So, Blackadder was on a ship. A convey of ships to be precise. Sailing on the cold north sea, the choppy waves causing the ship to go up, down, up, down, up, down and maybe sideways as well. The coastline was disappearing in a depressingly swift manner. The Gulls did cry majestically. Then one crapped right on Blackadder's navel cap. As it happened, Blackadder hated Gulls and swore loudly at them. At his side, but a bit lower down was Private Baldrick whom Blackadder had the misfortune to be the commanding officer of. However Baldrick was looking strange. Or at least, stranger than the ugly little runt normally did. Blackadder had a go at conversation. 'So, Baldrick, how do you feel about our new assignment?'

Baldrick's face turned green. 'I feel sick, sir!' said he and promplty threw up over the railings in the the sea.

'Ah, sea-sickness, it could happen to anyone, I suppose,' said Blackadder, but Baldrick wasn't paying much attention, concentrating on throwing up.

When he stood up his face was covered with his own vomet as he had been sick right into the howling gale. 'You know, that's almost an improvement, Baldrick, but I think that for once in my life I am going to follow you,' and likewise was sick into the choppy grey waters. But in Blackadder's case he was careful to be sick with the wind. However, it was a rough passage of sea and just about everyone on the King Richard was sick. Due to the chopping of the waves, the wind, the unpleasant smell of engine oil over the decks and due to the fact that it was early in the voyage and even experience mariners had not got their sea-legs on yet. Everyone save... Lieutenant George. Lieutenant George Hannover was apparently immune to sea-sickness and equally oblivious to the issues this was causing everyone else.

He was munching on a bright yellow banana close to Blackadder, blissfully ignorant of any danger he was in with his Captain. He gave the Captain a friendly pat on the shoulder, 'Oh, sir, what joy, out in the open air, the blue sea, the wind, the seabirds, what a nice change from those stuffy old trenches, eh skip? Fancy a banana?' he asked in genuine kind naivety. Blackadder face turned greener at the sight on the fruit and he was sick a bit more. Well, if looks could kill, the one which Blackadder sent to George would have had the Lieutenant as dead as if he had been shot in the chest by a German machine-gun in the trenches.

'George, it is not a blue sea, it is a sort of dark-greeny grey and the wind is a gale!'

'If you say so, skip, if you say so,' replied George cheerfully.

'Plus, it might have escaped your normal air of mindless jollity, but I am, like the rest of the crew a little bit unwell at the moment.'

'You do look a bit funny, I must say now that you mention it sir, didn't notice this before,'

'Yes, well, quite why the good lord has decided to spare you from this misery must be one of the greater celestial mysteries,'

'Indeed, I always enjoy a sea voyage from the start,' grinned George.

Blackadder resisted the urge to punch George in the face. But at least now the sea-sickness was passing. Maybe the day was improving. Or maybe not. Two rather unkempt ratings appeared in front of him. They had suspicious grins on them. But Blackadder decided to be nice. 'And who are you?' asked he.

The two started chuckling. One was blond and short, the other tall and dark and lanky. 'We are the 3 sillies,' said one. 'We are the comic relief aboard this ship. The crew love all of the hilarious pranks we like to play on the rest of them. All in good taste of course.'

Blackadder was now fed up with been nice. 'So why are there only two of you, then?'

'The third one is behind you,' one laughed and to Blackadder's dismay, but much to the amusement of everyone else on board, even the ship's Captain, pulled Blackadder's trousers down, revealing a nice pair of spotted pants. And a pair of rather lanky, skinny hairy legs. Well, this was seemingly a welcoming prank to a new officer. It was a bit disrespectful, but seen as everyone else enjoying the gag, there was not much he could do against the will of the ship. He decided to give each of them a writhing stare, though this did not seem to have the desired effect as one of the gang blew a horn and the others started a little dance. So Blackadder decided to give them a quick word.

'All right, you got me that time. But let me tell you just one thing. If you play one more of your hillarious pranks upon me, I will revive that fine old naval practice of kee-hauling on all 3 of you. Now, dismissed!'

Blackadder then remembered to pull his trousers up. George came to him laughing, 'I say, sir, have they always been like that?'

'Have what?'

'Those legs of yours. You really should put some meat on them!'

Then the Captain of the ship came to speak to him, 'Have they always been like that?'

'What?'

'Those legs of yours, didn't realize that you landlubbers were so sknny!'

'Yes, yes, yes,' said Blackadder who was getting tired of the leggy discussion. He asked the officer, 'Now you came to me for a reason, come on out with it!'

'Oh, yes, a strategy meeting in the mess. It's time to full you in on our journey tactics.'

Blackadder was relieved to hear that they had some kind of journey tactics. But not so much when he heard of them. The Captain, it turned out was in the Melchitt school of strategy. In fact, they went to the same training school even. He was such a total incompetent that Blackadder became worried that he might have to take charge of the ship himself to spare lives. In Blackadder's humble opinion the Captain was not fit to shovel the ship's urine from one part of the latrine to the other. The discussion was had over dinner, but the dinner wasn't much good. Fish and what looked like some kind of seaweed. Blackadder was not a fan of fish at the best of times, and this was not his idea of haute cuisine. And as for the strategy! The Captain of this ship seemed as bonkers as his other commanding officer. 'What we need to do is to patrol the Norwegian border. German ships have been known to be there, and we need to be ready for them. The destroyers in particular!'

'And what do we do when we meet a destroyer?'

The Captain took out a large cigarette. He twiddled it, light it then took puffs of smoke out of it. He sighed contentedly. 'well, to be totally honest, I don't pay much attention to that type of thing. Normal tactics is to go up close and I believe let loose with all the guns that we have.' Blackadder did notice the assistant to the Naval Captain, one first officer Dave giving a little smile at him. This man seemed at least to be competent and Blackadder was relieved that at least someone else on this vessel was.

Blackadder tried once more, 'But what about those U-boats, what do we do about them?'

'U-boats, u-boats, don't be so defeatist, you do u-boats,' replied the Captain.

'Absolutely flaming mad, they all are,' stormed Blackadder as he left the smoke-filled mess.

'How did it go, how was dinner,' asked George, ever jolly.

'Well, I suppose that congratulations are in order,' said Blackadder, 'I think that they have actually managed to make something more disgusting than rat!' Rat been the stable fair of the trenches.

'Supposing next time I liven the dish up with a little mayonnaise sauce?' suggested Baldrick.

'I think not,' vetoed Blackadder firmly. Blackadder had once had some sauce from Baldrick called creme a la menione. On further investigation it turned out to be cat vomit. What Baldrick could do with Mayonnaise on fish troubled Blackadder's deepest imagination. But Blackadder bade his men goodnight and turned in. It was going to be a long day tomorrow and in a cabin, which Blackadder insisted upon been his own and Blackadder entered into a series of alternate sexual deviant or violent war flashback dreams. The next day dawned fine and sunny. For five minutes. Then, this been march in the north sea it became cloudy, wet and windy. Windy? More of a storm, actually. Blackadder awoke to a loud alarm sounding across the Richard. Firstly, he removed a suspicious looking banana which was right in his line of walking. He took a field-glass from the vaguely intelligent Lieutenant. There to his horror he saw a German ship of destroyer class.