The Rescue - a Short Story

The orange Coast Guard Dolphin helicopter descended to a low hover over the airfield. It settled in for a perfect landing. The wind on the flight line was brisk, about ten knots straight down the runway. Landings don't often get closer to perfect, and as far as rescues go, the one the pilot and diver just got back from was not so bad, either. The diver didn't really have to try. The person in the water was already in a life vest of their own, and obeyed the diver's instructions almost to the letter. What everyone wanted to know was how a guy could just suddenly be spotted in the water by a passing ship, with no information about how he got in the water, or where he was from.

Zim, as his buddies called him, was only 25 and had been a diver for a year, and was just now really getting into the swing of things as he carried out his first set of active duty permanent orders. Stationed on the Gulf Coast for a two year tour, he figured he could just wait it out, and get orders closer to his home on the coast of South Carolina. He had only recently met a girl named Sam, but she kept shooting him down. Zim was determined though, and took the ribbings from his squadron mates with the cockiness that only a Coast Guard diver could have. He'd tell his squaddies that he'd get her even if it meant setting a new base record for the most shoot-downs from a single girl, ever.

Dortch, the pilot, interrupted his distraction as they walked back to the locker rooms behind the offices.

"Zim," he said, "Are you thinking about Sam again? You've got that stupid little grin on your face again."

"I know, it's just that lately, I think about Sam after every rescue. I don't know why, but today especially."

"You telling me that guy has you spooked?"

"Look, Torch, anything like that rescue ever happened to you?"

"No, Zim, not ever. That's why I'm not talking about it. Ever. And you shouldn't, either. I'd forget about Sam, too. I mean, face it, you've been shot down by her what, eight times now?"

"But, Lt. Dortch, the guy told me we should. Actually said it was important that we be honest about what happened on the flight back. And it's nine. She shot me down nine times."

"Look Zim, as the pilot, my debrief needs to be picture perfect, or I get a Letter of Instruction and a Board of Review convenes to see if I should continue flying. That's me without stick time for three months at least. I can't risk it. Not even once, much less nine, you moron."

Zim almost laughed, but instead, he pointed at the office doors, and said simply: "You may not have too."

Lt. Dortch turned to see the very man they had just rescued, cleaned up and in a suit, walking out of the debriefing office. That was a very unusual thing. The man turned, looked at Torch and Zim, and then without a wave, or an acknowledgement, walked out of the base offices.

Commander Travis was next at the office door. "Zimmerman! You and Dortch get in here, right now, debrief!"

Heads around the office turned. Pilot and Diver hardly ever had debriefed at the same time. This was so that both stories about the flight could be gathered separately, and then compared to each other for verification of truth to anyone who might need to investigate later. After all, rescues at sea are expensive things, and if anything at all goes wrong with the rescue, the cost goes up exponentially as more rescue assets get involved, which tends to make people ask questions, so the stories had better be right.

Pilot and Diver reported straightaway to the office, and the Commander began with a small speech.

"Gentlemen, rescues do not get any simpler than that. So please tell me how in the hell I am supposed to explain what just happened out there?"

Lt. Dortch drew breath to explain first, but Travis cut him off curtly. "Zim can answer this one, Torch."

Zim answered as best he could. "Sir, he called Torch by his first name as soon as I got him on the radio to talk to him."

Travis looked at Torch. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it's true, Sir. He said 'Steve, I need to talk to your diver on a separate channel while you fly us home.' Honest, sir. That's what he said."

"And so," said the Commander, "you just let this guy speak to your diver alone."

"I was taken by surprise that he knew my first name. I actually did kinda recognize the guy, and it just seemed like it made sense to let them talk." Lt. Dortch answered.

"Okay, Zim. What happened?" asked Commander Travis. "It's your turn."

"Sure," Zim said. "He told me I was about to have a very interesting week."

Both heads turned to look directly at Zim.

"Please," said the Commander, "explain that answer very carefully."

Lt. Dortch just sat there, utterly perplexed. The Commander never went out of procedure for anything, or anyone, and yet, most of the common procedures kept after a flight were a smoking ruin at this point. Nobody in the room should even be entertaining something like this.

Zim told the story as it happened:

"We got over the guy in the water. The ship that called him in said that they were sure he was not from their boat. They were doing 15 knots southeasterly when they saw what turned out to be his orange lifevest coming by on the port side. They put binoculars on it, thinking it was just a lost vest, but the guy waved at them. They altered course to offer assistance, but as they altered course, they lost the position of the guy and radioed the contact in, requesting a search. We were dispatched, and found him several miles behind the boat. I hit the water, and the guy was easy to deal with, not upset, nothing. We got him in the chopper and then he calls the pilot by name. I thought it was some sort of training, that he was a Coastie dropped off by the other ship, to train Torch and me."

"Go on," spoke the Commander.

"Torch gave us channel 4 on the chopper's inside circuit, and that's when he told me about next week."

"What did he tell you?"

"He said next week I will be involved in a rescue. And that if I screw up, and don't rescue the right person first, everyone else in the water that day would die, except me. He only gave me one clue about who to rescue first. He said I'd recognize the person I needed to rescue first. Said if I didn't rescue that person first, I would lose everything."

"You would lose everything." The Commander sighed. "That's all he told you?"

"Yes, sir. That's all. That's all. That next week I'd recognize who I needed to rescue, and that if I failed to rescue that person, I'd lose everything, and that everyone else who was in the water that day would die."

