At a quiet submarine base in the Pacific in July 1945, the war still raged, but the mood had shifted. The end was near, and with it came time for reflection. Two veteran submariners sat nursing beers, their bodies young but their eyes older than they had any right to be. One of them was Chief Machinist Ray E. Cain, better known throughout the Silent Service as “Stinky.” His grin told half the story. His words, printed in the Winchester Sun that summer, told the rest.

“We’re not an ice cream navy,” he said, raising his glass. “We want a drink when we can get it.”