Kapitan_Phillips
03-14-08, 09:39 PM
And welcomed them to the USS S-30, an S Class boat sailing from Manila. A World War One relic against the looming approach of the Imperial Japanese Navy.
If the Captain of S-30, Lieutenant Commander Richard Phillips was anxious about using such a vessel on a real war patrol, he didnt show it. As far as he was concerned, this was a weapon of war, and one of the first to be used against the aggressor, Japan. It was only yesterday that he was enjoying time with his wife when he heard the news of Pearl Harbour over the wireless. He knew deep down that he would be called right after. There was hardly anyone else left.
As the crew boarded the submarine, a small crowd had gathered to see them off, bringing gifts and memories of home. Phillips already had his gifts. A wedding ring and a simple handwritten letter.
"Make ready to depart!" he shouted from the bridge, shaking the men loose from a remorseful stupor. "Secure the lines, and start both diesels!" The crowd watched silently as the diesels began their dull cacophony of combustion and movement, and S-30 slowly made its way from the pier. It wasnt long before the base, the beach, the trees and civilisation was a speck on the horizon.
In the control room, things were already well in hand. As the captain climbed down the ladder and removed his cap, the Officer of the Deck gave his report. "Captain, engine rooms report port and starboard diesels are working well, and the connectors to the electric dynamo are set and ready."
The captain leaned against the ballast indicator board with a tall glass of cold water. "Forward torpedo room reports all torpedoes stowed and secured, and all accounted for" the OOD continued, "but there was a problem on the foredeck outside"
"I knew that was coming" said the Captain immediatley. "What's the problem?" he looked up at the OOD, who looked visibly uneased by the seeming evaluatory stare he was recieving.
"The anti net lines from the bridge forward to the bow are frayed. Its not of critical importance, as it is unlikely tha-"
"Unlikely that in rough weather the lines will snap and seriously injure one of the deck watch?" the Captain interrupted. The two planesmen to his right half looked over their shoulders. "Mr Powell, these are the things that need to be constantly going through your mind. Even the slightest possibility can come true, especially in these damn boats. Carry on with your reports."
Powell waited for a moment whilst he processed what the Captain had said. "The uh..the deck gun is fully operational and secured, and we have a full compliment of ammunition stowed under the deck."
"I'm familiar with the storage areas, OOD."
Powell was becoming visibily agitated now, and he delivered his next report with a snappy undertone. "The ballast system is also operational and correct. As you can see behind you." The captain smirked slightly, which alleviated Powells somewhat aggressive stance.
"Well I guess its time I looked over the patrol orders. Mr Powell, make your course 020 and make your speed 5 knots."
"Aye sir. Helm, come left to course 020, make speed 5 knots."
"Helm aye" came the reply.
The Captain sat down heavily on his bunk and pulled the privacy curtain closed, placing his almost empty glass on the small reading table. He used a long silver letter opener to slice open a brown envelope, and slipped out several sheets of paper. They included the crew manifest, his ship specifications, a letter from ComSubPac, and his patrol orders. He ignored the ComSubPac letter, which every Captain got on being approved of command; celebrating his bravery in the face of adversity, blah blah blah.
The patrol orders unfolded with a loud crackle and the Captain slipped on his glasses. It didnt take long for his brow to furrow and his teeth to grind. He looked up from the document and muttered "What the hell?"
{To be continued, but feedback is appreciated :D}
If the Captain of S-30, Lieutenant Commander Richard Phillips was anxious about using such a vessel on a real war patrol, he didnt show it. As far as he was concerned, this was a weapon of war, and one of the first to be used against the aggressor, Japan. It was only yesterday that he was enjoying time with his wife when he heard the news of Pearl Harbour over the wireless. He knew deep down that he would be called right after. There was hardly anyone else left.
As the crew boarded the submarine, a small crowd had gathered to see them off, bringing gifts and memories of home. Phillips already had his gifts. A wedding ring and a simple handwritten letter.
"Make ready to depart!" he shouted from the bridge, shaking the men loose from a remorseful stupor. "Secure the lines, and start both diesels!" The crowd watched silently as the diesels began their dull cacophony of combustion and movement, and S-30 slowly made its way from the pier. It wasnt long before the base, the beach, the trees and civilisation was a speck on the horizon.
In the control room, things were already well in hand. As the captain climbed down the ladder and removed his cap, the Officer of the Deck gave his report. "Captain, engine rooms report port and starboard diesels are working well, and the connectors to the electric dynamo are set and ready."
The captain leaned against the ballast indicator board with a tall glass of cold water. "Forward torpedo room reports all torpedoes stowed and secured, and all accounted for" the OOD continued, "but there was a problem on the foredeck outside"
"I knew that was coming" said the Captain immediatley. "What's the problem?" he looked up at the OOD, who looked visibly uneased by the seeming evaluatory stare he was recieving.
"The anti net lines from the bridge forward to the bow are frayed. Its not of critical importance, as it is unlikely tha-"
"Unlikely that in rough weather the lines will snap and seriously injure one of the deck watch?" the Captain interrupted. The two planesmen to his right half looked over their shoulders. "Mr Powell, these are the things that need to be constantly going through your mind. Even the slightest possibility can come true, especially in these damn boats. Carry on with your reports."
Powell waited for a moment whilst he processed what the Captain had said. "The uh..the deck gun is fully operational and secured, and we have a full compliment of ammunition stowed under the deck."
"I'm familiar with the storage areas, OOD."
Powell was becoming visibily agitated now, and he delivered his next report with a snappy undertone. "The ballast system is also operational and correct. As you can see behind you." The captain smirked slightly, which alleviated Powells somewhat aggressive stance.
"Well I guess its time I looked over the patrol orders. Mr Powell, make your course 020 and make your speed 5 knots."
"Aye sir. Helm, come left to course 020, make speed 5 knots."
"Helm aye" came the reply.
The Captain sat down heavily on his bunk and pulled the privacy curtain closed, placing his almost empty glass on the small reading table. He used a long silver letter opener to slice open a brown envelope, and slipped out several sheets of paper. They included the crew manifest, his ship specifications, a letter from ComSubPac, and his patrol orders. He ignored the ComSubPac letter, which every Captain got on being approved of command; celebrating his bravery in the face of adversity, blah blah blah.
The patrol orders unfolded with a loud crackle and the Captain slipped on his glasses. It didnt take long for his brow to furrow and his teeth to grind. He looked up from the document and muttered "What the hell?"
{To be continued, but feedback is appreciated :D}