View Full Version : The Tale of The Ruptured Duck - Part 4 Socko's Birthday Present (Part 2)

07-09-2008, 08:25 PM

We pick up the story again the storeroom in the back of "The Port Hole"</span>

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I closed the door with a slam, but Socko remained unresponsive; .....I nudged him with my foot, ...and again there was no reaction at all.

It was then that I noticed several knife slashes on his cotton person; ....and I thought to myself; "...Oh Jeez! ...could he be dead???"

I gently rolled him over, and noted several more slashes in the area of his face and neck: .....It looked bad, .......but how can you tell if a sock is dead????

As I was considering this question, (...and wondering exactly where one is supposed to put one's mouth when giving a sock CPR) .....his one brass eye turned towards me, and a slight, .....VERY slight grin appeared:

"Oh! ......Hi!" he said.

"Hey!" I replied; ".....You've been a busy little ball of lint!"

"What?? ......Oh! .....You mean those Luftwaffe Guys???" he replied; "...Well, ....they wanted to dance, .....And my card was open, .....So I obliged them!"

"But did you have to kill all of them???" I asked.

"I didn't!" He protested with a scowl; "...One got away! .......I must be getting old or something!"

"Well, ......we'd better get back to the boat before ˜the one who got away' finds enough people who will believe his story!" I suggested.

"What??" Socko asked; ".....You mean go back to the same old hum-drum, mind-numbing krap?? .....I'd rather stay here and shoot gender confused flyboys!"

He began stroking the empty Schmeiser, and asked; "You haven't seen any MP-40 clips around here, ....have you??"

"I think I have something that you'll find to be a bit more interesting!" I replied.

"What??" he asked, in a particularly skeptical and intolerant tone.

"Happy Birthday!" I said as I dropped the cardboard tube I had been carrying into his lap.

"How do you know it's my birthday?" he demanded.

"Is it really your birthday?" I asked in complete surprise.

"No" he responded; ".....But I have a firm policy of never turning down presents!"

He then started to examine the cardboard tube, and quickly removed the endcap: .....He slid the round slowly out, ...... and stared at it reverently, .....like a crusading knight holding the Holy Grail.


Looking at me sideways, he asked; "You don't mean to tell me.................."

"Yup!" I said.

"Let's go! .......I HAVE to see this!" he said, giggling hysterically.

"...But I think I'll keep this too!" He said, ....pausing to grab the Schmeisser off the floor.

We slipped out the same side door through which I had escaped the day before, and headed for the dockyard.


When we arrived at the Ruptured Duck, Socko was speechless. Standing there on the quay, he looked first at the new 37mm, and then at me: .....and then back at the 37mm.

"You got that for me???" He asked.

I simply nodded.

"Schwanz..." he said; "...I might have misjudged you! ...You just might be OK!"

With that, he ran down the gangplank, and did everything short of making love to the new gun: ....He stroked the barrel, .....he fondled the control wheels, ....and then he started talking quietly to the breach-block, .....in the same way he used to talk to his 20mm guns.


He then slipped the round I had previously given him into the breach, and jumped into the gunner's seat. Spinning the handwheels, he zeroed in on the navigational light standard on the near end of the breakwater, and fired:

There was an incredibly loud "KRRRACK!!", and a two meter long tongue of bright blue-white and orange flame leapt from the muzzle as the gun launched it's 1000 meter-per-second projectile. It was as though someone had instantaneously turned on an immense oxy-acetylene torch, and then, just as quickly, turned it off.

...The light assembly exploded into tiny bits.


"Socko..." I said patiently, ...trying to ignore the ringing in my ears; ".....I really wish you would stop doing things like that!"

"Aw come on!" he said with a pout; "....How could I NOT try it out???

The grin on his face told me that his problems with Depression were probably in the past.


Socko spent the rest of the day supervising the stowage of his precious 37mm ammo.

Because the nine round crates were not a particularly convenient size for storage, he only kept about twenty of them. "They're handy for getting a lot of rounds up on deck quickly." He explained.

