The woman, assuming they were just a group of soldiers trying to hook up with the main Army, said, "It's just up ahead about two miles. More soldiers than I've ever seen in one place. Tents for miles to see."
After the women were out of view, Conroy ordered the squad into the woods. "Dismount," said Conroy.
"It seems we've come upon a major part of the Southern forces, none other than Robert E. Lee's Army. Tarback, Cummings, you two stay here with the horses. The rest of us will go ahead on foot to see what we can find out."
That woman wasn't exaggerating, thought Conroy, as he saw the camp in the distance. It was a sea of tents. He could also see what appeared to be an ammunition dump area next to a vast artillery section.
They continued through the woods to get a better view. Conroy dictated his observations into his recorder just as he did on the first reconnaissance mission almost three months ago. "I need your eyes and ears, guys. Just tell me what you see, and don't forget to take pictures with your phones."
They walked through the trees to get a view of a large field. An infantry company was going through a combat drill. They were arranged in platoons of sixteen soldiers and then further spaced apart into eight man squads. Conroy was amazed how the men stood, marched and even ran shoulder to shoulder. This is the concept of the firing line, a military doctrine that lasted for centuries. By modern military analysis, the tactic was as deadly as it was dumb. The idea was to enable an officer to see a hole in the line and plug it with a fresh soldier. Their rifles were antique by twenty-first century standards, but they were not inaccurate. From what he had read, Conroy knew that those muskets now had rifling in them and could shoot a bullet with accuracy from 300 yards. From where he stood behind a tree, Conroy figured he could pick off soldiers one by one. If he had 25 other riflemen with him they could leave a pile of bodies in no time flat. But even without soldiers shooting from behind trees, a few cannons firing canister shot could shred a formation of men. That's what happened (will happen?) in Pickett's Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg. It all looks very brave and honorable, but it's also stupid, thought Conroy. Where’s the honor in offering your body up to be killed.
Conroy wanted to get a better view of the ammunition and artillery area. Besides the cameras on their phones, Conroy had a Nikon camera with a telephoto lens. Conroy climbed a tree and settled on a couple of crossed branches. He had a perfect view of the artillery and the ammunition wagons. He knew the wagons carried ammo because he saw a soldier retrieve bags of gun powder from behind the door.
He did a rough count of the artillery, which was neatly parked in rows and columns. He counted 25 caissons, the two wheeled carts that transported ammunition. Each caisson carried two ammunitions chests. He also counted 50 twelve pounder howitzers and 55 twelve pounder Napoleon cannons. Looking further to his left he saw a battery of 45 twenty pounder Parrot rifles, which were cannons that had rifling in their barrels. Next to the twenty pounder Parrots were 50 ten pounder Parrots. Although these weapons may be primitive compared to the artillery Conroy was trained in, they could pack a punch.
As Conroy surveyed the enormous encampment his eyes came upon a man on a horse who Conroy recognized from countless old photographs. There he was, on his faithful horse Traveler, Robert E. Lee himself. Just as he appears in the old photos, Lee always looked as if he knew a picture or sculpture was about to be taken of him. Maybe that's how he got his nickname, Marble Man. Conroy focused his camera, steadied it, and snapped about a dozen pictures of Lee.
After Lee went back inside his tent, Conroy returned his gaze to the artillery and ammunition carts. Including alleyways between the rows and columns of guns, Conroy estimated the area to be about the size of a football field. The ammunition carts took up about a quarter acre. This is one mother lode of ordnance, thought Conroy.
Conroy planted a laser tracker at the edge of the trees to enable a drone or missile to track on the area.
The second part of their mission was already a success. Without expecting to, the SEALs found Robert E. Lee's Army. Now it was time to proceed with the first part of the mission, to capture Bradley.
Chapter 72
At 9 a.m. on July 8, Phillip Bradley sat in the waiting room outside of Jefferson Davis' office in Richmond. Stephen Mallory, the Secretary of the Confederate Navy, had been with Davis for 45 minutes. Both men had been briefed by General Beauregard about this mysterious naval officer. They had also been given an extensive report of the huge explosion near Beauregard's headquarters.
Bradley hated cooling his heels, but he didn't have much control over the situation. At least the waiting room was comfortable. A large awning outside the window blocked the direct rays of the easterly morning sun. The temperature was in the high 70s, and the humidity wasn't oppressive. He sat on a comfortable leather chair looking at his notes. The cruise missile attack on the weapons camp changed Bradley's narrative, to say the least.
Beauregard suspected, a suspicion he shared with Davis and Mallory, that Bradley may have lured the General to the camp only to have him killed by the rocket fired from the ship. Had it not been for his insistence on lunch at his headquarters, Beauregard would have been blown to bits. Bradley could have jumped behind a rock at the last moment, Beauregard speculated.
Finally, Bradley was escorted into Jefferson Davis' office, although not as the conquering hero that he had hoped to be.
Davis and Mallory greeted Bradley and shook his hand. Missing was the typical smile when a person meets another for the first time. Davis gestured toward a chair, and Bradley sat.
"General Beauregard told us about your interesting story in some detail," said Davis. Bradley imagined Beauregard telling them that this nut job thinks he's from the twenty-first century.
"Clearly, Commander," said Davis, "the story as recounted to us by General Beauregard is a strange tale indeed. Because we only heard it second hand, please give us your summary of who you are and how you got here."
Bradley summarized of the strange days of the USS California and her travel through time. "Gentlemen, I realize that the story sounds unbelievable. Not one person on my ship would disagree with that. But we found evidence beyond a doubt to convince us that we had traveled, somehow, through time."
Bradley then told them that Captain Patterson, along with other officers from the California, had already met with Lincoln and Navy Secretary Wells. He did not mention the Operation Gray Ships deception.
"Because we have the hindsight, or better stated, the foresight of history, we know that a major battle will take place at Manassas, Virginia on the 21st of this month, near Bull Run Creek. Three months ago we were able to predict the attack on Fort Sumter to the minute. The Battle of Manassas, or the Battle of Bull Run as it's known in the North, will happen, gentlemen, less than two weeks from today."
Davis and Mallory were well aware of the upcoming battle, but were surprised that this man knew the exact day.
"Tell us, Commander, from your knowledge of history," said Davis, "how did the battle go?"
"What was expected to be a Union victory turned out to be a triumph for the South. Both sides were inexperienced, but the Confederacy won the day, primarily by destroying Union artillery."
"And how does this involve you, Sir?" Davis asked Bradley.
"History will change, Mr. President, because of the involvement of a Gray Ship, the USS California. The gigantic explosion that destroyed the weapons I had offered to General Beauregard was caused by a weapon known as a Tomahawk Cruise Missile. I believe the General told you about its destructive force. At the Battle of Manassas, that weapon and many more like it will be used against the Confederacy, or at least that is the Union's plan. But I have put into motion an alternative plan."
"Please give us the details of your alternative, Commander," said Mallory.
"I have a colleague on the ship, another man of the South, who is in charge of all of the major weapons. He knows how to disable them, and will do so before July 21st. Manass
as will occur with no Gray Ship assistance."
"So history will unfold as it has been written," said Davis, his skepticism starting to wane.
"More than that, Sir," said Bradley. "I have studied the Battle of Manassas in great detail. I can advise all of the Generals involved just what the Union maneuvers will be. The Southern victory will become a smashing triumph."
Mr. Secretary," said Davis, "see to it that this man is sworn in as a Confederate naval officer with the rank of Captain."
"Yes, Sir," said Mallory. But can we trust this man? Mallory wondered.
I hope Chief Ray is being cautious, Bradley thought.
Chapter 73
Near Bali, in the Dutch East Indies, Malcolm Holmes, an English wildlife artist, painted his favorite subject, the monarch butterfly. He drew a sketch first, making sure to capture the beautiful coloration of the butterfly's wings. It was tricky, of course, because the wings were flapping. Holmes noticed a cloud of pollen as the butterfly's wings disturbed the air. He made a note on his sketch to make sure to put the pollen cloud into the painting.
