Maiden of the USS Indianapolis

Day 1

All in all, it took twelve minutes for the Indianapolis to sink.
Only 890 of the 1,195  crew members made it off the ship.
The sun rose, cheery and bright in such a dismal scene.
I was floating on top of the water, having cried all the tears I could cry. My ship was currently leing beneath me, upside down and silent. The 310 crewmen still inside made me cry even harder.
I knew exactly when each of them died, and the last one had taken his last breath almost an hour after the ship went down. He had been trapped inside of an air pocket and was feebly calling for help until he could barely move.  Half an hour after that, he passed out and then stopped breathing.
Oh, how I wished I could join him, down in the depths and taking my last breath.
But Maidens are immortal.
Immortal is what is keeping me alive, floating on top of the water with my scattered crew.
Screw immortality.
I wanted to die.
I finally understood how the Arizona's Maiden felt, how her burden weighed upon her frail but  strong shoulders.
I understood why she had chosen to remain with her ship. Being a watching sentinel with her crew until the end of time was an honor and a burden I now understand.
But I had sailors still alive, still floating out in the elements. I couldn't leave them to die like their shipmates. So I pulled myself up off the surface of the water.  My crew were currently floating apart from each other and were blinking in the sunshine. A few were sitting inside lifeboats, but there were very few lifeboats. Most of the men were wearing life jackets and floating in the water.
Many had oil coating their faces, necks, backs, and hands. Last night, in my pain and terror, I had failed to notice that the oil from the ship was squirting onto my crew.
The first order of business was to find out if anyone had reported the sinking before the Indianapolis had fully been swallowed by the waves. One boy, a fair-haired kid with freckles who looked no older than 20, was already discussing this topic with his comrade, a dark-haired boy with a thin scraggly beard.
"Did..."he bobbed down and swallowed some water. "Did anyone report our sinking?"
The dark-haired boy -Mark- shook his head, and replied. "The ship went down too fast. Our only hope is if the crew in Leyte notices when we don't show up on time."  The first boy -Gabe - the fair haired boy - craned his neck back to squint up at the sun.
"I hope they figure it out soon."
Me too Gabe.
Me too.