"We received V-Mail! Come look!â the 1940s version of Dolly Parton shouted. Her name was actually Eleanor but she was a wannabe country singer with a passion for doing good and a love for societal advancements. Hence why Eleanor was so against the war. Of course, we should be against the abuse and threats of one human against another, but couldnât we solve it without sending young people to fight for a war they donât know everything about?
Eleanor would rather all the soldiers be home cutting a rug with their ducky shincracker dreamboats. Among those soldiers was her uncle Edward and his best friend also named Edward. The geezers at Seamus' Pub called them Ed² and joked about how they were a couple dishes who could crack up an entire room if they felt like it. When everyone found out the boys wouldnât be part of the same submarine crew, they didnât know what to say.
Well-wishes of old-timers saying, âyou boys be careful out there. Never know whatâs lurking out in them watersâ and âEd² better not return as just Edâ because old people didnât know how to communicate their feelings back then. They still donât today.
Dolly Parton, AKA Eleanor, wasnât really sure what to say either when her uncle was getting ready to ship out. He had been like a father to her since her own father died during WWI. Ed had been too young to enlist then but her father, the âmacho-manâ before Randy Savage was even a thought, had enlisted right away to set an example of patriotic dedication for his brother.
âIâll be expecting a lot of letters from you, Uncle Edward. Even if they are a little soaked with sea salt,â Eleanor settled on. It was the way they usually communicated, jokes hiding true bonds of family.
The V-Mail Eleanor received was the last letter she would receive from Edward, though there was no way she would know. It said something along the lines of Edward missed Edward and his family but he was happy to be serving his country. He wasnât sure when he would resurface and be able to send another letter but he hoped the lyrics to a sea shanty he and the boys sang would keep them entertained until his next letter.
Edwardâs ship would sink later that week and his family would receive a very stoic telegram from the office of SecNav to tell them his crew was missing and they werenât allowed to mention this information to others. This was the nice way of saying he was probably dead but we wonât say that and make ourselves look bad. Maybe he was a POW. That was better than death, right?
Eleanor told the story of her Uncle Edward to her children and grandchildren, and they always found the way she portrayed him, a regular olâ Captain America, fascinating and heartbreaking. Fascinating because of the bravery but heartbreaking because he was never found and Ed2 never reunited.
Eleanorâs granddaughter Sharon eventually grew up to be a member of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, and while missing subs from WWII were not exactly under her purview, it was something she looked into from time to time.
To someone like Eleanor, the year 2021 seemed like it should be something out of The Jetsons. Unfortunately, the magical technology of flying cars was not a reality, meaning the magical technology of recovering her beloved uncleâs last resting place was also not a reality. Eleanor wrote country songs about her family and, more specifically, the sadness she felt for her lost uncle. She had a few records go almost-gold and they were some of Sharonâs favorite things to listen to while doing boring paperwork.
NCIS headquarters in Quantico, Virginia were located right on the water, not that Sharon ever had a chance to look at the water or experience a real day off when she constantly was called to investigate crimes. July of 2021 started off as a strange month for Sharon. Her first case that month was investigating a murder that occured right on the waterline outside Quantico. The person was determined to be Private First Class Ryan Matting. Normally this wouldnât be flagged as strange and require Sharonâs team to give their full attention to, but PFC Mattingâs full story was much more complicated than other PFCs. Matting was declared MIA and eventually deemed to be âOn Eternal Patrolâ in 1942. There was no way he could have washed up outside Quantico in a full, undamaged Navy officerâs uniform like he shouldnât have been decaying in the bottom of the ocean for the last nearly 80 years.
The NCIS Director told Sharon that nothing was to be discussed outside of the office. If anything was leaked to newspapers, the public would go into a panic. How is a Naval Officer from 1942 perfectly preserved and in the basement of Quantico?! theyâd shout. Sharon could keep news of the body out of the mediaâs hands, but covering up an old sub flying faster than a racecar through the bay would be a lot harder.
Just a few days after recovering, studying, and writing reports on PFC Matting, another body appeared on shore in the same manner. Motor Machinistâs Mate, Second Class William Hickey, who was presumed âOn Eternal Patrolâ in the South China Sea, appeared to be sleeping upon first glance. While waiting for the Medical Examiner to arrive on scene, Sharon secured the crime scene and finally took a few minutes to relax and look at the water that lived outside her office window.
Moments later, Sharon saw a ghostly fog approaching the shore. Fog wasnât predicted today. I guess you can never believe a weatherman on the East Coast, she thought. And she was right. The weatherman certainly didnât predict a giant gray submarine covered in seaweed, long green vines that glowed with radium, and no driver to hit Virginia that day.
Ever the prepared investigator, Sharon had her camera on her for crime scene photos but it made a good telescope when one had none in sight. Snapping quick pictures of the driverless sub approaching at Mach 9, Sharon noticed the name painted on the side of the sub along with the giant torpedo sized hole taking on water but not pulling the sub below the surface. It was the famous ship she always admired but never got to see. Something she appreciated when others couldnât care less.
The USS Growler.
