by M. L. Maki
Morrison, “It sounds good, but we need to look at how we manage the weight. Is the dry dock available?”
Maki, “Yes, sir. It’s ready.”
Morrison, “Okay, schedule the docking for next week. We still need to configure the sub for the docking. Brown, when is your wedding?”
Brown, “In a week and a half. It’s all set up.”
Morrison, “Good. Any questions?”
Little, “How did Lieutenant Simmons do?”
Morrison, “He’s an exceptional officer. He qualified all his watches and got pinned.”
Little, “Excellent. I want him back.”
Morrison, “Roger that. I want Brown back. Maki, are you a nuke?”
“Yes, sir. Off the Long Beach.”
“Do you want to be a submariner?”
“Right now, Admiral Klindt pulls that string, sir. That and, no disrespect at all intended, but I do not know how the hell you guys do it. I can’t handle caves or submarines.”
Backes, “Claustrophobic?”
“No, sir. I just need the sky, more or less, above me. It’s an unnatural act to sink in a perfectly good boat.”
Morrison, “No problem, Maki. A lot of targets feel that way. Okay, I think we’re done.”
As they leave Little asks Maki, “How are you doing on the missile launcher?”
“I have a rough scale model I am using to chase issues. I am trying to figure out the interlocks.”
“Interlocks?”
“Yes, sir. You don’t want the loading rail to move until the hatch is open. You don’t want the loading rail to retract until the missile is locked on the launch rail. You don’t want it to fire unless the hatch is shut. You don’t want the lock to release until the motor is fired. That’s just a few.”
“What about training the operator to do it correctly?”
“Training goes to shit when someone is shooting at you. Better if the operator doesn’t have to think about it in combat. I learned that off of Tokyo.”
“Okay. Keep me posted.”
“Yes, sir.”
NAVY PIER, SANDBANK, SCOTLAND
1623, 14 July, 1942
Lt. JG Giblin smiles when he sees Ann Lochlin waiting beside her blue car. He pulls her into his arms and kisses her.
Ann leans back and touches his face, “How was it?”
Giblin smiles, “You are beautiful.”
Ann, “Thank you luv. You’re changing the subject.” They get into her car.
Jim, “The command climate is awesome. It’s how it’s supposed to be, calm, supportive, and exacting. I completed my watch qualifications and got my gold dolphins. Honey, we killed a lot of people. A lot of people.”
“Luv, it’s war. It’s terrible, but necessary.”
“Yeah, I know. How are you?”
She sneaks a smile as she drives, “We’re going straight home luv. That’s how I am.”
“Then we are both of the same mind. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
THE MC AND MAC, SANDBANK, SCOTLAND
1810, 14 July, 1942
Guthrie walks in and sees Ashley McCullum at the bar, “Hi.”
“Hi back t’ya. Wanna beer?”
“Yes, please. How are you?”
She hands him a pint, “Good. How are you?”
“Glad to be ashore. You know, I started to ask you for a date once and it started a bar fight. Things are quieter today.”
“I’m sorry, Leroy. I’m engaged to a sailor off the Beaver.”
“That’s okay. I understand.”
“You’re sweet.”
ABSD-8 FLOATING DRY DOCK, HOLY LOCH, SCOTLAND
0745, 20 July, 1942
Maki studies the position of the submarine, using a surveyor’s transit, as it is moved into his dry dock. The position of the submarine must be precise. A few inches off, and the sub could be damaged. Maki, the dock master, on the radio, “Port bow, forward six inches.”
Ferrero, “Six inches, aye.”
Maki puts a scale alongside the hawser. “Tighten. Done.”
Back on the radio, Ferrero, “Six inches.”
Maki studies the transit, “The bow went too far. Starboard bow, tighten a foot.”
“Foot to starboard bow, aye.”
They continue making small adjustments until the sub settles to its exact spot.
Maki, “Check in. Is it stable in the correct position?”
