Sandtiger wasn’t out of danger yet, not by a long shot. Holding the funeral now was a risky move. So was holding Tanaka’s execution at dawn. But the crew had lost more than they’d won and needed this closure. They’d given their all, and would be asked to give far more by the end of the patrol.
Charlie mounted to the bridge under a sea of stars scarcely visible through the cold thinning fog. Lights glimmered in the distance, Russian trading ships plodding toward Vladivostok. The AA guns stood manned and ready to fire.
Percy, Liebold, and Nixon joined him on the bridge. They watched the crew file out under a doubled lookout detail perched on the shears. Some limped, others wore bandages, a few carried their arms in slings. They all looked grim.
Then three bodies. The Japanese merchant marine Ando Eiji, a casualty of Tanaka’s private war. Electrician’s mate Zack Tyson, whom everybody called Granny due to his many years in the submarines; he’d died of electrocution while restoring power to the forward section of the boat.
And Captain Moreau, sewn up like the others in a sailcloth burial shroud.
The crew stood at parade rest while the burial detail carried Moreau’s body to a waiting stand. The big captain’s feet protruded overboard. The sailors draped the Stars and Stripes over him.
Charlie said, “Unto Almighty God, we commend the soul of Lt. Commander Gilbert Jerome Moreau. Captain of the Sandtiger. The best of the best. Thanks to men like him, we’ll see an end to this war.”
He nodded to Nixon, who bawled, “Firing party. Present arms!”
A line of sailors stiffened, Garand carbines held in front of their chests. The burial detail tilted the stand. The Stars and Stripes waved as Captain Moreau slid into the sea with a splash.
“Fire!”
The guns crashed as one. Again. Then a third time.
After the new two burials, Charlie dismissed the men. The firing party stayed behind with their Garands. The officers remained on the bridge.
Smokey brought out Lieutenant Tanaka and positioned him on the deck. “Do you want a blindfold?”
“No. I want to see my homeland.”
“Suit yourself.”
Charlie said, “Jack, give this to him.”
Liebold stared at him, puzzled. Then shrugged. He descended to the deck and gave the wadded-up ball of paper to the Japanese officer. Covered in oil, the handwriting illegible, reduced to rags.
Tanaka looked up and smiled. Charlie nodded.
The sun peered over the eastern edge of the Sea of Okhotsk. Beams of light spread into the darkness. Tanaka’s last view of the Rising Sun.
The lieutenant turned and squinted into the darkness to the south. Out there, Hokkaido, just a black smudge on a dark gray horizon. His homeland.
“It’s time,” Smokey said.
“It is time,” Tanaka agreed.
“Any last words?”
“I did my duty. Now you must do yours.”
“More than a duty, gook. A pleasure.” Smokey called out, “Ready!”
The sailors readied their carbines. All of them volunteers for the firing squad.
“Aim!”
Tanaka turned away from Japan and gazed again at the rising sun.
“Fire!”
The pop of the carbines filled the air. Tanaka slumped to the deck in a puff of smoke.
Moreau’s death, avenged at last.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
HOMEWARD BOUND
Land ho!
Sandtiger plowed the waters west of Oahu under a clear blue Pacific sky. Charlie stood on the bridge, eyes glued to the sliver of land on the horizon.
His officers grinned at the sight. Almost home.
“I hope they got our messages,” Percy said. He’d repaired the radio, but while it could send, it couldn’t receive.
Liebold said, “It’d be pretty sad to survive all that only to be sunk by one of our own planes with a trigger-happy pilot.”
Charlie lowered his binoculars. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
He glanced at them with pride. Liebold, the genius who’d rigged the torpedoes and given Charlie accurate gyro settings under pressure. Percy, who’d taught him the value of letting go. Nixon, socially inept but unflappable in combat. And Smokey, the veteran who never rested and held the crew together.
At Pearl, the boat would receive more repairs. The crew would enjoy a few weeks of hard-earned rest. Then boat and crew would fuse again. Return to the war against a stubborn enemy that refused to give up.
A band would be playing on the dock. Apples, ice cream, and mail for the returning heroes. Captain Cooper would be waiting to receive Charlie’s report, and what a tale he’d hear. Sandtiger had accomplished the impossible. Still, with everything they’d lost, it didn’t feel quite like victory.
“Smokey,” he said. “It’s time to raise the colors.”
“Aye, aye.”
“And Smokey? Have a man bring up a broom.”
The quartermaster grinned. “Will do, Mr. Harrison.”
