An Unexpected Thanksgiving

By

Beth Kauffman

I wrote this story a few years ago for the Harriman Nelson Yahoo group but apparently never posted it anywhere else. I found it recently while rearranging my story files. Hope you enjoy it and for all who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson, ensconced in a chair in the Observation Nose, stared out at the ocean on the other side of the huge windows that fronted his submarine Seaview, lost so deeply in thought he never heard the soft tread behind him.

“Admiral?”

Turning at the soft call, he smiled slightly as he saw his captain, Lee Crane standing behind him, a troubled look on his face.

“What is it, Lee?” he asked, his frown matching Lee’s.

“We just recalculated our arrival time in Santa Barbara.  We won’t get in for another three days.  With the damage we experienced by that underwater quake, we’re moving as fast as we can but it’s not going to be fast enough.”

Leaning back in his chair, Nelson ran a hand over the side of his head and sighed unhappily.  “So, we won’t make it in time then?” he asked softly, sadness for his crew filling him as he knew the news, while not unexpected, would be unwelcome.

“No,” Lee answered softly, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he seated himself on the edge of a table by Nelson’s side.  “We won’t be home until oh, a day or two after Thanksgiving probably.”

“I had hoped we could make it,” Nelson sighed, shaking his head at the knowledge his men would be spending another holiday away from their loved ones.

“I just hope Cookie has something other than Spam left to feed us,” Lee joked, knowing they were going to be limited in what food they had available for the run home, the mission already running overtime even before the quake had hit.

Smiling ruefully, Nelson merely nodded.  “Let’s hope.  I…I think I’ll go let him know he needs to find something…festive to serve,” Nelson said as he rose and walked by Crane, slapping him on the back as he passed. Unnoticed, was the thoughtful look that came over Nelson’s face as he slowly walked through the Control Room, his thumb absently rubbing his lower lip.

~O~

As expected, the news they would not make it back to Santa Barbara in time for Thanksgiving, and shore leave, was met with a few grumbles but mostly with a nonchalant acceptance.  One didn’t serve on Seaview and expect all to go according to plan.  The crew members that had been onboard the longest knew that and the newest ones would learn it soon enough.

~O~

Thanksgiving Day arrived and the doors to the mess hall were kept closed once a surprisingly ample breakfast of apple cinnamon pancakes, eggs and thick slices of bacon had been served, causing no amount of curiosity from the crew. 

Finally, noon arrived and a long line began to form outside the door to the mess hall as the crew members not on duty in vital areas, wondered what Cookie had been able to cobble together for their “feast”.  Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and then at almost exactly 1230 hours, the doors to the mess hall were flung open, surprisingly by Admiral Nelson himself who apologized profusely for the delay and stood back to allow the men to enter.

The first few entered quickly, curious as to what Cookie could have found in the nooks and crannies of his kitchen to prepare on this special day and came to an abrupt halt.  Before them they saw the usual metal tables they ate every meal at covered in linen table cloths adorned with festive fall leaves or whimsical turkeys.  Long tables were spread about the room and arrayed on those tables were platters and bowls of turkey, ham, potatoes, vegetables, fresh baked bread, stuffing and gravy.  Glasses of wine in paper cups were at each place setting awaiting the men.

The redolent scents of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves filled the air coupled with the heady aroma of the freshly baked bread and their noses, followed by their eyes, were drawn to the tables set up in the back that were covered with pies, cakes, and stacks of cookies.

Nelson, standing off to the side, smiled as he saw the confusion and astonishment on his men’s faces.  “Sit, gentlemen,” he called just before a ruckus at the back of the line could be heard.

“What’s going on?  Why aren’t you all moving inside?” The disgruntled voice of Captain Lee Crane could be heard as he slipped around the row of men that still stood dumbstruck, his own jaw dropping at what he saw before him.

Turning his astonished eyes to Nelson, who stood with crossed arms and a satisfied, smug look on his face, he smiled as he walked towards him, Chip Morton on his heels.

“How?  There’s no way any of this was stashed onboard somewhere,” Crane said as the men, now over their surprise, were crowding in and claiming spots at the tables, their voices raised in excited chatter.

Nelson gracefully shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips.  “A good magician never gives away his secrets.  Gentlemen, your seats,” he said to his captain and executive officer, gesturing behind him to a table set aside for the officers, several of whom had already seated themselves before the feast.

Shaking their heads in bewilderment, Lee and Chip followed the admiral to the head table and sat down.

Grabbing a cup of wine that had already been poured, Nelson cleared his throat to draw his crew’s attention, waiting until their voices stilled, and in his deep, rich voice said, “Gentlemen, I know this day is not what you thought it would be when we first left port a few months ago.  We’ve experienced, as usual, more excitement than it seems should be necessary for a simple research boat,” he joked, waiting until the laughter died down a bit.  “Each of you here deserves to be with your families or whoever you had planned to be with today.  Unfortunately, that is not the case.  So to you, I raise my cup and thank you for your service, for your dedication and for your presence here aboard this boat.” With that Nelson raised his cup, followed by his men and downed the contents in one swallow.  Catching the eyes of Kowalski, Patterson and Sharkey, he nodded and winked, smiling conspiratorially at the men who returned his nod and smile. “Now…let’s eat!”