He gets the affirmative.
Maki, “Commence pump out, Antonio.”
“Yes, sir. Start pump 1, 2, 7, and 8.”
As the dry dock raises in the water, the keel blocks meet with the hull. When the Frisco rests on the keel blocks, the submarine slowly rises as well.
Maki, “Lock the cables in place.” Six steel cables are positioned to prevent the sub from rolling off the blocks. Somewhat important for a land-based dock, it is critical for a floating dock that moves. “How are we on the bubble, Antonio?”
“Still good. Throttling forward valves.”
“Thank you. Okay. We have positive lift, and it is stable. Antonio, we are approaching the half flood mark. Start shutting valves.”
“Shutting valves.” The dock stops rising. They land a brow and utilities bridge from the dock wall to the sub. The crew starts shifting utilities to the dock services.
Morrison walks up beside Maki, “Is this the first time you’ve done this?”
Maki, “First time with a critical cargo. We’ve been practicing. I put an egg on a weighted post. The operator that causes the egg to fall owes a round for everyone on the crew.”
“And if they get it right?”
“I buy the round, sir.”
“By the way, I wasn’t pressuring you to go to sea.”
“I know, sir. You were giving me the opportunity. It’s something I very much appreciate. My future lies elsewhere.”
Morrison smiles, “What do you want?”
“Sir, why did you join the Navy?”
“My father, grandfather, great grandfather all served. I think a Morrison was a watch officer for Noah.”
“In my family each generation, at least one, goes Navy, and one Army, but as enlisted. That isn’t why I joined. I joined because I lived in a small town with limited opportunities and I wanted to live bigger than I could in Naselle, Washington. That, and Horatio Hornblower. I want to stay a SWO. Subs are like nukes in general. Once you go sub, you stay sub.”
“That’s fine. Our Navy needs competent surface officers. What’s your dream there?”
“Like so many others, I dream of command. I know most officers never reach command. I didn’t help myself when I started down this path with Admiral Klindt. Most of us will never see commands.”
“You’re wrong. Klindt is trying to build a new future. He needs us to work ourselves up in the Navy. He needs us to become essential and you have proven your command potential.”
“How, sir?”
“On your own, you prepared and moved a dock across the Atlantic, and made it ready to receive my sub. You led your crew and you got it done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
On the radio they hear, “All services configured. Request permission to bring on shore power.”
Morrison, “Backes, Morrison, bring on shore power. When stable, secure the diesel.”
Radio, “Diesel secured. Ready to continue the docking.”
Morrison, “Roger. Proceed.”
Maki, “Antonio, restart pumps.”
Morrison, “When was the last time someone bought you a beer?”
Maki, “After the first lift, I bought the beers. So, sir, it’s been a while. Antonio and his guys know their business.”
“It shows. So, you like Horatio?”
“As a kid, I consumed those books. Where I grew up, we were so far out in the sticks, we didn’t have TV. Reading was our entertainment. It was an environment that encouraged learning.”
“I would say it has benefited you. Does Klindt know y
ou want to go back to sea?”
“I don’t think so, sir. I didn’t know it was a possibility. Are you ready to see the underside of your boat?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
KRIEGSMARINE HEADQUARTERS, BERLIN, GERMANY
1000, 21 July, 1942
Grand Admiral Erich Raeder sits sipping coffee as Admiral Doenitz explains, “So, they have a superior submarine, likely brought back with the carrier. We have some information of the expected capabilities. It will be nuclear powered like the carrier. We got that from a 1990’s prisoner. That makes it capable of operating independent of the need to surface. It is exceptionally quiet. The whole design is oriented toward quiet operation rather than speed. The torpedoes it uses are guided, and exceptionally accurate. Oberleutnant Schwantke CO of U-43 sent us this information.”
Raeder, “Is he still in contact?”
“No, sir. We lost contact. He estimated their torpedo to have at least a ten-mile range. Their listening systems would also be superior.”