On July 9, 1861, off the Northwest coast of Africa, a zone of low atmospheric pressure formed. At the same time a light wind developed in the upper atmosphere. The combination of low pressure near the surface of the ocean and the upper atmospheric wind resulted in a tropical depression, which would soon become a tropical storm.
The storm began its journey toward the East Coast of the United States.
***
On the morning of July 12, 1861, Lt. Kathy Cooney, the California's meteorologist, asked to speak to the Captain. Wind driven rain pelted the windows on the bridge, and the howling of gusts sounded throughout the ship. The sea was turning rough, with white capped waves growing to six feet. Cooney had two observations, neither of which was good. The cloud formations the night before and at sunrise foretold a large weather front heading toward the California from the Southwest. What really concerned her was that both of the ship's barometers, the instruments that measure atmospheric pressure, were dropping fast. Like rocks.
"Captain, it's time to duck for cover," said Cooney.
Lt. Wayne Bellamy, the ship's Navigator, was on the Bridge. "We're not far from Baltimore Harbor, Captain," said Bellamy. "ETA one hour if we can maintain 20 knots."
"Make for Baltimore, Lieutenant," said the Captain.
"Recommend you come to course 098 and maintain a speed of 20 knots," Bellamy said to the OOD.
The OOD then called for the boatswain's mate of the watch to sound his pipe over the PA system. "This is the Officer of the Deck. All hands prepare for heavy weather. Stay off weather decks unless absolutely necessary."
Ashley called Nick Wartella, the Engineering Officer. "Nick, we need to do a fast costume change."
Wartella called Jeff DeLouker and Nancy Forsyth, the "costume designers. "I've put out the call to the Gray Ship Gang," said DeLouker. "We've drilled for this and everyone knows where they have to be. I'm going down now to supervise."
"Be careful, Jeff," said Wartella.
The Gray Ship Gang heavy weather drill called for each team to report to their assigned places. The California cruised under the name of USS New York that day, and she would soon be the California again. The nameplate USS New York was removed and the two large boards with the ship's number were to be taken down. The large fore and aft structures that were designed to look like gun turrets were trickier. Forsyth had designed them so that the walls could be folded in on one another like the sides of a box. The long water pipes that were made to look like guns were removed and lashed to the deck. After the gang folded down the walls of the wood structures, they draped heavy chains across each resulting pile of wood and secured it to the deck. During drills, the entire operation could be accomplished in less than 20 minutes. But this was not a drill, and the winds were gale force, with a sustained blow of 40 mph gusting to 60 mph.
The four man team assigned to take down the wooden number boards was having a difficult time. They had just taken down the starboard number when a gust picked up the board like a paper envelope. One of the sailors fractured three ribs as he tried to hold onto the board and was dragged into a rail. The board sailed past the missile batteries and took a downward trajectory as it approached the stern. Jeff DeLouker was on the stern supervising the nameplate removal. The number board smashed into his back, knocking him overboard. Everyone screamed "man overboard," and hurled life rings toward DeLouker. He waved his hands, confirming that he was conscious. Nancy Forsyth sprinted to the rail, having just seen her friend hurled into the ocean. "Hang on Jeff," she screamed.
The word reached the bridge in less than 15 seconds that someone was in the water. The Quartermaster of the Watch reached for the ship's horn and sounded six short blasts, the man overboard signal. The Officer of the Deck gave rudder commands to the helmsman, steering into a Williamson, or Life Saving, turn. This maneuver was invented by a navy man during World War II as a way to turn a ship and end up in the same spot facing in the opposite direction. With a bit of luck, the overboard officer would be there. Because of the building seas, the turn was difficult, the bow of the ship rising and crashing back to the water as the ship made its agonizing maneuver. When the turn was completed, a lookout spotted DeLouker 30 yards off the starboard bow. The OOD guided the ship toward DeLouker, bringing her hull against the wind and sea to create a "lee," an area of calm to make it easier to haul the man aboard. It also created a gut wrenching sensation on the ship as the heavy seas crashed against the hull, causing her to take nauseating rolls.
