The war in Europe brought many hardships to the American people. As bad as the depression had hit, bringing the country to an all-time low, Americans didn’t lose faith in freedom when faced with the rise of the Axis powers. The United States was founded on the stance of, Give me liberty or give me death. Those were just words, though. The proof came in the actions of hundreds of thousands of men and women who sacrificed their lives in pursuit of liberty. Not just for the United States, but for all freedom loving people of the world.
The wind blew calmly, caressing his cheeks. The smell of the salty ocean spray carried all the way up to the observation deck. A crewman busily worked on an assigned task on deck.
Brazo loved everything about the ocean. His earliest memory was cooling his heels in Cocoa Beach with his mom holding one hand and his dad the other. Most of his friends liked playing with toy trucks or cowboys and Indians. Not him. He preferred dressing up as a pirate and becoming a scourge of the Seven Seas. His favorite toys were miniature ships and boats. A long stick for a sword and a rag tied over one eye transformed him into the infamous Captain Black Brazo. The Jolly Roger hung proudly above his bed, threatening any monsters who crept into his room during the night that it would be they who be the victim.
The Executive Officer, Captain Alan Slick, referred to as XO so as to not confuse his rank with the commander of the ship, stepped from the top of the ladder to the observation deck. “Captain,” he said, stiffening to attention for a moment.
“Slick, come up to the crow’s nest for some fresh air? Can’t blame you. Those beans served at lunch may be Hitler’s latest secret weapon. Imagine, asphyxiating nearly three-hundred men by their own farts, and not a shot fired.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past the Nazis, sir. But the way the war is going for them, I suspect they’d eat the beans to do themselves in.”
“They might at that,” Brazo said, continuing to scan the horizon.
Slick turned his attention toward the ocean, lifted his cap, and ran his fingers through his coarse black hair. “Do you believe the reports are true? That Hitler committed suicide? I know that news is something I want to believe.”
“Hard to say,” Brazo said, gazing toward the XO. “There’s the rumor that his body was cremated, too. Without any hard evidence, we can’t be sure. This is no time for us to let our guard down. We’re making progress, but if the Nazis get that so-called atomic bomb before we do, it won’t matter if Hitler’s running the show or not.”
“If there’s a God, that won’t happen.”
“If there’s a God, the damned war wouldn’t have happened,” Brazo said, his tone filled with his disgust for the inhuman atrocities the Nazis subjected innocent people to. He understood war, even perpetrated from crazed dictators who wanted to dominate the world. What he didn’t understand was genocide, or torturing people and treating them worse than animals. Cracks in the Nazi propaganda revealed the Jews not being cared for in the detention camps as portrayed on short films. No children’s opera or clean, comfortable living quarters. No abundance of tasty and nutritious food. The reality was far darker than the fantasy. The detainees actually had been transformed into something almost not recognizable as human. Starvation created near-walking skeletons. Eyes stared death-like from blackened, sunken sockets. Pure instinct the only power driving the day-to-day survival.
“I’m not trying to debate the existence of God, again,” Slick said. “I just know I have to believe a greater power will come to the side of good when the consequences are so great.”
“It’s a matter of wills. Human wills. But, I’ll at least grant you I do believe the power of good is stronger than the power of evil. The human spirit is the hardest fire to extinguish. The will to live…to be free, is stronger than all the Gods combined,” Brazo said, not wanting the philosophical discussion to grow any further. “How’s the shakedown going? The aft engines seem to be running smoother today.”
“They are. The electricians adjusted the cycle on one of the diesel engines to sync with the electric drive. The major problems were corrected a week ago. The way it looks now, I think we’ll be heading across the ocean before the end of the month.” Slick paused a moment, and said, “Uh, there’re couple of things, though. The radio, we can receive but can’t transmit. The problem reared its head around the same time some interference on the radar screen showed up. Probably bad tubes.”
“What kind of interference?”
“A huge blob of green started darkening the screen in one corner.”
“What direction?”
“To the southwest.”
Brazo spun and walked over to the other side of the observation deck. The bright blue sky was slowly encroached by billowing clouds strange in color. He lifted the binoculars and focused. “Hmm.”
“What, sir?” Slick asked, stepping up behind him.
“Those aren’t ordinary clouds out there. They hang from the sky all the way down to the water and…and they’re green.”
“I’ve seen green clouds before. Right before a tornado touched down on our farm. But I have to admit, nothing like those over there.”
The captain of a ship knows to respect weather. Even the mightiest of vessels can be tossed about and crushed under Neptune’s tantrums. Thunderstorms he could handle, especially knowing he was only twenty miles from base. But for some reason this cloud formation had his gut feeling twisting his insides. Brazo had learned to trust his instincts. Why spit into the wind if you don’t have to? “I think it would be in our best interest if we headed back to base. I realize that there’s zero chance we’ll be attacked out here from the air. But what if it’s not just a tube affecting the radar? There might be a larger electrical problem growing. Let’s avoid the bad weather and head back to the base.”
“Yes, sir. You’re the captain,” Slick said. The man turned to leave when the observation deck radio squawked.
“Captain? Over,” the voice of Jim Stone said.
Brazo strode over and grabbed the mic. “Brazo. Go ahead, over.”
“Radar’s picked up a bogy two miles starboard. We suspect it’s a periscope.”
“Are you sure? XO Slick tells me the radar is on the blink,” Brazo said.
“The radar screen not affected by the interference appears to be one hundred percent functional. Something’s definitely out there.”
“U-boat, sir?” Slick asked. “We’ve been whopping the hell out of them over the last several months. Wouldn’t expect to find a straggler out here outside of a major shipping lane.”
“Intel says influential Nazis are fleeing like rats to South America. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of the bloodiest Krauts to ever goosestep were aboard that can.” Brazo narrowed his gaze. His fingers turned white as he squeezed the binoculars hanging by his chest. “I can’t let my emotions get in the way of the safety of this ship or my men. You’re my XO. This ship is not officially commissioned to engage the enemy. But give me one reason why we shouldn’t go after it.”
Slick’s stoic expression hid any emotion as he paused to calculate the risks. “I can’t, sir. All weapons are operational.”
“And the storm to the southwest? The U-boat is heading straight for it.”
“Let’s make it the Jerry’s last voyage. It always rains at funerals, and it never rains in Hell.”
A slight grin curled from the left side of Brazo’s mouth. “Let’s put some fun in this funeral.” He pushed the mic’s button. “This is Captain Brazo. Battle stations!”