Small Ship, Big War - The Voyages of the Hibiki

[Capt. Harlock]

Captain Ishii dies of stomach cancer in 1976

Apparently the ulcer was a precursor of something more serious.

Bravo again for a heart-warming epilogue.

[Cuttlefish]

ORIGINAL: Onime No Kyo

I must say, young Ogata has some sizable cajones. [:D] Is there something in the author's own experience at picking up girls at work here? I wonder. [;)]

The author, who recently marked his 25th wedding anniversary and whose wife has been known to read "Small Ship," stoutly denies anything of the sort. I will say, though, that there are certain aspects to this particular entry that are drawn from personal experience.

[Cuttlefish]

October, 1955: Yokohama, Japan

JDS Hibiki, DD-23, looks much different than the worn and battered destroyer that surrendered to the Allies more than ten years ago. The newly re-commissioned ship gleams with new fittings and fresh paint. Her basic hull configuration is the same but much of her equipment is brand-new.

The Americans have been generous with their technology and expertise. It is not entirely altruism: as tensions with the Soviet Union have increased it has become obvious that a Japanese navy with significant anti-submarine warfare capabilities is in America’s best interests.

The Raytheon-manufactured radar makes her old equipment look as though it was made of stone knives and bearskins. The hull-mounted sonar is even better and both its passive and active capabilities would have astounded the old crew. Gone are the reviled 25mm AA guns; in their place are radar-guided 40mm mounts. She still has 5” guns fore and aft, and her lethal torpedo tubes, but there is little doubt that her main purpose is to hunt and kill enemy submarines.

The Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force is made up of a few modernized Japanese destroyers and patrol craft left over from the war and a number of surplus American destroyers and destroyer escorts. In a few years Japan’s shipbuilding capabilities will have recovered to the point where domestic warship production can resume but for now it is still very much a makeshift force. That it exists at all, however, is rather remarkable.

Much of the ship’s new complement is already aboard. On the quarter-deck Ensign Sato, the officer of the deck, and Lieutenant Nakamura, the executive officer, are discussing the pending arrival of the new captain.

“He’s young,” Nakamura says. “Fought in the war but started as an enlisted man. Other than that I don’t know much about him.”

“I think we will know more soon, sir,” says Sato. “Look there.” He points down along the pier to where a small car has just stopped. A tall man in an officer’s uniform unfolds from the passenger seat and goes around to the trunk, where he retrieves a battered sea bag. An almost equally tall woman, dressed in Western style, gets out of the driver’s seat. Two children, a boy and a girl, get out of the back. They all bid farewells to the tall man, who soon comes striding down the pier towards the gangway.

Sato quickly passes the word that the new captain is coming aboard and for everyone to look sharp. The captain’s long strides quickly bring him up on deck. Both waiting officers salute and the salute is returned crisply.

“Permission to come aboard,” says the captain.

“Permission granted, sir,” says Sato. “I am Ensign Sato, sir. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you,” says the captain. He turns to Nakamura. “Lieutenant Nakamura?”

“Yes sir,” says Nakamura. “Welcome aboard.” The captain nods. He has a pleasant, open face, notes Nakamura, but his eyes are sharp and carry a glint of command even while he is relaxed. His hair is just starting to gray a little at the temples. While it is impossible to tell from first appearances Nakamura is a bit relieved. His new commander looks young, yes, but he projects an air of intelligence and confidence.

The captain puts down his sea bag and looks around the ship, a curious expression on his face. Nakamura gets the impression that he is seeing something more than just the ship; ghosts of memory seem to crowd around the young officer. The captain shakes them off after a moment and turns to Nakamura.

“Shall we begin with a tour of the ship, Exec?” he says.

“Certainly, Captain,” says Nakamura. “Ensign Sato, have someone see to the Captain’s bag.”

“Yes sir.”

Lieutenant Commander Takahashi follows Nakamura along the deck to begin the inspection of his new command.

