Fic: The Revenge Of The PT-73 (1/3)
Title: The Revenge Of The PT-73 (1/3)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter) Quinton McHale, Virgil Edwards, Fuji Kobiaji, Lester Gruber, Joseph 'Happy' Haines, George 'Christy' Christopher, Willy Moss, Chuck Parker, Elroy Carpenter, Brad Burns, Alan Ruggins, Joe Rawlins, Patrick O'Grady, Harrison 'Tinker' Bell
Fandom: McHale's Navy
Genres: Drama, Historical, Horror
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings (this chapter): None
Spoilers: For PT 73, Where Are You? (1x04)
General Summary: The crew of the PT-73 is spooked by strange happenings centered around their boat.
Chapter Summary: Is this boat haunted?
Date Of Completion: October 17, 2022
Date Of Posting: November 5, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count (this chapter): 2155
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the episode, PT 73, Where Are You? (1x04), which was written by Joseph Heller, author of Catch-22. This episode is also notable for Virgil wearing nothing but little black shorts. 😉
The entire series can be found here.
I
Is This Boat Haunted?
Once upon a time,
There was a boat so fine,
That sailed the seven seas
As freely as you please.
Shadows were swirling,
Light was curling,
Darkness was falling,
Souls were calling.
Haunted.
Sir Geoffrey Cutler-Smythe
"The Swirling Sea"
1843 C.E.
Quinton McHale drank his beer as he piloted the boat. The beer was just right but the boat wasn't, because she wasn't really the 73.
"Damn, I don't know about this," he muttered. "It just doesn't feel right."
"What, Skip?" Virgil asked from his position in the gun turret.
"The boat just doesn't feel right." He glared at his Gunner's Mate. "We ended up switching with the 116 because you had to take the 73 on a late night romantic rendezvous and then lost the boat!"
Virgil had the good grace to look ashamed. "Sorry, Skip."
"Yeah, you're sorry, but we're stuck with Carpy's boat painted over to pose as the 73."
"Well, we just enjoyed leave in New Caledonia. That should cheer you up, Skip "
McHale rolled his eyes. "We'll just have to make the best of it." He glared at Virgil again. "You and your wandering eye."
"I found the 73."
"Yeah, after we'd already swapped Carpy's 116 for the 73. We ended up with two 73s!" McHale gestured with his beer can. "So we painted the 73 over into the 116. And we ended up with torpedo tubes empty of beer cans and no comic books in the ammo cases. Not even a single pretzel!"
"Sorry, Skip." Virgil rubbed a bare shoulder.
"What's up with you?"
"I think I threw out my shoulder struggling with my machine gun."
"Is it jammed?"
"I don't know what's wrong with it. I had just the right touch with my gun on the 73."
"Never saw a man more one with his machine."
Virgil smiled proudly but then sobered. "This gun doesn't feel right."
"This whole boat doesn't."
Virgil continued to work with his machine gun while McHale finished his beer. He was uneasy about the cavalier dismissal of the 73. A commander felt one with his boat. He should've fought for his boat.
Was he being too sentimental? A PT boat was just plywood and tin. One was as good as another, right? Right?
& & & & & &
The crew of the PT-73 (formerly the 116) settled back onto their base after their seven-day leave. Fuji welcomed them back with a big smile and a grand lunch of several different kinds of greens and fruit with home-baked bread.
"Big feast tonight," he assured them.
"Well, that sounds great, Fuji," said McHale
"How was leave?"
"The best, Fuji. I won a hundred and fifty bucks at poker," said Gruber.
"One hundred fifty bucks? Wow!"
"Absolutely." Gruber took a wad of bills out of his pocket. "Need a loan?"
"You can't afford the interest," cracked Happy.
"Hey, there's special rates for buddies."
"Save it for the Marines, Gruber."
"Hmph." Gruber left the rec hut and went aboard the 73. Virgil was working in the gun turret while Christy was studying a chart on the bridge. Gruber went to one of the torpedo tubes and opened it. "Hey!"
"What's up, Grube?" asked Christy.
"There's no beer in this tube!"
"So what? This is the 116, remember? We have to stock up."
"I did. Filled it up this morning."
"Maybe you put the beer in the other tube," suggested Virgil.
Gruber muttered as he crossed over to the other tube. He opened it and shook his head. "Empty."
"Are you sure you stocked it, Lester?"
"How could I forget something like that?"
"Maybe one of the guys took 'em," said Christy.
