"Let me know when we will be ready to sail Captain, I'll be in my cabin." "Aye, aye Admiral, just as soon as we have steam up," exclaimed a troubled Captain Vincent, now thankful that the new Admiral was at last going below, however he quickly added, "I'll send word." Seconds later the elderly Admiral was climbing down the steps towards the upper deck. Suddenly on looking up at the sudden noise above his head, the frail Admiral's feet stumbled on the last step or lack of a step, "bastard!" He cried as his feet failed to find the rung that should have been there, "bloody too old for this game of sailors" he mumbled."Steam up. Damn the steam, never had to wait for steam in my day," muttered the elderly Admiral as he made his way below. "What the hell did they fetch me out of retirement for? Damn this Russian war." There was no doubt that this Admiral was indeed a worried man, but was he more concerned about this new technology than the Russian navy, or how he would command such a fleet of tin kettles after so many years on the shelf? Even he did not know the answer. Yet, somehow, he was also feeling very nostalgic, especially when his feet touched the upper deck and he inadvertently glanced around at the occupied sailors getting ready to sail. Savouring those two emotions he halted for a second, his brain instinctively remembered and replaced all those busy sailor's faces with ones who had once in his youth had sailed the seas with him and now were mostly sailing across heaven without him.