Willson had read this in the report, and King had commented on this as well. Willson jumped in with his question. “How does this thing kill a submarine if it has no explosive?”
The admiral’s aides had taken notice of his question and were wondering about this themselves.
“Admiral, the rocket is traveling at a speed as fast as any projectile fired from a small cannon, such as a twenty-millimeter rapid fire anti-aircraft cannon. This high speed is the weapon, not the explosive. I have calculated that a twenty-pound solid steel warhead will penetrate up to three inches of hardened steel. One rocket hitting a submarine on the surface would penetrate the outer and inner pressure hulls, taking away its best defensive weapon—the ability to dive beneath the waves.”
Brand watched Willson’s aides doing calculations on the speed of impact that their math skills could not hope to muster. His “punch” calculation showed the terminal velocity of one rocket hitting a submarine would put a three to four-inch hole through one side of the submarine and then splinter inside the boat causing great damage to equipment and people.
Willson glanced at Brand’s report, which showed some of the calculations substantiating the idea., “How soon could this be done?”
Brand knew most of the technology already existed. The only thing to build was a fast burning propellant for the rocket, plus the hardened steel projectile.
“I would say we could have a prototype by mid-summer with tests validating the weapon soon after. Training pilots and crewmen to use it will take longer, but this could be in the hands of the fleet by the end of the year.”
Willson made some notes, then asked, “You made some comments on the faster production of ships, escorts and the like. How would you accomplish this?”
Brand jumped on the question with his normal gusto. “Sir, moving American industry to full wartime production is the largest challenge we face in beating the enemy. We need more ships and planes and tanks and all the things that make them run. The old way of doing things will not work.” Brand’s hands were now gesturing to indicate the size of structures and numbers of units. The more he spoke, the more animated he became. “Mass production of tanks requires moving the auto industry into tank building. This is not that hard to do once the machine tools are set. Building a car or truck on an assembly line is the hard part, and we have the assembly lines. We can expand our production of planes the same way by expanding factories, more out-sourcing of small parts and large assemblies like engines.”
Brand picked up a glass of water and took a long sip. He knew he was getting into an area which was already in discussion but he thought his ideas might be of help. “Sorry, sir, if I may continue?” Admiral Willson nodded his head for the young man to continue. He enjoyed Brand’s bravado and his seemingly never-ending flow of ideas. “Ships, though are the problem. It takes three to four years to build a battleship or a fleet carrier. My thoughts on this are to go back to school and learn from Henry Ford and mass produce the same items over and over. We cannot make constant modifications of a specific type like I have seen on the submarines at New London. Merchant ships could be built in three months or less. New destroyer escorts could be built in six months or less. We just have to rethink how we do things and experiment using sound engineering and logistical management.”
The aides were stunned to hear such thoughts coming from a young ensign. What stunned them was the admiral’s response, “I agree. There is much thought being given to these recommendations. The War Production Board is evaluating several of these concepts now, but you have some excellent ideas and plans specific to the navy. I think I will need your help on these later. One last thing or maybe two, tell me about the escort carrier and homing torpedo.”
“Sir, the escort carrier concept the Brits have used was aimed at fighting off German aircraft, and now they want to expand this to convoy anti-submarine duties. They have lost some of their small carriers, which were converted merchant vessels, to both aerial attacks and submarine attacks. The recommendations show a need for the anti-submarine variant working initially with convoys and then with hunter-killer groups as more escorts become available. Additional escort carriers can support ground attacks, build small ship formations and movement of short-legged fighters and bombers to resupply the fleet carriers. These ships can be built from the ten to twelve thousand-ton hulls of tanker types and completed in months instead of the years it takes to build one of the new fleet carriers.”
The admiral completed his notes then signaled for the next topic—homing torpedoes.
Brand continued his analysis. “The acoustic or homing torpedo is an idea that has floated around for some time. The key is our ability to provide power for the sonar detector and the ability of the torpedo to follow these location beams to the submarine. I feel that with our increasing technology capability, this type weapon could be made viable in a year and implemented in eighteen months.”
Willson looked at the young man and at his notes. How could someone so young come up with so many ideas, some of which were now on the drawing board, but also others that were only suggestions? It was exciting for him to watch the young genius at work and his calmness in expressing his views in front of senior officials. He also knew one of the ideas on the development list was moving steadily toward completion, the variable proximity fuse for anti-aircraft usage. But the ensign’s ideas were even better than the team who were working on it.
“Mr. Brand, tell me about the proximity fuse.”
“Well, Admiral, I know the researchers at the National Defense Research Committee have been working on this and the original British design has been improved a great deal. Using commercial hearing aid tubes, modified by Western Electric and others, these designs should handle the enormous stress of being shot from a cannon and then use constructive and destructive interference to activate the explosion. Basically, think of a Doppler shift from the oscillator frequency by the relative motion of the fuse and the target. By getting this into production and with additional refinements, we can improve the lethality of each shot by five to ten times. This will save countless lives and when one thinks of the shells expended to hit one airplane flying at three hundred miles per hour, well, the cost savings are enormous in both dollars and the logistics to transport them to the war zone.”
