TRWD36B

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
36B

We’d finished our hot chocolate some time before and were now watching both the views from the view ports and the BBC on the Observation Nose monitor….
“…There she is,” a BBC reporter was as Seaview neared the dock of Inverness. “And in the conning tower, we see the conquering hero with some of his officers. The mean are wearing windbreakers and heavy sweaters as the temperature has risen. It’s amazing that such a giant submarine can glide so easily into the dock.”
Easily? It takes a great deal of skill and acumen to do so.
“… The deck crew has her all tied up, bumpers protecting her hull from further damage. She’ll definitely need dry dock once she gets home to repair all those dents and scrapes.
“…Her gangplank is being laid out and secured. With a last look the captain and his officers have disappeared below, hopefully to reappear for the welcome the men of the Seaview so richly deserves. The mayor of Inverness, in full mayoral badges of office, awaits….”
By now the boys had returned to the warmth of the Control Room.
“Harry?” Lee asked “we seem to have an official welcoming committee. How would everyone like to do a little PR? You too, Chipee.”
“Ah, shit, Lee!” Chip answered, horrified.
“Harry will be busy with scientific mumbo jumbo. Joe will keep me from doing anything embarrassing, like picking my nose or scratching my privates, and I need you to charm all the girls and doting grannies to keep them away from ruffling what’s left of my hair.”
“O’Brien,” Chip said, “better hold off releasing the men for shore leave until after the amenities so they won’t get swamped by the crowd.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Mom,” Lee said, “why not wear that nice coat you bought here.”
“You really are into PR, bro,” Joe laughed.
“It’s a good idea,” Emmie said. “Come along, Harry. I have the perfect ensemble for us to wear.”
“Us?”
She grinned.
“No, absolutely not!”
“You’ll have that special shirt this time. No worry about stray breezes.”
Well, if I was going to be pressured into a little PR, so was Lee.
“Only if Lee wears a kilt, too.”
“Me?” Lee asked, aghast.
“You can wear a hospital gown under your shirt and kilt,” Joe said. “No one will know, and you’ll he protected from those damn curious breezes.”
“And wool itch,” I added.
“You can’t think I’ll wear the thing ‘au natural’?” Lee asked, horrified.
“What better PR is there than wearing the native attire as a True Scot?” I said. “At least we won’t be lying if asked.”
“Me and my big mouth.”
Mrs. C. hurried to her cabin to get her new coat, Emmie and I to ours to get ‘properly’ attired. I could just imagine Will’s surprise when Lee stopped by Sick Bay for a hospital gown. If he did. I wasn’t really sure if he’d go through with wearing a kilt.
It wasn’t long before we grouped in the Control Rom. I swear my face was red with embarrassment, everyone knowing about my lack of underwear. Emmie had hauled out a cable knit pullover to keep me warm.
She, of course, looked absolutely radiant in one of her little pink numbers, dress, shoes, handbag, but no hat as she hardly ever wore them.
Mrs. C.’s coat was black with a red tartan trim around the neck and bottom. Jiggs wore dress blues, as Chip and Joe did.
“The skipper’s going to be a little delayed,” Will said as he entered the Control Room, grinning at us. He said for you to go ahead. Take care of the preliminaries. He’ll join you on deck shortly.”

Actually, for the ‘star’ to appear last would only heighten the crowd’s anticipation. So we headed topside.
While we all received applause, Chip’s appearance made the girls in the crowds go crazy with accolades of ‘Chipee! Chipee!”
“Welcome back to Inverness,” the mayor told us after we walked down the gangplank to join him on the dock.
“The captain will be down shortly,” Jiggs explained.
And shortly it was. Only it was Joe who appeared first to join us.
Then Lee, Winston on a leash with him, appeared at the hatch. The crowd went wild. Lee smiled sheepishly. He was wearing his own white cable knit pullover, and his red, white, and blue kilt. The red eyepatch, cleaned and dry augmented his ensemble as did the little red beret on his head, presumable to help protect the new scalp patches from any wind.
Winston sported his red collar and leash.
Bagpipes began to play ‘See the Conquering Hero’, not that anyone showed any sign of recognizing the tune. But I did, knowing how appropriate it was.
While technically incorrect, being out of uniform, Lee saluted the colors anyway as he and Winston strode down the gangplank.

