“Do you think it’s just another drill, ma’am?”
“They said it’s not a drill. So it must not be a drill.”
“But we’ve been at Battle Stations for almost four and a half hours. You’d think that if this was for real, something would’ve happened by now.”
“Listen, sailor, you know what they say, ‘The Navy isn’t paying you to think. They’re paying you to target those missiles, and to push the buttons that fire them at those targets when I give you the order to do so.’ So stay sharp. This war could easily start tonight. If it does we have a job to do, and by God we’re going to do our job better than any other ship out here tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Just then the latches on the hatch leading from the bridge to the missile control room began to move into the open position. The hatch swung out, and in stepped the captain of the U.S.S. Brice, a guided missile cruiser on station to do its duty for their country.
“Attention on deck!”
“As you were,” the captain said to the officers and crew gathered there. “Commander, I need to talk to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Some place private,” the Captain added.
“We can use the computer room,” said Commander Dean as she led the way into the adjoining room. “Walton, Compton, step out for a moment,” she said to the two men assigned to this area. “But don’t go anywhere, we may need you back in here fast if orders come down from above.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the two sailors answered their missile control officer as they exited the computer room and closed the hatch behind them.
“Are you okay, sir?” Commander Dean asked her captain. “You look like you’ve already lived through this war we are about to begin.”
“I wish I could assure you that I was okay, but I’m exhausted and this looks like its going to be a very long night.”
“The nightmares again?” she asked.
“Yes, every night it’s the same thing. I wake up at 0300 (3:00 am). with the cold sweats. Then I remember what I’ve been dreaming about – our missiles hitting a civilian city instead of our target. I see civilians dying, women, children, old people. Buildings are falling down on them and flames are everywhere. And the screams, they are so real I could swear I was right there with them. And after seeing that I can’t go back to sleep, and just toss and turn in my bunk.”
“Can’t Doc give you something to help you sleep through the night?”
“Are you kidding! I am the commanding officer of a guided missile cruiser, one of the deadliest weapon systems ever to appear on the face of this planet. We are on the eve of a war in which we will fire the first shots, and you want me to take sleeping pills!
“I’m sorry. I know better.”
“Look, I’m telling you this, because…. Because if I give any order that sounds really stupid to you, I’m giving you permission to check me on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I give you an order and it doesn’t sound right to you. You have permission to double check with me before you carry it out. Now I’m not giving you permission to disobey or question my orders! Just know that you can ask me if what you thought you heard is correct.”
“You really are shook, aren’t you?”
“Commander, with the deadly force we have in those missile launchers, we can’t afford to make mistakes. Not even a small mistake. Too many people can die because of something we do wrong.”
“I’ll pay very close attention, sir, to everything you say.”
“Thank you. I’ve asked the XO (The executive officer, second in command to the Captain, is often called the XO in the Navy) to do the same thing. The two of you are my fail-safe system.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And whatever you do, do not repeat a word of this conversation to anyone else on this ship. I’m taking a great risk just sharing this with you and the XO. I cannot have my officers and men doubting their captain’s orders in the middle of a war.”
“I understand, sir. This conversation does not leave this room.”
“Very well, Commander. Now carry on.”
Just then someone began knocking on the hatch to the computer room. Commander Dean swung the heavy door open. A panting seaman from the ship’s radio shack stood there.
“I have an urgent message for the Captain, ma’am.”
Captain Caldwell stepped forward and took the message from the seaman. He stood there reading it to himself. Then he looked up at Commander Dean and said, “Get your people ready, this war is about to begin.”
“Yes, sir!” the Commander replied.
“I’ll be on the bridge,” the Captain said as he exited the missile control center.
“Walton, Compton, get back to your posts,” the Commander ordered. Then turning to the other men and women stationed around the missile control room, she said, “Wake up, and look sharp. We have orders. Some bad guys are going to die tonight!”
“It’s about time!” a few sailors replied.
Every man and woman on the U.S.S. Brice stood more than ready to carry out the orders that they had spent so many months training and preparing for. But it would not happen fast. First they spent another two and a half hours at their battle stations waiting, and praying, and waiting.
Finally, at precisely 0250 (2:50 am) local time, the Captain’s voice was heard over the ship’s intercom. “This is your Captain speaking. In ten minutes I will be giving the order to fire our missiles at an enemy of the United States of America – an enemy of the people who are back home waiting for us to get this job done. This is what we have trained for, people. Stay sharp. Get it right. And we’ll all go home safely to our families. That is all.”
“Alright, you heard the Captain,” Commander Dean snapped, “Be sharp now. Remember what we’ve been practicing so hard for the last four months. And, if you’re the praying sort, this would be a good time to be doing it. If not, this would be a good time to start.”
A little nervous chatter and a lot of silence filled the minutes waiting on the Captain’s orders. A lot of prayers were going up, not only from the U.S.S. Brice, but also from the many other forces on the sea, in the air and on the land.
Commander Dean was in the middle of saying her own prayers, when suddenly the expression on her face changed. She turned to the officer beside her, and said, “Lieutenant Caldwell, I have to go to the bridge to see the captain. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
“Now?” the lieutenant shot back in total surprise. Commander Dean had never left the missile control room in the middle of a firing exercise, and this was the real thing. He was shocked, and so were the other men and women who watched the commander hurriedly close the hatch behind her.
She raced to the bridge. As soon as the captain saw her he barked, “What are you doing here, Commander?”
“Sir, something’s wrong! I was praying, and suddenly this terrible feeling came over me. Sir, we can’t fire our missiles!”
