Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2004 08:42:22 +1000 From: james robinson Subject: The Atlantic Express, Chap 5 This tale is fiction and bears no resemblance to real life, any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. The story contains sex between men and if you don't like this type of material please leave, if you are under the age allowed to read this story please go away, if it is illegal where you live to read this type of story you'd better leave as well. Your comments and ideas are eagerly sought and can be sent to justjames17@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered except flames they are extinguished on arrival. Remember Nifty is free so help keep it that way and donate a few dollars to help keep it that way. The Atlantic Express, Chapter 5, justjames17. The convoy fled to the South each ship fleeing at their best speeds as the flash of gunfire lit up the horizon, the heavy cruiser signaled for three destroyers to leave the ships and race back to assist with the attack on the Graf Spee. We were one of the chosen ones so we put the helm hard over and careened about straightening up our course to head towards the battle. The Orontes was still steaming towards the area her massive hull standing high on the water as the shells raised tall columns of spray about her as she weaved from port to starboard trying to dodge the fall of the massive 15inch shells. The enemy seemed to be concentrating on her probably misidentifying the heavy cruiser as a light cruiser so not a particular worry to her heavily armored decks. The poor old Merchant Cruiser began to suffer hits, as she steamed closer to the action, while the heavy cruiser began to fire at her maximum range trying to distract the heavy fire from the unprotected liner. The Orontes was now close enough to open fire with her 8inch guns and her decks clouded with the smoke from the discharge of her guns, she was taking many hits to her massive hull as the raider attempted to locate her magazines if a shell penetrated those she would blow apart in an instant. Her huge hull made it difficult to locate where her munitions were stored so the enemy kept savaging her mercilessly, fires glowed through the huge rents in her hull but her guns kept firing. The Cruiser was now finding the range and her shells were lighting up the dark superstructure of the Battleship, the Graf Spee realized that she had a desperate enemy, which could inflict damage on her so she began to turn away opening the range. The Cruiser kept firing while the Orontes charged valiantly towards the huge hulking raider her worn guns keeping up a rapid rate of fire as the cruiser raced off to one side dividing the enemies fire. We were signaled to carry out a torpedo attack from behind the raider so we increased speed and steamed off to reach a position from which we could attack. The Orontes began to slow as her hull began to take on water from the many shell holes punched into her waterline, her guns continued to fire but the range was opening further as the raider raced away, her shells falling uselessly into the creamy wake of the capital ship. The old liner slowed further until she wallowed still taking hits from the enemy, her interior a mass of fire smoke wreathed her hull as she rolled on the swells, her guns still firing into the distance as her valiant crew still endeavored to hit the massive ship. We drew rapidly away as the cruiser pummeled the battleship now drawing heavier fire as the enemy switched targets, she was almost totally obscured by the spray of falling shells but her luck held and she remained intact and unharmed. The Graf Spee raced for the horizon, at our speed we were slowly overhauling her but it would be a long chase, the Cruiser's captain signaled us to desist in our pursuit and return to assist the Orontes. We turned as a group and headed back towards the stricken liner when there was a sudden increase in smoke and a huge explosion as the fires reached her magazines. The once proud liner blew apart into myriad pieces the sound of her demise deafened us from two miles away and the flash blinded us momentarily, by the time the smoke cleared and the splashing pieces of ship ceased she was gone as if she never existed. She had sacrificed herself against insurmountable odds but her brave efforts had saved the convoy from destruction. We steamed to the patch of disturbed wreckage strewn filthy water to search for survivors but there was no sign of any bodies and the hungry sharks were cruising around the area, these denizens of the deep were now trained to home in on any explosions as they had learnt there were bodies to feed on in the water. We searched for some time hoping against hope but no luck the ship and her crew, were gone from the face of the ocean as if they hadn't existed. We left the area when the cruiser appeared over the horizon ordering us to return to the convoy, we turned away and increased speed to locate our errant charges. It took some time to locate our convoy but eventually we saw smoke on the horizon and headed in that direction to see most of our charges still together although spread out over a large area. We signaled the remaining escorts so they knew we were friendly and raced towards them, signaling the sad news that we had lost the Orontes. The Cruiser remained stationed on the horizon guarding against the return of Battleship but she never reappeared and had sulked off to lick her wounds