My heart goes out to the families of the crew members of the destroyer Fitzgerald who were killed in the destroyer's collision with a Philippine container ship, a much larger vessel. Anyone who's ever been an enlisted sailor aboard a Navy ship can visualize the situation. The collision took place at about 2 a.m. local time, or what the Navy would call zero-two-hundred. The overnight watch would be in place for its midnight to eight schedule. Most of the rest of the crew would be in their racks (bunks) catching some sleep, in berthing compartments packed with bunks and lockers, with maybe forty or fifty guys (or today, gals) in a berthing space. When the hull was torn open above and below the waterline, the water would have filled up the spaces in a few minutes, and after a cursory shout and check to summon everyone out, the doors and hatches would have been sealed to keep the ship from filling up and sinking entirely. Sailors could have been unconscious from the collision or simply gotten trapped by an inrush of water before they could fight to a door or hatch. These guys were in their teens and twenties, with one in his thirties. They were from a variety of ethnicities, as were my shipmates years ago. "Eternal Father we call to thee, For those in peril on the sea."