Willson was familiar with the work being done but had not thought of it in this way. By introducing a better way to down an enemy plane faster and at lower cost in terms of ammunition, it would be a great advancement and save lives and ships. He had seen reports about the amount of ammunition expended at Pearl Harbor with only a dozen Jap planes shot down. Not a good showing for the navy.
“Brand, get connected on this project and see what you can do to move it along. This would be most helpful to the fleet, and if we can get this sooner, we will be much better off.”
Willson checked the report and told his aides, “Captain Stone, I want you and your team to look at current fleet build projections and give me an updated report, so I can review it. Then give it to Brand to see what else he can do with it. Commander McFarland, get with the science office for an update on the radar program and the proximity fuse. Admiral King wants us to be more involved in making these projects top priority.”
Both the captain and the commander said in unison, “Yes sir. Will that be all, for now, sir?”
“Yes, gentlemen, give me your notes on what you heard and think concerning this briefing. And, keep it short too. I would like your ideas, not a novel, understood?”
Both men stood and replied, “Yes sir,” then both left the office with confused looks on their faces. They had heard about this young man and the scientist commander, but did not know of their involvement with the admiral, nor had they known of some of the things being discussed. They understood they had a lot to learn and to be careful around the commander and the ensign because they had a major “in” with the big boss.
After the two aides left, Willson turned to Commander Jameson,
“Both of those men are top flight staff officers and want to get back to sea duty. I think by learning a bit more while in these roles, they will become better fleet commanders, but they need to think beyond their old way of doing things. Too many officers in our fleet have been around too long, probably me as well. Admiral King is doing all he can to find the best and brightest to lead the navy.”
Willson paused to scan his notes and thought more about what he had just said. He looked back at the two scientists and continued. “Some men are cut out for command at sea, he tells me, while others are good at staff work. He’s afraid there are not enough of both and with the growth of the navy to thousands of ships and millions of men, we are going to have to place a premium on leadership and smart thinking. But this is not our topic for today, just keep this to yourselves as you see people moved around at an alarming pace. Some are going to fail but hopefully not so bad as to lose ships and people, but this is a war. Loss is something we must deal with.”
Jameson and Brand listened to the admiral who was staring into space as he spoke. His job was to do the bidding for his boss, and as King’s role grew, Willson would be the enforcer. He did not look forward to that part of the job. Willson had the authority to interpret the musings of Admiral King, and put them into orders meaning life or death. It could enhance or kill a career, and possibly win a victory or lose a battle.
Jameson for one knew from his Annapolis education the mantle of authority is a tricky thing and some men are not cut out for command at higher levels. He did not envy Willson or King. They would pay the price just like any officer in the fleet or any marine or sailor who had to face the enemy. Hopefully, he thought, that the work he was engaged in with Brand would help win the war sooner and with fewer casualties, both physical and emotional.
Willson refocused and asked, “Well, gentlemen, you seem to have been made members of the inner circle or as I put it, the King’s trust. Are you ready to do some more work for the chief?”
Both Jameson and Brand offered a hearty, “Yes sir.” They wondered how Admiral Willson would look when this war was over, if he survives.
“Good to have you on board. The first order of business will be to get you connected with the surviving German sub crew. It will be interesting to see if you can glean anything from the Germans that would be helpful in your work. Remember, Jameson, keep a tight leash on Mr. Brand and keep him safe.”
“Yes sir, I will make sure Brand keeps a good distance from the Nazis and hopefully we can learn something of use to our people. Thank you, sir, for making this possible.”
Willson set the report aside and offered a final comment, “One more thing. It seems you are invited to dinner with Admiral King. This invitation includes Lieutenant Flannigan as well. A car will be sent for the three of you at 1700 hours. Be on your best behavior, Brand, and look the part of a naval officer. Jameson, make sure Flannigan is squared away and wearing all his decorations. Same goes for you two as well. I want to see the DFC on both of you. Got it?”
“Aye, aye sir.” Jameson looked at Brand and shrugged. “Admiral, may I inquire as to where we are going for dinner?”
Willson, knowing the entire story of the dinner, smiled. “No, Jameson, I can’t help you out on this. I have been sworn to secrecy on lots of things around here, and this is one of them. Just be ready and be on time. Have one of your cars with the gunny and one of the other marines follow you. They will be taken care of separately for dinner. It is a wonderful place for sure, but I’m never too sure about the day’s special.” Again, he grinned.
Both Jameson and Brand had puzzled expressions on their faces, and both wondered what all the mystery was about. They would learn in a few hours’ time what a special dinner looked like.
