Vengeance: Hatred and Honor

by Brett Ashton

  I got up and looked aft, deciding to look at the fourth torpedo wake to see if it would miss. The forward smokestack began to belch out steam, which was usually symptomatic of a boiler in the fire room flooding, which blocked my view of the aft parts of the ship. I couldn’t follow the track of the torpedo all the way, but it looked like it had passed very near the ship and, thank God, missed.

  Now, I have to say that any torpedo is more powerful than you would want to be around when it goes off, but these ones seemed milder than the one that struck the North Carolina earlier in the war. I thought at the time maybe the Japanese were using up stocks of older, less powerful torpedoes than they had been using earlier on. The Japanese supply lines had been disrupted very badly at that time, and maybe they had been having troubles building newer models and were forced to use older prewar versions. After the Japanese surrendered, it was discovered from their records this was exactly what had occurred. And that fact alone may have saved the Buffalo.

  The next thing in the order of combat I had to do was to try and present as small of a target to the enemy as possible while at the same time, widening the distance. “Continue port turn to heading one zero five,” I told the helm. This would leave our propellers toward them but would widen the distance and lower our profile to them, leaving less of a target.

  “All stations report!” I said to the talker on the bridge. Most of the ship would be at battle stations by then, and I needed to know how badly we had been hit.

  “Signal, alert the rest of the task force that the torpedoes came from bearing two eight five relative to our current position,” I told the signalman, hoping the destroyers would be able to find the submarine and at least keep it busy, if not sink it. We were turning to the exact correct heading for them to fire another shot at us and destroy our propulsion systems, but we needed to open the distance between us as fast as we could. And I was betting the sub that fired those torpedoes was going to go deep and silent and try to slip away rather than fight three destroyers.

  As the Buffalo continued its turn, I began to notice she was slowing slightly. “Were we losing propulsion?” I wondered to myself.

  As the ship came out of her port turn, she didn’t settle back to an even keel. There was definitely a starboard list, only a few degrees but probably increasing. I could already tell my ship was wounded, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. I got out the list of stations that I used to mark off as they reported “ready” for general quarters. Then I got out a diagram I hoped I would never have to use; it was an inboard profile of the ship that I would use to keep track of the damaged systems and areas of the ship. I listened as the bridge talker told me the stations that were reporting.

  The reports came in slowly at first, not at all with the “snap and pop” that would be normal for the crew. I could tell large portions of them were disoriented, which again gave me some hints on the condition of the ship.

  The areas above decks reported first, then below decks aft. No reports came in from forward below decks, damage control central, the forward main guns, or any of the engine rooms. I began to count the systems in those areas of the ship as being off line in my mind at that point. Even though we were still moving, and thus did have some engine power, I didn’t know how long it would last. If I can’t communicate with them, I can’t use them effectively.

  The one that bothered me the most was damage control central. It was going to take a coordinated effort to keep the Buffalo swimming, and on a damaged ship, they are the nerve center that makes that effort work. In a life-and-death situation, information is everything, and that’s where it was supposed to come from.

  Just then, Rear Admiral Parkhurst appeared on the bridge. Everybody, myself included, was so busy at their stations doing their jobs that nobody noticed him come in.

  “Captain, report,” I heard his voice say behind me.

  Glancing up quickly, I saw him standing next to me in battle gear, life preserver, and everything. He looked a little nervous, and I could tell right away this was his first combat.

  “Nothing to report yet, sir, except two torpedo hits, which I’m sure you heard; other than that, we are very busy trying to figure out what is going on.” I didn’t want to deal with him at that moment; the captain’s duty is to his ship, and at that time, the admiral seemed to be in relatively good condition.

  I very badly needed a damage report. The starboard list was increasing rapidly.

  “Runners to the bridge,” I said to the talker. I had prepared for the possibility that, during combat, some parts of the ship might not have communications. Our situation didn’t look good, and reports were coming in much slower. A lot of the areas from the forward part of the ship had not reported yet, and I should have heard from the engine areas and damage control by then.

  “Captain, I want a report of what is going on,” the admiral said.

  “I don’t have anything more to report to you at this time, sir; we are assessing the situation as rapidly as we can,” I told him as the first of my trained runners reported. “I need a report from damage control central. Anything you can tell me. Go!”

  I looked out at the ocean. We were going much slower, and the list to starboard was still increasing. “Damn!” I thought. “I need more information to act on.” The second runner reported in. “Find out what’s going on in the forward fire room and engine room. Go!” I told him.

  The admiral continued to fidget.

  The third runner reported in. “Find out what is going on in the aft fire and engine room. Go!” I told him.

  “Sir,” I said turning toward the admiral, “we have three destroyers with us in the task force. I propose that we have the two closest to where the torpedoes came from continue to hunt the Nip submarine and the third to pull in close to us and prepare for possible towing if we lose propulsion, or rescue if we have to abandon ship.”

