Pre-Order Now Available -- The Submarine & The Spies, Free Excerpt
Here's a preview and free excerpt from my new book
Enjoy this free excerpt from my new novel, The Submarine & The Spies. You can pre-order now. The book is set to release on May 4. Books launch better when there are pre-orders on Amazon, so your pre-order purchase goes a long way. It’s great for Mother’s Day or Father’s Day gifts.
Over the next few years, my mission is to publish several different types of books about the American Revolution to prepare Americans for America’s 250th birthday in 2026. With all that is going on in our culture, I’m concerned that the spirit of 1776 will not be alive in 2026. I have a history mystery book coming out in June and am working on a children’s picture book about the first fireworks for independence. I’m taking this book to two conferences: The Classical Conversations National Conference in May and the Association of Classical Christian Schools Conference in June.
The Submarine and the Spies is fiction, a short novel. A more precise term is fictionalized history because all of the named people in the book were real. The Submarine and the Spies is a hero’s journey about three Yale graduates who give up their world of classical education, church bells, and football games to fight tyranny in the American Revolution. One fights underwater for the first time in warfare. Another fights on the battlefield and the other as an undercover spy. Nathan Hale, Benjamin Tallmadge, and David Bushnell will never be the same as the protect their homes in Connecticut and New York’s Long Island from the British.
The book includes a study for book clubs, teachers and parents who want to incorporate it into their classrooms or homeschools.
Introduction: A Man-Sized Turtle
David Bushnell, age twenty-nine, and his brother Ezra, age twenty-three, were thrilled to take a break from their farm in Saybrook, Connecticut, in July 1769. They went fishing on a speedy ship called a schooner, which had two masts for hoisting many sails for catching a good wind. Schooners also had plenty of room for storing hundreds of fish. David in particular loved the open water. He’d often visited docks and wharves to study the shapes and sizes of different ships.
In the schooner, David and Ezra swiftly sailed east from Long Island Sound past Rhode Island and Massachusetts. When they reached the Atlantic Ocean, they stopped to fish. A crew member soon noticed that their nets had caught something underwater.
The net was especially heavy when the crew tried to lift it. They must have caught a large number of fish, David thought.
“Let’s help,” Ezra suggested.
“I’m not sure I’ll make a contribution, but I’ll give it a go,” David replied as he and Ezra joined the ten-person crew while they tugged and tugged on the net.
Because he was short, slight, and sometimes sickly, David did not have the physical strength to be of much use to Ezra, who was strong and stout, on their farm. David was better at fixing things, such as broken tools. He preferred to read books than harvest wheat.
As David, Ezra, and the fishermen pulled the fishing net out of the water, they realized that they’d caught something quite different than a school of Atlantic codfish.
They’d caught a turtle. This wasn’t a tiny five-inch stinkpot turtle that let out a ghastly smell when threatened. No, this turtle was a giant sea turtle that weighed hundreds of pounds. Called a leatherback turtle, its white-spotted black skin was oily and leathery.
“Look at its flippers. They look like oars for a rowboat. They help him to dive and swim,” David said cheerfully. His mood instantly changed from being insecure about his physical strength into joy as he studied this creature.
“He must be six feet long,” David concluded as he marveled over the mechanics of this man-sized but God-made turtle.
What would it be like to move underwater like this large turtle? David wondered. If equipped with air, could a ship move under water for a short time?
“How does he breathe?” one of the fisherman asked.
“He has lungs like humans. When he is awake, he surfaces for air frequently but can go without air for a while when he’s asleep,” David replied.
“How do you know so much about turtles?” the fisherman asked.
“I borrowed a book from my pastor’s library,” David replied.
“David can tell you about many things and how they work,” Ezra chimed in. “My brother is a genius.”
“Did you go to Harvard?” the fisherman wondered. “Are you one of those college boys?”
David gulped. He was hardly a boy. He was age twenty-nine, but his short build and thin appearance made him look half his age. More than anything, he had wanted to go to college when he was sixteen but his father had needed him to work on the farm, especially during the French and Indian War in the 1750s when the economy was weak. Then after his father’s death in 1762, David felt obligated to run the farm. Ezra, however, was the more natural farmer.
“No, I have not been to college,” David said.
As the men untangled the net from the turtle’s flippers, Ezra pulled David aside near the rail of the ship and whispered.
“David, why don’t you go?” Ezra said.
“Go where?” David replied.
“To college. You’re a natural student.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can handle the farm. I’ll hire workers.”
