BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  “You’re right, Alex. The Germans were exceptionally unhappy about what we were doing. So, they sent out a bunch of their U-boats. You know what those are?”

  “Oh, yes, sir,” said Jack. “Nazi submarines.” Not being Navy didn’t mean he was clueless.

  “Right-o, Jack. The Nazis sent out their subs—and not for a friendly chat. The U-boats traveled in what they called Wolf Packs to stop us from resupplying our friends. They started sinking our ships—right to the bottom of the Atlantic. And, as you can imagine, that was a huge loss for the US Merchant Marine.”

  At this, Jack became confused. “Who is that, sir? Weren’t US Navy sailors the ones getting torpedoed?”

  “No, our sailors weren’t on the cargo ships. There’s a difference between Merchant Marine and Navy. Two kinds of people sail ships on the high seas, because there are two kinds of ships. The first are cargo ships. They transport all kinds of goods around the world. Those cargo ships are operated by a country’s Merchant Marine. Those mariners aren’t fighting men. The second kind of ships are warships: aircraft carriers, destroyers, and troop transport ships like the USS Upshur. The war ships are operated by a nation’s Navy.

  “But don’t get me wrong. Even if the US Merchant Marine isn’t in business to fight, they were critical to the success of World War II, and to any war effort. Their skills are in transporting huge volumes of cargo across major oceans and getting it there safely.

  “The U-boats failed to make our merchant mariners quit, but the mariners did think long and hard about how to evade the subs. They decided their best bet was a more difficult route far north in the Atlantic. Until then, they’d used the same route we’re using for this voyage. They started sailing close to the North Pole, where the waters are often rough and treacherously icy.

  “If you think the passengers on this ship have been seasick, you can bet your last dollar they’d never want to sail that northern route. The merchant mariners probably didn’t like it either, but they knew the U-boat captains wouldn’t follow them into icy waters.”

  Alex blurted, “Did it work?”

  “Yes. The U-boats didn’t follow, and the number of torpedoed ships dropped dramatically. The English and Russians were once again getting supplies to continue the fight.”

  “Wow, great story,” Jack said, but unable to stop himself, added, “I’m sorry, sir, but did I miss the part about remember-able objectives?”

  Lt. Commander Brink’s hand whipped up, palm out. “Hold your horses. I’m just getting warmed up. You see, the U-boats quit sinking the merchant ships, but the Germans weren’t about to let those ships pass. They, too, were a major fighting force who refused to give up. With the U-boats out of commission, the Germans engaged the Luftwaffe. You boys know what that is?”

  Neither boy was sure.

  “The Luftwaffe was the German Air Force during World War II. The word actually means air-weapon, and it definitely was. They sent in their long-range bombers to sink our ships. No amount of icy water would stop them.”

  “Did it work?” asked Alex.

  “Many times, yes. The Merchant Marine started losing ships again. They needed a new solution, and they came to the US Navy.”

  Lt. Commander Brink smiled. “That’s when I came into this picture. You see, I was stationed at the Pentagon in those days. The Pentagon is that huge, five-sided building in Washington, DC, where the head of the US Navy has his office. Anyway, representatives from the Merchant Marine came to us for answers. We at Naval headquarters gave their problem considerable thought. After all, we wanted safe passage for their crews and cargo as badly as the Merchant Marine did.”

  There was a pause as Ernie arrived with a platter of German ginger cookies from the buffet table. Commander Allen looked as involved in the story as the kids were. He said, “Boys, we owe the Merchant Marine a great debt. Winston Churchill called their heroic effort to deliver supplies ‘The Battle of the Atlantic.’ It became the longest, toughest naval battle of all time.”

  Lt. Commander Brink nodded. “That’s right. We lost even more Merchant Marine ships than Navy ships. And even one would have been too many. The Navy offered to put anti-aircraft guns on the ships so that the merchant mariners could defend themselves against the German bombers. It took a bit of doing, but we finally got all those cargo ships outfitted with Navy anti-aircraft guns.”

