Up Periscope

---

And in accordance with my orders

to remain undetected,

stayed on bottom additional six hours

after sonar reported convoy had passed

in order to ensure

not being sighted or detected

by possible trailing destroyer.

Ford, James A, Seaman First Class,

badly injured by accident

in forward torpedo room.

Paul Stevenson. Commander, US Navy.

That water's cold.

Cold. Cold water, warm heart.

Who said warm? It's a fire.

That's a pure chemical reaction, lady.

One part you, one part me.

You put the two together...

I see what you mean.

Is that what they train you for

at Underwater Demolition School?

That's classified information.

Let's you and I get back

to tactical maneuvers on dry land.

What's the matter,

don't you want to learn about strategy?

No, Ken, it isn't that. It's just that...

Well, something just happens

and suddenly I feel

all the fight going out of me.

That's good.

Ken, we've only known each other a week.

And two days.

All right. A week and two days.

And yet I feel I really don't know

anything about you at all.

I'm classified information, too.

Kenneth M. Braden, Lieutenant JG,

United States Navy.

246772. Name, rank and serial number.

And where have you been

all my young, lonely life?

I'm beginning to wonder.

It isn't like there wasn't a war.

Other people make up your mind for you.

You're being trained.

But for what? Where do you go and when?

Questions, questions, questions.

- You know what I think?

- What?

You talk too much.

You don't mind that song following us,

do you?

- Have enough to eat?

- It was delicious.

- Like the wine?

- Delicious.

- Sally.

- Yes, Ken.

You had enough to eat?

Delicious.

And so was the wine and I love that song.

Good.

You know the beach maneuvers

I was using this afternoon?

Well, I wasn't trying to establish

just any old beachhead.

What are you trying to say, Ken?

Well, I guess I don't say it very well.

Well, you spend a lot of sleepless nights

rehearsing the words

and picking just the right time

and the right place,

then when you get there it's...

Well, all I'm trying to say is

I love you. I want to marry you.

I say something wrong?

No.

You didn't say anything wrong.

I just don't know what to think.

You're not supposed to think

at a time like this.

You're just supposed to say yes.

- Dance with me, Ken, before I start to cry.

- Sure.

I just didn't know

you were gonna be so upset.

Well, it isn't every day

a girl gets proposed to.

It isn't every day I ask a girl to marry me.

And maybe I'm kidding myself.

Maybe I'm the only one

who feels this way.

- Don't say that.

- What else can I say?

You see? I don't have to say anything.

You say it all yourself

without ever having to speak a word.

It isn't what you think.

You don't tell me what you think.

If I told you that I loved you, too?

That isn't saying you'll marry me.

- What's going on?

- Are you Lieutenant Braden?

- That's right.

- I'm getting your gear out.

Got orders to get you packed

and out to the airport.

You sure you got the right Braden?

One "N" in Braden?

- Two "N's" in Kenneth?

- That's right.

Narrows the field considerably, doesn't it?

- Hey, I got time for a phone call?

- I'm sorry, sir.

No calls. Skipper's orders.

No smoking.

Pearl Harbor in five minutes.

Fasten safety belts.

Hey.

Seatbelt.

Lieutenant JG Kenneth Braden, reporting.

Just a moment, Lieutenant.

- Yes.

- Lieutenant Braden is here, Captain.

- Send him in, please.

- Yes, sir.

- All right, you can go in.

- Thanks.

Lieutenant. Sit down.

Thank you, sir.

- How was your flight from California?

- Very good, sir.

Do you have any idea why you're here?

Well, the duty officer

at Underwater Demolition School

tapped me on the shoulder

and next thing I know

I'm on a plane to Pearl.

Surprised?

It's a volunteer outfit, sir.

I realize they were gonna call on me

sooner or later.

I just wish it had been later.

On account of the girl?

The girl?

Sally Johnson.

- You know her?

- No.

You met her about a week ago.

"A week and two days."

- Give or take an hour or two.

- "It started out routine.

"Dinner, a couple of drinks, dancing.

Took her to the beach, swimming.

"Then the usual beach maneuvers.

Proposed."

You proposed again. You got tapped.

Now you're here.

- You look confused, Lieutenant.

- I am, sir.

Simple. Security screening.

Miss Johnson works for

the Office of Naval Intelligence.

You were her assignment.

Coffee?

No, thank you, sir.

Other members of your class

were screened, too,

but Miss Johnson's report

made you top man.

- She classified me 1A?

- You might say that.

That's fine.

I've fallen in love with a girl

and she's sending in a...

Must've had a lot of fun.

I don't think so. She fell in love, too.

Was that in the report?

Reports are pretty complete, Lieutenant.

Nobody in this war has an easy job.

Supply has all your gear ready.

You pick it up.

Be at Pier 5 tomorrow

and report to Captain Stevenson

aboard the Barracuda.

- Is that all, sir?

- Yes.

- Good luck.

- Thank you very much, sir.

- Glenn.

- Yes, sir.

- Is Captain Stevenson still here?

- No, sir.

He went over to Naval Hospital

with Seaman Ford's wife, sir.

He's dead.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Oh, no.

No, no.

Yeah!

Oh, brother,

that Malone sure swings a mean rudder.

- Come on, Peck, drink it up.

- Sure. I'll drink to Ford.

- Why don't you knock it off?

- Easy.

Shove off, Floyd.

I still say you don't sit your tail

on the bottom

as long as we did

after that convoy passed.

I say if we left, Ford would still be living.

So the skipper played it safe.

What are you worrying about?

You got back.

I might be Ford some day.

You all might.

Go ahead, drink your drink. Forget it.

- Maybe you can. I can't.

- Me, neither.

And I got news for you, Chief,

a lot of the other guys feel the same way.

You know, argue, argue.

That's all you guys do is argue.

- You all blame it on the skipper?

- Who else?

You don't think laying there

breathing in all that stinking air

did Ford any good, do you?

Right, Ash?

Maybe. I don't know.

You mean, not bringing him up

topside sooner wouldn't have helped?

Might have.

Well, putting him on a plane

and getting him back to Pearl

wouldn't have helped save his life?

Look, how do I know?

I'm only a pharmacist mate,

not God.

Oh, come on, Billy.

Let's have some fun here.

Come on, drink it up.

That Malone sure swings a mean rudder.

Long distance.

Long distance,

I want to place a person-to-person call

to Miss Sally Johnson

in San Diego, California, please.

I'm sorry, sir.

Unless you have a military priority,

there are no long distance calls

going through to the States

- for the next 24 hours.

- 24 hours?

- Operator, there's a war on.

- Do tell.

There's nothing I can do about it.

Yeah, yeah.

Scotch, please.

- Encore!

- Encore!

- You promised to dance with me next.

- No, sweethearts.

No argument.

It shall be as I said, but not now.

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