*****
Jameson and Brand arrived back at the Bethesda house around 1300 hours. They had remained at the admiral’s office meeting with various aides who offered their time and services with various reports and activities of the team. The German sub crew was locked up in Charleston, South Carolina, and efforts were being made for a meeting with some of the prisoners. Brand wanted a cross section of officers and enlisted men, especially any surviving junior officers and engine room crew. Brand was working up a set of questions and opening gambits to hopefully trick some of the crew in offering up information they might be unaware they were divulging.
Jameson had called the Bethesda house earlier to alert Flannigan about dinner. He wasn’t happy being told he would be having dinner with Admiral King, but orders were orders and he would comply. His best uniform needed pressing, and all his devices, ribbons, and other uniform adornments needed to be attached in the correct order. He and Gunny Jones were making sure all looked good, including the Sam Brown belt still a proscribed part of a marine officer’s uniform. One of the corporals was busy polishing his shoes and the brass buttons to ensure the lieutenant looked his best. They were all proud to serve with Flannigan. Every man in the unit found his story compelling, plus he was very approachable, which was a rare thing in an officer.
Jameson and Brand also got cleaned up. Both shaved again to make sure they met navy regulations. Their uniforms were being pressed by the chief who knew a good officer was always well groomed, and since this assignment beat most of his previous duty stations, he didn’t want anyone thinking his commanding officer was out of uniform.
Jameson asked Gunnery Sergeant Jones who should accompany him in the staff car that would follow the officers. The gunny thought hard about it, knowing Admiral King always liked to see new people as well as old hands, he picked Sergeant McBride to go along. They made sure the car was as clean as possible and had it washed before the appointed time. The gunny and McBride were all decked out in their best uniforms with service ribbons and awards correctly attached.
On schedule, Brand, Jameson, and Flannigan waited in the house for their ride to show up, while Gunny and Sergeant McBride stood outside by their staff car ready to follow the admiral’s car. Five minutes past the designated time, a navy staff car appeared. It was the usual Ford, a late 1941 model in navy blue driven by a navy petty officer. Next to him was a lieutenant with the gold ropes of an admiral’s aide flowing off this right shoulder. The petty officer and the lieutenant saluted Commander Jameson, and the petty officer held the back door.
“Commander Jameson, my name is Bitner, Alex J. I will be your escort to the dinner. Admiral King and the rest of the party will be there when we arrive. If you will please get in the car, I will inform your sergeant as to where we are going so he can follow us.” The lieutenant moved over to the gunny who came to attention along with Sergeant McBride.
“Gunny, this card has the address of the location where we are meeting Admiral King. You will follow us and stay right behind as we enter the compound. You will be directed where to park once we are inside. Any questions?”
“No sir. We will be right behind you,” answered the gunnery sergeant as he read the address of their destination.
Once they entered the car, Sergeant McBride asked, “Where are we going, Gunny? What’s all the mystery about?”
“Just shut up and drive.” Gunny read the card again, watching the car in front of them carrying the three officers in the back seat. “When we get to where we are going, don’t say a goddamn thing unless you are spoken to. Understand?”
“Gee, Gunny, I just wanted to know where we are going. I don’t know many places in D.C., and I don’t want to get lost.”
“Just drive, McBride, just drive.” The gunny looked again at the card and said out loud to no one in particular, “I’ll be a son of a bitch.” He was very proud of the men riding ahead of him and very proud to be a marine.
As the car approached the main gate of the presidential mansion, all three men in the back seat stared in amazement. The admiral’s aide asked them to have their military identification cards ready. A marine with a submachine gun and a uniformed police officer waved them through. They drove up to the main portico where they were
again eyed by a marine guard and a secret service agent. They entered the building and were told to wait in the main hallway. All three voiced their excitement and utter astonishment at being in the house of the commander in chief. Finally, a secret service agent and a White House butler led them to the president’s side office where he hosted his cocktail hour for various guests. When they entered, they did not see the president, but did see four men in suits, three were familiar to Brand.
The first, whom Brand did not know, was Dr. Vannevar Bush, chairman of the National Defense Research Committee. He was also president of the Carnegie Institute and had developed a close relationship with the president through his contacts with Harry Hopkins, who served as FDR’s closest advisor and lived at the White House. The other three were Dr. Frank Jewett, president of the National Academy of Science and Bell Laboratories; Dr. James Conant, president of Harvard University; and Dr. Karl T. Compton, president of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Each had met young Brand at various stages of his career.
Conant was the first to notice Brand. “James, you look like a real sailor. I am so happy to see you again. I am pleased that the president managed to find you out there in San Diego and bring you back to Washington.”
Before Brand could say anything, the others came over and shook hands with Brand and introduced Dr. Bush. “Vannevar, this is the young man we told you about several months ago. Meet Dr. James Brand. James, this is Dr. Bush.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Dr. Bush. I have read many of your articles and papers. It’s super to have this opportunity to finally meet.”
U-Boat Scourge Page 23