by M L Maki
“What about the convoy, sir?”
“They will have to wait.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
“Conn, Torpedo. Tube 3 flooded.”
Cumberland, “Open doors. Match bearings. Captain Warren, would you like to fire the weapon?”
Warren, “Proceed, Commander. It’s your command.”
Cumberland looks at Rickover. Rickover motions for him to proceed.
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-160
Lassen, “Fire tubes 1 through 4. Reload immediately.”
“Captain, tubes 1 through 4 fired.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Cumberland pushes the fire button. “Conn, Sonar. Sierra 4 has fired four torpedoes. Bearing is constant.”
Cumberland, “Shit. Cut the wire and shut the door. Ahead flank. Five degrees down on the dive planes. Right full rudder.”
“Conn, Torpedo. Tube 3 fired electrically.”
“Conn, Sonar. Torpedo is hot, straight, and normal.”
“Conn, Torpedo. Door 3 is shut.”
The submarine tilts to the right and angles down. Rickover, “How deep can we go?”
Morrison tells him, then, “Sir, that number is top secret.”
Rickover, “As it must be.”
“Conn, Sonar. The torpedoes are spreading apart. They’re going to pass above and astern, sir.”
Cumberland, “Ahead 1/3rd. Make our depth 400 feet. Left rudder. Come to new course 140.”
GERMAN SUBMARINE U-160
Kapitanleutnant Georg Lassen hears the torpedo pinging. “Emergency blow. The Americans have guided torpedoes.”
Oberleutnant zur See Lutz Wechsler, “Yes, sir. It seems they do.” The sub splashes to the surface.
“Stand by to abandon ship.”
The torpedo detonates under the center of the sub, breaking it in two. The destroyer in the van of the convoy, USS Rhind, DD-404, turns toward the stricken sub.
CHAPTER 27
USS SAN FRANCISCO
1620, 15 March, 1942
Cumberland stands tall, his arms moving. He looks toward Captain Warren. “Morrison, bring us back into the training area and recommence drills.” He leaves, heading for his stateroom.
Warren, “We’ve seen enough. It’s nearly dark, so please take us back in.”
Morrison, “Yes, sir.”
Warren, “Commander Rickover, shall we retire to the wardroom to discuss their grade?”
PIER N, NSB, NEW LONDON
1710, 15 March, 1942
The brow is lowered in the dark. No services are hooked up, because the submarine is heading right back out to sea. Lt. Brown and Lt. Mallory climb out of the sub with their sea bags. Gustaf helps them. “I’m going to miss you, Mallory.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re in good hands with Younger. He’s a solid choice as LPO.”
“It blows my mind that they made you a lieutenant.”
“Captain Warren said that no one listens to an ensign. He’s right.”
“Okay, dude. Have you heard from Amy?”
“Yeah, have you heard from Debby?”
“No, man, I’m getting worried. I thought maybe it was too soon…but…How many letters have you got from Amy?”
“A few.”
“Has she said anything about Debby?”
Gary takes a deep breath, “It isn’t right for us to get involved.”
“Dude, I need the truth. Please?”
“She’s out bar hoping and looking for husband two or three. Break up and count your blessings.”
Gustaf starts crying, “Fuck. Fuck, man. What a bitch.”
“I’m sorry, dude. I’m doubly sorry you had to hear it from me.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for being truthful, it helps. Take care.”
“I will.” They shake hands.”
USS BEAVER, BOSTON HARBOR
The large submarine tender has been pushed away from the docks and her two screws bite into the cold water. Simmons is on the bridge, standing OOD under instruction. As they line up for the sea buoy, Commander Little motions Simmons over, “Are we ready to care for the submarine?”
“Nearly, sir. We will be before we arrive at Holy Loch.”
“Very good. We’ll be joining a convoy for the crossing. Maintaining station, even on a tender, is a challenge. As a naval vessel, it’s important that we do better than the civilians. Anything less would be considered a failure.”
“Yes, sir.”
They see a blinker flashing. Simmons opens the blinker manual. Commander Little, “It’s the destroyer Livermore. They’re leading convoy HX-2. That’s our ticket across the Atlantic.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
1842, 15 March, 1942
Warren, “So, your sub’s material condition is overall, fairly good. We’ve given you a hit list of sixteen items.”
Cumberland, “We’ve already corrected most of them.”
“Good. Operations: You need to refresh the crew’s training for radiation containment work. You need to correct the log taking errors we identified.”
“We’ll correct them immediately.”
“Good. Positive remarks: Your medical records are impeccable. The best we’ve seen. Watch stander knowledge is solid. Your training program, overall, is good. That brings us to morale.” Warren stops and looks at Cumberland, “Commander, the morale on your vessel is awful. It is the most clinically depressed crew I have ever seen. What are you going to do to fix your morale problem?”
