CSG 4

Canadian Ship Girls 4

	Ontario groaned as she settled onto her bed, the soft surface sinking under her weight. She had just gotten done training with Haida one on one. It had been… intense. Haida seemed to be capable of training with anyone all day without feeling fatigue or soreness, though Ontario knew that couldn’t be true. Probably, maybe even. Despite the soreness, she knew that this was much needed training and that Haida was doing her damn best to get everybody in the best shape to fight and win this war.

	It had only been two weeks since Haida had arrived and despite the fierce lessons she gave Ontario was already finding her indispensable. She’d quickly made herself at home, taking the bed closest to Ontario’s room, a few storage trunks and not much else. It had taken her a few days to accept how the River girls worked, but like any good chief she had quickly adapted, suggesting a few changes to the training schedule that seemed to make the girls happier and improve their coordination. Throughout it all she’d maintained that same slightly serious, slightly bored expression. Somehow the girls took to her even though she became the disciplinarian for the group, though there were few incidents and she was exactingly fair in what punishments she doled out.

	That left her with more than a little free time, so she spent as much of her time as she could pouring through history and what they knew about abyssal threat. Thankfully she took to new technology well; most of her reading done from a small tablet device, though she’d started a small bookshelf next to her bed that was filled with a number of volumes that Ontario wasn’t sure quite how she’d gotten so quickly.

	With such help Ontario had initially had more free time, but when Haida had discovered the state of her training or lack thereof, she’d quickly made some “suggestions” and they’d begun joint training maneuvers. Honestly Ontario needed them and she told herself that repeatedly even as her sore legs throbbed and her arms screamed that they were tired from gunnery practice. Thankfully Haida was a good teacher and Ontario a quick study, though she had to practice long range gunnery herself, Haida’s guns being much lighter and lacking nearly 10,000 yards max range, that being before you counted accurate range, stability and all the other minutiae that went into naval gunnery.

	Sighing, Ontario forced herself up and towards her desk. There was still paperwork she needed to fill out and reports to be filed for the Admiralty. Haida had started to sort through some of the reports and summarize them for her, but Ontario still had to file them directly.

	Half an hour into her work there was a knock on her door and then a stone faced Haida came into the room without waiting for her to answer.

	“Lieutenant,” she said, “There’s been an incident.”

	“What happened?” asked Ontario, turning her chair away from her desk and focusing on Haida.

	“One of the convoys got hit,” said Haida, after making sure the door was closed, “Surface raiders. Just came in over the radio, I happened to have my rig on when it happened. No firm reports on casualties yet, but at least one of our girls got hit. Sounded like some of the German girls got beat up too.”

	Ontario winced when Haida mentioned surface raiders. Every ship in the group had exactly one four inch gun and nothing else worth mentioning. Even a destroyer group would be able savage them with ease.

	“Nothing else at all?” asked Ontario, standing to grab her cap and then head to HQ.

	“Not yet at least,” said Haida, who was chewing on the end of her pipe, as she didn’t smoke inside around the girls, “Though we’ll probably be hearing something soon.”

	“Alright,” said Ontario as she set her cap properly on her head and moved towards the door, “Keep a lid on it for now until I can get something official, then I’ll tell the girls.”

	“Yes Ma’am,” said Haida, throwing off a quick salute to her before the door opened.

	Ontario returned it before striding out of the door with a fake smile plastered on her face so the girls hopefully wouldn’t notice that something was wrong until they had more answers.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

	Three days later Ontario was standing on the end of one of the piers on base with Haida and several officers from CFB Halifax, watching as HMCS Winnipeg docked, the ship one of the seven remaining “real” surface combatants in the RCN. Winnipeg had been diverted from its normal patrol route to pick up the wounded girls and their German counterparts and bring them back to Halifax.