  He chose a cookie from Ernie’s tray. “And as you gentlemen know, those aren’t a bunch of little pea-shooters. They’re serious anti-aircraft cannons. We showed the mariners how to use them, and how to record when they shot down an enemy aircraft. Then we sent them on their way. Of course, the Luftwaffe still dogged them, intent to sink them. But this time, the mariners started shooting back. Unfortunately, some months later, the sitrep showed those mariners couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. They hadn’t shot down a single German bomber.

  “Why? The Merchant Marine isn’t a force of fighting men. They hadn’t received much training on the anti-aircraft guns—and it showed. They simply couldn’t hit anything.”

  Jack was puzzled. “Why are Navy gunners so much better?”

  “Pretty simple: Navy gunners spend years training to hit fast-approaching aircraft. Merchant mariners become expert in safely moving huge cargo. Those skills are too different to transfer from one task to the other.”

  “Why weren’t Navy gunners on the ships, sir?” Alex asked.

  Commander Allen smiled. “Well, Alex, that was an issue of politics. We weren’t officially in the war yet, so we couldn’t use military combatants.”

  Lt. Commander Brink nodded. “Our hands were tied. Since the mariners couldn’t shoot accurately, we decided it was pointless to leave the guns on the ships. Fortunately, the Chief of Naval Operations was also in that meeting, and he’d been quietly considering the whole thing. He finally asked, ‘How many ships have been sunk since they started shooting back at the bombers?’ And, guess what? When we checked with the Merchant Marine, it turned out no ships had been sunk since the mariners started shooting.

  “Seems that the merchant mariners might not be able to hit a barn, but it also looked like the Luftwaffe pilots didn’t much like getting shot at. Apparently it messed up the accuracy of their bombing raids.

  “So the Merchant Marine kept our anti-aircraft guns, and the mariners kept wrecking the aim of the Luftwaffe pilots. I suppose you can guess the point of my story. In the heat of battle, when the bullets start flying, we often forget what the objective is. In this case, if it hadn’t been for the Chief of Naval Operations, we never would have remembered. The objective had nothing to do with how many enemy aircraft got shot down, it was about preventing our ships from being sunk. So you see, the objective needs to be remember-able.”

  He gave them a wink, and they grinned back.

  Sometime later, Alex leaned over and said, “So, Jack, can you tell me our Objective Statement for this ocean crossing?”

  “Three words: Explore the Upshur.”

  “Remember-able,” said Alex.

  Jack leaned back in his chair. “Accomplished.”

  Jack hated to miss any stories, but he knew he should be the one to pick up their laundry. He was the one with the least supervision. Alex’s mom would notice if Alex went missing, and Mrs. McMasters was imagining Jack under Mrs. Knox’s protective eye. While his mom was occupied dancing, Jack slipped out with a huge, fancy dinner napkin loaded with German ginger cookies he’d swiped off the dessert buffet. He double-timed it to the laundry facility, thanked the workers with cookies (who enjoyed busting his chops over the greasy napkin to wash), collected the clothes, and hurried to their quarters to stuff them into their bags. Jack slowed his pace on the way back to the dance so he could catch his breath.

  When he plopped down in his seat, Alex placed a Coke in front of him. “I promised Ernie you’d be back for this. Would you believe he was the only person wh
o noticed you were gone?”

  “Just as it should be.” Jack raised his glass.

  In bed that night, Jack thought back on Lt. Commander Brink’s story. How easy it could be to forget the real objective. Eventually, Jack fell asleep for his last time on the USS Upshur, little knowing that the time would come when this war story’s lesson would come back to help him—and that, when it did, it would prove crucial to all their lives.

  8

  Bremerhaven

  The next morning, four victorious rascals headed for their usual lookout, knowing that today they’d really see land. The wind was blowing, as always, but for once the sky had turned a beautiful blue, with huge, white clouds, and the sun was out in full force. That sky did wonders, turning the ocean from flat gray to dark blue. Suddenly it seemed like Germany would be a wonderful place.

