Fighting Her Father's War: The FIghting Tomcats

by M. L. Maki

  NUMBER 2 ENGINE ROOM

  MM1 Oscar Hammond is the Machinist Mate of the Watch (MMOW), the senior guy in the engine room. He’s from Roanoke, Virginia, having served in the Navy for sixteen years, all of it on tin cans. He likes the responsibility and the autonomy of a small crew because there’s not enough khaki for a lot of micro-managing, and a first class generally has some pull. Listening the captain’s announcement, nobody has to tell him the score. The captain is preparing to sacrifice the ship.

  He looks at the six watch standers for whom he is responsible, the youngest is the messenger watch, Fireman Greg Newburg from Oregon who’s only seventeen. “Boys, I want everyone on the upper level. Newburg, you’re the messenger, which means you can leave. Get your ass topside.”

  “But, Ham, I’m part of the watch team. If…if you are all staying, I should too.”

  “Like hell, kid. I say go, you go. You got the brave gene, but you seem to lack the smart gene, get out of here. Now!” Hammond watches the dejected kid leave, relieved that he listened.”

  The lower level watch, MMFN Kevin Jacobson, poking his head up the ladder, witnesses the exchange between his LPO and the messenger. “What’s up, Ham?”

  “Just get over here.” He gathers his crew, confused because they didn’t hear the Captain, “We’ve got torpedoes inbound. The captain’s expecting to lose the ship. Flash gear on, and remember how to get out of here. Everyone else is up on the main deck. Oil temperatures good?”

  The turbine generator, distilling unit, and lower level watch all nod yes. Main engine watch, MM3 Calvin Taylor, says, “My engine is a bit hot because of the bell.”

  “Make your adjustments, then get back here.”

  CHAPTER 9

  STODDERT, FIRE ROOM 1

  BT2 Olly Larson is at the aft burner front on the lower level between the two boilers. It is the unofficial hang out in the fire room. His brother, BT1 Bob Larson, is the Boiler Technician of the Watch (BTOW). As the senior guy, they are all looking to him for answers. “Guys, this is no drill. Sounds like we’re going to take a hit. The old man will warn us to brace, so remember what to do: bent knees, mouth open, grab onto something solid. After the hit, check and make sure the boiler is on line. They’ll need the steam to fight the ship.”

  The upper level watch, BT3 Donny Petrakis from Miami, Florida, asks, “What if we’re hit in the fire room?”

  “Well, my Greek friend, then it’s been nice knowing you, because we’ll be meeting our maker.”

  STODDERT, BRIDGE

  It’s a slow-moving ballet. The Vinson picks up speed, kicking its rudder over to the left to push the stern, with its delicate shafts and rudders, away from the oncoming torpedoes. The Stoddert is racing parallel with the Vinson, placing itself between the torpedoes and their intended target. CDR Douglas orders the lee helm, “All stop. Order the men to evacuate the engine and boiler rooms.” He picks up the 1MC, “We’re about to be hit by two or three torpedoes. Stay braced until the last torpedo hits. If it’s necessary to abandon ship, the task force has been warned to pick us up. I would like to thank each and every one of you. I’m proud to be your captain. Now brace for shock. Brace for shock.”

  A huge geyser of water shoots out from near the bow, just forward of the 5-inch gun. Stoddert rises up on the bow, heeling over to starboard.

  SUPPLY DIVISION BERTHING ABOVE SONAR

  ST2 Givens is the last to evacuate sonar. He’s running through the water tight door into 2nd division berthing when the torpedo hits and explodes 30 feet behind him. The explosion crushes the bulkheads around the forward EDG, sonar, and the log room. Givens manages to stagger to his feet, and through the smoke and darkness, feels his way aft on the tilting deck.

  NEAR MOUNT 51

  ET3 James Stakes is caught on the weather deck hanging onto a bracket, and is blown off his feet. His friend, FC3 Carl Smith, is braced near the port water tight door when the explosion hits. The door slams open, breaking his right arm. They end up on the deck only feet from each other as water rains down on them.

  NUMBER 2 ENGINE ROOM

  As the bow settles, the second torpedo hits engine room number 2 in the aft of the boat. The engine room crew had just started evacuating, but MM3 Calvin Taylor, was on the far side when the order came down. He just makes it to the front of the engine when the torpedo hits. The explosion, in microseconds, creates a bubble in the hull that shatters in a storm of molten shards and shrapnel. They fly into the pristine white and terracotta engine room, breaking steam lines and shattering sight glasses.