The rest of the rounds in their cardboard tubes were stowed individually around the boat.

There were cardboard tubes EVERYWHERE! They were stuffed into the food lockers. They were in the Head. They were taped (using several turns of friction tape) to the overhead piping. The Cook was using one to stir the soup. I even found two under my pillow.

But finally the job of getting them all tucked away was done: .........Which was a good thing because we had orders to sail at 09:00 the next morning.


It was 08:45 on a perfectly delightful, bright sunny summer morning in Brest. The Crew was on board, and all accounted for, ....Johann had "His Girls" turning over, .....I was again enjoying that heady aroma of salt water and diesel exhaust, ....the Band was playing stirring, patriotic music (after solemnly promising Socko that they would finish up the set with "Little Brown Jug"), ....and the prostitutes and British agents were standing on the quay cheering, smiling, and waiving "Bye-Bye": ....In short, there was nothing at all wrong with the World!

....And, of course, ...five minutes later everything changed.

A motorcycle pulled up at our gangplank, and a messenger dismounted. He hurried down the gangplank, and over to the Conning Tower.

He Looked up at me, extended an official looking envelope in my direction, and said; ......."Herr Kaleun, ...This is for you!"

I took the envelope, signed the messenger's receipt, ...and dismissed him.

The envelope contained but one page:


"Hmmmm......." I thought; "...So the local branch of the Luftwaffe has declared war on The Ruptured Duck!"

There was really no question in my mind about what the correct immediate course of action was: .....We would put to Sea as planned, and dare them to do their worst! .....After all, The Ruptured Duck was now the fastest, smallest, most-heavily armed-per-square-foot target any of those "Stick-Handlers" had ever gone up against!

.....And more to the point, .....only a drooling, suicidal moron would ever even consider "ratting out" Socko!

If it was a choice between going up against Socko, ....or the entire Luftwaffe, .......well, ....let's just say that the decision was a "No-Brainer"!!

I figured that Socko should know what was going on, ....so I called him over, and handed him the letter. ........He read it over twice, and then began to cackle with delight.

"So they still want to play!! .........Cool! .......I'm sure we can keep them entertained!"

"I'm glad to see that you're not worried." I remarked.

"WORRIED!" giggled Socko; "..What's to worry about??? ......Those thong wearing little girls are brave enough when they're bombing merchants and tankers: ...But show them an AA gun, .....and suddenly they're all headed back to the "Watch My 6" for drinks and some butt pinching!"

(The "Watch My 6" was a blue bar just outside the airbase, and THE number one Luftwaffe hangout.)

"OK....." I replied; ".....But keep your eyes open! .....I'm sure you've noticed that we have some unfriendly company."

Without actually pointing, ....but with a meaningful glance, I directed Socko's attention to the two guys in Luftwaffe uniforms standing on the very end of the quay. They looked like a couple of pit bulls looking for someone to bite.

"Yeah, .....I saw them earlier." Socko replied; "...and I wondered what they were doing here: .....But this," he said holding up the letter; "explains it all!"

.....And without another word, Socko scurried back to the wintergarten 20mm, snapped in two magazines, and sprayed the end of the quay with 20mm HE rounds. The two Luftwaffe spies were quicker than expected, and managed to save themselves by diving into the water on the other side of the quay.

"DAMN!!!!!" screamed Socko; "...They saw me swing the gun around!!"

With a grin, I gave the orders for the dock-hands (most of whom were still face down on the ground and covering their heads with their hands) to pull back the gangplank, and cast off.

"Nervous bunch, ....aren't they??" remarked Socko.

Over on the quay, the Band was picking themselves up off the ground, and re-organizing their ranks: .....And within seconds they had broken into one of the better renditions of "Little Brown Jug" I had ever heard.

I guess the word got around about what happened to that "other band" in Lorient.

I yelled down the hatch; "OK Johann, .....Ahead One Third!" .....and we motored casually out of our slip.

.....Leaving our two Luftwaffe friends treading water to the tune of "Little Brown Jug".


