I'm not sure what is expected of me in this new world I find myself in. No amount of research and briefing when I was at the paper could have prepared me for the real thing. It is hard for me to even believe that this is the same type of vehicle as the other dirigibles that I have been on. What differences there are between a commercial zeppelin and a military one. Of course it isn't just the type of dirigible that is different in this case, there is another large difference between this one and the last I was on and it is one that terrifies me. This ship uses hydrogen instead of helium. It amazes me that they haven't banned the creation of all dirigibles instead of just commercial ones since the helium embargo. It's as if they think it's okay if people in the armed forces blow up. I have heard that in the army smoking is a great comfort but this comfort is forbidden to the air force for obvious reasons. This means that on top of everything else I am forced to give up the solace of my cigarettes.
I reported to the airfield at eight o'clock in the morning like I had been ordered. There was a member of the crew waiting for me when I arrived and instantly the whirlwind began. My luggage was scooped up by one member of the crew, while a petty officer began to lecture me about how I should have arrived in uniform, all the while my guide was trying to respectfully whisk me off to the bridge. He finally won over the petty officer by reminding that the captain wanted to see me.
It seemed as if the captain had been waiting for me as well, and that only succeeded in worrying me more. From my experience with my father having a captain wait for you, and making them wait, would lead to an all mighty tongue lashing and a permanent hatred. The captain didn't act angry though, just serious, during our very brief meeting. He told me very frankly but without any personal dislike that he hadn't wanted a reporter on his ship and that he only allowed me on his ship because he had been ordered to. He said that he understood that I had no training but that he expected me to learn and not drag my feet about it. He also added that he expected me to do my share, that on dirigibles they don't like to have a pound of dead weight, but I still don't know how he intends to put me to use.
I was then swept from the bridge without being able to say anything in response and told that they didn't want to see me there unless I was invited. Then my guide showed me to my room and left me to my own devices. Like the officers I get my own room, which is more then I expected. It isn't on the lower deck so it doesn't have a window but I can live with that in exchange for privacy to write in. It's smaller then the cabin of a steamer in size, the desk is a fold away and I can't get up into my bunk when the desk is lowered. I suspect that my portable typewriter is going to become my new love in this confined space. My room also has a wash stand and a small closet so I can address basics in my room without having to mingle with the crew. If the glances that I got while I was dragged through the ship are any indication I will be grateful to not have much to do with them. They look a rough lot and I suspect that they would flatten me into the deck if I bothered them.
I will not be able to avoid the others completely, the mess is public and has scheduled meals at which I am to eat. I have yet to see the quality of the food yet but I have steeled myself for the worst. I have heard stories about what the food given to the armed forces can be like sometimes. The food isn't all that grate even at home with the food rationing going on. On the plus side the mess hall has windows that can be opened so I will get some fresh air and sunlight even though I am now going to be traveling inside of a giant balloon. I have to go now though, I have to write my first real article to send back to the paper about everything that has happened so far, instead of indulging in my own private self reflection.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment