inquiry.
Returning to the waterfront, Brent found Woody had the weapons load-out well in hand. The number five Tomahawk Land Attack Missile (TLAM), out of the dozen delivered, made its way into the vertical launcher in the Denver’s forward deck. Chief Cunningham’s presence reassured Brent despite growing confidence in his young first lieutenant. The COB had amassed enough experience to supervise the job on his own, but had an unwritten assignment to prop up any new junior officer’s self-confidence. Woody believed he ran the show, but Cunningham hovered about to protect the young officer from rookie mistakes.
Navy yard weapons load-out deviatedfrom the normal procedure of conducting this at an ammunition facility because Commodore Danis rearranged the process to expedite Denver’s departure. Weapons,barged from the Naval Weapons Station Seal Beach, Detachment Port Hadlock,Washington in upper Puget Sound, made their way into Denver’s vertical launchers at the Bremerton facility.
Brent dropped by the Denver wardroom for a short break and discovered Bea had called.
He dialed her number. “Hi, Den Mother. How’s life among the clerical types of Shipyard Planning?”
She replied in a mock annoyed tone, “Administrative assistant, you macho, male egotist.”
“Guilty on the two adjectives, but I’m too humble to have an ego.”
“And I’m too beautiful to be stuck in a shipyard, but here we are. Now tell me. The whole place is buzzing about Commodore Danis’s speech. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, Bea, but one thing is not going on. Our weekend on the peninsula is history. We’re like a convention of one-legged men at an ass-kicking contest.”
“Oh, damn. You’re kidding?”
“Wish I were. Things we need to do to get out of here on Monday have all but quadrupled.”
Bea asked, “Lunch maybe?”
“It’s a madhouse here, Bea. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Okay, give me a call when things settle down, either here or at home.”
“Sorry, Babe. See ya soon,” Brent said then hung up the phone and went topside to check on Woody’s loading operations.
The Zane familylovedretreating to the modest but cozy house on the Olympic Peninsula Pacific Coast. It was also a favorite escape for Bea and Brent. Dave Zane oftenjoined them, but knew when to turn his daughter a blind eye.
They all planned to spend Denver ’s final weekend at Bremerton by staying at the Digs , as Dave termed his favorite haunt. Though Dave had not mentioned it, he also invited Eric Danis to join them.
Day wore into night before Woody and the COB Cunningham completed the load-out, but not too late for a farewell drink at the Helmsman with Brent, Dan and Bea Zane.
At the Helmsman, loud blaring disco music made it impossible to communicate below a shout. Woody spotted the young secretary he met at the shipyard commander’s office that morning. He excused himself and made his way to her across the tavern. A short time later, a commotion erupted. Another young man had staked an earlier claim on the target of Woody’s interest.
Brent picked up on the dialogue as he approached the scene.
Denver ’s baby-faced ensign said, “She looks old enough to decide by herself whether she wants to dance.”
The man snapped “What the hell? You goddamn Navy guys come in here like you own the place. Hit the road you bastard, or I’m gonna pulverize that dumb face of yours.”
Woody softly cautioned, “You don’t want to fight with me.”
“Wrong, you yellow bastard. It’s you that doesn’t wanna fight with me. You got no choice, buster.”
The young man made a wild swingat Woody’s head.
While a midshipman at the Naval Academy, Ensign Elwood Parnell learned to fight by instinct and his automatic reactions helped him to become a four-time middleweight boxing champion. His feet skimmed skillfully, right foot back on toe, left forward, flat in line ninety degrees to
Returning to the waterfront, Brent found Woody had the weapons load-out well in hand. The number five Tomahawk Land Attack Missile (TLAM), out of the dozen delivered, made its way into the vertical launcher in the Denver’s forward deck. Chief Cunningham’s presence reassured Brent despite growing confidence in his young first lieutenant. The COB had amassed enough experience to supervise the job on his own, but had an unwritten assignment to prop up any new junior officer’s self-confidence. Woody believed he ran the show, but Cunningham hovered about to protect the young officer from rookie mistakes.
Navy yard weapons load-out deviatedfrom the normal procedure of conducting this at an ammunition facility because Commodore Danis rearranged the process to expedite Denver’s departure. Weapons,barged from the Naval Weapons Station Seal Beach, Detachment Port Hadlock,Washington in upper Puget Sound, made their way into Denver’s vertical launchers at the Bremerton facility.
Brent dropped by the Denver wardroom for a short break and discovered Bea had called.
He dialed her number. “Hi, Den Mother. How’s life among the clerical types of Shipyard Planning?”
She replied in a mock annoyed tone, “Administrative assistant, you macho, male egotist.”
“Guilty on the two adjectives, but I’m too humble to have an ego.”
“And I’m too beautiful to be stuck in a shipyard, but here we are. Now tell me. The whole place is buzzing about Commodore Danis’s speech. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, Bea, but one thing is not going on. Our weekend on the peninsula is history. We’re like a convention of one-legged men at an ass-kicking contest.”
“Oh, damn. You’re kidding?”
“Wish I were. Things we need to do to get out of here on Monday have all but quadrupled.”
Bea asked, “Lunch maybe?”
“It’s a madhouse here, Bea. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Okay, give me a call when things settle down, either here or at home.”
“Sorry, Babe. See ya soon,” Brent said then hung up the phone and went topside to check on Woody’s loading operations.
The Zane familylovedretreating to the modest but cozy house on the Olympic Peninsula Pacific Coast. It was also a favorite escape for Bea and Brent. Dave Zane oftenjoined them, but knew when to turn his daughter a blind eye.
They all planned to spend Denver ’s final weekend at Bremerton by staying at the Digs , as Dave termed his favorite haunt. Though Dave had not mentioned it, he also invited Eric Danis to join them.
Day wore into night before Woody and the COB Cunningham completed the load-out, but not too late for a farewell drink at the Helmsman with Brent, Dan and Bea Zane.
At the Helmsman, loud blaring disco music made it impossible to communicate below a shout. Woody spotted the young secretary he met at the shipyard commander’s office that morning. He excused himself and made his way to her across the tavern. A short time later, a commotion erupted. Another young man had staked an earlier claim on the target of Woody’s interest.
Brent picked up on the dialogue as he approached the scene.
Denver ’s baby-faced ensign said, “She looks old enough to decide by herself whether she wants to dance.”
The man snapped “What the hell? You goddamn Navy guys come in here like you own the place. Hit the road you bastard, or I’m gonna pulverize that dumb face of yours.”
Woody softly cautioned, “You don’t want to fight with me.”
“Wrong, you yellow bastard. It’s you that doesn’t wanna fight with me. You got no choice, buster.”
The young man made a wild swingat Woody’s head.
While a midshipman at the Naval Academy, Ensign Elwood Parnell learned to fight by instinct and his automatic reactions helped him to become a four-time middleweight boxing champion. His feet skimmed skillfully, right foot back on toe, left forward, flat in line ninety degrees to
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