“I was raised out in the cornfields of Nebraska. I know what you mean about the stars. I used to go out in the field after we’d taken the crop in and just lay out looking up at them all. You go camping much?” he asked.
“Never had much chance,” she said. “But I enjoy it.”
He had a laugh at that. “I guess being a Marine we have to like it a little,” he said.
They stood silently for a while listening to the swish of the water alongside the ship. Richardson broke the silence. “Where are you in all this,” she asked.
“They put me in charge of a of rifle company in Second Bat, A Company,” he said. “My guys are all trained up and raring to go. With all the training we’ve been going through it’s nice to finally be on the way.”
“Yeah it is,” she said. “I’m on one of the staffs. I thought we’d never get this show on the road sometimes. Your guys anxious?”
He chuckled. “Screaming to get there and kick a little ass. Most of them ticked off because they lost a car or their music. What about you?”
“Yes, I’m ready to go. They actually had me working on the Memphis cleanup at first. I saw first hand what they did. It was pretty bad.”
“I bet. Can’t imagine what it would be like to live through such a thing. I was lucky enough to be down at Quantico when it started. I was so green I didn’t have a clue what had happened until my Gunny told me. When it dawned on me, I was pretty pissed. But it looks like we’re going to get some payback,” he said.
They talked for nearly half an hour about simple things, good times and bad. Richardson was able to relax talking to the young man about things that didn’t matter. The night was warm but the wind was refreshing. The ships had been passing through a small front. In the distance, she watched as the line of clouds ended. In the middle of one conversation about school the moon suddenly broke through the clouds illuminating the ship and revealing the young man standing next to her. He was a handsome man, fit and trim as the others onboard, dressed in his camouflage uniform and sporting the high and tight haircut typical of Marines. He was leaned against the railing staring out to sea as he spoke.
As he finished what he was saying he glanced over and saw the stars on Richardson’s collar. He suddenly straightened to attention. “Excuse me, Ma’am. I didn’t know who you were,” he said.
Richardson was almost saddened that the simple conversation was now over. She waved him down. “Stand at ease, Lieutenant. Generals like talking, too,” she said glancing at her watch. “But it’s getting late and I need to hit the sack.” She looked at the name on his uniform. “Lieutenant Dickson, I enjoyed talking with you this evening. It’s nice to relax a little after a hard day. I hope we can continue this conversation again sometime,” she said extending her hand. They shook briefly. She could tell by the look on his face he was still in some shock. “And always remember, we’re all Marines. We have to talk to each other, whatever rank. It’s what makes us what we are,” she said.
Dickson smiled. “Thank you, Ma’am. I just never spoke to a general before.” She could almost sense him blushing.
“Well, I don’t have my ogre hat on,” she quipped. They both gave a short laugh. “Good night and thanks again,” she said as she turned to reenter the ship. Just as she opened the door and stepped inside she glanced at Dickson once again. He was still watching her. His face still held that smile and he waved at her like a friend might do as they passed. Nice guy, she thought as she closed the door behind her. As she made her way back to her stateroom she wondered if most of the young lieutenants were like Dickson. Her thoughts strayed to wondering how many might be around after all this. But she shook the thought out of her mind quickly. It didn’t pay to dwell on those kinds of things. It was much better to remember that she had met a really nice good looking Marine from Nebraska who was happy about being where he was. As she went to sleep later, she was more relaxed than she had been in a month.
Captain Hammond was not having a very restful night. Although the ship was burning its normal running lights, it was not operating its radars. As a result, more lookouts were posted to make sure the ship was aware of all things that they might run into or might run into them. As the early morning hours went on, more and more sets of running lights were being reported. Finally, the OOD called to say that it appeared one set of lights was bearing down on them. Hammond quickly dressed and walked out of his sea cabin to the bridge. The moon was bright and through some binoculars he could see one of the shadows was definitely headed their way. Since they were nowhere near a war zone and he was half expecting other Navy ships to be around, general quarters was not sounded. Instead he moved between several sets of lights to see if he could make out what kind of ships they were. Most were too far to really make out, but the one approaching had the masts and radars to be some kind of naval vessel. It was headed toward them from almost dead ahead, so he could see both the port and starboard running lights along with the mast head and range lights.
After studying the form a few minutes, he could tell it was not one of the kinds of ships he was used to seeing. There appeared to be guns forward, but the shadows might be playing tricks. Hammond was starting to become a little concerned when a red flashing light began blinking on one side of the shadow coming towards him. He heard feet running above and the shutters from one of the signal lights begin slapping away returning the call. He knew he should be patient. Signal light messages tended to take longer since they were sending and receiving in Morse code. After about three minutes a signalman came down the ladder with the paper in his hand.
“Officer of the deck, I have a message,” he said excitedly.
The OOD took the message and held his flashlight over it. The beam was tented red for use at night. After a moment, the OOD made his report.
“Captain, the message is from USS Rooks. They are an escort vessel and request to form up on our starboard side to escort us to our rendezvous,” the OOD said handing the sheet over.
The Captain scanned the message. He had never heard of a “Rooks” in the fleet, but with all that was going on, he wasn’t that surprised. Sure enough they would be an escort. “Permission granted. Request they come no closer than 1,000 yards,” he said.
The OOD gave the instructions and soon the shutters of the signal light were clattering again. The message was acknowledged and the outline of the ship changed slightly. Hammond was no longer able to see the port running light and the mast head light shifted a little more to the right relative to the range light. The Rooks was much closer now and more detail of the ship could be seen.
The OOD was watching the captain out of the corner of his eye when he saw him straighten up in some sort of recognition. “Well I’ll be damned,” he heard the Captain say. Then the Captain sat back in his chair and lowered the binoculars. He had a smile on his face. “Is there a problem, Captain?” he asked.
Hammond shook his head. “No problem. It just seems somebody is looking after us. Take a look at our escort. You ever see a ship like that before?” he asked
The OOD looked at the oncoming ship again. It was turned so that you could see more of a sideways look at the ship instead of from just ahead. Two guns appeared to be forward, a tripod mast with radar and other gear on it and what looked like two stacks amidships. The after end of the ship appeared as a lump. Nothing was familiar about it. “No, Captain, I can’t say I’ve seen one like that,” he said.