  The wind was freezing as they ran up the port-side deck. The closer they’d gotten to Germany, the more it felt like winter. Rounding a curve, Jack lost his footing when a massive bell clanged directly above him. He thought the sound might split his head open as he slammed onto the deck. When Queenie stumbled over him, she yelled, “Jack, you dipstick. Out of my way.”

  Alex shot past him. “Come on, Jack. Follow me.”

  Jack managed to pick himself up and move out. Their private lookout was crowded with people.

  “Hey, they’re in our spot,” yelled Rabbit, as she began squeezing her way to the front.

  The others managed to find space along the deck railing not far from the front. Now, after seven days, they saw the city of Bremerhaven.

  For some reason Jack glanced over at Alex and Queenie as they stared at the port. Sadness nearly knocked him down again. Why did he care about getting to Germany? How stupid! The moment the USS Upshur docked, he’d lose his new best friend. The thought hurt more than the sound of that bell. Sure, he should have realized this from the start. After all, he was a brat. But this was the first time that the impending loss of Alex hit him. They’d been so preoccupied with exploring the ship.

  “Okay,” said Alex, addressing the group, “it looks like it’s gonna be another hour or two before we really get into port. Let’s go have breakfast and come back in time to get a decent place.”

  Jack forced himself to say, “Good plan. Let’s do it.”

  Queenie yelled, “Come on, Rabbit. We’re out of here!” She reached a clawlike hand into the crowd, dragging Rabbit along with them.

  At breakfast they saw Ernie and started to say goodbye.

  “It’s not goodbye yet,” he said. “The ship won’t dock till around fourteen hundred hours. Things slow way down once the ship gets into the harbor. We can say all that at lunch.”

  As they left the dining room, they ran into Mrs. McMasters. She gave them the same message and told them to meet her for lunch at noon.

  By the time they returned topside, the ship was much closer to the port. As the crowd came and went, they edged their way up into better and better spots. About an hour later, they spotted a tugboat headed toward them.

  “Hey, remember what Commander Allen said about the pilot coming on board?” Alex said, all excited. “He might be on that tug.”

  “No doubt,” said Queenie. “Let’s go.”

  Rabbit turned, saying, “Are you nuts? We finally got a good spot.”

  “But it’s the wrong spot,” said Jack. “We want the accommodation ladder, that swinging staircase the pilot uses.”

  They headed aft, Rabbit naturally in the lead toward the small deck with the ladder. This time she even kind of knew where she was going. Creeping onto the deck, they heard a chief yelling orders. The kids slowed their pace, looking to hide before the chief threw them out. Seeing a lifeboat, they crept up to hide between it and the rail. So far, no tugboat, but they knew this was the right spot to observe, as long as they didn’t get caught. They squeezed down tight, staying quiet.

  The tug, when it showed up moments later, might have been a pretty good size, but near the USS Upshur, it looked like a tiny toy boat. It eased alongside the Upshur and drifted right up to the stairway. A couple of seamen from the tugboat held the accommodation ladder while a guy jumped from the tug and mounted the stairs. He was the first German they’d ever seen.

  Alex leaned over to Jack and whispered, “You think he was a Nazi during the war?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said, checking him out carefully.

  Almost before they knew it, the pilot was on board and heading for the bridge, Commander Allen, and the captain.

  “Wow, without being here to see it, you’d never even know anyone came aboard,” muttered Jack.

  “Back to the front of the ship!” yelled Rabbit, and she bolted.

  As they hurried back, Jack’s mood again took a dive. Things are always an adventure with Alex. How will I ever find another friend like him?

  Back topside, the place was mobbed.

  Queenie pointed to a small group of sailors just standing around. “Why do those guys keep looking at their watches? That won’t make the ship dock any faster.”

  “They’re probably part of the anchor pool.”

  “Come again,” she said, sounding fed up with the constant Navy-speak.

  “They’re betting on the exact hour and minute the ship drops anchor or ties up.”

  “Maybe we could get in on that,” Jack said.

  “Not likely. It’s very hush-hush. They’re not supposed to bet on it. But . . .” Alex shrugged. “And they’re probably going on liberty. They have on their thirteen-buttons.”

