The gunny again looked out the window saying, “I know you’re telling me the straight story, but I would love to be with my marines doing the things I was trained to do, fighting the enemy.”
The commander cut him off saying, “Gunny, you are close to fifty years old.” The gunny nodded yes but did not speak. Jameson continued, “I doubt they would send you off to lead a landing party even though you are in apparently good shape. What they would do is have you in a training billet, imparting your knowledge to thousands of recruits who need to learn how to stay alive. That’s a very important job, even more important than leading a squad on an assault of a hostile shore. I would love to be given command of a destroyer or even a patrol boat, but the powers that be know my skills and experience are better suited to helping win the war by developing or improving the science of war. But by God, I would love to go to sea again.”
Both men stared out the window as the train picked up speed. The gunny finally spoke, “Damn it, Commander, I have not known you very long, but you make good sense. Maybe I won’t see combat again, but I can help these young kids coming up learn the skills that will keep them alive. That goes for Mr. Brand as well, but I doubt they will ever let him even leave the country, knowing what he knows.”
The commander again turned to Jones, reflecting on the marine’s remarks, “Gunny, I think that you and I are going help win the war in a support capacity, but I have a feeling that Mr. Brand will definitely see things in other parts of the world because of his potential. The only danger is making sure he comes out of those travels in one piece. I don’t know what is going to happen to him in the near term, but I have a feeling I will be involved in some of his assignments and that is fine with me. It is a blessing to watch him come up with solutions to problems that most of us do not even see. But only time will tell.”
The commander and Gunnery Sergeant Jones walked down the small hallway to check in with Dr. Feldman for a report on the ensign and start planning their move to the Naval Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland.
Part 2
11
9 February 1942
Bethesda Naval Hospital
• Transport Lafayette, (AP-53), former French liner Normandie, burns at New York pier.
• Japanese land at Singapore Island.
Dr. Feldman left the private room of Ensign Brand and waited to speak with Commander Jameson who was on the phone at the nurse’s station. Sergeant Laird and Corporal Pride were sitting outside Brand’s room as guard and caretaker.
Jameson held up his hand to prevent the doctor from saying anything as Feldman heard one side of the conversation.
“No, Admiral, he will not be able to move out of here for at least two more days. The doctors want him to get some more rest which will allow his ribs to heal. Yes sir, he will be fine and able to begin any projects that may be assigned.” The commander stared out of the window at nothing and closed his eyes for just a second. “Yes, Admiral, he can look at some documentation and assessments to get him up to speed on whatever you wish, but it would be best if he did not get involved in any lengthy discussions. He is very strong but, as I said earlier, the doctors here are unanimous that they want him to stay calm and to stay quiet. Yes sir, if you will have the information dispatched to his room, the guards will ensure security. They know who is allowed into his room.”
The commander listened intently concerning the materials being sent over and his role in the project. Finally, the conversation, came to an end with the commander saying, “Admiral, if we can have the officer with the dispatches stand by while Brand reviews them, then we can get them back into your safe keeping by this afternoon. The ensign is a very fast reader and has an incredible memory.”
Again, Jameson looked out the nearby window while he listened to the orders he was receiving. “Yes sir, I will report back to you once the courier leaves, and I will give you an update on Brand’s condition by 1700 hours.”
The line went dead without any goodbyes, which was to be expected from the chief of staff to Admiral King. No time for chit chat, or as some people were saying these days, “Don’t you know that there’s a war going on?” This was getting a bit overdone for Jameson’s liking, but it did have more than a kernel of truth.
Jameson asked Dr. Feldman, “How is the ensign?”
Feldman did not answer immediately but asked, “What do they expect at HQ? Brand is doing better than most people under these circumstances, but it is going to take time. And it sounds like they want to put him to work before he gets well.”
Jameson smiled knowing Feldman was intensely loyal to the young ensign and was always checking on him like a sheepdog guarding his flock. “Doc, there are a lot of people who are hoping the young ensign can give them a miracle or two and defeat the enemy without firing a shot. Seems that Admiral Turner’s report to the chief has made its way to just about every senior department head in the navy. They all have problems they don’t know how to solve, or the way they are doing it is too slow for the current situation.” The commander looked toward the door where the guards were standing and wondered if he needed even more security for Brand. “Adding to this atmosphere is Admiral King’s desire to be as aggressive as possible by taking the war to the enemy. So, what we can do, Doc, is to get Brand healthy but at the same time protect him from every command in the navy who wants a piece of him.”
The doctor grimaced a bit saying, “Commander, I know you are doing your best to shield him from these requests, but if we can have just a few more days, Brand will be in much better shape.”
Jameson looked around to make sure no one was listening and whispered, “That was the case I was making to Admiral Willson. We must provide some protection for Brand otherwise every Tom, Dick, and Harry will want to control him. I sent a request that Brand be a direct report to Willson and therefore under the umbrella of Admiral King. No one is going to pull anything on King. The admiral said he would take it up with the Boss in the next couple of days and let me know. And, by the way, the admiral agrees that this would be the best thing for the navy and Brand.”
