by Unknown
This was just the third of over thirty ships Bill Small would have to install this modification to. He didn’t have time to debate his mission. “The latest and greatest, Captain,” he said as cheerfully as he could. “The manual is only twenty pages thick so it’s easy to learn. Basically, when you throw the switch, it will make your ship invisible to enemy radars. Unfortunately, at the same time it will silence your own communications except for satellite. With this thing on, there’s not a missile that can attack you,” he said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. How much power does it use?” Donner asked.
“Absolutely none. It’s totally passive. I understand it has only come out this past month, but we are putting these things on every ship in the fleet,” said Smalls
“Well, maybe it will look better with a coat of paint,” said Donner, warming up to the idea.
“Oh no sir. You can’t paint it. You leave it exactly as it is when we leave it. Painting will negate its effectiveness. I know it doesn’t look like much, but those are the orders. Any painting will be classified as a SHIPALT. You can’t even tighten the bolts or take it down. Sorry, but that’s the word we got from on high. You’re getting one on the bow, one astern and two on each side. There will be one switch in CIC and another on the bridge to turn it on and off. The instructions will explain the rest,” Smalls said.
It was hard to imagine just a few plates would do what they said, but he actually had no choice. “It’s still damned ugly. It’s not even the right shade of gray,” Donner said.
Smalls chuckled. “They all say that. My understanding is that this is the way it comes out of the oven. I guess we’re just stuck with it,” he said.
Donner nodded. “How long will it take?”
“We’ll be done later today. I’ll test it before I leave,” Smalls said.
That surprised Donner. Test it? He just threw up his hands and gave in to the inevitable. He never understood the techno geeks at NAVSEA anyway.
USS Iowa
Captain Doug Rhodes was up to his ears in paperwork just getting all the people aboard the ship. USS Iowa had recently been used as an emergency platform during the earthquakes and the systems were all up and ready to go. As before, when he commanded the ship during the kidnapping in Venezuela, the veterans had returned. They were bolstered by additional newer faces from when the ship had been in commission just six years before. Many were still there from the earthquake, but some of the vets were getting much older. It would be his duty to ask some of them not to make the trip. At the same time, ten busses of active duty crewmen had arrived to begin their duty aboard, along with another ten of reservists. The Administrative Officer was pulling his hair out.
Commander Russ Sampson was already getting drills set up to get the crewmembers acquainted with the ship and its operation. He had been aboard when the ship was in Korea – the second time. Placing veterans in each division had helped out. Like before, they helped make sure each crewman knew exactly how the ship ran. The publication “Battleship Standards” had already been reprinted and issued.
There was a knock at the cabin door and the Marine stuck his head in and announced the XO. Sampson came through the door. “Fueling will commence tomorrow morning at 0800. I got the Chief Engineer on it. We’ll take on about a million gallons,” he announced.
“Good. I understand we won’t need a weapons onload,” Rhodes said.
“No sir. We have a full complement of five inch and sixteen inch. The only thing we will take on is small arms and the .50 caliber. Seal Beach will bring that by truck. I have ordered the Phalanx to be loaded and brought up to a ready status. If they shoot at us again, we’ll be ready,” Sampson said. He held out a sheet of paper. “Did you see this?”
Rhodes scanned the sheet and his eyebrows flew up. “Transferring to Norfolk. Well, that’s interesting. I thought we would be staying on this coast.”
“I did too, but since we’re in a shooting war, you never can tell. I heard through the grapevine that something is brewing over there. Maybe they want us in on it,” Sampson said.
Rhodes glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. “I actually talked to a friend of mine in the Pentagon. There’s a special force being put together. You know who’s heading it up?”
“Who?”
“Chris Hustvedt.”
“From the Sea of Japan?”
“None other.”
“Oh hell! I want in on that one,” exclaimed Sampson.
“Oh yea. So we need to be ready as we can be. I also got a call from NAVSEA. They are coming out to install new equipment beginning tomorrow. Make sure we are set to help them out. SURFPAC wants us ready to get underway in fifteen days,” said Rhodes.
“Fifteen days! That’s pushing it, but if we can get in on this new thing it will be worth it. I’ll tell the wardroom to plan on some 12 hour days for a while. Duty sections will be at it all night. We’ll get underway on time, Captain,” said Sampson with a grin.
“We better. I’d hate to have to break in a new XO,” Rhodes grinned back.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks. I’ll set up a stores onload two days before we get underway so we will be full up. You need anything?” asked Sampson.
Rhodes shook his head. “I’ll take care of all I need. Let me know when you have the fueling brief.”
“Will do, Captain. I need to get that set up. I’ll let you know if I hear anything more,” Sampson said getting out of his seat.
“I appreciate it,” said Rhodes as he watched the XO leave the cabin. He had actually heard more, but couldn’t share it yet. The plan was for Iowa to be in Norfolk for only three days to refuel, and provision. Then she would be underway to join one of the largest fleets ever assembled and head for the Mediterranean.
