Rising Sun

by Robert Conroy

  Thus, all three invaluable and, for the moment at least, irreplaceable carriers had been lost. Japanese casualties had been one damaged carrier, one submarine sunk, and a handful of airplanes shot down.

  Midway was the latest in a long litany of defeats in the Pacific that had begun with Pearl Harbor and ran on through Wake Island, Guam, the Philippines, Java Sea, Coral Sea, and now Midway. Some argued that the battle of the Coral Sea was at worst a draw, but Tim thought that it was a loss even though a likely attack on Australia had been blunted. He expected the Japs would be back attacking Australia soon enough since the defeat at Midway. Jimmy Doolittle’s bombing attack on Tokyo had momentarily buoyed spirits but had accomplished nothing in the way of a military objective.

  Amanda took his arm and steered him down another hallway that led outdoors and he walked gingerly down a street. It felt good to be in the fresh, flower-scented warm air of Hawaii. He could almost forget about the war. Almost, since just about every male was in uniform. He felt his strength returning and could walk fairly steadily now, but he liked the feel of Amanda’s hand on his arm. She came a little above his shoulder.

  “Lieutenant, assuming you’re correct that you are still on Spruance’s staff, you are all going back to California. Same with Nimitz’s people. Rumor has it the navy feels that Hawaii is a lost cause since there aren’t very many major American ships remaining in the Pacific to protect it.”

  Tom thought it made a hard and painful kind of sense. He’d seen the admiral once since their rescue when he’d visited Tim. He’d thanked Tim for saving his life—and for not killing him. Spruance had smiled when he said it, but Dane saw the agony in his eyes. All those men, all those ships now resting on the bottom of the ocean, had been his.

  Amanda continued. “As I understand it, the rules for evacuation are simple. If you can walk, you’ll be evacuated by submarine; otherwise, you’ll have to wait for a destroyer or a transport, or even a hospital ship.”

  “I’ll take my chances on the sub,” he said grimly.

  Tim had hated his first trip in the claustrophobic submarine, but quickly decided a second trip would be better than waiting in Hawaii for the world to end. There had been too many attacks on transports to make them viable alternatives. As for hospital ships, the Japanese record for atrocities included attacks on those unarmed and helpless vessels as well. He handed Amanda his crutches and walked unsteadily but unaided. He was determined to be ready to walk onto a sub.

  Amanda was about to comment when air raid sirens went off. This was the first time it had happened since Dane had arrived in Hawaii and he was momentarily perplexed.

  “Maybe the Japs are back,” she said and grabbed his arm, “There were a lot of false alarms after December seventh, with a lot of Nervous Nellies seeing Japanese bogeymen in their flower gardens, but who knows.” She grabbed his arm more tightly and pushed him. “Let’s see how fast you can limp to a shelter.”

  Shelter was a cement block building that quickly filled with people and Tim moved a lot quicker than he thought he could. Fear was a great motivator, he decided.

  In Dane’s opinion, the shelter was too fragile to stand up to much of a bombing. Antiaircraft guns began their crump-crump firing, and they were followed by the sounds of explosions. Amanda grabbed his hand and held on tightly. Her eyes were wide with fright in the dim light and he thought his mirrored hers. Clearly, this was not a false alarm.

  “I thought nurses don’t get scared,” he said, and put his arm around her. She didn’t resist; instead, she shuddered and pressed against him.

  “This one does. Right now I wish I had stayed in California. I had a nice job as a nurse in San Diego.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Yes.”

  Something exploded down the street, sending debris raining on the shelter. “Keep up the good work,” she said, and quivered. “I came here because it was an opportunity to earn decent money and see the wonders of Hawaii. I love sailing and it seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity. I never thought going to paradise might actually send me to heaven, or hell for that matter. My contract is for a year, but now it might be forever.”

  “What will you do if the navy goes?”

