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jdaggerBack around the 15th of November, 2008 I participated in the first ironclad battle of my career. As a green Lieutenant Commander in the Fleet of Wrath Exiles, I helped the fleet win a hard fought engagement with the Royal Antiquity Navy. I wrote this dialog back then, and never posted it because I felt it was a little presumptive and arrogant for the junior officer to throw a narrative against the commanders. In light of the times, and all that has happened of late, I felt it was time to finish the story
Commodore O'Toole's report
FWES Carolina
Blake's Sea, near Gregory
LCDR J Dagger, commanding
Captain's Personal Log
The rain continues to fall in leaden sheets, the ship groaning in protest as I push her towards the fleet. We are out of our patrol box, and I fear we will arrive too late for the engagement. This is not the beginning I had hoped for.
The old man gave me this command ahead of several of my more senior peers, and deep in my heart I almost wish he hadn't. I was one of the 'young turks' that joined up after the Middlesea Exodus, and I have had to prove myself constantly in the eyes of the 'old boys'. The 'Carolina' is one of the older ships in the fleet, and while some would not think this is a plum assignment, she is mine. I had relied too heavily on my junior officers, and I hadn't checked behind the snotty that had taken the night watch. We were too far east, and in the teeth of a squall. He had reduced speed for the storm, and so we were even further out when I realized the error and shifted course.
Mr Phalangis, the ship's engineer, appeared in the hatchway, his usual patina of grease and coal dust streaked by water droplets driven through the caulking by the wind.
"What's the word on the engines?" I asked. He looked at me, reflecting the grim mood etched on my face.
"We are taking on water, but the pumps are holding. I can give you full speed, but I have to recommend against it."
"Make it so, and let me know if there is a change in the hold." He nodded and disappeared back down the hatchway.
The quartermaster's mate at the wheel regarded me with a disdain reserved for fools and martinets. I tried to put it aside, but I knew the men were still wondering about the redheaded officer that they had been saddled with. Commander Manley had been a popular officer, and Lord knows it had been a trial to change old habits. They were a seasoned crew, and I had hoped I could maintain the discipline.
The aether-telegraph operator burst into the wheelhouse, with a message pad gripped in his hand. He handed me the pad, the message written all over his face. It was the recall order, as the Antiquity fleet had closed to engage. I read the words again, and turned to the chart table. We were late.
1800 hrs, Blake's Sea
We have outrun the storm. The last message from the Commodore said it all. "Dagger, where are you?" I reread it, and it hurt more the more I thought about it. I didn't have time to worry now. I had an engagement to prepare for. The watch sang out, smoke on the horizon. I left the bridge to Lt Palmer, and went aft to my cabin. I returned, carrting the old portmanteau that contained my personal weapons. The helmsman watched as I pulled on my gunbelt, checked the kukri in it's worn leather scabbard, drew the Colt from it's holster and checked the cylinder. I secured it in the holster, and pulled the double barrel coach gun from the bag. I hung it and the shell belt on the hat peg next to the chart desk. The last thing in the bag was a bottle of Tennessee whiskey. I took the bottle, and walked through the hatch to the gundeck.
The guncrews worked at their positions, readying the guns for the upcoming fight. They took notice of my presence, but continued to work. I walked back along the guns, touching each one in turn from aft back around to the #1 gun. The quartergunner looked at me with a questioning glance.
"Assemble the crews forward."
The gunners moved forward, forming a semicircle around me.
"We are sailing into what promises to be a stiff fight. You men are the fighting heart of this vessel, and I am depending on you to bring us victory. Mark you targets well, listen for your orders, strike true and strike hard."
"Fetch cups."
Each of the gun captains held a mug, and I poured a measure of the whiskey into each one, starting with the last gun and ending with gun 1. The mugs were passed back so each member of each crew had a sip.
"You men of gun 1 will strike first for the crew. You are the tip of the spear."
The crews returned to their guns, and I returned to the wheelhouse.
After Action Report
FWES Carolina
Elements of the Fleet of Wrath Exiles were engaged by a superior number of vessels from the Royal Antiquity Navy, consisting of two City Class ironclads and three smaller armored steam sloops. The battle was well underway when the Carolina entered the battle, and was immediately under a heavy fire from the opposing forces.on entry. The Carolina was able to draw fire away from the commander's vessel the Rose of Trelawney, and was instrumental in the sinking of the two remaining enemy ships at the end of the engagement.
The bosun was obviously annoyed at me. I had gone back below at the signal for cease fire to check on the crew, and had missed the first signal of Captain's Call on the Rose. The old man could wait a moment. I had to check on my boys.
Standing there on the fantail of the Rose, amid all of the drinks and handshakes, I stood hatless and numb. I ran back through everything that happened, making mental notes to myself as to what changes needed to be made when the Commodore walked over and offered his hand.
