OSWALD: AUTHOR OF HIS OWN DESTINY
Chuck Oswald, circa 1937
Reginald Hubbard, circa 1935
Chuck Oswald woke with a ragged breath, face-down in the sandy muck of South American soil, the smell of tropic air and gunpowder heavy in his nostrils. The bold and brash son of Phoenix Oil tycoon Joseph Oswald, Sr., had volunteered for the Navy the day after the attack on Point Pierce. It had shocked and upset his father, at first. After all, he was the only remaining heir to the Oswald fortune following the untimely and unceremonious hunting trip-gone-wrong of his brother Joe Jr., but he was an adult and there was little his father could do to stop him. For some godforsaken reason, Chuck got it in his head that he needed to "serve his country." His father begged him to stay and told him he could serve his country by helping to run the family business and manage fundraisers and bond drives with his charismatic personality and fame as the suitor to Wyetta Arkham Custer-Steele, the daughter of the President. Indeed, Joe Sr. saw it as his ultimate political ambition to marry his son to the Steele girl and thus give birth to the ultimate Yankee Pinnacle family. In truth, Joe constantly worried himself that one day, sooner or later, someone would find out about his actual Irish Catholic heritage, but if his family married into the Steeles then he could crush any such rumor like a bug.
The origins of Chuck Oswald's fateful enlistment in the Republican Union Navy actually lies with his love the science-fiction adventure hero Zap Zephyr, the "21st Century Pinnacle Man" whose cigar-chomping, laser-blasting, womanizing grand exploits in the far reaches of space inspired Chuck from a young age. Second was his friendship, and only real companion during his formative years, Reginald Eugene Hubbard, son of Navy Commander Eustace Eugene Hubbard. While Reggie was several years older than Chuck, they had been friends ever since meeting at a ball hosted by the Banking Clan in Philadelphia. Reggie had tapped on Chuck's shoulder during a dance with Wyetta and asked to cut in, which Chuck surprisingly obliged. During the after-party, Chuck introduced himself to Reggie and told him, "I gotta say, Ensign Hubbard, that is mighty bold of you to assume you can cut in on me with the President's daughter, you G**-damned queer. Don't you know who I am?"
Hubbard tried to disarm Chuck with his own charm and mentioned how he had heard that Chuck was obsessed with Zap Zephyr. As it turned out, Hubbard was a massive fan himself, owning every comic book that was ever released. He even had each one autographed by their respective writers. This delighted Oswald, who immediately began asking a gauntlet of questions about the collection. To the surprise of everyone, the two became inseparable chums, spending lots of time together and even touring the studio where the Zap Zephyr talkiebox dramas were filmed, down at SPUD Studios in Kissimmee, Florida. They also began to write their own Zap Zephyr adventure stories and read them to each other, asking for genuine feedback. Surprisingly, one of Oswald's original works, "The Trouble with Gorlax," was published in Zap Zephyr Monthly, a collection of short stories set in the "Zephyrverse." The story received a positive reception from readers who asked for more from the author. Oswald published "Gorlax" under the pen name "Gene Lucas." The reason for the trickery was because Joe Sr. did not wish his son to be famous for "writing a bunch of hoo-hah tomfoolery about men from Mars." This greatly upset Oswald, who had been writing for some time and had ambitions to become a published novelist. When 1934 arrived and a 17 year-old Oswald had to choose a major from Benedict Arnold University of Boston, he told his father he wanted to get a degree in creative writing. Joe despised this vehemently and shut down the idea. Nevertheless, Chuck kept pushing for it, even sending copies of some of his best works to the BAUB creative writing program. Unbeknownst to Chuck, Joe intercepted a letter of keen acceptance from BAUB and doctored the letter to become a denial, mocking Chuck's writing abilities.
