'Esteemed graduate.
Congratulations on your graduation from the United States Naval Academy. Your hard work, effort, dedication, and commitment have enabled you to rise above and achieve greatness.
It is with a great honor that under the authority of Admiral John T. K. Longstreet, that you are hereby granted the rank of captain.
Furthermore, you are also assigned the command of SSN-773, USS Cheyenne.
We understand that this may come as a surprise to you, since you have only graduated a mere week ago, but due to personal recommendations, you have been chosen for this command.
The Department of the Navy.'
——
It had been a week since Samuel graduated, and just as soon as he was done with the academy, they were shipping him off to a command.
Ever since he was a boy, listening to his grandfather tell stories of his days in the old diesel-electric boats while his father was away, he was infatuated with the idea of being a submarine captain.
And he had gotten it. Right there, on his desk lay a paper that said he did it. He accomplished his dreams.
So why did he feel empty?
The week after graduation he was a powder keg of excitement, constantly checking his mailbox for any letters or orders. And this morning they came.
But...where was that happiness he held for so long? He KNEW this was what he wanted, why else would he have gone through the academy?
He told himself it was just anxiety or nerves, his boat was all the way over in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Maybe he was just too excited to feel happy?
Seeing no other feasible reason, he stuck with that as an explanation, even though he knew it was probably wrong.
——
February 5th
Honolulu, Oahu Island
5:15 PM
Samuel now knew he was definitely wrong.
Ever since he left the east coast, he had been at best indifferent and at worst a nervous wreck. His flight touched down on Oahu island earlier that morning. He felt no need to socialize or party or drink, so he went straight to his hotel room.
He could always report to command tomorrow, his deadline was 'by the seventh' so he had plenty of time.
But, with no drive to drink and sorrow drown, he pulled the curtains tight on his windows, put a 'Do not disturb' sign on the door, flicked the lights off, and went to bed.
Surely he would feel better the next day.
YOU ARE READING
200 Feet From Death.
Historical FictionSamuel H. Jones was among many of his fellow graduates at the naval academy. He had joined for the soul purpose of becoming a captain of his favorite vessel, a nuclear attack submarine. After all, every man in his family since his grandfather had be...