  “No idea. If there’s a way to get back to the mainland, I’ll take it. I know of a large enough sailboat that could make it with enough supplies and a little luck, but that would be an act of desperation.”

  “Are you that good a sailor?” he asked with a smile. She was slender, almost thin, but the way she had steered him toward the shelter indicated she was stronger than she looked.

  “We may have to find out. And maybe things are getting desperate. The government has introduced food rationing already and that’s not a good sign.”

  No, it isn’t, he thought. Rationing might mean that starvation was right around the corner. As a member of the military he was part of a privileged caste and had all the food he required, at least so far. He felt vaguely guilty for the hearty breakfast he’d had that morning—eggs, bacon, toast, and pineapple juice, of course. What were the civilians eating? He hoped Amanda was eating well enough, too. She didn’t look like she could stand to miss too many meals.

  The all-clear sounded and they left the shelter. They walked in silence back to the hospital. A petty officer was waiting beside Tim’s bed. “Sir, are you Lieutenant Dane? If so, you’re wanted right away in Admiral Spruance’s meeting room. I’ve got a car so I’ll take you there.”

  Dane nodded and squeezed Amanda’s arm. “I’ll call you,” he said. She smiled and nodded.

  Spruance did not host the meeting. A navy captain in his late thirties glared at Dane for being late, but softened immediately when he noticed his bandages and stitches, and the cane which Tim had swapped for his crutches. The Purple Heart was pinned to his uniform.

  “Okay, we’re all here, even the walking wounded,” he said, nodding at Tim. “Glad you could make it, Dane. For those who don’t know me, I’m Captain Bill Merchant and I’m a senior aide to the admiral. My job is to get everyone up to speed on what’s happening right now, and what’s going to happen real soon. In short, we’re evacuating this place. All senior military personnel and their staffs, and that means us, will depart by sub tomorrow night. You will be limited to one small suitcase, so pack light. Take only essential personal stuff as uniforms and such will be reissued in San Diego. Other military personnel and the more seriously wounded will be taken out by transport or hospital ship, and, yes, that does mean that the navy is abandoning Hawaii. Only the army garrison will remain.”

  A hand was raised. “What about dependents?”

  Merchant hesitated then shook his head sadly. “They’ll either stay or go by transport if there’s enough room. My personal opinion is that there won’t be enough room to take everyone.”

  The man paled. Obviously he had family at what had once been a great duty station, and now was in the front lines of World War II against a particularly savage and barbaric enemy. Dane wondered what happen to people like them and also wondered what would become of Nurse Amanda Mallard. The future did not look pretty for those who would remain.

  Captain Merchant went on to clarify what many already knew. There was only one American aircraft carrier remaining in the Pacific. The Lexington and the small old Langley had been sunk in the Coral Sea, while the Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown had been destroyed at Midway, leaving the Saratoga as the only U.S. carrier in the Pacific. The Ranger, Wasp, and the partially completed Essex were in the Atlantic and no decision had been made to send them to the Pacific where they would be up against nine Japanese carriers. There could be even more enemy ships since no one really knew what they were building back in the Japanese Home Islands.

  Merchant added that the U.S. Navy had a number of battleships remaining even after the disaster at Pearl Harbor, including a couple that had been damaged during the raid and subsequently repaired. Merchant said that all of them were
old and that less than a handful of other American battleships were in the Atlantic confronting the Nazi U-boat menace. In Admiral Nimitz’s opinion, those few old battleships would be destroyed if they attempted to take on the Japanese carriers and their attendant battleships.

  “It’s rumored that the Japs have at least one monster battlewagon that could blow all our ships to hell,” added Merchant, “but we’re taking that with a grain of salt.”

  New battleships and carriers were under construction and in varying degrees of completion, but they would not be ready for battle for some months at the very least.