	Though the crew was quick and efficient about their docking, it still seemed to take forever to Ontario, as she wanted to see her girls. It had come down that none of them had been sunk, but one had been battered badly by near misses and a few light hits and most of the rest had taken various levels of damage. Further reports said that one of the German girls had taken a rather nasty hit to her engines, so there were medical and engineering personnel standing by if they were necessary.

	Finally the Winnipeg was properly secured to the pier and a gangway moved to her side, allowing a small crowd of people to disembark. First down were a pair of sailors carrying a stretcher that had a quite awake and lively Montreal. She had reportedly been the worst beat up of all the escorts, but she was squirming like the little girl she looked like as soon as she saw Ontario.

	“Auntie!” she cried out, attempting and then failing to sit up until one of the officers waved them to a stop and the stretcher stopped.

	“Montreal,” said Ontario as she approached the stretcher, taking in the brace on the girls leg and an arm in a sling, along with the entirely too large patients gown she was wearing, “How are you feeling?”

	“I’m fine!” said the girl, who wiggled her foot and glared at the arm sling, “They won’t let me swim or run anymore and they took away my jersey!”

	Ontario looked to one of the men carrying her and he shook his head. “We brought her on board with a broken leg and arm ma’am, she was in no condition to go anywhere. She says she’s better but the Doc wanted to run some test to make sure since we uh… still don’t know how all that works exactly.”

	Ontario nodded, even the girls didn’t know how much of them worked like a human and how much worked like a ship, even if they did have crews.

	“Thank you, Seaman,” she said, before turning back to Montreal, who was pouting. “You’ll just have to wait until the doctors say you’re better Montreal, I’m sure we can get you a new jersey though.”

	“Fine~” pouted Montreal, which along with a nod from Ontario got the seamen moving again towards the vehicle waiting to take them to the base medical center.

	As Montreal was carried away, Ontario turned to find HMCS Trentonian standing there with what appeared to be Montreal’s shredded Canadiens jersey in her hand, the girl looking up at her with slightly quivering eyes.

	“Auntie…” she said, rushing forwards to give her a hug, the messed up cloth being thrown over her back.

	“Are you alright?” asked Ontario, knowing Trentonian had been sunk before during the latter stages of WWII.

	“Yeah…” said the little girl, sniffling a little bit, “It was scary, we couldn’t even shoot at them, but they saved us.” Trentonian turned and pointed to the final batch of girls down the ramp.

	The first thing she noticed was the one with the hit; she was the most nervous looking and favoring her right foot, which was still wrapped up in bandages that seemed to be damp with either blood or oil, while leaning against one of her friends. The other thing that she noticed was that all four of them looked remarkably similar. All four were petite, with the blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to be more common among the German ships than anywhere else. One seemed to be slightly more mature, more confident than the others, a look in her eyes that she’d seen things in her previous life. There were three of the Corvette dogs with them, all of them clustered close around the wounded girl.

	“Are they nice?” Ontario asked the little frigate girl, who nodded, her sniffing calming down. Ontario smiled then and patted her on the head, “Why don’t you go tell everyone else then, I’m sure they’re going to be nervous meeting everybody.” Trentonian nodded, the little girl scurrying off towards the barracks which was relatively nearby, even as more people came down from the Winnipeg.

	As the four girls and three dogs approached her, most of the sailors giving them a bit of room, Ontario saluted them, causing the more mature one to stop and salute in return, quickly followed by the other three.

	“My name is Sub-Lieutenant Ontario,” she said formally before lowering her salute, “And I want to both welcome you to Halifax and thank you for saving my girls out there.”

	“U-318,” said the more mature one, “These are U-317, 319 and 320.” She pointed to the girl supporting the wounded girl, the wounded girl and the one who was watching the dogs warily, “It is a pleasure to meet you, but could we be shown to our quarters? 319 needs to rest.”

