8 Short Stories
Admirals and Dreadnoughts
by Floyd Looney
“My King, we have received distressing news. Very distressing indeed!” The Minister of Foreign Affairs Yvegeny Torvald said seeming agitated.
“My good man, what exactly is the problem? What is this news that does distress you so?”
“Sir, your Eminence, your highness, your lordship...”
“Get to the point Torvald” The King said, getting a bit impatient.
“A diplomatic cable arrived this morning at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It was... it was a declaration of war!”
“War?” The King said becoming angered “Who dares to make war with the Grand Kingdom of Rostova?”
“The Haps, the Hapsburg Empire, sir”
“That is a tough trip for their armies, those mountain ranges are impassable at the best of times and they are covered with ice, an early winter is hearkened” The King said “We are safe until at least next summer. So calm down”.
“I have also received information from the Tiranese that the Haps have been allowed to gather a large and rather impressive naval force at Roma and are setting sail or steam for our shores as we speak”
The King ran a hand over his chin. “I have a fleet. The Imperial Fleet of Rostova has the finest warships ever constructed, the rest of the world might still be using logs for all we care. I will write up my instructions to the fleet immediately. It's been three generations since we have been at war with any nation, and this will prove to the world that we are still the real power around here.”
“Very good sir” The Minister of Foreign Affairs waved over a scribe to copy down the words of his royal majesty.
1.Assemble the Fleet
2.Prepare the Vessels
3.Meet the Enemy without Mercy
“So few points of instructions and so generalized” Torvald muttered to himself. “We should recall the crews first, sir, our navy has been at reserve status for sixty years”
The King sighed “Should I be worried?”
“No, no... I would never suggest anything to alarm your highness” Torvald replied “There are just a few minor details I think you should know about”.
“Minor details?”
“We have a very fine officer corps of course, the finest on Earth. None of them have ever witnessed real combat, although there have been simulations. Your highness has awarded Admiralty status to supporters and family members of your wives over the years.”
“You have a point, Minister Torvald?”
“Our naval forces are rather top-heavy with high-ranking officers....”
The Admiralty Building, 4th floor, a wide selection of food to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Mount Sam Yankee, which is why there was a gathering.
“Vice Admiral Roskov, sir”
“Yes Rear Admiral?”
“Sir, I have been informed by my Junior Admiral that all of our ships are still in port!”
“Still in port? The enemy is on the horizon! Why are our ships still in port! Have you contacted the Port Admiral?”
“Yes sir. The Port Admiral informs me that we have no crews, sir.”
“No crews?”
“Yes sir”
“Then who are all these people?”
“That is the Lieutenant Admiral Gorshov, over there is Right Admiral Petrovsky, and there is High Admiral Kursk, sir”
“Are you telling me that we only have Admirals?”
“Yes sir”
“But who cooked this food?”
“That was Chief Steward...”
“Right then...”
“... Kitchen Admiral Grumsky, sir”
“What a mess, I suppose we’ll just have to watch our fleet get sunk at dockside, tell Admiral Grumsky to prepare popcorn, Rear Admiral”
“Yes sir”
King Vilham II himself has been informed of this naval deficiency, alerted by the messenger sent from the Admiralty, one Low Admiral Douglas Yablonksy, 23.
The King issued a decree through the Minister of Affairs, who passed it down to the Minister of the Interior, who passed it along to the Minister for Foreign Activities, who passed it on the Minister of War.
It was a long table.
I, King Vilhelm II, do decree that all Admirals beneath the rank of Left Admiral be ordered to man the imperial vessels while higher ranking Admirals will command the vessels from their bridge. Not from the afar. Starting with the most powerful vessels on down.
The Admiralty was shocked by their new orders. The Admiralty Assembly of some two hundred men were not happy.
“I’m an Admiral, not a grease monkey” one Junior Admiral said
“I am admiral, I don’t handle gunpowder” One Vice Admiral retorted
“I’m allergic to manual labor” said one wet-behind-the-ears Admiral Cadet
The near universal rejection of this decree seemed certain until the first shells exploded just off shore. The enemy was nearly within range of their big guns. The panic was palpable.
“I believe there is some merit to the decree” said the General Admiral at the podium “Let us put it to the vote, aye or nay”
The group of spiffily uniformed men were already trying to escape the seaside hall. The ayes won the vote nearly unanimously.
Arriving aboard the Imperial Battleship Persnickety Junior Admiral Gorky was ordered by Commanding Admiral Gershkov to the engine room. Upon arrival he was ordered to warm up the boilers, but he had no clue how to do that, and judging from the steam they seemed hot to him.
Vice Admiral Hornicker shook his head “We should have drafted the peasants for this job!”
Gorky was shocked. Peasants? But wearing a spiffy uniform and being an honored military man was for the ruling elite, the higher class, the snobs! Then he regarded the oily gloves and apron that his new duty required... Yes, he thought, Mister Hornicker had a point there.
“We need steam to move this ship!” came the order “Heat up the boilers, we need high pressure!”
High pressure, steam, this was all far too danger for a dandy like me, Gorky told himself. Still, he was an honorable gentleman and he was to follow his instructions.
Commanding Admiral Gershkov stood upon the bridge deck of the imperial battleship and regarded the looming and growing figures on the horizon. The enemy had arrived on our shores. Something had to be done, even if they were dockside.
“Admiral... I mean Gunnery Master... train the forward and rear main guns on the enemy fleet!”
“At port sir?” The young admiral answered.
“There is no time!”
“Yes sir” he answered, he knew his job. He had actually enjoyed the simulations at Admiralty School. After receiving the information on the targets he sent the orders down to the forward and aft main gun turrets, each with two big 14” guns.
Soon, although far too slowly in a combat situation, the turrets began to turn. The four guns began inching up to arc the 1,000 pound shells down upon the enemy.
“This is taking longer than it should” Commanding Admiral Gershkov grumbled.
Presently, the young admiral acting as Gunnery Master called out “Ready to fire, on your mark sir”
“Fire!”
The ship shook violently, everyone standing up fell down, and half those seated did as well. The ship tilted sideways until the hull kissed the pier. The noise was deafening and many of the Admirals on board were frightened by such a hellish noise.
For the first time in living memory, the Kingdom of Rostova was at war.
END
Boy of the River Bank
by Floyd Looney