B004V9FYIY EBOK

by Unknown

  Satisfied, the captain stood with the pilot. The ship was indeed huge. It had slowed to allow the small boat to come alongside. They were near the giant ramp in the side and saw a door open and men come out. They were lowering something over the side. As the small boat came toward the side it looked to be about eight meters between the boat and the level where the men were. He watched as the pilot walked to the rail, extended his arms and grabbed something, swinging his feet up and then climbing up the side. That was when he saw a metal ladder made from what looked like cable or chain hanging along the side of the ship. He had never tried to climb anything like this!

  The pilot reached the top and called for him to get a move on. The captain grabbed for the ladder and hung on for dear life. Unlike common ladders, this one was flexible. He tried putting his toes through the rungs, but there were only a couple of inches of clearance before hitting the hull of the ship. Then as he tried to move, the whole thing twisted and he felt his back hit the hull. Moving like some uncoordinated newborn, he finally was able to get turned back around. His toes slid out several times before he finally angled them and got his footing. Slowly, rung by rung, he made his way up until willing hands reached down and grabbed him under his arms.

  “Are you alright, captain?” asked one of the sailors who helped him up.

  He stood and straightened his uniform, now stained by the salt and sea growth from the side of the hull. He had to protect the dignity of the uniform. “I am fine. Take us to see your captain, immediately!” he demanded.

  The sailor nodded. “Please come this way,” the sailor said.

  A door was opened and the men walked into the red tinted light. The interior passage was bathed in red light to protect the sailor’s night vision, but as they went up two sets of ladders there was an opening into the main hold. There the captain saw row after row of brand new Hyundai automobiles lit by a very few overhead lamps. He took note that the cargo was exactly what it should be and continued following the sailors up to the pilothouse.

  Upon arrival, the captain and the pilot shook hands warmly. “Captain, as a representative of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, I commandeer this vessel and all in it. You will proceed immediately to the pier and surrender,” he said placing his hand on his holstered pistol.

  The captain looked at the man with some surprise. “Captain, my ship has been yours since we left the United States. We are Korean and offer ourselves and our services to our country,” he said. “We will of course do as you ask.”

  The captain lowered his hand from the holster. It suddenly dawned on him how precarious his position was. He was alone on this vessel and if they had wanted to do something he would have been in no position to stop them, pistol or not. “Thank you, captain. Please proceed to port,” he said more amicably.

  The pilot boat turned on its lights for the ship to follow. It took twenty minutes for the ship to come to the end of the pier, then another ten to ease in until positioned. The thrusters pressed the ship onto the pier where men stood by to handle the lines. Captain Kua looked down at the Colonel and his troops. The tanks stood menacingly at the end of the pier. He leaned over the rail and waved to get attention. “Colonel Che, these ships are a gift to the people,” he shouted down.

  Colonel Che smiled. It had been so easy. These would make grant prizes for the state and he had been instrumental in their capture. He called back to Kua, “Have them lower something so that we may come aboard!”

  He saw someone wave back. In a moment he had his response, “They will be lowering the large ramp on the side, Colonel. It will make it much easier to come aboard the ship,” Kua yelled down.

  The Colonel waved and ordered his men to move toward the ramp. There was some noise as motors engaged and the restraining bolts were pulled back. The ramp slowly began to lower before them. The interior of the ship was pitch black, but a noise coming from it sounded like some high pitched turbine. It must be from the ship’s engines or something, the colonel thought. He looked on with satisfaction as the ramp extended and then settled on the pier. He thought he saw something moving.

  The M-1 Abrams moved swiftly onto the ramp and down onto the pier, turning its turret and letting loose the first round. The round struck the closest North Korean tank in a catastrophic explosion sending the tank’s turret high into the air. Within a few seconds, a second shot rang out, dispatching the second Korean tank. Then the M-1 moved quickly down the pier, followed by several Bradleys. A few of the soldiers got off some shots before a Bradley opened up on the assembled men. They quickly threw down their weapons and raised their hands. The Colonel was furious and urged the men to fight, brandishing his pistol in the air until a hail of machine gun bullets peppered the pier around him. He stood in awe as the Bradley moved right in front of him. The Bushmaster gun pointed directly at his head. He dropped the pistol.

  Sounds from down the pier made him notice that the second and third ships had seemingly docked. Their ramps were coming down as well. Suddenly all images of glory and honor were dashed and the man seemed to wilt away in front of his men. A figure came out from behind the Bradley and walk toward him.

  “Colonel, you and your men please move next to that crane over there,” said a female voice. “You will be treated well,” she said.

  “You cannot win, you know. Our forces will stop you,” he said with some determination.

  He heard a chuckle. “Colonel, you couldn’t stop us before and you won’t stop us now,” she said. She turned to a person standing beside her. “Get them out of the way, then secure them on the ship,” she ordered.

  “Yes, General,” came the reply as a squad of Marines rounded the prisoners up.

  General Richardson crawled back in her command vehicle. “OK Marines, you have your orders. Get the units to their positions and wait for the signal. Then get the word out to kick ass and take names,” she said. On her order, the 1st Marine Division saddled up and moved out along the pier and into the city. They were followed by elements from another fighting force. This one was marching under a white flag with a rising sun in its center.

