Post by ∬: Erhard Strumfelder on Aug 31, 2008 19:12:01 GMT
A little English Assignment I've had to work on over the holidays. Any coments? Good/bad? Realistic/Unrealistic? 'Exicting Vocabulary'? 'Varied paragraph openings'? Does it excite you?
1st March 1968
N40º00.000’ W180º00.000’
Pacific Ocean
2500 Miles North West of US State of Hawaii
Golf II Submarine: K-129
Captain First Rank V.I. Kobzar Commanding
The dark, cigar shaped object slowly cut its way through the cold seas of the North Pacific. The very object that had once been the pride of the Soviet Pacific Fleet, but that was before the days of Captain Kobzar, and before Kobzar had opened his eyes and seen the net of lies that the Socialist state had spun. But now his small crew of eighty three men were escaping, and were about to leave Comrade Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev, a little surprise. On board were three R-21 ICBM, which would soon tear the home of the US Pacific Fleet apart. President Johnson would believe it a prelude to an invasion, and declare war on the USSR. Brezhnev wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of it, and the secretly weak communist forces would be crushed, along with Lenin’s dream. Thousands would die, but Kobzar would be saving the Union from a far worse fate.
“Comrade Navigator, our current position?” Kobzar asked, bouncing up on the balls of his feet like an excited child.
“Exactly four zero degrees north, and on the one eight zero line of longitude, Comrade Captain.” Lieutenant Petrov smiled.
“Excellent,” Kobzar replied. He stepped over to one of many radio boxes, attacked to a polished vertical pipe, which allowed him to speak to every compartment in the ship. “Comrade Chief Engineer, reduce speak to zero six, and raise us to periscope depth.”
“Comrade, our orders are explicit; we are miles out of our way, and we are now risking detection. For what? I’m going to have to counter your order comrade, this getting ridiculous!” Kobzar turned and saw the only man aboard the sub not to know of the defect. Commissar Brereznia. Kobzar’s only equal in rank. Not that any of the crew would listen to his orders...
Kobzar smiled slightly, his back still to the deluded man. Maybe he should have done this before. He whipped out his Makarov 9mm from its holster on his hip, and spun around, the slights levelling on Brereznia’s chest.
“What...?”
Kobzar squeezed the trigger twice, and the officer’s chest exploded with a fine mist of blood. He fell backwards on to the deck, the entire control room now silent. Kobzar stepped forward, and put a final bullet into the skull.
A sharp clatter of feet was promptly followed by the entrance of the first officer, Alexei Lysenko, his own Makarov drawn.
“I heard gunshots!” the flustered man cast his gaze downwards, and saw the body. “Oh...” Both men holstered their pistols, as Lysenko stepped towards him, and the control room buzzed back into life. “Did you need to kill him? Now?”
“We already agreed, Alexei.”
“But in front of the men?!”
“We are about to murder over one million people...”
Kobzar reached down to the body, and lifted a key attached around a small cord from the Commissars neck. It had warm blood on the back, from the last bullet’s spray.
“Take this. You’ll need it.” Kozar threw it at his second, and lifted off his own key. He looked around, and grinned. “For one final time, men.” Kobzar drew in breath. “United forever in friendship and labour...” The men followed him up.
He took off towards the front of the ship, Lysenko in his wake. They passed the large batteries and entered the missile room. A large consol stood in the centre.
“Prime the missiles,” Kobzar called, through the heavy singing.
“Missiles primed, Comrade Captain,” came the response.
Both men slipped the keys into the consol, and together they turned them, as they had dreamed. A small ticker appeared.
Our glory will live in the memory of nations,
5.
And all generations will honour her name.
4.
Long live our Soviet motherland,
3.
Built by the people's mighty hand.
2.
Long live our people, united and free.
1.
An fireball erupted from the launch tube, and rocket through the craft, incinerating everything in it’s path. K-129 was lost.
Authors Note:
The Soviet Submarine K-129 was declared lost by officials, with all hands, on 8th March 1968. Nobody truly knows her fate, through several rumours originating from the US Navy suggest a collusion with USS Swordfish, a Skate class attack submarine. This story is a dramatisation of the event, exploring one possible reason for here loss. Both Soviet and US officials deny that a collision ever took place.