David paused, thinking. “Reverend Devotion told me that Yale is expanding its studies of nature, but if I enrolled, I would be significantly older than the other students.”
“You are six years older than I am, but we get along well. Your life experience will give you an esteemed status,” Ezra countered.
“The entrance requirements are intimidating. Yale follows Greek philosopher Plato’s classical model of the trivium, which is grammar, logic, and rhetoric.”
“Reverend Devotion went to Yale. He can help you prepare and provide you with the books you need to read,” Ezra offered.
“I will think about it,” David said.
Soon the exhausted fishermen took pity on the trapped animal. They lowered the turtle back into the ocean.
David thought about how different human life on land was from sea life. Unlike the open-ended blue sky above, under water was a very different place. Plants, fish, and numerous sea creatures filled the ocean deep. Men and women could swim and dive underwater but they could not stay for long without losing oxygen. There must be way for a human to go underwater for a brief time in a ship.
David would never forget freeing that large turtle and his conversation with Ezra. He would soon embark on a fresh start and fulfill his dream.
1: For God, for Country, and for Yale
New Haven, Connecticut, October 1772
BONNNGGGG. BONNNGGGG.”
David Bushnell kept his eyes closed as he listened to the first two of four church bells ring for school that October morning in 1772 in New Haven, Connecticut. This would be a day he would never forget.
Unlike some of his new classmates, who dreaded hearing the bells at 4:30 a.m., David didn’t mind this daily wake up call for private prayer and chapel. After all, he had made his decision. He had traded waking up to the cock-a-doodle-doo of the rooster on his family’s farm to starting his day with the low, mellow tones of Yale College’s school bells.
BONNNGGGG. BONNNGGGG.
This time David opened his eyes from his bed inside his room in Connecticut Hall, which housed all of Yale’s students. David sat up. He yawned and tried to wake up fully.
Today is the competition, I almost forgot. With this thought, David sprang into action to change into his black robe uniform and get ready for his school day. After school was a competition featuring fun games, such as football and jumping.
David was terrible at kicking the football. He was better at making things, such as quill pens. Nathan Hale, a senior, however, had the reputation as the best quill pen maker and the student with the best penmanship at Yale. He was unbeatable.
David had faithfully attended classes every day since becoming a student at Yale College the previous September in 1771. Yale was in New Haven, Connecticut, which was thirty-two miles west of his home in Saybrook. Though he was older than the other students, he had something significant in common with them. Most of them were fourth and fifth generation colonists. Many students at Yale were from families who had lived in New England for more than a century. David was no exception.
His minister, Reverend John Devotion of Saybrook’s Third Church, had helped him to meet Yale’s rigorous entrance requirements. From Cicero’s Orations, David had discovered the power of giving a good speech in ancient Rome. He had also studied Virgil’s ancient Latin poems. He had read the New Testament in Greek and could understand Latin fairly well. His first year at Yale had focused on proficiency in these languages.
To some of his Saybrook neighbors, David had made a risky decision. Like Esau selling his birthright to his brother Jacob in the Bible, David had sold his part of the family farm to his brother, Ezra, to pay for college.
His farming friends didn’t understand why. They didn’t know that although he liked working with tools, David didn’t want to plant seeds or shear corn the rest of his life. He preferred making or selling things, such as designing ships or crafting hats in the shape of a triangle. David enjoyed calculating numbers in mathematics and studying natural philosophy, which was later called science. He also liked change. Every so often, he needed a fresh start. Yale was that fresh start. He was happy to be one of more than 120 students.
Knock. Knock. Someone knocked on his door. As David walked toward the door, he heard the slapping, fading pitter patter of someone running away.
That’s peculiar, David thought, as he cracked the door and peeked into the dark hallway. Who was that?
With no answer, he closed the door and turned back into his room. He looked down and saw that this mystery man had slipped something under his door. What’s this?
David picked up a newspaper, walked to his desk, and lit a candle so he could see to read it because it was still dark outside. A paragraph was circled in pen ink. Next to the article, someone had written a secret message addressed to “Old Man.”
Old Man! He thought. Is that what the other students call me?
Next was a query, which was a short form for asking a question.
“Query: If the king can take people’s land in New York then he could take land in ___________?” with an empty line to fill in the blank. The secret message continued. “Leave your answer on this newspaper and drop it on the last pew at the end of chapel.” The message was signed “For God, Country & Yale, Damon and Pythias.”
Who are Damon and Pythias? There’s no one at Yale by those names. David reflected, while also thinking about the answer to the query.
