Amazing how a TV show can screw up your whole life.
Danny O'Shea grinned wistfully as he gazed at the squat vessel that bobbed next to the dock. He folded his hairy arms just above his ample belly, thinking back to his young carefree days in the early '60s. McHale's Navy. My God, how he loved that show. Loved it? He was obsessed with it. To the point it made him join the Navy right out of high school. Naturally, the Navy didn't have PT boats at that time. But they did have river patrol boats, and he served on a few of them in Vietnam. Those missions earned him two Silver Stars an two Purple Hearts, the latter he could have done without. Getting shot sucked! After 25 years in the Navy, he retired a Master Chief Petty Officer, and decided to build his own PT boat. And yes, he called it PT 73, after the boat Commander McHale and Ensign Parker and their crew of misfits sailed on in his favorite show. He toured all over Florida with it, giving people the history of PT boats and how important they were during World War II.
He never imagined his little floating museum would be used in a real war.
But what could he do? Sit on the sidelines while a rejuvenated Russia invaded his country? New York, Washington, Philadelphia and Charleston lay in ruin. Russian tank and infantry divisions pushed further south each day. The Red Navy roamed freely up and down the Florida coast, bombarding whatever city they wished.
Well that's about to change, you pinko bastards.
Would it really? He, his daughter and his two nephews had turned the 73 into an actual ship of war. The six .50 caliber machine guns worked. They also added a pair of M-60 light machine guns, a 75mm recoilless rifle and a captured Russian AGS-17 grenade launcher.
Oh yeah. There were also the two homemade torpedoes they had built. God only knew if they would work.
O'Shea shook his head. This is suicide.
But what choice did he have? That Kynda-class cruiser had been hammering Miami for days. Someone had to stop it, and it looked like that someone was him, his family, and their pals.
O'Shea chuckled to himself. Ernest Borgnine, you're going to be the death of me.
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