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{Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
This week’s prompt word is : LEAD }

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Clang,clang,clang… Alex kept pounding at the metal beams overhead, wrench taped tightly to his hand as a failsafe to exhaustion and despair, counting every second, every breath of oxygen.

Clang-clang-clang– looking around him, bathed in the red emergency light, he could see the faces of his 23 comrades, all in the fleeting safety of the Compartment IX of their nuclear submarine;  two explosions from the fore torpedo hold within seconds shifted a successful training exercise to all hell breaking loose, leaving those alive stranded at the bottom of the sea…107 meters (350 ft) of water above them measuring the distance between salvation and doom.

Clang, clang, clang… “If only the submarine was upright!’ Nikolai tried to humor the deadly situation they were in and he was right since she was 154 meters (508 ft) long; they all laughed silently in the way only  submariners can.

Alex could not feel his hand anymore but he kept pounding three dots, three dashes, three dots ^S… ^O– – – ^S… ; six hours had gone by and they thought their prayers were answered as they heard the metallic noise from the rescue vessel trying to attach to the escape hatch of Compartment IX…never made it and afterwards complete, dark, crushing silence.

Midshipman Victor had to be kept at place with force from the rest of the crew as he frantically tried to open the hatch and swim to the surface; although Alex knew it was a loosing bet, with their hopes sunk on the seabed as their submarine, he could not deny feeling an inch from doing the exact same desperate act.

Still, lead his men he must…under the woefulness of the clang-sound crying Save Our Ship, Alex started to whisper their last seafarers’ hymn¹:

“Eternal Father, strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,

Who bid’st the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep;

O hear us when we cry to Thee,

For those in peril on the sea.”

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¹: The seafarers’ hymn by William Whiting, a British writer from Winchester, England. The hymn has a long tradition in civilian maritime contexts as well, being regularly invoked by ship’s chaplains and sung during services on ocean crossings.

“Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.

O Christ, Whose voice the waters heard
And hushed their raging at Thy word,
Who walkedst on the foaming deep,
And calm amidst its rage didst sleep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.

Most Holy Spirit, Who didst brood
Upon the chaos dark and rude,
And bid its angry tumult cease,
And give, for wild confusion, peace;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!

O Trinity of love and power,
Our brethren shield in danger’s hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them wheresoe’er they go;
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee
Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.”

…—…

BY THE COMPANY OF WARRIORS I KEEP

Spira / Nick © January 2023

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