B004V9FYIY EBOK

by Unknown

  Once the wires were attached at both places, winches took tension on the lines and everything was pulled taught. Using the messenger lines, the men of the Iowa then pulled across the fueling probe and the standard underway replenishment fixture or SURF. Using brute strength, the Iowa crewmen pulled the probe across the span wire until it slammed into the fueling probe receiver on the ship and seated itself. When all was ready, thousands of gallons of DFM, or diesel fuel, marine, came pouring through the hoses and probe into the bunkers of the Iowa. At the same time, a trolley began shuttling back and forth along the highline between the ships carrying 5-inch and 16-inch ammunition to replenish what was expended in training. Once the transfers began, the helo also began shuttling back and forth between the ships carrying cargo nets full of food, equipment and materials and depositing them on the Iowa’s fantail. Using hand operated fork trucks sent over with the first loads, work crews immediately began moving the pallets of materials out of the way and then down the hatches into the ship. Ammunition was trucked to the loading hatches for the three turrets where the powder cans and projectiles were lowered into the magazines. The last of the projectiles and powder were lowered into the turret three magazines. The 5-inch ammunition was carried one at a time from the pallets to each 5-inch magazine by a separate working party.

  In all, the Iowa took on 56 rounds of 16-inch ammunition, 340 rounds of 5-inch and 20 tons of food and other supplies. They also took on 380,000 gallons of fuel. The whole evolution took more than four hours. By the end of that time everyone was exhausted. Talking to the CO of the Spica through the sound-powered telephone, Hammond decided not to practice an emergency breakaway but take their time and do the evolution at a slightly slower pace so the new guys could learn. As the last of the pallets was being sent across, Hammond heard some disturbances behind the bridge. Looking aft, he saw several crewmen setting up the last of some musical instruments in a wide walkway. He turned to the XO. “I didn’t know we had a band,” he said with a smile.

  The XO got a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry about that, Captain, these guys got together while we were rebuilding. I told them to be ready for all our unreps and special events.”

  “No problem. This is one area I don’t mind surprises. I hope they’re good.”

  “Not bad at all, Captain,” he said as he turned back to the evolution.

  Over the next few minutes the fueling hose and other gear were released in the reverse order they had been sent over. The last sent back was the tension wire and messengers for cargo. As the tension line was unhooked, the band immediately began to play. It was a mix of older and younger crewmen playing music that was very familiar to Hammond. It took only a few seconds to recognize the old Doobie Brothers song “Rockin’ Down the Highway.” The XO was right. The guys were very good. As the Iowa sped up and began passing the Spica, Hammond looked back at the faces of the band members. They were actually having a lot of fun playing the music. Better yet, the guys still at their unrep stations were clapping and singing along. The tradition of playing music during a breakaway had been going on for many years, though it was usually some kind of recorded music being played over the ship’s public address system. To have a real band out there playing was a novelty. Even the crew of the Spica seemed to enjoy the show.

  USS Iowa made her way to a new station to wait for other ships to replenish. The watch was set and the ship returned to a more routine operation. USS Alabama had taken Iowa’s place alongside Spica. That was when Hammond had the chance to look at all the ships in the force. While replenishing, several more ships had come into view. Several modern frigates and two Ticonderoga Class cruisers had been in the force along with five Charles F. Adams class Guided Missile Destroyers. Hammond remembered the old workhorses of the fleet. The Adams Class DDGs had a reputation of doing more than their share and were still able to get the job done. Although the electronics were older, they were very reliable and the missile magazines could carry up to forty Standard SM-1s.

