The Gray Ship

by Russell Moran

  At 0515, just after sunrise, the California was on location off the southern coast of the Delmarva Peninsula, about 110 miles east of Richmond, Virginia. Captain Patterson was in CIC, along with Lt. Conroy. The sky was clear except for a line of clouds moving from the southeast. Ashley knew they would need to act soon because laser homing technology is affected by clouds. She had ordered a drone launch three hours before.

  Lt. Bob Nathan, one of the drone pilots, stared at the screen. Ashley had chosen him specifically for the job because of his experience and skill. He also showed a steely professionalism. Piloting a drone, especially one armed with missiles, is a stressful job. It's not like playing a video game. The pilot knows that he can pour death from above with the click of a button.

  "You did a hell of a job yesterday at Bull Run, Bob. I'm putting you in for a medal and a promotion." Hopefully it will take place in the twenty-first century, Ashley thought.

  Nathan flew the drone over the camp of the Army of Northern Virginia. Conroy confirmed what he saw on the screen from the photos he had taken while on the SEAL mission. In front of them appeared the artillery park the size of a football field.

  "Isn't it dumb to place artillery so close together to make such a convenient target?" Ashley asked Conroy.

  "Yes, Ma'am, it is. The idea is to enable the guns to be closely guarded. But that idea is out the window with aerial warfare. Even as late as December 7, 1941, people still thought that you should cluster your assets for security. Dozens of American planes were destroyed on Ford Island during the attack on Pearl Harbor, clustered in groups, using that same outmoded doctrine. Yes, it's dumb. I guess Robert E. Lee hasn't heard of our capabilities."

  "He'll hear soon," said Ashley.

  She told Nathan to lock in his laser sights on the upper third of the artillery park. Because of the size of the field she would launch three Tomahawks at the park.

  "Battery three, advise when ready," said Ashley

  "Battery three ready, Captain."

  "Fire one!"

  The ship rumbled as the cruise missile rocketed toward its target.

  The Tomahawk scored a direct hit on the upper section of the field. The Captain waited until the smoke cleared to get a view of the damage. What had been neat rows and columns of artillery pieces looked like tooth picks.

  Ashley then ordered another missile fired, this time toward the bottom of the field. Same result. After they viewed the damage from the third Tomahawk, they could see that Robert E. Lee had virtually no artillery left.

  Ashley told Nathan to focus on the huge area of ammunition carts. She ordered a fourth Tomahawk fired at the ammo. The explosion, which they viewed on Nathan's screen, was fearsome. It was almost 15 minutes before they could assess the damage because of so much smoke. When it finally cleared, they saw that the ammunition dump was now a very large crater.

  As a parting shot at Lee's Army, Ashley ordered Nathan to shoot his Hellfire missile at the command tent. The tent went up in a confusion of fire, smoke, debris, and canvas. Lee was not in the tent at the time, although no one could tell.

  ***

  The final part of their mission was to attack the large Armory in Richmond. The drone hovered over the site within a few minutes. The clouds had not yet moved in, so their laser guidance was still good to go.

  Based on planning with both Conroy and Andrea Rubin, the weapons officer, Ashley decided to use two Harpoon ship-to-ship missiles and one Tomahawk on the target. The Harpoons are made to penetrate the hull of a ship, and would work their destruction on a building as well.

  An actor named John Wilkes Booth walked in front of the Armory on his way to a rehearsal for a play in which he would soon star. He heard an odd sound in the sky and looked up. In the final moments of his life he admired the beauty and speed of the strange machine as it rocketed over his head toward its target.

  The resulting explosion was so large and dramatic it almost looked like a nuclear blast. The Armory and its contents were reduced to rubble, as was a large part of the Richmond waterfront. At the old Customs House, the Executive Office Building a few blocks away, the Armory attack spread its violence. The shock wave smashed the windows along the side of the building facing the Armory, and large cracks appeared in the walls. The impact on the building was similar to the after effects of an earthquake. On Lincoln's specific orders, the Executive Office Building was not targeted. Lincoln wanted to have plenty of Confederate government officials to bear witness to the Armory's destruction.

