The large plane became a prime target of all the guns firing to port. With continuous hits from twenty and forty-millimeter rounds, the plane began to disintegrate, and the forces of the climb and airspeed completed the destruction of the G4M. The pieces from the plane covered over three hundred yards in an expanding arch.
As the big bronze screws bit into the sea in reverse, the bow of the ship nosed into the calm waters, throwing a wave over the main deck back to the fifty-one mount. Men who failed to heed the warning of the emergency back down were thrown forward, impacting bulkheads, hatches, and fittings. Books loose pans in the galley, and anything not secured flew through the air, some making contact with men as well as bulkheads. Several men sustained minor injuries, with two exceptions. One man hit a bulkhead head-first, causing serious injury, and another suffered a broken leg.
The two Betty’s on the starboard side fared better than their fellow fliers. Both planes managed to evade serious damage but did pick up several holes, and one lost part of its rudder.
The four seventeen-inch diameter torpedoes ran true to their settings, but the backdown slowed the ship enough to allow the fish to cross ahead of the destroyer.
A rumbling explosion a mile away marked the successful hit by one torpedo beneath the bridge of the AGAR. The ship staggered and slowed as the shock disrupted the forward boiler rooms plant. The engineers cross-connected the steam systems, providing the forward engine steam. The ship's speed dropped to twenty-five knots. A quick response by the crew brought it back online in about ten minutes.
Damage control teams were able to isolate the damaged spaces, and counter-flooding kept the ship on an even keel. The opening in the hull caused a reduction of their top speed to thirty-knots. But the shock damaged the radar system, and AGAR went blind in the night.
Captain Gilford radioed his condition to HALLIS. Captain Lanner said, “Continue to Guadalcanal, we will ride shotgun for you. If any bad guys show up, we can draw them into a running fight; you need to make it to Cactus with those boats.”
“I agree, Chris, but you’re right, they have to get through.”
Captain Lanner called to the OOD, “Make sure radar is on their toes, if any IJN ships show, we will make them chase us, while AGAR gets the boats back to Cactus.”
“Aye, sir.” A minute later, the OOD said, “Sir, radar has a range of forty miles in the quiet sea and says there are indications of possible ships at the extreme range of the radar. No further information at this time, but they will keep on it and let us know as soon as they can get any information.”
“Very well, better inform the crew, and have them prepare for a surface engagement with torpedoes and all guns in range.”
The reduced speed of the four-vessel force allowed the faster moving IJN cruiser and destroyers to begin gaining on their position.
Twenty-minutes later radar called the bridge, “We now have a fix on a force of unknown size gaining on us. Enemy bearing two-nine-eight, course one-one-seven, speed thirty-seven, distance thirty, and closing.”
The Captain motioned to the Bo ‘sun for the 1MC. “This is the Captain, soon as you have guessed, we’re going to go up against a superior force of enemy ships. I would rather not pilot a wrecked ship with casualties into Pearl again. I’m asking a hundred-twenty percent from all hands in the coming engagement. There are several Japanese ships lurking thirty miles astern and closing. The AGAR is wounded, and they will be taking the PT boats to Cactus. We are going to give them the time they need to make it. We’re going to swing around to port and do our best to make use of our radar. Lookouts stay sharp, look for bow waves and wakes, and any other signs of those ships. May God look after us all, Captain out.”
The Captain looked at the bridge crew in the low subdued glow from the instruments. “Well, men, are we ready?”
“Aye, sir,” came a united chorus.
The Captain grabbed the TBS and called his friend. “Tom, time to bug out, get those boats to Cactus.”
“I hate to see you take them on alone, but the boats have to get through. When you get back, I owe you and Maggie a dozen dinners on me. This is an order, bring that ship and her crew home in one piece. God bless. AGAR out.”
Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Turning to the OOD, “Bring us about to port, course two-nine-eight, thirty knots.”
“Aye, Captain, two-nine-eight at thirty knots.” The helm received the order and began a normal turn to the left.