  “To be blunt, gents, we are on our own, which is why the Pacific Fleet, such at it is, will be departing for San Diego. We gave some thought to us being picked up by subs off a beach up north, but decided it would be too difficult and time consuming to ferry people out through the surf. Besides, a lot of our key people are too old for such shenanigans or, like Dane here, too banged up. Ergo, we will be boarding in the harbor and will exit the channel submerged. We will exit behind a tug which we will use as a beacon and a guide.”

  Merchant looked at his watch. “You have a little more than twenty-four hours before we go, so settle what private matters you have. And Dane, I want to see you.”

  When the group had scattered, Merchant took Dane into Spruance’s empty office. “First off, are you going to be able to get on the sub?”

  “I’ll have no problem, sir.”

  “That’s good enough for me even though I think you’re lying through your teeth. Second, the admiral wants to thank you again for saving his life. You will probably get a promotion and you will definitely get a letter of personal commendation from the admiral, if not a medal. Second, and I don’t know what the hell he means by this, but he said you and he had no conversations regarding mortality while in the life raft.”

  Dane smiled. “Please tell the admiral I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  Merchant blinked and then grinned. “Damn good answer. See you tomorrow night.”

  Dane had no bills or any other personal matters that needed settling. He thought about his situation for a moment and made a decision. It took only a few moments sweet-talking another nurse to get Amanda Mallard’s phone number and home address. He called her and invited her to dinner. She declined, but said she’d go for a walk with him if he cared to meet her. She reminded him that his leg needed work and he’d better go walking if he wanted to get on that sub.

  An hour later, they were strolling in the clean warm sands of Waikiki. Both were barefoot and Tim’s pants were rolled up to his knees. Amanda wore a flowered skirt that she tied up and tucked into her waist, providing him with a mid-thigh view of her slender white legs. They strolled along the edge of the water like kids, dodging the waves and getting their feet wet. An occasional larger wave splashed them and they laughed. It was an opportunity to forget the violent world around them and they took it with gusto.

  Although she’d declined to go to dinner with him, he brought a couple of steak sandwiches from the officer’s club. The meat was tender, rare, and covered with onions and mayonnaise. She’d devoured hers in a couple of minutes after commenting that rationing was already making life difficult. Tim ate half of his and told her to take the rest back to her apartment, which she said she shared with two other civilian nurses.

  “Are you feeling guilty?” she asked.

  “A little. I’m well fed and mending from my injuries and, tomorrow night, getting out of what used to be this island paradise. I’ve got to tell you, I’m very unhappy at the thought of you remaining here. I was kind of hoping we’d have time to get to know each other a little better.”

  She smiled gently. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and her eyes were large and bright. “That makes two of us, although the latest scuttlebutt has us going by transport in a couple of weeks. The same rumors have us being escorted by the battleships that either survived the attack or were in California when Pearl Harbor was struck.”

  She shuddered and leaned against him. “If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget that morning. When some of the wounded got to me, they weren’t humans anymore, Tim, they were just pieces of meat that were somehow still alive. Many of them weren’t alive for long, and that may have been a mercy.”

  Tim mentioned that he too would never forget the dead and dying on the Enterprise, or the bodies that floated by the raft he and Spruance had occupied.

  In the distance, a handful of sailboats, silhouetted by the moonlight, moved gracefully across the swells. It was a scene from another world, another era. Tim wondered if Japanese warships were just over the horizon or if enemy periscopes were surveying the shore, and if they could see the two of them walking together and what they thought about it. Maybe some Jap captain was laughing and planning their destruction. The enemy planes that had attacked the day before had come from a carrier that had to be out there somewhere.

  Amanda looked up at the stars. “If I can’t get on a transport, I’ll sail to California.”

  “You’re joking.”

  She bristled and stamped her bare foot, splashing both of them. “I am not joking, and please don’t tell me you’re one of those men who thinks women are fragile and innocent creatures who can’t do anything without a big strong dumb man helping them. You may be big and strong and probably not dumb, and have nice brown eyes, but I can manage well enough alone. I can sail a boat and I have friends who can do it as well, and oh yeah, I know an old guy who owns one. Give me a decent sailboat and enough food and water and I can sail it anyplace.”