Our orders directed us to AM-95 again; .....A thing that seemed rather ominous now, ...in light of everything that had happened in the past couple of days: ....But aside from being shadowed by a couple of ME-109s, nothing happened to make our departure from Brest in any way remarkable.

Socko stayed close to his 37mm, ...clearly hoping that one of the 109's might come a little too close.

"Maybe I should try bread crumbs!" he said with grin.

I spent the trip down-channel trying to think of a way to put a positive spin on log entries that dealt with shooting down German planes. ( ...since it seemed likely that I would be making such log entries in the near future.)

I waited until there were no contacts of any sort in sight, (Our two 109s having turned back for fuel) ....ordered the boat to periscope depth, ...and took "the deep-water turn" west of Ushant and headed north. Since our last observed course was 270, I was hoping that being discrete about our true course might buy us a few hours of peace.

I decided to plot our course through the gap between Lands End and Scilly; .....Figuring that this natural "choke point" might put some easy targets within our reach.

....And so it proved. It was just sunset, and we were "in the gap", ....when the sonar operator reported "Sound Contact, bearing 030, ......closing!"

"What have we got?" I asked.

"It sounds like a small merchant sir!"

"Do you hear anything else??"

"No Sir! ....It sounds like she's alone!"

"OK" I replied; "...Surface the boat!"

This early in the cruise, I didn't feel like wasting a torpedo on something small: ....and besides, I knew that Socko was simply frantic to find something real to shoot at with his new gun.

I grinned at him, and said; "Yeah! .....It's all yours!"

He giggled maniacally, and said; "Schwanz, .....I'm going to set you up with the most spectacular pair of stockings you ever saw!" (I hoped that none of the people I knew ever heard THAT promise quoted out of context!)

I actually had to hold him back from trying to open the hatch before the boat had broken the surface; .........But as soon as the Conning Tower was above water, he was out the hatch, dragging two nine round cases of 37mm ammo behind.

The man who was assigned to be Socko's loader paused to give me one terrified look, and then raced up the ladder in an effort to get to the 37mm before Socko had reason to become annoyed with him.

When I got to the bridge, Socko was already in the gunner's seat, zeroing in on the merchant, and the loader was just sliding the first half meter long 37mm round into the gun's breech.

Even though the merchant was still 3500 meters away, ....Socko fired as soon as the breechblock closed.

This time I was ready: .....I had my fingers in my ears!

Again, the dazzling muzzle flash belched forth, and only a second or two later, there was an explosion on the merchant's bridge. This was followed by six more deafening reports and six more explosions in rapid succession, as Socko continued to fire as fast as the gun was loaded.

Before Socko could fire an eighth round, there was a huge secondary explosion on the merchant, and she began to settle rapidly.


From the time we broke the surface, the whole thing had taken two minutes.

"Oooooh!" giggled Socko; "...It looks like he was carrying something naughty!!"

"It's a shame;" he continued; ".....That was just like the bar-fight the other day: ....Over WAY too soon!"

I was thinking to myself that it was more like my sex life: .....But I didn't want to dwell on THAT unfortunate analogy.


Since the Sun was in the process of setting, I decided to stay on the surface, and save the batteries. I posted a watch crew that I trusted to stay mostly awake, and went below.

Arriving at my bunk, I was greeted by the sight of Socko sitting in my underwear drawer with his old can of "Brasso" beside him, busily polishing a 37mm round.

"Clean bullets are happy bullets!" he said with a wink.

"And loud too!" I added.

"Yeah! .....Mary has a real bark, ....doesn't she??" He replied with a delighted grin.

"Mary?????" I asked with a bewildered look.

"Yeah! ....Mary!" he said with a scowl; "...I decided to name all my guns: ....That way they always know which one I'm talking to, and the others don't get jealous!"

"Oh..." I said, ......taking a moment to digest this concept; "...But why ˜Mary'??"

"Well..." he began; ".....The first time I fired her today, ....the very first thing that popped out of my loaders mouth was "Mary mother of God!!!!!!!" .......And the name stuck."

