First Under the North Pole

We had gotten word that there was a vast Communist work/re-education camp being operated at the North Pole so the Sec. of the Navy dispatched my submarine, the Nautilus, to check it out and destroy it if possible. Years of fighting the Communists had taught us one thing, and that thing was that when it comes to fighting Communism there was no better thing to fight it with than a long hard stiff object that's filled with seamen.
My first mate Randy Felcher and I went over our orders in my candle lit cabin.
When the temperature dropped unexpectedly while Randy and I were going over things he and I began to shiver uncontrollably. So I suggested we shed our chilly clothes and share body heat under my wool blanket. And that's all that happened in my cabin that first night on our journey to smash Communism at the North Pole. I swear. Honest.
Word got out about the night I spent with Randy and the rest of my officers soon began badgering me for the same treatment I had given him. I'm a firm but fair leader so what was I to do, I had to treat them all the same, so I sat down with them and scheduled a time when they could all spend time in my cabin discussing the virtues of our capitalist economy while sharing body heat in my bunk while under my blanket.
However, I had to draw the line at letting the enlisted men in my cabin so I let them listen to show tunes and Billy Graham sermons on the long trip to the North Pole under the sea.

But for some reason the men grew bored and restless. It was almost as if they would have been any other place in the world than on that submarine. So I came up with a plan.

I decided to spike everyone's coffee with some super strong LSD.
I figured it would liven things up on our long journey and boy was I right!
As soon as everybody was tripping their heads off out came the guitars and we sang sea chanties and Andy Williams songs. We may have sung a Paul Williams song or two, I'm not entirely sure, it was some kick ass acid after all.We also got topless and practiced the dark tonsorial arts. Hot oil treatments were also given but that's all I'm allowed to say.
Then somewhere near the Alaskan coast, water started coming in our sub and even though we were tripping balls we plugged that leak...with CPO Sharkey's head. He loved the US Navy and he made the ultimate sacrifice for us, his shipmates. Except that it turned out that we only hallucinated the water and it ends up we killed poor Sharkey for no good reason. But seeing as how I was a commander of the vessel and the leader of my men, I ate his heart and liver so his warrior soul wouldn't go to waste. And it had the effect of showing the restless tripping crew just who was in charge.
As we approached the polar region I told the ship's chemist to make the next batch of acid stronger and he complied. So by the time we reached the polar ice cap we were so whacked out of our gourds we were seeing Commies everywhere, even behind our eye lids.
I ordered the sub to cut power so we could all chill out and come down from our LSD highs. The officers and crew drank orange juice by the gallon to purge their systems while I read them some poems by Emily Dickinson and LeRoi Jones.
After we all came down enough to function properly I ordered the ship's cook to roast that pesky albatross that had been shadowing us all the way north. Turns out albatross is mighty tasty. But it makes one thirsty as a mofro and we couldn't find any decent water to wash it down with. Oh well, life, and our mission, went on.
Once the pole was spotted we surfaced and I and my officers surveyed the barren landscape. Then we spied the Communist work/re-education camp. It was filled with midgets who were being forced to make toys while some jolly fat bastard read the Communist Manifesto aloud in a sickening monotone voice.

We quickly subdued the fat SOB
and we tried and convicted him of being an insufferable Communist asswipe. The punishment we meted out was that we marooned him on the coast of Labrador with nothing to keep him warm but a light windbreaker and a pack of matches.

The top naval brass at the Pentagon was so pleased with the job we did and my leadership that they gave me some special awards upon my return.
I got a medal and my very own negro!

And that's the story of the first trip by submarine under the North Pole.