Page 55 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

“Dear May, When I arrived in Norfolk, I climbed into the sail of a new submarine with a whole new crew. Not something I anticipated.Being granted special leave on account of Pops’ heart attack meant I would return off schedule, with my crew already deployed. And there’s no getting around that, I’m afraid. The men seem OK, but I sure will miss my friends. And I already miss you. That’s a whole lot of missing for one man to take. But I sure was glad I got to see you before I left.

I’m not sure when this will get to you, but when it does there will be a whole lot more. I plan to write you as often as I can. Shifts are long, and sleep is mandatory. But I made sure to bring enough paper with me for two more wars. When you get a stack of my letters you’ll know that though I’m here and you’re there, you are on my mind. Yours, Jerald Cocker.”

I fold and hold it to my heart.

Impressed, Mother says, “Well that is something, isn't it?”

Excited to read them all, I grab a soda pop from the fridge. But as soon as my fingers wrap around the glass, she says, “May, those aren’t good for your girlish figure.“

“Just one! Everything in moderation doesn’t mean total abstinence. I think it just means not to get lost in a thing!”

“Save it for special occasions.”

“Oh, alright.” I put the soda pop back, and, remembering my promise, go to sponge up the prints my shoes left in mom‘s hard work.

“Never mind that. You go on. This is a special day.”

“You mean a soda pop kind of special day?”

She laughs, “Fine, you win! But no more this week!”

Happily snatching one from the refrigerator, I pop the top and pause, frowning at it. I hand it to her.“You so rarely allow yourself to have special things. You have it.” She doesn’t know what to say as I bound out of the room with my precious letters.

31

JERALD

Dear May,

I figure you probably don’t know much about submarines. If I’m wrong about that, I beg your pardon. I thought I might share some things so you aren’t left in the dark when I return to Georgia.

Speaking of dark, I’ll begin there. There are three lighting conditions on the boat.

White Condition: when lights are on in the daytime. In fact, that’s how we know it’s daytime at all, if the lights are on.

Red Condition: when lightbulbs are all red. This is to get our eyes used to the darkness. That’s all it’s for.

Because then there’s the last one: Black Condition: lights out with our instruments backlit in red.

Just picture it, us behind our wheels near in pitch blackness save for our instruments glowing red. Sitting on that seat feels like an honor. Like I’m trusted. It sure does make a man feel his worth.That’s all for now, I guess. Except for one thing… I sure do wish I could see your smile. The memory of it keeps me going.

Yours,

Jerald Cocker

Dear May,

I need to get some shut eye so this will be brief, but I wanted to write. Even though I’m far away these letters make me feel close to you.

We’ve come up on some rough waters lately. Those German U-boats sure do mean business. They’re nicknamed ‘Wolfpack’ because they travel in packs to attack, and unfortunately it’s a very effective technique. We lost a few subs in our fleet, and I can’t say much more about that except it was felt all around. Our captain is one of the finest. After the scrapes he’s gotten us out of, we all believe in him now more than ever. I tell you that so you know I’m in good hands. I’m awful tired, but every time I think of you, my darling May, I feel a bounce in my step again even if it doesn’t show.

Yours,

Jerald Cocker

Dearest May,

I’ve been racking my brain for something to share that might make you smile. I think I found something. Guess where we keep our dress uniforms? Under our mattresses. See those are on metal bunks, so laying our clothes underneath, and then sleeping on top, keeps the uniforms pressed and doubles as storage. We sailors don’t bring our civilian clothes on board. And there isn’t enough room for closets, so storing our dress uniforms underneath the mattress works just fine. Besides that we have a cubbyhole that’s 12 x 12, and 18in deep. That’s where I keep your letters, and the pens and paper to write with. And my books. Which reminds me, I have a story to share about that. Why hadn’t it occurred to me until now? It’ll wait for another time. My eyelids can’t stay open much longer. That’s all right though. Whenever they’re closed I see your blue eyes and that beautiful smile I sure do miss.

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