1825 Hours

Jef Verhaegen had the teapot in his hand when the Léopoldville was hit, and he went on holding it, full and scalding, the whole time the officers' saloon emptied around him.

He hadn't let go of it. He noticed that later, much later, as something shameful and funny: the ship had jumped under his feet, the cups had flown off the shelves, the big mirror at the far end had split from top to bottom, two officers had stood up so fast their chairs went over, and he, Jef, mess steward since 1942, had kept the teapot level so he wouldn't spill a drop on the tablecloth. That was what he'd been taught. You don't spill the tea.