	“Yes of course,” said Ontario, “We’ve made beds ready for you in our barracks, many of our girls are looking forwards to meeting you.” She paused and looked at the wounded U-319. “Are you sure you don’t want to get a stretcher or something? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

	“We… we did not want to be a burden on your crew,” said 319, her voice still a little pained, “It is nothing, I will be fine after some rest…”

	One of the Corvette’s interrupted her with a bark, butting lightly up against her side as people continued to flow around them. 320 seemed to flinch a bit at the bark, then another of the trio brushed up against her, nuzzling her hand with its big head.

	“They seem quite attached to you,” said Ontario, looking between the girls as 319 rested a hand on the dog beside her and 320 attempted to scoot away, but grudgingly gave the dog a few scratches.

	“They were the ones closest to the raider when it came in,” said 318, “Under the most fire. Since our torpedo’s chased it off they’ve stuck by us.”

	The dog under 319 ruffed, butting up against her again.

	“They also keep doing that,” said 317, openly petting the one standing beside her, “We don’t know why.”

	“I think they’ve adopted you,” said Ontario looking at the three, then at 319, “They do that sometimes, it comes with being an escort ship.”

	“And the headbutting?” asked 320.

	“They probably want you to ride them,” replied Ontario, switching her gaze to 320 before going back to 319, “Some of the girls do it and since they’re rescue dogs and escorts, they can tell you’re hurt.”

	“R-ride them?” said 320, who had distractedly sunk her hand into the corvette’s shaggy mane and begun scratching, “B-but they’re…”

	“Adorable, sweet, and only attacked you because that’s how they say hello,” commented 317, who looked over at Ontario, “This is only 320’s second patrol, you know how they are for the new girls.”

	“They’re still ASW corvette’s…” said 320, suddenly realizing she’d been happily petting the dog and withdrawing her hand, only for the corvette to lick her hand and demand more pets.

	“Can they actually support us, though?” asked 319, looking at the dog standing and panting happily next to her.

	“I don’t see why not,” said Ontario, glancing at 318, who seemed slightly concerned, “The girls are about your size, in gear they mass more and I’ve seen one of them get drug along by them.”

	319 looked at 317, something unspoken going through their eyes, then 317 helped 319 slide onto the back of the Newfie, which easily supported her weight. Once she wrapped her legs around it and placed her hands on its neck, the small girl looked like she was riding a small horse rather than a dog.

	Once she’d settled in the dog woofed happily and began trotting only pausing when it got to Ontario and panting at her. Ontario looked at 318, who seemed slightly confused by the whole thing, but simply nodded.

	“If you’ll follow me then I’ll lead you to the barracks,” said Ontario, waiting only until the German girls began following her to start striding away. The girls and the dogs managed to keep up with her, 317 deciding to hop on her own Newfoundland and ride with her wounded sister, who managed a smile out of the whole thing. As they walked they passed many members of the RCN, all of whom at least waved at the girls politely, a few greeting Ontario by name.

	318, who was walking beside her, glanced up at Ontario as they neared the ship girl barracks.

	“They don’t seem nervous around you,” she commented.

	“Why would they?” said Ontario, looking to the small German girl, “We’re on the same side, the same service. Everyone pulls together.”

	“That is… not what we are used to,” said 318, looking over at 317 and 319 who seemed to be having fun waving at all the sailors who passed by and then to 320, who was glancing at the newfie by her side as if she was contemplating something similar despite her earlier show of dislike towards the corvettes.

	“I don’t think what we have here is probably normal,” said Ontario as she opened up the door to the barracks and let the Germans go through first, “We make it work though.”

	U-319 and 317 went in first, their noble steeds panting and happy to go “home” with them, 320 and 318 stepping inside just after. Ontario was just about to go inside as well when a massive wall of little girl voices yelling, “THANK YOU!!!!” came out the door.

	Stepping inside Ontario saw that the River girls had managed to complete their giant welcome banner, which was decorated in all sorts of things, with a big “Thank You!” painted in bright colors as the centerpiece.

	“Was… was ist das?” said 318, slipping back into her native tongue out of surprise.