“Commander, you’d better pull yourself together! We are going to fire those missiles,” he looked at his watch, “in exactly five minutes and twenty seconds! Now get back to your station and do your job!”
“Sir, something is wrong. I don’t know what, but I know that we cannot fire those missiles.”
“Commander, get back to your station and do your job. That’s an order!”
“Captain, I can’t do it! I wish I could, but I can’t!”
“Commander Ice,” the Captain said to his XO, “Commander Dean is relieved of duty. Go to the missile control room, and assume her duties there.”
“Yes, sir,” the XO replied. He took three steps toward the hatch that lead to the missile control room, and stopped dead in his tracks. “Captain, I can’t.”
“What?” the Captain screamed, his face turning beet-red. “What do you mean you can’t? Do I have to relieve you too?”
“He won’t let me, sir!”
“Who won’t let you?” the Captain screamed again.
“Him,” Commander Ice answered and pointed to the hatch that he needed to go through. “Jesus won’t let me, sir.”
“Has everybody on this ship gone crazy? The Captain screamed even louder.
“Don’t you see him, sir? He’s standing right there just as plain as day, right there in front of the hatch. Please tell me you see him, sir.”
“Commander, the only thing I see is that you are about to be relieved of duty too! I also see lots of court marshals coming up!”
“Sir, your nightmares,” Commander Dean said. “They always happened at 0300[4], right? Sir, we are about to fire our missiles at 0300!”
“Are you still here, Commander? I relieved you of duty! Go to your quarters!”
“Sir, remember your nightmares! They were about innocent people dying, and they were always at 0300! Don’t you see it, sir? I pray, and I get this terrible feeling that something is very wrong with our missiles. Commander Ice relieves me, and he sees Jesus refusing to let him go to the missile control room to fire the missiles at 0300! Captain, someone is trying to tell us something!”
"Excuse me, sirs and ma’am,” the bridge radioman said very hesitantly. “I’m really sorry to interrupt you, but Petty Officer Walton is on the phone, and he insists on talking to Commander Dean right now. He says it is an emergency and he must talk to her immediately, before we fire our missiles.”
“I’ll take that,” the Captain said as he grabbed the phone from the radioman. “This is the Captain, and this had better be important, Walton!”
“Yes, sir Captain. This is important, sir. I’ve been reading software code for the last several hours, sir. Commander Dean can tell you I do that to settle my nerves. I don’t know why, but reading software code is just very relaxing for me.”
“Walton, get to the point!”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Sir, there is a huge mistake in the code that aims our missiles.”
“What?”
“I don’t know when it happened, sir, but someone wrote a huge mistake into the software code that aims our missiles. It might have been downloaded with that last upgrade they did on us a few weeks ago.”
“Walton, what are you talking about?”
“Well, sir, it’s kind of complicated. But put simply, the code has switched longitude and latitude, sir. When we enter the longitude to aim our missiles, the code tells the missile that our entry is the latitude. And when we enter the latitude, the code tells the missile that the entry is the longitude.”
“You mean that our missiles are aimed at the wrong place?”
“That’s kind of the way it is, sir. If we fire our missiles, there is no way we can hit the target. I can correct this in about two minutes, sir, but I really should check the rest of the aiming code too. Usually when there is a snafu in one string of code, then other strings are messed up too. But checking all of it would take days, sir.”
“Start checking it, Walton – all of it. But don’t make any changes. Fleet Command will have to see this to believe it, and even then they may not believe it.”
“Sir,” Commander Ice interrupted, “Fleet Command is on the radio. They’ve cancelled our firing orders. Our targets have been reassigned to the Air Force. Sir, they want to know why we didn’t fire as ordered.”
“Well, it’s going to hit the fan now,” the Captain replied. “How are we ever going to explain this to Fleet Command?”
“How about the truth, sir?” Commander Dean volunteered. “You had warnings through your nightmares. I had a bad feeling from my prayers that we were making a mistake. And Commander Ice saw Jesus. Sir, God saved us from something that would have haunted us the rest of our lives, and a lot of people are going to wake up this morning that would not have otherwise. I can’t be certain without first looking at the charts, but I’m pretty sure that switching our targeting latitude and longitude would have put our missiles somewhere in Europe. And I don’t think that Fleet Command wants us to be blowing up any European cities.”
“Commander Dean is right, Captain,” Commander Ice added. “Those missiles would have ended up somewhere in Europe.”
“Want to quote scripture to Fleet Command, Captain? ‘…I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.’ That pretty much sums up our situation, doesn’t it?”
“Fleet Command is not ready to hear what I’m going to tell them, much less listen to me quote scripture” the Captain said as he started toward the radio shack.
“Captain,” Commander Dean called after him.
The Captain stopped and turned to face his officers.
“God was here tonight. You know that don’t you, sir?” Commander Dean said.
“O, yes. I know that,” the Captain answered.
“God guided us tonight, and God will guide us when Fleet Command hauls us in to interrogate us about what happened here,” Commander Dean added.
“Commander, I’m counting on that,” the Captain responded. He started to turn away, and then had another thought. “And, Commander, get down to missile control and do everything you can to help Walton and Compton find any other mistakes in the software code that controls our missiles. This ship is not firing anything until that code is perfected.”
“Yes, sir!” Commander Dean responded with a smile and a salute.
Questions for Meditation, Discussion or Preaching
Copyright 2020. Robert D. Ingram, 32746 Jourden Rd., Albany, Ohio 45710 (dr.bobingram@gmail.com). Used by permission.