Chuck was incredibly unhappy about the business management degree his father had chosen for him and he longed to escape Boston and his father's control. When war broke out in 1936, he finally saw his chance. At the age of 19, Chuck Oswald joined the Grand Navy of the Republic, specifically requesting to be put on the battleship R.U.S
. Cape Cod, which was under the command of Eustace Hubbard and was also the vessel on which Reggie served. To say Joe despised this vehemently and tried to shut it down would be an understatement. Joe tried to ship his son off to Port Halifax, home of Navy Group I, often considered the cream of the crop of the entire Navy, which would almost certainly mean no action for the entire war. Navy Group I was stationed at Halifax to guard the North Atlantic, a position which could not be left vacant. By now, however, Chuck was far past the age of majority and demanded to ship out from Boston with his chum and fellow BAUB classmates who had flocked to the colors.
Following a brief few weeks of training, the
Cape Cod steamed off for the sunny tropic waters of the Caribbean to reinforce the shivering wreck that Navy Group V had become. They arrived shortly before the Panama Canal Campaign at the end of '36, seeing little action outside of a few skirmishes with Neutie scout planes. During these small firefights, Oswald distinguished himself in battle, relishing his first confirmed kill when he shot down a Europan-made fighter plane on December 12. Oswald wrote down in his personal diary, dated that same day:
"Today I dispatched an Inferior from this earthly realm into the darkest caverns of hell. We were having an uneventful patrol when several enemy planes elected to strafe our area to feel us out for weakness. I showed them the steely resolve of a man of such Pinnacle breeding as I and fired all four barrels at the harpee-spawn, sending one of their lot crashing down into the ocean in a beautiful pyrotechnic display, my offering to the God of War. I was awarded a commendation for my aim, the first of what I can only hope to be a surplus of awards and medals to bring home to my old man. I believe this is the start of a most excellent chapter of my life. I am the author of my own destiny, and I shall make it manifest. Hail the Victory."
Little did our young hero know that his life was about to be upended in the most literal sense. On January 6, 1937, a week into Steele's retaliation for the destruction of the Canal, the Cape Code and its battle squadron were running offensive along the Colombian coast, near Los Cordobas. The Neutrality Pact army in Panama was trapped at the Darien Gap, a hellhole swampland that made their general retreat almost impossible with Legate General Fleetwood nipping at their heels the entire time. The Neutral navy was using quick gunboats and civilian vessels to ferry pockets of troops back to the homeland, and it was the responsibility of Commander Hubbard's squadron to terminate such ships. Thinking they spotted easy prey in the form of three gunboats laden with men and supplies, the American ships moved in for the kill, guns blazing. It was, in reality, a trap. Three Brazilian-made battleships (an early contribution from the Eduist government to the Neutral cause) appeared from around a small island and attacked swiftly and without hesitation. Within a half-hour, the Cape Code was taking on a deluge of seawater in its aft-end, and two of its support vessels were destroyed. One of the Brazilian-made vessels was also sunk, but the damage had been done. While the Neuties steamed off to fight another day, satisfied with the damage they had done, the
Cape Cod began to violently list to the starboard side. That was when it became really interesting. A Neutral submarine arrived to deliver a final blow to the American ship, firing two torpedoes and slinking off under the waves. The magazine was hit, rupturing the hull of the
Cape Cod completely and sending debris and no longer able-bodied seamen cascading into the ocean. Through all the screams and cries and explosions, one Seaman Oswald was busy at work.
Oswald was going room-to-room, using an ax to clear wreckage, and was attempting to save as many of his fellow crew as possible. After helping set up a team system for retrieving the wounded and loading them onto life boats, Oswald found Reggie trapped under a fallen beam and pulled him to safety. Together, the two chums pressed on to the command bridge, knowing they had very little time left before the entire ship would sink. They found who they were looking for. Commander Hubbard was laying across the floor of the Bridge, shrapnel lodged in his chest, the dark crimson stain displaying itself vulgarly against his crisp white dress uniform. Knowing he was too far gone, the men paid their respects and moved on, taking the Commander's dress saber and promising the dying man they would give it to President Steele in tribute.
The flotilla of lifeboats was ready to depart the sinking ship, and the surviving ship of the squadron, the destroyer tender R.U.S.
