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Cuttlefish -> RE: Small Ship, Big War (9/30/2008 9:31:10 PM)
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August 12, 1944
Location: 95 miles northeast of Legaspi
Course: North
Attached to: TF 23
Mission: Air combat
System Damage: 2
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 348
Orders: Strike Allied shipping at and around Ulithi
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Ensign Izu enters the officer’s wardroom and casually tosses his cap onto the table, where it lands upside-down. The table’s only occupant, Ensign Konada, stares at it over the book he is reading while Izu prepares a cup of tea. Finally Konada can stand it no longer. He picks up the cap, brushes it off, and sets it down right-side up precisely in the middle of the table.
Izu finishes his tea and turns towards the table just as the ship gives a lurch. Izu compensates but a small amount of tea still sloshes out of his cup.
“It’s that damned quartering sea,” he says, sitting down. Konada nods in understanding. The sea is running fairly strongly from the southeast and as the waves overtake the ship Hibiki’s stern tends to fall off into the trough. This not only causes the ship to lurch but gives the helmsman fits keeping the destroyer exactly on course.
“I wonder if it will be like this all the way back to Japan,” Konada says.
“We aren’t going back to Japan,” says Izu. “Not yet, anyway. We just got a signal from Ozawa. All ships are to hold position off Legaspi. We’re going to be steaming in circles again.”
“I see,” says Konada. “What is the captain’s mood?”
Izu shrugs. “He just set his jaw a little and acknowledged the order,” he says. “You know the captain. He does not conceal his temper very well so he is probably resigned to these random movements.”
“Apparently random,” corrects Konada a little stiffly. “No doubt Admiral Ozawa knows what he is doing.”
Izu sips his tea, timing the movement to the roll of the ship. “Oh, no doubt,” he says. “That’s what all those bars on an admiral’s sleeve mean, after all, that they are never as confused and uncertain as the rest of us.”
Konada studies Izu’s face but cannot tell if his fellow ensign is being sarcastic or not. He decides to let it go. Instead he looks over at the small puddle of tea Izu spilled. The movement of the ship has given it a shape something like an octopus. “Shall we clean that up?” he asks.
“No,” says Izu casually. “Things like that are why the gods gave mops to enlisted men.”
“Ah,” says Konada. He looks back down at his book for a moment, then glances back over at the puddle. Izu sips his tea. Finally Konada can stand it no longer. He goes over to the counter, grabs a rag, and cleans up the spill. Izu says nothing but only sips his tea again, an action that also conceals the small smile on his face.
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