The tension in the wardroom was almost painful. All eyes were glued to the table in front of them, as if to avoid looking at the scene of a car accident. Bradley had just crossed a bright line and violated a rule, both written and unwritten: never confront a commanding officer in public.
Navy regulations are written partially based on common sense. An executive officer is expected to voice any disagreement in strict privacy. In public he is expected to observe his role as second in command, not first. His job is to assist the captain in accomplishing the mission, and that includes showing physical and emotional deference to his commanding officer. Military people not only expect the process to work this way, they respect it. It's the way the system works. Military life is based on a chain of command. If one link in that chain is broken, as the analogy goes, the chain is weakened. When a chain is weakened, a ship can go adrift.
Captain Patterson had to think fast and act decisively. She couldn't ignore what Bradley said, nor could she ignore the negative dynamic that he created. There was a disturbance in the force and she had to undo it. Bradley had violated a cardinal military rule, and she knew that every officer in the room was on her side, for now.
"Commander," the Captain said, "we've all been under a tremendous amount of stress over the last day, and I'm sure that's includes you. I'm going to overlook your confrontational statement and scratch it off as an unintended response to the strange situation we're in." She then went in for the scoring shot. "Tomorrow at 0900 we will have a ceremony here in the wardroom, and Seaman John Thurber will be sworn in as Lieutenant Junior Grade Thurber. You, Commander Bradley, will perform the ceremony."
Bradley realized that he was boxed into a corner. He had just been given a direct order. Cross that line, and he may as well pack his bags. He simply said, "Aye aye, Captain."
One thought passed through the minds of every officer present, except for Bradley, "Go girl!" They realized that Captain Patterson had just righted a major wrong, and they were behind her. Even if Bradley had a good point, and a few thought he did, he violated a sacred military code to make it.
The next morning at 0430 the Battle of Fort Sumter would begin, and the Civil War would be on.
Ashley Patterson realized, as did the officers in the wardroom, that another battle had just begun.
Chapter 11
General P.G.T. Beauregard had taken over command of the Confederate forces of South Carolina in March,1861, making him the first general officer of the new Confederacy. Three months earlier, in December,1860, South Carolina had issued an ordinance of secession, and was followed by six more Southern states in February,1861. Beauregard would soon order a siege of the Union garrison at Fort Sumter, the plans for which were well underway.
Beauregard had a concern. He heard reports over the day about a gigantic Gray Ship plying the waters off Charleston. He called for his assistant, Major Ezekiel Townsend, and asked for a full report about the sightings.
Townsend went to the harborfront to find as much as he could about sightings of the Gray Ship. What he heard amazed him. He learned of no fewer than 15 sightings of the strange vessel. One man, the captain of a gun ship, told Townsend that he tried to follow the Gray Ship, but it was too fast. He described an array of odd shaped objects (guided missiles) as well as large deck guns. His gun boat was 45 feet in length. He estimated the Gray Ship's length at least 15 times longer. He also noted that there were no visible smoke stacks and that the ship didn't let out any smoke at all. On the rear deck was a large machine of some sort that had long planks attached to its top (an Apache attack helicopter). He couldn't make out the name on the vessel's stern, but it had large painted numbers on the bow which was easily read as "36." Tall poles of some sort (antennae) were positioned all over the ship.
Townsend reported back to General Beauregard with his findings, especially the details provided by the gunship captain. "Fifteen times the length of a gunship?" Beauregard said. "Did this ship show any hostile intent to anyone sighting it?"
"No, General, but we just don't have enough information to figure out how much armament she has. All we know is that she's big, fast, and is covered with strange looking machines."
Beauregard wrote a message to Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy. He wanted Davis to know that the Yankees seem to have come up with an amazing new warship.
The bombardment of Fort Sumter would begin early the next morning. Beauregard decided not to wait for a reply from Davis, but resolved to go ahead with the plans and ignore the Gray Ship. He wondered how long the ship could be ignored.
