by M. L. Maki
Brown, “The skipper came up with it. Here we go.” He flips a switch and gets a jumbled mess on the screen. He adjusts the rheostats and the signal cleans up. Before long, they see the location of every target. Mike calibrates for distance. A sailor comes in with a thermos of coffee and two bags of food, “Sirs, the captain sent these so you could eat.”
Mike, “Thank you very much, Robertson.”
“Are you seeing the posts out there?”
“Robertson, this is a classified program. You saw nothing.”
“Yes, sir.” Robertson leaves.
The two eat and continue refining the feed and making adjustments.
Kichiro asks, “Has this transducer been pressure tested?”
“All of them.”
“Good. This is going to work.”
“Yeah, it is. Let’s lower the dome over it and see if we can push the signal through.”
Kichiro cranks down another handle, and a wall of material, very close in design and thickness to the sonar dome, covers the transducer. He walks into the shack and sees that the screen is all white. Brown carefully adjusts the rheostats to their full sweep. Nothing pushes the signal through the dome. “Well, it’ll have to be mounted outside the dome.”
Kichiro, “Not the end of the world, man. Your fucking gizmo works.”
“Yeah. I’ll take another look at the math, but at least it works. We still need to calibrate the distance and warning system.”
“Tomorrow. Let’s go meet up with Maki and swap lies over a beer.”
“Laureen is making her braised beef.”
Kichiro, “Like I said, let’s go to your house for a home cooked meal.”
“That works.” He uses a radio to call for a yard tug, then they pull up the anchors and get pushed toward the tender. All the gear gets moved into the shed and locked up.
The dry dock is now anchored in the loch. They can see the stuff on the barges inside.
Brown, “Wow, Maki comes bearing gifts.” One of the wall mounted cranes lifts an officer’s boat into the water.
Their barge goes right by the dry dock and Lt. JG Maki, wearing a hard hat, waves. They wave back. Before they make it to the tender, Maki comes alongside them in the officer’s boat, “How are you doing Kiche, um, Lieutenant?”
Kichiro, “Great. This is a good friend, Mike Brown.”
Maki, “Good to meet you. My coxswain is Fernando Ferrero. Who is SOPA here?”
Brown, “Commander Little commands the tender, and is SOPA. Commander Huber commands the destroyer. Commodore Holtz in Alconbury commands us all.”
Maki, “He’s task force Yankee, right?”
Brown, “Yeah, and Naval Forces Great Britain.”
Maki, “Cool.”
Brown, “When you get a chance, why don’t you come up to my place for dinner.”
“Where?”
Brown points, “See the tower?”
“You live in a castle?”
“No, it’s a farm. You’re welcome to come for dinner.”
“I probably have official stuff tonight. Can I take a rain check?”
“Sure.”
Kiche, “How was the crossing?”
Maki, “Not bad. Only two gales. The dry dock rides like the barge it is.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, 230 MILES WEST OF GALWAY, IRELAND
1810, 11 July, 1942
TM1 Haataja loads their last two torpedoes into Tube 1 and 4. When the last fish is loaded into Tube 4 and locked, he asks, “Hey chief, do we get to hoist a broom?”
“I’ll ask. Probably.”
Morrison walks into Control and straight to the table. One look and, “Good job, Craig.” They are eleven miles and twelve miles from their targets.
Cutting, “Are these the two that hit that convoy yesterday?”
Morrison, “Probably. There’s another convoy north of us, too.”
U-264, SIERRA 24
Oberleutnant zur See Hartwig, “Sonar. Do you have anything?”
“I think so, sir. It is far ahead. Just barely audible.”
“Okay. We still have too many torpedoes. I wish to give them to our British friends one at a time.”
“U-302, is still to our south.”
“Very good.”
U-302, SIERRA 25
The crew sweats in the humid steel tube as they load the TV-class homing torpedo into Tube 3.
Kapitänleutnant Herbert Sackel says, “Be careful. No need to hurry.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir, what do you think of the sea dragon?”
Sackel says, “A great story to share to keep your children in the school yard. We are the predator. Anything the Americans send for us is prey.”