  The main engine takes most of the blast, but MM3 Taylor is killed instantly. As the steam lines rupture, the area now rapidly filling with seawater, is filled with 600-degree steam, scalding those not killed in the blast. FN Newburg was in the aft escape trunk, un-dogging the hatch above him, when the torpedo hit. He managed to hang onto the ladder rungs in the trunk, which protected him from the worst of the blast. Pushing the hatch open, he crawls onto the main deck with minor burns and ringing ears.

  Stoddert’s roll, 30 degrees to starboard, makes it hard to walk. Debris and wounded are everywhere. The windows of the ships store are shattered, and bubblegum, candy, socks, and razors are underfoot. Steam is escaping from cracks in the deck.

  The Chief Engineer (CHENG), LCDR Duane Hubler, is a huge man, six feet eight inches tall, his unruly red hair is a beacon in the chaos. Wearing an oxygen breathing apparatus (OBA), he muscles his way aft, picking up crewman and getting them off the hot deck. He gets to Newburg and motions toward the engine room blast door. Newburg shakes his head and shrugs. Hubler puts on his OBA and pulls open the blast door, emitting a blast of steam, and starts down into hell.

  As he descends, he finds a crewman on the ladder, picks him up, carries him out, and goes back down. Newburg sees EM2 Westing, terribly burned and gasping for air, and gently helps him aft.

  MM1 Hammond was the only one of his watch team to get his emergency escape breathing apparatus (EEBD) on. The plastic window is fogged and hazed from the heat, so trying to remember where each watch stander was, he starts his search. Walking toward the main engine, he finds the decking gone. Then he finds a man and pushes him toward the ladder out. He finds the lower level watch by bumping into him, and guides him to the ladder. His skin burns whenever he touches steel, and on a warship almost everything is steel. With iron determination, he takes one step after another, maintaining awareness of his location from years of standing watch in the same engine room. Finally, he realizes he has to leave, and blindly walking to the ladder, bumps into his CHENG. Hubler gently picks him up like a child and carries him out to the weather decks where the rest of his watch team lies on the heaving deck.

  As soon as Hubler sets him down, he struggles to remove the EEBD hood, but his hands aren’t working right. Newburg gently pulls off the hood, and Ham can see his watch team lying on the deck, burned and fighting for breath. Hubler says to Newburg, shouting in his ear, “Fireman, you gotta take care of them. A helicopter is coming, make sure you don’t leave them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Newburg nods, determined.

  Hammond struggles to stand. His lungs are seared, but he tries to mumble his thanks anyway. Hubler gently pushes him back down, “You need to rest, Hammond. You did good, now rest.” The CHENG stands up and walks forward.

  NUMBER 1 BOILER ROOM

  With the ship rolled thirty degrees starboard, the third torpedo hits right under the bridge. Down in the bottom of the ship, where the torpedo strikes is the 5-inch gun auxiliary magazine. The blast can be felt on the weather decks of Carl Vinson a mile away.

  Number 1 boiler room is just aft of the gun magazine. When the forward bulkhead collapses, it shatters the forward wall of the 1-A boiler, releasing a cloud of super-heated steam into the space. Upper level watch, BT3 Petrakis, is burned and blinded by the steam, but still struggles to get out of the plant. A hand touches his, then grabs him with enormous strength. He finds himself being carried up to the main deck passageway aft o
f the wardroom. As the steam clears, he recognizes the CHENG. Hubler shouts into his ear, “Can you make it from here, BT3?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Steam is roaring out of the fire room. It’s obvious there are no other survivors. “You’re alright, Petrakis. I need to flood the other magazines. Get to the weather decks and get ready to abandon ship.” Hubler turns and leaves. Petrakis starts looking for a way out. Moving forward, he finds himself in the wardroom. Totally lost in the unfamiliar space, he turns back aft. The decking under him buckles and he stumbles to a knee. Fire and escaping steam are everywhere. Staggering to his feet to get his hands and knees off the hot deck, he starts to move, disoriented. All he knows is, he’s on the main deck above the fire room. When he looks up, he can see a glimmer of sky, looking down he sees a buckled crack, and the movement of the ship shows him the truth, the bow and stern are moving separately. He watches the gap open and realizes the Stoddert has broken in two.