Smiling, Nelson sat down, watching in contentment as his men excitedly dug into the assortment of food before them.

“So how did you do it?  Really.  And don’t give me that magician stuff,” Lee ordered leaning close to Nelson who was studiously avoiding looking at his friend and was busy placing a little bit of everything on his plate. 

“There’s no way any of this stuff was onboard when we left port,” Chip said quietly as he too took to covering the smiling turkey on his paper plate with turkey and ham. “I know.  I checked in all the food shipments.”

“I agree.  It wasn’t onboard.  At first,” Nelson replied, his lips twitching in amusement.

“At first?  What do you mean not at…wait a minute.  I tried to find you last night and couldn’t.  I looked everywhere.  You took the Flying Sub back to port, didn’t you?” Lee asked with a surprised look on his face, never having expected that from the man by his side who seemed, to some, to be unaware of things such as holidays, important dates or the feelings of his crew.

“Now Lee, how would I be able to launch FS-1 without anyone on the night watch knowing?” he asked with a quirked eye as he forked up a piece of turkey and chewed it with a slight smile on his face as he watched Lee try to figure it out.

“You had help obviously.  Someone on the night watch last night,” he reasoned, turning his eyes to Kowalski, Patterson and Sharkey who were all looking at him with big guilty smiles on their faces.  “You could have asked me to help,” he admonished in a slightly petulant tone.

“What?  And deprive you and me of a good surprise?”

“How far did you have to go, sir?” Chip asked, a bit of gravy lingering on his lips for a second before he wiped it off.

San Diego. I had a friend at the sub base there gather up all the supplies I thought we would need, after asking Cookie’s help of course.  Some of this was already prepared when I got there and just needed heating.  Cookie and his men did the rest.  These stars come in quite handy at times,” Nelson joked as he fingered the four shiny stars on his collar.  “So does having a flying submarine that can do Mach 2!”

“That must have taken you all night,” Lee said in shock, only now noticing the dark circles under Nelson’s eyes and the slight stubble on his chin.

“A good chunk of it,” he chuckled.  “Pat and Sharkey made sure FS-1 was launched with no one knowing and Kowalski was my co-pilot and muscle.  One hundred and fifty pounds of turkey and ham can get quite heavy to load after awhile.”

“I’m surprised you managed to stuff all this onboard,” Chip frowned.

“It wasn’t easy,” Nelson sighed.  “Every part of the Flying Sub was crammed with boxes, turkeys, ham…well everything you see here.  Kowalski had more than a few things on his lap on the way back.”

“Why Admiral?” Lee asked quietly as he saw the delight on his boss’ face as he watched his men eat, some who slipped happy glances to their commanding officers briefly before going back to their meal.

“Look at them,” Nelson said with a slight smile, his chin jerking in their direction.  “They deserve to be with their families but…well circumstances prevented that.  So, I suppose this is the next best thing.  It’s been a rough year in many ways for the sub…and the men.  We’ve lost a few good crewmen over the past year and we had our share of danger and trouble.  But there have been some joyous occasions also, not only for the men of Seaview, but for the Institute as well. A few babies were born to members of the crew and Institute staff, new research buildings are almost ready to open at the Institute and there’s promising research at NIMR making breakthroughs and discoveries.  For those things alone, we should be thankful.”

Lee turned from his perusal of Nelson, who watched his men enjoying themselves while being careful to not fall too far behind his officers in putting away the food on the table, to the crew.  Big smiles graced their faces and a low rumble of animated voices filled the room as they enjoyed the bountiful buffet, their hearts, for the moment, light.

Nodding, Crane was thankful once more for having been chosen by Nelson to captain his submarine, something that had been unexpected.  Almost as unexpected was the friendship that had developed between the admiral and himself, growing stronger over the years.

“Sometimes, it’s the unexpected things you find you’re most thankful for, Admiral,” Lee murmured, sidling a quick glance to the man at his side who nodded, glancing to him and smiling.

“That’s very true, Lee.  Very true.  Now, you seem to be falling behind the rest of us,” he said gesturing to Chip’s almost empty plate and Lee’s full one.  “If you want there to be any desserts left when you’re through, I suggest you catch up to Mr. Morton and me.”

With a smile, Nelson watched his friends dig into the feast, Lee’s words echoing in his mind.  Unexpected things…yes, sometimes they were the most appreciated, he thought as he turned his gaze from his officers, to his men, then turned his thoughts to his Seaview.  To him, she was not unexpected. She’d been in his dreams, his thoughts, his plans for many, many years.  But what had grown between him and the men arrayed before him, was unexpected, and for that, he was now and would always be, truly thankful.

 

I realize that even though Seaview is a magnificent submarine, the chances that she has a mess hall big enough to seat, at one time, almost the entire crew is unlikely. But then again, she is Nelson’s brainchild, so who knows? I hope you’ll forgive any mistakes you may find in this story. And may we all be blessed with unexpected joys.

When you look at life through eyes of gratitude, the world becomes a magical and amazing place. ~ Jennifer Gayle

 

The End