The doctor let out a deep breath. “Sir, I know that you are doing your best and if we can get Brand under one leader, he would not be pulled apart by so many competing claims. By the way, what is coming over for Brand to look at?”
“Sorry, Doc, but that’s classified. When the courier shows up, no one will be allowed in as Brand reviews the information. I don’t even know what is coming over, but I will be asked to sit in as he goes over the documents.”
“Well, at least we don’t have a gaggle of brass coming over to talk to him. Thank you for keeping it under control.” The doctor looked at his watch saying, “I better order up some food and drink for our young ensign so he can do his best and not be disturbed during this review.”
The commander smiled and watched as the doctor discussed the ensign’s food and made sure there was enough water.
About an hour later, a lieutenant junior grade came down the corridor with a marine guard. Sergeant Laird spied the officer first and gave the gunny the high sign. As the commander had requested, the gunny knocked on the door of Brand’s room to signal someone was heading their way. The commander put on his jacket and tightened his tie so he looked the part of an officer and gentleman. Brand, sitting on a chair next to a desk with a typewriter on it, slowly stood and adjusted his robe. The doctor shrugged knowing Brand wanted to be walking around more, so he let his usual “sit down” comment slide.
A knock on the door came, and the gunny opened it saying, “Lieutenant Sullivan from Admiral Willson’s office, sir. Please enter lieutenant, you are expected.” The gunny stood at attention as the J.G. walked into the room and stood at attention in front of the commander.
“Sir, Lieutenant Junior Grade Sullivan, reporting as ordered by Admiral Willson.” The J.G. waited for a reply.
“Sullivan, you must be new on the job. I have not seen you in the admiral’s office before.”
James
on looked at the young officer with a marine corporal standing behind him. He noticed the marine was armed with a Colt and Sullivan’s battered briefcase was handcuffed to his wrist. “Commander, I began my duties two weeks ago, so yes sir, I am brand new to the job.” Sullivan looked around the room and noticed the young man standing by the desk in a regulation navy robe and a lieutenant of the Naval Medical Corps standing next to him. He had been briefed by the admiral personally, which had never occurred before, that he was to bring the briefcase to this room at Bethesda and give it to a Commander Jameson who would be in the company of a young ensign who was a patient in the hospital. He was to give the briefcase to the commander and wait with his escort until the commander returned it. He did not have to ask the admiral how long he was to wait because he was informed the very first day on the job that if an admiral wanted to tell you something, he would. Otherwise, stay with the briefcase until it was returned or other orders were provided.
“Good to have you on board, Mr. Sullivan. I hope we will not keep you sitting around too long. You have no idea what you are carrying in that briefcase, do you, Mr. Sullivan?” The commander noticed the young man in front of him handled himself very well and did not seem too in awe of rank. He looked like a ROTC graduate from an Ivy League school, so he wasn’t too impressed by people in high places.
“No sir, I have no knowledge of its contents. I am to deliver it to you, have you sign for it, wait until you are finished with whatever is in the briefcase, then I will take possession of the case, and ask you to sign the return form stating you have returned all materials in the case. Those are my orders, and I hereby request you sign the form the corporal is holding.”
Lieutenant Junior Grade Sullivan nodded to the corporal who walked forward to the commander and handed him the forms, which of course had five copies and provided the commander a pen to sign them. Commander Jameson looked at the form, walked over to Brand’s desk and sat down to review the pages. He had learned long ago in this man’s navy that you never sign anything unless you read it thoroughly. After reading the form, he signed all five copies and returned them to the corporal.
As soon as the formalities were finalized, Sullivan gave the key to the corporal who unlocked the handcuff and handed the briefcase to the commander.
“Sir, is there any place the corporal and I can wait and perhaps get some food while you review the contents?” Sullivan was twisting the wrist where the handcuff was attached and looked happy to be rid of the briefcase.
“Doctor, could you find some place for these gentlemen to get some food and perhaps a few comfortable chairs while we go over these papers?”
“Lieutenant Sullivan, I am most happy to be of service to fellow members of the naval service.” He smiled that grin which everyone found so infectious. The corporal and the JG turned and followed the doc out.
The gunny put his head in the door asking, “Commander, shall I secure the room?” Meaning no one was allowed inside while the contents of the briefcase were being reviewed.
“Yes, Gunny, button up the hatch if you would. Admit only members of our team which includes the Doc.”
“Aye, aye Commander,” the gunny said and closed the door.
Jameson knew no one except Admiral King would get by the gunny and Sergeant Laird while the room was in a secure state. Jameson took the briefcase, entered the combination he had received prior to delivery, and opened the lock. Brand sat down, pulled out a pad of paper and pencils. Several pencils were colored so he could quickly note key facts or issues that concerned him. He had developed his own style of note taking when he was very young and had kept using it throughout his university days. Some of his note taking was in the form of shorthand, but not the secretarial kind. It looked more like some sort of math problem with all sorts of symbols. Only he could unscramble his notes.
“Okay, Mr. Brand, let’s see what the admiral sent us.” Jameson looked inside the old leather briefcase and found several files with red ribbons, plus several stapled documents that looked to be about forty or fifty pages in length. These did not have the ribbons, but each had Top Secret stamped on every page.