“What can be done?”
“We have an air independent propulsion system being designed. It will not be ready for some time. I will redirect research to make our submarines quiet, and more effective. Meanwhile, we are ending the wolf pack strategy. Our submarines will fight independently and maintain radio silence.”
Raeder, “You believe they are listening to us?”
“Whether or not they have broken our new codes, they can triangulate the location from where the transmission was made and send the American sea dragon to kill our boats.”
“These changes are reasonable. Where would such a vessel be home ported?”
“Surely in the American northeast.”
Raeder, “Perhaps. If we find its home port, we may destroy it while it is there.”
“Are we building aircraft carriers, then?”
“Absolutely not. It would be a vast waste of resources and it would take years before we could effectively use it. We have shared some of our technology with our Japanese allies. They in turn have shared technology with us.
“They have a submarine design they call the I-400. It uses two parallel pressure hulls to support a water-tight hanger. The hanger was to carry aircraft, now they are modifying it to carry our Vergeltungswaffe 1 flying bombs. They have been kind enough to share the blueprints. With these no American city would be safe. The Americans would by necessity, have to defend their shores. A handful of missile submarines could tie down half of the American navy, giving us free rein in Europe.”
Doenitz, “With a small number of these submarine we could do little more than harass the Americans, but doing just that could be effective, as you say.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
1220, 21 July, 1942
Ensign Brown is up inside the dome cover with J. Warren Horton, director of the US Navy Underwater Sound Laboratory and Captain George E. Creasy, director of the Royal Navy Anti-Submarine and Warfare Division.
Brown, “As you see, we do not direct or point our sensors. We determine bearing by comparing the relative strength of the various sensors.”
Creasy, “That requires complex electronic processing.”
Brown, “To optimize the system, yes. To make something like this work, no. The size of your subs is smaller. You could install a smaller array and use lights. Put a panel in with a light representing every transducer. Install an amplifier that passes a variable amperage based on signal strength. Just by looking at the panel you can see the brightest light and that would intuitively give you a bearing. Running the signal through a clock circuit, and scanning it onto a screen, could give you a rough analog of our waterfall. All that should be possible today. The operator could select which transducer to listen to with a button. When we have electronics available, they would be somewhat plug and play using the same array.”
Horton, “Are the Germans doing this?”
“I don’t know. What I do know is they are working very hard to make their subs quieter and more effective. If we hope to win, we must do the same.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
1810, 21 July, 1942
Morrison and Maki watch as brackets are welded onto the rear ballast tanks.
Maki, “Did I get the ballast change correct?”
“You were close. Another thing. Don’t sweat removing the operating mechanism. Once they are in, they stay in. We put the release pins on the legs. All the other equipment stays on board. That reduces the buoyancy issues if we have to leave them behind.”
“I can do that, sir.”
“Good. Carry on.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
0700, 22 July, 1942
Brown, wearing a face mask, watches a welder install the mount for the last transmitter-transducers. The sparks and light stops. “Do you got it?”
The welder starts hammering the slag off his weld, “I think so, sir. It needs to be inspected.”
“Of course. Your other welds passed with flying colors.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
1324, 22 July, 1942
Kichiro, inside the forward ballast tank, study’s the torpedo tube door bushings. The door pins have been removed and the door is supported by rigging gear. He uses a micrometer to determine wear. “Shit, these are fucked up. Well, I expected that.”
He briefs the mechanics on the exact procedure to remove the bushings. Then climbs over to look at tube 1, which is also disassembled.
CHAPTER 9
DUNOON HIGH KIRK, DUNOON, SCOTLAND
1500, 24 July, 1942
Ensign Michael Brown, in full dress whites, waits for his bride. The large church is packed, nearly three quarters of the congregants being sailors from the USS San Francisco, Beaver, and Livermore. Jean Luc walks down the aisle holding the pillow carrying the rings. When he gets to his position at front pew, he stops and fidgets, pulling at his pants.
