It’s Time to Say Goodbye… (Excerpt)

Inspired by Kantai Collection

By William J. Law

Iowa drove her car onto Berth 87.

“Whoa!” Yamato and Kongou said in awe as they looked out the car window. Outside was the USS Iowa towering higher than the Statue of Liberty. This would be the first time either of them would have seen an Iowa-class battleship in person in their life, whether it’d be this life or their previous one.

Iowa smiled and continued to the parking lot. All three stepped out, revealing that they were wearing casual clothes.

“She is a beauty!” Kongou said as she snapped a couple pictures.

“I sure am!” Iowa jested. “Come on. There’s someone that wants to meet you.”

Yamato and Kongou traded a brief puzzled look, but followed Iowa to the forward gangplank.

“Hi, Mike,” Iowa said as she unhooked the barrier to jump the line.

“Ma’am,” he greeted with a friendly smile and salute.

“Is this okay?” Yamato asked. “Don’t we have to buy tickets?”

“That’d be like buying tickets to get into your own house,” Iowa said. She led her two guests up the gangplank. Before stepping on the deck, she looked to the stern of the ship and saluted. Then she turned to the volunteer in front of her.

“Permission to come aboard?” she asked.

“Permission granted!” he saluted. “Welcome back ma’am.”

“I’d hate to be disrespectful, Iowa, but you are in pretty bad condition,” Kongou said as they walked along the plywood sheets of the tour route.

“I know. Sixteen years in Mothball can do that,” Iowa said solemnly. She turned around and walked along the tour path to the wardroom.

“That long in Mothball?” Yamato wondered to Kongou.

“Yeah, and she said she was threatened to be scrapped at least once.”

“I am honestly surprised she had not returned as a Shinkaisei-kan based on the feeling of neglect alone.”

Inside the wardroom, just in front of the lounge area, there was a girl standing in front of an empty table. She was probably headed into her late teens. She had short light hair and was notably dressed in denim pants and crop top jacket.

“This is the girl that wanted to meet you,” she heard Iowa’s voice behind her. “Kongou, Yamato, this is-”

“USS Hoel, DD-533,” the girl interjected. “This would be the first time we met since October 25, 1944.”

The two Japanese shook hands with the destroyer. Hoel didn’t continue talking. Instead she looked back at the empty table with a somber look on her face.

“Is there something wrong with her?” Kongou whispered to Iowa.

“One of her surviving crewmembers sat here and talked about his time on Hoel. Especially the Battle off Samar,” Iowa whispered back.

“His name was Bob DeSpain,” Hoel began. “I was told on June 30th. He was 91 and a half years old to the day. He was with me since the beginning. From shakedown all the way to my sinking. Always clear and got things done. I remember…I remember my blood-soaked decks. I remember pain of the chemical burns he sustained. I remember him being selfless as he gave his life vest to someone else. I remember the shock that was felt as he saw the Yamato sail past. I remember…I remember…”

Her voice faltered, tears dripping down her cheeks.

“…And I never got to meet him in my second life!” she wailed. “I never got to apologize! I’m sorry I couldn’t do more!”

Iowa held Hoel in a tight embrace as the girl let out all of her emotions as well as those of all her crewmen on that day.

“Do…Do you remember what your crew felt?” Kongou asked Yamato.

“I try not to think about it…” Yamato said, tears forming in her eyes.

“And to think that we were responsible for pummeling a destroyer into oblivion, thinking it was a heavy cruiser. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

“Don’t blame yourselves,” Iowa said. “It was war and we were machines. We did as our crew commanded. And I was taken up north on a wild goose chase.”

“But if Hoel still blames us-” Yamato began before Iowa cut her off.

“She doesn’t. But she still has a hard time dealing with death.”

Iowa patted the head of a sniffling Hoel before continuing.

“Sometimes it’s just time to say ‘Goodbye’.”

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