by M L Maki
Backes pushes the button, “Captain, we have a submarine.”
Cumberland arrives in bare feet wearing boxers and a bath robe. He walks to the table, then into sonar. “Brown, what do we got?”
“It’s a submarine. I heard it flood tanks. Two screws. Bearing is slowly shifting south.”
“Does it match a sound profile?”
“The machinery noise is close to other profiles, but the screws have changed. It sounds like twin five-bladed screws. Flow noise is down significantly.”
Morrison, in uniform, comes into control as Cumberland walks out of sonar. Morrison, “Sir, what do we have?”
“It’s either a new or heavily modified German U-boat. Make our course 110. I need to get dressed.”
“Sir, the mission?”
“I’m not dropping off SEALs with an enemy sub breathing down our throat.” Cumberland smiles and exits control.
Morrison stares at the forward bulkhead for a bit, then sighs, “Load and make ready tube 1.”
The SEALs have taken over the torpedo room. Their beds are set up among the empty torpedo racks and they’ve organized their gear for the mission. The torpedo division turns to, loading a fish into tube 1.
Lieutenant Issa, “What the fuck is going on?”
Trindle, “We’re killing another U-boat.”
Issa, “That’s not the mission.” He storms to control, but Cumberland isn’t back yet. Backes barks, “You request to enter control, Lieutenant.”
Issa takes a deep breath, “Request to enter control to enquire.”
Backes, “Enter.”
Issa goes to Morrison, “Sir, why are we loading a torpedo?”
Cumberland walks in as Morrison is answering, “Because the captain ordered us to. He does not want an enemy sub interfering with the mission.”
“Sir, we have a time line and require stealth.”
Morrison, “We are aware of that, Lieutenant.” He looks at Cumberland.
Cumberland glares at Issa, “Fucking SEALs. You belong to the Navy, Lieutenant, now clear out of control. We’ll notify you when you can proceed.”
Issa bounces on his toes, looks at Cumberland for a long moment, “Yes, sir.”
Two hours later, they are south of the estuary and within three miles of their target. It has surfaced and dived several times. Morrison, “It’s on a sea trial.”
Cumberland, “Flood tube 1 and open the doors.”
“Conn, Sonar. New contact. Bearing 030. It’s leaving port. It’s flooding ballast, sir.”
“Very well. Load and make ready tube 2.”
The SEALs are conducting their pre-mission brief when the torpedo crew interrupts them to load a second fish. Issa, “What the hell?”
Kennedy, “They found a second sub.”
Issa, “We go in three hours.”
Kennedy, “Sorry, sir. We have our orders.”
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-109
“Control, Sonar. We have a submerged target at 340. I think it flooded torpedo tubes.”
“It’s likely Otto Gericke in 503.”
“But I cannot hear him, sir.”
Bleichrodt is quiet for a moment, “Perhaps the sound isolation is working. Still, load tubes 1 and 2.”
“Conn, Sonar. A new contact at 010. It’s flooding ballast.”
“That must be Gericke submerging and we two are the only boats out here. We have hunter out here. Come to 340. Flood tubes when ready.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra 1 is flooding tubes.”
Cumberland, “Match bearings with Sierra 1 and fire tube 1.” Cumberland pushes the button. Thud, whoosh.
“Conn, Torpedo. Tube 1 fired electrically.
“Conn, Sonar. Fish is running hot, straight, and normal.”
Backes starts the countdown.
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-109
“Captain, torpedo fired. Bearing 346. Bearing is constant.”
Bleichrodt, “Blow ballast. Ahead flank. Set tube 1 and 2 to a 2-degree spread on the reciprocal course at maximum depth.”
The order is repeated back.
“Tubes are flooded.”
“Open doors.”
“Doors are open.”
“Fire tube 1 and 2.” They feel the thud, whoosh as the torpedoes fire. Moments later, they surface, “Right full rudder. Get the diesels running. Up scope.”
He spins the scope. He sees the Pointe de Raz light. “Ahead flank.” He hears the high-pitched pings of the torpedo before the diesels start.
USS SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Sonar. Torpedoes inbound. Sierra 1 is hit. She’s breaking up.”
Cumberland dances around control, “Thank you, Brown. Make our course 010. Depth 200. Ahead 2/3rd. Dodge the torpedoes, then find Sierra 2. Morrison, your boat.” He leaves the bridge.
He walks into his stateroom, locks the door, then pulls down his coveralls. He grabs a sock and a bottle of lotion, “It’s been too long. Yes.”
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-503
Kapitanleutnant Otto Gericke looks over his sonarman’s shoulder, “What is it?”
“It must be a submarine, sir. But it is extremely quiet.”
