by Unknown
Strasser made his way topside and looked out. All he could see was devastation. When the second set of shocks came, he made up his mind. Turning to the Chief standing next to him he ordered, “Light off the forward group. Take whoever you need, but we need to get the ship up and running. I have a feeling these people are going to need all the help they can get.” The Chief quickly made his way to the 1MC on the bridge and called a meeting of all the detachment and museum personnel on the messdecks. Enlisting the help of the museum staff, within a few minutes, several men were seen in safety gear taking the canvas cover off the forward stack.
Strasser saw Patricia Hammond as she made her way toward the ship. He met her on the brow. “I figure you need us,” he said.
“Bill, anything you can do will be appreciated. I don’t know how many are hurt or homeless, but we can expect a lot of people over the next few days,” she said.
He smiled at her. “That’s what we’re here for. I’m getting the engineering plant online. It will take about four hours, but once the generators are going, we’ll be able to handle it.”
Patricia Hammond smiled at the man. “Thanks Bill. I need all the help I can get.”
The two made their way into the dimly lighted interior of the ship. Until the ship’s main generators could come online, they wouldn’t have complete power, but that part was already underway.
The White House
Jim Butler rushed into the oval office. “Steve, there’s been a major quake in southern California. According to the folks at USGS, it measured a 9 on the Richter scale. The epicenter was almost directly under San Pedro.”
The President got up from his chair. “Let’s get Homeland Security on it. I’m sure they are going to need tents and cots. Military units in the area are authorized to help out. Get me the governor on the line and we’ll see what he needs,” he barked.
Butler nodded and ran back to the outer office to get things going. Within minutes the President’s phone rang with the call to the governor. “Governor, I wanted to see what help you needed,” he said.
“Help for what?” came the surprising answer from the other end.
The President stared at his handset for a second. “I was just informed of a major earthquake near Los Angeles, and thought you might need some assistance,” he said incredulously.
“First I’ve heard of it. We have these things all the time. We’ll probably be able to handle it.”
The President couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I was told it was a 9 on the Richter Scale. In that area, there may be a lot of casualties,” he said.
“Right now I’m at an event. Let me check on things and get right back to you,” the governor said almost nonchalantly.
“You do that,” he said as he hung up the phone. “Jim!” he almost screamed through the still open door.
Butler appeared at the doorway. “Yes, sir.”
“The Governor of California is an idiot. You know he just told me not to worry about it! He’s going to check on some things and get back to me. How the hell did he get elected?”
Butler had never seen his boss so mad. He gave a slight sigh. “Boss, he ran on a reform platform that the people of California ate up. From what I hear, he’s been screwing up things ever since. Let me get hold of the Marine Base at Camp Pendleton. The CO down there will know what to do.”
O’Bannon was still upset, but nodded his head. “That’ll work. I need to know what those poor people are up against. Then maybe somebody who cares will step in,” he said.
Frankfurt, Germany
The phone on the side of his bed rang and a groggy man pulled the receiver to his ear. “Hammond,” he croaked out.
“Roger, this is Rod. There’s been a big quake in San Pedro.”
Hammond’s eyes blinked open immediately. “What have you heard?”
“It’s a bad one, a 9 on the Richter Scale. I called down to Pendleton and talked to the duty officer. He says it almost flattened San Pedro and a good chunk of Los Angeles. I just saw a news clip and I saw Patricia directing the efforts from the ship. Your son was sitting in a chair in the background. There aren’t any phones much and I left a message on her cell. I’ll keep trying until I get her,” Jeffers said. Hammond could tell by the urgent sound of his voice that he was very concerned.
“Rod, you said you saw her, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then don’t worry. As long as I know she’s out there doing her job, everything will be okay. Try to get a message to the ship and let her know that I know and will be home as soon as I can. Also tell them to get hold of Boats Patnaude. He might be able to get them all the help they need in the short run. And Rod, Patricia is a strong woman. As long as she is walking around, she will be fine. So don’t worry. I appreciate you letting me know. If you hear more, give me a shout. Okay?”
On the other end of the line he heard a short sigh. “Yes, sir. I just thought you needed to know,” Jeffers said.
Hammond chuckled. “I did, and I appreciate it. I just have a lot of faith in my wife. Your seeing them both makes it a lot easier for me. Now relax. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he reassured Jeffers.
“Good night, Boss,” said Jeffers.
“Good night.” The line went dead and Hammond lay back against his pillow. They had both talked about when the “big one” might happen and what would need to be done. It looked like she was following the plan. She and his son were aboard the Iowa and she was probably moving heaven and earth for the people of her town. A smile crossed his face. Heaven help anyone who might get in her way, he thought.
