HMCS Oakville

Sea salt splashed in his eyes making hot tears trail down his cheeks. No one would notice, water was surging over the deck at such a rate that no living creature was dry. Those who were no longer living had long since been tossed overboard, their troubled souls fueling the chaotic waves. He watched as the ships came down one by one in a mass of fire. The HMCS Oakville barely stayed above the waves.

He walks slowly up the incline, cane in one hand, the arm of his grandson in the other. It is fall, and the leaves have all shed their green skins in favour of red and gold. The wind ruffles through the leaves, making them sway like the arms of a blazing fire. His grandson faces ahead, eyes always looking forward at opportunities beyond the horizon, but he looks back, watching as the fiery leaves dance in the wind.

"5, 4, 3, 2, Fire!" The depth charges dropped, attacking the unseen enemy beneath the waves. The ship shook but held steady, as did the men. The American Seaplane attacked from above, the hum of its engine barely heard over the roaring of the sea. He held his breath, waiting to see if the U-boat would surface. Commander King barked orders in preparation. He moved with the rest of the cadets, preparing for the battle that was destined to come.

The Lake is calm today. The slight waves give it the appearance of a wrinkled sheet. He imagines his wife attempting to take an iron to the water and laughs under his breath. She was a nurse in the war, and she never lost the habit of making everything look perfect. She always says that a well-made bed is something even the most damaged of people can appreciate. He still remembers being wheeled next to a pristine bed of perfectly fitted white sheets, with the most beautiful nurse he had ever seen standing beside it. She had smiled at him, and now he wakes up to that smile every morning.

When U-94 surfaced it felt like it brought half of the ocean's waves out with it. A great giant canister of grey metal rising out of the inky black water. The men around him cheered, but his commanding officers face was still set in an expression of steely determination. This fight was far from over. They bombarded the mighty submarine that had brought down so many ally ships over the years. Only one had been able to avoid sinking, and none had escaped unscathed. The captain called out orders and the navigational team moved with the precision of a swarm of bees. The boat moved steadily forward in preparation to ram into the mighty war machine before them.

It never fails to amaze him how Oakville somehow manages to keep its natural beauty despite the ever-growing city right next door. The outlook is just ahead, the sun peaking over the horizon. His grandson looks bored and ready to arrive, but he wants to enjoy the walk just a little bit longer. The birds sing a somber hymn above in the sky, saying goodbye to the land before they migrate south for winter. They mourn for what they will have to leave behind.

The ship hit the submarine with a mighty clang. The impact vibrated throughout the entire vessel. He held onto the rails for dear life, knowing if he fell overboard he would not find himself on that deck again. They managed to push U-94 a fair distance, but the damage done to the boat was not enough to put it out of submission. They would need another hit. The captain prepared to strike again. The collision was just as harsh as before, but finally it was clear U-94 was going nowhere.

His son is waiting for him at the top of the hill. He stands fully grown with a kind smile and crinkled eyes. His young wife stands beside him, eyes full of love. His grandson had been named after himself, something he hopes the boy will someday find pride in, but his son was named after his best friend. The man who stood next to him as they signed their names to join the Navy. He sees the spirit of the man in his son. The same kind heart and wise mind. He hopes his companion looks down on him fondly, eyes twinkling like the stars he loved so much.

He could see James across the deck. When their eyes met, he smiled the same grin he had when they discovered they had been assigned to the same ship. His closest friend raised his eyes to the stars before returning to meet his gaze. He understood the message. The stars were beautiful that night. Commander King begins selecting men to join him in boarding the Nazi vessel. James was called third, he was called ninth. Commander King, Sub Lieutenant Lawrence, and Petty Officer Powell along with eleven cadets surged forward and tread onto U-94. He and James boarded side by side. Two Nazi's emerged from the bridge, eyes wild and movements frantic. Commander King ordered them to stand down, but instead they surged forward. Two bodies slid off the side of the submarine.

He wonders if the trees ever mourn the loss of their leaves. Their green children they grew from a bud being torn away for a lonely winter. Maybe, they gladly let the leaves go, hoping the wind will carry them where they can spread their seeds and grow. Soon, the red canopy above him will be clear and the sunlight will stream through reflecting on the white snow. The path he walks now will become icy and the children will use it to play on their sleds. But for now, the path remains bare, and the trees keep their leaves. His grandson begins to pull his arm lightly, but his eyes remain on a single leaf as it falls from a tree and twirls to the ground.

The German men soon surrendered when they realised their U- boat was done for. Everyone was anxious to depart the sinking U-94, but the Commander wanted to investigate for anything of value. There was a call for volunteers to go into the vessel. As soon as he saw James's hand begin to move, his own was in the air. They moved through the ship in twos, he and James making their way to the small med bay to salvage any useful supplies. They had only just gathered the first aid kits when they heard the call. Abandon ship. He sprinted faster than ever before, James at his heels. He barely remembers climbing the ladder, but soon they were top side. Canadian soldiers and Nazi's alike jumped into the sea and swam towards the HMCS Oakville. He looked at James whose eyes were on the sky. He saw his companion's lips mutter a prayer before they jumped. The entire time James's eyes remained on the stars. It was black and silent beneath the water; the waves throwing him forwards and backwards. When he finally reached air, his breaths were deep and greedy. James did not resurface.

There, in all its glory, sits the HMCS Oakville Memorial. His grandson guides him to a bench before running off to play with a boy he recognizes from school. The monument stands tall, glistening in the sun. Behind it lies Lake Ontario, whose waters look so different from the harsh ocean on the night that brought the HMCS its fame. That day went down in history as the day a Canadian naval ship sunk the great U-94 with the help of an American fighter plane. No one remembers his brave best friend who volunteered to enter the sinking vessel. No one knows of James, the soldier whose eyes are forever full of stars. He sits before the monument, memories mimicking the storm of the battle. The sun reaches out with its light one more time before it dips below his line of sight. A weary soldier tilts his head back and waits to see the stars.