1st March 1968
N40º00.000’ W180º00.000’
Pacific Ocean
2500 Miles North West of US State of Hawaii
Golf II Submarine: K-129
Captain First Rank V.I. Kobzar Commanding
The dark, cigar shaped object slowly cut its way through the cold seas of the North Pacific. The very object that had once been the pride of the Soviet Pacific Fleet, but that was before the days of Captain Kobzar, and before Kobzar had opened his eyes and seen the net of lies that the Socialist state had spun. But now his small crew of eighty three men were escaping, and were about to leave Comrade Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev, a little surprise. On board were three R-21 ICBM, which would soon tear the home of the US Pacific Fleet apart. President Johnson would believe it a prelude to an invasion, and declare war on the USSR. Brezhnev wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of it, and the secretly weak communist forces would be crushed, along with Lenin’s dream. Thousands would die, but Kobzar would be saving the Union from a far worse fate.
“Comrade Navigator, our current position?” Kobzar asked, bouncing up on the balls of his feet like an excited child.
“Exactly four zero degrees north, and on the one eight zero line of longitude, Comrade Captain.” Lieutenant Petrov smiled.
“Excellent,” Kobzar replied. He stepped over to one of many radio boxes, attacked to a polished vertical pipe, which allowed him to speak to every compartment in the ship. “Comrade Chief Engineer, reduce speak to zero six, and raise us to periscope depth.”
“Comrade, our orders are explicit; we are miles out of our way, and we are now risking detection. For what? I’m going to have to counter your order comrade, this getting ridiculous!” Kobzar turned and saw the only man aboard the sub not to know of the defect. Commissar Brereznia. Kobzar’s only equal in rank. Not that any of the crew would listen to his orders...
Kobzar smiled slightly, his back still to the deluded man. Maybe he should have done this before. He whipped out his Makarov 9mm from its holster on his hip, and spun around, the slights levelling on Brereznia’s chest.
“What...?”
Kobzar squeezed the trigger twice, and the officer’s chest exploded with a fine mist of blood. He fell backwards on to the deck, the entire control room now silent. Kobzar stepped forward, and put a final bullet into the skull.
A sharp clatter of feet was promptly followed by the entrance of the first officer, Alexei Lysenko, his own Makarov drawn.
“I heard gunshots!” the flustered man cast his gaze downwards, and saw the body. “Oh...” Both men holstered their pistols, as Lysenko stepped towards him, and the control room buzzed back into life. “Did you need to kill him? Now?”
“We already agreed, Alexei.”
“But in front of the men?!”
“We are about to murder over one million people...”
Kobzar reached down to the body, and lifted a key attached around a small cord from the Commissars neck. It had warm blood on the back, from the last bullet’s spray.
“Take this. You’ll need it.” Kozar threw it at his second, and lifted off his own key. He looked around, and grinned. “For one final time, men.” Kobzar drew in breath. “United forever in friendship and labour...” The men followed him up.
He took off towards the front of the ship, Lysenko in his wake. They passed the large batteries and entered the missile room. A large consol stood in the centre.
“Prime the missiles,” Kobzar called, through the heavy singing.
“Missiles primed, Comrade Captain,” came the response.
Both men slipped the keys into the consol, and together they turned them, as they had dreamed. A small ticker appeared.
Our glory will live in the memory of nations,
5.
And all generations will honour her name.
4.
Long live our Soviet motherland,
3.
Built by the people's mighty hand.
2.
Long live our people, united and free.
1.
An fireball erupted from the launch tube, and rocket through the craft, incinerating everything in it’s path. K-129 was lost.
Authors Note:
The Soviet Submarine K-129 was declared lost by officials, with all hands, on 8th March 1968. Nobody truly knows her fate, through several rumours originating from the US Navy suggest a collusion with USS Swordfish, a Skate class attack submarine. This story is a dramatisation of the event, exploring one possible reason for here loss. Both Soviet and US officials deny that a collision ever took place.
( the semicolon is an often looked over punc. mark.) and the secretly weak communist forces would be crushed, along with Lenin’s dream. Thousands would die, but Kobzar would be saving the Soviet Union from a far worse fate.