“Thank you.” He looks at his crew, “Heinrich Bleichrodt, the submarine ace is gone. It is left to us. Load all tubes. Bring us to periscope depth. We need to call in and report.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Morrison studies the chart table. “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 2 is shallowing out.”
“Very well. Flood tube 2. Match bearings for Sierra 2.” The U-boat is at the outside range of the torpedoes, but allowing the German to report in is a problem. “Captain, Sierra 2 is going shallow. They’re trying to report in. Do I have permission to fire?”
“Just a minute.” Cumberland walks in and looks at the table and torpedo status “Firing tube 2.” He pushes the button with a huge satisfied smile, “Carry on.” He walks back to his stateroom, “Fuck, yeah.
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-503
Kapitanleutnant Gericke, “Up scope. Raise the VHF antenna.”
“Captain, torpedo fired. Bearing 203. Bearing constant.”
“Understood. We go back down. Lower the scope and antenna. Let us get close to the bottom. The torpedo will pass over us.”
GERMAN LOOKOUT, ILE DE SEIN, WEST OF BREST
“Headquarters, Watch Point 1. There was an explosion to the northwest of our position. I identified a periscope, then the explosion.”
“Understood. Are there any survivors?”
“We can’t see any from here, sir.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
0613, 25 May, 1942
Morrison is studying the chart. Lieutenant Issa and HTC Fronzak walk in, “Request to enter.”
Miller, “Enter.”
Issa walks up to Morrison, “Where are we?”
Morrison, “Twenty miles out of position.”
“Conn, Sonar. New contact. Bearing 084. Designate Tango 9. It sounds like a surface ship exiting the harbor at hi revs.”
Miller, “Very well.” He looks at Morrison. Cumberland walks into control.
“Conn, Sonar. New contact. Bearing 087. Designate Tango 10. Another surface ship, sir.”
Miller, “Very well.” He looks at his CO and XO, “We kicked over a hornet’s nest.”
Issa, “Fucking hell. The operation is scrubbed.” He turns on a heel to leave.
Cumberland, “You’re out of line, Lieutenant.”
Issa, “What are you going to do about it…sir.” He walks to the aft hatch.
Cumberland, face red, “Lieutenant!”
“Fuck you, sir.”
Fronczak smiles at Cumberland, “Sir, I thought you were the silent service.” He goes out after Issa.
Morrison, “Left full rudder. Ahead standard. New course 295.”
Cumberland looks at Morrison, confused. They can hear the unmistakable ping of active sonar. Cumberland’s mouth tightens, “Evade the destroyers. Set a course for England. We’ll dump the SEAL
s on a beach somewhere.”
Morrison, “Yes, sir. That should make the captain happy.”
Cumberland stares at his XO, “Carry on.” He leaves and heads straight for torpedo. Fronczak waits outside the hatch, “You’re call, sir, but I would suggest you not go in there.”
“Why?”
“Sir, you’ve pissed off sixteen SEAL’s. If you walk in, you’ll be carried out. Do you understand me, sir?”
“You’re being insubordinate.”
“Perhaps, sir, but you’re being an idiot. Now, most folks have a survival instinct. What sort of childhood disease deprived you of one?”
Cumberland looks Fronczak in the eyes. There’s more compassion in the eyes of a shark. He turns on a heel and leaves.
STEWART FARM
1015, 27 May, 1942
Sheamus trowels mortar from a wheel barrow as Jean Luc plays nearby with his truck. He’s on the last course of a square foundation he’s putting in at a corner of their home. He took apart the corner of the porch for the eighteen square foot addition. The foundation goes three and a half feet into the ground and the walls are two feet thick. He uses a mallet to hammer the stone into place and a spirit level to check it.
Jean Luc runs out into the yard to look again. Because of trees and the roll of the land, the loch can’t be seen very well from the house. Laureen walks out into the bright sunshine bringing Sheamus a glass of cold water. She smiles at her son craning his neck trying to see.
Jean Luc turns and runs back, “It’s him! It’s him! Mommy, Mommy! It’s my sailor!”
Laureen scoops him up and walks to the edge of the yard. Jean Luc is right. The tugs are meeting the submarine in the ways.
“Is it him Mommy?”
“It is, darling son. Our sailor has returned.” She looks heavenward and smiles. The warmth of the sun caresses her face.
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Morrison is on the sail as they warp into port. It is a glorious day. This is the third time in and it is getting straight forward. He shouts, “Heave the lines.” In a short time, they are tied to the barge and hooking up services.
Lieutenant Commander Samantha Hunt walks down the brow to the barge as the SEALs un-ass the boat, “Seals to me. Commander, when will you and Commander Cumberland be available for debrief?”