	“Excuse me?” asked Ontario, even as dozens of little girls and dogs swarmed towards their new guests.

	“What is this?” asked 318, as several River girls circled around her and offered up pictures and drawings.

	“They wanted to say thank you for saving their sisters and friends,” said Ontario, reaching down to pat the head of Trentonian, who’d once more come up and buried her face in her side, though one eye was on 318, “Is that so strange?”

	318 looked over to her sisters, all three of which were surrounded by effusively praising little girls and happy dogs who occasionally woofed and alternated between licking and sniffing their guests. One of the girls finally managed to get 318 to take her picture, which was a remarkably decent drawing of four brave looking girls standing in front of several smaller ones, throwing several oblong objects that were supposed to be torpedo’s at monsters who were apparently running away at full speed.

	Ontario watched as 318 sniffed and tried to hold in her emotions, letting one hand rest on the head of the small River girl, who merely smiled and wrapped 318 in a hug. Finally the German girl managed to speak, her voice nearly cracking.

	“No, no I suppose not,” she said.

							/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Soon the massive greeting at the door changed into a mostly normal atmosphere for the barracks, which just meant that the girls ran between their German guests or played with each other instead of swarming all at once. 319 was securely placed in one of the beds with her foot propped up, “her” newfie sitting near the head of her bed and resting its head near her pillow. 317 and 320 had been drawn into drawing and playing a game of Uno respectively and 318 had managed to mostly escape from the crowd and joined Ontario and Haida near the edge of the gathering. Stettler, New Glasgow and Swansea had joined them, taking a brief moment to enjoy attention from Ontario and Haida that normally went to the other girls.

	“You all seem so… happy,” said 318, one of the newfie’s having taken a liking to her and sitting its big head in her lap.

	“They are,” said Haida, who was idly playing with her pipe, “The little ones don’t care too much about anything if they aren’t on duty.”

	“We have worries,” said Ontario, rubbing Stettler’s back as New Glasgow lay in her lap, “Me and Haida have to write reports, these three help us corral the others.”

	“They can be a handful,” said Swansea, “They’re good girls, though.”

	“Still…” said 318, “You do not seem too concerned about anything else. Back in England everyone is worried, nobody seems to know what to do with us.”

	“I suppose that’s because we know where we stand,” said Ontario, “Canada needs her shores and shipping lanes kept open, her people know that, our admirals know that and we know that. So we all work together to make it happen.”

	“That… sounds nice,” said 318, her hand going dead on the newfies head.

	“Is it not like that for you?” asked Haida, her mind as sharp as always.

	“There is a reason we aren’t based in the Fatherland,” said 318 wistfully, “It is not because England needs us more. They… despise seems like the wrong word. They are afraid of us, ashamed of their own past so they try to shuffle us away to where we cannot be seen.” She paused, then resumed scratching the dog as it licked her hand and whimpered. “I am sure some of them would be happy to see us all slip back under the waves once more.”

	There was a brief pause as the Canadian girls digested the news, as they hadn’t heard such statements before.

	“What about the English?” asked New Glasgow, “Are they…”

	“Your cousins are very polite,” said 318, “We are honored adversaries to them, not enemies. Still, being so close to the Fatherland and not even being allowed to visit… England is not much better, many are scared we will turn into abyssals, a few still remember the stories of their grandparents and the U-boat scourge, so we aren’t very welcome off base.”

	“It’s nothing like that here,” said Ontario, part of her rather upset at the treatment the German girls had received, part of her wanting to show them better, “Admiral Norman speaks to me regularly and everyone is happy to have us around. Canada has lots of coast that needs to be covered and even though we can’t cover it all, most of the people are happy to know we’re around.” She gestured towards the group of girls around 319, several of which were wearing hockey jerseys. “Some of them have even been formally adopted by their local hockey teams.”

	“Yeah, like the Sub-Lieutenant over there,” said Haida with a grin, “She was the first, she just doesn’t talk about it very much.”