Under the light of the candle, David forced his sleepy eyes to focus on the circled article in the Connecticut Journal and New Haven Post Boy from several months earlier. The article was a letter from a man in Boston who warned a friend in New York about the latest disturbing report. Lt. Colonel Howard, a member of the King’s life guard, had arrived in Boston from London, England.
Wearing his life guard’s bold red uniform and feathers in his helmet, this military man had brought a “mandamus from the King.” A mandamus was a legal warrant or court order that allowed Colonel Howard to seize ten thousand acres of land in New York on behalf of King George III. Smaller tracts of the same land had been previously granted under the seal of New Hampshire. Now the king was taking land from New Hampshire and giving it to New Yorkers.
David’s eyes locked on one phrase. “Knowing so many designing tricks, if you are not speedy and use your utmost vigilance, you will lose your land.” The article revealed that New York’s Governor William Tryon had signed the order.
Use your utmost vigilance, that’s what the author of this letter is doing. He is being vigilant and watchful. What makes me even angrier is that Governor Tryon sided with the king and not the people of New York, David sadly thought. These farmers and shepherds will lose their homes and ability to earn an honest wage.
The query is easy to answer. David quickly dipped a quill pen in ink and wrote “Connecticut” in the blank. Connecticut was one of several North American colonies governed by England’s King George III and Parliament. The logical conclusion was simple. If the king could send his closest guard to seize thousands of acres of land in New York, which neighbored Connecticut, then he could seize land anywhere, no matter who owned it.
David then wrote an addition on the page’s margin. He could also take land from farmers in “Massachusetts, Virginia, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Maryland, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Delaware, South Carolina, and Georgia.” After writing the names of the other colonies, he paused and then added, “and Canada.”
Next, David glanced at his desk, which displayed a few gunlocks and wooden bottles. It’s almost five a.m. I’ll be late for chapel, he thought as he pulled up his stockings, put on his shoes, blew out the candle, combed his brown hair, put on his hat, and headed for chapel with the newspaper tucked under his arm.
The dorm room door near the south entrance on the first floor of Connecticut Hall suddenly opened and closed just as quickly as ‘Damon’ entered.
“‘Damon,’ Did you accomplish the secret mission?” a genial voice whispered, without looking up from writing with a quill pen at his angled writing desk.
“Aye, Aye ‘Captain Pythias,’” ‘Damon’ teased in a pirate’s voice. “The treasure was delivered. With any luck and with a little more work, we will add to our Linonian Friendship,” he paused.
“David is interesting. He has wisdom, like a father or an older brother. We need more wisdom in Linonia,” ‘Pythias’ said.
“What’s captured your attention so early? We have chapel soon,” the athletic ‘Damon’ asked as his face scrunched with curiosity.
“Travels of Cyrus,” ‘Pythias’ said. “A donation from me to Linonia’s library. Have you read it?”
“Yes. It’s a fiction story about a true person, Cyrus the Great, who founded the Persian Empire.”
‘Pythias’ stood up and read a line from the book as if he was an actor in a play.
“The Persians were the great masters of simply being content with nature and of despairing of death except for the love of country.”
“Bravo, bravo. Come on, we need to get to chapel,” ‘Damon’ said, as they rushed out the door.
Reverend Naphtali Daggett, Yale’s President and a professor of divinity, gave the morning devotion during chapel. Today, instead of focusing on the message, David was distracted with thoughts about the mysterious newspaper that had been left under his door.
Who were Damon and Pythias? David thought. Of course, he knew the ancient Greek story about Damon and Pythias published by Cicero, a lawyer, politician, and philosopher who lived during the fall of the Rome Republic. Not only had Cicero written excellent examples of rhetoric, or techniques to convince and persuade others of an opinion, but he had also written moral tales.
To emphasize self-sacrificing friendship, Cicero wrote about the Greek legend of Damon and Pythias. A tyrant named Dionysius of Syracuse, which was located on the Greek island of Italy, had imprisoned and condemned to death Pythias, a young philosopher. Pythias asked if he could return home to put his family’s affairs in order before his execution. He promised to return, but Dionysius did not believe him and thought he would run away.
Another young philosopher, Damon, offered to take his friend’s place in prison until Pythias returned. If he didn’t come back, Damon offered to give his life in place of Pythias. When Pythias returned, a shocked Dionysius released them both and marveled at their sacrificial friendship.
Someone at Yale goes by the nickname of Damon. Someone else uses the nickname Pythias. Who are they? David wondered.
You can pre-order The Submarine & The Spies now in paperbook and on Kindle. The book is set to release on May 4.
*giddy