The American Spectator

p> WE SKUNKED THEIR BATTLESHIP br> Re: Hal G.P. Colebatch’s Stephen Hopkins vs. the Germans: /p> p>As a graduate of Mass Maritime Academy and have many Kings Point graduates as friends, I am proud to read this article and hope that these Merchant Marine Seaman do receive their long overdue metals. Thank you once again for this story! br> — George R. Kalat br> MMA Class of 1945 /p>

This a story of the old America! When men were men and women were women and ne’er the twain would meet save on the horizontal.

Today if this scenario existed, the Skipper of the Hopkins would have to radio the U.S. and describe what he was looking at. Then someone in the bowels of the Pentagon would have to identify the so-called enemy ship.

That done, a factotum would scurry to Ms. Pelosi’s office and ask her permission to engage the enemy. Ms. Pelosi would ask him/her to come back in a few hours. She “needs to see if we’ve talked to the Germans.”

Meantime, our intrepid messenger runs to Harry Reid’s. Harry says he “has to contact the UN Law of the Sea Commission and advise them on the contents of the shells we propose to fire and only if their permission is granted. Then we’d have to check with the Czar of All Things Environmental to see if shooting contravenes our own pollution laws and if not, get a Senate committee to approve the requested actions by the Hopkins. By the way do you know what is in those shells?”

Jump back to the Atlantic… the Hopkins is aflame, its crew dead or wounded slipping in the fiery gore running down the side of the quickly sinking ship. With a mighty metallic groan the mortally wounded ship and her dead and dying crew slip beneath the waves, her guns never fired.