"Do you think he’ll be all right doctor?" Sergeant McMillain, what was he doing here?
I forced myself to open my eyes. I looked around. A white room filled with beds, each holding a person. A hospital.
"Sergeant McMillain, what are you here for?" I managed to croak out.
My throat was incredibly dry. A young nurse came over and poured a strong, awful tasting liquid down my throat. "Thank you."
The sergeant walked over and sat down beside my bed.
"I came to see if you were okay, Peter." He smiled stiffly. It was the first time he had called me by my first name. It was kind of strange. I was so used to that gruff voice barking out, ‘Craig, get down here now! Craig, tuck in your stomach, stick out your chest!’ I was so used to those dark eyes flashing with annoyance at me. But know he was smiling. I hate to admit it, but smiling improved his face immensely. His brown eyes sparkled as his dark hair fell out of place into them. He didn’t look half as terrifying, sitting down. There was no six and a half-foot giant towering over you. I don’t want to admit it, but he looked almost nice.
"That was good of you. What happened to me?" I asked.
"You don’t remember?!" He looked at me, astonished.
"Yes, yes, yes, I do. I meant, what shape am I in?" I replied.
"Oh, of course. You broke your arm and bruised a bone in your head. I think you’ll be fine, but you may not have complete use of your arm, ever again." He paused. "We can’t let you back in until we’re sure you are all right. You are allowed to go home for a year."
"A year!" I exclaimed sitting bolt upright in bed, then fell back down as pain ripped through my head.
"Yes, a year. We have to be sure you are one hundred percent before we let you back in. Now try to get some rest. I’ll send some of the troop over tomorrow to see if they can cheer you up."
"Thank you, serge." I tried to lift my arm to salute, but it wouldn’t budge. "Good-bye!" I said instead.
Sergeant McMillain left.
‘Well, at least I’ll get to see the Kings and Andrew.’ Peter thought. ‘We’ll help each other cure our injuries.’
A doctor came in and started tending to the other patients in the room. I drifted off to sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *I was walking down the pier in Halifax Harbour.
"Pete!" I turned. Only my friend, Morgan called me that.
"Hi Morgan! I was wondering when you’d get up. Come help me with these ropes." Morgan laughed.
"Okay Pete. I didn’t sleep in that late did I?"
Morgan Pettibone and I were both in the Navy. We were staying in Halifax, waiting for a boat to sail on. We finished tying the rope and headed for the mess hall for breakfast.
We sat down at our table. Sergeant McMillain was scowling at us.
"Craig, Pettibone, you’re late!"
"Sorry sir," I sat down. Morgan did the same.
A typical day. Everything was the same. Even breakfast.
"Porridge again?" Morgan complained. "We’ve had porridge every day this week!" Yes, everything was the same. Little did I know that one event, that took place today, would change our lives forever.
After breakfast we went back to our dormitories.
* * * * * * * * * *We started to clean up the dorm, then serge burst in. "Craig, get down to the docks and meet up with the captain of the Mont Blanc. Tell him we will be on his escort ship. He’s due into port in half an hour."
"Sir!" I saluted, then ran out the door. We were going! Yippie! We weren’t stuck here anymore!
I was walking down the ‘Narrows’ on the Dartmouth side when I noticed two ships signalling each other very near me. I read the names on the side of the ships. The Imo and the Mont Blanc. The Mont Blanc! The ship we were going to escort! I sat down on a rock and tried to figure out what they were saying.
* * * * * * * * * *The Mont Blanc was saying that she was in the correct channel. The Imo said in would move further port, into the Mont Blanc’s channel. The Mont Blanc signalled that she would pass to starboard. The Imo signalled that she would maintain her course.
* * * * * * * * * *‘Good!’ I thought. They’re fine. I congratulated on my signal reading and continued on to the pier. The sound of motors caused me to look back at the two ships. They were on a collision course! The Imo’s bow was swinging right, into the Mont Blanc! I ran toward the harbour, in the hopes of finding help for the crews of the ships. The Fire Department was coming. I could hear the sirens wailing. Crowds of people were standing by the water trying to see what was happening. The crew of the Mont Blanc had taken to the lifeboats. They were shouting something, but I couldn’t hear them over the noise. The Mont Blanc was drifting towards the pier. It struck it. There was a white flash. I lifted my right arm to shield my eyes. I was thrown backwards into a building. Explosives. That was the Mont Blanc’s cargo.
* * * * * * * * * *I don’t know how long I was unconscious for, but I finally woke up when the pain in my arm became almost unbearable. I opened my eyes. The Imo and the Mont Blanc had disappeared. So had Halifax. I shook my head in disbelief. Could a ship that size really have carried that many explosives, to do this? In the silence, I realised that I was alone. I had to go find help. I somehow managed to get up, sort of.
I crawled along, then I heard something, no someone, crying for help. Whoever it was, was underneath the rubble. Maybe it wasn’t just one person, but a whole lot of people. I started to dig, with my left arm. I must have broken my right one because I couldn’t use it. Finally I found the person--a young man with blondish brown hair and a childish face.
"Morgan!" I exclaimed. "Please say you’re all right! Say you’ll be all right!" He turned his head and smiled weakly at me.
"I’ve reached the end of my rope, Pete. I’m done for. Promise me this. Promise that you’ll help my family, especially Izzy, through my death. Promise that we’ll win this war, and," his voice breaking. "Promise that you won't forget me."
"Morgan, don’t say things like that! I’ll get help! You’ll be okay!" I was in tears.
"Pete, it’s no use. Just promise me!"
"I…I promise." I bowed my head.
"Thank you. Good-bye Pete!" He closed his eyes, never to open them again.
"Good-bye Morgan," I whispered into the wind. I buried his body and stood up. "I will not break my promise Morgan!" I yelled. With a purpose, I ran towards camp. Maybe they weren’t dead. Maybe they could help.
As I got farther from the site of the explosion, the cries became louder. Maybe not all of Halifax was gone. I got to the camp. There was nothing there, except people. The troop.
"Sergeant McMillain! I heard someone call. Peter’s back." The serge came forward.
"Craig, you’re all right!"
"Yes, I am." I paused. "I witnessed it all, serge. The collision, the explosion and…and Morgan’s death."
"He’s dead?" The serge asked.
"Yes," My strength gave out then. I fainted again.
* * * * * * * * * *I woke up. Back in the hospital. I suppose I’ll be reliving that over and over, for the rest of my life, in dreams.