---

Hibiki remains in commission until 1973. The destroyer, by then forty years old, is scheduled to be scrapped but several prominent citizens begin a successful campaign to save the famous old ship. This success is a remarkable accomplishment in a nation that by and large turns a blind eye towards the time that they know as the Great Pacific War.

In fact Hibiki remains afloat to this day, the only surviving Japanese ship from World War II. She is a museum ship now, berthed at Yokohama. Stop by and visit her if you are in the area; admission is only $15 American. If the ship is quiet, as it often is, you might almost think that you can hear the far-away rattle of an anchor chain, the roar of gunfire, or a voice barking commands. Not ghosts, perhaps, just echoes. Echoes of the men who served her so well, so long ago.

[SireChaos]

Beautiful.
 
The woman must be Sayumi; it is good to see she is well. I have to admit I was getting a bit worried that she might not survive the war; some writers would have felt obliged to throw in another bit of personal tragedy near the end of the story.

[princep01]

ORIGINAL: Onime No Kyo

Holy Moses! I'm glad to see Riku has finally made something of himself. By our standards at least. I wonder what Shun thinks of his son-in-law traipsing around the world dressed like a penguin. [:D]

Heehee. I suspect the vernable sailor does not mind terribly as he is quite busy doing what grandparents excel at.....spoiling the grandchildren. And quietly, as is his specialty, I suspect he is both amazed and greatly satisfied that his son-in-law travels the world for his nation, talking to the common man and rubbing shoulders with kings.

[Lt. Sovereign]

First of all, a confession: I never played WITP. I was linked here by someone who read this AAR, and this is my first post in these forums. I am not sure if I'll ever play the game, either, because it looks mindboggingly huge.

Cuttlefish, it just took me about a week of reading instead of sleeping at night to read this thing from start to finish. It was an amazing ride along with the Hibiki and your standard of writing has developed to an amazing level. I have never read a better written AAR or any other form of fan fiction, and I dare say that it is one of the best works I have read in my life.

While the combat was very well written, it was the character interactions and development that really sucked me into reading. You've captured the feelings of men in combat and danger very, very well, and although my own combat experience (In the modern style of "Low-Intensity-Conflict") cannot hope to hold a candle (or even half-a-match) to WWII (Or even an alternate history of the great conflict) your writing has had me reliving many of the memories of my service (And I wasn't even in the Navy, being the PBI that I am !).

From moments of pride like promotions, to the terror moments between the many boring days, the longing for home and the responsibility of having lives in your hands, you've done the questionable experience of warfare justice on more than one level and managed to touch a cord that links, I suspect, every single man who has ever held a spear, a sword or a rifle in the service of a goal greater than himself and had to actually use their weapon in anger.

My hat is off to you, sir, and I am looking forward to whatever it will be that you write next.

[Cuttlefish]

ORIGINAL: Lt. Sovereign

First of all, a confession: I never played WITP. I was linked here by someone who read this AAR, and this is my first post in these forums. I am not sure if I'll ever play the game, either, because it looks mindboggingly huge.

Cuttlefish, it just took me about a week of reading instead of sleeping at night to read this thing from start to finish. It was an amazing ride along with the Hibiki and your standard of writing has developed to an amazing level. I have never read a better written AAR or any other form of fan fiction, and I dare say that it is one of the best works I have read in my life.

While the combat was very well written, it was the character interactions and development that really sucked me into reading. You've captured the feelings of men in combat and danger very, very well, and although my own combat experience (In the modern style of "Low-Intensity-Conflict") cannot hope to hold a candle (or even half-a-match) to WWII (Or even an alternate history of the great conflict) your writing has had me reliving many of the memories of my service (And I wasn't even in the Navy, being the PBI that I am !).

From moments of pride like promotions, to the terror moments between the many boring days, the longing for home and the responsibility of having lives in your hands, you've done the questionable experience of warfare justice on more than one level and managed to touch a cord that links, I suspect, every single man who has ever held a spear, a sword or a rifle in the service of a goal greater than himself and had to actually use their weapon in anger.

