by Unknown
The lights were turned on around the deckhouse and surrounding the cargo area. Both men could see the ship had settled deeply in the water and the hold was nearly filled. Groans could be heard as the seas continued to move the ship. It wouldn’t be long before the keel would crack and the ship would break in two.
The captain ran to the radio room to send out a distress signal. He could have saved his time. The radio operator had a hole through the back of his head and the equipment was smashed. It was obvious the radio would never be fixed.
“We have to save what’s left of the crew!” the captain shouted. He lurched toward the pilothouse, across it to the door and gazed at the lifeboat. Nothing would allow the normally sturdy craft to float now. There were three large jagged rents in the area of the boat’s keel.
“The other’s just as bad,” the Hahn moaned. “Let’s try an inflatable,” he suggested. Both men ran to the area aft of the funnel where the inflatable life rafts were sealed in their capsules. The engineer slammed his hand on the release and kicked the capsule over the side. A cord attached to the ship released the raft as it fell and popped the capsule. There was no way to describe how the men felt when the capsule opened and there was no raft inside. The two halves fell harmlessly into the water. A similar effort on the other side produced the same results.
By now the ship was beginning to wallow heavily in the seas. The bulkheads started to buckle back and forth on the sides as the two ends of the ship were trying to keep the vessel afloat with 30,000 tons of water and containers weighing down the center. Already water was nearly up to the main deck. Most of the crewmen were clamoring toward the bridge – knowing the ship was doomed and clinging to the idea they might survive, if even for a few more moments.
“Will the aft end of the ship float?” the captain asked his engineer.
“It might for a while, but if the ship breaks up, it will probably spring almost every joint. Even then, the forward bulkheads aren’t designed to take on any kind of sea,” he said sorrowfully. “With luck, we might have a day or so before something gave way. But when things do break loose, I have no way of knowing whether this half will remain on an even keel. The engine won’t do us any good and the generators may not work at any big angle,” he said looking at his captain in the face. “We’re in for it.”
The captain nodded. He knew the engineer was right. He also knew North Korean shipbuilders were not known for their workmanship. His ship would go down like a stone.
There was a loud metallic groan and then a gigantic bang. The crew watched as a crack appeared in the main deck, just in front of the after superstructure. The sounds of ripping steel and grinding metal accompanied a large surge of water from the crack that poured into what was left of the hold. The men watched in horror as the front end of the ship seemed to move to one side and peel away from where they were standing.
The seas continued to work the ship’s hull, first opening the crack, then slamming it shut again for several agonizing minutes. The crew stood petrified as the sounds tore at their ears. They watched in the glow of the ship’s exterior lighting as it illuminated the gaping jaws of the crack that seemed to be feeding on something in the dark water. Finally the crack began to open again. This time it didn’t stop. In a loud snap, the keel finally gave up and let go. The lights on the forward part of the ship went out as the electric lines severed. Just as suddenly, the men felt the deck beneath them heave upward as the last of the sturdy steel plates gave way and the forward end of the ship began to drift away. The men struggled to get back to their feet, having been thrown around the deck by the sudden movement. They saw the cargo area of the ship slide under the water. The bow of the ship began to angle upward, not lifting from the water, but simply tilting like it was going to hang there. Through the dim illumination they watched the bow slowly disappear, being dragged down by the cargo holds and the remaining containers. What appeared to be steam began whistling out of the hatches and windows and a froth of bubbles appeared around the remaining hull as it slid into the water. The bubbles continued to churn the water after the bow had gone from sight.
The Captain stood with tears in his eyes as he watched part of his beloved ship sink. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. Soh the old cook stood beside him. Both men just stood and shared the moment of sorrow, neither speaking, just being there.
“It’s floating,” said one of the crewmen nearby. The words broke the captain out of his private thoughts and into the present. He looked down where the man was pointing. There, riding easily in the water was the section of containers that had held the launching crew. It floated freely on the water. There was light coming from a small fixture on the top next to the hatch going below.
The Captain sprang into action. “Get some lines on that thing and guide it to what’s left of the ship’s side!” he yelled. The remaining crew sprang to life, rushing to break out the nylon mooring hawsers stored just aft of the superstructure on the main deck. Once removed, one end was lowered to the containers as they bumped along the forward remains of the ship. A crewman expertly slid down the line to the top of the containers and a loop at the end of the line was threaded through an attachment ring and secured. Another line was lowered and the crewman attached it on the other end of the containers. With great effort, the crew began to ease their makeshift raft to the side of the ship and secure it.
Half way through the process the engineer ran into the pilot house. “Captain! The engine room’s flooding and we won’t be able to stop it. When the bow tore away it sprung plates back another ten feet beyond the aft bulkhead of the cargo hold. I can give you lights for maybe another 20 minutes, then the water will be up to the generators,” he said in the confusion.
The captain nodded and pointed to the containers being moved around to the side. “See the light? This thing may have its own generator onboard. If it does, we need to get fuel to it and see about water. That’s our lifeboat, Hahn. Let’s make the best of it till the power goes.”