  Queenie’s lip curled in disgust, “Alex, you’re such a pain-in-the-butt. Try it again. This time, in English.”

  Jack gave Alex an exaggerated frown for offending such an oh-so-superior human being. But Alex merely pretended to yawn.

  Jack wanted to remember this moment. Life was such fun with Alex.

  Perhaps Alex thought he’d tortured her enough, because he explained. “They’re going ashore. They probably have a three-day pass. Liberty just means time off. Like being liberated. And as for the thirteen-buttons, just take a look at their bell-bottoms. There’s no zipper in the front—just a big, square flap with thirteen buttons closing up the pants. It’s the dress uniform they have to wear when they go ashore.”

  Rolling her eyes at Alex, and Jack as well, she declared, “Pathetic. Their pants are pathetic and you two are pathetic.”

  “I’ll tell you pathetic,” said Alex, waiting till Queenie looked away to return Jack’s wink. “Pathetic is when one of those sailors has to pee really bad and doesn’t get all thirteen of those buttons undone before he starts going all over himself.” Jack and Alex cracked up.

  Queenie turned in a huff. “Little boys and their obsession with pee-pee talk!”

  That got the boys laughing so hard they almost peed their own pants.

  Eventually they worked their way up to the rail. They weren’t right up front, but they still had a pretty good view. The tugboat was now well out in front, towing the ship, just as Commander Allen had told them it would. After days alone at sea, they were suddenly in a huge harbor surrounded by watercraft of all kinds and sizes.

  Alex pointed to a pier anchored out in the harbor. Two ships were tied to it, one on each side. Other ships were lined up, waiting to dock there. “That’s where they do the refueling. See the pipes and hoses coming out to the ships from the dock? That’s gotta be diesel fuel. That’ll be the huge fuel tank on that platform beyond the pier.”

  Jack knew he should be interested in the discussion. He wasn’t. And he could tell Alex’s heart wasn’t in it either. Alex was just trying to distract them, to keep their minds off what was ahead.

  “Wow, that coal loader is choice,” said Jack. He would do his part.

  “Definitely. The Navy does things on a large scale,” Alex said, a hint of pride showing.

 
The Upshur began to slow, waiting for an open berth in order to dock and unload.

  The kids decided to head back for lunch.

  As they entered the dining room, Ernie gave them his usual grin. “Right this way.” He then mouthed, “Hi, Rabbit,” and she mouthed back, “Hi, Ernie.”

  He led them to where Mrs. McMasters was seated with Alex’s family. This time it was a bigger table, laid out for twelve people. They were also joined by Commander Allen and some of his officers. Jack and Alex were seated near Commander Knox and Commander Allen. As lunch progressed, Commander Allen turned to the kids and said, “Welcome to Germany. Do you know much about what to expect?”

  They shook their heads in silence. Much better than saying, “Nope.”

  “Alex, your family will be stationed right here in Bremerhaven, by the sea. Jack, you can expect a five-hour train ride south to your father’s base in Baden-Württemberg. It’s inland, near the mountains.”

  Commander Allen was just filling the kids in on the score. But for Jack and Alex, his words came as a jolt. They’d been half hoping that “Germany” meant “near each other.” This was a death sentence for their friendship.

  “You might be surprised to see how well the Germans accept us since only a few years ago we were at war with each other. In fact, World War II was the largest war in the history of mankind. It’s considered an epic battle between the forces of good and evil. More than twenty-five million people died in that war.” Commander Allen’s words were getting Jack’s attention off his own troubles.

  “Forces of evil. That’s the Nazis, right?” asked Jack.

  “Correct. The Nazis and the Japanese.”

  “Are the Nazis still here? Will we see them?”

  “That’s an interesting question,” said the commander. “The answer is yes and no. You see, when we won the war, the Nazi Party was abolished. So technically there are no more Nazis.

  However, many of the German adults you will meet were Nazis. Most of them won’t want to remember that fact, so it would be impolite for you to bring it up.”