Captain Lanner motioned to the OOD to join him next to the helm and lee-helm station. “Here’s my plan, we’re going to slow down to ten knots inside of ten miles of the enemy, then turn to starboard. The enemy will travel in line formation unless they have changed their tactics, which is unlikely. We will stand off parallel with them and launch every torpedo we have. Then when the torpedoes reach or hit them, we open up with everything we have. If they have a cruiser in the mix, ignore it, we want the destroyers. If we can disable two and get lucky with three, I’m hoping the cruiser will pull back as they have recently. They may be holding them for something bigger, and don’t want to endanger them right now. As soon as the firing begins, have Main Control open the throttles to the stops. Helm, zig, zag, jink, turning only enough to throw off their aim but keep our base course of one-zero-two, toward Guadalcanal. OOD, have the talker report a running position and distance of enemy ships and landmasses within ten miles. That course will take us near the Russell Islands. I’ll have a message ready to be transmitted the minute we open fire with the main battery. Questions? Good, let's get to work.”
The OOD had the talker set up constant communications with radar to comply with their orders. At twenty miles separation between the enemy ships and HALLIS, radar began calling off the distance in miles. The OOD called Main Control on the ship's Interior Communications System. “We’re getting close to the enemy force. We’ll slow to ten knots but be ready at any time to go balls to the wall at a hundred percent throttle. It will be a race for life and death.”
“I understand, I request permission to wire down the safeties on the boilers, it should give an extra knot or two, but puts everyone down here in a dangerous position.”
The OOD quickly turned to the Captain with the request. Captain Lanner, the former Chief Engineer, thought for a couple of seconds then approved the request.
“Do it, Lieutenant.” The OOD told the Chief Engineer. The boiler room crews donned asbestos gloves and took wire up to the top of the running boilers. The heat being so intense, only one man could tie one safety, then he had to get off the boiler. Then another would work on the next safety until all four boilers were tied down.
At ten miles distance, the ship slowed to ten knots and turned toward the enemy column, then paralleled them. The ship moved as stealthily as possible, closer to the enemy track. Once they came within range, all the torpedoes received three thousand pounds of compressed air to launch them a few degrees apart. The Operations Center calculated the time to target and set the guns to fire on arrival.
The word went out over all internal sound circuits, “Standby to fire main battery and accelerate to maximum speed.”
An explosion occurred beneath a destroyer, and the last ten feet of the ship separated from the rest and immediately sunk. The ship rapidly slowed and began settling at the stern. The glow of the fire that started revealed a ship behind her as well as one in front.
At the same time, all four mounts fired their five-inch guns, concentrating on the first destroyer. Eight rounds rained around and on the Momi class destroyer, starting fires and destroying top-side gear and lifeboats. One fire began burning fiercely in the torpedo reload storage, then one thousand-eighty-nine-pound warhead exploded, starting a rippling series of explosions that tore the ship in half.
The Gleaves squatted as the twin screws drove the ship ahead, closing in on twenty-five knots before the stunned enemy got off its first round. A geyser jumped one-hundred-fifty yards to the starboard of the HALLIS. The helm, keeping t
he pre-contact orders of the Captain in mind, turned the ship starboard, thinking the enemy gunners would correct their next shot.
Three geysers jumped around the track the ship vacated in turning, then the helmsman threw the ship into a tight port turn, attempting to throw the enemy aim off once again.
Behind them, another ship jumped at the explosive force of eight-hundred-twenty-five pounds of HBX. The distance from HALLIS prevented the identification of the ship that exploded.
Helmsman, Quartermaster Third Class Joel Kemptford continued to push the ship as if he were in an open road race. The Lee-Helmsman, Darrian Olds listened carefully for orders to change the speed and direction of the engines.
The HALLIS was inching away from the Japanese warships, each minute opening the distance. The pit log was giving readings that showed the ship was at thirty-eight-knots and struggled to go further.