Jameson pulled out the first file titled, Summary of U-Boat Attacks January-February 1942. Handing it to the young ensign, he said, “James, I wish you luck with whatever you think you can do about these files. People are dying right off our own coast; I was briefed on this yesterday by Admiral Willson. The navy is under tremendous pressure to stop or slow these attacks, but so far the enemy is slaughtering our ships.”
Brand looked to his superior officer and friend. “I will do my best to help. I am not too sure what to do until I find out what the real situation is and what has been occurring on our side to stop it.”
Jameson said nothing more but handed James the other reports on ship movements, current air and naval assets with their locations, sighting reports, and intelligence estimates. James began to read.
The first sinking off the east coast of New Jersey was the SS Cyclops on January 11. Two more ships were sunk over the next two days with one sunk off Cape Hatteras. The last reported sinking was on February 6 for a total loss of twenty-five ships totaling 156,000 tons. More importantly, many were tankers moving oil from Gulf Coast ports to New York and beyond to the UK. Ships were sunk as far south as Miami Beach. Fires were spotted almost each night as ships were sunk within twelve miles of the mainland. Hundreds of merchant mariners had died, and more would die unless something was done.
A few planes had been sent up and down the coast with several sightings and supposedly some U-boats had been hit or sunk. No evidence supported the reported sinkings. One of the intelligence assessments stated, and Brand agreed, that novice flyers without any training would find it hard to hit anything, let alone a diving submarine.
The supporting materials detailed what had been done or requested but there appeared to be little accomplished. Brand knew about the large convoys going back and forth to Europe with both American and Allied ships escorting them. Brand scoured the materials and saw nothing being done in the way of coastal convoys. He also saw there was no blackout along the coast, and he read reports from newspapers all the way to Florida of people watching ships burn right off the coast as amusement parks were operating with every light on.
As he reviewed the reports, Brand began to get angry, not at the Germans but at his own countrymen. Several of the intelligence assessments asked for a total coastal blackout to keep the merchant ships from standing out like sore thumbs against the lighted shoreline. But the requests were turned down for commercial interests. No convoys were being set up because they had so few escorts. Senior staffs recommended ships sailing independently would fare better than unescorted convoys. Brand took out one of his red pencils and quickly did several calculations on this probability, finding the assessment totally false. Unescorted or lightly escorted convoys would provide a five-fold improvement in safety and Brand could prove it.
He spent about an hour going through the reports. As he continued to dig he became more concerned about the lack of clarity in leadership and unity of command. The navy did this, the army did that, the Air Corps did what it wanted, which did not include looking for submarines, and the merchant mariners were totally independent of everything. They did not want to take orders from the navy on the coastal routes like they were doing on the Atlantic crossings.
Brand peered at the commander, who was slowly slogging his way through the materials. Jameson could not read and digest the amounts of information as fast as he could so he thought he would summarize it all for his boss.
“Sir, if you would allow me to summarize what you are looking at as well as providing some suggestions that could help the situation immediately, I think we can finish this job.”
Jameson, knowing his young protégé was incredibly fast on the uptake, did not take offense at his comment but said, “James, if you have some ideas that could help, that would be great.”
“Sir, first there appears to b
e several issues of political will or lack thereof compounding a bad situation. This would be the blackouts. The senior leadership must get the lights turned out now. Otherwise, there will be even more slaughter. You know the science of backlighting a target as well as anyone, and by not going to full blackout a lot of ships and men will die.”
Jameson considered this a hard sell that would require the Chiefs of Staff or perhaps even the president to weigh in on. Civilian control in wartime is one of those sticky issues that weighs heavily in a democracy. Jameson nodded his concurrence and waved James on to his next point
“Sir, this was only a feeler attack. I calculate that based on the intelligence reports and information the Brits have given us on the capabilities of the German submarines, we are dealing with only five or six U-boats. This calculation shows the number of torpedoes that were probably expended, reports by survivors of cannon fire and the range of the Type IX boat we are facing. They have been incredibly successful, and I would think there are more boats on their way. They will probably do this in several waves and start exactly like this attack by beginning up north off Halifax and then work down to Florida. It would not surprise me if they also entered the Gulf Coast and maybe go all the way down into the lower Caribbean where there are lots of fat tankers coming out of Venezuela.”
James looked at one of pages of notes and made two more calculations. He looked up at Jameson saying, “I have some suggestions on how we could do some quick coastal convoys in the daylight hours, sneaking the ships into safe harbor at night. It will add three and a half days to their transit, but they will survive. Also, I need to better understand how planes search for submarines. Same goes for attacks by escorts both by depth charge and deck gun. How do they locate targets, how do they perform escort duties, how do they use electronics such as RADAR and ASDIC, etc.? I would like to talk to some of our submariners to get a better understanding of how they operate, which would give me insights on how the Germans run their boats. We could uncover flaws to help us attack the Germans and perhaps use this information to safeguard our own boats.”
U-Boat Scourge Page 10