by M. L. Maki
Lt. Russell “Triage” Jeremy, “Sorry for just dropping in on you.”
“No problem, sir. Who’s the extra guy?” The men roll into the boat one at a time.
Triage, “Explanations will wait until we’re submerged.”
Grunt motors to the Frisco and pushes the bow against the sub. The team on board helps pull everyone to the safety of the deck. Grunt deflates the boat and the team hauls it aboard. Three minutes later, Grunt has inspected the seals on the shelter door and secured it. On the phones, Grunt says, “Captain, SEALs are in the boat. Hatches are secured.”
“Roger.” Morrison is the last person down, inspecting and shutting hatches. Climbing down into control, he says, “Chief of the watch, last man down. Bridge rigged for dive.”
Senior Chief Barton repeats him.
Morrison, says, “Quartermaster, sounding.”
The Quartermaster says, “Sounding, 1,400 feet, based on chart, sir.”
Morrison, “Very well, Officer of the deck, submerge the ship.”
LCDR Cutting, “Submerge the ship, aye. Diving officer, submerge the ship.”
ENS Brown, “Submerge the ship, dive, aye. Chief of the watch, pass the word, ‘Dive. Dive.’ Sound two blasts on the dive alarm. Pass the word ‘Dive. Dive.’”
Barton announces, sounds, then announces again. He then lifts up the vent control switches. All the ballast tank valves open letting the air escape.
Backes, on the periscope, “Deck’s awash.”
Diving Officer, “64 feet. 68 feet. 74 feet. 90 feet.”
Backes, “Down scope.”
Morrison, “Make our depth 300 feet. Keep us in the op box until we figure out what the mission is. Can I have the SEAL leadership meet me in the wardroom?”
Spooky says, “Can we head east as we talk. There’s not much time.”
Morrison, “Commander, make it so.” Grinning, he walks forward to the wardroom. Lt. Fronczak, BMC Bruce, Lt. Jeremy, ENS Jeremiah Buford, and US Army lieutenant, Francis ‘Spooky’ Torrey join him.
Morrison, “Okay, Let’s start with introductions. I’m John Morrison, skipper. I know Fang, Grunt, and Triage.”
Triage, “My assistant team leader is Jeremiah Buford. This gentleman should be addressed only as Spooky. It’s the call sign Papa Holtz gave him.”
Morrison, “Spooky, who do you work for?”
“I’m with OSS. I’m told you would know what that means.”
“I do. What’s the plan?”
“I need to be inserted into eastern Poland, near the ceasefire line. I’m going to restart the war.”
Morrison, “Okay. I don’t need to know how. What I do need to know is where and when.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bruce, “We have some uniforms you might want.”
SS-REICH MAIN SECURITY OFFICE, NIEDERKIRCHNERSTRASSE, BERLIN, GERMANY
1200, 4 October, 1942
SS-Oberführer Von Bergan is ushered into Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler’s office. He snaps to attention and salutes.
Himmler screams at him, “What were you thinking you, fool!”
“Sir I…”
“Halt ze clapper! Shut up! Shut your filthy mouth. You have made a mockery of the SS. You have made a mockery of me. How could you fail so profoundly?”
“I…”
“Silence! I demote you to Hauptsturmführer and assign you to the eastern front police unit. I will hear nothing more of this! Dismissed!”
“Sir, the Americans have a nuclear-powered submarine in the Baltic Sea. I am sure they have naval commandos on board. Also, they have all four of the devices. Of this, I am certain.”
“Do you have proof?”
Bergan shows Himmler the ordinance tool the diver recovered, “It is with this tool that the divers removed the devices. The tool could not stay on the aircraft in flight. There is no socket to retain it. They must have removed the devices under the water. The only American unit capable of such a mission are the naval commandos. The only vessel capable of such a mission is a nuclear vessel. We may recover a nuclear submarine with America’s best in military equipment and four nuclear weapons.”
Himmler sits down. “Proceed, but first I need you to inspect the border police in Poland. It seems the Army has grown soft. Oberführer Bergan, do not fail me.”
CABINET ROOM, WEST WING, WHITE HOUSE
0810, 4 October, 1942 (1310 GMT)
The President and his war cabinet are in conference with the armed forces chiefs of staff and Admiral Lee. Roosevelt, “So, our gambit worked. The SEALs have recovered the devices.”
Lee, “Yes, sir. But it isn’t over. They still have to get out.”
“I have complete confidence Commander Morrison will manage. Would you, then, recommend that we fully fund the SEALs?”
“Absolutely, sir. We’re just scratching the surface of what they can do. They’ll be indispensable as we march across the Pacific. They can inspect beaches, gather intelligence, and eliminate high value targets. A torpedo can sink a ship. Only the SEALs can first board, inspect, gather intelligence, and only then sink it. Even after the war, you will find them indispensable.”
General Marshall, “Why?”
Lee, “Okay. Let me give some examples. A commercial ship, like the Queen Mary, has ideological pirates on board. They are singling out, and killing, American and Jewish passengers. The SEALs can board the vessel from a submarine, unseen by the pirates, and kill or capture all of them, freeing the ship, crew, and passengers.
“A commercial aircraft is highjacked and lands in a small, friendly country. The country does not have the law enforcement personnel to deal with a special situation such as this. You send in the SEALs. They take the aircraft with minimal casualties.”
“A hostile power has surrounded our embassy, trapping the personnel. SEAL’s parachute in and support the Marine personnel in evacuating the embassy.
“An American military aircraft is shot down and the crew is captured. You send in the SEALs, and they take down the stronghold and recover the crew.
“A foreign leader is attempting to escape via boat during an American operation. The SEAL’s plant explosives on his boat, destroying it.
“These are not hypothetical. I am describing actual special forces missions.”
Marshall, “And all these units are Navy?”
Lee, “No, sir. The Army had the Rangers, and Special Forces---SOF, known as Green Berets. The Rangers were specialized airborne infantry and expert in small unit warfare. All your paratroops are Rangers. The Green Berets specialized in training resistance fighters and military units from small countries we wished to aid. They are kick ass fighters in their own right, but their skill set includes counter-insurgency.
“The Airforce has the para-jumpers who specialize in rescuing downed airmen and evacuating high value individuals.
“The Marines had Marine Recon. Just like the name suggests, they specialize in reconnaissance. They also have some of the best snipers in the world.
“All the special forces teams have overlapping skills and they are trained to work together. The Army is building the Rangers right now, and frankly I see the value in all of them. Also, once we have the SEALs training facility stood up, it would be reasonable for our SEAL’s to help stand up the other units.”
Roosevelt, “I want them. All of them. General Marshall, you will accept Lee’s offer. Keep me informed as the training comes online. Admiral Lee, could I have a word.”
“Yes, sir.” They wait as the others leave.
When they are alone, Roosevelt says, “You succeeded in freeing the Japanese who were interned. We have identified Commander Morrison’s mother and grandmother. Do you have a suggestion as to what we should do with them?”
“Sir, being single, I can’t take them in, though I would want to. Admiral Klindt and Julie could take them in until Morrison is in the position to look out for them. Also, Morrison’s grandparents may be willing to take them. I would be happy to take care of it.”
&nbs
p; Roosevelt smiles, “When are you going to marry that girl?”
“When Samantha Hunt can stand up with me.”
“Fair enough. On your way out, tell Admiral Leahy that you’re taking care of Morrison’s family.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, 5 MILES NORTH OF THE POLISH COAST WEST OF GDAŃSK
2300, 4 October, 1942
Triage leads his team out of the shelter, the submarine at periscope depth. They get to the surface and inflate two boats. Silent, they motor toward shore. They see a large cliff behind the featureless sand beach. Triage signals to stop the motors. He studies the bank and beach, looking for any sign of life. After fifteen minutes, and seeing nothing, he signals, and they motor ashore. The sink the boats into the water, securing them. Munchkin free climbs the cliff with a line. In a few minutes, they are all on top.
BM2 Steve “Mac” Cook and BM3 Paul Peterson create a hide on the cliff’s edge. The others head inland. The forest here is mostly flat and covered in a mix of deciduous and evergreen trees and underbrush.
Near the village of Białogóra, Spooky changes into the uniform pants he brought and the uniform jacket and gear of SS-Hauptsturmführer Erik Seidel. He puts Seidel’s dagger on his belt. They circle the town until Spooky signals them to go further south.
At Wierzchucino, they find a well-guarded labor camp. Spooky nods at the SEALs, squares his uniform, and walks up to the gate. They see him walk up to a guard and yell at him. Five minutes later, he drives away in a Mercedes. Triage and his men look at each other. Triage just shakes his head and the team fades back into the woods to wait.
Spooky drives south. He has committed the road map of this part of Poland to memory.
MILITARY BARRACKS, GDAŃSK, POLAND
SS-Oberführer Otto Von Bergan pulls up to the gate in his staff car.
The gate guard glances at him and waves him in.
“What are you doing you fucking fool. You are required to ask for fucking identification.”
“Y…yes, sir.”
“Then fucking ask. Are you a fucking idiot?”
“C…c…can I see your identification, sir?”
Bergan shows his ID and motors in. He storms into the headquarters, “Wake your commander immediately. Your security is so fucking lax a child could penetrate it.”
A major scrambles out of his office, getting dressed. “Heil Hitler.”
Bergan, “You are a mess. Your security is shit. Your men are slobs. I did not see a single roadblock in this entire region. Get your shit together, Major. I want roadblocks on every major road in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, sir!”
“NOW.” Bergan turns on his heel and continues driving into town, smiling.
WEST OF WIERZCHUCINO
Fronczak whispers to Triage, “If this goes hot, I want to attack the camp. It will look like a resistance attack.”
Triage, “Remember, noise is more important, than success.”
“Hooah.” Fronczak ghosts away with his team.
EAST OF BIALYSTOK, POLAND
0301, 5 October, 1942 (2031 GMT)
Lt. Francis ‘Spooky’ Torrey drives past a concrete defensive fortification. A half mile further south, he parks the car under some trees about two miles from the front. He sits, studying his surroundings before moving. He hasn’t been stopped by a single roadblock. Unheard of in war time Germany. He ghosts to the front.
In forty minutes, he finds the exact spot for what he must do. A Russian infantry unit is two hundred yards to his north. The Germans are six hundred yards to his south.
He opens his pack and throws out some papers. He walks fifty feet east, moving lightly to avoid making tracks. He puts a Russian pattern cover on his boots and lays down tracks facing the German lines. He fires off a Russian PPSh-41 submachine gun. He swings up onto a branch, walks along it, and jumps to a fallen tree. There, he removes the covers from his boots and stows them. He jumps back to the papers, checks his work, and moves out, running. He pulls out a bag of blood, holds it by his leg, and leaves a clear blood trail.
Back at his vehicle, he stows the empty blood bag into his pack. He checks the car, making sure it’s clear. Then he gets on the road heading back to the SEALs.
WHARF, GDAŃSK, POLAND
Fregattenkapitän Karl Barron shakes Bergan’s hand.
Bergan, “Yours is the only command I find in this town that takes security seriously.”
“Thank you, Heir Oberführer.”
“What vessel is this so I may give you a positive report?”
“You are too kind. It is the Karl Galster, Z-20.”
Bergan writes it down, “Your name?”
“Harmsen August, sir.” He salutes.
Bergan salutes and leaves, walks to his car and heads west, then south out of town.
ROADBLOCK SOUTH OF GDAŃSK
Spooky sees the roadblock and rolls down his window and sticks out his ID. There are no cars ahead of him and the road was been empty.
The soldier looks at his uniform and then his ID. He clicks his heels together, “Heil Hitler.”
“Heil Hitler.” He pulls back his ID and continues on.
A few miles down the road he passes a car going in the opposite direction.
Passing through Gdańsk he is stopped again.
ROADBLOCK SOUTH OF GDAŃSK
Bergan gets out of his car, “Who is in charge?”
A sergeant steps forward and salutes, “I am Herr Oberführer.”
“I will inspect your roadblock.”
“May I see identification first, Herr Oberführer?”
“Yes. Good.” He presents his ID.
“Thank you, Herr Oberführer. I will show you.”
ROADBLOCK NORTH OF GDAŃSK
A soldier shines a light in Spooky’s face, then waves him on.
Spooky gears up, driving north on the main road, “Something has changed.”
Out of site of the roadblock, he turns onto a smaller road which continues in the right direction. The sky to the east grows light in the predawn making it easier to drive without lights.
ROADBLOCK SOUTH OF GDAŃSK
Bergan walks to his car.
The sergeant asks, “Sir, is the other SS officer also inspecting?”
“What other officer?”
“Hauptsturmführer Seidel, sir. I remember the name.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, Oberführer. I am certain.”
“Call on the radio. He must be stopped. I wish to speak to him.”
“Yes, Oberführer.”
Bergan gets into his car, puts it in gear, and floors it, heading north.
CHAPTER 22
ROADBLOCK AT PRUSEWO, 1 MILE SOUTH OF WIERZCHUCINO, POLAND
Spooky pulls up to the roadblock. The sergeant looks at his ID and says, “Sir. You need to wait here. An Oberführer wishes to speak with you.”
Spooky, in perfect German, “I see. Am I to meet him here?”
“It is our orders.”
“Very well. I will wait over there.”
He pulls forward and off to the side. On radio, “Triage, Spooky, I have a problem. I’m being stopped one mile south of Wierzchucino. Eight soldiers with light weapons and an armored car. There are trees to the east.”
“On our way. Hang tight.”
Spooky does his best impression of being bored.
ROADBLOCK AT REDA, POLAND
“Oberführer, we have seen no cars. None. We did get word that a Hauptsturmführer has been detained in Prusewo.”
“Where is Prusewo?”
“It is north of here. I can show you on your map, sir.”
“Now! Show me now!”
NEARING ROADBLOCK AT PRUSEWO, POLAND
Triage and his team shag it across a field to the trees between them and the roadblock. They get to the tree line and HT1 Chris ‘Broke Dick’ Langley unlimbers his sniper rifle. Using a crooked limb as a rest, he focuses on controlling his breath. The other SEALs spread out in a line in the tall gr
ass.
Triage, “Keep it to small arms if we can.”
On the radio, “Spooky, get out of your car and lay down on the ground. Now.” Spooky grabs his pack and gets out.
The machine gunner on the armored car sees Spooky get out of his vehicle, stretch, then drop. “What?” Broke Dick fires. The man drops, a bullet in his brain.
The Germans on the roadblock are confused for a second, then they open fire. Spooky gets to his feet, runs a few feet, then drops. The SEAL’s open up with M-14’s. Ensign Buford sees his first kill fall. He sees a German running, leads him, and squeezes the trigger. The man falls.
Triage on radio, “Spooky, run in a straight line toward the trees on your side of the road.” Spooky pushes to his feet, and shags it, sprinting the fastest ten-yard dash of his life.
A German soldier pulls the dead guy off the machine gun and opens up on the tree line. He’s crouched inside the armored car, peeking under the gun.
Spooky feels a burning sensation on his thigh. He stumbles and falls. Whizee breaks cover and runs to Spooky. He lifts him to his feet and turns toward the trees. Whizee takes a bullet to his back, and they both go down.
Triage, “Get that fucking machine gun.”
Buford and HM3 Jacob Warner break cover and run to the fallen men. Buford slides into position, shifting his weapon to full auto to cover them. A round hits his right arm. Another hits his chest armor. He takes a round to the head that knocks off his hockey helmet.
Broke Dick lines up his shot on the machine gun, “Got him.” He fires. There is a half inch gap below the gun that the German is using to see. Broke Dick’s round clears the gap, hitting the German in the right eye. “Go guys.”
Warner picks up Spooky in a fireman’s carry. Buford puts his swim buddy on his shoulder, and they run for cover. “Let’s go ladies.”
When they get into the trees, BM3 Doug Adams asks Buford, “You okay, man?”
Buford looks at the blood running down his arm. “It’s a scratch.”
AT THE ROADBLOCK
SS-Oberführer Otto Von Bergan skids his car to a stop in front of the armored vehicle. Every German soldier is dead. “The American commandos.” He backs up, and turns his car around, racing south.
SEAL TEAM AT WHIERZCHUCINO, POLAND