U-43, SOUTH OF THE OTHER U-BOATS
“Captain. The breaker is replaced, and the guards reinstalled. We are ready to get underway again.”
Oberleutnant zur See Hans-Joachim Schwantke, “Good. It is daylight. We will stay submerged and work our way north. Ahead dead slow.”
“Captain, torpedo tubes flooding north of us.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Torpedo. Doors open.”
LCDR Craig Cutting, “Fire Tube 1. Fire Tube 4.”
The sub shudders as the torpedoes launch into the sea.
“Conn, Torpedo. One and four fired electrically.”
“Conn, Sonar. Fish running hot, straight and normal.”
Cutting, “Very well.” He starts counting down.
U-43
“Captain, torpedoes in the water to the north east.”
Schwantke, “Where are they going?”
“North. Someone fired on the other boats, sir. They are killing our friends.”
“All stop. Rig for silent. We cannot let them find us. Sonar, what can you tell me about the enemy?”
“It is very, very quiet. I could hear the tubes flood and the doors open. I cannot hear it operate.”
“It must be the sea dragon, the superweapon we have heard of. Tell torpedo we may take a snapshot. First though, we need to report.”
“Yes sir.”
“I need all we can learn. What is the range of their torpedoes?”
“Both torpedoes hit. About 160 hectometers. Our friends are gone.”
Schwantke, “Ahead slow. Take us to periscope depth I need to write the report.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Sonar, new contact, Bearing 176. Designate Sierra 26.”
Cutting, “What is it doing?”
“It’s coming up; either surfacing or coming to periscope depth.”
Backes, “Fuck.”
Morrison, “Ahead 2/3rd. Left rudder. New course 355. Take us to periscope depth.”
GERMAN RADIO STATION, BRITAINY, OCCUPIED FRANCE
The cryptologist completes the translation, reads it and runs from the room. He hands the flotilla commander the message.
From: U-43
To: UFLT-2
REG: Sea Dragon
The USN weapon is a submarine that is very, very quiet, with long range, high speed, guided torpedoes. U-264, 302, both lost to torpedoes at 160HM. After reporting intend to engage.
Ob. Z. S. Schwantke
Korvettenkapitän Viktor Schütze stands. “This needs to be forwarded up immediately.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, PERISCOPE DEPTH, 25 MILES SOUTH OF CONVOY
Backes, “Convoy escort, Yankee Bravo. Convoy escort, Yankee Bravo.”
“Yankee Bravo, HMS Gallant, go for traffic.”
CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS, HMS GALLANT (H59)
Someone knocks, “Captain, that American submarine has identified a sub south of us.
LCDR C.P.F. Brown, RN, says, “Very good. Commence the attack. I’ll be there in a minute.”
U-43, 12 MILES SOUTH OF USS SAN FRANCISCO
Schwantke asks his sonarman, “Can you hear it?”
“I’m hearing something. I think it is the convoy.”
“Okay. If we close the convoy they will come after us.”
“Sir, one of the convoy ships has accelerated.”
“Hm. Interesting. Flood the forward tubes.”
SAN FRANCISCO
Guthrie, “Conn, Sonar. I’ve lost Sierra 26 in our baffles.”
Cutting, “Very well. Left standard rudder. New course 280.” He pushes the button, “Let me know when you reacquire.”
Guthrie, “Sir, Tango 42 is accelerating.”
Morrison, “That is the destroyer surging out.”
Guthrie, “I have Sierra 26 again. It is at 192. Sir, range is twelve miles. Depth is 150 feet.”
Backes, “Cutting, give me a steer for the destroyer.”
Cutting, “187 and 24 miles.”
Backes passes the word by radio.
U-43
“Captain. We have a destroyer at 007. About twenty miles. Bearing is constant.”
Schwantke, “Left rudder. Five degree down bubble. Ahead full.”
SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra 26 is turning west.”
Cutting, “Thank you.”
Backes, “Gallant, Yankee Bravo. Your target is turning west. We are at your southwest, do you have us on radar?”
“Affirmative. We will avoid you.”
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra 26 is opening doors.”
