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Post by crushedhat on Jun 29, 2016 17:16:57 GMT
"I hope you're right, sir," Wouke says. Lighting his own smoke he adds, “I’m not concerned about whether or not we’ll do our job. But, if the torpedoes aren’t going to work I don’t want to risk my life for nothing.” Paul takes a drink from his beer then, pausing in his conversation with Marshall, takes a moment to scan the room for potential female companionship. Most of the women present are either wives or girlfriends of other officers. Turning back to Marshall, Paul asks, “You married, sir?”
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Post by privepilot on Jun 29, 2016 19:11:17 GMT
Not long after he found a chair, Lt. Cmdr Frank sees his XO, Jason DeRuyter walk in. He flags him down and catches the waiters eye at the same time. "Sit down, Jay." He says. "Thank you sir. I am happy to report we are ready in all respects for sea, sir. But...." "But what, Jay?" Jay grabs his beer and takes a large swallow. "Thank you again, sir." He says. "But.... Wayne (Chief Engineer)is really unhappy. He says these torpedoes are the next best thing to worthless,he actually said it is 60-40 against, unless we strengthen the firing pin." I shake my head. "There is nothing we can do. BUORD has said they are fine and that's that". "I know, sir. Just wish we had a fix. Oh. One other thing. Wayne says he did a test on the pressure tube that keeps the torpedo at the preset depth. He claims they are going to run 20' or more deep!" "Wow" was all I could say. "Ok, Jay. Lets keep that in our heads when we finally get to shoot the real thing. For now, I want us to get to sea as soon as we can. I want to practice some more approaches. I am afraid we are going to need the practice very soon." The two men sit back and try to relax, each with his own thoughts of the future.................
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Post by nfiltr8r on Jun 29, 2016 21:26:10 GMT
"I hope you're right, sir," Wouke says. Lighting his own smoke he adds, “I’m not concerned about whether or not we’ll do our job. But, if the torpedoes aren’t going to work I don’t want to risk my life for nothing.” Paul takes a drink from his beer then, pausing in his conversation with Marshall, takes a moment to scan the room for potential female companionship. Most of the women present are either wives or girlfriends of other officers. Turning back to Marshall, Paul asks, “You married, sir?” "Oh, I know all our men will do our jobs. We've all trained hard. Some of those old Salts in New London I'm sure made some of you new guys want to wash out, but if you've made it this far to get those Dolphins {LtCdr Marshall taps on Woulke's Submarine insignia} then we'll all be fine." The LtCommander finishes his beer and sets the glass down with a thump. Simultaneously, the bar keep brings him another with a nod. "Oh, and to answer your other question. I'm not married. At least not yet. Engaged. Due to be married this coming June. Unless, you talk to her mother, and she thinks they need another year just to plan the thing..." "If you aren't married yet Ensign, I suggest you go down to the Palm Frond Club over in Honolulu. My buddy from sub school says that's where a lot of those Navy nurses like to go for their R and R. Usually only a few enlisted, as those tin can and battlewagon boys can't seem to want to go anywhere that's more of a stagger to get home" "Say, Ensign... What boat are you from, and in which squadron? I haven't seen anyone from my boat yet, at least that i know of." LtCdr Marshall looks to the barkeep, "two scotch, single malt" ....
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Post by crushedhat on Jun 30, 2016 0:40:50 GMT
"Bristlemouth, sir. LCdr Robinson’s boat.” Wouke’s voice carries a hint of pride. Finishing his beer and crushing out his cigarette Ensign Paul Wouke prepares to take his leave. “Good luck on your engagement, sir. And thanks for the tip about the Palm Frond Club.” With that, the young man is on his way out the door.
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Post by nfiltr8r on Jun 30, 2016 3:12:32 GMT
"the Bristlemouth is a fine boat, so i've heard. Thanks for all the info, Ensign. Take care."
The LtCmdr returns a quick informal salute to the Ensign, and continues to sit and wait. LtCmdr Marshall takes a look at his watch. Realizing he forgot to change it on the flight over, he asks the barkeep for the time.
The barkeep responds, its about 2200 hours sir. 22:01 to be exact."
"Why thank you, Petty Officer."
LtCmdr Marshall hastily winds his watch. He looks around the room to see if anyone noticed him. Maybe if he didn't seem like such a fresh fish to the area that he might be able to strike up a conversation. He really wanted to get to the bottom of this torpedo issue, if there was more info around other than scuttlebutt.
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Post by crushedhat on Jun 30, 2016 16:51:25 GMT
As Marshall scans the room he sees a new figure enter. Like himself, the man wears the silver oak leaves of a LCdr and the dolphin insignia of someone qualified in submarines. Tall and lanky, with sandy hair, the new figure’s uniform is worn in what would charitably de described as a relaxed manner. Those more inclined toward naval regulations would be upset. The new arrival spots Marshall and heads his way.
“You’re a new face,” the man says by way of introduction. “Not that any of us would qualify as ‘Old China Hands,’ here. Kyle Robinson.” Kyle extends his hand while nodding to the bartender who seems to know exactly what Kyle wants in the way of a drink, a glass with ice and a semi-clear golden liquid that Marshall takes to be bourbon appearing on the bar beside them.
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Post by nfiltr8r on Jul 1, 2016 5:19:54 GMT
"Good to meet you, Commander" says Marshall as he firmly grasps Robinson's hand. Marshall gives him a firm shake, as he cocks half a smile and looks Robinson straight in the eye. "I see you're a Bourbon kind of man. I like that. I don't mind a beer when I have to, but I'll always take a good Bourbon if I can get one."