  “Do you think we will have to abandon, captain?” the admiral asked. I couldn’t help but notice the trembling in his voice.

  Then I knew for sure he was going to lose his nerve to some larger degree. He was as white as a ghost.

  “I don’t know that yet, sir,” I replied. “I still haven’t gotten reports from damage control or engineering.”

  Just then, the talker notified me that the aft engineering had reported in. There were several injuries because one of the high pressure steam lines ruptured and was leaking. It would have to be shut down for at least several hours for repair soon, but for now, they could still maintain some power.

  That explained why the ship was still moving, albeit much slower, but there was still nothing from the forward engine room. I began to guess at that time that the forward engine room was gone.

  “Captain,” the admiral said again, “do you think we will have to abandon?”

  “I really don’t know at this time, admiral, but what I do need to know is, can we order the destroyers to cover us as I proposed?”

  “Yes, proceed,” he replied.

  “Signal, radio the destroyer Lawe; tell them to pull alongside and prepare for possible tow or rescue operations. Contact the Fletcher and the Barton and tell them to continue with the hunt for the Jap sub. Admiral’s orders.”

  I turned to the bridge talker at that point and told him, “Tell the gun boss I want all watches to look for periscopes and not to hesitate opening fire on any submarine that surfaces. If they stick their heads up, blow them off.”

  “Yes sir!” he replied.

  “And get the pilots of the Kingfishers up here on the double,” I added.

  Several minutes had gone by when the talker told me the forward main guns had reported in. The upper parts of the guns were manned and ready, but the lower decks of the turrets and mezzanines were slowly flooding. There were also reports of fuel oil leaking into the forward magazines.

  “Flood the power rooms and ammunition areas of the number one and number two main guns on the starboard side now!” I told him. “And after that, evacuate the fo
rward main guns and reassign any crew to damage control.” We did not want a fire down there. If something touched off the powder in the magazines, it would blow the ship in half.

  About then, the first runner returned to the bridge. He had the rest of the badly needed reports from the missing areas all at once from the damage control officer.

  Damage control central was flooding, and Lieutenant Commander Schuller was injured by a piece of debris from one of the explosions. The injury was not very bad, so he was still on duty. That was why damage control was so slow reporting. They had begun to set up operations in a compartment on the next deck above their normal compartment and had to recoordinate all of their efforts from there.

  The forward fire room was a total loss and flooded within seconds of the second torpedo hit, which struck the ship at about frame sixty-two. Only two of the crew got out alive, and they were badly burned. The forward engine room was flooding by a ruptured bulkhead at frame sixty-nine, separating it from the flooded fire room. Efforts were continuing to stop the flooding, but the chances didn’t look good. The forward engine room compartment could be expected to be flooded within about twenty minutes.

  Several of the superheated steam lines were ruptured in the aft fire room and would need to be shut down within the next three hours, at best guess, to repair. Estimated repair time was about six hours.

  The first torpedo struck the ship at frame thirty-two. The ship’s list at the time was about fifteen degrees starboard and counter flooding had begun aft and port to try to correct the list. The ship was riding down by the bow with about eight feet of freeboard left (normally, it was about twice that much) on the starboard side.

  The lower decks of turrets one and two were flooding. The ammunition magazines were being deliberately flooded, as ordered, to prevent the possibility of fires from fuel oil touching off the powder in the magazines.

  The only problem was that twenty-one crewmen were trapped forward of the number one mezzanine by the flooding to prevent fire in the ammunition rooms. The sound-powered phone circuit to the compartment they were trapped in was still operational, and they were in no immediate danger, but they were trapped. Damage control was attempting to pump out the compartments around them and rescue them, but several leaks from damaged pipes and fittings, as well as hatches, still needed to be found and plugged before the compartments could be dewatered.

  Large areas of the forward half of the ship were losing buoyancy, and damage control was still trying to slow the flooding. Several critical hatches had not been closed when the torpedoes struck, and to make matters worse, several had been damaged by the explosion and were leaking because they no longer fit properly. “At best case, we can expect the ship to settle to within several feet of freeboard forward on the starboard side, if we can keep the bow above the water at all,” he reported.

  Operational systems included electrical power, aft propulsion at about eighty percent and decreasing as time went on, most ship’s communications on line, although damage control was still being rerouted, and all secondary batteries on line as well as all anti-aircraft guns. The fire mains were fully functional, steering was normal, and the aft main batteries were still on line.

  So the rapid assessment was that we still had most of our teeth but would soon not be able to move. All of that would be okay, relatively speaking, as long as we were able to remain above the water. The forward part of the ship was sinking fast, with twenty-one of the crew trapped forward because of my order to flood the powder rooms. And the enemy submarine was still out there, and for all I knew, with some of his friends.

  I told two of the runners to set up a rotation between them. They were to shadow the damage control officer and give me updates every ten minutes. I told the first runner to tell Lieutenant Commander Schuller I wanted the best case he just gave me to happen as an order. We were not going to let the Buffalo sink under any circumstances.

