Strike Force Red

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Strike Force Red Page 20

by C T Glatte


  She walked down the unfamiliar corridor and stepped through the impossibly narrow hatch to another section. She noticed the round door with the steering wheel-like latch. She understood they were used to seal off flooded compartments in case of disaster. The thought of being caught on the wrong side of one while water rushed in, nauseated her.

  There was no one in this section either and she wondered if she were heading in the wrong direction. The floor was angled downward so she figured she was heading toward the bow, which she hoped would lead to people. She stepped through to the next section and saw lots of busy submariners. The room was open but still not spacious. Men were crammed in chairs in front of complicated instruments, their hands in constant motion. She wondered why there were no women onboard and remembered that the Navy was the only branch that didn’t allow women into situations that might lead to combat. The Army had six divisions of women serving in artillery units, the Marines too, and obviously the Army Air Corps, but not the Navy.

  No one noticed her entrance. She stood still, watching the men work. There was an almost palpable tension in the air. She caught the whiff of men’s underarms; nervous sweat. She decided she’d stay right where she was. She wasn’t in the way and she felt better around the incessant activity.

  Lieutenant Rodrigues was the first to notice her. He was looking over the shoulders of two men with large headphones on their heads staring at a squiggly green line tracing along behind a glass screen. It looked high-tech and she wondered if it had anything to do with the radar domes that swept the skies telling her squadron of impending airstrikes. “Miss, you can’t be in here. Please go back to the sleeping quarters.”

  She was about to protest but thought better of it. Would she want some interloper in her space while she were preparing for combat? She smiled and apologized and ducked to wedge herself through the hatch when she heard Captain Willis. “Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?”

  She turned and smiled at the handsome Captain. He was much older but she couldn’t help being attracted to him. She blushed slightly at his half smile. “I - I just don’t like it back there. Too alone, I guess.”

  Captain Willis nodded and pointed to an empty chair. “Sit over there. But don’t move from the spot. When we get close, it’s going to get a little busy in here.”

  She nodded and looked apologetically to Lt. Rodrigues then said, “Thank you Captain,” but he was already back at his job, guiding his sub closer to the enemy fleet.

  “Come to periscope depth,” ordered Captain Willis.

  “Periscope depth, Aye,” answered Warrant Officer Suman. He started yanking and pushing a complicated assortment of handles and knobs. Soon the sub angled slightly upward.

  “Slow to one third.”

  “Slow to one third, aye.”

  Captain Willis stood in front of the periscope tower waiting until they were at the proper depth. On the other side, Quartermaster Henley was ready with a pencil and a notepad. Captain Willis asked, “Still have signal?”

  Sonarman Burnett answered, “Yes sir. Stronger now. Estimate four-thousand yards.”

  The Sea Serpent leveled out and WO Suman barked, “Periscope depth, Captain.”

  “Up Periscope.” The Periscope rose smoothly and Captain Willis had to lean down slightly to put his eyes to it. Henley peered up at the numbers marking the position of the scope, ready to call them out to the navigators waiting to plot the firing resolutions into the Torpedo Data Computer, or TDC. Willis moved the scope, finally stopping. “Contact. Mark.”

  Henley read off the numbers, writing them on a notepad as he did. The navigator read them back. “Down periscope.” The handles folded and the periscope went down smoothly. “All ahead half, and forty feet. we need to get closer.”

  “All ahead half, depth forty-feet, aye.”

  Captain Willis spoke into the ship-wide intercom system. “This is the Captain. We’ve got a lot of targets ahead, but we need to get closer for a clean shot at that carrier.” He hung the radio back on its hook and looked over at MaryAnn who was watching him with wide eyes. At first he worried the men might act differently with her in the middle of things but their professionalism shone through and they performed their duties in their usual efficient manner.

  He walked to her. He hadn’t noticed her good looks at first. He hesitated for an instant and she gave him a disarming smile. “Once we get close and fire, things will get a bit dicey around here. The Russians will know where we are as soon as we fire and that destroyer will be on us quick as a Labrador on a duck. You sure you want to stay up here?”

