Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.
The submarines of old stood out in the San Diego Harbor as Carla walked Bruno and Velma the dachshunds.
After tiring out both dogs, she paused to gaze at the submarines along the walkway. It didn’t appear as if any navy personnel had worked on them in over seventy-five-years.
The subs were relics of WWII, but Carla knew many men had died and been terrified for their lives in such submarines. The US had used them effectively ‘island hoping’ to help defeat the Japanese, after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor. Of course, the bombs had sealed the deal.
Suddenly, the dachshunds began to bark and yip ferociously. They pulled on their leashes willing Carla, their Mom, to go home.
She gazed back at the submarines one last time and let out a frightened shriek. Upon the old submarine, a ghostly navy crew with 1940’s uniforms, walked atop the sub performing their duties. They stopped, noticing Carla, and turned to whistle at her as if she was some wartime doll for kicks.
When she blinked again, the apparitions were gone. Carla decided she needed something stronger in her coffee this morning. Maybe she’d forget the coffee part altogether.
©Mandibelke16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.