by M. L. Maki
“Okay. We have sixty feet under our keel. I want to do the same. Let’s search the east to west lanes, keeping the bottom visible on the screen. When we pass over it, we should recognize the wreckage. The pilot successfully ditched. It should be mostly intact.”
Thoreau gives the orders.
Morrison, “Greg, we’ll be skimming the bottom. I want a watch on the screen. Rotate them like a lookout to keep them fresh. Let’s use the tracking team members, meaning, pull them off the watch bill back aft.”
Backes, “Yes, sir.”
Morrison walks into sonar, “Gordon, how are you doing?”
“Okay, sir. Sir, what we’re doing is crazy.”
Morrison smiles, “I agree. We’re in a Nazi controlled sea, searching for a needle in a haystack. It’s a needle we must find.”
“Yes, sir. Can you imagine Hitler with nukes? It’s a nightmare, skipper.”
“It is. So, do either of you have a Scottish girl?”
ST2(SS) Donny Pritchel says, “Maybe. She’s, like, so shy. She works at a store. I talked her into a date. We went to the movies in Dunoon. She’s nice.”
Gordon, “I heard about you and that commander lady. What does she do?”
Morrison, “She’s the commander of nuclear power school. No girl, Gordon?”
“Sir, I’m black.”
“I know. It doesn’t make you a social leper. Especially in Britain. They don’t have the same issues as the American south.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Morrison, “So, we’re mowing the lawn looking for the sunken jet. If you hear anything like pieces of metal rubbing or banging in the current, that could help us.”
Gordon, “Yes, sir.”
Morrison leaves.
Donny asks, “Gil, why didn’t you just tell the skipper your gay?”
“Donny, really. He would have to punish me.”
“Gil, he wouldn’t. He would protect you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Morrison walks down to torpedo, knocks and walks in on the six SEALs maintaining their gear. “Lieutenant Fronczak, do you have a minute?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have a fishing boat to our west. It’s likely searching for the same thing we are. I’m looking for suggestions on how to inspect it, and if necessary, eliminate it. I could fire on it with a torpedo, and there might not be anyone close enough to hear. I am just loath to kill a Swedish fisherman who just seems suspicious.”
Fronczak steeples his hands in front of his face, “How fast is it moving?”
“About five knots.”
“We could board it from the water to search and evaluate. We have our boats, so we could move it away and scuttle it. The thing is, sir, if it’s Swedish, what do we do with the crew?”
“We would have to intern them until we’re done. Release them somewhere that gives us time to get the fuck out of here. I want to be as sure as possible before launching you on this mission.”
“I agree. I’ll plan two contingencies. One, for when we’re searching, like now. The second, for if it snoops around while we are bottomed.”
“If you swam up, wouldn’t you have to use wait periods? It could be gone by the time you’re up there.”
“It depends on the depth. The swimmers will be exiting the lock and immediately ascending. If the initial depth is shallow enough, and if they have been out of the water in normal pressure long enough, they should be fine.”
“I take it you’ll want that op?”
“Of course.”
“Do you have the ability to gather intel and bring it back to a bottomed boat without damaging it?”
“Yes, sir. That’s the easy part.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it.”
GERMAN TRAWLER, EIGHT MILES SOUTH WEST OF YSTAD, SWEDEN
0644, 25 September, 1942
SS-Rottenführer Richter, in a dive suit, steps across the bottom of the Baltic, stirring up silt as he swings his light around. He glimpses something and walks toward it. The murk clears as he gets closer. He feels something hard under his foot and looks down. The empty sockets of a skull stare back at him.
This wreck is fairly new. The wooden boat sits on the bottom, level and trim. He grabs the bulwark and finds it to be firm. It is a fishing boat. Looking inside, he sees netting floating about. He carefully backs away. Getting tangled in netting would be a disaster.
He slowly walks around looking for, hoping for, anything else. The engine of the sunken vessel caused the magnetometer to sound. Seeing nothing, he tugs at his line. It grows taught, hauling him to the surface.