Sandtiger was returning with fresh patches on her battle flag and all torpedoes spent. It was custom to tie a broom to the shears, indicating a clean sweep. She deserved the honor. Six ships sunk, 31,000 tons.
He hoped she’d receive a unit citation.
The sailors hoisted the Stars and Stripes. Then the battle flag with its brand new patches. Two transports, three destroyers, one submarine.
After that, the Jolly Roger.
Another look through his binoculars. Oahu larger now. Weeks of peace and quiet. Charlie smiled at the prospect of a long hot bath. A hot meal. An hour or two practicing the harp. Then a full night of uninterrupted sleep in a soft bed.
No Evie or Jane waiting for him this time. While peaceful, the next few weeks promised to be long and lonely.
Smokey interrupted his thoughts. “Problem below, Mr. Harrison.”
“What is it?”
“The starboard engine.”
“Very well,” Charlie growled. “Nixon, you’d better come too.”
He went below and followed the quartermaster aft.
The crew roared at his arrival in the mess hall. Forty bearded sailors in blue shirts and dungarees. Charlie took it all in, stunned by the display. The quartermaster patted his shoulder.
Spike belted out, “For he’s a jolly good fellow!”
The crew joined in. The cook brought out a massive cake. Between chocolate frosting landmasses, Sandtiger ran a vanilla strait to freedom.
The men finished to loud cheering.
Spike grinned at him. “You did right by the captain, Mr. Harrison, and you did right by us. We just wanted to say thanks for bringing us through.”
Charlie stammered as the men cheered again. He didn’t know what to say. “This is … I’m proud …” He shook his head and smiled. “Thanks a lot, fellas.”
He cut the cake, and the cook served pieces all around. The men dug in. Nixon handed him a big piece and a fork. Charlie took a bite. It was delicious.
Smokey patted his shoulder again. “Told you you’d make out all right.”
Charlie just nodded. He didn’t have the words.
The yeoman approached. “Mr. Liebold says he spotted a PC boat on the starboard bow, flashing recognition signals.”
“Thanks, Yeo.” He took another bite and set down his cake. “Duty calls.”
Charlie mounted to the bridge.
Leaning on the gunwale, Percy winked at him. “Fix that engine, did you?”
“It’s never run better.”
The communications officer beamed at Oahu. “Don’t know about you, but the minute I get back, I’m going to get my kicks in a way that would put Caligula to shame.”
Liebold said, “Permission to bring her into the harbor, Exec?”
“Sure, Jack.” He’d certainly earned it.
Sandtiger cruised into the channel. The excited crew boiled out of the submarine and crowded the deck.
Charlie was happy too, but for different reasons.
In his last two war patrols, he’d returned to medals and promotions. This time out, he’d earned something worth a whole lot more. The respect of the crew.
He was a submariner now, though and through. He’d finally arrived.
Soon, Sandtiger would be home. As for Charlie, he was already there.
WANT MORE?
If you enjoyed Battle Stations, get ready for the next book in the series, Hara-Kiri, scheduled for publication in early 2017. In this episode, Charlie takes command of Sandtiger and doggedly takes the fight to the enemy—culminating in the decisive Battle of the Philippine Sea.
Sign up for Craig’s mailing list here to stay up to date on new releases. When you sign up, you’ll receive a link to Craig’s interactive submarine adventure, Fire One. This story puts you in command of your own submarine, matching wits with a Japanese skipper …
Learn more about Craig’s writing at www.CraigDiLouie.com. Craig welcomes your correspondence at [email protected].
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Craig DiLouie is an author of popular thriller, apocalyptic/horror, and sci-fi/fantasy fiction.
In hundreds of reviews, Craig’s novels have been praised for their strong characters, action, and gritty realism. Each book promises an exciting experience with people you’ll care about in a world that feels real.
These works have been nominated for major literary awards such as the Bram Stoker Award and Audie Award, translated into multiple languages, and optioned for film. He is a member of the Horror Writers Association, International Thriller Writers, and Imaginative Fiction Writers Association.
Learn more about Craig’s writing at www.CraigDiLouie.com. Sign up for Craig’s mailing list to be the first to learn about his new releases here.
Other books by Craig:
Suffer the Children
The Retreat, Episode #1: Pandemic
The Retreat, Episode #2: Slaughterhouse
The Retreat, Episode #3: Die Laughing
The Retreat, Episode #4: Alamo
The Alchemists
The Infection
The Killing Floor
Children of God
Tooth and Nail
The Great Planet Robbery
Paranoia
Battle Stations: a novel of the Pacific War (Crash Dive Book 3) Page 16