The engineer nodded and ran to the side. “I need to get down there,” he said. The leading seaman nodded and grabbed a smaller line, throwing it over the side and tying it to a bulkhead cleat. “We’re holding this thing right below,” he yelled. “Climb down while we finish pulling it around.”
The engineer slapped the man on the back and grinned. “If this thing starts to sink, don’t forget to leave me a line,” he said grinning. He then grabbed a flashlight just inside the pilothouse, took the line in his hands, and eased over the side and out of sight.
The crewman who had secured the containers held the line for him and greeted him when he lit on the deck. The engineer looked around, using the flashlight to inspect some of the welds holding the containers together. He motioned the man over. “Tell the Bos’n to get some steel wire down here and run it around this whole thing to hold it a little more secure. The more the better,” he said. “I’m going inside to see if this thing will float.”
The crewman nodded and started yelling instructions up to the ship while he went over to the hatch. To his surprise, the hatch was only loosely secured. He turned the handle and pulled it open. Hahn was surprised to find the space brightly lit. Lowering himself through the hatch, his feet found the ladder and he climbed down.
He had climbed into a tomb. Scattered around the space were the bodies of the launch crew. A total of 12 men were in the spaces. Each had been shot and left for dead. After checking for a pulse on several, Hahn decided it was no use and got back to checking for leaks. Surprisingly, there were none. The spaces had been constructed to be both waterproof and airtight to protect the delicate equipment - still operating in the first open space. There was a berthing space, dining facility, kitchen, radio and communications room, and farther on a storage area and room for the generator. It was obvious these weren’t just containers welded together, but a complete unit designed and constructed to take a lot of punishment. Checking the generator room, he found the fuel tanks nearly full. Glan
cing around, he saw why. The generator hadn’t come on until the ship’s power had been interrupted. He ran back to the kitchen area and found the water tank. Holding about 200 gallons, it was nearly empty. Hahn raced back up the ladder and through the hatch.
“Get a water hose down here right now!” he screamed up at the men now looking down at him. “Then tell the cook to start bringing down every bit of food he can!”
The hose took about 5 minutes to hook up. Then the water poured through it nearly filling the onboard tank when the lights on the ship began to blink. They dimmed briefly, came back brightly again, then blinked one final time before going out forever.
By this time the cook had taken a party of men and brought up a number of boxes of canned food. There was also some frozen meat and fish and several containers of dry stores. Now the ship was settling deeper and tilting further forward as the water filled the engineering spaces. The captain directed the food be lowered to their new home and for the men to abandon ship.
The evolution was actually quite orderly. The food was lowered or dropped to the deck and stacked near the hatch. At the same time, the Bos’n lowered several lines, equipment, and other materials he thought would come in handy. The men were allowed to go quickly to their berthing spaces and retrieve whatever personal items they wanted to bring. These too were lowered and the men followed down the lines until they were all assembled on the deck. The captain, as per tradition, was the last to leave. He had gathered the ship’s log and lowered it with his few belongings to the crew below, then with a final look around, crawled over the lines and lowered himself to the deck with his men.
He looked sorrowfully up the side of his old ship, and then shook his head. He turned to his remaining crewmen huddled together. “We have been made fools of today. Our country wanted to sacrifice us for some purpose we are unaware of,” he said sadly. “There has never been a more loyal crew to me or the country we served. Since our country now considers us dead, we may now make decisions on our own to live.” He looked around the small deck they were standing on. “This is going to be our home until someone comes for us. So let’s make the best of it. I am sorry I let you down by not finding out the treachery imposed on us. I am sorry we were not able to save our ship,” he said before the tears began to flow. He lowered his head, unable to speak further.
One of the men came forward. “Captain, we all know you and you know us. None of us saw this coming. You have been our friend and leader a long time. That counts more to us than any political ideology. To us, you are still our captain,” he said offering a smile. The other men came forward to express their support for their captain. It was a small gesture, but meant a lot to Sohn.
“I will do my best to see that you all are rescued. I simply ask that we continue to work together until we can get back to land. Then we will decide what we do next,” the captain said. After a moment, he shook off the emotions and motioned to the men. “Let’s get all this below and stowed. Bos’n!” he called out, “cut the lines to our ship and let us drift away before she settles.”
The men went to their tasks as the Bos’n pulled out his long knife and began cutting through the hawser. In a few minutes the lines were cut away and the containers began drifting away from the ship. When that was done, a detail began lifting the bodies of the dead men out of the hatch and onto the deck. Sohn watched as each of the young technicians was gently laid on the deck. Why? He wondered to himself. Why was something like this necessary? He found no answers. Eleven were eventually brought up and laid out side by side. After a few moments of silence, each was carried to the side and lowered gently into the water.
In all, twelve of the ship’s crew were left. One of the launch crew was also found to be alive but badly wounded. In a couple of hours the inside of the container was cleaned of the blood and mess, the stores put away, and their lifeboat made ready for what might be a long voyage. It was an exhausted crew that finally fell into their bunks to sleep.
