To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill. —Sun Tzu When Captain H. Butler Spiers, the commanding officer of Naval Base Norfolk, got home after McKiernan’s brief he poured himself a glass of Jack Daniel’s, added one ice cube and, still wearing his coat, went out onto the enclosed porch of his quarters. The temp was about fifty, and there was a breeze. The lights of the base made the overcast glow. He lit a cigar to go with the whiskey. He knew what he was going to do, although he had refused to admit it to himself. When he had told Admiral McKiernan he wanted leave because his daughter was going to have a baby, he had been a wee bit less than honest. His daughter lived in an apartment complex just a few blocks from the community college where her husband was a history instructor. In Norfolk. Spiers was never going to make admiral, and he knew it. Command of NB Norfolk was the final tour of a thirty-year career that had started in minesweepers. He then went to destroyers and after commanding one had been chief of staff for an admiral.