My hat is off to you, sir, and I am looking forward to whatever it will be that you write next.

This comment means a lot to me because what you talk about is exactly what I tried to convey with this AAR. I really can't say anything else in reply except thank you for taking the time to register and post it.

[Cuttlefish]

Present day: Tendo, Japan

The old man opens the box and takes out a stack of old black and white photographs. Slowly he looks through them. Each one conjures forth memories. They are good memories and bad but all of them speak of the people and events that helped shape him into the man he became.

---

It is perhaps a little ironic that it falls to Shiro Kuramata, one of the most quiet and gentle of Hibiki’s crew, to keep alive the deeds that many were willing, even eager, to forget.

His book about his time aboard Hibiki, published in Japan in 1958, is a popular and critical success. It does even better in America when published there a couple of years later. The book, in fact, turns out to be the single biggest reason Hibiki herself ends up as a museum ship instead of scrap.

Not long after the book appears in America Shiro receives a letter from one Ralph Bethke of Wichita, Kansas. Bethke, it turns out, is the man who threw the bottle in the ocean (from the deck of his ship, La Valette) that Hibiki picked up off New Caledonia in 1943, the contents of which got poor Yoshitake into so much trouble. Shiro writes back and puts him in touch with Yoshitake, now a machinist at a factory in Nagoya that produces agricultural equipment. Bethke and Yoshitake begin a correspondence that lasts 23 years, until Bethke’s death in an automobile accident.

After Bethke’s death Shiro edits their letters and publishes them as his second book. It is very well reviewed but a commercial disappointment. This does not bother Shiro.

He continues to live quietly in Tendo, making beautiful furniture and setting up occasional reunions with his former shipmates. Not long after the war his parents finally arranged a marriage for him, one that turned out well. It is a quiet life, a good life, and Shiro is content.

Ever the observer, he watches the world change around him. He sees his own grandchildren’s fascination with all things American. It occurs to him that they, and their children, have more in common with Americans of their day than they do with Japanese of Shiro’s generation. Some of them are even unaware that Japan and America once fought a great war and cannot understand the why of it even when they learn.

His former shipmates rarely talk with others about the war. Only when they are together, alone, do the memories come pouring out. It is not just that no one else wants to hear about it; these memories are private things. No one else, they feel, is really qualified to understand.

Shiro keeps track of them all. Lieutenant Miharu returns to the academic life after the war and spends some time as a guest lecturer at Georgetown University, teaching both Japanese and international law. His tales of American college life in the late 1960s are fascinating, amusing, and occasionally hair-raising.

Shoji, to the astonishment of almost everyone, becomes a Shinto priest. Shun returns to Okinawa and rebuilds the family home, enlarging it to accommodate the growing clan of which he becomes the gruff but beloved patriarch. The change in the man surprises many of those who once lived in terror of him. A few, however, understand; Shun has always loved and taken care of his family the best way he knew how, even when that family was two hundred men. Yet with the birth of his grandchildren the volcanic undercurrent of rage that lurked below the surface seems to finally subside.

Lieutenant Sugiyura goes into construction and is reasonably successful; he dies in 1957 when a modest earthquake causes a half-completed building to collapse on him. Lieutenant Kuwaki goes to work for a young automotive engineer named Soichiro Honda and ends up doing rather well. By the time he finally retires, in fact, he is the wealthiest of all of Hibiki’s former crew except for Riku. Ensign Izu opens a successful import business and becomes a noted amateur ornithologist.

---

The old man puts the pictures away. He remembers all of them, Taiki, Riku, Shun, Captain Ishii, the others. No one else remembers and few enough care, but he does. Time has accounted for most of his old mates by now. The last reunion of the crew was five years ago, and there were few enough of them then. There are fewer now. But as he has grown old the war seems to be coming closer for him again. He has always dreamed of it, and not all of them are good dreams. Now sometimes even when awake he imagines himself back on Hibiki’s pitching deck, hearing the roar of guns and the angry buzzing of airplane engines.