"Are you kidding? Who'd be that much of a booze hound?"
"Mr. Parker?" Virgil said.
"What? Mr. Shirley Temple? Oh, I get it. Very funny."
Christy and Virgil grinned. Sometimes it was so easy.
Gruber huffed his way over to one of the ammo cases. Yanking it open, he squeaked, "Hey!"
"Now what?" Christy asked.
"No comic books in the ammo cases!"
"Maybe Mr. Parker took 'em. He hasn't had a chance to read the latest Mighty Mouse yet." Virgil checked the ammo on his machine gun.
Gruber declared both ammo cases empty. He checked a smaller case. "No pretzels! I just stocked it."
"Maybe someone's playing a joke on you."
"They better cut it out. Do you know what the Skip will say if we set sail again without the essentials?" Gruber clambered off the boat.
"Poor Lester," Virgil chuckled. "Ow!"
"What's the matter?"
"My machine gun just swung around and belted me!"
"What?" Christy looked around and saw Virgil rubbing the back of his head "Are you okay?"
"I think so." Virgil pouted.
Christy was always amused when Virgil pouted. "You gotta make sure to secure it."
"Tell me about it. Hey, don't tell the Skip, okay? I'm already in his doghouse."
"Okay." Christy stepped down from the bridge. "Here, let me see " He examined Virgil's head, parting the thick, wavy hair. "Ooh, that's quite a bump. If you develop a headache take an aspirin."
"Yes, Mother."
Christy grinned and patted Virgil's shoulder. Virgil looked warily at his gun.
& & & & & &
Fuji managed to make tinned beef into a feast with fresh pineapple and papaya. Willy's booze was the drink of choice. The welcome home dinner was a success, and after a few rounds of poker, the crew turned in. Tomorrow was a long patrol, and experience had taught them to get as much sleep as possible. Stripping to their boxer shorts, they tumbled into their bunks.
& & & & & &
A loud noise woke everyone up. Groggy from sleep, at first they could not figure out the noise
"Hey, is that the 73?" asked Happy.
"Someone's revvin' the engines," said Willy.
Putting their shoes on, the crew hurried out of their quarters. McHale and Chuck joined them and they cautiously approached the dock. Who was trying to steal the boat?
Willy and Tinker had grabbed their sidearms and kept them in hand.
"See anybody?" McHale asked.
"No one," Gruber answered.
It was a cloudy night, blocking the moon. If anyone was roaming around the boat, the shadows were concealing intruders. McHale scanned his boat (even if she didn't feel like it) but saw nothing.
"Whoever it is must be below decks." McHale's mind was racing. He needed a plan.
All possible plans flew out of the proverbial window. Virgil's .50-caliber machine swung around and began firing.
Shouts went up as the men ducked behind crates and trees. The gun sprayed bullets across the dock, chewing up the crates. It concentrated fire where Virgil and Christy were hiding.
"What's goin' on here?" McHale exclaimed.
"Dunno, Skip, but it sure is spooky," Willy said as he crouched down next to his commander. "Damn, I got nobody to aim at." He shook his head. "The boat's haunted."
McHale was tempted to bark, "Belay that kind of talk!" but Willy was right. Sort of.
The chattering of the machine gun finally stopped. "Back to quarters," McHale ordered.
Ten minutes later, the crew returned with combat gear and weaponry. They approached their own boat as if it was an enemy pillbox. No guns on board moved. No one appeared to be on board. Water gently lapped against the 73, and nocturnal birds made distinctive cries. Otherwise all was quiet.
They scrambled aboard and searched the boat. Empty. Virgil cautiously approached his gun. "No ammo left," he reported.
"Huh," said McHale. "Hap?"
Happy checked his gun. "Fully loaded, Skip."
"Stay close to it."
"What's goin' on, Skip?" asked Chuck.
"Beats me. Tink, what about the engines?"
"All good, Skip. Turned off, for now."
McHale shook his head. "Let's get back to bed, boys. Long patrol tomorrow."
"On this boat?" squeaked Happy.
"C'mon, you trick-or-treaters," McHale urged
Virgil kept looking over his shoulder at his gun. Christy patted his shoulder sympathetically as they headed for the barracks.
& & & & & &
The next morning dawned clear and bright, the ocean sparkling from the tropical sunlight. While the crew of the PT-73 were waking up on McHale's Island, the crew of the PT-116 were getting ready for a patrol of their own.