The next morning the crew watched as the after part of their ship finally slid beneath the waves. It had capsized in the night. They stared at the ship’s single bronze screw sitting motionless behind the rudder, dully glistening in the early morning light. Unlike the bow, there was no froth of bubbles. Instead it slid slowly away – the tip of the rudder shifting slightly as is disappeared. The men watched silently, then drifted to other parts of the deck to be by themselves.
Chapter 2
March 21 - First Steps
Washington, D.C.
The meeting was fruitless. For about an hour the Joint Chiefs bickered and argued back and forth. The President realized it was politics as usual. They were looking for scapegoats and excuses. He was looking for answers.
“Since we don’t have communications I have no way of knowing what fleet units are unaffected, sir,” said the Chief of Naval Operations. You could tell by the look on his face he was scared to death the Navy’s losses would be attributed to him.
The President sighed. “So it’s the same for all of our armed forces.” It was a desperate statement more than a question. The six uniformed men sat across from the President looking defeated. Their silence and long faces reflected a defeated attitude. It was obvious they had no idea how to change the situation. The Chairman spoke up.
“If we had communications, things would be different. But right now I can’t even call across town. If your Secret Service guys hadn’t come to pick me up, I would probably still be home asleep,” he said, tightly gripping the pen in his hand.
“Okay,” the President said. “No matter what, it appears we are at war with someone. Now the question is what can we do about it?”
The Chairman spoke up. “If it’s like you said, sir, we will need to start building new equipment to replace what has been lost. It probably means new ships, aircraft and tanks. As far as the Army’s concerned, all the battlefield equipment is a write off including the Abrams and Bradleys. Everything they have uses computers or some sort of high tech electronics. The rifles work, but that will be about all.” The Army chief nodded in agreement. “We have been after the Congress for more equipment and better assets for a long time. You see where it got us. Now they can’t say no.”
“We’ve been asking the same way. More planes and missiles spread out around the country so that if one place got hit we could cover it with others,” the Air Force Chief said. “As far as the Air Force goes, I’m not sure how much I could put up. Today’s engines all rely on computers to keep them running and most of the aircraft are ‘fly-by-wire’ requiring computers to keep them in the air. The electronics packages are extensive. I’d have to replace almost everything in the inventory. On the missile side, I can figure that out once we get talking again. We are able to talk to the silos and SAC. Their stuff was not really damaged by the pulse and are ready to go with a few modifications,” the general said. “At a minimum, we couldn’t respond to a real threat for a year or more. And that’s with us bringing in our assets from all over the world. Even then, if whoever it was unleashes another attack like the last one, we would lose those as well.”
The Chief of Naval Operations nodded. “That’s how we stand too. My ships won’t move because they all use computers to run just about everything, including our missiles and engines. We might as well start from scratch. We’ll need new appropriations to build again, more cruisers, destroyers, even maybe a carrier or two depending on what can be replaced. Right now there are ships in the Arabian Sea, Mid-Pac, the Med, and one carrier group operating Mid-Atlantic doing refresher training. The bad part of this is if we pull them back home, we are vulnerable elsewhere. The Reagan is the one doing the refresher training and doesn’t have an air group aboard, so all her planes are down too. I would say just with what I know now, we are down by two thirds and it will take a couple of years of dedicated building just to get back to our current levels.”
The Coast Guard Commandant looked up at the president. This was his chance to get a few assets of his own. �
�My cutters are not as dependent on computers and electronics. I would say most of my assets are available, but we don’t have the firepower you will need to do much. I can keep our ports open and do some patrols along the coast. Some new assets would help. I have been saying for years my service needed more if there was any emergency.”
General Howard Black of the Marine Corps was obviously disgusted. So far, he had refrained from joining in with all the others looking for someone to blame. When the President looked over at him, the General seemed ready to explode. His steely gray eyes pierced into the President like daggers. “Hell,” he almost spat. “Mr. President, if you say the word I’ll have all 120,000 Marines ready to hit the road in whatever transportation we can scare up. Most of my transport is just plain old trucks. I can get them to wherever you want as long as these guys can rustle up some ships or planes to get us there.” You could tell he was really fired up. “Mr. President, us grunts need radios and maybe a couple other things to get going, but no matter what we’ll go. Hell, I got old-fashioned field telephones I can talk to my guys with if necessary. You just tell me who did this and I’ll have my guys at the dock in a few hours, even if we have to walk,” he said indignantly.
The President smiled. Not only to show his approval, but because Butler had told him exactly what each man would say, even that General Black would be the only one who would step up to the plate. “Thank you, General,” he said to Black. “I may take you up on that.” He looked at the rest of the Joint Chiefs. “Gentlemen, as of right now the United States is at war with someone. They have used weapons of mass destruction within our own boarders and in some way we will retaliate. I will decide that later when we know who did it and what we can do. In the mean time, I want all of you to get back to your command centers and try and get communications re-established in some way. We need to find out what works and what doesn’t. I need to know what we have outside the country we could pull in. Then we need to get ready to do something about this. Please be back in here with additional information and recommendations tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. Thank you gentlemen,” he said closing the meeting.