The Life of The New USN Fleet Admiral

Arrival

3/26/1965

01:00

The clouds hung low over the island, cloaking it in a mystic fog as the plane made its final approach. The rumble of the engines began to whine down as the pilot began the final descent, pitching the nose down towards the landing strip where the ground crew was making their way to the edges of the tarmac. After what felt like an hours, the planes wheels met the pavement with a rubber burning squeal, the roar of the engines dying down to a dull growl as the DC-3 taxied to the end of the runway, coming to a stop beside the last hangar. The ground men hurried to chock the wheels and begin refueling the airplane as the props stuttered to a halt, leaving only the chatter of workmen and the sounds tools and equipment in use as the rear hatch swung open, to reveal the newcomers. I paused for a second to take in the view, impressed by the efficiency and speed of the men as the prepared the plane for its return flight to California. Seconds passed before I finally stepped down from the doorway, the click of my polished dress shoes meeting the pavement drowning amongst the noise of the airfield. I was followed by my son, who's attention was immediately captured by the multitude of men who had dropped their tools to stand at attention and salute their new commending officer, Admiral J. Herrmann. I held a straight face as I returned their salute, my crisp white uniform practically glowing in the afternoon sun. 

"As you were gentlemen"

I spoke with authority as I dismissed them back to their tasks at hand.

"I expect this plane to be back in California by noon tomorrow"

"Yes Sir!"

And with that they rushed back to their jobs as I ushered my son towards the jeep that waited to take us to HQ, where I would address the members of my new fleet.