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In my first career, started in 1939 I got two bottles along the way, stuck them in a closet and forgot about them. In May of 1945, off the coast of Argentina, I broke them out and we drank a toast to our fallen kameraden and floated free as our boat was scuttled to prevent capture by the victorious enemy.
It's dangerous out there :)
Makes for a neat narrative and gives that first career, which I will always remember I'm sure, a final touch. And morale was indeed sagging. Not only did the crew need to accept our defeat, which is bad enough, the cruise to South America was sixty-one days at sea, so they needed that bottle of bubbly to perk them right up haha