A few days ago, I posted something in another thread, about the camaraderie between service members, the common bond we share which others may acknowledge, but not fully understand. It's particularly true for those in the same service, with the same professional experiences.
For me, this means submariners.
Argentina has lost a submarine, the AKA San Juan. It's big in the news and I'm sure most all of us here have read or heard about it. Communications were lost with the sub on November 15th, 6 days ago. She was on a routine patrol.
"Routine patrol". Spokespersons and the media may use this phrase, but in the realm of submarine life the use of the word "routine" is anathema. There is NOTHING "routine" about submarine life.
Why? Because the moment things become "routine", bad, bad things happen. If the sea is unforgiving on the surface, it's absolutely unforgiving in the cold depths.
Those Sailors on the AKA San Juan? They're part of the Brotherhood of the 'Phin. Regardless of nationality, regardless of political stands, they're my brothers (and sister), as surely as any shipmate I ever had.
Six days missing. In a steel tube, possibly on the ocean floor somewhere. Maybe above crush depth, maybe below. Maybe alive, maybe dead. Every submariner knows the risk...every submariner knows they live only at the mercy of the ocean, and that the ocean is absolutely unforgiving of mistakes and those who don't respect her.
Six days missing. If they're alive, they know exactly how much of their 7 to 10 days of oxygen they've used.
Six days missing. Oxygen may not be the limitation. You know the water temperature at crush depths of submarines can be below 40 degrees Fahrenheit? Cold kills, just as surely as suffocation.
Six days missing. Literally trapped in a steel tube with less and less hope of survival. Just imagine what this would do to the average mind.
Death can take many forms aboard a submarine. This particular scenario is probably the most terrifying. Alive but trapped, lost to the outside world, little if any hope of survival beyond a handful of days.
Finding a missing submarine is not easy. And every minute that passes by means survival grows less likely.
Hold these people in your prayers. If you don't hold religious beliefs, take a moment to consider what it means to be a submariner and extend to them your respect and hope for survival.
For me, this means submariners.
Argentina has lost a submarine, the AKA San Juan. It's big in the news and I'm sure most all of us here have read or heard about it. Communications were lost with the sub on November 15th, 6 days ago. She was on a routine patrol.
"Routine patrol". Spokespersons and the media may use this phrase, but in the realm of submarine life the use of the word "routine" is anathema. There is NOTHING "routine" about submarine life.
Why? Because the moment things become "routine", bad, bad things happen. If the sea is unforgiving on the surface, it's absolutely unforgiving in the cold depths.
Those Sailors on the AKA San Juan? They're part of the Brotherhood of the 'Phin. Regardless of nationality, regardless of political stands, they're my brothers (and sister), as surely as any shipmate I ever had.
Six days missing. In a steel tube, possibly on the ocean floor somewhere. Maybe above crush depth, maybe below. Maybe alive, maybe dead. Every submariner knows the risk...every submariner knows they live only at the mercy of the ocean, and that the ocean is absolutely unforgiving of mistakes and those who don't respect her.
Six days missing. If they're alive, they know exactly how much of their 7 to 10 days of oxygen they've used.
Six days missing. Oxygen may not be the limitation. You know the water temperature at crush depths of submarines can be below 40 degrees Fahrenheit? Cold kills, just as surely as suffocation.
Six days missing. Literally trapped in a steel tube with less and less hope of survival. Just imagine what this would do to the average mind.
Death can take many forms aboard a submarine. This particular scenario is probably the most terrifying. Alive but trapped, lost to the outside world, little if any hope of survival beyond a handful of days.
Finding a missing submarine is not easy. And every minute that passes by means survival grows less likely.
Hold these people in your prayers. If you don't hold religious beliefs, take a moment to consider what it means to be a submariner and extend to them your respect and hope for survival.