Aristotle taught us the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts. When you think about a ship, it is not a chunk of metal. It is the heart and soul of the miners who dug the ore. It is the birthday present of the steel worker’s child purchased with his sweat. It’s the welder who was able to buy an engagement ring for his sweetie because he got a good job at the shipyard. When christened, it becomes the historical heir to it’s namesake. Over time, it becomes the collective blood, sweat, tears, hopes and dreams of the men who serve aboard her.
Well put, that is all so true. That is how I see it.
I read a story about the USS Atlanta, a light cruiser that was sunk by friendly fire early in the war in the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal (easy to understand because of the night action brawl) and the wife of one of the officers who was killed that night spoke about how they had felt like the ship was a living being, but after being sunk by their own ships and having it covered up, they were very disillusioned and felt that it was a “hunk of metal”.
They somehow felt it was bad that they were caught up in the esprit de corps of a new ship, that the families had been naive and gullible. (The ship had been christened by Margaret Mitchell, author of “Gone With The Wind”)
You are right, though, and I feel the same. It is more than the sum of its parts.