The Winds of War (The Henry Family, #1)

by Herman Wouk

dry-rotted incompetence,

card, slid under their cabin door shortly before dinner, invited them to the captain’s table. They debated whether Pug should wear a uniform, and decided against it. The guess turned out to be correct. A German submarine officer at the table, a man as short and as taciturn as Victor Henry, wore a brown business

so shattered if I refuse, but I really can hardly dance, and as for the Lindy Hop—” The music struck up again, and Rhoda’s tall young officer approached in spotless white and gold. An irritated look crossed Pug’s face. The captain saw it, and under the loud music, as the officer drew near, he muttered half a dozen words. The young man stopped, faded back, and darted out of the saloon. Pug never saw

doping the animals, conspiring to block the best horses or injure their riders: only such devices turned the Palio into

marchers

laughed. “All civilians are the same.” Tudsbury said, “Well, in my next broadcast I’ll have to say that the U-boat command

impressive men like his father, but more were glad-handers with worried eyes, phony smiles, and soft bellies. His father’s ambition,

opened up

it would be. Despite the absence of surprise, he was excited and moved. In the library he switched on the radio, which seemed to take a long time to warm up, and opened the french windows. Birds sang in the sunny garden, whence a mild breeze, passing through a red-flowering shrub at the window, brought in a heavy sweet odor. The radio hummed and

silly hoax for childish minds. Victor Henry was getting used to Berlin Radio’s foggy mixture of facts and lies, but the contempt of the Nazis for the intelligence of the Germans could still surprise him. The propaganda had certainly achieved one aim—to muffle the impact of the new war. Rhoda came yawning in, tying her negligee, and cocking her head at the radio. “Well! So he really

people caught in Germany; a lot of lives might depend on appropriate American conduct at this touchy moment toward the

“Well, I don’t think

worst of

Look, all I meant was—” Byron hesitated because what he had meant was that he was having fun. “It’s just such a stupid,

whether the President

guess there’s a war on of sorts,

it was “grease.” Men who possessed it had a way of climbing fast; they also had a way of relying upon it, till they got too greasy and slipped. “I wish she’d show some of these 4.0 qualities at school. I don’t appreciate the idea of a nineteen-year-old girl loose in New York.” “Well, sir, I don’t mean to argue with you, but Washington’s no

two or three o’clock in the morning there?” Brown said. “Two, sir.” “Want to break in on Rhoda’s beauty sleep, Pug?” “I think so.” The lieutenant carefully rolled his napkin in a monogrammed ring, and left. The talk turned to Germany and the war. These battleship officers, like most people,

number doesn’t answer.” The eyes of Digger Brown and Victor Henry met for a moment. Brown said, “At two in the morning? Better try again. Sounds like a foul-up.” “We put it through three times, sir.” “She might have gone out of town,” Henry said. “Don’t bother anymore. Thanks.” The lieutenant left. Digger puffed thoughtfully

profundity. “How long

playing under the bombs, these dogged

had the chance

neutral refugees would cross unescorted from the Polish to the German lines, heading for the farthest church, where Wehrmacht

me. I must be crazy. I never once pictured that anything like this would happen. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that Roosevelt would fly us out in Army planes. Something like that. I’ve never been so goddamned scared in my life. We’re going to the Germans. The Germans.” “Put that in your bag,” Byron said, tossing a worn black book to him as

only two or three kerchiefed,

in black uniforms entered the waiting room. Conversation died among the Americans and the cheery noise faded

roster to Slote. “Very

parents looked at each other. “I get famished just talking about it,” Byron said. He was describing the startling feast laid out by the Germans in the Klovno railroad station. “And there was another spread just like it when we got to Kônigsberg. They’ve been stuffing us ever since on the train. I don’t know where it all goes to. I think in Warsaw I must have

But catch the New

with its

this bad?” The brothers were deeply estranged—Natalie did not know exactly why—and this breaking of their long tacit silence about her father gave her an awkward, unpleasant sensation. “No, not really. The trouble was my announcement that I was in love with Leslie. Papa got awfully weak

abruptly walked

President Roosevelt’s question remained unanswered. He could see on Gianelli’s pale, baffled face the same impression.

believe in hiding what they’ve got. I think of Warsaw, and I get angry, but it passes. They’re no different,

father seriously at about the age of twelve; he was just a businessman, a sweater manufacturer, a temple president, and she

the money

an idealized

Germans, combined with

everything else

afford to wait?”

changed very little, altogether,

He’s only got till the

bomb damage in

to the apartment, Fearing remarked, catching Pug alone for a moment in the hallway, “Aren’t you the sly one, Reverend Henry? She’s small, but saucy.” “She’s the daughter of a guy I know.” “Of course. Talky Tudsbury. Old pal of mine, too.” “Yes. That’s who she is. Her fiancé’s an RAF pilot missing in action.” Fearing’s big knobby

struggle with star tables,

off. The piping voice of the rear gunner broke in to report searchlights far astern, off to the right. At almost the same moment, the pilots saw, and pointed out to Victor Henry, a large fire on the horizon ahead: a yellow blotch flickering on the moonlit plain. After some crisp talk on the intercom, Lieutenant Killian swung the plane around and headed for the

won’t you?” “Damn

holdings in America. What comes next?

as a minister’s wife.” He came to the kitchen and watched her prepare the tea. Palmer Kirby liked to watch her move around, and his eyes on her made Rhoda feel young and fetching. They sat at a low table in the sunshine and she decorously poured tea and passed him buttered bread. The picture could not have

today.” It was a small gathering at Abendruh, with no staircase slide. Pug was sorry that Ernst Grobke didn’t see the crude elaborate joke, so much to the Teutonic taste. The submariner obviously was ill at ease, and could have used the icebreaker. The other men were a Luftwaffe general and a high official in the foreign