Chapter 12
Wars often begin with a great battle. The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, with over 3,000 lives lost, is a perfect example. Fort Sumter was not a great battle in a military sense, but its impact on history was profound.
In December 1860, five months before the bombardment, a Union Major, Robert Anderson, moved his command from nearby Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter, a well fortified structure. General Beauregard, the Confederate commanding officer, systematically beefed up his gun batteries aimed at Fort Sumter. The SEAL recon team had seen evidence of this with large artillery caissons being wheeled toward the harborfront.
The new President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, sent a message to the Governor of South Carolina, advising him that a ship would be dispatched to replenish the dwindling supplies at Fort Sumter. The result was an ultimatum from the Confederacy to abandon the fort. Major Anderson refused. The resupply ship was blocked, and Fort Sumter never got its replenishment.
At 0430 on the morning of April 12, 1861 Beauregard's guns opened fire on Fort Sumter.
***
On the USS California, Captain Ashley Patterson checked her watch. At exactly 0430 she heard the first cannon volley. This isn't Gone with the Wind she thought. This is happening. She observed the action through a powerful telescope equipped with a night vision lens. She glanced at Ivan Campbell, the ship's navigator, who stood next to her. Neither officer spoke. People often feel a sense of elation when a prediction comes true. The two officers didn't feel elated. They were watching a grim confirmation of their strange new reality.
The bombardment lasted 34 hours until April 14, when Major Anderson, outmanned, outgunned, and short on supplies, agreed to abandon the fort. There were no casualties on either side as a direct result of the engagement. Two Union troops were killed when a gun exploded, ironically, during the surrender ceremony.
The Civil War had begun.
Ashley Patterson had a simple disturbing thought. Now what?
Chapter 13
After breakfast in the wardroom, promptly at 0900, Captain Patterson called everyone to stand. Seaman John Thurber entered the room. As ordered, he wore an officer's khaki uniform, without any insignia on his lapels. Ashley turned to the Bradley and said: "Commander Bradley, please conduct the commissioning ceremony."
In a dry, desultory voice, Bradley read the oath of a commissioned officer in the United States Armed Forces. Ashley pinned Thurber's new bars on his uniform. Lieutenant Thurber saluted Ashley and she returned the salute. There was polite applause.
"Would you like to say a couple of words, Lieutenant?" said Captain Patterson.
Lieutenant Jack said, "Thank you ladies and gentlemen, and thank you Captain Patterson for acknowledging my vast military experience with this promotion." That brought a hearty laugh from all present, except Bradley.
"Lieutenant Thurber you will be assigned to the Communications Department. You will answer directly to Lt. Commander John White. "
"Aye aye, Captain," said the ship's newest officer.
Bradley raged in silence. With this guy's background, he thought, he should be assigned to me. As XO, I'm the ship's chief administrative officer. The Navy's darling gets her way again.
***
Ashley changed the subject. "We're going to head north. Because we're now at war, as strange as that may sound, we need to make contact with the Union government. The history boo
ks tell us that a man named Gideon Wells is the Secretary of the Navy, which was a cabinet position in 1861. He's the man we need to see. After all, he's our boss. Father Rick, our Civil War maven, tells me that Wells was a friend and confidant of Abraham Lincoln."
"How will we arrange a meeting Captain?" asked Ivan Campbell.
Ashley said, "I'm going to send a delegation to simply walk into the Navy department and ask to see Wells. The leader of our delegation will introduce the group as representatives of the Gray Ship. That should open doors."
"Ivan, you'll lead the delegation," Ashley said. “Take Father Rick and Lt. Thurber with you. We need to show Secretary Wells that we know something about history - not to mention time travel. Your objective will be to invite the secretary to visit the California."
Bradley seethed. I should lead that delegation, he thought.