  MaryAnn nodded, “If it’s alright with you Captain, yes.” Her eyes darkened and she reached out and touched Willis’s arm. He looked into her eyes. “The Russian pilots on that carrier have wreaked havoc on our squadron. I’ve lost friends.” She shook her head, willing herself not to tear up. She squeezed his arm and hissed. “Sink that son-of-a-bitch, Captain.”

  He grinned and looked around the room. Everyone was grinning and nodding. He gave her a curt nod, “That’s the idea, Lieutenant.” He stepped back to the periscope. “Periscope depth.”

  “Periscope depth, aye.” Suman went about his business, pulling and pushing various levers and the sub angled upward again.

  Willis asked, “Burnett?”

  He immediately responded, “nearest target’s twenty-five hundred yards. I think its a destroyer, Captain.”

  Soon they leveled out, “Periscope depth, Captain.”

  “Up periscope.” He put his eyes to the slots turned slightly and stopped. Through the scope the sea was lapping up then fading away. He could tell the day was overcast, giving the sea a black look. He saw the dark silhouette of a Russian destroyer, a sub hunter. Beyond it he could see the immense aircraft carrier. “Damn.” He muttered. “Our heavy is at…Mark.”

  Henley read out the numbers, “345” The navigator read it back.

  “Down Periscope. Take us to heading 140 and sixty feet, all ahead full.”

  Suman repeated it and the drastic change in course could be felt as the sub descended and turned northeast.

  The men all looked to Captain Willis. He picked up the intercom. “Men, our target’s out there but there’s a destroyer running circuits back and forth. He’s between us and the carrier. We’ve got enough battery power to stay under for awhile. We’re going to move away, surface and race ahead of the fleet and let ‘em pass over. Once we’re inside their screen, we’ll take him out. Secure from battle stations.” He hung up the intercom and addressed the XO. “Get the men fed in shifts. Let the galley know.”

  MaryAnn could feel the tension fade away as the men realized they weren’t going into combat yet, and also the murmuring of disappointment.

  Stavos nodded, “Right away, Captain.”

  Willis looked to his guest, “You could probably use some food, Lieutenant.”

  Her stomach grumbled at the prospect. She’d been so tense, she’d forgotten her hunger but it came crashing back and she was suddenly famished. “Yes, Captain. That would be great.”

  In the small mess hall, MaryAnn plowed through every bit of food placed before her. Her freezing ordeal in the Pacific had sapped her energy and her body was like a sponge absorbing every morsel and calorie.

  Captain Willis along with Lieutenant Rodrigues and LCDR Stavos watched with fascination. They’d never seen a woman consume so much food. She finished her slice of cheesecake, using her finger to mop up the stray crumbs, then looked up at the staring officers. She turned crimson and gave them a sheepish grin, then put her hand over her mouth and apologized. “Oh my. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop once I started.” She used the corner of her cloth napkin to dab the corners of her mouth.

  The cook appeared and took her plate with a huge smile on his face. He leaned in as he did. “So glad you enjoyed it Lieutenant. Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?”

  Her eyes lit up and she nodded, “Oh yes, that would be lovely.”

  Captain Willi
s grinned, “Bring the pot out. I’d enjoy some too.”

  “Aye aye, Captain. Coming right up.”

  With her hunger finally satiated she asked, “When will you attack the fleet, Captain?”

  “We had to divert northeast to put some distance between us and them so they won’t pick up our engine sound. Once we’re far enough away we’ll surface and fire up the diesels, replenish the batteries then get in front, submerge and wait for them to come to us. It’ll be just getting dark by then and we can surface amongst the fleet and do some real damage.”

  She looked alarmed, “Won’t they see us?”

  “We have a low profile and it’ll be dark, so hopefully not. We’ll use torpedoes as much as possible but we also have the deck gun which is effective against most ship armor, particularly near the waterline.”

  She sipped her coffee, savoring the rich taste. “Then what?”

  “Then we slip beneath the waves and depending on how things go, stay silent until they stop looking for us.”

