Yashimoto's Last Dive

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The clouds obscured the moon and for that he was thankful; it was no friend to a submarine running on the surface. As it was, the darkness was broken by no more than tumbling flashes of phosphorescence along the sides as I-357’s bows sliced through the sea. The only sounds of the night were the mechanical clatter of diesels, occasional squeaks from the revolving aerial abaft the periscope standards, and the splash and swish of broken water. Whatever conversation there might have been earlier, there was none now that the Captain had come up. Taciturn, crop-haired, bearded like the rest of the crew, Commander Togo Yashimoto was a strict disciplinarian whose views were well known: the survival of I-357 and all who served in her hung upon a slender thread of vigilance; conversation unrelated to duty diminished vigilance; for these reasons it was, as he emphasized in his standing order book, a most serious breach of discipline.

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