All of us who ever served on submarines experienced the first watch. The training we received mostly prepared us for that watch. Technical details, readings and normal operations were the expected results. But in the back of our minds, we were trained for the unexpected. What if a system failed. What if a component failed. What if we failed. Yet somehow, we made it through the first watch despite that. The period after the first watch was a relief. Someone else had it now and we would be better prepared for the next one.

Over time, each watch would give us the confidence and strength we needed to be calmer and more prepared. Of course, there were exceptions. A storm that was unexpected. A hurricane or typhoon that no one could expect. A watch-stander that wasn’t on time. An unexpected casualty. But the watch went on.

Despite the planning, regardless of the training, in spite of our readiness, there comes a day when the last watch ends. A force as old as humanity inserts itself into our lives.

That brings us to the last watch.

When that happens, the other watch-standers stand still. They are not shocked. They know that the end comes for everyone. So, they muster and stand in line to salute. They recognize their own humanity. They know their own watch will end. Yet they share a common sense of grief. And they share a tribute to a shipmate.

Thank you for your service is a common sentiment. It’s not enough when you think about it.