1500, June 9, Port Admiral’s headquarters, Cromarty Firth
Captain Herrick stood in his full dress uniform at the entrance to the Port Admiral’s office. His hands were still in the white gloves, and the dress sword was still buckled on his right side. He spent a minute controlling his temper, and then marched inside the office.
The clerk at the desk quickly recognized the cuff rings and shoulder boards of a full captain in the Royal Navy. His eyes bulged at the dress sword.
“May I please speak with the Port Admiral?” The voice was civil and measured. The eyes were not.
“Ssir, Commander Jennkinss is handdling the Addmiral’s bussiness.” The sight of a senior captain in full dress and with his temper barely under control frightened the clerk. He quickly decided that any delays would be a bad idea.
“Very Well.”
The young clerk led Captain Herrick down the hall and to a large office. The clerk knocked on the door. “Commander Jenkins, there is a Captain to see you sir.”
“Come in.”
Captain Herrick opened the door and marched in. Commander Jenkins sat at his desk in an exquisitely tailored uniform. He saw no surprise at Herrick’s appearance. After all, those who were exalted enough to be in his presence should wear nothing less.
“Is it a standing order that commanders do not salute superior officers?” The rebuke’s delivery in a mild tone only added to it’s power. Jenkins snapped a surly salute and remained in his chair.
“I have orders to take Benbow to Scapa Flow. I have come to request a suitable escort of four destroyers.”
“That is impossible, Captain.”
“Why?”
“The Port Admiral has left orders placing me in charge during his absence. I do not have four destroyers to spare. Perhaps you could take Benbow to Scapa alone.” His voice dripped contempt. Jenkins was a petty man who enjoyed using the power of his office to humble those above him.
“Commander Jenkins, you have denied my request for destroyers three times, correct?” Jenkins nodded. “You are acting on your own authority, correct?” Jenkins nodded again. “There are five modern destroyers sitting in the firth, yet all destroyers are currently unavailable?” Jenkins nodded again. Yet another powerful man had been humbled before him.
“You also have asserted that I should take my ship to Scapa unescorted, correct?” Jenkins nodded for a fourth time. “Perhaps you have not heard of Audacious or Thunderer? Do Formidable, Triumph, or Majestic ring a bell?” Jenkins nodded again.
“All were sunk by submarines. I have just buried my Gunnery Officer, and fifty others from my ship. I have visited grieving widows and orphaned children. I will not bury the rest of them because you refuse to give me four destroyers.” Herrick’s voice had rose. Surely he will get the hint. Any commander picking a fight with any senior captain deserves whatever happens to him.
Jenkins clung to the last vestiges of his power. This captain was not behaving the way he was supposed to. Jenkins tried to put him into his place again. “No.”
One of Fisher’s reforms was to remove cutlass drill from a naval officer’s education. Even before that, the Naval Officer’s traditional sidearm had been relegated to obsolescence. The dress sword was for show, not for use. It was relegated to dramatic gestures. While Captain Robert Herrick had not taken cutlass drill, his father, William, the 13th Earl Herrick, had. William had made sure to remedy that flaw in his son’s education.
The dress sword came out of the sheath and into Herrick’s gloved hand in one quick motion. A second move placed the tip directly below Jenkins’ chin. “Do I have your attention now, Commander?” Jenkins gave a weak nod.
“Good. It is time to remedy your education. Have you heard of Vice-Admiral John Benbow?” From Jenkins’ stare, it was clear he hadn’t. “Benbow was the commander of the West Indies Squadron in 1702. In a battle with the French, his ship was badly damaged and he was mortally wounded. He died because four of his captains deserted him. I will be damned before you let four captains abandon his namesake again!”
Jenkins wilted under the force of the of Herrick’s voice and blade. “If anything happens because of your insubordination and your stupidity, you will lose more than your career.” Herrick calmly delivered his threat. He could tell from Jenkins’ eyes that the message had finally gotten through. He would have his destroyers.
Herrick calmly returned his dress sword to its scabbard, executed a crisp about face, and marched out.
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by Rob Herrick
