Excerpt from Forgotten Voyage Chapter 21
The Galley was a popular gathering place whether in port or at sea.
Richard (Frog or Bullfrog) Ellis, an oiler, croaked, “Does anybody have any plans?”
Frog was from Kentucky. His nickname came not only from his croaky voice but also from the occasional belch, which sounded somewhat like an extra large bullfrog. A ‘born again Christian,’ Frog was another of the Bible readers although it wasn’t a daily thing with him and he didn’t try to push it on anyone. Someone once when asked why he didn’t talk more about his faith.
“I’d rather people judge me more by my actions than my words. Besides, I don’t want anybody using me for their moral compass, I don’t always know which way I’m going myself,” said Frog.
Although it seemed incongruous, Frog also had a temper. He was slow to anger but once riled up he was a ferocious and enthusiastic fighter. He liked to drink hard liquor and would occasionally get himself in trouble. When asked about his choice of drink he responded that wine upset his stomach.
“Has anyone been to Halifax before?” asked Cobb.
Cobb was new to the crew and didn’t yet have a nickname.
“We passed through here on the last trip, but the weather was bad enough to stay on board,” answered Will.
“We didn’t have much layover time either,” added Billy.
Billy Brighton was a young man from Amish country in Pennsylvania. His hair was blond and he was thin and of medium height. He always gave a measured response and never had a bad thing to say about anyone. His eyes were calm and considerate. However, when he looked at you, the intensity of his eyes caught your attention. To watch him one would expect him to have a grass stalk flopping up and down in his mouth as he talked. He didn’t talk much, but when he did talk, people usually listened.
“Hey, I’ve heard there are some shows available for us and they’re free,” said Horace Crow one of the oilers.
Wildcat was his nickname and was one of those ironic names like tiny, which was usually reserved for the largest man in a group. The Wildcat was even tempered, calm to the point of being contemplative, in his thirties and had apparently worked hard all his life. The black crew (workers in the engine room) and Chief Engineer accepted and liked him.
“I’d never heard of Halifax before, except for blimp that blew up,” said Billy.
“A blimp blew up in Halifax?” drawled Howard Ford.
Howard Ford, sometimes called Howie, was a dark haired farm boy from Georgia. His syrupy southern accent belied his attention, which was always razor edged, but rarely unsheathed. Like Billy, he studied the Bible on a regular basis, which both had done all their lives.
“No it blew up somewhere in the states,” replied Billy.
“I think he’s talking about the Hindenburg. It blew up trying to land in New Jersey,” said Jerry Goldstein, a Brooklyn native.
Slick was Jerry’s nickname. Always talking at a mile a minute and yet never saying quite the same thing twice. It took a while for the crew to follow his nervous, staccato speaking style. Black hair and deep eyes with a Mediterranean complexion he was always trying to get up a card game or dice game. It was against ship’s rules but there was always a time and place for a careful game. Since he was terrible at both card games and dice his crewmates were protective of him and wouldn’t play.
“Well, if it was a German blimp they ought to give a medal to whoever did it,” said Slim Ramsey a tall thin Texan.
Alex (Slim) Ramsey often started his sentences with ‘well’ and a pause as if he had decided to compose the sentence after he started talking. There was often an additional pause here and there, probably for effect. Unfortunately, the pauses didn’t improve his reasoning process. At well over six feet tall, Slim was well suited for his primary job handing ammunition up from lower levels. Slim was deceptively strong with exceptional stamina.
“Nah, this was years ago at Lakehurst Naval Air Station. It was an accident and nobody knows what happened. It’s the one you see falling down afire with the announcer screaming ‘Oh the humanity’,” said Jerry.
“Oh the inhumanity is more like it,” retorted Billy.
“Humanity, inhumanity, flammable, inflammable; it blowed up.” said Slim.
“Excuse my friend, his vocabulary is questionable at best. He knows the words, but sometimes exhibits a paucity of proper expression,” said Bernard (Bernie) Wilson.
Bernie added, “Remember, he’s from Texas.”
Bernie was, from East Tennessee and ‘damn proud of it.’
Bernie was one of the smaller members of the Armed Guard. His size made him perfect as an anti-aircraft gunner. When an anti-aircraft gun was firing on an airborne target, it would track up to vertical as the plane passed overhead. As it did, the gunner would pivot and follow its prey down to the horizon if for the ship’s superstructure allowed. The gunner would go from nearly standing on his toes to lying on his back to follow the targets. Some of the other Armed Guard could perform the necessary maneuver only with great difficulty. For example, Slim certainly didn’t fit the job.
Bernie also had an ‘eye’. During gunnery practice, Bernie usually hit his target within the first three rounds. Sometimes, if he continued, he would shoot round holes out of the towed aerial targets. Once he intentionally shot out the target supports on a towed barge leaving nothing for other gunners to aim at. He never admitted it, but his team knew he did it because they had to pay on the bet he made.
“Why are you always picking on Slim?” asked Jerry.
“Well it’s like this.” began Bernie.
There was a collective groan because this meant the start another of Bernie’s stories. Sometimes they were quite amusing, but other times they could be quite tedious.
“You all know about the city of Houston, the capital of Texas. It’s named after the first Texas governor Sam Houston, who was a hero of the Alamo.”
Houston wasn’t actually at the Alamo. He was attempting to round up support for them. Bernie was not one to ruin a good story with a fact. Bernie had the attention of his shipmates and most heads were nodding in recognition.
“Long before he was a Texas hero and governor, he was trained by the Great State of Tennessee as our sixth governor. He wasn’t the only Tennessean to support the Alamo. Some of Tennessee’s finest died in the defense of the Alamo including our Congressman Davy Crockett. The result of their actions not only delayed Santa Anna’s armies for days, but provided a rallying point for the independence of Texas and its eventual statehood.”
“Remember the Alamo!” said Slim passionately.
Bernie slowly looked around the room. He waited until he had regained the group’s complete attention.
“And since my state is in large part, responsible for Texas being in the Union; and since I am the only person representing Tennessee here; I would like to be the first to apologize for the precipitous actions of my fellow Volunteers in helping Texas join the Union and beg your forgiveness.”
The laughter was so raucous the cook came out to see what was going on.
Slim waited for the furor to die down of its own accord.
“Keep in mind that Tennessee is the home of the world’s greatest liar’s competition,” said Slim.
This time, Bernie waited for the laughter to subside and raised a finger for attention.
“Also, keep in mind that Texans are disqualified from our liar’s competition because of their professional status.”
The group was still laughing when the Captain entered. He had an empty cup in his hand.