I went on a tour of the dirigible today, soaking up as much as I could, though some of what I have learned will not be written about for the paper for security reasons. All of my letters to the paper, like the letters of all of our armed forces, will go though the censures. It is the depressing truth that my carefully chosen words and neat phrases might fall, never to see the light of day, under the black pen of the government.
The captain heard I was wandering the ship and sent a member of the crew to invite me up to the bridge to take a proper look around. I had been so terrified my first visit that I had noticed nothing about it, now that I was sure I was welcome I soaked it all in. The instruments, the radios, the sweeping windows, far more spectacular then the ones in the mess hall. The officers meandered, specialists in their arts, deciding where we were, speaking into the radio, keeping watch out of the windows. They spoke in a different language, though I recognized the words, they spoke of wind, lift and pressure in acronyms and numbers. I have been thinking about my bafflement ever since and now I have a new concern, when I truly understand my new environment will other people still be able to understand what I write? I cannot write about it because I don't understand it but when I understand will others know what I am speaking of or will I take on all of the feeling and passion of a mechanics manual. If that is what happens I doubt I will keep my job for long,
I am starting to like this life I must admit, now that I get to know it. Everyone is kind to me, which I didn't expect and the food is better then what civilians normally get in rations. I am even getting used to wearing a uniform, though I still haven't learned how to keep mine as neat as the members of the crew keep theirs. So for I have seen nothing to look out for, and I intend to write my father and tell him that. His love of the sea gets in the way of him accepting new technology. I think I will also mention that he knows the captain of the dirigible, maybe that will make him feel better.
I am writing this now because we are in the middle of a storm. The captain said he saw it coming and he tried to get us above it but it was no use, the storm is higher then we can go and we are being rocked on all sides by the wind and rain. I had become comfortable in the safety of this ship, and forgotten how much at the mercy of nature we are, when the wind decides to go against us we have a lot of difficulty fighting it, and sometimes we can't. This is one of those times, I think that we have been blown far from where the captain wants to be from the look on his face. He hasn't slept all night just trying to keep us in the air, though of course none of us have gotten much sleep with us cast on the elements like we are. Even if the enemy never sees us we might never make it. All of the original fears I had about this business have turned out well founded.
I'm lucky that my letter to my father is still in the mail room. Once this storm is over I am going to go and ask for it back, I don't want to sound like an idiot and I am sure that he knows all too well how these things really work. If he got my letter he would just think I was an idiot and he would be right. I was an idiot for forgetting the nature of my new assignment. I will try not to fall into that sense of complacency again.
To be continued...
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