Morrison, in the front pew, leans toward him, “You’re doing good. Just stand still.”
“Uh huh.” He smiles, “Daddy and Mummy is getting married.”
The music changes and everyone stands. Mike watches Laureen walk slowly down the aisle on Sheamus’s arm. His heart aches for the woman he loves. Mike smiles, thinking to himself, “I’ve never known love like this.”
When they get to Jean Luc, Sheamus takes his hand.
The minister asks, “Who gives this bride in marriage?”
Sheamus and Jean Luc say, “I do.” Jean Luc bounces, “He’s my daddy.” The congregation chuckles.
Mike takes Jean Luc’s hand as he and Laureen turn to the minister and Sheamus sits down. The prayers, the vows, the exchange of rings, then the minister says, “I present Ensign and Mrs. Michael Brown.”
Jean Luc, “Yeah!”
The congregation stands and applauds the latest addition to the family of the San Francisco. The officers from the three ships form up in the traditional formation. Morrison, “Present.” Everyone grasps the hilt of their sword and pulls it out part way. “Arms.” They lift their swords and create the arch.
Michael and Laureen walk down the aisle, Jean Luc following with his grandfather. They walk through the arch, and as they pass, each pair of officers lowers their swords. It is Backes that gives her the traditional swat in the rear.
Laureen, “Ooh.” She puts a hand to her behind. “Thank you, love, for warning me.”
Mike laughs, “Sorry, I forgot.”
They all gather at the church hall for the reception.
Morrison walks up to Laureen, “Congratulations, Mrs. Brown.”
“Thank you very much, Commander. Michael has said so much about you.”
“Mike is a great guy and a fine officer.”
“May I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“What should he do to help his career, and what can I do to help him?”
“I know you are committed to staying here. I understand it. Your desire will not, at
all, hurt his career. Mike will stay with our boat here for some time. Months, but probably not years. Eventually, he’ll be assigned to a new sub as navigator, engineer, or XO. That sub will probably be assigned to the Pacific. Most are. It’s unlikely you would be able to move with him, even if you wished. He’ll be gone for, likely, three or so years. When the war ends, he’ll probably retire and come back here to you. If he stays in, and he’s still in submarines, he could be assigned to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii; San Diego, California; Norfolk, Virginia; New London, Connecticut, or possibly here. There’s a chance he may stay here, some submarines will. It’s possible, but unlikely.”
“Thank you for giving me the truth.”
“If I may ask, what did Mike say?”
“The same thing. I will wait for him. I will prepare him a home that welcomes him, no matter how long he is gone”
“It’ll be difficult. I shouldn’t and won’t sugar coat it. Not during a war.”
“I lost Jean Luc’s father on the Hood. I understand the risks. I will refuse to take counsel of my fears, rather than my heart.”
“You two, beyond a doubt, are perfect for each other. I wish you all the happiness your hearts can hold.”
“You are a good man, Commander. I hope you also find happiness.”
“Thank you.”
Mike walks up, “Honey, they’re serving the meal.” As Mike and Laureen walk to the head table, Guthrie comes up to Morrison’s side. “I can show you your place.”
“I have a place?”
“Of course. Laureen agonized over every detail. The restaurant that prepared the meal had to follow her exact recipes. She was a professional chef in France.”
“Wow. Okay.” He is given a place of honor at the table with the other commanding officers.
After the meal and toasts, Morrison stands. Everyone falls silent. “The wardroom has a gift for you. I told you not to plan anything for a honeymoon and this is why.” He hands an envelope to Mike, “In this envelope is a one week pass and six nights in the Savoy in London. There are also enough ration cards for gas to get you there, and back, with plenty to spare for exploring.”
Mike looks at Morrison, stunned. Laughing, all their friends and family cheer, lifting their glasses in a toast.
