Sentinel
I
The cold rain beat down on him, stinging his exposed skin, making his already heavy leather jacket fill with water, straining his back and shoulders as he peered out into the ice chocked seas. A cigarette hung from his mouth, white smoke drifting aimlessly up from the grey tuft at the end, only to be stolen by the wind. His hand, wrapped in a leather glove, gripped the ice coated rail, the sea breaking against the metal hull of the ship, splashing onto the deck and up over his boots. There was not sun, but the sky was bright, for what little light escaped from its imprison behind the grey clouds shimmered off the ice and blue waters. He could barely hear the clang of the ropes against the hollow metal flag pole which flew the Union Jack. He could make out flutters from behind the wind, like the flag calling for aid against the tormenting wind and rain. Within his own mind he too called for help, attempting not to notice that his face had gone numb, and that the water had seeped into his boots. The large metal door leading back into the interior of the ship groaned and creaked as it was opened, held firm by another man in leather, so as not to let it swing against the frame. The man, with hands in pocket, wandered over, and stood next to him, placing a cigarette into his mouth, and attempting to light it. He could see the short flashes of light behind the man's gloved hand, only to be snuffed out by the wind.
"Bloody hell" said the man under his breath as he continued to struggle with the lighter.
"I joined the navy because I wanted to see the world, not to sit in a stomach churning metal coffin in arse of the Lord" the man scoffed, finally lighting the cigarette.
"What about you there Bob? Why'd you join her Majesty's Navy" the man said sarcastically.
Bob didn't answer, continuing to stare into the sea, as if measuring each wave.
The man waved his hand in front of Bob's face, snapping him out of his trance.
"Hello? Did ya hear me there Bob? If there be any sirens out there they'd be frozen now" that man laughed
"Sorry I…was lost in thought" replied Bob, who, just consumed with thought and dream, couldn't find the correct words to speak. "What did you want?"
"I asked, why did you join the navy? If it was to see the world I'd say jump overboard now for there aint much to damn well see mate" the man laughed, wrapping his arms around him and shivering.
"My grandfather fought at Trafalgar, my father at Jutland, I guess I saw it as my duty to uphold my family's legacy" said Bob, throwing the cigarette onto the deck and snuffing it out with his foot.
"When do you think the Hun will come our way" asked the man, now looking into the waves as Bob had.
"We'll go to them" said Bob
"What you mean?"
"The Germans would never come this far north for a simple raid, they would wait for convoys to pass by Norway if they wanted to strike at an arctic convoy, and then they might as well leave Scappa to intercept. The Germans would remain well south of us, perhaps only going to the Denmark Strait. That's where we would intercept them" said Bob, placing his hands into his coat pockets.
"I can see that family legacy has paid off. They should've made you admiral"
Bob scoffs as he looks down at his boots, hoping that my some miracle they would drain and his socks would become dry.
"Do you think it's true" asks the man, taking a long drag on his cigarette.
"About what?"
"The the Germans built a huge battleship, able to take on anything we throw at 'em. I even heard that the Hood would be torn apart"
"Don't believe everything you hear, besides, the Hood is only vulnerable to plunging fire" said Bob dismissively.
"Yeah. And your point being"
"Even if Jerry has something like that, the Hood could close the distance before they could get a shot off. Besides, I hear that the navy just finished a brand new ship called The Prince of Wales, and I hear its got four guns per turret!". Bob seems to be excited when speaking of the Hood, as all British seamen are. "Jerry's ship, oh what was it called"
"Bismarck I think" interjects the man
"Bismarck right. It's still locked up in the fjords of Norway, and the fleet at Scappa will keep here there" says Bob with much assurance.
"I just overheard a wire to the captain before coming out here. The Bismarck is loose. It escaped the fjords during heavy fog and is expected to strike at convoys in the Atlantic" says the man with a sense of sadness and fear.
"Well then, you may finally see why you joined the navy" said Bob, slapping the man on the shoulder before turning and heading towards the door.
"I just might" the man says, taking a long drag on his cigarette and assuming the post that Bob once held: hand outstretched on the railing, water filling his boots, and lost in thoughts and dreams at the sight of the waves.