  The ships that really got his attention were stationed five miles on Iowa’s port side. The first was USS Salem, an 8-inch gun cruiser. Just forward was USS Little Rock, a 6-inch gun cruiser modified in the late 1950s to carry missiles. Although her 6-inch guns were active forward, back aft there was a lot of hustle around what looked like a fist with two arms. Hammond watched as two doors opened up on the aft bulkhead and two huge missiles slid onto the arms of the missile launcher. Talos missiles had been way before his time, but they were impressive nonetheless. They looked like telephone poles and he had heard that they could reach out over 100 miles to hit an incoming aircraft. The things had to be about 30 feet long. Fins along the side of the things were for stabilization. Hammond hoped he would never have to be anywhere near the receiving end of those things.

  Scattered around the ships were destroyers – lots of them. These were not modern vessels that carried missiles and other high tech gear. These too were from out of history. Hammond wondered where they had come from. None of them were from any time after 1960. There were Fletchers, Gearings, Sumners, and a few Forrest Shermans. The one thing they had in common, all carried 5-inch guns as their main armament.

  Checking astern, the outlines of other massive ships were in view now. The closest had a turret arrangement similar to Iowa. But there the familiarity ended. Her bow was blunt and she seemed to muscle her way through the seas instead of slicing through them. She had two stacks but they were narrow and placed farther aft. Hammond could also see where her armor plating ended above the waterline just below the main deck. Like all the other ships, she was painted haze grey and, as she rolled back and forth, he could see the teak decking running from forward of turret one back to the fantail. Men were engaged in a variety of duties around the deck, from swabbing to gun maintenance. At one point a puff of dark smoke came out of the forward stack, but that quickly disappeared as the engineers adjusted the fuel/air mixture in one of her boilers. The seas were relatively calm but occasionally a thin spray of water could be seen lifting into the air at the bow and wetting the forward decks.

  Hammond turned to the OOD. “What battleships are in formation with us? He asked.

  The OOD picked up a piece of paper and walked to the bridge wing with the Captain. “Alabama is with the Spica, and we have the Massachusetts on our port quarter at 30,000 yards. The closest is the North Carolina,” he said pointing to the ship Hammond had been looking at. “The New Jersey and the Wisconsin are out of sight and coming up behind us. I understand from the Operations Officer they won’t be in sight until late this afternoon,” he said.

  They were interrupted by the Junior Officer of the Deck (JOOD). “Sir, we are in the center of our assigned sector. Recommend we come to base course and speed.”

  “Make it so,” the OOD said. Then he turned to the Captain as the young man left, “Sir, I’m coming to the base course of 310 and slowing to 12 knots. That should keep us in our sector. Do you want us to actively patrol the sector or just remain within it?” he asked.

  Hammond nodded. “You were brought up in destroyers. This is what they call a heavy. We don’t patrol, we maintain. It’s up to the others to patrol around us. So just keep in the sector for now,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” came the reply as the OOD went back into the pilot house. As he left, the Supply Officer came onto the bridge wing.

  “Is everybody settled into their quarters, Suppo?” Hammond asked.

  “At least so far, Captain. I decided to put all the enlisted staffers in one of the empty berthing compartments back aft. I have the Chief getting them tucked in. The Chief of Staff was hoping for a larger stateroom, but that’s the only big one we have. He can’t complain much. At least it has a head,” he said with a chuckle. “The rest of the officers are in staterooms on the O-1 level aft. Right now they are putting their personal things away. I have my guys putting the other items in the work spaces on the O-2 level. I understand the Admiral will take formal command tomorrow after everyone finishes
unreping.”

  “How did the Admiral like his cabin?”

  The Supply Officer smiled. “I was surprised he didn’t take yours, but he seems to like his new home. I got him set up and got a mess cook set up to work with your cook in preparing the meals. The staff didn’t bring any food, so we will have to pull from ship’s stores. That’s not any problem. The Disbursing Officer is working with their supply type to get things squared away. By the way, the Admiral asked us to prepare a meal for himself, the Chief of Staff, and you this evening. I didn’t know if you were aware.”

  “He’d mentioned it. Can you let my guy know to help out for a while till they get organized?”