Lieutenant Elroy Carpenter greeted his dark-haired executive officer, Ensign Brad Burns. "All ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Let's shove off."
The crew of the 116 yawned as they set out on patrol. Brad consulted with Quartermaster Ruggins, who had control of the wheel. Elroy was scanning the horizon with binoculars.
"Hey!" exclaimed Torpedoman Rawlins.
"What's up, Rawls?" asked Brad
"The torpedo tube's full of beer cans!" He scratched the top of his red hair.
"What? I told you men to clear all that out," Elroy snapped.
"We did, sir "
"So, why are there still beer cans on this boat?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Hey, I need ammo for my .50-caliber," said Gunner's Mate O'Grady.
"Comin' right up...uh, oh?"
"Now what?" demanded Elroy.
Rawlins held out his hand. "Anybody still need to read the latest issue of Mighty Mouse?"
& & & & & &
The crew of the 73 was jittery as they set out on patrol after breakfast. They and Virgil didn't turn their backs on their guns, and Tinker swore he saw shadows moving in the engine room. Gruber kept checking the torpedo tubes and ammo cases, glad to see them stuffed with beer cans and comic books. Willy kept his eye on the sonar, wondering if it would act up.
Patrol was uneventful as regarded the enemy. Otherwise, it was nerve-wracking.
"Whew, glad that patrol's over," said Chuck as Christy guided the 73 home to the dock.
"I'm with you," said McHale.
Virgil and Gruber tied off the lines and everyone departed the boat. She rocked gently on the water as the men nervously headed to camp.
They ended up in the cook shack/mess hall and Fuji prepared lunch. Gruber laid his head on his crossed arms as he said, "I'm more exhausted than if we fought with a Japanese sub "
"Boy, you ain't kiddin'!" Tinker copied Gruber's actions
"Damn," was all that Happy could say.
Virgil looked nervously out of the window toward the dock. Christy tugged him by the arm and sat them both down at the table.
"We aren't imagin' all this, right, Skip?" Willy asked.
"I don't think so "
"This is just too weird, and I read Amazing Stories!"
There were mumbles of agreement around the table.
Fuji served lunch, but no one had much of an appetite. The mood was desultory and Happy said, "No reflection on your cookin', Fuje."
"Understood." Fuji shook his head. "Strange happenings."
"Very strange," McHale agreed. "I've heard of haunted ships in my day..."
"You've heard of haunted ships before, Skip?" asked Happy.
"Oh, sure. And if you talk about the South Pacific, hoo, boy."
"Dare we ask what kind of stories?"
"You think I'm going to tell you guys ghost stories like we're toasting marshmallows around the campfire? You're jittery enough as it is."
"What about haunted Islands?" asked Willy
"What about 'em?"
"The natives must have ghost stories."
"And you guys don't need to hear 'em."
"Bet the stories involve pots of boilin' oil."
"Oh, brother." McHale stood. "Okay, we've been on patrol all morning so chores for you." A collective groan brought a smile to his face. "Maybe a little physical labor will get your minds off this spooky stuff "
"But, Skip .." said Tinker.
"C'mon, c'mon, let's get to it."
The men reluctantly filed out of the cook shack and dispersed as McHale handed out assignments.
Fuji shook his head dolefully.
& & & & & &
The afternoon passed quickly as the crew tackled their chores, keeping their distance from the boat. Virgil was especially skittish, and Christy tried to calm him as they worked cutting back brush around the showers
"I'm telling you, Christy, that boat is out to get me."
"Aww, c'mon, I admit things are a little strange around here lately, but a boat out to get you?"
"You saw my own machine gun try to riddle me full of holes!"
Christy chopped at the brush. "You're just feelin' guilty about losing the 73."
"I found her again."
"Yeah, but then we had two 73s because we'd already swiped Carpy's 116 and changed the numbers. We had to change the 73 to the 116." Christy shook his head. "Bet the 73 didn't like that." Virgil's genuine look of worry caused Christy to take pity on him. Funny enough for all his coolness under fire and suaveness with the ladies, Virgil could be a worrier. "But there's no such thing as a haunted boat."
"Are you kidding? Where have you been the last few days?"
"By your side," Christy quipped as he tapped Virgil's backside with the machete handle. "Don't worry, Mr. Sexy, I'll make sure to save your beautiful butt if the boat targets you again."
"Ha, ha." Virgil shook his head as Christy laughed.
Down by the water, the 73 bumped the dock as Virgil's gun slowly swiveled around as if searching for someone.
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