Hey kids, now some philosophers have called boats the airplanes of the sea.

But while every Glamorous Glennis has its Slo-mo-shun, so too does Jay Jay the Jet Plane have his awful awful counterpart.

Her legacy in many ways resembles my middle school career, A three-year long travesty plagued by blunder after blunder due to both gross incompetence and sheer misfortune, With the only silver lining being that it's remembered by relatively few.

Meet the U.S.S. William D. Porter, nicknamed the Willie D., Which was a perfectly acceptable alias in the days before "don't ask, don't-tell." She was a Fletcher class destroyer, which, if you know Fletcher as well as I do, you know he's pretty high-class at destroying, Like when he snapped off my DS screen during summer camp because he was trying to get a better look.

Didn't even apologize; it was just like well you are not supposed to bring video games to camp anyway, even though everyone did.

F* you Fletcher. You were a counselor; you're supposed to be more mature than us; you're the reason I grew up with a lingering resentment towards authority.

And my only reprisal is that I got to draw you as the disgusting fat lard for millions of people.

Actually I think his name was Aron. Anyway in July of 1943 the ship was commissioned by the Navy and led by Lieutenant Commander Wilfred A. Walter.

As her first real job, the Willie D was assigned to a top-secret escort mission across the Atlantic.

Walter was like: all right, man, time to prove ourselves. I want to see you all on your A-game.