When Lee reached the dock, you could hear a pin drop.
“Captain,” the mayor said, “welcome back to Inverness. We have received a message from the prime minister to relay to you. ‘With overwhelming assent from parliament, you are hereby granted honorary citizenship of the United Kingdom in recognition of your valor during recent events’.”
Applause, applause, applause while Lee bent his head slightly, a sure sign of his embarrassment.
“And,” the mayor added, which quieted the crowd, “on behalf of the citizenry of Inverness, you are forever more an honorary resident of our community.”
More enthusiasm from the crowd, if possible.
“I’m honored,” Lee said, “with your permission Mr. Mayor, I’d like to meet some of my new neighbors…Mom? Harry?”
And so, drafted by Lee, we began a ‘walkabout’, greeting the hundreds of folks behind the barricades. Lee introduced his mother, Emmie, Edith, Chip, Jiggs, Joe, Winston, and me as we made our ‘walkabout’ with the mayor. Lee shook hands with just about everyone who reached out to touch him, even those who touched his face in reverence and ‘familial’ soppiness as we traveled along the lines of barricades that had been laid out in a square on the dock.
I couldn’t help noticing how good Lee was at this. Always having something appropriate to say to the men, women, and children, even to their pets. Sometimes he was actually kissed on his cheeks and forehead as his lips were probably considered too sacrosanct. I was sure Will was already hyperventilating watching the deck cam from the Observation Nose or in his office.
Lee was especially good with the handicapped, bending down or getting on his knees to speak with those in wheelchairs or to those having been brought and seated by caregivers. Of course, sometimes he needed a little help getting back up, but usually Joe took care of that. I only had to help once when Joe was distracted.
I was not bombarded with questions of any scientific mumbo jumbo about the creatures that Lee had thought I’d be. I was, however, also bombarded with statements rather than questions about how proud I must be Lee. I could only answer in with enthusiastic agreement.
Chip was asked about his marital status or if he was ‘already spoken for ’ by the cooing girls and their mothers as interested in his availability as their interest in Lee’s.
The rest of our party simply received ‘how do you do’s, and the social niceties.
Circling the crowd was taking time, and I could tell Lee was getting weary. We had barely made the full circle and were about to get into the mayor’s limo to go to a champagne buffet in the city hall, when Kowalski hurried down the gangplank and waylaid us.
“Excuse me, Skipper. Washington’s calling. The president. Sorry, sir.”
‘Oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.
“Duty calls,” Lee told the mayor. “Please start without me. I’ll try to catch up with you, later.”
In minutes he, Ski, and Winston were striding up the gangplank, both Lee and Ski saluting the colors. Lee turned when he reached the hatch, and waved, then disappeared.

City Hall was crowded with well-wishers, and even without Lee, we were all still feted with enthusiasm.
After an hour I had Chip contact Seaview to find out what was taking Lee so long, only to be told the president, Admiral Cartwright, and the Secretary of Defense still had him on the phone.
It was difficult to appreciate the fine roast beef, Yorkshire Pudding and gravy, smoked salmon, and champagne.
“I’m so sorry Lee’s stuck on the phone with Washington,” I told the mayor after a second call. “I doubt if he can get away in time, even for dessert.”
But I was wrong. A commotion at the door showed Lee, still in the kilt, and Winston entering accompanied by Will, who was garbed in his dress blues.
Lee was greeted with rapturous applause and at least the mayor didn’t ask for details about his long call from Washington. Winston was waggling his tail as he was treated to some tidbits of left over roast beef, and Lee was very pleased to try some trifle from a huge glass bowl heaped with whipped cream and ladyfingers, jam and chocolate. I was glad to see Will had approved and wondered if the time spent on the call had included a GI blood work test.
Hours of polite conversation later, we said our goodbyes and were returned to Seaview via the mayor’s limo.
As soon as we returned to Seaview, sated and somewhat inebriated, I decided not to pester Lee about the Washington calls. But come morning, I was going to have a little talk with both the president and Cartwright for pestering my boy so much.
Sort of. Maybe.
Oh hell.