Cuttlefish
Posts: 2454
Joined: 1/24/2007
From: Oregon, USA
Status: offline
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November 13, 1942
Location: 220 miles north of Eniwetok
Course: Northwest
Attached to: TF 72
Mission: Air Combat
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 399
Orders: Proceed to the Kuril Islands.
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Riku and a warrant officer are going through one of the forward lockers doing an inventory of the Hibiki’s foul weather gear. No one has paid any attention to this gear in many months, and the jackets, parkas, and mittens are dirty and moth-eaten. Riku is counting and calling out numbers, which the warrant officer duly records on his clipboard.
“What about the footgear?” asks the warrant officer. In response Riku emerges holding up a pair of rubberized boots that look as though they might fit an ogre out of legend. He looks quizzically at the warrant officer, who smiles.
“The boots,” says the warrant officer, “are designed to ship as much water as possible. That gives you more traction on slippery decks.” He steps forward and picks up a heavy woolen mitten. “The mittens are designed to prevent enlisted men from being able to do anything with their hands, such as adjusting the focus on a pair of binoculars or picking their noses. These,” he says, indicating one of the jackets, “are meant to keep hard-working sailors from overheating by absorbing many liters of ice cold water.”
I see,” says Riku. He picks up the indicated jacket and, sticking one hand through a hole under the right arm, wiggles his fingers.
“This stuff is in deplorable shape,” comments the warrant officer. “How are you with a needle and thread, Seaman Ariga?”
“Warrant Officer, I will do my best,” says Riku. He gestures at the quantity of gear. “But if it is to be done by the time we get up north…” The warrant officer nods.
“Yes, you will need some help,” he says. “I will see to that. Carry on, Seaman Ariga.” He tucks the clipboard under his arm and strolls off, leaving Riku to begin sorting out the gear that needs repair.
---
Chief Petty Officer Shun addresses a line of ten sailors on the foredeck.
“I need two volunteers to do some sewing and mending,” he says. The line of sailors remains motionless, all eyes carefully trained straight ahead. Shun grins.
“What’s the matter,” he says, “are all of you too manly and bold to do women’s work?” There is no answer from the sailors, but an alert observer can detect a few nervous twitches among them. They are entering shoal waters here, and they know it.
Shun begins to stroll slowly in front of the sailors. “This is the Japanese Navy,” he says. “Here, there is no such thing as men’s work or women’s work. There is only Navy work.” He pauses and looks at each of the sailors in turn. “This is good,” he continues in a biting voice, “because I don’t think that any of you precious, soft little jellyfish are up to doing men’s work. Are you?’ he barks suddenly, right in one sailor’s face.
“Yes, Chief Petty Officer,” blurts out the sailor.
“Yes I am right or yes, you can do a man’s work? Which?” snarls Shun.
“You are right, Chief,” says the sailor hurriedly. Shun steps back and nods.
“Damned right I am,” he says. He resumes his slow pacing in front of the sailors. His voice is almost conversational. “So, ladies, who volunteers?” He stops and lets the silence build for a moment.
One sailor, perhaps a bit bolder or smarter than the others, suddenly takes a decisive step forward. To volunteer for such an assignment is humiliating, but the sailor recognizes that it may be nothing compared to what they are in for if Shun is allowed to work up a good head of steam. A friend of his hesitates, then follows his lead and also steps forward. Shun nods.
“Very good,” he says. “Report to the foul-weather locker, you will be shown what to do.” The men respond and hurry off. Shun steps back and addresses the remaining eight sailors.
“As for the rest of you…” he pauses and delivers the next word with contempt, “…men, since such delicate work is apparently beneath you I have another assignment. It seems that a corroded pipe has contaminated the bilges with sewage. You will repair the pipe and clean the bilges until they shine…”
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RE: Small Ship, Big War - 
I have this image of the Graf Spee cutting the waves, in black and white, while a deep voice narrates the introductory scenes of "The battle of the River Plate"
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