  A British blockade runner had dropped anchor in the middle of the James River, having made it through the Union blockade to deliver its cargo. Not far from the British ship were three Confederate gunboats, also swinging on their anchors. All four vessels were destroyed by the firestorm of debris hurled from the Armory.

  After the last two days, Ashley thought, can the South possibly want to continue this war?

  Chapter 82

  Jefferson Davis got his first hand view of the war at the Battle of Manassas. A graduate of West Point, and former United States Secretary of War in the Pierce Administration, Davis was no dilettante in military affairs. Known for his stubbornness, he was nevertheless a realist.

  He witnessed the awesome destructive power of a Gray Ship and its terrible weapons. If he had known in advance of the Gray Ships' existence, he would not have gone to war against the Union. In one battle he saw an army stripped of its artillery and ammunition, and its cavalry decimated.

  Davis, in a horse-drawn carriage, approached the capital. He couldn't take the train that had brought him to Manassas because the Gray Ship had destroyed it. On his way to Richmond he stopped to inspect what was left of Lee's Army. His journey had taken three days. He met with Lee in the General's new command tent, the other one having been destroyed by an object from the sky. Davis had received a detailed report of the attack on Richmond by a rider while on his way to the capital, and he shared the information with Lee. He always thought of Lee as a man of granite, a person whose resolve never weakened.

  What Davis saw was a shaken man. Lee, with a military record of bravery and leadership, was always ready for whatever an enemy could throw at him. And he always prepared to strike back, only stronger. But Lee had no training, no experience, or even imagination for what he saw on the morning of July 22. It was an enemy that came out of the sky, an enemy that had no face, an enemy that hurled destruction in a way that was almost casual.

  Lee was both a strategist and a tactician. He saw the big picture of vast armies and the small picture of a supply list. He was a planner who knew how to execute the plans he made.

  But in the past few days Lee could come up with no plan, no strategy, not even a guess. He simply had no idea how to fight the Gray Ships and their strange captains.

  Neither did Jefferson Davis.

  Chapter 83

  It is 10 a.m. Eastern Time on April 10, 2013 in Washington DC. The USS California has been missing for seven hours. President Obama is about to address the nation and the world.

  "My fellow Americans," the President began, "I'm here to talk to you about 630 people, 630 Americans, who are lost, 630 lives who have touched others. Moms and dads, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters, boy and girlfriends. Now these 630 people have touched the lives of all of us, here in the United States and around the world. It has been just over seven hours since the USS California disappeared from our radar and satellite scopes. A massive search and rescue operation is now underway, one of the largest ever conducted, looking for our 630 friends. We're using the most sophisticated technology available, and we will continue our search. For anyone listening to me I ask you, if you know anyone who is a friend or relative of a California crew member, please reach out. Reach out with a call, a kind word, a hug."

  An aide with a five-year-old girl in her arms approached the lectern from the left. She put the girl in the President's arms.

  "I hear you made a card for your mom," said Obama.

  She held the car
d up. It read, "I miss you Mommy." At that the little girl broke down and cried.

  Obama then cried. Not the cry of a skilled politician who knows how to turn it on for effect, but the cry of a father who feels helpless to make a child's pain go away.

  "God Bless the crew of the California, and God Bless America." Obama concluded his address, his voice barely under control.

  ***

  When the President went behind the curtain at the end of his talk, he looked at Bill

  Daley, his Chief of Staff, and said, "I just hope to God that I didn't make it look hopeless."

  "It just may be hopeless, Mr. President," said Daley, tears running down his face. "You spoke for all of us."

  ***

  On CNN, the camera panned to Wolf Blitzer, the veteran anchorman.

  "If what you just saw doesn't summarize everyone's feelings this morning, nothing does," said Blitzer, his own voice choking. "As the minutes and hours go by, our hearts are with those families. We will break in with any new developments, any developments at all. In other news..."

  Chapter 84

  General Nathan Bedford Forrest, also known as the Wizard of the Saddle, was in Jefferson Davis' office along with Robert E. Lee. Forrest was renowned as a daring horseman who used cavalry charges with strategic and technical brilliance. Forrest had requested the meeting. It was July 29, 1861, eight days after the Battle of Bull Run/Manassas.