“Helm, change your base course slowly to one-one-five as you weave back and forth. I want to take them away from AGAR’s track.”
“Aye, sir,” the Helmsman said as he began making adjustments. The ship's track shifted a little to starboard with each cycle of bobs and weaves. The firing of the main battery had slowed down as the men tired from their exertion and the heat build-up in the mounts.
The Captain called to the OOD, Lieutenant JG Wayne Hamilton, “Wayne, how good are the men in the repair parties that are designated to replace the five-inch-gunners?”
“Sir, they have been training hard, I would put them up against any in a contest.”
“Have the mounts change crews one at a time, and get the main crews a break.”
“Right away, sir.”
Inside five minutes, the crews in the four mounts had been changed out, and the firing began anew, at a faster rate. The paint on the barrels of all four guns blistered and turned black from the intensity of the gunfire heat.
The ship shuttered when an enemy shell found its mark in the after deckhouse. The explosion put the fifty-three mount out of commission. “No fire reported from mount fifty-three, but they have a hydraulic failure,” talker Seaman Second Class Allen Conner called out. Then he added, “The handling room reports three men injured, and they are requesting medical assistance.
The helm continued to make irregular turns and faints, to foul the enemy’s aim. The Captain said, “Seaman Conner, check with radar for an update.’
The youngster immediately started talking into the mouthpiece. Seconds later, he responded, “Sir, radar reports the enemy ships are falling behind…wait one, sir. Radar now reports the enemy column is turning away to port.”
“Helm, maintain our base course and speed. Talker call Operations and have the XO inspect and report on the injuries and damage to mount fifty-three and the after deckhouse. Then have all stations report on damage and casualties.”
“Aye, sir,” the youngster’s sharp demeanor, stood out in the Captain’s mind, ‘The kid is keeping his cool, and he’s showing natural control over emotions.’ He mentally filed that for later reference.
The seas were quiet, with no explosions, gunfire, screams, and anguish. The Captain relaxed for the first time since embarking on this mission. His prayer was it wasn’t in vain. In Christopher Lanner’s world, a man or woman’s death in vain was a horrible loss, and in some cases, negligent.
His last letters from Maggie seemed highly positive and happier than he recalled in earlier letters. It gave him considerable relief, the war wasn’t going in favor of the allies, and that created a great deal of anxiety throughout the world. Her words of encouragement bolstered his resolve to lead his men with their welfare upmost in is mind.
“Sir,” a messenger from Signal brought the Captain back to reality. “This message just came in,” as he handed the Skipper the flimsy copy.
Captain Lanner read the message, a smile spreading across his face. He grabbed the 1MC. “This is the Captain,” he said with a lighter heart. “We have been ordered to anchor in Assembly Area X-Ray. The ship will be checked over, then we refuel and head for Brisbane for some downtime. I will keep you advised on details as they become available. Captain out.”
That bit of news brought the spirits of the men up considerably, and there were smiles breaking out throughout the ship. The lone exceptions were the after deckhouse and sickbay. The shell hit caused damage to hydraulic lines and the ammunition hoist system. Half a dozen men were injured, two seriously, and the mount would need either a repair ship or shipyard accessibility.
In Sickbay, the ship’s physician worked furiously to stop the bleeding from a seaman’s liver. A call went out for A-positive blood donors. It didn’t take long for over a dozen men to respond to a shipmate in need for the lifesaving fluid. At the head of the line was Steward’s Mate First Class Marvin Franklin, a native of Troy, Alabama. One sailor from a deep southern town began to take exception to the steward’s presence. A Chief standing behind him said, “Belay that crap sailor, this is no place for stupidity. Human blood is human blood, and it could save our shipmate’s life.”
“You don’t understand Chief.”
“I understand perfectly sailor; I’m from Brewton, Alabama, and I’m very aware of what you’re thinking, so knock it off.”
“Having problems, Chief?”
“No, sir,” the Chief said, taking care of Chief’s business.” He said to the XO.
