The Iowa Sisters #2 The Red North

Chapter 2

PACIFIC OCEAN JULY 1948 "IOWA"

I led a small task force away from Hawaii, stopping 65 miles off the coast. Usually, I loved these training exercises but this time was different.

Two large cruisers were towing an old battleship that looked so burned and blackened you would've thought she'd be dead by now. But quite the contrary. The resilient Nevada had managed to hold her own against the most powerful devise on the planet with energy to spare.

She pulled furiously against the tow lines, just to show she could still fight. "Come on, you're not gonna fight fair?" She hissed. "Nevada, will you stop it, it's not doing you any good." I begged.

"Shut it Iowa, if I'm going down, I'm going down fighting. You want to take me on?" She asked. "Normally I'd agree to that challenge but, if my readings are correct I think I'd rather keep my distance." I replied.

Although Nevada may've survived the H-bomb testing's without sinking, she did not survive completely unscathed and was highly radioactive. The men on both towing cruisers had to wear protective clothing just to be safe, and they were a quarter of a mile away from the battleship.

They dropped the tow lines and let the battleship drift in the ocean. "Ok fine, let me drift and wait for a storm to come so I can capsize." She growled. "You know we'd never do that to you Nevada." I called. "So you're going to shoot me instead?" She asked. "Yep." I replied.

"You know what happened the last time someone tried that right?" She asked. "That's why we're way out here, there's no beach for you to sit on this time Nevada." I growled. "Are you calling me a coward?" She asked. "No, I'm calling you the bravest, most resilient ship I've ever met and I don't understand why they don't make you a museum." I replied.

"Because I never could stand the concession stands and all those kids with their gum hands and they know it." She said. "I don't think I can do this, Nevada." I moaned. "You don't have a choice, blow her out of the water Iowa." My captain hissed.

"No!" I snarled. "No, I won't do this. I won't!" I fought desperately against my captains will. "Iowa, this is something that must be done. If we don't do this, Nevada's death will be long and painful. We're being merciful. Like a dog having to be put to sleep to end its suffering, that's exactly what we're doing here." He said.

I shook my head. "I can't kill her." I whispered. He patted me. "I know, neither can I. But orders are orders and we must follow them." He replied. I nodded sadly then looked up to meet Nevada's gentle gaze.

She'd controlled her way up to me. "I know how you feel Iowa, but this must be done. I'm asking you to end this." She whispered. Her eyes were dull with pain and suffering. She coughed and ignoring the safety regulations, I rubbed her side to ease it.

"Thanks." She managed. I nodded. "Get back over there so I can have a clear shot." I ordered. She dipped her head and moved back to her spot 3 miles away. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to fire. My nine 16 in guns were loaded and locked on Nevada. They were lined up perfectly with her outline. "Fire!" My captain commanded.

They all did, the ball of flame rolled up along my side while the force of the projectiles ripplified the water as they went. The force of these things when they fired literally took your breath away as they created a vacuum of air that sucked it right out of you.

I'd always had good aim and once again, my crew was not disappointed. Nevada received over half of the salvos. Not bad. But when the smoke cleared, she was still afloat. She looked a little banged up but she was in no danger of sinking.

I couldn't help but feel frustrated. "How do you do that?" I called. "How do I stay afloat?" She asked. I nodded. She shrugged. "Must be something in the genes 'cause I really don't know Iowa." She replied. I gritted my teeth together.

"Should we do it?" I asked. "I think we should." My captain replied. The plane with the aerial torpedo circled overhead, ready to drop it on my captain's signal. He gave it and the missile was dropped, hitting Nevada amidships. She went up in flames. I could hear her laughing. When the smoke cleared somewhat, she was still afloat but sinking fast.

I raced forward to her side. "Nevada." I whispered. Her eyes were open, dull and lifeless. The ghost of the last laugh still etched upon her face. She was dead.

"I bowed my head. "Goodbye my brave, valiant one." I whispered. Gently, I closed her eyes. Touching my bow to hers in a kiss of farewell, I stepped back and watched her sink below the surface. Within minutes, she had gone.

"Come on Iowa, we've done what we came here to do. We ended her suffering." My captain said. "No, not yet." I growled. Turning my guns skyward, I fired a 21 round salute to my fallen comrade.

"Farewell Nevada, you're spirit will join the most coveted ranks of the Ancients." I whispered. Very briefly, I saw her form rise up out of the water, already shimmering with starlight.

"Thank you, Iowa." She whispered and vanished. I let my captain guide me back to Pearl Harbor with my head bowed, my flags lowered to half-staff in Nevada's honor.

I continued training exercises and such for the navy until September when the post-war downsizing caught up to me.

Fortunately, I wasn't sent to the scrapyard but I was decommissioned and mothballed. So off I went to Bremerton Washington, home of the Pacific Reserve Fleet more commonly known as mothballs.

New Jersey and Wisconsin were placed in the Atlantic reserves in Norfolk Virginia. At least they had one another for company, I was stuck here by myself. "Just be glad you're not being sent to Boston." My captain growled as he prepared to disembark for the last time.

"Why aren't I being sold for scrap?" I asked. "Two reasons: a. you're far too young, b. because Missouri told Truman no." He replied. I sighed. "Now that I believe." I muttered of the second one.

My younger sister was adored by the president and as a result, she could ask him to do something and he'd do it. "Shouldn't she be taking orders from him, not the other way around?" I muttered. "Actually, it was Truman who suggested it in the first place, and Missouri agreed." He replied.

"She doesn't have to agree though." I complained. "But he wanted her to. You're her sister Iowa, she loves you and she won't see you sold for scrap if she can help it." He said.

"I don't see her being sent into reserve." I muttered. "Not her doing, that's Truman's. 'Keep her busy!' that's what he told his staff and so they are. She's on the east coast conducting training cruises for midshipman." He explained. "Humph, I kind of figured as much." I grumbled.

"Don't be so hard on her, she wants to be here but orders are orders and she has hers. For right now, she's to remain on active duty and it's a good thing that we still have an active battleship in our fleet." He scolded.

I had to agree with that logic. "Still, I can't help but feel angry at her." I said. "I understand Iowa, it's not wrong to feel that way, you have every reason to. Missouri doesn't know that she's training on Truman's orders but if she does find out, I would love to see the ranting she'll give him. She'd rather be mothballed with you than sail alone, Iowa." He said.

I sighed. "Something tells me that she's gonna do something stupid to get herself mothballed no matter what." I said.

"I know how she is. She feels alone, disconnected from her ships. It's hard enough being leader when you have that barrier but for a ship as famous as her, it's nearly impossible to blend." He explained.

"The only way she can take down that barrier is if the public is reminded of the fact that she's no different than any other ship." He said.

"Why do I get the feeling that the newspapers are going to be sold out soon?" I asked. "Because Missouri's gonna do something stupid to make them sold out." He replied.

Sure enough, two years later on January 1 1950, Missouri did her stupid act and ran herself aground off Thimble Shoals in the Chesapeake Bay.

What's more is that she did it right in front of all the admirals at the fort and everyone who entered and left the harbor could see her. The most common headline of the morning papers was "muddy mo."

Although I was worried for her safety, thinking she'd gone too far and would most certainly be scrapped, I couldn't help but laugh.

If she ever did come here after a decommissioning, I was never going to let her hear the end of it.