"You made the difference, Dagger. You helped turn the tide in our favor."
"thank you sir." I managed a smile, and cast a look back at the damaged ship riding in the lee of the Rose. My ship.
Commodore O'Toole's report
FWES Carolina
Blake's Sea, near Gregory
LCDR J Dagger, commanding
Captain's Personal Log
The rain continues to fall in leaden sheets, the ship groaning in protest as I push her towards the fleet. We are out of our patrol box, and I fear we will arrive too late for the engagement. This is not the beginning I had hoped for.
The old man gave me this command ahead of several of my more senior peers, and deep in my heart I almost wish he hadn't. I was one of the 'young turks' that joined up after the Middlesea Exodus, and I have had to prove myself constantly in the eyes of the 'old boys'. The 'Carolina' is one of the older ships in the fleet, and while some would not think this is a plum assignment, she is mine. I had relied too heavily on my junior officers, and I hadn't checked behind the snotty that had taken the night watch. We were too far east, and in the teeth of a squall. He had reduced speed for the storm, and so we were even further out when I realized the error and shifted course.
Mr Phalangis, the ship's engineer, appeared in the hatchway, his usual patina of grease and coal dust streaked by water droplets driven through the caulking by the wind.
"What's the word on the engines?" I asked. He looked at me, reflecting the grim mood etched on my face.
"We are taking on water, but the pumps are holding. I can give you full speed, but I have to recommend against it."
"Make it so, and let me know if there is a change in the hold." He nodded and disappeared back down the hatchway.
The quartermaster's mate at the wheel regarded me with a disdain reserved for fools and martinets. I tried to put it aside, but I knew the men were still wondering about the redheaded officer that they had been saddled with. Commander Manley had been a popular officer, and Lord knows it had been a trial to change old habits. They were a seasoned crew, and I had hoped I could maintain the discipline.
The aether-telegraph operator burst into the wheelhouse, with a message pad gripped in his hand. He handed me the pad, the message written all over his face. It was the recall order, as the Antiquity fleet had closed to engage. I read the words again, and turned to the chart table. We were late.
1800 hrs, Blake's Sea
We have outrun the storm. The last message from the Commodore said it all. "Dagger, where are you?" I reread it, and it hurt more the more I thought about it. I didn't have time to worry now. I had an engagement to prepare for. The watch sang out, smoke on the horizon. I left the bridge to Lt Palmer, and went aft to my cabin. I returned, carrting the old portmanteau that contained my personal weapons. The helmsman watched as I pulled on my gunbelt, checked the kukri in it's worn leather scabbard, drew the Colt from it's holster and checked the cylinder. I secured it in the holster, and pulled the double barrel coach gun from the bag. I hung it and the shell belt on the hat peg next to the chart desk. The last thing in the bag was a bottle of Tennessee whiskey. I took the bottle, and walked through the hatch to the gundeck.
The guncrews worked at their positions, readying the guns for the upcoming fight. They took notice of my presence, but continued to work. I walked back along the guns, touching each one in turn from aft back around to the #1 gun. The quartergunner looked at me with a questioning glance.
"Assemble the crews forward."
The gunners moved forward, forming a semicircle around me.
"We are sailing into what promises to be a stiff fight. You men are the fighting heart of this vessel, and I am depending on you to bring us victory. Mark you targets well, listen for your orders, strike true and strike hard."
"Fetch cups."
Each of the gun captains held a mug, and I poured a measure of the whiskey into each one, starting with the last gun and ending with gun 1. The mugs were passed back so each member of each crew had a sip.
"You men of gun 1 will strike first for the crew. You are the tip of the spear."
The crews returned to their guns, and I returned to the wheelhouse.
After Action Report
FWES Carolina
Elements of the Fleet of Wrath Exiles were engaged by a superior number of vessels from the Royal Antiquity Navy, consisting of two City Class ironclads and three smaller armored steam sloops. The battle was well underway when the Carolina entered the battle, and was immediately under a heavy fire from the opposing forces.on entry. The Carolina was able to draw fire away from the commander's vessel the Rose of Trelawney, and was instrumental in the sinking of the two remaining enemy ships at the end of the engagement.
The bosun was obviously annoyed at me. I had gone back below at the signal for cease fire to check on the crew, and had missed the first signal of Captain's Call on the Rose. The old man could wait a moment. I had to check on my boys.
Standing there on the fantail of the Rose, amid all of the drinks and handshakes, I stood hatless and numb. I ran back through everything that happened, making mental notes to myself as to what changes needed to be made when the Commodore walked over and offered his hand.
"You made the difference, Dagger. You helped turn the tide in our favor."
"thank you sir." I managed a smile, and cast a look back at the damaged ship riding in the lee of the Rose. My ship.