  “Sure thing, Captain. I’d already done that anyway. I also asked him to make you a sandwich for lunch since you hadn’t eaten. You want it in your cabin or on the bridge?”

  “I think I’ll go to my cabin. How about asking the XO to join me? If he hasn’t eaten, the cook can make another sandwich.”

  “Glad to, Captain. I’ll let the cook know. He should be ready shortly.”

  “Good. I’ll check out a couple of things and then come down. Thanks, Emmett, for getting the staffers set up,” Hammond said.

  “My pleasure, Captain,” the Suppo said as he headed back down the ladder.

  Hammond walked over to the navigation table and took a look at the chart. The Iowa’s course was laid out and marked as it should be. Then he walked to the front of the pilot house and looked at the maneuvering board the OOD was using. Iowa was squarely in the center of the sector assigned. The rest of the sectors were mapped out and the positions of the ships inside them. The OOD and the JOOD were on the bridge wing using a stadimeter to get a range on the guide ship. Glancing into the control tower, the helm and lee helm were standing alertly keeping the ship on course and at speed.

  Hammond turned to the OOD, now coming back into the pilot house. “I’m going for a bite in my cabin,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” came the reply.

  Hammond left the bridge and went down two levels to his cabin. The Marine sentry followed him from the bridge and positioned himself at the door when the Captain entered. Two places were set at the long table and the cook was placing a plate with what looked like a roast beef sandwich and some potato salad on each place. A small tray on the table held mustard, relish, and other condiments. “Afternoon, Captain,” the cook said with a grin. “I hope roast beef is okay. I was able to get some meats we can use for sandwiches with this load, so I can fix something quick when we need to.”

  “Good idea, Clark. You’re going to make me fat if you keep this up.”

  “That’s my job, Captain,” he said as he reached through a small opening in the bulkhead and grabbed two iced teas.

  There was a knock at the door and the sentry opened it for the XO to come in. He had a couple of smudges on his khaki uniform where he came in contact with something. “Thanks for the invite, Captain. I thought I was going to have to wait for dinner for something to eat.”

  Hammond ushered the XO to his seat and they both sat down. “You and the crew are doing a bang up job, Brian. I just wanted to tell you that. I really appreciate you keeping me up on everything. It feels like the officers and crew have been aboard for years instead of months. Where the hell did they all come from?” he asked.

  “You know it’s a mystery to me too,” the XO said. “From what I understand, when the city decided to put the ship back in service they contacted the Iowa Veteran’s Association. Within a week there were over fifty guys up here helping out. Within a month there were 300. Most of them are from when the ship was in commission in the 80s. When I got here, they had pulled out that Battleship Standards book and people were quoting it chapter and verse. It was a kind of guide they used. It was good for me. I was the rookie and they had all the experience. A few of them took me by the hand and we got things going. These guys seemed to know where everything was and how it worked. I suggested they form a sort of school for the new guys to get them oriented. They set it up. Now when a new guy comes in, he spends at least a week with one of the older guys to learn the ship and all the procedures,” he said.

  “That explains some of it,” Hammond said. “But I also like the way you are training the JOs. That unrep was almost perfect.”

  “Martinez is a good one. He pays attention and seems to have the feel of the ship. I took the JOs out on an old torpedo retriever at the shipyard one day to do a little training and see what these guys had. Martinez was one of the better ones. But I want to put all the guys through these evolutions before we get over there if I can,” the XO said.

  Hammond could tell he was serious when it came to training and anything else that had to do with the ship’s operations. Davis seemed to have a lot of drive and focus with an easygoing way about him that seemed to beg respect. Hammond decided he needed to send the detailers a gift for sending Davis to the ship. “You were CO on the Nicholson weren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Two years, then some staff duty. I actually missed her until I came aboard this ship.”

  Hammond smiled through the bit of his sandwich. “Yeah, she has her way doesn’t she?”

  “It was like I could feel it when I stepped aboard. Some of the older guys bring it home, especially Boats. He was the one that brought you to the ship.”