After DeLouker was plucked from the sea, the ship turned once again to steam toward Baltimore. They had lost valuable time with the man overboard incident, time that enabled the storm to worsen.
The entrance to the harbor was deep enough so that running aground wasn't a major concern. The California entered the harbor at a speed of 10 knots. The wind was still fierce, blowing at 50 knots with gusts over 75, but at least the embrace of land at the harbor entrance made the seas less frightening. The Captain ordered the anchor dropped, and the California was finally safe.
Damage control reports to the bridge gave Ashley a sense of relief. The ship suffered no major structural problems, just a few bent rails. The weapons, and the platforms they were mounted on, were not damaged.
It was a fast moving storm and within an hour, the winds had calmed down. It was 1400 hours. Ashley decided to stay the night anchored in the harbor to give the crew a break to nurse bruises and contusions from slamming into bulkheads. The cooks in the mess were most appreciative.
Nick Wartella and Nancy Forsyth were at DeLouker's bedside in sick bay. As he was hurled overboard, DeLouker's ribs made furious contact with the ship's rail, fracturing four of them. "If you guys are here to cheer me up," said DeLouker, "please do not fucking make me laugh."
The California dodged a bullet, Ashley thought, but she knew there were more storms to come.
Chapter 74
On July 11, at 0930 hours, Union Brigadier General Irwin McDowell and his aide, Col. James Burns met with Marine Major Richard Carrubba in CIC to begin preparations for the upcoming Battle of Bull Run. The Captain had ordered Carrubba and Conroy, upon his return, to be the key ground combat contacts since Col. Bingham had been killed. They had a map of the area around Manassas spread out in front of them, as well as earmarked books from the ship's library that described the battle. The purpose of the meeting was to pick targets for cruise missile strikes.
The consensus was that the California would concentrate its firepower on the Confederate artillery and ammunition placements. General McDowell was given a radio, and would communicate with the California during the battle. Drone pilots Lt. Bob Nathan and Lt. Andrew Cinque attended the meeting, along with Lt. Russ Colombo, the pilot of the Apache Attack Helicopter.
McDowell felt chastened that the history books showed that his efforts at Bull Run would result in defeat. Did he really need these mystical weapons from another century to wi
n the day? he wondered. But the practical military man in him trumped his thoughts of romantic martial glory. It was his job to defeat the enemy, and to defeat him by whatever means possible.
"Gentlemen, are you confident that these weapons can turn the tide of battle in our favor?" McDowell asked. Rather than go into lengthy detail, Conroy thought, why not just show this guy what will happen. He asked McDowell and Burns to move to a computer in the corner. He inserted a Navy training video into the CD-ROM drive and hit play. The video was an instructional film all about the Tomahawk Cruise Missile. They watched as the Tomahawks obliterated target after target before their eyes. Conroy then put in a video of drones and the Apache Helicopter firing Hellfire missiles. He looked at McDowell. The General said nothing, he only smiled.
The Battle of Bull Run was 10 days away.
Chapter 75
The SEALs arrived at the outskirts of Richmond on the morning of July 12. Conroy ordered the men to tie up the horses in a wooded area, leaving Tarback behind to tend to them. They would proceed on foot and patrol in three groups. Their orders were to take photographs and to dictate comments, especially about possible missile targets. If stopped, the protocol was to say that they were to deliver a message to the War Department. Each pair of SEALs had one two-way radio. They all had simple code words to report to Conroy.
Their main target, Phillip Bradley, had suddenly stopped transmitting the beacon signal of his location. Conroy correctly assumed that Bradley had taken his batteries out of his radio to conserve power. Without that beacon, he would be almost impossible to find. Their orders were to call off the search no later than July 13, the next day, if they hadn't found Bradley.
Conroy, who patrolled with Petty Officer Jordan, sent out a message to the others. "Need more hay," meaning, patrol and gather information.
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