  He took her hand. She did not pull it back. “If it comes to that, Amanda, do it.”

  The Japanese had committed terrible atrocities when they’d taken Hong Kong and the Philippines. They’d targeted nurses and hospitals for many of their most savage outrages, slaughtering the patients and raping the nurses before murdering them as well.

  She managed a smile. “Want me to look you up when I make it to California?”

  “I would like that a lot.” He pulled her to him and they embraced. He felt her body shake. She was crying. He kissed her and she held him tightly. “We’ll meet in California.”

  Her response was to kiss him back.

  * * *

  The three submarines that were to take the forty men of Spruance’s staff were docked in slips located below the fleet headquarters. It was the same building where the now-disgraced and removed Admiral Kimmel had watched both his fleet and his career destroyed.

  Along with Tim and Captain Merchant, another ten men would be squeezed into what they had been told were already extremely tight quarters. Tim was well aware what that meant, having spent a couple of days in a sub before the seaplane had picked up him and the admiral. Tim was larger than average, and the average submariner was even smaller than that. For that matter, so too were pilots and many others in the military. There was, he thought ironically, simply no room for larger people in many military professions.

  Before boarding, they were gathered in a conference room by their skipper, a very young, short, and lean lieutenant commander named Torelli who gave them a stern lecture.

  “I know I am junior in rank to most of you, but let there be no doubt—I am the captain of this sub and I will make all decisions while you are on board. To begin with, you will be assigned bunks and you will spend as much time as possible in them and I don’t care how cramped and uncomfortable they might be. This is in order to keep you out of the way of the crew, who have assignments that must be carried out if we are to arrive safely. If we are in danger, you will lie perfectly still in those bunks and not even talk. If you have to piss or crap, do it right there and don’t worry about it. We don’t believe that the Nips have any sound-detecting devices like sonar, but we’re not certain so nobody’s taking chances. When necessary, we will run as silent as a mouse. We don’t think their radar’s all that great either, but a lot of things were proven wrong on Pearl Harbor, weren’t they?”

  Th
at comment was greated with grunts and growls. The Japanese had been terribly underestimated.

  Torelli continued. “The food on board will be shitty at best and the heads are inadequate for the needs of the crew, much less an additional dozen men. Cleanliness might be a virtue in another world, but such virtue will have to wait until we reach California. For those of you who’ve never been on a sub, it will stink like a sewer when you go on board, so a little more shit odor and body stench won’t make a hell of a lot of difference, and it will get worse the longer it takes for us to get to California.”

  “Will you attack Jap ships if we spot any?” Merchant asked.

  “My orders are to deliver you safely and not pick any fights. We will only defend ourselves and then only as a last resort. I have four torpedoes left from my last patrol. Since we’re heading to California, the powers here declared I couldn’t have any more of their precious supply.”

  “Have you sunk any ships?” Tim asked.

  “Nothing to write home about,” Torelli said. “Two small freighters.”

  Torelli didn’t add that most of the torpedoes he’d fired had either malfunctioned or missed, and he didn’t think his aim had been off all that often. He’d had a Japanese light cruiser dead to rights and the many torpedoes he’d fired had failed to explode, even though he’d heard two of them clang against the enemy’s hull. This was an issue that was very common and a cause of great concern among American submariners. He’d reported it up the line to Admiral Lockwood, who now commanded the sub force and was waiting for the bureaucratic shit to hit the fan.

  Like children in grade school, they were paraded single file out to the dock. Tim looked around. It was two in the morning, a time when all good Japanese spies should be asleep, and all but the most essential lights were off in the harbor. Naval intelligence and the FBI said there weren’t any spies around, but who could be certain? Tim was one of many who wondered just how the hell the Japs had known so much about Pearl Harbor. The only logical answer was that there had been spies, probably Japanese consular officials, maybe others.