	Ontario colored very faintly around her cheeks. “Simply because I need to maintain my image as an officer for the girls, I have nothing against being… adopted.”

	“The girls couldn’t care less about what your image was,” said Haida, with the other three girls trying to hide their smiles and mostly failing, “You are and always will be “Auntie” to them; it doesn’t matter what you wear.”

	318 managed to smile at that, even as Ontario continued to blush. “We of course have our leaders, but Frau Bismarck… she is under too much stress, I think, trying to hold the morale of everyone else especially since she is the only one who speaks to ambassador.”

	“You have morale issues?” asked Ontario.

	“Ah… ,” said 318, suddenly quieting, “I have said too much.”

	“Covering it up isn’t going to help anything,” said Haida, sticking her pipe in her mouth, “Talking about it is one of the best ways to start fixing it.”

	“You are… not wrong,” admitted 318, “But there is little we can do in England, our hosts are busy enough as it is and they are trying to rebuild much with little.”

	“What about here?” asked Ontario, causing 318 to look at her.

	“What about here?” asked 318.

	“Like you said, there is plenty of happiness here,” said Ontario, waving towards 318 who was currently having some paper garlands put around her head and smiling like a loon, “You could send some of your girls over; we have plenty of room.”

	“I… I do not think that would be allowed…” said 318, “Our orders…”

	“Screw your orders,” said Haida, leaning back against her bedpost, “So a few of you have “Mechanical issues” every now and then and spend a few days here to get your spirits back up, nobody’ll notice.”

	“But…” said 318.

	“We’d love to see more of you,” said Ontario, “The girls are always excited to have guests.”

	“Still…” said 318, only to have the very exuberant Montreal run over and dropping a paper hat onto her head.

	“You should come play with us!” she said, pointing to 320, who was currently losing badly at Uno but clearly having a good time.

	318 couldn’t help but smile and then nodded to Montreal, “I’ll be over in a little bit,” she said, to which Montreal smiled in return and then ran back to the group excitedly.

	Ontario just smiled at 318, who watched as 320 got hit with a draw four and simply laughed as she had nearly half the deck in her hand at this point.

	“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” said 318 quietly, “If we were to have… mechanical issues.” She looked at Ontario, “Our sisters, they could come, too?”

	Ontario nodded, “We’re all sisters in this fight,” she said, “We’d be happy to help in any way we can.”

	“I see…” said 318, before standing up with a bit of a groan, “I shall have to discuss this with everyone, but I think the outcome will be somewhat positive.” She paused, “Some of us our looking for anything good, I think we may have found it.”

	With that she walked over to the group playing Uno and Montreal promptly sat on her lap, the newfie following after her and laying its head on her knee.

	Ontario watched a little bit, New Glasgow having fallen asleep in her lap.

	“You think they’ll actually take you up on your offer?” asked Haida.

	“I think they will,” said Ontario as 320 managed to finally use some of her cards on 318, “Even if it’s just a few of them.” She turned to look at Haida, who had her eyes closed as Swansea leaned against her, “What do you think, Chief?”

	“I think,” said Haida, propping one eye open, “That you might want to ask Admiral Norman for an increased budget for provisions. Just in case of course, our girls get hungry with all the patrolling they do.”

	“Right,” said Ontario, turning back to the cheerful group in the middle of the room, “Patrolling.”

	Haida just let the corner of her mouth crook in a small grin, “Right, Lieutenant, patrols.”

							/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

	Five days later when the next convoy was headed out of Halifax, Ontario and the rest of the River girls sent off U-318 and her sisters, 319 having healed up nicely in the intervening time period. They left much cheerier than they had when they arrived, each of them promising to visit again when they could.

	A few days after that, four more German girls arrived, 318 apparently having gotten started on her way back. Despite the lack of warning, they were welcomed like old friends and treated like new ones, the River girls as always rushing around in happiness as they got to play, the ones who had been out on patrol or escort duty happy to have their own experience of new friends coming to visit.