and repair the damage done by the combined shellfire of the Cruiser and the poor old Orontes. The weather began to deteriorate as the barometric pressure plummeted, those huge swells were being triggered by a massive low pressure area situated ahead of us, the sky clouded over and the calm air began to move as the wind picked up. White caps soon appeared running across the surface of the mountainous swells; the spray began to fly through the rapidly cooling air. The swells caused us to lose sight of the other ships as we disappeared into the wide troughs between the seas, then gyrating we would lift up to the crest and be able to see some of the other vessels. The conditions on board our small ships gradually got worse as the spray insinuated into the air between decks, everything was damp to the touch and the decks were unsteady as the ship rolled and corkscrewed through the rough seas. The young inexperienced crewmembers began to turn green around the gills as the movement increased and soon the stench of vomit permeated the area, as they lost their equilibrium and spewed up the contents of their queasy stomachs. The destroyer reeled before the onslaught as she climbed up the glowering gray face of the massive rollers, she hesitated at the crinkling crest then lurched over the shoulder of the sea her propellers thrashing in the frothy water as they lifted towards the surface. The Chief Engineer was on duty and saved the ship by slowing the engines to stop the madly spinning prop shafts snapping or tearing the bearings in the shaft tunnels to pieces, it was a constant battle and needed an experienced hand to control the problem. Slow the engines too soon and the ship could be rolled to turn turtle and founder, too late and serious damage would be done also causing the engines to be stopped with the same result. We labored along as the gale increased the wind screaming through the rigging as we battled the implacable elements, the continuous rolling and corkscrewing tired both the body and our minds we became like automatons doing things by routine. The bridge crew had to use safety belts to avoid being swept overboard as the ship after climbing the tall seas plunged down the back of the wave to bury her bow deep into the troughs, the sea reaching the base of the superstructure before she struggled up shedding hundreds of tons of water over her bulwarks. The gun turrets were submerged as she dived and they reappeared as she climbed upright again, the rain turned to sleet as the temperature dropped the icy pellets cutting our tired salt encrusted faces. Our faces turned to bloody masks and we had to send for scarves to wrap around our exposed flesh, only our goggles visible. The wind kept up it's relentless attack our convoy became scattered due to the incredible weather, the only good point of the foul weather was that the U boats would be submerged riding the storm out down deep in the calm water below the wave action. The weather continued to pummel us until we reached Ireland, here the winds dropped slowly and the seas reduced to a more manageable size, the cloud base began to break up and watery shafts of sunlight began to pierce the somber gray gloominess, the watery light glistening on the layer of salt crystals covering the ships. The superstructures looked as though they had been dusted with icing sugar as they gleamed softly in the pale sunshine. Tom Wilson, the 17year old seaman, who had been involved with Richard in New York was the port lookout on the bridge, I watched him to see how he had recuperated from the seasickness. He seemed to be fine although very dark circles surrounded his gray eyes he was of slim build and the lack of food through the storm seemed to have slimmed him even more. He stood there his eyes locked to the binoculars as he searched the horizon, his body bent slightly at the waist with his cute bubble bum protruding from under his duffle coat. I could see why Richard had been delighted to have sex with him after he found him in the toilets in Central Park; the lad was quite attractive with his sandy blonde hair and his slender teenaged body. I strolled across and stood leaning on the railing beside him, he felt my closeness and glanced quickly at me to see who it was, he blushed bright red when he realized it was me, as he knew I'd been with Richard and Henry in the cab outside the Shore Patrol headquarters when he'd been marched out to the truck. I nodded to him and asked him how he'd got on during the gale, he swallowed heavily and replied, " Ok thank you sir, I vomited nearly the whole time, I was scared stiff all through it." I grinned at him and said, " Don't worry you aren't the only one scared, I know I was and I think most of the crew were as well." He looked back into the glasses and studied the horizon then he said, " I can't believe you were scared sir, you're the Captain, you've been through storms before I'm sure." I laughed and said, " Seaman Wilson, I have been through stormy weather before but I can guarantee you I've never been in one as severe as the one we've just survived. I was on a heavy Cruiser the last time I saw really bad weather and she was five times the size of our little destroyer. I was scared all through this storm I felt as if we were going to drive straight down into Davey Jones's locker on many occasions." He lifted his handsome young face from the rubber eye sockets of the binoculars and looked at me then grinned saying, " That