San Pedro, California
True to his word, by 8 pm, the lights aboard USS Iowa came on again. Down below, the ship’s turbo-generators were cranking out the electricity. Temporary electric lines had already been run to light up the huge parking lot next to the ship and down to the cruise terminals. Suddenly the lights all came on and people in the ground began to cheer. The Red Cross had set up some tents and cots, but the main thing was to get services back up. The parking lot was already full of people who were now homeless or injured. Word had come that the hospital was full of injured. A crew of doctors had been detailed to the Iowa and had set up in the ship’s sickbay.
Within two hours of the quake, the call went out via messenger for any of the local chefs and their restaurant staff in town to come help. Local restaurants emptied their now thawing freezers and brought the food to the ship. They descended on the ship’s galley and began to get things ready. Once power came on, they began to cook. By ten that evening, people were invited to come aboard and eat. The food was better than what many had ever experienced, and within two hours, everyone had been fed.
The crew’s berthing spaces were filled with families and the elderly, while single men and women were assigned cots in the parking lot. There were water and toilet facilities. By midnight, everything had calmed down and the area became quiet. As more people filed in, they were processed and given a place to rest. Once the cots were filled, the air mattresses were handed out, then people had to sit in chairs. Most simply grabbed a blanket and lay down.
Beginning around 2 am, a few cars began to appear and park along the street. The ship didn’t need to call anyone to come in. Some of the old crew saw the news and were already making their way. By morning, there were enough to give the detachment a break, taking over duties in the engine and firerooms. By four am, the smell of fresh bread was making its way through the ship, just as it had while she was active. Several local bakers had marveled at the equipment, especially a dough mixer that had the stamp, “1943” on its side. They would have enough bread for at least 10,000 people by morning.
When word came that the city’s water mains could not provide any water, the engineers had told them not to worry. The ship’s evaporators were producing thousands of gallons each hour. There should be enough for a while.
At around 1 am, Patricia Hammond finally took the time to get some sleep. LCDR Strasser led he
r to the captain’s cabin. She had already put Little Steve on a cot in the bedroom. The idea of him sleeping in his Daddy’s room aboard the ship thrilled him. He was sleeping peacefully when she entered the room. She removed her clothing and slid under the sheets. Tomorrow would come much too soon.
Cape Canaveral Air Force Base
The Atlas rocket lit up the night sky as it lifted from its pad. This was the latest version of the venerable rocket, but even it could not lift this load on its own. Two additional solid fuel rockets were strapped to each side. The combined thrust was able to lift the satellite rapidly into the sky. A minute later, the spent solid rockets dropped away and the first stage separated. The second stage fired normally pushing its payload further and faster out over the Atlantic.
There was actually a small third stage to this rocket. It was able to boost the satellite the rest of the way until it achieved a stationary orbit precisely 100 miles away from a sister satellite and come to a relative stop.
Almost immediately panels on the sides opened and six solar arrays opened to their full length on the upper end of the satellite and pointed themselves to the sun, while below them, small radio dishes emerged and unfolded to aim their signals toward earth. One in particular pointed its circular dish toward Langley, Virginia.
At CIA headquarters, technicians began to cheer as an activation signal was received. “Sir, Eyeball Six has achieved orbit successfully and is ready for startup,” one of the technicians said to her supervisor.
The supervisor grinned. “Then let’s wake her up. Bring the systems online and link it to number five. Then begin running your tests.”
The appropriate orders were sent and the satellite began powering up. The supervisor watched as all the satellite’s systems came online as expected, then reached down and lifted the receiver of the phone by his seat. “Sir, the eyeballs are in the sky.”
Moscow, Russia
It wasn’t a very large group, just about one hundred people. They carried signs protesting the military buildup and demanding the funds be used to help ordinary citizens. Through the Soviet era, demonstrations were something planned and orchestrated by the government in almost all cases, but since the fall of the Soviet Union, people had come to know certain freedoms and to expect more from their government. Many students had come to detest the mandatory military service. In the past it had only been for one year, but now the youth of Russia were expected to stay for as long as the government wanted them. For some, this had meant years of service with practically no pay, hard taskmasters and few luxuries. Most could not even go out in local towns for some time off. Access to cell phones made this worse, since they often complained to their friends and families back home.
Although they had been warned that the government would not allow such demonstrations, most had happened with little result. Yet, the young men and women and a few older Russians marched along, holding up their signs and chanting slogans like, “Send our soldiers home,” or “We don’t want to serve.” The onlookers on the streets sympathized with the marchers, but didn’t pay much attention. It was a Friday night and they were out to party.
Suddenly a large truck pulled around a corner and blocked the way for the protesters. Out came police officers in riot gear, filling the street and holding up shields. One of the officers held up a loudspeaker. “This is an illegal demonstration. You are ordered to disperse at once,” he shouted to the crowd. The crowd stopped, but stood their ground, shouting louder toward the line of police. They were warned a second time. None of the protesters noticed a second truck pulling up behind them. Now heavily armed police were on both sides of the crowd. The students stood their ground, taunting the police.
