This is an idea that's been buzzing around my head for awhile now, hopefully this has exorcised it.
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Adam stumbled through the smoke filled halls of the sinking ship, coughing from the soot that each breath drew in. His right hand reached out and propped him up on the bulkhead as he made his way toward the nearest ladder. He had been heading back from the head to his post in engineering when the ship lurched and threw him to his feet, a monstrosouly large explosion evident.
Still coughing, he slipped and fell, the rising heat making his grip nonexistant as his body desperately tried to maintain equilibrium. Struggling to push himself backup, he spotetd two pairs of white pants rush past him. "Help me!" he cried before dissolving into a hacking cough.
"Come on Frank, let's get him and get out of here," came one man's voice, muffled through the smoke and the distant roar of fire. Four arms pulled him to his feet and began helping him to escape, half-dragging him up the ladder.
"You're going to have to work harder mate, else we'll all die," grunted one of the two helpers, Frank? Adam didn't think it was the same man who had spoken to him before, but that explosion must have rattled something in his head. The distant cries of "Abandon Ship!" did seem to mean that the increasing tilt of the ladders and corridors was due to the ship listing rather than an addling of his mind however.
"What happened?" he wheezed. "I was just heading back from the head and then I'm flying through the air."
Frank answered while he and his companion swung open one more hatch. "Don't know myself, but I bet the Spaniards put out a torpedo and blew it up under us."
That statement made Adam pause briefly at the bottom of the latter. "The Spaniards? But I thought we were at peace still," he said while clambering up.
"Yeah, were," replied Frank as he opened a final hatch and sea air blew in, finally brining Adam to full alertness as the salty breeze stung him. Rushing to the rail, he saw a destroyer a few hundred yards off, coming in to pick up survivors, many of whom could be seen in the lifeboats, or holding on to various bits of debris. Thanking the Lord that his father had taught him how to swim, he jumped from the railing, which was coming perilously close to the water, followed close behind by his two companions.
Pushing out to the destroyer, he sighed as he thought of the ship he was leaving. The maine, the Majestic Maine as she was popularly known, had been his home for two years, since just before she was commissioned in fact. And now she would be no longer, a fact that tugged at his soul.
A cargo net and some strong hands helped him up into the destroyer and he thanked a nameless sailor as a blanket was wrapped around him, taking away some of the chill. But the greatest chill could not be taken away by a blanket. As he watched,k the maine began to accelerate her rollover, capsizing in the Cuban waters. But the ensign remained proud to the last, the Striped Jack erect as it dipped into the water. Just a few minutes later, though they felt like an eternity, the pride of America, the first of many battleships built in American yards, HMNAS Maine finally slipped beneath the waves.
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Adam stumbled through the smoke filled halls of the sinking ship, coughing from the soot that each breath drew in. His right hand reached out and propped him up on the bulkhead as he made his way toward the nearest ladder. He had been heading back from the head to his post in engineering when the ship lurched and threw him to his feet, a monstrosouly large explosion evident.
Still coughing, he slipped and fell, the rising heat making his grip nonexistant as his body desperately tried to maintain equilibrium. Struggling to push himself backup, he spotetd two pairs of white pants rush past him. "Help me!" he cried before dissolving into a hacking cough.
"Come on Frank, let's get him and get out of here," came one man's voice, muffled through the smoke and the distant roar of fire. Four arms pulled him to his feet and began helping him to escape, half-dragging him up the ladder.
"You're going to have to work harder mate, else we'll all die," grunted one of the two helpers, Frank? Adam didn't think it was the same man who had spoken to him before, but that explosion must have rattled something in his head. The distant cries of "Abandon Ship!" did seem to mean that the increasing tilt of the ladders and corridors was due to the ship listing rather than an addling of his mind however.
"What happened?" he wheezed. "I was just heading back from the head and then I'm flying through the air."
Frank answered while he and his companion swung open one more hatch. "Don't know myself, but I bet the Spaniards put out a torpedo and blew it up under us."
That statement made Adam pause briefly at the bottom of the latter. "The Spaniards? But I thought we were at peace still," he said while clambering up.
"Yeah, were," replied Frank as he opened a final hatch and sea air blew in, finally brining Adam to full alertness as the salty breeze stung him. Rushing to the rail, he saw a destroyer a few hundred yards off, coming in to pick up survivors, many of whom could be seen in the lifeboats, or holding on to various bits of debris. Thanking the Lord that his father had taught him how to swim, he jumped from the railing, which was coming perilously close to the water, followed close behind by his two companions.
Pushing out to the destroyer, he sighed as he thought of the ship he was leaving. The maine, the Majestic Maine as she was popularly known, had been his home for two years, since just before she was commissioned in fact. And now she would be no longer, a fact that tugged at his soul.
A cargo net and some strong hands helped him up into the destroyer and he thanked a nameless sailor as a blanket was wrapped around him, taking away some of the chill. But the greatest chill could not be taken away by a blanket. As he watched,k the maine began to accelerate her rollover, capsizing in the Cuban waters. But the ensign remained proud to the last, the Striped Jack erect as it dipped into the water. Just a few minutes later, though they felt like an eternity, the pride of America, the first of many battleships built in American yards, HMNAS Maine finally slipped beneath the waves.