	Five days later another group arrived just as the second group left, leaving 	no time for a cleanup from the going away party, which simply segued back into a welcome party. Ontario and Haida found themselves a little bit busy making sure that everything was ordered on time, but the German girls asked for little and the sight of their faces slowly changing from constantly worried about something to smiling and happy was worth every extra minute of work.

	A little over a month later and they’d gone through nearly forty U-boat girls visiting them as various convoys came, arrived and left with different escort groups. The River girls by this point had developed cheering up the German girls into its own game, one which they competed in happily. It had been determined that the corvette dogs were still one of their main weaknesses, with dog rides coming in a close second to visits around town to Tim Hortons and a few bars for the girls that liked to have a stiff drink. The people of Halifax had been extremely welcoming to their guests, individual places doing their best to serve the ship-girls just like normal customers, which was helped by Canada’s pre-disposition towards adopting them as mascots.

							/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

	Waking up early one morning only a couple days past their last arrival, Ontario proceeded with her morning routine. First she checked if any of the girls were in her bed, two this morning, then carefully crawled out over them. She managed to put on her uniform and put her hair into a manageable ponytail without waking them and then opened the door. Yawning sleepily she walked out of her room to see that Haida’s bed was empty like normal. That meant coffee, which was good.

	She walked down the dimly lit barracks, passing girls sleeping in their beds. The German girls were in the ones they’d started to reserve for guests, two of them with Newfoundland’s acting as large fuzzy blankets, the other four with dogs under their bed. The dogs had slowly started to move into the main barracks from the kennels, which meant more cleaning, but the increase in morale for everyone was worth it.

	Making it down to the end of the barracks and to the kitchen, Ontario found Haida making coffee. She wouldn’t tell Ontario exactly how to make it, stating that it was a “Chief’s secret” but she made enough for both of them.

	“Morning Chief,” said Ontario even as Haida passed her a large mug full of what some people would probably consider engine oil, but she knew was just the right thing for an early morning.

	“Morning Sub-Lieutenant,” said Haida, sipping at her own cup, “Any changes to the schedule today?”

	“Not yet Chief,” said Ontario as she let the taste of the coffee roll through her and shivered a bit, “I haven’t checked my e-mail, so it could still change.”

	“Right, you do that then,” said Haida, as she started walking down the rows of beds, “I’m going to wake the girls up and get breakfast going.”

	“Roger that Chief,” said Ontario, stepping past Haida as she shook each of the River girls awake, starting with Stettler, Swansea, and New Glasgow. Making her way into her room once more Ontario shook awake the two girls in her bed and got them going before she plopped down in front of her computer, another sip of Chief level coffee brushing away most of the cobwebs in her head.

	Waking up her computer and booting up email program, she noticed that she had received an email addressed from Admiral Norman marked *URGENT, OPEN IMMEDIATELY*. Following her orders she clicked on the link, which contained only a forwards from Norman and all of those that had sent it to him, starting with  First Sea Lord of the Royal Navy, going up to the Ambassador’s from both England and Germany to Canada, including the English Secretary of Defense and contained a small affirmation from the Bundeswehr Militärischer Führungsrat, which Ontario was pretty sure was the current German Military High Command. Whatever it was it was clearly important and Ontario began to read, her mind still processing the magnitude of the names attached to the email.

	“Due to widespread and chronic mechanical failures in your area of operations, the battleship Bismarck, along with her escorts the cruisers Prinz Eugen and Blucher have requested and been allowed to conduct a personal inspection of all facilities pertaining to ship girls at CFB Halifax. All officers and crew are to extend them their every cooperation during their stay. Expected arrival is five days from now, visit lasting at least forty eight hours and no more than five days.”