  Through the smoke and steam, Donny Petrakis watches horrified as he recognizes MM3 Peter Gant from engine room 1 grasping at handholds, stumbling toward the gap. Between the bow and stern sections is a meat grinder. He tries shouting, but his lungs are so burnt with steam and smoke he can barely breath. Gant is only three feet from him, when his feet catch on something and he falls. Gant outweighs Donny by about 80 lbs. and a good 7 inches, but Donny grasps a transformer mounted on the bulkhead and leans out, catching Peter’s hand. Determined, he keeps Peter from falling into the gap and drags him across onto the bow section.

  Donny gets them through the wardroom and out onto the weather deck aft of mount 51 just as the bow starts to point to the sky and roll onto its starboard side. Holding on to a stanchion, they can see their stricken ship, the stern higher than the bow, but already starting to settle. No one seems to be in charge of the crewmen on the bow, and they see several of them jump off into water ten feet below.

  They turn and see the shattered bridge above them and someone inside waving at them and realize it’s their captain. They look at each other and start climbing the steep deck toward the bridge. They can hear Commander Douglas saying, “Abandon ship. All crew, abandon ship.” With the bow now pointing up at a 45-degree angle, they are now using the bulkhead as a deck and looking down at Douglas. He’s holding on, wedged between his chair and bulkhead. Both of his legs are fractured, the bones sticking out at odd angles. He has a splinter of steel sticking out of his chest and his right arm is missing just below the elbow. His face is burned, and his blonde, curly hair completely gone. He sees them, and calmly, gasping for breath, says, “Son, you executed…your duty…now, get the hell off this boat.”

  “Sir, we can get you, too.”

  Closing his eyes, fighting the pain, Douglas says, “No, damn it. I’m done for. Go.”

  Then the bow goes under and a wave catches them, washing them off their feet, and they’re in the water. They watch as the captain, calmly smiles as he is swallowed by the sea.

  IN THE WATER

  ET3 James Stakes struggles to inflate his Mae West, but it has a hole in it. He doesn’t even remember the explosion, he just woke up in the water. Giving up on the vest, he sees another sailor in the water. He, contrary to his friends’ jibe, can swim quit well. As he gets closer, he recognizes his friend, Karl. Karl is floating in a perfectly functioning life preserver, unseeing eyes open to the night sky. As he grabs hold of his friend, James realizes that Karl is missing his right hip, leg, and torso. Holding onto him, he sobs. Of all the dumb ass things to say, he had to make a crack about his buddy’s weight, and now he’s gone.

  FAN TAIL

  The XO, LCDR Charley Curtis is trying to get the sailors on the fan tail organized. He has them assembling a ‘J’ type eductor, to dewater the ship. He also has a machinist mate working on a gas- powered dewatering pump. He also has sailors tending the wounded and helping get men in the water back on the boat. But, the stern is separated from the bow, which is floating off to starboard with just twenty feet left, proudly showing the number 22. The CHENG walks out on the fan tail, legs spread, carrying a sailor. He carefully sets him down, and using a bollard for support, looks around.

  He walks to the XO, “What the fuck are you doing, Charley? We don’t need the eductor, we need life rafts. Throw that over the side and rig life rafts. We’re going down.”

  “The captain hasn’t ordered abandon ship. I’ll be damned if I will without an order.”

  “The captain is on the bridge. The bridge is over there sinking. Now, you haven’t fucking noticed, the 1MC is down. When I was up forward, I heard the captain give the order, ok?”

  “You don’t have to disrespect me in front of the troops, CHENG.”

  “I only disrespect you when you’re being a fucking idiot, the rafts?”

  “Yeah, CHENG,” and to the men, “Start rigging rafts.”

  Having sorted out the fan tail, Duane Hubler turns away and goes back inside the ship to look for more sailors.

  CHAPTER 10

  FLIGHT DECK, USS CARL VINSON, 1822, 20 DECEMBER, 1941

  Instead of her normal GQ station in the ready room, Lt. Sam Hunt and her squadron are on the flight deck making sure their aircraft are secure. With the severe maneuvers, they don’t want to lose a plane over the side. When the torpedoes struck the Stoddert, everyone stopped to watch. Like a train wreck, they couldn’t look away, and for Sam, time stands still. The fourth torpedo misses the both ships, passes astern and runs itself out.