Chapter 14
The Executive Officer sat alone in his office sipping coffee. Things are starting to look clear, he thought. We're going to make contact with the Union high command and we'll be thrown into battle against the South. Like many on the ship, he had been reading up on the Civil War, and he knew what was coming. In July, about three months from now, we're going to throw our weight behind the Union forces at the Battle of Bull Run and turn a Confederate victory into a Confederate rout. It may even force a surrender and a quick end to the war. Dashing Ashley (the new nickname he used for Captain Patterson in his thoughts) will have another chapter in her story and another resume stuffer for her admiral's bars, bars that I should wear.
He never liked Ashley Patterson, and since she embarrassed him in the wardroom incident about Seaman Thurber's promotion, his dislike was turning to hatred. When she named Ivan Campbell to lead the delegation to the Navy Department, that cemented it. I'm second in command of this goddamn ship, he thought. I should be the one to make contact with the Secretary of the Navy.
Bradley realized that his career would soon be over, in 1861 or 2013. He was 45 years old and had been passed over twice for captain. Even though he had licked his drinking problem long ago, there were still black marks on his record. Because the captain is responsible for his annual fitness report, that wardroom incident probably tolled the end of his days in the Navy. I've been an officer since that bitch was in elementary school, he thought. Now she's a media darling, outranks me, and will probably be the final nail in my career coffin. I may as well be in the Confederate Navy.
Bradley sat bolt upright, spilling coffee all over his desk.
The Confederate Navy? As a Southerner and as a history buff, he always felt that the Civil War was a big mistake. But now that there's a war, is he on the right side?
The Confederate Navy, he kept thinking. If he were a Confederate officer he'd no sooner be a traitor to his country than Robert E. Lee or anyone who fought for the South. Not only would he become a captain, he thought, he could see a clear path to admiral. If Dashing Ashley and her new friend Lt. Thurber can figure out a way back to 2013, he would be perfectly content to finish out his career in the nineteenth-century. He had no wife, no kids, and very little that he wanted to return to. Eighteen sixty-one sounds like a good year to me, he thought.
Bradley knew something that the Confederate command didn't.
He knew the secrets of The Gray Ship.
Chapter 15
The ship slowed to a position 10 miles southeast of the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, after a journey of 14 hours. It was April 13, the day after the Battle of Fort Sumter.
The California carried a 40-foot motor launch with ample room to accommodate Secretary Wells and his delegation.
Captain Patterson ordered the boat lowered at 0400, well before sunrise. She had given up on the idea of total secrecy. She knew that there had been many sightings of the Gray Ship. The launch would find a place to tie up around dawn. The Marine corporal and the petty officer who was the boat captain were both armed and would provide security. If they were questioned, they would say they were from the Gray Ship.
Ivan Campbell, Father Rick and Lt. Jack Thurber boarded the launch at 0410. It was pitch dark, but the temperature was mild and the winds calm. Marine Corporal Robert Falanga tossed off the lines to a sailor on the ship. Petty Officer Michael Donizzio, the captain of the motor launch, maneuvered the boat away from the base of the ladder. Donizzio pulled the launch away from the California and steered toward the mouth of the Potomac River.
Campbell turned to Father Rick and Lt. Thurber and said, "I think this is a boat ride we'll never forget."
Father Rick looked at him and said, "Is that because we're motoring up the Potomac River in 1861 to visit the Secretary of the Navy and invite him to take a look at 2013?"
"Yeah, something like that Father," said Campbell."
Donizzio stayed in the center of the river because he did not have accurate charts for 1861. Although the boat was equipped with a depth meter, Donizzio knew, as did any experienced boater, that relying solely on a depth meter was poor seamanship. Water depth, especially in a busy river, can go from feet to inches in an instant, and many a boater has learned that a depth meter often lets you know that you're about to go aground in a couple of seconds. The launch was also equipped with radar, so piloting the boat up the Potomac wasn't difficult. They arrived at a pier that had a view of the not-quite finished Capital Dome. The time was 0545. Sunrise would be at 0630. Donizzio expertly guided the boat next to the pier, reversing her big diesel engines to bring it to a stop. Before he joined the Navy, Donizzio worked in his father's boatyard. Small boat handling came second nature to him.