But today is one of the good days. He thinks maybe he will go into his workshop and putter around for a while. His hands still retain a bit of their old skill, though he tires easily. Later he will sit in the garden for a bit.

He closes the lid of the box and shuffles out the room.

[Cuttlefish]

And with that the story really is at an end. I will still be happy to answer questions and comments, of course. Before too long I’ll start a new “story-type” AAR on the AE forum, exact format still unknown. Thank you all once again for reading.

[vettim89]

Why am I so sad?

[whippleofd]

Note: Captain Ishii dies of stomach cancer in 1976, at age 76, at his home in Japan. Among the mourners at his funeral service are Jerry and Sachiko Ogata and their son, Ishii’s first great-grandchild.

Probably a similiar reason to me when I was sad reading the above.

Whipple

[whippleofd]

ORIGINAL: Cuttlefish

And with that the story really is at an end. I will still be happy to answer questions and comments, of course. Before too long I’ll start a new “story-type” AAR on the AE forum, exact format still unknown. Thank you all once again for reading.

I hope your opponent can/will chime in at least once. He won the game; but in the history of the future, when the roll call of characters is read concerning this AAR, it's my bet his name will not be included. That would be a major shame I believe for him to be left out.

Whipple

[Onime No Kyo]

Absolutely magnificent conclusion, CF.

Now that the story is officially done, I wanted to voice a point that has been brewing in my mind for a while now. I feel that the caliber and success of your writing, CF, is in large part a function of your human qualities. Many people can write, quite a few have a very good way with words, but only a few can create a story and characters that are capable of getting to the very soul of a reader, make him feel what they feel, give him the ability to live vicariously through them. That sort of talent requires more than a large vocabulary. It requires being able to think and feel in a way that few people can. Judging by the success of your story and the throngs of followers it has assembled, I would say that your human qualities, your ability to write from your heart and your soul to the hearts and souls of your readers, is quite extraordinary. My deepest respect to you, CF. [&o]

Now, the only question I have is how well did Taiki's brother learn to cope with his altered state?

[Kiith]

Like a few others I feel a little sad that this story has finally come to an end. I'll be a keen reader when your next ship based AAR comes up in AE. Finally I for one am glad that we got the Hibiki story here and not in your current AE game.

[Capt. Harlock]

And with that the story really is at an end.

Sugoi.

[Menser]

All good things ......

I want to thank you for the many hours of enjoyment you (and Wolff) have given us all CF. I've been following this little epic from the begining and watching your storytelling dramatically improve, entry by entry. The amount of research and how well you have read you're audience astounds me. I bet you did not realize when you started what a labor of love this turned out to be for you (and us). You my friend have turned yourself into a master storyteller. If we were all in the same room now, you would recieve a standing ovation from all of us present.

“Six billion of us walking the planet, six billion smaller worlds on the bigger one. Shoe salesmen and short-order cooks who look boring from the outside - some have weirder lives than you. Six billion stories, every one an epic, full of tragedy and triumph, good and evil, despair and hope. You and me - we aren't so special, bro.” Dean Koontz

[veji1]

brrr. Shivers down my spine.. Great great great read Cuttlefish... I haven't played WITP for 3 years now (since i've been married basically) and your AAR was one of the main reasons I kept coming back...

[kaleun]

Outstandig, outstanding, outstanding!

[flaggelant]

    

[Ambassador]

Outstanding indeed. Congratulations for your whole game and story, and thank you a thousand times.[&o]

ORIGINAL: Cuttlefish

No one else remembers and few enough care, but he does.

I had to shed a tear more than once while reading the various epilogue chapters, but by this point I could not read anymore. If that was the effect sought, you could teach many a self-proclaimed author some writing lessons.[;)]