»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Freedom's Last Stand
| Passions in Prose |
|
Freedom's Last Stand |
|
|
G. A. Webb Member
since 2000-01-21
Posts 441Stanton, California, USA |
It was a cold day. Overcast skies presided over a choppy sea. An arctic wind blew out of the north, sending an icy chill straight threw to the very core of one's being. The gray frigid ocean churned violently, making travel by sea almost impossible. Tinny droplets of water sprang up from the sea stinging the skin like a thousand frozen needles being thrust into a pin cushion simultaneously. It was truly a dreadful day indeed. On the horizon one could just make out the image of a lone ship daring enough to tread these forbidden waters. It was the battleship Freedom. Having just come out of a brutal navel skirmish Freedom was limping her way back to port for much needed repairs. She did not fare well in the last confrontation having lost most of her big guns, but she survived and was heading home. Battered and bleeding she fought her way through the unrelenting sea. It was really a pitiful sight, this poor blackened ship struggling just to maintain a straight heading. But maintain she did showing the true heart and courage she has displayed ever sense the very first day she was set in the water. Ah yes, I remember that day, I remember it well. It was a warm summer's day, very much different then this one. The sun was shining and the sky was clear. In a small harbor a battleship was set afloat for the first time. Freedom was her name and she was the pride of the fleet. I remember when she set sail that day and thinking how beautiful she looked doing so. Standing tall, she cut through the water like a precision surgical instrument. Her colorful flags waved in the wind while sea gulls flew in and around them forming an intricate yet elegant aerial ballet. Sunlight danced all around her creating a golden aura that almost seemed to come from the ship itself. Proud and regal was this fine ship. I watched in awe as the beautiful new queen of the sea majestically sailed out into open waters. But make no mistake this lady had teeth, teeth that she brought to bare against her enemies. I've seen her go up against incredible odds and come out relatively unscathed on many occasions. But sadly, that wasn't the case on this day. She was crippled and could barely make even half speed. Her last battle was a hard fought one and she desperately wanted to get home. At about mid-afternoon a small break in the clouds reveled a cold, pale sun which shown down upon the hapless vessel, doing little to warm the souls of her war weary crew. A faint buzz could be heard in the distance, enemy dive-bombers. Perhaps they didn't see her and she is being aloud to escape and fight another day. Or maybe they did see her and they saw how badly she was injured. So perhaps they will spare her life and not even waste their time on this ship that was obviously no threat. A comforting thought, but unfortunately this wasn't meant to be. One by one the dive-bombers broke their formation arcing up and over, performing a death dive towards the helpless battleship. A hail of gun fire arose from the ship filling the air with white hot tracer fire. This was the only defense she had left against the on coming attack. The first bomber that got within range was shot down and the second one followed suite. The third one managed to release it's payload, but it fell short and exploded in the water with a thunderous crack. It would appear that luck was still on Freedom's side for now. But that luck was short lived, for at that moment another squadron of bombers pierced through the clouds and were heading straight for Freedom. Dealing with the first bomber group, the ship had no idea of the second group attacking her flank until it was far too late. Now the bombs found their mark and began exploding on the deck of the beleaguered battleship. Swarms of dive-bombers attacked from the sky like ravenous wasps intent on killing their prey. Bomb after bomb hit the ship hurling pieces of flesh and metal high into the air and out into the open ocean. But still she fought on valiantly, for she was determined not to go down. The attack seemed to last forever. But just as quickly as it had begun, in an instant it was over. The bomber groups had used up all of their bombs yet failed to sink the devastated ship. Having been denied their victory and running low on fuel, they had to return to base. Miraculously she had survived again. Smoke and flame billowed from the countless holes in her deck. The air was filled with the stench of death. Fuel and oil spilled into the sea like blood would fall from the gaping wounds of a soldger having just done battle. The water was ablaze from the fuel/oil mixture that was feeding the fire. This created a hellish inferno on the sea with Freedom trapped in the center fighting desperately to stay alive. But little did she know that a pack of submarines were drawn to the melee and were at that very moment circling her like hungry sharks preparing themselves for the up coming feeding frenzy. Her only defense now was her position. Being surrounded by so much smoke and fame it made it almost impossible to get a clear shot on her. In fact, the first three torpedoes missed her completely due to poor visibility and rough seas. Then a sound ripped through the water, a sound similar to that which is made by tearing an old linen sheet. One of the submarines fired two more torpedoes at Freedom and they were heading straight for their target. The first torpedo struck her amidships with such force that it quite nearly broker her in half, while the second penetrated the aft section completely destroying it. This proved to be the fatal blow. Secondary explosions from unused fuel and munitions supplies rocked the ship. Torrents of water now rushed in through the massive holes filling her lower compartments and pulling her deeper into the depths. There was no escaping the clutches death this time. What was left of the stern went under first, pointing the once sleek and mighty bow high into the air. Slowly she went down amidst the smoke and flame fighting the whole way to stay above water. But alas, resistance at this point was futile. She sank deeper and deeper until all that remained of her was a burning oil slick on the face of the sea. Shrieking sounds of twisting metal resounded throughout the depths like the cry of a frightened bear cub having just lost it's mother to a hunter's rifle, all the while she slipped further into the darkness. No longer will you grace the sea with your beauty my sweet Freedom. No longer do you have to fight for the ideals of others. But fear not my gallant warrior for you have not died in vein, nor will you be alone. You have served your people well, but it is time now for you to rest. Time for you to take your place amongst your honored brethren here in the deep. No more will you be the conveyor of death, rather the giver of life. A great city will be built in your honor upon you, henceforth named Freedom, so that for many generations to come you will not be forgotten. Thus your memory will live on and your sacrifice will stand as a testament for all others to follow. So rest now dear Freedom, rest in my loving embrace. Sleep now in the comfort of my arms, for your long day's toil is finally at an end. Neptune Regret not that which you have done, Rather that which you haven't |
||
| © Copyright 2000 G. A. Webb - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Tim Gouldthorp Member
since 2000-01-03
Posts 170 |
Hi Naval history isn't really my cup of tea, but I like the way you give this ship character, endowing it with human virtues. Perhaps though, it might be better if the narrator identified themselves perhaps as a sailor recounting these occurances long after. Neptune or the sea does not seem to me the sort of entity to morn or praise a ship. Just a thought. -Tim |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