Morrison, “Once we get services on and the plant shut down. About an hour, ma’am.”
“Meet us in the commander’s conference room on the Beaver.”
Issa comes up and salutes, “It was aborted, ma’am.”
“I know. You’ve an hour before the debrief. Please get your gear out and onto the Beaver. You have another mission in a few days.”
Issa smiles, “Yes, ma’am. By your leave.” He salutes.
“See you upstairs,” she smiles and returns the salute.
Morrison, Cumberland, and Issa are waiting in the conference room on the Beaver. Hunt walks in, “Commander Cumberland, you have the first go. What happened?”
Cumberland, “As we approached Brest, we encountered two U-boats. As they posed a real and significant threat to the SEALs, I engaged both boats and sank them. The Germans sortied two destroyers to look for us. The destroyers were no real threat to the San Francisco, but Lieutenant Issa chose to cancel the raid due to the destroyers.”
“Were you surprised that sinking two German subs within sight of France would result in a response?”
He looks her in the eyes, “Frankly, yes.”
“Why?”
“We’re so superior to any technology Germany fields, at this point. In truth, I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“You are aware that the Germans are developing defensive positions up and down France.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Issa, your go.”
“As he said, as soon as he picked up the subs, our mission requirements were set aside. With sonar and possible depth charges in the water, we had to abort. The element of surprise was lost. One other thing, ma’am, he tried to overrule me and send my divers out in that environment.”
“I see. Morrison, do you have anything to add?”
“One thing of note, the Germans are improving their U-boats. Both targets exhibited lower sound profiles then all the previous boats we catalogued.”
“Understood. Anything to add regarding the topic at hand?”
Morrison looks at Cumberland, then back to Hunt, “No, ma’am.”
Hunt, “Cumberland, do you recognize that your actions revealed the presence of your vessel in the vicinity of Brest?”
He stares at her, “Ma’am, do you know anything about submarine warfare? You can’t kill a sub silently.”
She meets his gaze, her face devoid of emotion, “Cumberland, answer the question.”
“I’m a commander and you…you’re a lieutenant commander.”
“I’m Captain Holtz’s chief of staff. I represent him. Answer the question.”
“Jesus Christ, they send a fucking chick airdale to teach me my job. Of course, it revealed our position. Afterward, we cleared datum. Then we lifted our skirts and scurried back to drop off your golden boys.”
Hunt continues staring at him, letting the silence hang. Then, “Issa, stow your gear here and grant your team liberty. They’re to be in uniform. The Budweiser is a naval logistics corps pin, clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her gaze never leaves Cumberland, “You may go.”
Issa and his team leave. Only Hunt, Cumberland, and Morrison are left. Hunt, “Morrison, tend to your command.”
“Ma’am?”
“Cumberland, your penchant for insubordination is not charming. You have disrespected me, but far worse, you disrespected an order from Captain Holtz. You disrupted and destroyed a timed military action. Your tactical success is now a strategic disaster. In short, you made an absolute mess of a strategic and tactical plan to take out the sub pens at Brest and fool the Germans into thinking it was done by air bombardment.”
Cumberland, “You should have….”
Hunt, “No. You did not need to know the entire plan, you only needed to follow orders. You could not even do that. That said, the question that needs to be answered is whether you should remain in command. Stay here, I have a call to make. Morrison, you have a submarine that requires your attention. Good day.” She stands and leaves.
Cumberland looks at Morrison, “She can’t relieve me. I’m senior to her.”
“Sir, the captain can. Who do you think she’s calling?”
“Who would relieve me?”
“I would, sir.”
Cumberland laughs and snorts, “You? You lack the temperament.”
“I need to go, sir. Good luck.”
Cumberland sits, stewing, for nearly an hour. He paces, cussing under his breath. Hunt finally walks back in, “Sit.”
He reddens, lowers his head, and takes a step toward her. He meets her gaze and stops, looks away, and sits down.
“I’ve discussed this matter with Captain Holtz and Admiral Klindt. They’ll be inspecting your command on the first of June. They’ll decide then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep in mind, Commander, your job hangs by a thread.”
He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “I understand, ma’am.”
“Do you, Commander? When you disrespect any part of the chain of command, you disrespect the entire chain of command. A wet behind the ears ensign knows that. For you it should be like breathing. You need to prepare your command for an inspection and to support the SEALs on their next mission. Now, will you give me a tour of your command, so I can meet your people?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
CHAPTER 34
NAVY PIER, HOLY LOCH, SCOTLAND
0830, 28 May, 1942
Brown walks to the gate carrying his bags. Laureen waits for him next to the car. As he gets closer, his smile grows. Nearing the gate, he hears, “Petty Officer Brown, what are you doing?”
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