Cutting, with the tracking team, “The destroyer needs to turn ten degrees right and drop in six miles.”
Backes, on radio, “Gallant, your target is opening its torpedo doors. Recommend left full rudder. New course 120.”
“Conn, Sonar. Tango 49 is turning sharply left.”
Lt. JG Vaught, the diving officer, “Sir, can the German torpedoes make the turn?”
Morrison, at the table, “184 and three miles. Greg.”
Backes, on the radio, “Gallant, right full rudder, 184. Drop in three miles. Stand by for my mark.”
“Conn, Sonar. After the torpedo turned, it shut off.”
“The Germans have a circling interlock.” Morrison studies the table, “Sierra 26 is turning north. They are going to fire on the destroyer again. Tell them to break off, hard left.”
Backes relays and the destroyer follows the steer.
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra 26 has fired. Two fish in the water. The fish are turning toward the destroyer.”
Backes, “Kick it in the ass, Galant. They fired guided torpedoes at you.”
HMS GALLANT
The ship shakes as it accelerates. Looking astern, LCDR Brown says, “I can’t see them. They are not the visible kind.”
He hears, “Gallant, Yankee Bravo, the torpedoes have run out. Come to new course 250.”
GERMAN SUBMARINE, U-43
Schwantke, “Keep turning. Flood stern tubes. Let’s get our stern on them as we reload.”
Sonar, “Captain, they are getting ahead of us.”
“Do we know where the dragon is?”
“No, sir.”
“They have to be shallow and communicating with the destroyer.”
“Yes sir, but where?”
Sonar, “Sir, the destroyer is approaching our starboard side. Depth charges dropped.”
Schwantke lowers his head, then looks at his crew, “Emergency blow. Prepare to scuttle.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Backes, “Gallant, they are surfacing.”
They hear the depth charges going off.
Backes, “Sir, they are damaged. They are abandoning the sub.”
Morrison, “Good. Do they need further assistance?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay. Set us a course for home. Oh, we also need to scare up a straw broom.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lt. JG Vaught, “Sir, why did the torpedoes shut off after they turned?”
Morrison, “Most torpedoes have a 180-degree interlock. If the torpedo turns around after launching, it could hit the sub that fired it.”
“Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 8
CAPTAIN’S CONFERENCE ROOM, USS BEAVER, HOLY LOCK, SCOTLAND
1200, 13 July, 1942
CDR Little presides over the meeting, “Lieutenant Mallory, status of the propulsion project.”
Mallory, “Tools, materials, and training are up to speed. We have all the needed support equipment and it has all been flushed, cleaned, tested or calibrated per nuclear and sub-safe requirements.”
Little, “Ensign Brown, how goes your project?”
Brown, “All components are on hand and tested. They meet requirements. I need to alter the wire run a bit, and I don’t know how that will go, until they are here. It shouldn’t be a major issue.”
Little, “Lieutenant Maki, where are we for dry docking and support systems?”
Maki, “We have removed all our cargo and set up the dock floor with blocks and cradle timbers to receive the sub. We have practiced the lift several times. The salt water and freshwater systems have been flushed, tested and PM’ed. The generators are set up, PM’ed, and ready. We have meggered the cables as well. I also have the nuke service tagout ready to hang. The berthing barge and workshop are squared away.”
Little, “Okay. Lieutenant Kichiro?”
“Everything I need is on hand. We have the materials to replace the bushings on all four tubes, if needed. I also have the tagout ready. Maki has the gas free program in hand.”
Little, “On that note, thank you, Maki, for getting my own gas free engineer up to speed.”
Maki, “Yes, sir. Things change. We’re just complying with the latest safety manual.”
Little, “What are we not considering?”
Maki, “We need to expect NRRO to show up. Have you been briefed in about NRRO, sir?”
Little, “They’ve already been through, but that’s a good point. We conduct ourselves like NRRO is watching our every move, and don’t worry about inspections.”
Kichiro, “What is our inventory of torpedoes?”
Little, “We have thirteen, and whatever they didn’t fire.”