USS SAN FRANCISCO 10 MILES EAST OF THE TRAWLER
Guthrie, “Conn, Sonar. Tango 51 dropped a diver. They’re lifting him now.”
Morrison enters, “What did you hear?”
“I heard the bubbles from a hard hat diver. Sir, I could hear the winch, too, but I didn’t know what it was. The computer was confused too.”
Morrison picks up the spare headphones, “Play it for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Morrison listens. “Good call, Leroy. Well done.” He walks back into control to the chart table.
Cutting, “Sir, we found a fishing boat there. They’re probably using magnetic detection.”
“I agree. We need to find the plane first.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, slow and steady wins the race. Designate Tango 51 as hostile.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need a sit-down meal and some sleep. Carry on.”
CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS, USS SAN FRANCISCO
0810, 28 September, 1942
John is writing a letter to Liz when he hears, “Captain to Conn. I think we found it.”
John puts away the letter and walks to control, meeting up with Backes on his way.
Thoreau says, “Sir, it’s a pretty good image. We’re circling around.”
Morrison, “We only have forty feet over us?”
“Yes, sir. It’s getting shallow.”
Morrison studies the screen. The bottom is mostly sand with rocky outcroppings. “Okay. Call for Lt. Fronczak.”
The submarine has nearly completed the circle when Fronczak enters and looks up at the screen. It is in a rocky area, lying upright, with the nose pointed down a bit. The shape of an F/A-18 is unmistakable.
Morrison, “See that area of sand behind it? Henry, make a left turn. I want to pass directly over the sand.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fronczak, get your team ready. We’ll do a final briefing once we’re down.”
“Yes, sir.”
Morrison shifts his attention to the table. Tango 51 is five miles to their west and turning further west away from them. The fire control team has already marked the location of the wreck. Morrison picks up a stopwatch and switches back to the screen. As the sand area appears, he clicks the watch. When they see a rock, he stops it. “124 seconds at four knots. Okay, that is about 840 feet. Plenty enough room. Henry, circle us around again. Time to extend the legs.”
“Yes, sir.” Whir, thump.
“Legs are down, sir.”
“Very well.” Morrison feels the tension building as the submarine circles back around. As they approach the area of sand, “Henry, we have enough space in the sandy area to get the SEAL shelter closer to the plane.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, we’ll be about 45 degrees to the current.”
“Understood. Can’t be helped. Do you want me to take it?”
“No, sir. I got it.”
The edge of the sandy area comes into view. Thoreau, “All stop. Flood the trim tanks to the mark.” The sub slowly settles deeper. Thoreau, “Back one third.”
They see the rock outcropping two hundred feet ahead on the screen. The image of the rock outcropping turns orange, then red, as they descend, indicating how hazardous it would be to continue forward. They feel a gentle thump as the sub lands. The sea floor is not completely level, and the sub ends tilted up
and to the port a bit.
Morrison, “Okay, gentlemen. We’re likely going to be here a while. I don’t want to secure the watch while we’re here, because we may have to lift on short notice. We need to be on top of the SEAL’s operation. I’m setting a modified condition two. Watch standers can leave their panels, but you have to stay in control. One sonarman must be on the panel at all times. Questions?”
“No sir.”
Fronczak arrives with the other SEALs, “Request to enter for brief.”
Morrison, “Enter.”
Fronczak, “Okay, how deep are we?”
Morrison, “The feet are at 140 feet plus or minus. The aircraft is probably five or ten feet shallower, and about one hundred feet due west of your shelter.”
Fronczak, “Right. Nitrox. The first team will perform a survey. We’ll find the aircraft and install a light line from the shelter to the plane. We’ll also check out your feet and determine which torpedo tube will be easiest to use.”
Morrison, “You know where the reactor is. I need you to keep at least twenty feet from it.”
“Will do. You have the engine secured, right?”
“It is, but it’s still hot. They’ll be jacking it to keep it warm, and we have to keep the pumps going.”
Fronczak, “We’ll stay clear and look at the feet from a distance.”
Backes, “Keep your dosimetry on, it can handle the pressure.”
Fronczak, “Can do. I expect the survey will take an hour or less. Once the survey team is in the decompression chamber, they’ll inform you as to which torpedo tube needs to be opened. It stays open and tagged until we’re ready for it to be closed. The first extraction team will exit once we know the tube is open and tagged out.”
Morrison, “We’ll probably have to deal with the German trawler in a few hours. They’re working their way toward us.”
Fronczak, “Roger that. With that in mind, we’ll keep two teams in the ship and work the first team only. That way, the attack team can lock out and head straight up. They’ll have zero bottom time and will have a brief stop at three meters before they rock and roll.”
Morrison, “That works. Like before, we’ll have the sound powered phones manned here and a watch at the trunk. Please keep us informed of who is in and out, and their dive times.”
Fronczak, “Roger that, sir.”
Morrison, “Questions?”
Bruce says, “Giblin knows how to fill bottles and how to operate the tank. When it’s empty, can he fill bottles and bring us in food and drink?”
Morrison, “No problem. I’ll pull him from the watch bill for this. Anything else?”
Fronczak looks at his guys, “No, sir.”
Morrison, “Thank you.”
The SEALs, “Hooah.”
At the hatch, Fronczak says, “I want to be on the hit team. Grunt, can you and Blinder do the dive. Once out, you’re going to be stuck with it for a while.”
BMC Paul “Grunt” Bruce says, “Yes, sir. We got it. We set up the line, check the feet, and pick a torpedo tube, then come back in to get the tube opened. Once opened, and tagged out, we start removing nukes to the tube. Rest time is in the decompression chamber. After you kill the Krauts, you all can help us.”
Fronczak, “That works.”
Grunt and his swim buddy, BM3 Andrew “Blinder” Smith exit the shelter. Immediately, they feel the current. It is daylight and dim sunlight filters down through the sea above them, but it is still too dark to see well. Grunt ties the line to a ring and swims toward the rocks. Almost immediately, the jet appears out of the murk.
There is damage, but it is in pretty good shape. The canopy is gone, and the nose is banged up. Grunt sees that the outer bomb on the left wing is accessible. Using his light, he looks under the plane and counts the devices. Four. Three will need to have the jet lifted. Grunt and Blinder tie the line securely around the fuselage.
They swim to the bow of the sub. Grunt points at Tube 3, then he swims under the sub. The feet sank into the sand about three inches. They swim about forty feet away, then down the side. Once clear of the reactor, they swim in toward the rear legs. As they near, Grunt waves his dive partner off and uses his light to study the feet. They look to be about three inches into the sand, too. Back at the shelter they lock in. Once in the air lock Grunt says, “That was straight forward.”
“I could feel the pumps back aft, I think.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Grunt and Blinder move into the decompression chamber. Blinder shuts the door and begins stripping off his gear. Grunt, “Leave it on. We’re going back out.” He picks up the phone, “Control, SEAL tank. Grunt and Blinder are in. Zero swimmers out. Please open, and tag open, torpedo tube 3.”
“Swimmers in. Open, and tag open, torpedo tube 3, aye. Stand bye.” They feel the tube door open.
Grunt, “Is Fang on the line?”
Fronczak, “Go ahead, Grunt.”
“About a two-knot current running and visibility pretty clear. We have the line connected. The feet are about three inches in the sand and there doesn’t appear to be any obstructions around the sub. The device on the outer left wing is most accessible. All four are present and look intact. We’ll grab that one first, then hang a couple balloons. After that, we’ll come back in to report. I’ll tap on the door before opening it, in case you’re locking out.”
Fronczak, “Roger that.”
Grunt, “Hey, Fang. We’re also swapping out our tanks. Once we are out, can you fill the ones we used?”
Fronczak, “We got it.”
“SEAL tank, control, tube 3 is open, and tagged out.”
Grunt, “Thank you control.”
With fresh tanks, the two SEAL’s lock out of the sub and swim to the jet. They hang a balloon on the device and partially inflate it. Then, using a special tool, they open the clamp holding the nuclear weapon in place. The weight of the bomb releases and it swings down, smashing Blinder’s fingers against a rock. He drops the tool. A little more air in the balloon and the bomb floats up off the rocks.
Grunt motions, “Are you okay?” Blinder gives a thumbs up.
They guide the weapon toward the sub and torpedo tube 3. Getting it into the tube is a bit of a pain, but they have practiced it. Once it’s on the moving carriage installed in the tube, they deflate and remove the balloon.
They swim back to the plane. Grunt hears the trawler passing nearby and looks up. He ties a line to the left wing and ties two flotation balloons to it. He inflates one, and then the other. The wing lifts the few inches they need. They are now able to install a balloon on the next device.
Grunt looks at his watch. They need to get back. Leaving the device in place, they go back to the shelter. As they get to the sub, they see the other two teams exit and head straight up. They give them a thumbs up and lock in.
CHAPTER 18
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Morrison walks into Sonar, “What is Tango 52?”
Guthrie, “Sir, it isn’t a fishing boat. It’s going too fast. Two smallish screws making high revs.”
“Coming from the south?”
“Yes, sir. On a constant bearing.”
“Okay. We have swimmers in the water, so they’ll deal with it.”
“What can we do, sir?”
“Pray.”
TORPEDO ROOM
The torpedo crew drain tube 3 and crack open the door. A nuke inserts a tube to draw an air sample. They shut the door and wait for the results. The nuke says, “Air sample is negative.” They open the door and look in.
Kennedy says, “Like we were told, the fuse was not installed.” They insert a special tool and extract the weapon on its slide carriage. Once partway out, the nukes bag it, rig it over to a special purpose rack, securing it in place.
They take direct readings on the device, “The physics package is intact, and readings are as expected.”
Kennedy, “Guys, let’s get the slide carriage back in and set up for the next.”
DECOMPRESSION CHAMBER
Grunt and Blinder thankfully enjoy the food and coffee left for them in the chamber.
Blinder, “Do you think the guys are okay?”
Grunt, “The plan was to sink it. They’ll sink it. Let me see your hand.”
“It’s fine. I dropped the tool.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have six. Let me see your hand.”
Blinder winces as he pulls off his glove, revealing his bloody fingers. Grimacing, he moves his fingers, “See, nothing wrong.”
Grunt grabs the medical bag and wipes the hand clean so he can inspect it, “Dude, you got broken fingers.”
Blinder, “I’m not going to sit here while all you all get the job done. Bandage it up so I can get my glove over it. I have another hand.”
“Yeah, but if you fuck this one up too much, you might be off the teams. We wait until Munchkin gets back down here.” He puts away the medical kit.
“Roger that.”
“Get some sleep”
“Fuck it’s cold in here.”
“Yeah, they didn’t plan for heaters. Get some sleep.”
A minute later the phone box growls and Grunt picks it up, “SEAL tank.”
“Chief, this is Morrison. We have cycled the first one through the tube and it is tagged out and ready for the next. How are you doing?”
“Blinder broke his hand. I’m waiting for the others to return, so I can continue.”
Morrison is silent, then, “How bad?”
“Two, maybe three fingers broken. The hand is pretty useless.”
“Okay. Hang out. Let me know when you can proceed.”
Grunt, “What’s the problem, sir?”
“A patrol boat is approaching. If they call for more capable ASW assets, we could be in trouble. We can’t clear datum until we load the other three.”
“Okay. We we’ll go out.”
Morrison, “That could end up causing him permanent injury.”
“We know that, sir. A depth charge would suck, too. We got it.”
“Okay, carry on.”
Once suited back up, Grunt wraps tape around all of Blinder fingers, then growls the phone, “Control, go ahead.”
“When we leave the chamber, we need you to come in and fill up our tanks. We’ll want some food, too. We’re exiting now.”
