He finds himself, with a serious head injury from a fall, at Pearl Harbor Base Hospital on May 16, 1942, three weeks before the Battle of Midway. His wife and aide, Lieutenant Meg Fenton, is frantic, and waits for him—in 2018. Admiral Harry is the commanding officer of Carrier Strike Group 14 in 2018, but the people in 1942 think he’s a busted up, hallucinating sailor who imagines himself an admiral.
Admiral Raymond Spruance is commanding officer of Carrier Task Force 16. After hearing about Harry’s wild claims, Spruance orders him brought to his flagship, the USS Enterprise. After Harry tells him about time travel, Spruance is convinced the man is insane. But after speaking to him at length, Spruance is amazed at Harry’s knowledge of naval tactics and strategy. He calls Harry’s bluff and orders him to stay aboard the Enterprise for her upcoming engagement at the Battle of Midway.By the end of the battle, Spruance thinks of Harry Fenton as a friend, and even calls him “admiral.”
Now Harry needs to figure out how to travel back to 2018, to his carrier command, but most importantly, to the love of his life, Lieutenant Meg.
Chapter 1 Excerpt
“Here, drink this,” the nurse said. “You’re not taking in enough liquids.”Good idea, I thought. I was thirsty as hell. I downed the glass of water in two gulps. But where am I? I wondered. Well, in a hospital obviously, but why?“Excuse me,” I said, speaking loudly because the nurse was about to leave the room. The act of raising my voice caused a lightning bolt of pain to zing through my head. My eyes went blurry and I felt nauseous. She turned around and walked back to my bed. She held up a mirror. Holy shit, I looked like I collided head-on with a train. My forehead was swollen and my face was discolored, a pretty mix of purple, red, yellow, and could that be green?
“Where am I? I know it’s a hospital, but where?”
“You’re at the base hospital at Pearl Harbor.”Pearl Harbor? Sounds familiar, I thought.“Please explain what happened to me.”
“You were in Building 19, God knows why, and you apparently tripped and slammed your head against an engine block. Pretty stupid of them to put an engine block in the middle of the floor if you ask me. The place has no electricity and the windows are boarded up. From what the shore patrol guy said, it seems that you walked off a step to a lower level and fell forward, resulting in what you just saw in the mirror.” You’ve been here exactly one week. I’m glad to see that you’re talking. This is the first sign of consciousness you’ve shown. You had one nasty concussion. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course. Could I please have some more water?”
“You can have as much water as you want. So, let me ask you a couple of questions. Who are you, and what’s your name?”
Oh, my God. My head started throbbing again. I could not believe I couldn’t answer her simple question—and it was a good question. Who am I?
“I’m sorry. I don’t recall a name. But things are starting to come back to me.”
“Well, sailor, you’re doing great, my friend. We’ll just keep talking, and your memory will come back to you.”
“Nancy, please hand me that newspaper.”“Sure thing. Let’s see how your reading skills are doing.”
The date on the first page read May 16, 1942. Shit, I must be hallucinating.“Hey, sailor, you look pale. Do you want to rest a bit?”
I dozed off. When I woke up, Nurse Nancy was there.
“So, sailor, do you recall being in the Navy?”
“Yes, I’m in the Navy.” My memory was starting to come back.
“Are you stationed on a ship?”
“Yes, definitely yes. The USS Gerald R. Ford, an aircraft carrier. It’s my flagship.”
“Yes, I’m Rear Admiral Harry Fenton, the Commanding Officer of Carrier Strike Group 14.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Admiral. My name is Florence Nightingale. Now get some more sleep, sailor.”