  “From what I see, he’s a real character.”

  “You should hear him when somebody screws up. He has a mouth that would embarrass a hooker. Between him, the Navigator, and a couple of the Chiefs, they could peel the paint off half the ship,” the XO laughed. “And since tomorrow is Sunday, he has already made plans.”

  “What kind of plans?” the Captain asked warily.

  “I asked the same question, but the First Lieutenant says it’s needed and he’s already set up the working parties. I’m planning on taking pictures,” he said. “It won’t happen until after lunch tomorrow and then will take about three hours. It needs to be done to clean the decks. The band will be playing for this one, too,” the XO said cryptically.

  “Okay, come on, give me the skinny,” Hammond said with a grin. The XO’s humor was infectious.

  “Time honored tradition, Captain. It involves holystones,” he said.

  At first Hammond wasn’t sure what he meant, and then he remembered his history and the smile spread on his face. “You’re right Brian. A time honored tradition. I’m looking forward to it myself.”

  Cape Canaveral, Florida

  “Three – two – one…” the countdown ended as a gout of flame erupted from the end of the venerable Titan III rocket as it lifted gently from its launch pad and began to move swiftly down range. The technicians at the Cape watched anxiously to make sure everything went perfectly and the precious cargo was carried as planned. As planned, the first stage separated and the second continued to shove its payload faster and higher to achieving orbit. Then a much smaller third stage ignited sending the satellite even further above the Earth until it was a few thousand miles up in a stationary orbit.

  On cue, photovoltaic panels unfolded to their full length and the large communications satellite realigned itself so that its receivers were aligned with the Western Pacific and its transmitters pointed both toward the Pacific and to another satellite that had been launched earlier in the morning. In the Pentagon, a signal was received indicating the circuit was now complete. Smiles broke out around the communications center and a few of the technicians shook hands.

  General Ryan Bradley grinned at the people in the room. “OK, gents, we now have secure comms with the Pacific. I want them quiet until D-Day, then burn up the sky,” he said. Bradley picked up a telephone and dialed a number. “Mister President, this is General Bradley. The birds are up and waiting, sir,” he said.

  Pyongyang, North Korea

  “What other materials may we assist you with, Comrade?” asked the People’s Republic’s Ambassador to North Korea.

  “We believe that is all we currently need, Comrade Amb
assador. My government wishes to express its deepest appreciation for everything you have been able to help us with over the past few months. We anticipate a total victory in a short period of time, unifying our divided nation and adding another star to our Communist brotherhood,” said Huo Tiem, a high ranking official with the Secretariat.

  “The People’s Republic stands ready to help any aligned nation. As our neighbors, you are always welcome. I believe my assistant also has some business after we have concluded, so I shall return to our embassy,” the ambassador said as he stood. The men shook hands and the primary parties left the room. Only counterparts remained.

  After the doors were closed, two men faced each other across the table. “My government wishes to share with you some information it has received regarding the Americans and your soon to be countrymen,” said So Yuan, an intelligence officer from the People’s Republic. He handed over a folder with some papers inside.

  “In addition to our regular intelligence assessment, we have received some interesting information. It appears that a number of ships from the Hyundai Corporation have become disenfranchised with the Americans. They have been sneaking their ships out of American waters and have begun making their way back to their homeports on the peninsula. One of our contacts found out and sent us this information. The ships do not have operating radio equipment and from what we understand they are loaded with their automobiles. My superiors believe they should arrive back in their homeports by the end of the month.”

  “And why should we be interested in these ships?” asked the Korean intelligence officer.

  “My government believes this is a significant political event. These crews have decided that the American political system is incompatible with their needs and have embraced your political system. This can act as a political endorsement of your government. More than that, these people can be used as heroic examples of the new government of Korea – a political system in which people actively wish to participate. My superiors are providing this information so that your government can use it to the maximum effect,” he said.