn't give up."
It wasn't enough. Lee's posture and shaking head said that. Nelson paused working his way carefully. Now he needed to address the real issue.
"Lee, you did scream. You kept quiet to help me and maybe you feel that screaming was giving up on that; that you stopped helping me. But you needed help too. You took the brunt of their hatred in your own body for too long. When you cried out you were telling us all finally that you needed help yourself.
Lee, because you did, the men heard you and reported to Chip. Chip told me The Slip was still an hour away, but he ordered it immediately on the basis of that report. You would have died if you hadn't screamed. We couldn't rescue each other. We needed the crew of the Seaview to do that. You told them to rescue us immediately or it would be too late. You saved your own life by screaming."
Nelson stopped, Lee was sitting completely still as if frozen. That hadn't done it.
Nelson came to the hardest part, the sense of failure, worthlessness, and agonizing shame. "Lee, there are no rules, no SOP, no naval academy standards or guidelines that can actually help you when you are under torture. Each person facing that has to find their own way."
He paused to choose his words, "I think … I think of necessity you set your own standard. A standard about something unrelated to the information they wanted, so you had something safe to focus on. You set a standard … to not scream … and ultimately couldn't meet it."
Nelson was very quiet and careful, "I think … it is your pride that is hurt."
He paused again as he was treading very delicately now. "If I can offer a tiny piece of advice to you, to you the man who distinguished himself in a desperate situation without guidance, or help, or hope of survival, if I can presume to offer advice to a man of such stature … it would be … to give yourself a break. You had to give up something to survive; you picked the right thing to give up on. You kept the information safe, and you got us rescued in time to live. If you are torturing yourself now because you screamed, please stop. There's been more than enough torture on this boat already."
Fearing he had now gone too far and said too much, Nelson stopped talking.
There was silence for a very long time. Then Lee sighed once heavily, hopelessly. Nelson wisely continued in silence just sitting with his friend. After another long while Lee lifted his head from his hands and rested his forearms on his knees. It was the first sign of something other than abject despair. They sat together in silence a while longer.
When Lee finally shifted, and sat up a little bit straighter. Nelson spoke again into the silence taking the blame, "You need time and with this mission I stole that time from you … "
Lee interrupted him, finally saying something, "No, Admiral, you and everyone aboard gave me time … a future."
Lee coughed and speaking with a roughened voice, in a dé·jà vu moment, said something Nelson had heard once before. "Admiral, I'm not … I'm not fit to carry out this mission."# Crane was right then, and he was right now.
In contriving to get Crane's orders altered to supersede medical orders, to carry out the mission regardless, Nelson had placed an impossible and crushing demand on him, a demand that broke his already despairing spirit. If he used the wrong tone now, said the wrong thing, demanded one more thing of the Captain in this moment he could shatter Lee beyond repair.
Lee had his life but his drive, his passion, his self-respect and assurance were fragmented, they needed healing as much as his body did. Get this wrong and Lee could walk away from Seaview and his service here irreparably crushed, leave the sea that he loved behind, take up some other second-best career.
Nelson was as terrified of losing Lee right now as at any time in the past week. It would be a different kind of loss but just as devastating. If he lost him now it would be to a life lived at less than his potential. Nelson trembled at the thought and knew he would never be able to forgive himself for such a disservice to his friend.
Lee could never be what he was before, like potter's clay fired in a kiln, he was changed forever, but if in time he could find his strength he could be more, he didn't have to be less.
Nelson's voice was gentle, "I know that, Lee." He paused then continued, "None of us think you should have to do this. I know … I … I'm the one who forced this on you."
He stopped, sighed deeply; facing a truth he had hidden from himself. "I told Chip the reason the mission is still secure was because Foley disregarded you and disregarded your value. But in this I have disregarded you. I had no right to even ask it of you and I didn't ask. I demanded it, arranged the order to ensure it, gave you no choice. I am sorry.
You're not the only one who is angry with me over this. Just about every man aboard is looking daggers at me. I will help you however I can. The men will help you. All of us will do what we can to get you through this mission."
Nelson considered. Lee had just so inadvertently given him the unbelievable … brotherhood. He wanted to offer Lee something as well. He didn't know why Lee would never use his first name but perhaps Lee didn't want to assume a right, was waiting for permission. "Lee, my friends call me Harry. Why don't you give that a try sometime?"
Lee shook his head. It wasn't possible. "No, sir, … Admiral, I'm very sorry, sir, but I couldn't."
"Maybe you could … someday." Nelson paused seeing that Lee was sagging with fatigue. "Someday. But first..."
"Sir?"
"Let's get you to bed." Crane scoffed weakly then coughed. The tension was broken. Nelson stood and helped the Captain up from his chair. With the worst of the mental strain ebbing Nelson suddenly felt as awful as Lee looked.
As he saw Lee struggling to unbutton his shirt he gave him a hand. He found his own hands trembling as he fumbled with the buttons. Then he had his first glimpse of what was under that shirt. He covered his shocked dismay well by turning to the door and saying, "Uh, Lee, I'll just get your corpsman for you." Although he was there to see the injuries inflicted, had knelt at Crane's side amidst the sweat, vomit, and blood, he had been focussed on the immediate suffering, the agony, hadn't truly registered the injuries themselves. Now he had seen just a fraction of them and was appalled at his own presumption on Lee's recuperation.
As Brand came in, Nelson bid Lee good night and as he turned to leave the cabin he looked at Brand and said, "You might get him well settled please. He's been navigating turbulent seas and needs a calm harbour tonight."
Brand glanced at the Skipper, standing there rudderless, almost unaware of them. "Aye, aye, sir."
As the Admiral walked out of the cabin, Brand turned to help the Captain. The Skipper was silent, too overwhelmed and fatigued to talk, so exhausted he swayed and staggered as Brand got him to bed. Brand wondered what was said between them.
Nelson walked away, hand in pocket, rubbing his chin in deep thought. He realized that he was shaking. The friendship was salvaged, and he had a brother, but he didn't know yet if he had ultimately lost Lee as the Seaview's captain or not.
He felt everything he said was inadequate. Lee should be proud but instead felt only the shame of failure and defeat.
He pondered, second-guessing what he should have said. Should he have reiterated what he said to Lee just before Doc sedated him? He had told Lee there was no reason to be sorry, that he was proud of him. But Lee would probably never remember those words. He had been busy shaking hands with death at the time. Almost lost to them.
Despite the second-guessing, the worry, the ongoing fears Nelson exalted. He had a brother. His brother in so much history together, his brother in the horror they had just gone through. But their suffering was not the same, to a degree he had not imaged or foreseen, much of Lee's suffering started with their rescue.
The next day after much thought, Nelson conferred with the Doctor. It was a long, confidential, troubled discussion with many aspects to consider. Both men were in agreement with the goals if not yet on the ways and means. They agreed to ponder and then decide soon on a course of action.
* The City Beneath the Sea
# The Saboteur