George Kramer
Nevada walked down the path to the front door. She was in her dress uniform. Her awards she received during the Abyssal War and the Second World War were displayed on her left breast. The person standing by the open door saw Nevada's nametag and allowed her admittance, and the Shipgirl removed her hat before entering.
Nevada walked into the heavy atmosphere of a memorial service. It was not packed like what you see in movies, but it was not empty either. Nevada weaved through the guests catching the occasional low hum of whispers.
She reached the living room to find the family of the house sitting with Iowa, in her dress blues, and a volunteer of the Battleship IOWA Museum. They talked in quiet voices, and one of the family members handed something to Iowa.
Iowa perked up and did a double take before looking at Nevada. Iowa exchanged a few more words, then slowly got up and approached Nevada.
"I'm sorry, Nevada!" Iowa said in a hushed voice. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose was dripping. She was lucky she had an aversion to face makeup.
Nevada looked up at the taller Shipgirl and pulled out a small tissue packet. Iowa nodded her thanks, quietly blew her nose, then wiped her newly formed tears with a fresh tissue.
"Sorry for what?" Nevada asked, her voice conforming to the ambience of the house.
"I thought George Kramer was one of your old crew," Iowa admitted. "He was actually Army."
"You thought I would be mad at you?" Nevada gave Iowa a slight head tilt and a confused raised eyebrow.
"That was my thought process, yes."
"Well, you said he was Army. A World War II vet?" Nevada asked.
Iowa nodded.
"Why don't you tell me about him?"
"Before enlisting, George was a construction worker – a riveter," Iowa began. "He built ships. He helped built me! Look!"
Iowa showed Nevada a rusting and corroding rivet.
"It's one of my old rivets! After completing me he enlisted into the Army and fought in Europe, including the Battle of the Bulge. Maybe even D-Day."
"Maybe." Thinking back to her past life, Nevada shuddered. "But why do you think I would be angry? This means a lot to you. Both George and me."
"I thought he was one of your old crew that helped built me," Iowa said. "I'm sorry! I forgot his name!"
"It's okay." Nevada allowed Iowa to quietly cry onto her shoulder. Nevada stretched her body, and even raised her heels off of the ground, to accommodate the tall woman. She held Iowa's head in an embrace. "Let's just take one step at a time."
A/N: Just like Iowa, I feel horrible for not remembering Nevada's crewmember, even though I met him once.