  She looked from one officer to the next, “And if they do find us?”

  The officers looked at the table. Captain Willis answered, “Then they’ll use depth charges. Our electric motors are much slower than our diesels so it’s difficult to get out from under them.

  The silence weighed heavy. She gave them her brightest smile, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to not be found out.”

  The day passed slowly but soon the constant hum of the diesel engines was enough to lull MaryAnn and many of the exhausted sailors, to get some much needed sleep.

  Hours later the Sea Serpent was hovering a hundred feet beneath the surface, motionless. According to their charts they were near a shelf of rock that jutted up from the depths of the sea. Over the past decade, with the influx of money for war readiness the manufacturing of submarines was high on the list and countless research and development missions had ensued along both coasts. One of the side benefits was the mapping of portions of the ocean floor, at least at the depths they could access.

  The sub was silent, engine off and cooled to avoid the inevitable sounds of a cooling engine. No one spoke, if something needed to be said, it was whispered. All loose items were secured and the men were in bare feet. The intercom was tuned to the sonar, so the entire crew could hear the thumping of screws approaching. The lead ship was a Russian destroyer out in front, pinging the waters, searching for the anomalous return that would tell them there was a submerged submarine lying in wait.

  The Sea Serpent was only yards from the ridge of rock and they hoped the sub-hunter’s return ping would be interpreted as the ridge and not a sub. The sound of the approaching destroyer filled the intercom system. The ‘ping’ was loud and getting louder.

  Captain Willis muttered to Stavos, “They’re going to pass directly overhead, dammit.”

  Stavos whispered back, “Worst scenario we could ask for. They won’t pick us out though. We’ll get lost in the clutter.” Willis nodded and showed him his crossed fingers.

  The next ‘ping’ was overhead and it sounded like death to the submariners. To MaryAnn it sounded like a mildly annoying disturbance but the effect on the crew was obvious. The men stared upward with glistening sweat beading on their foreheads. They hardly seemed to breathe, like they were watching to see if a deadly dragon noticed them stealing golden coins.

  The rumbling screws passed overhead, but then the pitch changed and the surface vessel changed course, turning sharp to go over the area again. No one dared move, as it slowed and sent out another blistering ‘ping.’ The tension was thick. Every eyeball was looking upward.

  The screws increased RPMs and the surface vessel moved north along its original course and speed. It pinged again, but this time it was far less intense as it moved away. There was an audible expulsion of air and the men smiled and wiped their brows and slapped each other’s backs, still careful to keep quiet.

  Minutes passed and soon they heard multiple screws churning up the sea. They were closing quickly. Captain Willis looked at his watch, it was 2330. He whispered, “Bring us to periscope depth, slow.”

  The order was whispered back and soon the submarine started rising straight up, like a cork as ballast tanks were filled with forced air. Warrant Officer Suman leveled out at periscope depth and whispered, “Periscope depth, Captain.”

  “Up periscope.” The scope slid up smoothly and Willis put his eyes into the cupolas. He hardly moved the scope. His body tensed and he licked his lips. He whispered, “Target, Mark.”

  Quartermaster Henley sang out, “190, Mark.” It was repeated at the navigator’s table and under the dim yellow light the shot was plotted into the TDC.

  Willis ordered, “Rig torpedoes for silent running. I want a four-shot spread on that carrier, rigged for nine feet.” The order was repeated and fed into the TDC.

  The navigator gave him a course and speed for the shots and Willis ordered, “Fire when ready.”

  With professional calm the gunner reached up and mashed a red button, “Fire one,” there was whoosh of venting air, “Fire two, fire three, fire four.”

  Henley started the stopwatch as soon as the first torpedo was out the tube. Everyone listened and the seconds were interminable. Henley whispered, “Ten seconds…five seconds…impact.”

  There was a rumble and a shock wave jostled the submarine. Captain Willis watched through the periscope. He could clearly see the outline of the Russian carrier against the darkening skyline. He knew he had it dead to rights. The first blossoming explosion ignited and for an instant the evening turned to day. It was followed by another great explosion. His grin was ear to ear. He pulled away and gave the scope to LCDR Stavos who eagerly looked in time to see the third hit. The rumbles coursed through the submarine, shaking dials and rattling anything not tightened.