	As Ontario read the names once again attached to the bottom of the email, including Admiral Norman and the governor general, she began to plan ahead for the upcoming visit as she took another sip from her mug. Three guests mean three beds, three more meals, and she’d have to schedule around training to make sure she was available for Bismarck to talk too… Her mind suddenly caught up to what she had read, causing her to nearly spit out her coffee and read it again to make sure she hadn’t misread something.

	Bismarck, the Bismarck was coming to see Halifax. Not only was she the de-facto head of the returned Kreigsmarine girls whatever the email she’d gotten claimed, she was a legend in her own right, alongside the likes of Hood, Warspite, Iowa and Yamato. She was coming to see Ontario’s barracks, Ontario’s girls and find out why so many of the U-boat girls were having “mechanical difficulties.”

	Ontario had the sudden image of fifty thousand tons of angry German coming at her at thirty knots, fifteen inch guns bellowing anger and death. Then she remembered that Bismarck wasn’t coming alone, but was bringing two escorts, both of whom carried twice her tonnage and just as much speed. If measured by weight, the three German girls would match comparably to the entire returned Canadian Navy and that was before even considering that only Ontario and Haida would have a chance to hurt one of them if it had ever come down to an actual shooting match.

	Forcing herself to calm down, Ontario called out her door.

	“Chief, I need you in here now!” she said, her voice somehow carrying the authority that it should so as not to scare her girls.

	Haida was by her side in less than thirty seconds, shutting the door as Ontario gestured for her to do so.

	“Something wrong, Sub-Lieutenant?” asked Haida.

	“Bismarck is coming to personally inspect Halifax,” said Ontario simply, gesturing at her computer screen, “She will be here in five days along with escorts.”

	Haida paused, the closest thing to surprise Ontario had seen out of her since she returned.

	“The Bismarck?” asked Haida, “Tall blonde German girl with an alcohol problem and fifteen inch guns? That Bismarck?”

	“Yes Chief, that Bismarck,” said Ontario, “Along with Prinz Eugen and Blucher.”

	“May god save the Queen and all her men,” muttered Haida, “You think they brought along enough weight of fire?”

	“It’s not so much their weight of fire I’m concerned about,” said Ontario, “It’s more the pressure they can put on those poor U-boat girls. You’ve seen them when they come in Chief, I don’t know if we do a lot but they need every bit of help they can get.”

	“Aye,” said Haida, pulling out her pipe and chewing on it, “No disputing that. What do you want to do about the visit though? None of the have breakdowns and we can’t fake them even if we wanted to.”

	Ontario paused, thinking a bit.

	“We’ll just have to show them that what we do is necessary,” said Ontario, looking at Haida, “Their girls need a break when they can get one and we’ve got the facilities, girls and people to do it.”

	“So you want to sell R&R at a foreign military base and port to a girl who hasn’t been allowed to see her homeland since she arrived,” said Haida.

	“Yes,” said Ontario, her mind racing now, “Home is what they’re missing. The only ones who’ve even seen Germany were those who arrived near the shore, most of them haven’t gotten near it. England can’t, they’re too busy trying to rebuild and people are scared. Here…”

	“We didn’t get hit that bad comparatively, people are adopting the girls left and right and everyone loves having another girl out their protecting them,” said Haida, “Even if they are technically German.”

	“Exactly,” said Ontario, “So we convince Bismarck this is a good thing, get her approval and maybe even make this official. Germany seems eager to send their girls as far away as possible so I don’t see them objecting.”

	“What about Admiral Norman?” asked Haida.

	“He’ll agree,” said Ontario, “Every girl in Canadian waters is another bit of pressure off his back.”

	“So all we have to do is convince Bismarck,” said Haida.

	“Yes,” said Ontario, “It won’t be easy but I think we can do it. I’ll need your help though Chief.”

	“Anything you need, Sub-Lieutenant,” said Haida, giving her a salute.

	Ontario smiled, returning the gesture. It would be a bit of a stretch, but she was confident that she could get Bismarck to see things her way.