“You are never satisfied, Comrade Captain. I suppose it is men like you who force progress upon us all.”
men who cursed the inability of their country to build submarines worthy of their skills;
In the Soviet Navy there were three routes to advancement. A man could become a zampolit and be a pariah among his peers. Or he could be a navigation officer and advance to his own command. Or he could be shunted into a specialty in which he would gain rank and pay—but never command. Thus a chief engineer on a Soviet naval vessel could outrank his commanding officer and still be his subordinate.
Melekhin, the chief engineer and Ramius’ equal in rank, had never been allowed the route to command simply because his superiors wanted him to be an engineer.
The only people Ryan needed to impress were those who knew him; he cared little for the rest. He had no ambition to celebrity.
intelligence types giving answers when they didn’t even know the questions. Ryan was still new enough to the game that when he didn’t know, he said so. Greer wondered if that would change in time. He hoped not.
“That was good, quick action you took, Lieutenant.” “Thank you, sir. I was lucky.” “Good officer’s supposed to be lucky.
Ryan had not been part of this scheme, but presidents have been known to spoil many carefully laid plans.
reactor spaces, a hospital operating room was a den of libertines.
“Yes, sir.” It never hurt to call officers sir, Jones knew. Especially the dumb ones.