The Pentagon
Lt. Rod Jeffers was bone tired. In the three weeks since the war began, he and Hustvedt’s staff had worked mercilessly trying to not only get the final plan complete, but to also assemble the assets to make it work. True, Jeffers couldn’t give those kinds of orders, but working with the staff, the fleet and air units were being brought together and the troops assembled to make it all work. Every day the message center buzzed with new requests for information and to detail orders.
The results were impressive. It involved three carriers, two LHAs, four LHDs, six LPDs, eight LSDs and twenty other transport ships, along with three battleships, four cruisers, fifteen destroyers, six frigates and several submarines. In all there were over 120 ships being assembled – and that was just in the Atlantic and from the American side. Another two carriers, an LHA, two LHDs, four LSDs, a battleship, six more cruisers, ten destroyers five frigates and other support ships were being assembled on the west coast. This would be a two ocean war. With the Kennedy being damaged, it had made the effort much more difficult. Everything was hinged on getting one of the carriers back online. Newport News was doing just that.
Jeffers sat back at his desk and read the latest message traffic that had come into the office just a few minutes before. It was 2010 hours – late in the evening, and he anticipated going home, maybe by 2200. There was a knock at his door. Jeffers looked up to see Vice Admiral Hustvedt standing there with a smile on his face.
“You look like shit,” said Hustvedt.
Jeffers’ face broke into a grin. “Only because I’m up to my ears in it,” he said as he stood.
Hustvedt motioned for him to sit down. He took a seat next to the desk. “Rod, you need to put all this down. For the last three weeks you have been getting home between ten and eleven at night and being back here by six. The Chief of Staff says you have put in the work of ten people. You can’t help me if you kill yourself,” he said.
“I’m okay, Admiral. I just want to make sure this all gets together right. We can’t afford to be left in the lurch once this thing starts,” said Jeffers.
“I know, but this is going very well – largely because of you. I signed the final plan today. Today is Wednes
day. I want you to go home and not come back until Monday. Get a little Christmas time with your family,” Hustvedt said. Before Jeffers could object he raised his hand. “I know, there is still a lot to do, but the plan is sound. We need to move on. I do have others on the staff to get last minute things done, and even I have been known to get a few things done in my career. Rod, take a short break. When you get back we need to get ready to move to Norfolk. By Wednesday we will be aboard the America. In two weeks we will be underway. You have been my right hand man in all of this and I appreciate what you’ve done. You’re going to help me win this war. Then, once this is over, I am going to see to it that you get back to sea like a regular surface line officer. Who knows? Before this war is over, you may have a command of your own.”
Hustvedt reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small box. He stood up. Jeffers stood as well, thinking Hustvedt was about to leave. Instead, Hustvedt reached over to Jeffers and pulled off the lieutenant insignia attached on his working uniform. The box contained the insignia of a lieutenant commander. He placed the insignia on the young man’s collars.
“Rod, everyone from the top on down has been impressed with your work. I sent a special evaluation to the selection board last week. You’ve been deep selected. Now maybe you won’t have so much trouble getting things done,” Hustvedt said with a grin. “Rod, I can see why Roger placed so much faith in you. I’m proud to have you with me.” The look of surprise on Jeffers’ face was gratifying to Hustvedt.
“But I wasn’t due to be up for this for another two years,” Jeffers stammered.
Hustvedt let out a laugh. “Of all the young officers I have served with, you more than deserved it. Rod, just take it and keep going. I’ll see you on Monday,” the Admiral said shaking his hand. As he left the room, the phone on Jeffers’ desk rang. He picked up the receiver.
“Congratulations Rod! I hope when you get over here you can come by and see me,” said Hammond on the other end of the line.
“Admiral Hustvedt just put them on my collars. How did you know?”
“Hey, in my job, I’m supposed to know everything. Didn’t you know that?” joked Hammond.
“Maybe, but I bet you had something to do with this,” Jeffers said.
“Maybe, but it still wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t done your part. You are one hell of an officer, Rod. Keep up the good work,” said Hammond.
“Thanks Roger.”
“Don’t thank me. You deserve it. And when you get over this way, please come see me. It would be nice to sit back and talk a while.”
“Thanks. Thanks for everything,” said Jeffers.
“Take care of yourself, Rod,” said Hammond. There was sincere feeling behind the voice.
“You do the same. I’ll stop by.”
“Good. See you soon then.”
“Good bye Admiral, and thanks again,” said Jeffers.
Jeffers put the receiver down and thought a moment about what was happening. This wasn’t normal. He was just a regular guy trying to do his job. He placed the messages back on the duty officer’s desk and grabbed his coat. As he was about to leave the office and go home, the phone rang again. This time it was another new friend – someone much higher up in government.