Cumberland rocks back in his chair and looks at Morrison, who looks elsewhere. Finally, “Captain, I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Your crew morale is exceptionally low compared to that of the Long Beach or the Carl Vinson. I recognize your crew has been through a great deal. What are you going to do to address your crew’s morale?”
Cumberland, “I and Commander Morrison will discuss it.”
Warren, “Good. I’ll need a report on your plan of action, once formulated. Overall, we are giving you a grade of below average.”
Cumberland swallows, “Yes, sir.”
Warren, “Fix your morale problem before it impacts your mission capability.”
“Yes, sir.”
Warren and Rickover stand, shake their hands, and leave.
SS MARY BELL, CONVOY SC-3, 400 MILES SW OF ICELAND
0110, 17 March, 1942
AB Jimmy Calhoun stands out in the bitter cold and salt spray, binoculars to his eyes. They’re at the end of the southernmost line of the convoy. The Mary Bell is a bulk carrier loaded with wood and paper. He pulls his jacket closer against the bitter wind.
His eyes are pulled to the center of the convoy where he sees a flash of yellow orange light, followed by a column of water. The second blast bounces him off the bulkhead. That torpedo hit an aviation gas tanker.
U-575, INSIDE CONVOY SC-3
Kapitanleutnant Gunther Heydemann, “Fire tubes 3 and 4.”
They feel the thud, whoosh. “Captain, fish running hot, straight, and normal.”
“Very well. Reload. Shnell.”
“8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, impact.” The shock wave from their torpedoes hits rumbles through the boat.
Heydemann on the periscope, “Crash dive. Take us down to 80 meters. Some foolish American is trying to run us over.”
They can hear the sound of the other torpedoes from their wolf pack hitting their targets. “80 meters, sir.”
“Good. If we reload quickly, we may get to bite the tail, as well as the head.”
U-128, WEST OF U-575, INSIDE THE CONVOY
Kapitanleutnant Hermann Steinert, “Two kills. Very good. Stand by for a stern shot.” He spins the scope, “Mark.”
“192.”
“Doors are open, Captain.”
“Good. Make our bearing 184. 5 degree spread. Match bearings.”
“Bearings matched, sir.”
“Fire stern tubes.” They feel the shudder as the torpedoes are ejected. Steinert starts the count. He spins looking for other targets
and collision dangers. “2 and 1 hit.” He watches the torpedoes hit the bow and the stern of the target. “Very good. Let us dive as we reload. 100 meters.”
SS MARY BELL, CONVOY SC-3
AB Jimmy Calhoun struggles back to his feet. Sea water cascades down like heavy rain. The ship feels sluggish. The captain shouts, “Double the lashings on the cargo holds!”
He immediately heads down the deck. His right leg isn’t working right. He and the crew add lashings. Twenty minutes into the task, he can feel the wood pushing against the chains forward. The bow starts digging into the sea. He can feel the vibration of the engines restarting. If they can keep the wood in the holds, it might keep them afloat long enough to limp into port.
TRONDHEIM, NORWAY
1710, 18 March, 1942
Helmut Schmitt walks down a street with shops. Most of the shops are closed. The Norwegians on the street look at him suspiciously. He walks beside a home with a yard. Two young children are playing with a ball. It bounces off their hands toward him. He smiles, catches the ball easily, and throws it back.
The boy smiles at him and throws the ball to him. Laughing, he returns the throw. Then, a woman exits the back door, says something to the children and rushes them inside. She turns and looks at him, frowning.
Schmitt sighs and walks on. Zimmerman catches up to him, “What were you doing?”
“The kids were throwing the ball like my brothers.”
“They are not to be trusted, Helmut.”
“It seems that goes both ways, Hansel. If we strike terror everywhere, we go how will we manage the world once it is ours?”
“You think too much. I know where there is beer.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, 800 FEET SOUTH OF ICELAND, IN THE ATLANTIC GAP AHEAD OF CONVOY HX-2
2010, 19 March, 1942
Morrison is slammed awake out of deep sleep by the 1MC, “Captain to the Conn.”
He gets out of bed and dresses quickly.
“Tracking party to control.”
He walks aft. Cumberland is already in control checking the table, a big smile on his face. He looks at Morrison, “We’ve a new contact. Sierra 7.”
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra 7’s bearing is 094 distant. Twin, three-bladed screws. They just submerged.”
Morrison looks at the updated charts. He sees that Sierra 7 is 35 miles ahead. Cumberland, “Ahead flank.”
U-656, NE OF CONVOY HX-2
Sonar, “Captain, I’m hearing something odd. It sounds like a screw, but different.”
Kapitanleutnant Ernst Kroning picks up a spare headset, “I do not hear anything. Perhaps it’s the ice to our north.”
“Sir, it sounds like it is passing to our south.”
“I see. Could it be an aircraft near the water?”
“It could be, sir. It is too fast to be a submerged submarine.”
