"Diving Officer"
Moriarty: "Diving Officer, Aye."
"Make your depth 600 feet. Helm, all ahead 1/3, steady 090."
"Diving Officer, aye." "Helm, aye."
The ship heeled over and pitched down into the inky depths. The quartermaster duly recorded the orders and annotated the charts. Meanwhile, in the sonar shack...
Petty Officer Game, Crap to his friends, was jamming to some Tchaikowsky while listening to whale farts and trying to teach his new seaman, Kirk, how to recognize other ships and biologics in the depths. "You see, Seaman Kirk, listening is what sonar is all about. You have to have a .... wait, shhhhhh." as he clamped his headset to his ears. "Conn, Sonar. I've a contact, designated Sierra One." "Crap! Are you sure?" "Conn, Sonar, Aye. I distinctly heard Roll Over, Bethoven on the equipment."
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