Paris
The Élysée Palace was far grander than almost anything Hammond had ever seen. The residence of the President of the French Republic dated back to the early 1700s and had once been the residence of the mistress of King Louis XV. Since that time, it had housed Napoleon and several other aristocrats, finally becoming the presidential residence in the mid-1800s. Valuable paintings and tapestries adorned the walls and rich carpets covered the floors. The ceilings were covered in frescoes and enhanced with gold filigree. The furniture was of a classical design and seemed to glitter in the lights. The chandeliers took your breath away. Unfortunately these things could not be savored simply because of the grave issue Hammond was coming to speak about.
The escort stopped him at two huge gold encrusted doors while he knocked gently and entered the room, announcing the Supreme Allied Commander. Henri Bayard came from his desk in the elegantly appointed Salon Dore and took Hammond’s hand. “Welcome Admiral Hammond. It is good to see you once again,” Bayard said in English.
“Thank you for receiving me,” said Hammond in almost perfect French. Bayard escorted him into the office.
“I was not under the impression you spoke our language,” Bayard said in astonishment.
“I studied it in school when I was young and found I had a passion for it. In my Navy career I was able to visit France on several occasions. It helped me retain it as a second language,” said Hammond.
“Ahh. I understand. It sometimes makes it easier to understand a nation when you can speak the language. Shall we continue in French?” Bayard asked.
Hammond grinned. “If you would like. I will try to keep up. When you don’t use a language every day, it can be difficult,” he said.
Bayard laughed. “Yes, I have the same problem with English,” he said. “Actually, the more I hear of your ideas and your methods, the more I am impressed. I have been looking forward to speaking with you for some time. Yours is a job I would not wish to undertake,” he said. Motioning toward a chair he continued, “I understand you are having some difficulties with General LeMonde,” he said, getting right to the point as he sat down.
Hammond shifted in his seat. He hadn’t expected things to move this quickly. “Mister President, as you said, we have a very difficult task. There is no doubt General LeMonde is loyal and very talented. He works very hard each day to make sure his troops are well prepared and ready for battle. His dedication is totally for France and the French people. I, on the other hand, am trying to oversee the forces of over ten nations. You and the other allied leaders have asked me to bring this group into a cohesive fighting force to defeat a common enemy. To do that, I need everyone to pull together as one. I especially need the help of the French forces to do just that,” Hammond said. His French was slow, but intense.
“And you feel General LeMonde is not measuring up,” Bayard said. He didn’t wait for a reply. “You know that General LeMond is one of France’s most capable generals. We are not in the habit of recalling one of our leaders simply because someone does not agree with them,” he admonished, “however, there is more to this than you may realize. In the months prior to the outbreak of hostilities, General LeMonde was one of the members of my staff trying to seek reconciliation with the Russians. On behalf of our government, he accepted their explanations and their assurances that there was nothing to fear. He personally trusted them. As a matter of fact, so did I. As you know, France had maintained cordial relations with the Russians and Soviets since the war with Germany. We have even had socialist governments along the way,” Bayern lectured. “When the Russians began these hostilities, we both felt total betrayal. We had assumed the Russians would bluster and then back away. This was not the case. It was personally most embarrassing. I must shoulder some of the blame for this. General LeMonde took it as a personal slap. He does not like being proved wrong and sometimes can be somewhat - how do you say, stiff. I, on the other hand must be flexible. One cannot be a politician and not be so,” he chuckled.
“I was not aware of how personally involved you were in all this,” said Hammond, somewhat surprised at the revelation.
Bayard held up his hand. “I know. But now it seems there is more to his situation than mere chance,” he said with a sigh. Bayern leaned forward. “I have heard some things from the front. You are right in one aspect, LeMonde’s dedication to France is unquestionable, but as such, he often forgets that France does not necessarily have to be in charge. We chose you for a reason. Part of that is that we all know that placing someone from Europe in command would bring up old rivalries – some centuries old - which we do not need. His attitude is an example of that. Quite frankly, we wondered who might take the job until you came along. The fact that we are not speakin
g from England or the United States is a testament to your abilities to fight this war. As I see it, the Russians have not moved forward very much since you got here. For someone to take command and get things going that quickly is simply amazing.”
“I appreciate that, Mister President,” said Hammond humbly.
“You also do not need the extra burden of having to deal with people who seem to have difficulties understanding what you need. I recalled General LeMonde last night and placed another general in command of French forces,” said Bayard calmly as he reached to the desk and pressed a button.
“I hope the general is not disgraced by this,” said Hammond.
“No, he will have a job in our defense ministry which he has been wanting for a while. I have replaced him with someone you have worked with,” Bayard said as the door opened and someone entered the room.
Hammond immediately recognized General Gagne, LeMonde’s deputy, resplendent in his formal uniform. He stood and greeted him. “Paul, you are taking over?” he asked. The smile on Hammond’s face told Bayard all he needed to know.
“Yes, Roger. I will step up. You also should know that I am not like LeMonde. I fully understand what you are doing and will do my part,” Gagne said with a grin.
“Good. I can see things have improved already,” said Bayard. “Is there anything else France can do for the Supreme Commander?” he asked with a grin.