"OK........., That makes sense." I replied as I slid into my bunk. (I was a little horrified to discover that in a peculiar, perverse way, it actually did make sense to me!)

My bunk wasn't quite as comfortable as it had been before, as my feet now had to share the last 30 cm or so with the nose of a T3 torpedo. Socko had moved it aft a bit to make room for his ammo boxes.

As a lay there, waiting for sleep, and contemplating how complex my life had become, I amused myself by twirling the little "propeller thingy" on the nose of the T3 with my big toe: .......And wondering how many "toe flips" it would take to actually arm the warhead.


The rest of the night passed uneventfully: ....I slept, .....Socko polished his 37mm rounds, and the old Duck rumbled on.

According to the Watch's log entries, an Elco Torpedo Boat passed by a couple of times, ...but they didn't notice the Duck's small silhouette: ......They were too busily engaged in towing a guy who was enjoying a moonlit water-skiing expedition.

By dawn, we were in the southwestern corner of AM-95, and I ordered the Duck to periscope depth.

I ordered "Ahead slow", and instructed the Sonar Guy to turn off his music and start listening for contacts. Our orders said patrol AM-95 for 24 hours; ....and that's what I was going to do: .......But I really wanted out of this shallow, almost land-locked puddle as soon as possible.

I found myself hoping that we wouldn't get any contacts, ...but I knew THAT wasn't realistic. 75% of the shipping headed for England came around either the top or bottom of Ireland. It was likely that we would have our fill of contacts.

.....And so it proved.

It was just 08:00 when the Sonar Guy yelled out; "Sound contact! Long Range! Bearing 045, ....Closing!"

...and after a moment he added; "Sounds like a merchant Sir! ......Big, slow screws! .......Maybe a big tanker!"

For a change, I beat Socko to the periscope, swung it to 045, and started looking: ....But a light surface fog was limiting visibility to maybe 4 km.

"Sonar" I said; "..What is your range estimate???"

"About 10,000 meters Sir!" he replied

Turning to the Chief, I said; "I want T3s in all three tubes!"

The Chief acknowledged the order and went forward to check the torpedo crew himself.

Returning to the periscope, I began to sweep the horizon around 045 again in the hope of catching a glimpse through the fog. It was then that I was distracted by someone pulling on my sleeve.

I looked around, and there was Socko, ...looking agitated and upset.

"Schwanz! ......I want to shoot the Tanker! He whispered.

"No!" I replied; "...This is a big one, and we won't have time for you to peck it full of holes! ....We need to sink it fast, and then get the hell out of here!"

"I want to shoot the big boat!"

"NO!" I said again; "....We're going to do it with a three torpedo spread; ....and I'll even let you push the button!"

"It's not the same!!" he screamed.

...And then in a quieter tone he continued; "Look, ....I promise I'll make it quick! .....No playing around, ...or teasing it, ...or even shooting lifeboats! ......I PROMISE!!!!"

Thinking about it, I realized that his promise to not waste time shooting lifeboats indicated real sincerity: ....And adding that to my concerns that he might have a psychotic episode if I refused; ...I made what I knew, deep down inside, to be a bad decision, ...and said; "OK, ..........I'll let you shoot the Big Boat!"

I ordered the boat to the surface and changed course to intercept.


Even though the tanker was over eight kilometers away, Socko was already at his 37mm gun, anxiously waiting for the range to close.

I had to smile: ......This was more like the old Socko we all know and fear!

I was about to ask him if he was going to write his name on the side of THIS one, when my thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched yell from the wintergarten 20mm gunner.

"AIRCRAFT 9:00 HIGH!!!!!" He screamed as he opened fire with his gun.

I grabbed my binoculars, and looked to 9:00, just as the afterdeck 20mm gunner added his fire to the effort. There they were: ....Two Hurricanes! .....And they were coming in full throttle, on what was obviously going to be a strafing run.

They were now only about 2000 meters out, and their 20mm slugs were starting to chew up the surface of the ocean in two broad lanes headed directly for the Duck.

