My Grandfather's Profound Reflections

I walked into the study and paused to take it all in. Looking around, I remembered growing up and entering this room countless times. My grandfather would usually be sitting at the desk, reading a book. Those books were often tales of sea adventures. He would have me sit in the chair on the other side of the desk and read some of the adventures to me. I loved listening to him because he read the story to me, acting out the different characters with various voices. It made me smile and laugh, which in turn encouraged him to do even more.

I sat down at the desk and looked around the room. This was my grandfather's favorite space in the house. He spent several decades collecting antiques and knick-knacks, all decorated in a nautical theme. He loved the sea. He served in the Navy and fought in the Pacific during World War II. One wall of the room was a floor-to-ceiling walnut wood bookcase filled with countless books about the sea. As time went on, I intend to read every one of the books in that bookcase.

A year ago, my grandfather passed away. In his will, I, being his only grandson, inherited his house to the surprise of everyone else in the family. I began moving in two months ago and even though I have made some changes to the house, this room will remain precisely as it is. I will never change a thing in this room. Okay, I added a laptop to the desk, but that’s it; nothing else.

More walnut shelving behind the desk where he sat held pictures from his Navy days and photos of friends and family. Several antique model ships adorned the shelves, but one in particular was my favorite, and his: a two-foot-long, 18th-century English sailing ship, exquisitely crafted with all its rigging and sails. It sat alone on the center shelf. He purchased it from an antique store in New England many decades earlier. As a young boy, I was forbidden to touch it. Even though my grandfather displayed the ship on the shelf and his desk, I was never permitted to touch it. Living in the house for two months, I still hesitated to touch it.

I remember sometimes walking in as a child, and I would see my grandfather with the ship off the shelf and sitting on his desk in front of him. He had one hand on the hull at the stern and the other on the hull at the bow, holding it tightly, deep in thought. It felt odd, but he always returned the ship to the shelf after I walked in.

***

One day, I walked into the study and sat at the desk. I was about to type on my laptop when I heard a faint whisper calling my name: "Alex." There was a pause, and then again, "Alex.” I looked around, but I saw no one else in the room. I returned to typing on the laptop when I heard it again, “Alex,” but this time, it was a bit louder, “Alex.” It sounded like it was coming from behind me. So, I stood up and turned around, glancing at the shelves. At first, I neither saw nor heard anything. Then again, I heard, "Alex.” I squinted at the sailing ship sitting on the shelf; the sound was coming from the ship. I gently picked up the ship and turned to set it down on the desk when the room began to spin. A blue mist emerged from the ship, enveloping the room in a blue haze.

When the haze cleared, I was no longer in the study. I was standing on the deck of a full-size 18th-century sailing ship. Not just any sailing, an 18th-century Navy war ship, a Carronade. A military man stood on the upper deck, barking orders, “All hands on deck, to your battle stations.” Another man was ringing the ship's bell with vigor. Men were running in all directions. I stood and watched what seemed like chaos when an officer walking by me stopped, “Just don’t stand, sailor, get to your battle station, that's an order.”

“Battle station?” I asked, completely perplexed, as to what was happening. “Have you been drinking, sailor? I can have you court-martialed for that.”

“Um…No.”

‘NO, WHAT?” He shouted at me.

“Um…no s-sir.”

“That’s better, sailor. Now get over there to the number three cannon.”

I began responding with, “Yes, Sir,” when I heard cannon fire in the distance, followed by several near misses in the water just off the ship's side.

I ran to the number three cannon and noticed an older man loading a cannonball into the barrel. “Grandpa?”

“Where have you been, kiddos? You're late.”

There was another burst of cannon fire in the distance, followed by several water splashes, but one cannonball found its mark, hitting the ship's bow. The men around me hardly flinched and kept working. The military man standing on the upper deck shouted, “FIRE!” Several cannons on my side of the ship all went off at once. My grandpa yelled at me, “ALEX, FIRE!”

“What?” I replied

“Ignite the fuse, Alex.”

Looking at him confused, “Ignite the fuse?”

“Grab the gunlock and ignite the cannon’s fuse right now.” He pointed at a long stick-like object beside the cannon.

Several more cannons on both sides of me fired again. I picked up the gunlock and held the slow-match to the cannon's fuse. There was a brief delay, and then the cannon fired. The air filled with black and gray smoke and smelled strongly of gunpowder. More distant cannon fire produced splashes around our ship, and one cannonball struck a small section on the top of one of the masts, breaking off a small piece that fell to the deck, just missing me by a foot.

We were loading and firing as fast as we could. Return fire seemed to slow down. Our firing was affecting the enemy ships. An enormous cheer went up from the crew around me. I looked out across the water and saw why. One of the enemy ships was exploding and on fire. I heard my grandpa yell out.

“We must have hit their powder keg.”

We were not done yet; there were still two more enemy ships to contend with. The man on the upper deck was yelling out more orders. “Helmsmen, bring the ship around. We need to get broadside to them.”

“Grandpa, what are we doing here?

“Now you know why I would never let you touch the ship when you were a child. I didn’t want you to get thrust into this situation, but now you're old enough. Isn’t this exciting?”

***

The other two enemy ships were also maneuvering to be in a better position to fire on us. When one of the enemy ships was in what they thought was a good position, it opened fire on us with a full volley of cannon shots. But the shots went over us, landing on the other side in the water. Our ship was almost in position about twenty-five yards out from the enemy ship's side.

“FIRE!” was shouted.

We all lit the fuses on our cannons, but so did the enemy about the same time. The large clouds of black and gray smoke filled the air in both directions. The stench of gunpowder was thick in the air. Several of the enemy’s shots hit their mark, slicing into the side of our ship. I was thrown to the deck; my ears were ringing. I looked over and saw my grandpa also lying on the deck. I crawled over to him. To my right, three more cannons that were not damaged were fired, sending more shots into the enemy's side.

“Grandpa, are you alright?” Rolling him over on his back.

“I am afraid this is it for me, Alex.”

I looked down and he had a large piece of timber in his stomach area, and blood pooling around him.

“It's going to be ok, Grandpa, I’m going to get you out of here.”

“No, Alex, this is my last fight. It is now your time to take over the helm.”

Sitting beside him, the remaining crew suddenly gave a loud cheer; I stood up. The enemy ship was sinking. The remaining enemy ship had set sail away from us, trying to put distance between us and it as fast as she could.

Our ship was damaged but still seaworthy. I sat back down next to my grandpa. “Grandpa, we did it. The other ship is sinking and the last one is sailing away.” But it was too late, he was gone.

One of the officers came up to me and knelt. “Your grandpa was a good man. He fought in many battles alongside us. He will receive a proper burial at sea with full honors, just as he would have wanted.”

The officer stood up and helped me to my feet, “Alex, you fought well. You have survived to fight again. We will see you soon.”

“How do you all know my name?”

“We have all watched you grow up, of course. Welcome aboard.”

***

Sitting at the desk with the sailing ship model in front of me, I had one hand on the stern and the other on the bow, exiting the deep thoughts. I stood up and placed the sailing ship back on the shelf. I brushed off my shirt; it smelled like smoke and gunpowder.