CSA 2/1912 news

[Guinness]

A young officer entered the Crab Saloon, as it's proprietor called it, removed his cap, and after a quick look around to make sure it was safe, unbuttoned the high-necked collar on his resplendent summer uniform. It was a particularly muggy afternoon in Charleston that afternoon. Muggy enough that the young officer envied the rich families downtown that he heard were getting the new chilled air systems installed in their bedrooms. Air conditioning they'd called it. One of the engineering officers had all but given a dissertation on the subject in the wardroom recently. All the shutters over the windows were open, and the 3 ceiling fans that ran down the middle of the ceiling squeaked when the too-loose leather belts that drove them slipped occasionally.

The officer saw the figure he was looking for sitting at the bar, dressed in the same uniform he was wearing, also with his collar un-buttoned, and sat down next to him. The figure at the bar, didn't look up, but instead continued his work to dismember the small crab he had in front of him on brown paper.

"Albert, you don't look good, what's the matter?" Being off-duty, the two could be informal with one another, especially since they were old friends from their midshipmen days.

"Orders." Was all Albert, known to the service as Lt. Albert Inman, newly appointed commanding officer of Torpedo Ram number 196 said.

"Orders?" His friend Lt. (JG) Jonathan Wheeler, the gunnery officer of the Frigate Thomasville asked.

"Yes! Orders!"

There was an uncomfortable pause for the moment. Inman returned to his crab, smashing it heavily with the wooden mallet that was provided with the kit of crab dismemberment tools which were issued with every crab in this particular establishment.

"The new fleet organization?" Wheeler asked.

Inman sighed heavily. "Yes. And not a week before Laura was supposed to arrive with our things." Inman's wife was still in Newport News, where he was last posted, and 6 months pregnant no less. She was supposed to arrive sometime next week.

"So, what's the bad news then?" Wheeler asked in the nonchalantly cheerful way that so often bothered Inman. His friend had a permantly sunny worldview.

"So, with the new fleet organization, the Torpedo Ram squadrons are all being reorganized, and TR-196 is on it's way to Guaymas."

"Guyamas! On the Pacific! You'll get to go through a trans-american canal! How exciting!"

Inman just looked at Wheeler for a moment. He couldn't even really manage even to be annoyed, especially when Wheeler's usual smirk expanded into a genuine grin.

"Yes, exciting! Off to hot, dry Sonora!"

"So I guess this disrupts your plans with Laura, when do you leave?"

"Be prepared to depart no later than July 9th." Inman quoted his orders.

"So, what's Laura going to do? Are there even any married officers quarters in Guaymas?"

"I haven't told her yet. I guess I need to go to the telegraph office today. I hope she can stay in that house in Newport News. Or maybe better yet, she can move back with her parents in Atlanta."

"Not even going to try to move her to Sonora?"

"There's not enough time before the baby will be born. After that, it's not a good idea to try to make that trip with a newborn. And once it is a good idea, God willing, I'll be posted to a bigger ship, and based somewhere else."

"I guess I shouldn't tell you where this big reorganization has me going then." Wheeler said.

Inman just looked sideways at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

"Why nowhere! I've been posted to the Nuevo Leon. Not sure exactly what I'll be doing yet."

Inman sighed again. This was typical. Wheeler had never been the officer Inman was, and both men knew it. He tended to be too close to the men, and not always as detail oriented as he should be. He was the first to admit he was nowhere near ready for the command of a ship, which Inman had. Still, any officer on board the fleet's flagship had more prestige than the captain of a mere Torpedo Ram.

"Well, I guess that means you don't have to break up with that nice young society lady you've been seeing."

"Or that other nice young lady in the hospitality house on Washington Square either!", Wheeler exclaimed.

"Typical." Inman thought to himself, as his friend flagged down the bartender to order them both a round of beer.

[Desertfox]

July? Sonora? My pities for the officer. He is soooo going to wish for one of them Air Conditioners. Course if he survives, he will never complain about a mere 100 degrees again.