"SCREW THIS!!!" I thought, ...and yelled down the open hatch; "COME TO COURSE 00, ....ALL AHEAD FLANK!!!".

Even as some of the 20mm rounds began to sizzle past, and slap into the deck gratings, I had to notice how well Socko's and Johan's engine work had paid off: ....The old Ruptured Duck accelerated smartly, leaning into the turn like a racing motorcycle.

The two Hurricanes screamed past, doing at least 300 knots, ...and the sweet roar of their Merlin V-12s was clearly heard even over our continuous 20mm fire and our diesels.

As the Duck came to the new course, Socko looked back over his shoulder at me with an annoyed glare.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"SOCKO!" I screamed, .....utterly amazed that he had apparently missed the whole first strafing run: ......Totally at a loss for words, ...I simply pointed at the two Hurricanes, which were already banking steeply around in order to set up for a second pass.

Socko just stared at them for a few moments, ....quietly watching as they came around, and lined up for their next pass; .........Then, with the air of a man who has been disturbed while in the act of creating a great work of art, Socko reluctantly cranked his 37mm around to address the two intruders.

Once again, they opened fire at about 2000 meters; .....But this time it was different: .....This time they were dealing with an annoyed Socko!


They were within 1500 meters, and once again, 20mm rounds were tearing by (and into) the Duck, when Socko fired one shot: .....It hit the right hand Hurricane squarely on the propeller spinner, and the whole front half of the aircraft disappeared in a brilliant fireball.


The remaining Hurricane (which was smoking due to a couple of 20mm hits it collected on it's first pass) had now had enough. Aborting his strafing run he pealed off to the right; .....His aircraft making a little silhouette "X" in the sky.

Well, ....for Socko, ..."X marks the spot"! He fired once more, hitting the Hurricane right at the intersection of the "X". Both wings promptly came off, and the fuselage broke in half. I watched, fascinated, as the whole, disassociated mess tumbled into the sea.

"NOW will you turn back to 090 so that I can shoot the Tanker??" Socko growled.

Seemingly in answer to his question, an enormous geyser of water leapt into existence just 10 meters off our port beam. It was the sort of large splash that a four or five inch shell makes when it plunges into the water.

I was just thinking how odd that was, when the wintergarten 20mm gunner shrieked; "DESTROYER BEARING 180, MEDIUM RANGE!!!!"

I spun around, and looking aft, I could see him coming out of the light surface fog. It looked like a V&W class, ......And he was open for business!

"It's a setup!!!" I yelled to the Watch Officer; "...The Hurricanes, and now a DD: .....They were using the Tanker for bait!!"

The DD was only about 5000 meters astern, and her two forward 4" guns were firing as fast as they could be worked. In addition to that, her 40mm AA guns were spraying rounds everywhere. There were large and small splashes on the surface of the sea all around us.

"Bring us to course 090, PLEASE!" snarled Socko from the foredeck, ....this time with considerable menace in his voice.

"SOCKO!" I shouted; "Forget the damn Tanker!! .....we've got a REAL problem here!!"

He hopped down from his gun, and with a very athletic jump, caught the edge of the combing, and dropped into the bridge with me.

Grabbing me by the collar, he pulled my face to within inches of his, and said; "Look Tina!! .....right now, the only way I can engage that Bozo Tin Can is to shoot THROUGH your goddam Conning Tower!! ......Is that REALLY what you want me to do????"

With the smell of over-heated cotton filling my nostrils, ...I quickly shook my head.

"Good!" he said in a tone that indicated no forgiveness whatsoever; "......Then please come to 090!"

"But Socko!" I pleaded; ".....We've got to dive!! ......We won't last five minutes up here!"

At that, he further tightened his grip on my collar, and snarled; "OK Little Girl, ...pay attention! .....We had this same conversation just last cruise!! .....We're in shallow water again, and that jerk already knows where we are! The only thing diving is going to get you is a few final minutes for you and your crew of fem-bots to finish saying your friggin "Hail Marys"!!!!! .........If you want to live to see "The Port Hole" again, we've got to shoot this illegitimate-son-of-a-hog-farmer right between the eyes, right now!!"

