Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: I do not own JAG or its characters. This is purely for
entertainment.
Classification: Drama, action, angst PG-13
Category: Harm and Mac angst/romance
Summary: Harm and the crew of a Navy frigate fight to survive a night
of peril on the cold northern Atlantic. I wrote this in October of
2000. But it could work for season 7.
PART 2
A strong hand suddenly reaches out and grabs one of my arms, "Hold on Commander, I'll pull you back on deck!!" Murf slowly drags me back over the rail.
"That was close." I gasp and try to slow my breathing. "What the hell happened?"
..........
Crew members were already busy trying to contain the fire and pull the injured to safety. The Master Chief conferred with Damage Control to discover that the explosion had injured or killed all the occupants in the ward room, communications room and bridge. In other words all the officers were either dead or injured, except me.
"Sir, you are the only officer" Chief Murphy yells over the blaze of the fire "You are in command."
I scan the area that is in total chaos. I am in command of a burning frigate that is sinking in the freezing North Atlantic...I rub my hand back through my hair... Suck it up sailor, no time for self doubt, people are dying here.
"Chief we have to get the ship turned around so the flames on the bow will blow out to sea instead of towards the bridge. We have to get to the COM." I yell over the roar of the flames.
"We can bypass the bridge by going to the aft steering."
"Make it so, Chief"
"Aye Aye Sir"
"Where is Damage Control Chief Knight? I need a report of the damage" A seaman recruit quickly leaves to locate Knight.
Shortly thereafter, Chief Knight appears, "Commander we have water in the Bosom's hole and lower storage. These compartments are sealed off, but we're still taking on water. Our biggest problem is the fire."
The frigate begins to list to port side as she slowly comes about sending the fire away from the bridge and the Com.
Chief Knight smiles slightly, "Chief, where is the safest most easily accessible place to move the injured?" Thoughts race through my head.
"Mess hall behind the galley, sir. It opens up to the flight deck."
"So when the rescue helos arrive, we can evacuate quickly." I voice the Chief's thoughts.
"Yes, Sir."
"Get moving, find a roster, we need to account for all the crew."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
Master Chief Murphy returns to my side and hands me a radio. "We just got into the communications room. The hand held radios are operational. Short range communication can be repaired, but long range is fried."
"Make sure all the Chiefs have a radio. What about the Com Sat?"
"The communication satellite uplink is in one of the compartments damaged by the explosions in the magazine."
"Damn, as soon as short range is up begin an all channel distress signal."
"Yes, Sir."
"I'm going to check out the damage."
As I survey the frigate, I can't believe my eyes. The ship looks like it has been torpedoed. Sailors are assisting their injured bleeding comrades towards the mess. Alarms are sounding amidst the eerie glow of the emergency lighting.
"Commander Rabb," my radio crackles. "We have short range radio in operation and are sending all channel distress."
"Roger out." Finally something positive is happening...
The Chief corpsman interrupts "Sir, we have 39 in our temporary sick bay, many have serious burns."
"What are their chances if we have to board the life rafts?"
"Most would not survive with their injuries. It's just too cold." He speaks quietly.
I nod and begin to navigate the lower decks to hear the moans of the frigate as she strains from the abuse. The lower decks are almost deserted. The ship suddenly lists port side. "Commander Rabb." The radio crackles again.
"Chief Knight, damage control, she's taking on water in the forward port stores and berthing areas. The pumps aren't able to keep up."
"Have you sealed off those compartments?"
"Roger that, Sir"
I notice the ship shutter and list even more.
"Chief we need to flood the starboard compartments to balance, or we're going to roll."
"Sir, we have a situation in starboard operational berthing."
"Say, again?"
"Sir, we have a man trapped in starboard operational berthing."
"Roger, I'm going there now."
.......
Stepping over the knee knockers and descending down into the berthing areas, I hear water and clanging sounds as well as men's frantic voices. Murf is yelling orders as welders work intently on a tangle of steel.
A young sailor who couldn't be over 20 years old is laying on the deck trapped under the twisted steel. Water is leaking into the compartment at an alarming rate. A companion cradles the young sailor's head to keep the water from overtaking him. This is the compartment which must be completely flooded soon, or the ship will roll and sink.
"How much longer?" I shout.
Murf leads me away, "Sir it will take at least another hour to free him." His eyes sadly communicate the inevitable.
"There's nothing else we can do?" I look back at the trapped sailor.
Murf shakes his head. "What's his name." I ask.
"Seaman Bobby Cummings."
I suck in a deep breath and walk over and bend down, my chest feels tight as does my throat. "Bobby." His companion moves away as I take his place holding his head above the water.
"Commander, looks like I got myself in quite a fix." He gasps.
"Bobby, it looks like the water is coming in faster than we can stop it." I speak gently.
He looks in realization, "Sir." He swallows hard " You're not going to let me drown." Fear fills his eyes.
"Bobby, the water is threatening to roll the ship, to prevent this, we must flood starboard berthing."
"You need to flood this compartment..?"
I nod. This is just a kid.
Tears roll down his face and his lips tremble, "I wasn't going to make it anyway. The water's rising in here too fast ...if you go ahead and...it'll save my buddies, won't it Sir?"
"Yes." I reply sadly as water begins to lap against his chin. He coughs as he sucks in the water.
I lift his head up as high as I can, "Commander...tell my mom...I love her... tell her she raised me right." Tears are streaming down his face.
I nod and stroke his forehead as water continues to rise.
"I'm scared, Sir." he coughs.
"I'll stay as long as I can." I have never felt so helpless in all of my life.
"Sir, do you believe in God?"
I nod yes.
"I believe in heaven, my Dad's there." He struggles to talk.
Mine too.
The welders and rescue team slowly exit the area, most with tears or stoic expressions trying to mask their pain.
Bobby again coughs and begins quoting a Bible scripture, "And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into your kingdom.... and Jesus said unto him,.. Verily I say unto thee...today shalt thou be with me ...in paradise."
The water now covers his face as he looks at me. He doesn't struggle but relaxes in my hands...I feel his life leave him.
"Commander, Commander, we need to seal this compartment." I feel a hand on my shoulder. I rise and walk mechanically out of the compartment which is immediately sealed off.
Bobby's buddy who had held his head, ran to the closed hatch and looks frantically at me, "You're not going to let him die... your murdering him." He shouts and tries to open the hatch.
I turn towards him and pull him away from the hatch.
I feel anger and frustration with myself and with this situation rising as I grab the sailor's shirt. "Stop it...you have people depending on you to help keep this ship floating until help comes. Losing it will not bring Bobby back! Do you understand!" I yell as I hold him against the hatch.
I feel him relax, and I let go and walk away needing to get air.
I reach the deck and find a deserted area and lean against the mast trying to slow my breathing down.
"Commander" a voice edges towards me.
"Chief Murphy...who was that sailor I just..." I stop unable to deal with my surging emotions.
"Seaman Colletti, he'll be ok."
Silence and cold wet air engulf us as I stare into the black sky.
The Chief begins to speak, "My parents owned a fishing business out of Boston, I believe I was conceived on the Atlantic and born on a fishing cutter. The sea has always been my life. She can be cruel, Sir." He seems to ramble.
"And the sea will take your life..." I mutter as I think about our predicament.
"No Sir, I plan to die in my sleep as a very very old man." He chuckles.
I find myself smiling.
"Commander."
"Yea, Chief"
"Call me Murf"
"OK Murf"
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