  Stavos pulled away, giving it to Rodrigues. “Take a look, it’s glorious.”

  Rodrigues obliged and watched the burning vessel but there wasn’t a fourth explosion. The gunner barked, “Number four’s a dud.” A second later he proclaimed, “Ready for another spread, Captain.”

  Willis was about to order another salvo when there was a nearby explosion and the sub rolled violently to starboard. Men fell out of chairs and XO Stavos didn’t grip the periscope in time and fell hard, cutting his chin.

  Willis yelled, “Down periscope. We’ve been spotted, take us down, now.” He slapped the handles upright and the scope descended to the floor, nearly ripping Lieutenant Rodrigues’ right index finger off. He yelped and shook his bloody finger, but stumbled his way to the sonar post, and resumed his job.

  Sonarman Burnett’s face was white as a sheet. “Destroyer’s didn’t ping, must’ve spotted us somehow. He’s using his deck guns, not depth charges.”

  Suman worked the levers and the sub descended. Captain Willis barked a change in course and the sub turned, putting centrifugal force to port. Another explosion on the surface sent shock waves through the hull, but caused no damage.

  Burnett had his headphones off, the initial explosion nearly bursted his ear drums. He put them gingerly back on and listened through the ringing. “I’ve got fast moving screws coming from the north, must be our shooter.”

  Willis ordered another course change. “I want to go beneath the carrier and surface on the other side. He won’t be able to find us with all this noise.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Stavos got off the intercom radio and reported. “That shot caused light damage. There was a couple blown gaskets but it’s taken care of, Captain.”

  Burnett reported, “Hunter’s entering a racetrack pattern, searching for us. He’s pinging but it must be hard to hear. I’m getting secondary explosions from the carrier, Captain.”

  “Is it breaking up? I don’t want to go beneath it if it’s going to sink on top of us.”

  Burnett shook his head. “Negative. I’m not hearing that yet, Captain.”

  “If you do, tell me immediately.”

  “Ay
e, Captain.”

  “When we get to the other side and surface I want the deck guns manned in record time. We should be able to put a few good shots into the waterline and maybe finish her off.”

  The next few minutes were tense. The Sea Serpent continued her descent, finally leveling out at fifty-feet. LCDR Stavos took another call from engineering, “Captain, battery power down to thirty-five percent.”

  Willis nodded and asked, “Burnett, how’s it sounding?” The intercom had been turned off to keep more unexpected explosions from distracting them.

  Burnett pulled one side of the headphones to the side and responded. “Destroyer’s still searching but having no luck. Carrier’s screws have decreased RPMs. I haven’t heard any more explosions but there’s plenty of commotion coming from her. She’s definitely hurting, Captain.” He finished, “We’re passing beneath her now.”

  The entire crew looked up as if they could see through the metal skin of the Sea Serpent. After another minute, Burnett pressed the headphones to his ears then exclaimed, “I’m picking up another set of screws due west of the carrier. Sounds like a cruiser. She’s pinging but won’t hear us. I think we’ve got a shot at her sir.”

  “Tell me when we’re safely past the carrier.”

  Burnett nodded, “Aye.”

  “I want two shots on that cruiser before we surface and blast the carrier. Use the stern tubes.”

  Stavos nodded, “Aye, Captain,” and relayed the orders to the torpedo men and Quartermaster.

  Willis ordered, “Lieutenant Rodrigues, I want you leading the deck gunners. Make me proud, son.”

  Rodrigues grinned and moved from his station and took up beside the men waiting to ascend the ladder. He glanced over and saw Lieutenant Larkin staring at him. He grinned and tipped his officer’s hat. MaryAnn blushed and smiled back. Watching the men hustle around was like watching a finely led orchestra perform a difficult piece as though it was the simplest thing in the world. Rodrigues stepped toward her. “You doing okay Lieutenant?”

 

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