  “Report, captain,” the admiral said, reminding me he was still there.

  I handed the admiral the report and watched his expression as he read it. When you watch people closely enough, you can tell what they are going to do. This man was nervous. He had never seen combat. He had never lost a ship or crewmates. And he was afraid. I saw it in his eyes: he was going to run.

  I turned to the talker and ordered him to “Get Major Johnson and the XO up here now.”

  About the time the admiral finished the report, the two float plane pilots appeared on the bridge.

  “Captain, we have to abandon ship.” The admiral had said exactly what I had predicted.

  Being unwilling to give up my new ship to the Japs as well as needing to stall for time, I ignored him and turned to the pilots.

  “I want you two to work out a rotational schedule to keep this ship covered from the air. There may be more submarines in the area, and you need to keep an eye out for them as well, but your primary mission is to help the destroyers find the submarine that attacked us. We can’t get up enough speed to use the catapults, so you will have to have the crane operators put your aircraft down in the water, and you can take off from there.”

  We spent another minute or two working out the details when the admiral decided he had had enough.

  “Captain, you will not ignore me anymore. I order you to abandon ship now.”

  The major arrived just in time to hear what the admiral said. If he was shocked by it his expression didn’t show.

  “Yes, captain,” he said.

  “Standby, major,” I replied, knowing full well he would listen to the discussion between the admiral and me.

  “Admiral, we are not going to abandon this ship,” I said, looking him dead in the eye.

  “Maybe you didn’t understand my order, captain,” he replied more firmly.

  “I understand you perfectly, sir, but I maintain the Buffalo will not be abandoned until all hope is gone.”

  “Damn it, captain!” he said “You’ve seen the damage report. This ship may be sinking, and an enemy submarine could be stalking us right now. This is not safe water to be in with a damaged ship. Navy policy is to scuttle the ship and get the crew off and leave the area.”

  “Admiral, we have men trapped below decks, and I will not abandon them, as a minimum, until we have tried everything we can to save them and keep this ship afloat.”

  “Those men are acceptable losses, captain!”

  I was not at all ready to hear that. I raised my voice high above the rest of the noise on the bridge and shouted, “They are not acceptable losses to their families or the rest of this crew sir, and neither would you be!”

  The admiral recoiled slightly and paused, thinking for a moment. I could see he was going to back down if I gave him a way out.

  Commander Thompson appeared on the bridge at this time and quickly perceived something was not going well between me and the admiral.

  “Are you waiting for the enemy sub to come around and finish us off?” the admiral shouted back.

  “God damn it, admiral! I am not going to lose another ship to those slant-eyed sons of bitches!”

  “This is a career decision, captain! The regulations state that during circumstances like this, a ship may be ordered abandoned.”

  “According to the regulations, the safety of this ship and its crew are my responsibility alone!” I told him, giving him, the opening I hoped he would take.

  “Damn, Williams,” the admiral said with a look of resignation on his face, “Halsey was right about you. You do have guts.”

  He paused for a moment, pointed his finger at me, then continued. “Very well, captain. You try to save your ship if you can. But know this: if this ship sinks, you better go down with it, or I am going to personally hang your ass from the highest mast I can find.”

  “XO,” I said, “the admiral and his staff will be transferring to the Lawe at the soonest possible time. I also want you to prepare a list of personnel that may not be needed, given our current circumstances, in case we need to off
load them as well. Damage control, gunners for the guns that are still functioning in case we run into a fight, medical personnel, and a skeleton crew for engineering must remain on board.”

  “Yes, sir,” the commander said and was off, with the admiral trailing him.

  I noticed at that time the entire crew of the bridge had stopped their work and were silently staring at me. The major was looking at me, smiling slightly (which was rare for him), and nodding.

  “Thank you major; your services are not required at this time,” I said, turning to him.

  “Very well, sir,” the major replied, and was gone.

  “Alright men, come on, we have a lot of work to do,” I said and sat back down in my chair.

  One of the runners returned at that time and reported to me the bow was down to three feet of freeboard on the starboard side. The flooding was slowing, but the bow was still sinking, and the list was now passing twenty five degrees. All voids usable for counter flooding, aft and port, were filled to capacity. It didn’t look like it would be possible to keep the starboard bow above water using any conventional methods.

  “Tell him he has permission to flood other non-combat related compartments aft and port if needed to stabilize the ship. He can even flood the hangar area if he has to, but only as a last resort because we don’t want to take on too much free water in case of heavy seas.”

  “Also tell him,” I continued, “I am going to give the engine room the chance to make their repairs on the engines starting now. Be prepared to rig for tow as soon as the Lawe is along side of us.”

  I told the talker to inform the engine room that it was time for them to start their repairs, and I wanted to know when we would be able to have propulsion again.

  The sun would be setting in about four hours, and it was dangerous to sit still in the water for that time, so we would have to be prepared to have the Lawe tow us for awhile.