"Say, Commander.. How long have you been here in Pearl? I can't seem to find my XO. Perhaps you've met him? Lt Brent Lindsey is his name. We've only corresponded via letter, so I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet. Or the rest of my crew, for that matter..."
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Post by crushedhat on Jul 1, 2016 15:50:28 GMT
"All the boats in port are tied up at the tender, USS Turtle. You might want to check there.” Kyle gives Marshall directions to locate the tender. “If they’re trying to save their money they’ll have a berth there rather than a room in town. Of course, if they’re single you might want to check out where the women can be found. Even if they’re not.” Robinson smiles. “What about you?”
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Post by nfiltr8r on Jul 2, 2016 5:31:01 GMT
"Thanks for the tip, Commander. I just got into Pearl this afternoon. Still on San Francisco time. At least my watch is on time now!," said Marshall with a smile.
"I might try to head over to the Turtle and see if the men are about. It would be nice to see the boat after all, and hopefully meet some of the crew. I'm sure most are out for the evening, however."
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Post by crushedhat on Jul 2, 2016 19:21:10 GMT
The XO's name suddenly registering with Kyle he says, “You’re here to take over Johnson’s boat.” Marshall chafes slightly hearing his command referred to as someone else’s boat. But, he has to admit, until he is read in, a formal ceremony wherein the crew is assembled and their new commander reads the orders giving him the power of life and death over them, it’s not really his.
Robinson continues, “Weatherfish is a good boat. Johnson was a good skipper and the crew is well trained.” Pausing, Kyle takes a hit from his glass then adds, “A word of advice; Lindsey’s a good man and has the crew’s confidence. You want him on your side. But, Lindsey’s a senior LT and everybody pretty much assumed he’d be promoted into command of Weatherfish.” Silently, Robinson doesn’t envy his new colleague.
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Post by nfiltr8r on Jul 3, 2016 0:05:40 GMT
"Thanks, Commander. I'm looking forward to meeting the crew in the morning. However, I'd still like to try to track down my XO. The Weatherfish is tendered next to the Turtle, you say? I should head over there before it's too late in the evening. It's already 10:20 as it is.", as LtCdr Marshall tires to make out the time on his watch in the darkened bar.
"Good to meet you, again, Commander." LtCdr Marshall offers his hand out after quickly downing what was left of his drink.
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Post by crushedhat on Jul 7, 2016 20:37:14 GMT
18 December 1941, early evening The post patrol report submitted and Bristlemouth turned over to the maintenance team, LCdr Kyle Robinson takes some time to reflect on recent events. He is joined by his friend and XO, Lt Bryce Worthington II. Bryce nurses a beer while Kyle is on his second bourbon. With most of the boats still out on patrol, the Fainting Goat is relatively empty.
Putting his glass down, Kyle speaks in a solemn tone. “You know, the crew was ready to gun down every one of those men in the water.”
“Can you blame them?” Bryce’s voice lacks any hint of judgment. “After what happened here,” he motions to take in the broader surrounding area, “It’s a perfectly natural reaction.”
“And one a commander needs to rise above,” Kyle fires back. “If we’re no better than them, what right do we have to win?” Both men turn quiet.
It’s Worthington who breaks the silence. “There are those who would argue that killing them outright is a mercy compared to leaving them to the sharks, to drown, or to go slowly mad through thirst.”
“Be that as it may, no one under my command is going to commit cold blooded murder. It’s one thing to shoot at an enemy who can fight back. It’s entirely different mowing down helpless unarmed men.” A slight smile distorts Bryce’s lips, he not seeing much difference between shooting at unarmed men or a submerged shot at an unarmed freighter, other than the former being a waste of ammunition given the eventual outcome. “It’s not going to happen again!” Kyle avows.
“It didn’t happen the first time,” Bryce reminds his friend. Raising their glasses, they clink them together and drink. It’s going to be a long, brutal war.
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Post by privepilot on Jul 12, 2016 2:07:03 GMT
Feeling more than a little bit down, LtCmdr Frank leads his crew into the Fainting Goat! BARTENDER! He yells. set my crew up with whatever they want and keep it coming! Ignoring the amazed looks they are receiving from other patrons, the crew makes room at the bar and proceeds to get totally plastered. Heads will hurt tomorrow, but the taste of a wasted mission is washed out of their mouths.
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Post by crushedhat on Jul 31, 2016 3:55:08 GMT
10 April 1942, early evening
Bristlemouth’s unmarried officers, less her commander, sit glumly around a table nursing their beers.
“Bataan’s fallen,” Lt(jg) Tom Bolling needlessly tells his fellow officers.
Picking up on the thread, Bristlemouth’s Engineering Officer, Lt Jack Hallingford replies, “Only US holding left in the Philippines is Corregidor. Wonder how long those poor bastards’ll be able to hold out?”
“Kinda makes you wish there was something we could do to help.” Ens Paul Wouke’s input only serves to remind the trio that their recently completed patrol to the Japanese Home Islands was singularly devoid of targets.”
“Next time,” all three promise themselves.
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Post by privepilot on Oct 7, 2016 22:00:14 GMT
It is late on the night of December first when the doors fly open and practically the whole crew of the Angelfish pour in. The captain calls his crew to order and orders a round of shots. To Casey, he says. The crew replies CASEY! And downs their drinks. Every man has his own private thoughts about our lost friend, Pharmacist Mate Casey Straub. Next, the XO orders a round and exclaims in a loud voice, Here's to COMMANDER Frank! Congratulations on your promotion! CMDR. Frank is all terry eyed as he accepts the congrats if his crew. Now that the hoky stuff is over, Let's drink! The crew proceeds to get completely snookered and has a great night. For tonight, the war, the boat and Casey are put aside and all the anxiety released!
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