  Outside Pusan, South Korea

  Ricks had just checked with his troops and secured their positions for the night. He rounded the side of the building and heard a noise. It sounded like a tracked vehicle; similar to the big diesels from the enemy tanks but different somehow. He walked up to Colonel Peterson standing in one doorway. He could barely make the man out. “You know what that is, sir?” he asked.

  Peterson listened and then smiled in the darkness. “The sound of Heaven, Dale,” he said just as the big Bradley swerved around the corner and moved slowly to their position. The machine stopped just beside the two men and the back opened up. A Major came out and extended his hand. “Colonel, I’m Keith Kluger of the First. I need to know exactly where the line is and where the bad guys are,” he said quickly.

  Hufham materialized out of the darkness. “Sweet,” he said. “Is it Christmas?”

  Colonel Peterson, Hufham, and Ricks crawled in the back of the machine and looked at a console. It had a detailed map of the city showing exactly where they were. “The line runs along this street here. There are tanks somewhere about two streets over as far as we can hear. Our guys are arrayed all along this area here,” the Colonel said pointing out all the surrounding areas on the electronic map. The sergeant operating the system quickly entered the information. Then waited, looking at another monitor. It took almost three minutes, but exactly on schedule, a map suddenly appeared on the screens laying out one, then several, then all of the enemy positions along the line. “The satellite is up and running sir,” the sergeant said. He continued to watch as more and more information was linked together. Within five minutes all the units had been linked in.

  The sound of footsteps outside were heard as troops began to arrive along the front line. They started issuing ammunition to the Americans and South Koreans who had been fighting almost barehanded for so long. Best yet, they start
ed handing out night vision goggles to the officers and senior enlisted. The noise drew some fire from the other side of the river, but under orders, nothing was returned. Ricks looked out at the men and equipment pouring up around them. “Where did you guys come from?” he asked.

  One of the sergeants handing out supplies grinned in the darkness. “Hells bells, bud, I came all the way from Brooklyn. You aren’t planning on asking me to go back are you?”

  Hufham let out a laugh. “Shit, we just thought you’d never get here. It’s been a bear around here lately,” he said.

  “Well, in a few minutes, those assholes are gonna think the whole world just took a shit on ‘em,” the sergeant said.

  Waters Off Korea

  “The missiles are targeted and all show a green light.”

  “Any contacts?” the Captain asked.

  “None, sir.”

  The Captain looked around the control room. “This is it guys. Let’s start us a war. Begin firing sequence. Launch as scheduled,” he ordered. Ten seconds later the first of the Tomahawk cruise missiles left the first launch tube and headed for its target. The second missile left the tube ten seconds later. A little over twenty-six minutes later the last missile left the tubes and the Ohio dove deep, turning south to return to Yokosuka. On the west coast, the Michigan completed her launch in the same amount of time. Somewhere out there a third was sitting and waiting. Her missiles were kept in reserve for those few that missed and any new targets that appeared.

  USS Iowa

  Captain Hammond sat in Strike watching the data coming in from the satellite. Iowa’s targets had been designated by the overall commander and transferred into the ships Mk-38 gunfire control system. The old Ford Rangekeepers with their naval gunfire support attachment were already providing a gunfire solution for the guns. The Iowa, Wisconsin, and Missouri were in a line just outside the harbor. No lights were showing and the night was dark. Only night vision glasses helped keep the ships in formation. In Strike, Hammond looked at the data and gave the order. “Weaps, bring the main batteries to bear.”

  On the deck, the three three-gun turrets turned outward and their barrels elevated. Inside each turret, the hydraulic lifts hoisted the 1,900-pound projectiles into the loading trays in preparation for firing. Farther below men pulled out the 110-pound powder bags and sent them through the passing scuttles from the magazines through the annular space and into the turret, where more men loaded them into the elevators that would take them to the gun house.

  On the next order, the barrels were depressed to loading position and the loading trays extended to fit inside the lip of the breech. In the back of the trays, the 16-inch projectile was rammed forward onto the breech until it engaged the rifling in the gun and sealed. The rammer was retracted and a small door opened downward just above the loading tray forming a ramp between the elevated powder bags and the tray. The elevator trays were tilted and three bags were eased down the ramp onto the tray and slid forward and back allowing room for three more. The elevator lifted to reveal one additional level. This one also tilted and all six bags positioned on the loading tray. They were slowly pushed onto the breech of the gun. This happened to all nine of the 16-inch rifles on the ship. The tray was folded back and the breech closed. The barrel elevated to match the orders provided by the computers below. The whole turret moved around making sure it was exactly where it should be pointed despite any movement of the ship.

  “All guns loaded, Captain,” the Weapons Officer reported. “We have received targeting for six of the Tomahawks. The data has been entered and the missiles ready. Recommend we fire just before we open with the guns.”

  “Very well, permission granted.” Hammond looked at his watch. “Two minutes, Weaps,” he said with a smile. Outside, two of the armored box launchers rose to their 45-degree height exposing the missiles inside.