Then the Commander did something unusual. He looked right at Zim and said "I believe you."

Lt. Dortch started upright in his chair. "You what?" the Lieutenant chopper pilot blurted out.

"I believe him, I believe what Zim says. Make sure when you right your reports that you both leave that portion of the flight out. We will debrief as usual in ten minutes. Torch, you're dismissed. I need Zim for another minute."

Lt. Dortch rose and exited the office. "Zim," said the Commander, "since the guy spoke to you the most, I figured you might want to know what he just said to me when he was in my office."

"Yes, sir?" Zim knew better than to volunteer too much, even if he was a straight-laced diver.

"I believe him because he told me something."

"What did he tell you?" Zim sat up, his curiosity piqued.

"He told me I was going to be a grandfather. "

"You are? That's great!" Zim paused. "But wait, how does he know that?"

"Exactly. That's what I was wondering. My daughter and her husband are four hundred miles away."

"So.. what's going on here." Zim asked out loud, to nobody in particular.

"I wish I knew." Said Commander Travis. "After he walked out, I called my daughter to see how she's doing. I asked how the new grandbaby's doing. She asked me how I knew already. I said I had a feeling. She said my feeling was pretty good, since the appointment with the gynecologist to see if she's pregnant is tomorrow."

It happened exactly one week later. A storm front moved off of Texas into the northern Gulf of Mexico. It generated a series of waves that worked their way ahead of the storm as the front advanced slowly on Florida.

A deep-sea fishing boat, loaded with men for a day trip, set out early, to try and get a few fish in before the advancing storm forced the raising of small-craft advisories off the Florida coast. The advisories were expected on Friday, so a Thursday trip could be worked in, if they get there, caught a few, and got home.

The call came at ten in the morning Thursday. Six men were aboard a foundering deep-sea boat just south of Mobile Bay. Torch, Zim, and another chopper set off for the rescue. Waves on the scene were running ten to twelve feet. On the way, they received word that the boat had one hell of a captain, who was battling the water with a spare bilge pump, and was keeping the boat afloat, but losing ground steadily. The captain himself estimated only another half hour before the boat capsized and was lost in the increasing waves. Zim and the other chopper were still twenty minutes out.

It went pretty quick after that. Zim hit the water on the down side of the current, so the current would allow him to swim to the boat. The other diver hit the water within seconds, and they both went to work. All six men were still on the boat, clinging to the aft end, and one man could be seen going down into the cabin space below. As he disappeared, a wave something larger hit the boat and swept the five off to the water. He turned to the other diver - "Get to the men in the water! I've got the guy in the boat!" At that instant, the boat capsized.

Battling the waves, Zim hit the side of the boat, and grabbed his emergency escape breathing device. It contained three minutes of air so he could work underwater as he needed. He dove under the boat, into the cabin, and found the other man trapped in an air pocket, trapped by the lifevest on a doorjamb. He cut the vest away, and freed the man. Then Zim gave the man a second escape breather he had packed because of the strange man's warning.

Moments later, the two of the popped to the surface and took the escape breathers out of their mouths.

With the custom that is the Coast Guard, Zim looked at the man that he had just rescued, and yelled simply: "I'm Petty Officer Second Class Zimmerman! I am your rescue swimmer today! Please follow my instructions!!"

The man he rescued yelled something back, but it was lost in the noise of the Dolphin helicopter settling in over Zim's first rescue of the day. Because of the going under the boat, Zim and his rescue were lifted first, leaving Zim to remember the warning about everyone else in the water, and all he could think of were the other five. Just then, something in the still floating capsized boat caught a spark, and the rest of the boat went up in a fireball. Zim recoiled from reflex as Torch pulled the chopper up, back, and to the right. The other chopper did the same, from its position nearby. Debris from the boat showered around the remaining men, and as the smoke cleared away, and the boat slipped under the waves, Zim fought with the mental horror that he had rescued the wrong person, until the smoke cleared, and he saw the other diver and the five men waving at them from the water, unharmed. Two others were lifted into Zim's chopper, and three were lifted into the second chopper. It meant Zim got credit for one rescue, and the other diver got credit for five, but Zim's rescue got credit for being a "sporty rescue," which was for a diver, the equivalent of a grand slam or pitching a perfect game. So Zim just figured it all worked out fine.

Safely back in the chopper, Zim, his first rescue, and two others got settled in and made the flight back. Zim took vital signs on all of them, assessed the extent of injuries to all in the chopper, and looked out at the other chopper carrying the other diver and the three other men as they crossed back over dry land.

At the Coast Guard station, each of the men were led away to get cleaned up and offered a pair of coveralls and a place to change out of their wet clothes. As they did that, Zim and Torch got cleaned up after a rather decent rescue, and waited on the first family members to come and pick up the men they had just rescued.

"So," Torch asked, "do you think that was the one?"

"I don't know for sure, but I think so."

Outside, a car pulled up, but Zim didn't notice. The man he had rescued from inside the boat walked past the break room he and Torch were in. The man noticed Zim, and said "Hey! My family is here! They're gonna want to thank you. Can you take a moment, for me, please? It'd mean a lot."

"Sure," the Commander expects it of us. "Says it's just good manners."

Both men shared a laugh and started towards the office doors.

At that moment, the doors opened from the other side, and before he knew it, the man had been enveloped by his wife and family. But one family member remained at the entrance, stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Zim, who looked nearly perfect in Coast Guard uniform.

Zim had just rescued Sam's Dad.