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k-dillo · 03-08-14, 02:06 AM

May 12, 1942 "Told ya, XO! Told ya they'd try to run in this storm!" The Cap'n was triumphantly angry pounding his fist rhythmically on his thigh, stalking the control room, impatient for the tracking party to develop the new sound contact. Convoy, 12 merchants.

We had left Pearl by way of Johnston Island bound for the South China Sea, running roughly due west. Somewhere SE of Iwo Jima the mercury plummeted as we ran into the back end of a nasty, brutish storm. At ahead 2/3 we couldn't make 8 knots. East gale winds, a following sea rudely lifted our skirts, shoved our nose into the deep swells. Green water rose over the bow, ran the length of our fordeck, shuddering against the tower and shooting in solid spumes, up, up, to be snatched forward by the gale. Storm rinsed, wind dried, repeat the cycle. For 36 hours.

The mostly green crew was bumped, bruised and battered. Sullen. Except for the Chief, wedged into a corner, something steaming, dark, swirling in his mug. "Boat a-pitchin', men a-bitchin', this is a real man-o-war now." He smiled over the lip of his mug, nary spilling a drop.

Man-o-war? With the Cap'n having batted 0 for 20 something last trip out not many agreed. The NavBu of Gossip, Half-truths and Drunken Rumors issued a story that he was a ring-knocker, a fair haired Academy grad seeking adventure, who too quickly grew bored with the "polish brass, kiss ..." routine that was the peacetime Navy. As if it could be anything else but attention to detail, building command relationships. He was getting out when the war came on. Another darker story suggested that he ran afoul of an Admiral's wife/daughter. Maybe it was sexual, depending on the teller, but certainly unforgivable. The Powers That Be suggested a severe penance served in the silent service. Whatever the truth, and it probably lay between the two narratives, all agreed this was his last patrol unless he got results. Big results.

03-08-14, 02:06 AM	#4602
k-dillo Nub Join Date: Sep 2010 Posts: 2 Downloads: 72 Uploads: 0	Noob in the Storm May 12, 1942 "Told ya, XO! Told ya they'd try to run in this storm!" The Cap'n was triumphantly angry pounding his fist rhythmically on his thigh, stalking the control room, impatient for the tracking party to develop the new sound contact. Convoy, 12 merchants. We had left Pearl by way of Johnston Island bound for the South China Sea, running roughly due west. Somewhere SE of Iwo Jima the mercury plummeted as we ran into the back end of a nasty, brutish storm. At ahead 2/3 we couldn't make 8 knots. East gale winds, a following sea rudely lifted our skirts, shoved our nose into the deep swells. Green water rose over the bow, ran the length of our fordeck, shuddering against the tower and shooting in solid spumes, up, up, to be snatched forward by the gale. Storm rinsed, wind dried, repeat the cycle. For 36 hours. The mostly green crew was bumped, bruised and battered. Sullen. Except for the Chief, wedged into a corner, something steaming, dark, swirling in his mug. "Boat a-pitchin', men a-bitchin', this is a real man-o-war now." He smiled over the lip of his mug, nary spilling a drop. Man-o-war? With the Cap'n having batted 0 for 20 something last trip out not many agreed. The NavBu of Gossip, Half-truths and Drunken Rumors issued a story that he was a ring-knocker, a fair haired Academy grad seeking adventure, who too quickly grew bored with the "polish brass, kiss ..." routine that was the peacetime Navy. As if it could be anything else but attention to detail, building command relationships. He was getting out when the war came on. Another darker story suggested that he ran afoul of an Admiral's wife/daughter. Maybe it was sexual, depending on the teller, but certainly unforgivable. The Powers That Be suggested a severe penance served in the silent service. Whatever the truth, and it probably lay between the two narratives, all agreed this was his last patrol unless he got results. Big results.