  A movement nearby caused Hammond to glance over. A civilian sat anxiously taking some notes and watching the efforts around him. Pete Westin had been assigned to the Iowa and joined them in Guam. As a reporter for the Knight Ritter Newspapers he was one of the first to volunteer and agree to all the government’s stipulations. Upon arrival aboard the ship, Westin concentrated on getting to know the officers and men and the ship they sailed. He was a pleasant man to be around and had already written a couple of articles that were held until after the fighting started. Once that happened, the ship could resume radio transmissions via fleet broadcast.

  Westin glanced over at Hammond and gave a weak smile. Clearly he was excited and nervous. In just one minute the United States would begin operations against the North Koreans. Much would depend on what happened that night. What Westin noticed was that the Captain seemed calm and in control. Hammond actually smiled at him. Westin thought of all he had heard over the past few days. This will work, he thought.

  Pyongyang, North Korea

  Chairman Kim was enjoying himself. He stood on the balcony outside his office and sipped some wine. The plans for the celebration tomorrow were complete and everything was in place. He always looked forward to the big parades. It always centered focus on his enlightened leadership and gave him the opportunity to entertain the masses. The extra food and drink would make them love him even more.

  He finished his drink. Looking around he decided to turn in. He would need his sleep to be ready for the activities tomorrow. Kim had just walked back into his office when the sirens began to wail across the city. Three men rushed in grabbing Kim and running him out the door and into an elevator. The men dropped eight floors below the ground and opened into a stark concrete bunker. He was ushered into a small room with a cot. There he sat, not knowing what had happened or what was about to.

  At the airfield near Changch'an-ni, alarms began sounding after the first of the missiles crossed over the field and disbursed its cluster munitions along half the runways. They went off in intense pops, cracking open the concrete and making gouges up to a foot deep. A second missile finished the job while others were targeted on the hangars and fuel storage facilities. The submunitions also found aircraft neatly arrayed in long lines along the side of the runway. Most of these went up in their own balls of fire. Base personnel were quick in their response, but by the time they arrived the damage was done. Aircraft were burning and the runways were unusable. To make matters worse, ground penetration munitions had found at least two of the underground fuel tanks. In those cases, the ground itself seemed to burn.

  Thanks to the work of the B-1 teams that ferreted out the radar installations, over 90 percent of the radars inside North Korea were knocked out. In Pyongyang, missiles streaked down the street beside the Grand People’s Study House and Kim Il Sung Square. Again, the submunitions peppered the immaculately clean square while others slammed into government buildings and the statue to Kim Il Sung.

  Inchon, South Korea

  The naval detachment assigned to Inchon was enjoying a quiet evening until the sound of jet engines began to fill the night sky. One by one the Tomahawks came in, knocking out the radars and missile emplacements surrounding the harbor. Then, in one gigantic explosion, it seemed the entire harbor erupted as a signal triggered the detonator on every mine in the harbor. In a panic, all the sailors tried to get to the one patrol boat they had. The boat had only just begun getting underway when a hail of shells came down around them. It was high tide and steaming into the harbor came six destroyers, their guns blazing. The ships lined up and began steaming back and forth picking targets of opportunity and relaying information back to another ship.

  USS Salem was standing just outside the harbor entrance. She elevated her 8-inch guns and joined in with the destroyers, hitting targets farther inland. Troops scrambled here and there, trying to get organized, but as they went to from one position to another they found it had already been destroyed either by gunfire or some kind of sabotage. Everything seemed to be exploding. The fuel farms and the coal yard began to burn. The passage into the inner harbor suddenly exploded leaving
debris clogging the narrow entrance. The refineries further inland were next adding to the destruction. Slowly and methodically the horrified North Koreans watched as their world exploded and burned around them. Frantically a call went out for help. The allies were invading Inchon once again, and they would need a division of men to stop it.

  USS Iowa

  The time ticked down until 2100 hours. A “go” signal flashed on the satellite screen in Strike and Hammond turned to his Weapons Officer. “Batteries released,” he said. The launch button was pressed and six Tomahawk cruise missiles lit up the night sky around the ship as they left their launchers and streaked into the sky towards targets far inside South Korea. As that happened, deep in Main Battery Plot the Gunnery Officer began the sequence pulling the warning triggers and then the firing key. Once pulled, nothing on earth could stop what was going to happen.

  The big 16” guns let out a tremendous roar, followed by similar salvos from the Wisconsin and Missouri. Once the rounds were fired, the air ejectors began blowing any residuals from the breech and the guns lowered again to the loading position. The breeches were opened and the process of loading began once again. Within sixty seconds the guns fired again.

  In his forward position, Hufham heard the sound of tearing linen as the huge projectiles streaked overhead and struck the ground behind the enemy lines. The earth shook beneath the men and the explosions echoed through the city streets. More projectiles poured overhead and once again the ground shook as the rounds came down in the middle of the cache of tanks being readied for a final assault. Using his night vision goggles, Hufham began seeing North Korean soldiers run back and forth, not knowing what was happening.

  Then the battleship fire eased closer by 100 yards. The buildings all along the North Korean lines began coming apart as the heavy shells detonated deep inside them, blasting them from the inside out. The North Korean soldiers began to panic.