Free HMS Diamond by Tom Grundner Page B

The city fathers of Toulon had decided that the warehouse was their property. While they had no use for its contents, still, the goods contained therein would be sold to the Royal Navy, not simply pillaged. Admiral Hood agreed and, diplomat that he was, managed to stop short of asking where the money would be going.
           Hood did manage to elicit one concession, however. He insisted that Royal Navy pursers and seamen operate the warehouse and conduct the sales. This was to make sure that the ships got the right items for their needs, he argued. In fact, what it did was to insure that the goods got sold at laughable prices.
           It took a moment for Walker and Susan to adjust their eyes to the darker confines of the warehouse. When they did, they saw a cavernous building stuffed to the ceiling with maritime supplies of all description. To one side several piles were growing as runners made their way back and forth filling orders. In front, several counters had been set up, each with a line of men in front of it. Several lines seemed to contain only seamen. Several others looked to be the turf of warrant officers, and another group was clearly for officers. Walker joined the officer line because it seemed like it was getting better service, although technically he was only a warrant officer.
           "May I ‘elp ya, sir?" The clerk intoned.
           "Yes, I am Dr. Lucas Walker off of HMS..." he stopped for a split second. The Swallow was not HMS anything. She was not even a Royal Navy ship. She was privately owned and it suddenly occurred to him, he shouldn’t even be in here.
           "I am off the Swallow ." He said without lying. "I was wondering if our French cousins were good enough to leave us any medical supplies?"
           "Ya’re a surgeon, ‘re ya?" The clerk asked cocking his head and scratching his beard in doubt.
           "No, sir. I am a physician ." Walker replied trying to sound as haughty as he could. He was a "real" doctor, as the men would put it; and they would feel lucky to serve aboard any ship that had one. They were unaware that most of the universities with medical programs had no particular graduation requirements, and a few didn’t even require you to attend any classes.
           "I am DR. Walker," he continued.
           "Never ‘eard of the swalla." The man intoned in a high nasal voice.
           "She’s newly acquired; and we just got in this morning." Walker was not lying on either point. The Swallow was newly acquired; it’s just she had not been acquired by the Royal Navy. Not yet anyway.
           The clerk finally seemed to make up his mind.
           "Sorry for askin’, sir. But, we been told ter be extra careful wif medical gear. There’s them what would like ter get into sum medical supplies for their own porposes... if ya kna wot I mean."
           "That’s all right. I quite understand," Walker placated the man and then continued. "What I need is a complete medical and surgical kit. We got underway in such a rush that there was no time for me to ship mine aboard. All I have is my travel kit."
           The clerk thought for a moment as if trying to decide something. "I fin’ I can ‘elp ya out in grand style, doctor," he announced triumphantly.
           The clerk disappeared into the warehouse and came back a few minutes later struggling with the weight of a massive wooden box.
           "I been savin’ this for the right bloke ter come along, sir. It’s British made, I think. The chuffin’ frogs must ‘ave captured it somewheres."
           Walker could not hide his astonishment at the object before him. It was a large trunk made of beautifully finished oak with large ornate brass carrying handles on each end, and brass protective plates on each corner. On top were three delicately hand-carved seashells, the shells on the left and right were raised above the wood surface, and the one in