"Have you plenty of cigars, Jim?" asked Rear Admiral Kenmore McManes, commandant of the Sixth Naval District. Replied Commander James B. Osborn, between puffs on his stogie: "I've got 15 boxes. Admiral.'' Moments later, as a Navy band whomped up a rousing Sousa march on a closely guarded pier at the Charleston (S.C.) Navy Yard dock. Osborn, 42, stepped aboard the nuclear Polaris submarine George Washington, in whose vast holds huge quantities of provisions—from missile-shaped cigars to cigar-shaped missiles—had been stored. Then Skipper Osborn bellowed a time-honored order: "Cast off all...
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