  Then the captain announces on the 1MC, “Carl Vinson, the destroyer, Benjamin Stoddert, has been hit by multiple torpedoes and is going down. All helicopter crews to the flight deck. All hands prepare to receive casualties. Medical, initiate the mass casualty bill. Flight quarters.” Then comes the familiar call, “Flight quarters, flight quarters.” A call repeated on all ships that have helicopters.

  I-7, JUNSEN CLASS SUBMARINE

  Commander Hirotaka Chiba hears the explosion, feeling the rumble through the sub’s hull, and knows his torpedoes struck a target. He looks at Sub-lieutenant Michio, who’s timing the attack. Michio says, “Too soon.”

  Chiba raises the periscope, surveying the damage, “A large vessel, cruiser perhaps, though too few guns.”

  Sonarman 1st Class Ichiro Nakamura says, “Captain, I hear sonar. High frequency pinging at 30 degrees.”

  Chiba turns the periscope to 30 degrees, “There is nothing close.” He revolves in a 360-degree search, seeing only American ships with his kill. Perhaps they will slow to render aid. He may have another opportunity if he is shrewd.

  Nakamura shouts, “Captain, the sonar is close, and I hear high speed screws, a torpedo!”

  “It will miss, Petty Officer, no need for excitement,” assures Chiba. But, it doesn’t miss. The Mark 46 torpedo uses its own sonar to locate the Japanese sub and home in. Nearly 100 pounds of high explosive detonates against the hull of I-7. The overpressure kills everyone on board instantly, crushing the center like a tin can, shredding the hull. As it starts its long dive to the bottom, the body of Sonarman 1st Class Ichiro Nakamura floats to the surface.

  USS LONG BEACH BRIDGE

  On the bridge, Captain Tenzar surveys the Stoddert. The Long Beach, a one of a kind nuclear powered missile cruiser, commissioned in 1961, is six miles astern of Stoddert and closing. She lacks her own helicopter, but as a flag ship, her radar and communication center are as sophisticated as any, save the Ticonderoga class ships. Tenzar quickly sees a problem and picks up the ship to ship, “Carl Vinson, this is Long Beach actual.”

  “Long Beach, this Carl Vinson actual, go ahead.”

  “We need to increase our ASW. The Fife and Jarrett are better suited to that role. Recommend Vinson continue on, escorted by Horne, Fife, and Jarrett. Long Beach will render aid and co-ordinate the rescue efforts.”

  “Agreed, Long Beach. Be aware the effort involves fourteen plus rotary.”

  “Understood.” As he hangs up the radio, he sees a geyser of water to the west, so big
it occludes the horizon. He picks up the 1MC, “Long Beach, the Benjamin Stoddert has been hit by torpedoes and is sinking. We have sailors in the water. We are lead vessel, so I need all hands on deck. Relax general quarters, there isn’t time to secure. Muster the rescue and assistance detail in the gymnasium. Initiate the mass casualty bill. Boat crews, man the boats. Flight quarters, flight quarters. Paddles, we’ll be landing the helo’s with little or no wind.”

  The crew of the Long Beach leap into action, running to their assigned stations, ready for something to do. There will be plenty.

  CARL VINSON FLIGHT DECK

  The flight deck crews scramble to get all eight Sea Hawks airborne. The helos are pulled away from the island, quickly pre-flighted, and moved to their take off spots. Eightballer 1, 331, and 737 are the first off the deck with the only three SAR swimmers on the ship. No one ever planned for something like this. Next, Eightballer 223 and 876 leave with an extra flight engineer as acting SAR, leaving the last three pilots desperately searching for qualified swimmers.

  Lt. JG Sandra ‘Cargo Britches’ Douglas, pilot of Eightballer 416, runs toward the island looking for anyone she can rope in and sees Hunt and Hoolihan, “Hey, Lt. Hunt, you know where I can get a swimmer? My bird needs one.”

  Sam looks at Gloria, who smiles, “You got two, now.” The three women run back to spot 6 to the waiting helo. The rotor is already turning as Sandra climbs in the right door and motions them into the back. In the door of the bird is AB1 Gil Thompson. He grabs a harness in each hand when he sees them run up. He quickly puts a harness on Sam, and has a hand between her legs, snaking the straps into place, when her gender dawns on him, “Um, sorry, ma’am,” and turns red.