“Where is the convoy?”
“The nearest is to our west and south, sir, at about fifteen miles. It will pass to our south.”
“Then we need to move. We must not miss our dance.”
U-352, SE OF CONVOY HX-2, SW OF SAN FRANCISCO
Kapitanleutnant Helmut Rathke stands up, “You think it a submarine, Koch. It must be very advanced. I must think on this. Where is the convoy?”
“About twelve miles, sir, to our west and north.”
“I see. We need to maneuver.”
U-573, 9 MILES EAST AND 2 MILES NORTH OF HX-2
Kapitanleutnant Heinrich Heinsohn listens to his sonarman. Krause is his very best. “Sir, I think it is a submarine traveling very fast. It however has left the door open for us to access the convoy. It is a mistake, sir.”
“He heard Haydemann submerge and rushed forward to kill him. Sad for Haydemann, but an opportunity for us.”
U-128, 8 MILES EAST, 3 MILES SOUTH OF HX-2
“Sir, there is a destroyer in the van and another to the south of the southernmost line.”
Kapitanleutnant Steinert, “The convoy will pass to our north?”
“Yes, sir, about two miles.”
“Very well.” To the helm, “Ahead 2/3rds. Make our course 000. Keep our depth 20 meters.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO, 40 MILES EAST OF THE CONVOY
Once they slow from their sprint, “Conn, Sonar. New contact, designate Sierra 8. Bearing 245.”
Cumberland, “Sonar, is this the same as Sierra 7?”
“No, sir. Sierra 7 is at 082. Both are submerged submarines. Sir, new contact, designate Sierra 9. Bearing is 282. Damn, another submerged submarine. I picked up 8 and 9 on the tail.”
Morrison comes into sonar, “Guys, look for more. Some wolf packs have as many as eight subs.”
Brown points at two lines, “Conn, Sonar. Two new contacts designate 10 and 11. They’re near, but separate from 8 and 9. 10 is flooding tubes.”
Cumberland storms into sonar, “Brown, how the hell did you miss them?”
“Sir, they were just sitting there. Now, they’re maneuvering to get inside the convoy.”
Cumberland looks at Morrison, his eyes wide and his face drained of color. He sprints into control, “Right full rudder. Take us about. Ahead standard. Get me a lock on 8 through 11. Load tubes 1 through 4 with Mark 48s. Once loaded, flood each tube.”
Morrison, “Brown, Guthrie, don’t worry about it. It’s okay. Just work the problem in front of you.”
Guthrie, “Yes, sir.”
Brown, “Conn, Sonar. Sierra11 is flooding tubes. Sierra 9 is flooding tubes.”
Morrison, “Thank you, Brown, Guthrie.”
USS LIVERMORE, 1 MILE EAST OF HX-2
The Livermore is clearing a gale to their west. The seas are rough with large period rollers. The destroyer finds itself pushing through deep troughs. Henry Morrison is on the port bridge wing, binoculars to his eyes. This is the gap where aircraft cannot patrol. From several crossings, they have learned that this is the most dangerous time.
Huber joins him, “How are you doing?”
Morrison does not put his binoculars down, “I’m cold, but death is cold, too. I’ll manage.”
Huber, “You think your grandson is out there?”
“If he is, sir, we’ll never find him. If we find a sub, we fire on it. He knows to stay clear of us.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Morrison looks over the chart table. The closest ship in the convoy is twenty-five miles away. They have tracks on four submarines, all fairly close together and right in front of the convoy.
U-575, EASTERN MOST OF WOLF PACK
Heydemann leans against a bulkhead, waiting. The crew is doing its duty. All is calm efficiency.
A radioman enters with the latest decoded dispatch. He reads, “Ten U-boats are missing already in March, presumed lost. High command believes the Americans have introduced a new weapon. The weapon is likely air-based, and we do not understand its nature. Any encounters with this weapon system must be reported to high command, immediately, so an effective response may be devised.” He smiles, and thinks, “So, once we have destroyed it, we should inform high command regarding what we killed. Yes.”
USS SAN FRANCISCO
Tube 1 and 2 are loaded and flooded. Evan is preparing the Amphenol for tube 3. “Chief, do you think they really need four fish?”
Kennedy, “The Germans hunt in wolf packs. They may need even more. We cycle through as fast as we safely can.”
“Amphenol is installed. The torpedo is talking. Moving forward.”
“Moving aft.” The torpedo slides into place.
They hear, “Open door on tubes 1 and 2.”
Evan looks at his chief, then pushes the button. They hear and feel the side slot in the sub move inward, exposing the torpedoes.
U-656, 200 FEET, EAST OF HX-2
Sonar, “Captain, new contact. Submarine at 094 is flooding tubes.”
Kroning, “It is Heydemann getting antsy. We are nearly there. Open doors for tubes 1 through 4. When we have the shot, I want to be ready.”