No one knew who threw the beer bottle. It struck one of the clear plastic shields of the police officer and shattered, spilling beer all over the shield and the officer’s legs. The officers rushed the small crowd of demonstrators, drawing their night sticks and clubbing each one they came in contact with. The students tried to run, but by now, they were surrounded and there was no place to go.
It lasted ten minutes. When the officers finished, there were two dead and another fifty seriously injured. Those not hurt and those less seriously injured were taken away. The rest were left bleeding on the pavement. Now the onlookers rushed in and began trying to help those on the streets. Police officers rushed them as well, telling them to leave the people alone until more help could get there. A few made it into some of the local shops. One had been carrying a video camera. Others had used their cell phones.
The onlookers became more outraged. They began screaming at the police remaining to let them help the injured. Seeing they were largely outnumbered, the police finally gave in and let them carry the students off to the local hospital. One young man insisted that his rescuer take him to the foreign media center. There, he handed his camera and footage to the local CNN staff member on duty. Within ten minutes it was worldwide news.
Frankfurt, Germany
The meetings and briefings lasted all day, yet the officers in the darkened room felt exhilarated. Each had been eager to tell their new commander what they were planning and both Hammond and Richardson had asked all the right questions, even sharing some of their concerns and ideas in the process. Richardson, in particular, had gotten into a lively conversation about tank deployments. Dortmund was surprised to know she had studied German battle tactics.
Now the group was trying to figure out the next steps. Hammond was slightly concerned that the men in the room were still thinking in large group engagements. But it was difficult to wrap your hands around the fact that they were expecting to meet an enemy with a 10 to 1 superiority in men and equipment. At one point Hammond interrupted.
“As I look at where you want to deploy your people, it is looking more like you are concentrating on just this one area,” he said pointing at the map. “How do you plan on accomplishing this?”
General Dortmund chuckled. “We Germans learned that lesson in the last big one,” he said referring to the Second World War. “We are deploying tanks along the borders in Austria and in areas of the Polish mountains in several key locations. If the Russians are looking, and I believe they are, then they will avoid these areas at all costs.”
Richardson looked concerned. “How many tanks are you able to put in these areas?” she asked.
There was a twinkle in Dortmund’s eye. “Around ten thousand. We call them Patton’s Army.”
At first Richardson looked confused. There weren’t that many tanks in all of Europe. Then suddenly her expression changed. “Brilliant!” she exclaimed.
Hammond still looked confused.
Richardson sat back. “In the Second World War an army was fielded under the command of George Patton to confuse and distract Germany. There were thousands of tanks, artillery and other vehicles. And all of them were balloons made of rubber. They even had people who moved them around some every day to make the Germans think they were operational. It made the D-Day landings more successful.
“Our aerial reconnaissance sent us graphic photos of the equipment poised to make a run on Calais. We bought it and kept the major part of our troops in Northern France. You see, we Germans do learn a few things from you Yanks,” he said with glee.
“We have a few more things up our sleeves. The areas we have left open for them to enter have a number of old mining operations. We plan on placing a number of tank units in those underground mines. When the Russians come in and go past us, we just pop out and come in behind them,” said Pol leaning back in his chair.
Hammond chuckled. “Remind me never to fight you folks in the future. You play dirty,” he joked.
Everyone laughed. The Belgian General raised a finger, “And we will continue to do so, so keep it in mind!”
There was more laughter. In Hammond’s mind, he was much more secure about how the Europeans would do in this war. Now with a few touches that the Americans would bring, they might just stand a chance.
San Pedro, California
During the night more people had come into the center, but everyone had been able to get food and at least some shelter. Road crews were already getting the streets back into shape and linemen from the electric companies were repairing lines and restoring power where they could. The good news was that after repairing the water line under South Harbor Boulevard, water was restored to the Iowa and the refugee center. Overnight the Iowa’s tanks were reduced by half and priority had to be given to providing feed water for the ship’s boilers.
Breakfast had been an orderly affair. Most were happy to be fed at all, and the smells of the breads and pastries made the experience a little more like home. Already some of the people were going back to see what was left of their homes, to salvage what they could and return later. The media were all over the area shooting footage, interviewing those at the center and making a nuisance of themselves.
After making sure Steve was taken care of, Mayor Patricia Hammond had returned to the parking lot to reassure the people there. She was a welcome sight. Most people felt she really did understand what they were going through and was trying to help. As she made her way through the crowds she was welcomed by smiling faces and words of thanks. She was in the middle of a media interview when a call came through on her cell phone. She saw it was from Sacramento and begged away a moment.
She opened her phone and put it on speaker. “Mayor Hammond,” she said.
“Mayor, just what in the hell do you think you are doing?” asked the Governor.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are not authorized to solicit help from the Federal Government or anyone else except me,” he scolded. “I got a call from none other than your friend, the President, yesterday asking what help we needed. And now you have commandeered a battleship and using it to help your people when I have a whole county needing help!” he shouted. “I ought to drive down there and remove you from office!”