makes me feel a lot better Sir, if you were afraid too then I can't be blamed for being frightened can I?" He obviously felt a lot better in himself as I patted his shoulder and walked across to the chart room, the Navigator was plotting our course so I watched over his shoulder for a while then returned to the bridge sitting on my stool and leaning my brow on the cool glass of the spray screen. The seas had dropped off and our loose convoy gradually began to take shape as the ships rejoined their lines, we were still in U boat territory although the Sunderland flying boats helped keep their heads down during daylight hours, it was when darkness descended they would creep up to attack stealthily from the blackness. My eyes kept returning to the pert little arse of young Tom as he bent to the binoculars and he noticed several times my staring when he looked my way to relieve his stressed tired eyes. I noticed his lips curl up at the corners as he smiled to himself, he was a handsome young guy but he wouldn't be interested in an old fart like me I was sure, I think he was flattered that his commanding officer was perving on him. Time passed and the sun was lowering in the western sky when young Tom called out loudly, " Periscope ten degrees off the port bow." I jumped up and brought my binoculars to my tired eyes and studied the turbulent wave tossed surface, I couldn't see anything that remotely resembled a periscope and I said, " Are you sure Wilson? I can't see anything." He replied, " Definitely a periscope Sir it is moving from port to starboard as I'm watching it. It is three quarters of the way to the horizon Sir." I realized his glasses were more powerful than my hand held pair so I called the signalman to advise the other escorts of our sighting, as I sounded close up for action stations, he leapt to the Aldis signal lamp and began to rapidly click the shutters, the other escorts soon acknowledged our message and the Cruiser dispatched two of the more modern better equipped destroyers to deal with the threat. They broke away from the convoy their bow waves creaming up level with their decks as the raced to intercept the skulking submarine. The sound of running feet sounded on the decks as the crew closed up. The reports came through the voice pipes as each department advised of their readiness. We continued on our way slowly leaving them behind as they hunted for the now submerged U boat, they were soon lost in the darkness as the sun descended below the horizon. Our nerves on edge in the black night, the clouds had again covered the sky as we steamed on towards England. The night was fraught with danger although nothing occurred we stayed at action stations, as the U boat would have certainly radioed our position to her base, which would have then advised the wolf pack of where we were. Dawn broke damp, cold and gray our tired bewhiskered faces looking gaunt and exhausted as the sea turned from black to a sullen slate colour, the mess steward brought a welcome tray of hot sweet tea to the bridge and I was glad to wrap my frozen fingers around the warm enamel mug. I sipped the hot elixir and swilled it around my mouth washing away the foul taste of the nervous all night smoking, then felt it burn it's way down my throat into my belly, it was the greatest feeling after a nerve wracking night on the freezing open bridge. The detached destroyers hove over the horizon signaling rapidly they had succeeded in locating the submarine and after many hours of hunting and depth charging had finally sent her to the bottom of the Irish Sea. I smiled, one less to worry us next convoy. We felt no sadness for the sailors manning these craft as they didn't fight fairly but relied on stealth and sneak attacks on defenseless merchant ships. We respected the sailors on the Graf Spee even though they were trying to kill us they were out in the open and could be killed even though with difficulty due to her size. The rest of our voyage was peaceful no further attacks and we were soon back at our base while the cargo ships continued up river to unload their vital supplies. We could relax a little as now our only enemy here was the nightly air raids by the Luftwaffe. The off duty crew went ashore to relax and either hit the pubs or go home to visit their families, they had a four day leave to enjoy then they would return allowing the rest of the crew to go ashore. Young Wilson went ashore to visit his parents who lived not far from the river, he walked the distance and when he reached the street where he'd lived since birth he found the whole terrace of houses gone, just a smoking pile of rubble in their place. He stood there in shock and disbelief his sea bag slipped to the dirty ground from his nerveless fingers. A policeman in a tin helmet approached him and seeing his expression asked if he lived here, the stunned lad nodded speechlessly as tears filled his gray eyes. The bobby took the young man by the elbow and said, " What is the name of your relatives and what was the number of your house?" The young sailor told him his name and the house number and the constable said, " Come with me lad, I'll take you to the office nearby they have the lists of survivors there and can help you find your parents." The officer led the stumbling lad to the small shop where the officials had set up the records office he led him inside and sat him down at the desk where he told the clerk the name of the boy and his address. The