....And then, releasing my collar, he yelled down the hatch "Come to 090!"

He hopped back down to his gun, pulled the AA shell out of the chamber, threw it overboard, and replaced it with an AP round. He then turned to his loader, and said; "Get a couple more boxes of AP; ......We're gonna need them!"

We were still making max revolutions after the air attack, but even so, the V&W was gaining on us with a clear ten to twelve knot advantage. Socko would not have much time to work one of his miracles.

Once again, the old Duck heeled over into a 90 degree turn, and I had to brace myself in order to keep my footing.

This turn seemed to surprise the DD, ...as most of his gunfire continued to chew up the ocean along our previous course. ......But just as I was tempted to grin at this, there was a mind-numbing blast from the aft deck.

Due to our speed, the smoke quickly cleared away, and I was able to see that a 4" shell had struck us just aft of the aftdeck 20mm; .......Leaving a jagged hole in the deck gratings, ...and the gunner's decapitated body lying next to his gun.

Socko went racing aft, ...and peering into the gaping hole in the deck gratings, he yelled: "Johan!!??"

To my amazement and horror, I heard Johan answer! The pressure hull was obviously also holed!

"Johan!" Socko continued; "Give it everything you've got! .......PUSH THE RED BUTTON!!"

"OH BABY!!!!!!" Johan squealed in reply.

As I yelled for another gunner, the Watch Officer came racing up the ladder.

"Sir! .....Both electric motors and the compressor destroyed! .....And the motor room is taking water!"

"Casualties??" I asked.

"One dead, two wounded, ....Sir!"

"OK" I said; ".....Get damage control working on some sort of combat patch, so that we can at least slow down the flooding!"

"Yes Sir!"

The W.O. was just raising his hand to salute, when Johan "hit the Red Button". The roar of the diesels went up a full octave, and the little boat surged ahead even faster. The W.O., caught by surprise by the sudden acceleration, lost his footing and fell head-first down the hatch.

"I'll bet that THAT leaves a mark!" I thought to myself.

As the replacement gunner raced for the aft 20mm, I yelled to both him and the wintergarten 20mm gunner: "Fire at the bridge and gun positions! ......Try to silence some of those damn guns!"

I had no sooner finished saying that, when I heard the sharp bark of Socko's 37mm. His shot hit the DD's #1 gun turret squarely, dismounting it, and apparently killing the crew.

The DD's #2 turret was still firing furiously, clearly intent on revenge; .....But the DD had now closed to within easy 20mm range, and as I watched I could see a well controlled burst from the wintergarten 20mm walk across the face of the turret. The 20mm AP rounds tore through the thin armor, and found some of the "ready ammo"; .....As evidenced by the large secondary explosion that followed immediately.

Socko fired three more times in quick succession, and this time his target was the DD's bridge. Smoke was billowing from the shattered windows, and I could see a fire-fighting party trying to get up the stairs to deal with the problem: ...But they never made it. Another well placed burst of 20mm swept them away.

.....But one of the DD's 40mm positions was either very well served, or very lucky: ........Three 40mm rounds walked down the Duck's foredeck; ....Two striking ahead of the 37mm and one striking between it and the Conning tower.

I ran to the front of the bridge to see what had happened: ....There were three jagged holes in the deck gratings, and what remained of Socko's loader lay on the deck next to the gun. He had apparently been hit by the third 40mm round before it impacted on the deck grating, and now looked more like a pile of slaughterhouse floor sweepings than anything else.

There were also several small, smoking holes in Socko, ....but he didn't seem to notice.

"Get me another damn loader!" he screamed; ".....And give me Hard Right Rudder and HOLD it there!!!"

I didn't have to ask why: .....The one thing the DD couldn't do was out-turn The Duck.

