“Sir, signals just called and said that P-boat Number One is leaving Fleet Landing with a load of visitors.”

In about eight minutes, the boat pulled alongside and I greeted the visitors that came on board. The majority of visitors come aboard via the after brow on the enlisted boats, but officer’s visitors and senior civilian officials use the officer’s boats.

I assigned a guide for each party or called the officer whom they were visiting and moved them off the Quarterdeck as quickly as possible.

It looks much sharper to have a quiet, orderly Quarterdeck.

“Coxswain, lay off until 1340, then come back alongside.”

“Aye aye sir.”

Entered in the log.

“Commenced raining.”

All was quiet for a while. I shoved the next boat off at 1345. Talked with the Watch Team for a few minutes about their liberty in Cannes. The entertainment. The booze, the fights, the stores, etc.

The boat returned at 1424 with fewer visitors and no officers. The rain had a lot to do with that I suppose. I then told the Coxswain to lay off until 1440.

The wind died down and so I increased boating to 100 percent and entered that in the log.

The next entry read, “1433—stopped raining.”

I had just stepped back out onto the deck when one of the tour guides ran up and told me that one of the visitors had hit their head on the wing of an aircraft.

“Lemback.” I knew the man.

“Get back to the tour on the double, keep them together and keep that patient sitting down.”

“Yes, sir.”

He was gone at a trot.

“Quartermaster.”

“Yes sir?”

“Never mind, I’ll do it.”

I dialed 999. The duty Hospital Corpsman answered.

“Sick bay. Gory, HM2 speaking sir.”

“Gory, this is the Officer of the Deck. A visitor has just hit his head on an airplane wing. Get up to hangar bay #2 on the double with a first aid bag. Call me when the situation is under control.”  As a former Hospital Corpsman myself, I really wanted to go with him to assess and treat the patient.  Of course, that was impossible.

“Yes, sir.” Click.

In ten minutes he called to say that it was only a minor cut, which he had treated with a band-aid. I shoved the boat off on time, and gave the JOOW a break in the deck house.

The sky was still overcast, but the sun poured through several breaks to illuminate the mountains with their mantle of snow. It was beautiful. Too bad these inspiring moments cannot be put into the log. And, it is also too bad these stories that read so dry in the log cannot show their depth and humanness.

The remainder of the watch passed slowly.

The boat returned empty. I had him stand off until 1540.

The JOOW and I talked about our families and whether or not the ship would return early from the deployment. Then, this conversation having brought the ever-present, but submerged ache to mind, we lapsed into thoughts of our own until our reliefs showed up.

“Ready to relieve you, sir.”

“Very well…the Captain is ashore, the XO is aboard…”

He relieved me and I did a deep shrug to relax my aching shoulder muscles which cramp under the heavy weight of the Venetian coat. Then, still immersed in thoughts about home, I went below to mull them over, through the depths of a strong cup of coffee sipped slowly over the green felt of the Wardroom table.

© 2017 Tracy D. Connors