Paul Revere, was nearby ready to receive the survivors. Suddenly, out of the smokey haze, another enemy ship appeared. It was a massive destroyer, fresh from port. It apparently was a delayed reinforcement for the first Neutral ships, the battle-damaged remains of which brought up its rear. With thunderous volleys, the deck guns opened up, hammering away the
Paul Revere. To the shock of Oswald, Reggie, and the rest of the lifeboat survivors, the
Paul Revere began to flee the battle, outmatched and outgunned. Despite cries begging for salvation, the American ship was turning and running away.
Chuck and Reggie watched from their lifeboat as their only hope steamed away into the fog. Thinking they would soon be prisoners, they made plans on what they would do when the Neuties hauled them out of the water. Several moments later their plans were dashed when a shell slammed into a nearby lifeboat, killing all aboard in an instant. Severed limbs fell splashing into the water. Another shell suddenly burst directly to their left, tipping their boat over. Oswald, Reggie, and five other men all went sprawling into the blood-soaked ocean, struggling to tread water with their bodies in shock. Grinders opened up on the deck of the Neutral ships, executing many more survivors en masse. it was a massacre. It was also when Charles Oswald was about to earn a Medal of Valor. Reggie was now unconscious and rapidly sinking below the waves. Despite a large chunk of shrapnel in his back, Oswald swam below the water and clutched Reggie's kerchief to pull him back. All around, sailors were being shot where they floated, screaming and crying. Chuck realized their only hope was to hide underneath the overturned lifeboat and hope to avoid stray bullets. Like a turtle engaging its defenses, Oswald and Hubbard went under the lifeboat, joined by several others who also picked up on the idea. Soon the Neutral ships were off after the
Paul Revere. From their lifeboat shell, they could hear the laughs of the Hispanic sailors. They had enjoyed it. They had been having fun. Oswald was now clutching Reggie's kerchief between his teeth while trying to treat other sailors' wounds right where they were.
They finally found the courage to flip their boat over and they climbed back on board. Chuck remembered little else after this point, as he collapsed from exhaustion and shock. When he woke up, he was where our story began, face-down in sand. He slowly opened his eyes and attempted to rub the salt and sand out of them. Then he tested himself to see if any of his bones were broken. To his surprise, none were. The shrapnel in his back hurt like hellfire, though, and he knew that would probably have some lasting effects. The young sailor carefully stood himself up on the sandy shore and looked around, taking in his new surroundings. All over the beach were the bodies of American crewmen, in various states of dismemberment. Others were the lucky survivors. Some of them crawled while others were already up and about.
"Where's Reggie?" Chuck asked himself, panic hitting hard as he came to his senses.
Hubbard was nearby, as luck would have it, but still unconscious. Oswald quickly found him and used a lifeboat and some sticks to form a makeshift shelter to keep Hubbard dry and protected. He was his only friend, and he didn't intend to lose him. As he saw it, Hubbard was his "Skip Hancock," the first mate to Zap Zephyr in the comics. How could he be like Zap Zephyr without a trusty sidekick? He sat watchfully by his "sidekick," drying out and cleaning his service pistol. A few other survivors began to plan an expedition into the jungle, maybe to find a town where they could steal supplies. Oswald liked this idea, as striking out and plundering a civilian population center could go a bit toward repaying the Neuties for their barbaric slaughter of American sailors. Pretty soon, Oswald was their de facto leader, purely through his own initiative and self-confidence, as well as his wearing of the Commander's sword. By nightfall, they spotted lights on the horizon, a small town, no doubt. Oswald voted to march to the distant village and attack and take what was needed, maybe even take over the town if they could. Executing some Infee savages would surely look good on his resume once they got out of this nightmare.
With a low groan, Reginald Hubbard finally woke from his coma as the moon rose over the shoreline. Oswald thought he might have been on death's door or possibly a vegetative state.
"Lazarus come forth!" Oswald exclaimed, glad to see Hubbard back in the land of the living. The nickname would stick.