Because it was still early, Donizzio put on a pot of coffee for his guests. As captain of the motor launch, he considered anyone aboard to be his guest.
"You'd make a great tour guide with your own boat, Mike," said Father Rick.
"Planning on it, Padre," said Donizzio. At 0800, Campbell said they should head for the Navy Department. Donizzio stepped onto the pier and walked up to a small building on the roadway that appeared to be a general store. He asked the proprietor where he could call for a carriage. The store owner called up to his son, who came bounding down the stairs.
"This young man will be happy to assist you," said the store owner. The kid, maybe 17 years old, ran behind the store and a couple of minutes later brought the horse drawn carriage to the front of the store. Donizzio hopped in and they rode down to the pier.
The carriage pulled up to the Navy Department at 0900. All three officers were wearing the period clothing that the SEALs had stolen from Morton's Dry Goods Store in Charleston.
The building that housed the Navy Department was a two-story structure with plain but elegant stone carving around its entrance, which was four steps above the street.
As they strode through the front door they all had the same thought: "No metal detector?"
The lobby of the building had no windows and was dimly lit by gas lamps. An officer sat at a desk off to the right about 25 feet from the entrance. On the other side of the room, opposite from the officer's desk, was a couch and a couple of chairs. Campbell walked up to the officer and got right to the point.
"Good morning, Lieutenant. We're officers from the USS California, which you may know as the Gray Ship. We've been sent by our captain to contact Secretary Wells."
Looking at their Morton's Dry Goods best the officer asked, "Are these your normal uniforms?"
"The Captain ordered the uniform of the day to be civilian clothes for the purpose of our visit," Campbell said.
"Please wait, gentlemen. I'll ask if Secretary Wells can see you." The officer walked through a large doorway opening.
Lt. Jack observed, "I guess they haven't invented an intercom system yet." They expected to be kept waiting awhile so they sat on the large sofa in the lobby. The union officer burst into the room in less than a minute.
"Secretary Wells will see you immediately," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Please follow me."
I guess the Secretary is anxious to see us,
Campbell thought. They walked down a long hallway with quaint opaque windows on the doors, each imprinted with the purpose of the office. The officer opened the door and led them into Wells' office. The room was 20 feet by 20 feet, tastefully decorated with dark wood paneling. Each wall boasted paintings of famous naval battles.
Gideon Wells, age 59, with the largest white beard any of them had ever seen, sprang to his feet and almost sprinted around his desk to greet his visitors.
"So you're from the Gray Ship I've been hearing so much about," Wells said. "It is fortuitous indeed that you should seek me out." Charmingly stuffy language, thought Fr. Rick. "Gentlemen, my staff and I have been struggling for days to devise a plan to contact you. Please be seated." Campbell introduced his colleagues and himself.
A sailor appeared carrying a large tray with coffee, tea, and cakes. Wells asked, "Do you mind if I ask my aide, Commander Roebling, to join us?"
"Mr. Secretary, we're officers of the United States Navy," Campbell said. "That makes you our boss, Sir. Please ask anyone you wish to join us." Commander David Roebling appeared and Wells introduced him.
Secretary Wells began the meeting. "I have heard many reports of Gray Ship sightings, most of which sound fanciful and not quite believable. Commander Campbell, please enlighten us."
Campbell began with the Daylight Event, and all of the strange things that happened over the last four days. He discussed Fort Sumter and how he witnessed the bombardment along with the captain. Campbell decided that he should get right to the major point and backfill the details. Gideon Wells was amazed. He didn't know that his mind was about to be blown, even though he wouldn't describe it that way.
The Gray Ship Page 6