Mallory, “Sir, a priceless piece of equipment will be high and dry with no way to protect it. Has anyone looked at adding some type of missile defense?”
Little, “Commodore Holtz authorized the modifications. We have been struggling with a workable design.”
Maki asks, “Sir, can I have a whack at it? I have some experience there.”
Little, “You’re a nuke. What experience?”
Maki, “I designed the ammo lift system for the triple six-inch Mark 16 turrets for the USS Long Beach.”
Little, “Okay. If you have the time, by all means.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, HOLY LOCH, SCOTLAND
0815, 14 July, 1942
Taped to the attack periscope, straw up, is a broom. They follow the guide boat and lead the Livermore in. MM2 Black stands outside of control. He asks, “Request to enter and speak.”
Morrison, “What do you have?”
MM2 Black opens up a battle flag. It is yellow with San Francisco in red across the top. There’s a stylized submarine image in the center with a mermaid, and a pissed off dolphin in a sailor hat. In neat rows around the side are flags showing all their kills: twelve rising suns and forty-six and a half swastikas. “Sir, I assumed we got half credit for guiding the destroyers onto submarines.”
Morrison examines it closely. The detail and craftsmanship are very high. The rays of the rising sun on each flag are hand sewn. “You’re right. It has to fly below the American flag, but, yeah, go ahead and hoist it.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the submarine works its way alongside the tender, the battle flag billows underneath the American flag, just above the broom.
Waiting for them on the barge is Commodore Holtz. Once the brow is set down, he walks aboard.
“Naval Forces Great Britain, arriving.”
He salutes the flag, then the quarterdeck, “How did the patrol go?”
Morrison returns the salute, “We’re empty of torpedoes, sir. No misses. Twenty-five and a half.”
Holtz, “You guided
a destroyer onto one? Good job. Can we go below so I can thank your crew?”
“Yes, sir.”
Two F-14’s circle overhead.
WASHINGTON MILITARY DISTRICT BRIG, WASHINGTON, DC
0700, 14 July, 1942 (1200 GMT)
Cumberland is on the bed in his cell when the door opens. He looks up and sees a stocky man in a suit. He stands, “Can I help you?”
“Sit. I am Director Hoover. Tell me your story.” J. Edger Hoover, Director of the FBI sits in the only chair.
“You’re FBI. I am being held by the Navy.”
“If you don’t want my help.” He stands.
Cumberland, “I’m sorry, sir. The issue is not me. It’s the fucking Jap XO they assigned to me.”
“Please, go on.”
CO’S CONFERENCE ROOM, USS BEAVER
1230, 14 July, 1942
Morrison sits with Little, Simmons, Backes, Miller, Cutting, Kichiro, Maki, Mallory, and Brown.
Mallory, “So, sir. That’s the nuke package. Are there any new problems that need addressed?”
Cutting, “You covered all my concerns.”
Morrison, “Kichiro?”
“Sir, first we need to access and inspect tube two. We are going in with the expectation that we will replace all the bushings on two. We have materials to replace all the bushings, fittings, and seals on all four. We have the materials to replace all the zincs forward and aft. We we’re going to inspect the studs, but we decided that it made more sense to replace them all. We’ll move the torpedo tube zinc to a safer place. We’ve a number of engineers from Electric Boat that want to look her over. They’re cleared by Klindt’s office and shouldn’t interfere with our work package.”
Morrison, “What about the feet?”
Maki, “That’s my project. We’re planning a water-driven hydraulic actuator. We’re also designing the legs so you can unpin them while in the water.”
Morrison, “Explain.”
Maki, “Well, it crossed my mind that the legs might get stuck in sand or mud. If you are using them, it’s because your supporting divers. I am working on a mechanism to unpin them, so the sub can leave them behind. They have buoyancy issues, so I am still studying it. It would also allow the sub to easily drop them, and add lead ballast, when they are not needed for a mission. It could even be done without a dry dock event.”
Backes, “How?”
Maki, “Extend them and sink down to the bottom where you are right now. Have a diver unpin the legs and you surface. Divers add removable ballast and you’re good to go. Once the sub is clear, the tender’s crane can pick the legs up for servicing.”