woman flicked through her paper work then she found the pages for that street and read through the lists, she looked up sadly and said, " I'm sorry Tom but your family were killed last week in a heavy air raid your house was next door to the direct hit and your parents would have died instantly. They wouldn't have suffered at all it was so sudden." Tom sat there in a stupor, his head hung looking vacantly at the floor, he didn't seem to hear or understand what they were saying, the woman called to an assistant and asked her to bring a hot cup of tea for Tom, she asked for extra sugar in it to help bolster the shocked lad. The girl brought the tea and touched Tom on the shoulder, he shook his head as if awakening from a nightmare and reached out for the mug, his hand trembling as he took the hot beverage, tea spilled over the rim of the mug as the lad trembled it ran down burning his hand. The young man seemed not to feel the scalding liquid and just sat there silently, he sipped the tea and then placed it on the desk unfinished, the two women stared sympathetically at the shocked lad and shook their heads in helplessness. Tom sat there for some time and tears began to run down his cheeks as he started to sob disconsolately the policeman standing beside him placed his hand on the shaking shoulder of the lad in silent comradeship. Tom cried himself out and they asked him what he wanted to do, he said in a flat voice, " Go back to the ship I suppose I have nowhere else to go now." The policeman said, " Well lad, I'll walk back with you if you'd like the company." Tom shrugged and picked up his sea bag and turned to the door as the two women wished him good luck, he walked out into the street and the two of them walked slowly back towards the wharves. They reached the guardhouse at the gates and the constable had a few words to the guards and they allowed him through, with Tom in tow, they walked through the mass of naval vessels till they reached the Spring Thorpe. The police officer walked up the gangway to the deck and said a few words to the Officer of the Deck and then left the still shocked lad with him and departed to go ashore and back to his duties. The Officer of the Deck turned Tom over to the duty Petty Officer who had heard what the constable had said, he took Tom below and settled him into his mess area telling the Leading Seaman what had happened ashore. The Duty Officer contacted me and told me about Tom's loss and I decided to wait till the next morning then have him brought to my cabin where I would have a long chat with him. It was great to get a good night's sleep, no disturbances at all, not even a bombing raid to disturb the darkness, I slept like a dead man and awoke refreshed in the morning when Bradley brought me a nice hot cuppa to wake me up at 7am. I stretched my muscles luxuriously reveling in the peace and quiet; no throbbing engines the deck motionless under our feet. I felt on top of the world then I remembered I had to chat to young Wilson about his bereavement and I wondered just how I was going to handle the difficult and sad situation. I had so far been lucky we had lost no men on the ship so I hadn't had to write one of those terrible letters to their next of kin, this was the first instance where I had had to discuss death with anyone on board. I wasn't looking forward to doing this especially with a young lad who was now an orphan, young Tom had enough problems being homosexual in the Navy without losing his family in the blitz. Bradley brought me my breakfast and left me to it as I ate quietly, my mind wheeling about trying to decide how I was going to handle the lost young man. I finished eating and had a shower then dressed in my best uniform and sent for Tom, I was seated at my desk when he entered saluting me mechanically I asked him to sit at the desk and he did as requested. There was no spontaneity in his actions he was as if just going through the motions, I looked into his eyes and saw blankness there, no life twinkling at all. I was astounded and worried by the change in his demeanor since we had chatted on the bridge he was like a zombie. I began by telling him how sorry I was to hear of his loss and asking if there was anything we could do to help him, he sat there as if deaf to my words, I continued on saying that the ship was now his home and the crew were now his family and we would all assist him in anyway we could. I saw his eyes cloud up then a tear trickled down his cheek, he sobbed loudly his chest heaving as if suffocating and gasping for air, he lowered his face into his cupped hands and began to cry heavily. I got up and walked around and put my arm around his heaving shoulders. He turned burying his face against my thigh as his arms locked around my legs; we stayed like that for some time until his weeping slowed. My body began to react to his actions as he began to rub his face against my crotch, I didn't want to push him away as he might have felt I was rejecting him, so I stayed there immobile in his grip, trying to control my excited reactions. Tom rubbed all over my genitals his hot breath warming my already aroused penis, he could feel my erection as it grew harder and longer. He kissed my covered knob and his hand began to squeeze my shaft through my trousers, my excitement increased proportionately to his actions and soon I was totally and almost painfully erect. Here we must leave our tale and I hope you will want to hear more soon.