“Very well, Chief, good work, carry on.”
The doctor walked out of the wardroom turned into the main sickbay. His head was hanging in defeat when he looked at the XO; he shook his head, “The seaman bled out too fast, we lost him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Captain was thinking about having a shamrock painted on the stack, but he heard the USS O’BANNON DD-450 beat him to it. The alternative was an upside-down horseshoe. He decided to research that logo.
The ship was still at thirty knots as it approached the northwestern corner of Guadalcanal. “Helm, reduce speed to twenty knots, make your course zero-six-eight. The Captain stuck his head into the small navigator’s office and said, we’re going through Cape Esperance on zero-six-eight, plot a course to split Savo and Guadalcanal, then take us to X-Ray.”
“Aye, sir.”
An hour and a half the OOD said, “Let go the anchor,” and the talker passed the order, seconds later the loud rattle of the anchor chain sounded as the heavy steel anchor dropped into the water with a loud splash. In seconds it hit bottom and was locked into place. Now the ship would swing with the flow of the current but remain stationary.
The engineering plants remained split with one boiler in each boiler room on the line supplying steam to the generators and pumps. Those systems with electrical powered secondary pumps put their steam-driven pumps in standby. The engines remained warmed up and on the jacking gear.
Operations maintained a full steaming watch with radar watching for all aircraft and ships, plotting all movements. The soundmen manned the hydrophone and listened in the passive, listening mode. The radiomen monitored not only allied frequencies but known enemy bands as well. The ship was still in Condition One but modified to allow the use of the ship's facilities and food services. HALLIS was a ship-of-war now at rest, but ready to fight in an instant. Because of the special circumstances of the war zone, the command remained on the bridge, in constant control with a junior officer at the quarterdeck to accept visitors if necessary, and the all-important mail service.
It wasn’t long a motor whaleboat approached, carrying the most precious cargo for a Navy ship, the mail. An hour later, each division mail petty officer began handing out the letter, papers, and packages from home.
Captain Lanner received a handful of letters that had been chasing the ship about the South Pacific. Sitting in his small cabin behind the bridge, he sorted the letter by date, then began with the oldest postal mark.
The third letter had a small bird printed on the upper left corner with Maggie's name and their address at the naval station. Maggie’s letters were beginning to
show an increase of happiness in her writings. Chris was happy with her new position as the head of nurses in her section, and her promotion to Lieutenant Commander. In her last letter, she asked if he objected to her folks visiting them, knowing he wouldn’t mind. He sat down and wrote out a quick letter to her, ensuring her he was safe, as well as the ship. He added he thought a visit from her parents would be great. If they stayed long enough, the four of them could enjoy the sights of Hawaii together. It would be the first time they had been together since Maggie and he were married. Their first visit was about a week before the wedding; then, her folks needed to return to Lincoln, Nebraska, where the elder Xanders Thorp had a farm to run.
A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts of home and Maggie. “Sir, this just came from Cactus,” the messenger said as he handed the Captain a flimsy.
Captain Lanner called the bridge, “Have the XO lay to my cabin.”
A couple of minutes passed, then a knock at the door announced the arrival of the XO. “You sent for me, sir?”
“Yes, Leroy. The AGAR and we have received orders to head for the oiler to refuel. From there, we sail for Brisbane as part of the escort for a group of ships. Once at Brisbane, the shipyard will take over and repair both ships. We’ll have some down-time to get some rest and begin the training of the replacements that are to join us there. Get with our new Navigator and the duty OOD to layout our tracks. We get underway in an hour.”
“Aye, sir.” The XO took his leave to carry out the orders.
Chris took a moment to look at the last letter again. Something wasn’t clicking; although Maggie had always been light a cheerful, her writing was unusually so. He shook his head, ‘It must be the stress and load I’m not accustomed to yet.’ He put the letters away and headed for the bridge, where the OOD gave him an update on their current condition and preparations for getting underway.
Attack of the Greyhounds Page 21