But between our casualties and the needs of the damage control party, there wasn't a trained loader available, so I leapt down to the deck to do it myself. By the time I reached the 37mm, the Duck was already turning inside of the DD, and Socko, having reloaded by himself, was firing into the side of the DD.


The DD's two aft gun positions were now able to bear, but the range was now very short, and our high speed circular path made the Duck a difficult target. .....And our 20mm gunners were making life on deck very difficult over there.

Meanwhile, Socko was banging away at the side of the DD as rapidly as I could reload.

"It's got to be around there somewhere...." He mumbled as he slapped another AP round into the hull of the DD, just ahead of the superstructure.

"What's got to be there?" I asked.

"I'm sure it's right about there! ....They just don't move things like that around!" he mumbled as he fired again.

"What are you looking for??" I shouted.

Still ignoring me, he mumbled; "......maybe a little further aft."

"Socko!" I screamed; "....If you told me what you're looking for, maybe I could help! ..............WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR????"

Socko fired again, and this time was rewarded by a huge explosion; ...The resulting shock wave blew me out of my seat on the gun, and almost over the side.


"The Forward Magazine, ....Of course!." He said, looking down at me with an evil grin; ....And then he added: "Get up off your ***; ..... you goof!"

He then jumped up to the bridge, and yelled down the hatch; "Come to course 180, ahead Standard."

Having given the necessary orders, he turned to watch the DD, ......her stern and propellers already completely out of the water, as she slowly slid beneath the surface.

In the reddish glow of the setting Sun, only a couple of liferafts could be seen bobbing on the surface amid the oil and debris. The explosion had apparently caught them all by surprise. I tried to feel sorry for the guys in the rafts, but it wasn't really a sincere feeling: .....I had my own crippled boat and my own casualties to deal with.

As I joined Socko on the bridge, he remarked; "Well, .........I think we've had enough fun. ...It's time to go home!

He paused to examine a couple of the burnt holes produced by the 40mm fragments, and then announced; "I'm going to turn in now: ....It looks like I have a little bit of personal darning to do!"

" ..........Do you think you can get us home without screwing up??" He asked as he disappeared down the hatch.

A moment later, his head re-appeared, and he said; "...........And remember!!! ...NO DIVING WITH BIG HOLES IN THE BOAT!!"

And with that, he slid down the ladder singing; "I got a girl, her name is Sal ....She won't give but her sister will...........".

Socko was back.

Stay tuned for the next installment:

The Tale of The Ruptured Duck – Part 5: War with the Luftwaffe

07-10-2008, 05:19 AM
War WITH the Luftwaffe ? http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/blink.gif

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/shady.gif Well they better should stay out of Socko's "course".

He's not the kind cotton which like joint operations http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

07-10-2008, 12:11 PM
What? He didn't demand to go after the tanker after the DD was dealt with??? Guess even Socko knows some limits! http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

Wonderful story!

07-10-2008, 04:02 PM
Lol nice. Great story klcarroll. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/25.gif

07-10-2008, 08:28 PM
I amused myself by twirling the little "propeller thingy" on the nose of the T3 with my big toe: .......And wondering how many "toe flips" it would take to actually arm the warhead.
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07-10-2008, 09:17 PM
Originally posted by Messervy:
<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content">I amused myself by twirling the little "propeller thingy" on the nose of the T3 with my big toe: .......And wondering how many "toe flips" it would take to actually arm the warhead.
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You would never find out. Because you will be dead when you get you get the answer! http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

07-10-2008, 09:24 PM
Well....arming a warhead isn't exactly the same thing as setting it off. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-wink.gif

07-10-2008, 09:26 PM
That was really great, KLC! Thanks a bunch!

09-11-2008, 08:54 AM
"There were cardboard tubes EVERYWHERE! They were stuffed into the food lockers. They were in the Head. They were taped (using several turns of friction tape) to the overhead piping. The Cook was using one to stir the soup. I even found two under my pillow.

But finally the job of getting them all tucked away was done: .........Which was a good thing because we had orders to sail at 09:00 the next morning."

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif Great as usual http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif