Attack of the Greyhounds

by H. Nelson Freeman

  “BuPers has retained the assignments made following the loss of the command structure. I am still the Captain, and Lieutenant Smith is our XO. The other changes we made are permanent. Also, there are several officers and enlisted replacements on the way; they should begin arriving tomorrow.”

  “Our shipyard overhaul is complete, tie up any loose ends left over, and let’s get this ship looking like what she is. The best fighting ship in the Pacific.”

  There were the normal what if and when questions that would come from such a statement the Captain made. They were all answered; then, the XO got them on their way.

  True to the report of replacements, new crewmembers began filing aboard by zero-nine-hundred-hours. By thirteen-hundred, the ship‘s Administrative Officer Lieutenant JG Marvin Montgomery called the captain, “Sir, all the replacements are aboard, we are at our full crew as of noon.”

  “Very well, anything I should be aware of?”

  “None, sir, everything has checked out with the replacements.”

  “Very well, carry on.”

  Captain Lanner caught up on his never-ending paperwork, then donned his garrison cap and began his rounds of the ship. The first stop was Main Control, then the two fire rooms and after engine room.

  “Captain, it’s good to see you again.” Ensign Banner greeted his former division officer.

  “You know, I’ve missed this place, and the after engine room. But, most of all, I missed the good coffee.”

  “We have a fresh pot in its usual place, and your cup is still waiting for you.”

  “Ah, this is where I left it. I’ve looked high and low for that cup. Can I leave it here for safekeeping?”

  “Absolutely sir, we would be honored to be the guardians of the Captain’s cup,” he said with a smile.

  After a few minutes of chatting with the men, the Captain continued his rounds. He made it a point to stop and talk with every man he came across. He believed that the men know who their Captain is, and they could talk to him without fear. He disliked the ‘The image of the unapproachable man in the ivory tower,’ some officers live with.

  The ship’s work continued, with her beginning to look like the top ship-of-the-line. Then the training began. On the second Friday following the end of the drydock work, the crew was given a three day holiday. It would be the last three days in a row off for the foreseeable future.

  Those men with families in Hawaii spent every moment together. Maggie and Chris were no different. On Sunday, Maggie and Chris attended services at the base chapel. When they walked in, they were surprised to see all of the officers, their families, and several single officers and enlisted men from the ship.

  After the service, the Captain invited them all to the Lanner residence for a get-together. He wanted the men, officers, and enlisted to get used to the new command arrangement and address any questions that may be on the men’s minds. By eighteen-hundred hours, the crowd had left after every one pitched in to help clean up and wash the dishes. Monday morning came too fast for anyone’s liking.

  The engineers were rousted at zero-three-thirty to begin the light-off procedures. For the next four hours, they spent slowly heating the plant and bringing it up to pressure and temperature. At specific times the deck crew was a route; the cooks and mess-cooks began preparing breakfast. In the Operations Department, those who maintain and operate the ship’s radar, sonar, and Fire Control were at their stations at zero-five-hundred, checking everything twice. Throughout the ship, Officers and men brought the cold steel to life. By zero-seven-thirty, the cooks closed the galley and began their cleanup.

  “Now set the Special Sea and Anchor Detail,” blasted from the 1MC. Those men not already on station hurried to their posts. Reports of readiness from all over the ship came into the new bridge.

  At zero-seven-forty-five, the former Engineering Officer said, “OOD, have main Control disengage jacking gear, and they have permission to spin the main engines when they are ready.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Five minutes later, the calm water about the stern of the sleek destroyer broiled, and the big screws turned first astern, then forward, then astern again at zero-seven fifty-five. The OOD gave the order to single up all lines. Then the stern line was released, and the Captain gave the command to begin moving the stern from the pier.

  “Shift colors,” was called over the 1MC, and a large Forty-eight Stars and Stripes popped open on the mainmast. Normally a much smaller national flag would open on the flagstaff at the rear of the after stack. But the Captain wanted the maximum effect of the great flag flying proudly from the mainmast where it could not be unobserved. At the same time, the ship’s horn gave off a three-second blast, announcing their movement, sharply at zero-eight-hundred hours. All about them, other ships in the harbor, and on the base, flag-raising honors were in progress.

  The pilot boarded the ship, and behind her was HALLIS’s sister ship, the AGAR, following her out of the harbor. Once at sea, Captain Gilford is in command of the two destroyers, being the Senior Officer Present Afloat, the SOPA. The two destroyers would work both independently and as a team on every drill in the book. The drills would be run again, and again, until every man, every team, every leader could successfully meet and overcome every casualty and battle damage, within reason.

  They practice seamanship, both singularly and together. During the night hours, the engineers would run casualty control drills and firefighting scenarios until every man got it right. Fires aboard ships at sea are particularly dangerous, and there is no fire department to call on the ocean. Every man aboard is drilled in fighting fires; no other help may be available.

  Several days later, the Captain got on the 1MC, “Men, were headed for the live gunnery fire area. There we will double-check the calibration and accuracy of our firing. We have excellent Gunner’s Mates on this ship. Those in the Gunnery Division, pay close attention to your petty officers, they can put you on target, and give you tips to safely do your job. To every man on this ship, remember you are part of a team. The loss or failure of one man will not stop us fighting, but could cause a casualty or injury. If you have a question, your petty officers either have or can get the answer. Don’t hesitate to ask. Good luck.”

  Throughout the day, the Gunnery Division fired, and checked their accuracy, then fired again, and rechecked the results. Finally, all four of the five-inch mounts were on target at different distances. At sixteen thirty, the firing exercise for the main armament ended, and following the evening meal, there was the report and critique.

  During the night watches, each watch conducted several drills, culminating a week of work that retrained the experienced leaders and made sailors and engineers of the new men.

  At zero-eight-hundred, the 1MC lit off. “Now General Quarters, General Quarters, All Hands man your General Quarters stations, stand by to repel aircraft. Set Condition One.”

  “OOD prepare the ship for secondary antiaircraft battery practice.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  It was time for the forty-millimeter and twenty-millimeter guns to practice on towed sleeves. An aircraft will fly at various heights and distances about the ship while towing a target sleeve behind the plane on a long cable.

  The training continued, then as the allotted time to access the live-fire range expired, the two ships headed for Pearl Harbor. The next two weeks would be devoted to preparing the ship for her next deployment. It included topping off all the fuel tanks, dry provisions, and material needs of the ship. It would also allow the men to be with loved ones as much as possible. Last-minute additions to the crew would check-in, and the men assigned to their billets. Reams of reports would be taken to the squadron office for review and prepared for archiving. Working parties will load fresh and long term provisions for the crew.

  Two or three days before departure, the two Gleaves had been scheduled to receive their full war load of weapons, shells for the five-inch guns, ammunition for the twenty and forty-millimet
er cannons, Mark 15 torpedoes, three-hundred-pound depth charges for the K-guns, and seven-hundred-pound roll off depth charges for the stern racks.

  The Captain finally got home by nineteen-hundred-hours. Chris later said to Maggie, “We should set up a luau for the ship's crew.”

  “I like the sounds of that; it’s been a while since we’ve been to one. What do you think about adding the officers from the hospital?”

  “Good idea, I feel that I still owe them a new life for all they’ve done for me. It would be good for both the officers and men to get to know one another. After all, we’re all in this together.”

  “I agree, the division between the officers and enlisted will always be there, but I think it’s important that both know the others are human.”

  “True, aboard ship, both the officers and men work together and all too often, save one another and even die for one another.”

  Maggie looked into Chris’ eyes, a tear falling from hers as she said, “War is hell, and I hate it.”

  Chris held his wife tightly for the rest of the evening, little being said as each silently let memories and events stream through their minds.

  Maggie’s head lay on his chest; she whispered, “Please come back to me.”

  “I will; we’re going to live on, have a family, and grow old together.”

  Maggie squeezed him tightly.

  The next sound they heard what the shrill alarm clock yelling at them to get up, it was time to begin putting together the luau.

  Maggie called Lieutenant Jean Seymore, “Hey Jeannie, it’s me, Maggie. We’re going to put together a Luau this coming weekend, and we are going to need some help.”

  “A Luau? I haven’t been to one in over a year, that’ll be a ball. I know most of the staff at the hospital would like to get involved.”

  “Would you take on finding out who will come? I’ll get Mary Lou to get some help putting together food and drinks. And Lieutenant Mac has a line on meat; he could get a couple of medium to large hogs.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “How many guests are you planning on?” Jean asked.

  “Well, I would expect about fifty-to-sixty from the ship, and maybe thirty from the hospital staff.”

  “Then we better plan enough food for at least a hundred to a hundred-and-fifty. Our recreation fund can help, and I’d be willing to bet the ship's rec fund can chip in too. I’ll check with Chris.”

  “Sound like we had better get right at it.”

  “Call you later, Jeannie.”

  ****

  The officers and crew were still talking about the great time they had at the Luau. Several men had never been to a Luau, making it a special treat.

  In two days, the two sister ships would set sail as part of the escort for a supply convoy for the Guadalcanal campaign. Chris was unable to pinpoint why Maggie seemed happier than usual. He let the thoughts slip back into his memory as the needs of the ship took over.

  “Captain, the squadron commander is approaching the ship.” The OOD said on the phone.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Captain Lanner made it to the quarterdeck just as the four striper hit the bottom of the gangway. After reporting aboard, Captain Lanner escorted him to the ship’s wardroom, where they drew some black coffee and grabbed a couple of chairs.

  “To what do I owe your visit, sir?”

  Captain Sheffield shrugged, “I just wanted to stop by and wish you a safe journey and to thank you for the excellent Luau. What did you dress that pork with, it was worthy of an award.”

  “I rubbed a combination of spices my mother uses back in Iowa. She spent years testing different combinations of spices until she found the right one.”

  “She could probably make history with that recipe.”

  “We tried to get her to sell it to a spice company, but she wouldn’t have it.”

  “If you can get it, I would like a copy, and I agree to keep it within the family.”

  Laughing, Chris said, “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

  “I know you’re very busy, getting ready to deploy. Keep your people safe if you can, but don’t pass up an opportunity to hit the enemy whenever possible.”

  “With pleasure, sir.”

  Captain Sheffield departed the ship after wishing the officers a safe journey and gave the crewmen he encountered words of encouragement.

  The Captain and Maggie spent most of the night feverishly trying to capture all their passion to hold over the long separation they faced. Exhausted, they fell into a deep sleep. Then, the alarm clock fought through their sleep-deprived brains, “Get up, time to go to war.”

  Maggie drove Chris to the ship; their conversations were short. Partly due to their having only an hour's sleep. The rest because there was little to be said that hadn’t already been said. At the gangway, they parted their wet lips and whispered their devotions to one another. Maggie still had that almost dreamy, happy smile, and a twinkle in her eyes.

  Chris stopped on the quarterdeck, turned and saluted his wife. Not being in uniform, Maggie waved and threw him a last kiss, then turned and headed for the car. She didn’t want him to see the tears running down her flushed cheeks.

  It was zero-seven-thirty when the ship slipped her lines and blew her horn. She was underway and headed once again into harm's way.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The ten older cargo and troopship convoy steamed southwest at almost fifteen knots, having newer ships would make the voyage faster. The convoy commander was Rear Admiral David Hastings. Admiral Hastings was a committed sea fairing sailor from a long family of seamen. His love for the sea was second only to his love of his country.

  David Hastings lost his wife to cancer ten years earlier, leaving him their only son, now a Naval Officer in his own right. At forty-five years of age, he was in his prime. His imaginative mind and keen intellect helped propel him to his early flag rank.

  His flag flew from the mast of a heavy cruiser. His escorts included a light cruiser and eight destroyers, attesting to the importance of the convoy.

  The convoy turned south toward Bora Bora, where they would top off their tanks for the run to Vanuatu. There, the convoy would find safety in the large bay of the island from any marauding Japanese submarines.

  The trip remained tranquil, except when the warships were all boarded at the equator by the Terror of the Seas, King Neptunus Rex, Ruler of the Deep. He extracted his due from the slimy pollywogs for their insolent invasion of his sacred realm.

  It took two days to top off all the ships at Bora Bora, during which the escorts scoured the ocean within fifty-miles in every direction for any signs of enemy ships or subs. When the convoy continued its trek toward the war zone, the route planners tried to stay clear of any potential enemy submarine patrol areas. Admiral Hastings orders took the convoy northwest from the French Polynesian island of Bora-Bora, north of Cook Island, then dived southwest to stay south of Tonga and the Fiji Islands. In the middle of the South Pacific Ocean, the convoy swung to course three-one-eight and slipped unseen into Vanuatu’s huge bay.

  The destroyers didn’t see any rest; they became part of the defensive antisubmarine patrol around the island. They patrolled in rings of twenty, fifty, and a hundred miles around the island. No strict patrol schedule implemented a hard course to ensure an enemy sub could not set up a trap.

  Captain Gilford’s AGAR and the HALLIS worked well together; every eight hours, the ships would trade roles, from sound search to shotgun.

  HALLIS was riding shotgun when the AGAR signaled, “Sound contact, bearing three-one-four true, deep, possibly three-hundred-feet or more. Indications are he is headed zero-nine-zero at five knots.”

  “OOD alert the crew to the message and prepare the ship for a depth charge attack. Helm come to zero-nine-zero, speed ten knots. Talker, get the sound team on him.”

  The ship swung around to the new course, and HALLIS moved ahead and took up a better surface action location.
Then the AGAR moved into a better attack position,

  “Bridge, sound, I have a bearing two-six-two degrees, estimated distance to be one-point-five miles, still deep.”

  “Bridge aye,” answered the talker. He then relayed the report to the OOD and the Captain.

  “Helm come to two six-eight-two degrees, maintain ten knots. OOD, have main battery cover the suspected surfacing area and standby for surface action.”

  “Aye, sir,” the OOD replied as he began issuing orders in compliance with the Captain's directions. The Captain adjusted the course of the ship to allow full coverage by all four of the five-inch mounts. The gunnery officer had two mounts loaded with contact fuses, and two with AP, armor-piercing, to ensure opening the pressure hull.

  The AGAR began her attack run. Captain Gilford gave the order to fire, and the three K-guns outboard from each side of the after deckhouse began throwing the three-hundred-pound depth charges into the sea. Their arbors followed each into an arch with them landing nearly a hundred yards from both sides of the ship. At the same time, seven hundred pound depth charges began rolling off the stern.

  Captain Gilford had ordered the fuses set for three-hundred feet, causing a delay while the charges sunk to their detonation depth. When they did go off, only a dome of rolling, dirty, water, marked their location. The AGAR dropped several patterns, yet the elusive sub refused to surface. Both ships were traveling at ten knots, allowing the sound technicians to wait out the noisy bursting bubbles caused by the exploding depth charges.

  The crafty submariner had eluded the two destroyers and slipped away in the destroyer’s wakes. After an hour of searching, the two Gleaves turned toward Vanuatu in the fading light. When they arrived at their buoy, a fuel lighter barge pulled into position between the two destroyers, and fuel hoses were attached. It took two hours to top off both ship’s fuel bunkers. An ammunition barge began passing replacement depth charges to AGAR.