  "Sir,” said Forrest, "the word is all over the South about the events at Manassas, at General Lee's camp, and here in Richmond. If I may be so bold I would summarize the thinking of many people, perhaps most, that the South cannot win a war with the Gray Ships on the Union side."

  "I would agree with that summary, General," said Davis. Davis looked at Lee, who nodded in agreement.

  "What we have to do gentlemen, is to challenge our notions of an army, throw away the history books, and start anew. I recommend that we take every one of our armies, corps, divisions regiments, and brigades and break them down into cavalry battalions. We should then set up small headquarters throughout the countryside. An army may control a city, but will be useless against countless small battalions of raiders. Not only will an army be useless, but a Gray Ship will be useless as well."

  "What you're talking about, Sir, is guerilla war," said Lee.

  “That's exactly what I'm talking about General, guerilla war. It's the Spanish word for "little war," and it's been used for centuries. It's a way for small units of soldiers to defeat large forces. I believe it's the only way to wage war against a fleet of Gray Ships. We won't fight the Gray Ships – we'll ignore them."

  Lee didn't like what he heard. There had been elements of guerilla warfare throughout the country even before secession. Kansas and Missouri were almost torn apart by raiding bands of "bushwhackers." None other than the James brothers, two murderous lunatics, participated in those horrible attacks. Lee expressed his concern that these "battalions" could degenerate into bands of armed hooligans, subject to no authority.

  "Gentlemen," said Forrest, "it is not that we have much choice. If we continue a traditional war, the South will be annihilated. The Gray Ships will turn the tide of any battle before the first bugle sounds. They will target our artillery, our munitions, and our command headquarters. Future battles will have nothing to do with bravery or resolve, things that we have in abundance. No, gentlemen, future battles will be determined by terrible weapons falling from the sky. "

  "The alternative," Forrest said, "is to take to the hills. We can enforce discipline on the guerilla battalions, although that may not be easy. But it is easier than continuing this conflict toward an inevitable defeat, a defeat that will leave us no possibility to negotiate. We will be forced into unconditional surrender. If we wage a guerilla war, the North will want to end it. The Gray Ships will be useless against small, fast moving cavalry battalions."

  Davis and Lee, both crushed by what they had seen at Richmond and Lee's camp, looked at each other. Davis got out of his chair and paced the room. He looked again at Lee. Lee slowly nodded his head. Forrest was right, they both concluded. The Confederacy will have to wage a guerilla war.

  Davis sat down and drafted an announcement to the press. He stated that the Armies of the Confederacy would soon be reorganized, concentrating on small cavalry battalions. He didn't use the word "disband" when he referred to reorganizing the Armies, a word that sounded defeatist.

  The Confederacy would not give up; rather it would "reorganize."

  Davis saw the wisdom of this idea, as did Lee. He also saw the potential tragedy. He would make the announcement to the press. But he said to Lee and Forrest, "Absolutely no steps will be taken reorganize the armies until some time goes by. I want to assess the Union response to the announcement."

  Chapter 85

  On the morning of July 31, Lincoln called a hasty meeting with Navy Secretary Wells, Secretary of War Cameron and Secretary of State Seward.

  As they were ushered into his office, Lincoln stood behind his desk holding a copy of yesterday's New York Times. The headline read:

  "Confederacy to Reorganize All Armies into Small Cavalry Battalions"

  It was a headline that Lincoln hoped he would never see. His advisors were stunned. The headline of one newspaper had changed everything. It made the difference between what was supposed to happen, and what would happen.

  With the help of the California, the Battle of Bull Run was a resounding Union victory. It was followed up by the attack on Lee's Army, which decimated his artillery and munitions. Then the missile attack on the Richmond Armory was the final straw, or should have been.

  "Gentlemen," said Lincoln, "my worst fears have come to full fruit. We know what 'small cavalry battalions' means. It means a guerilla war of attrition, of lightning fast strikes against our larger forces, a war of endless bee stings. All of our military plans called for us to eventually occupy key Southern cities. But now, instead of occupying cities, we shall have to occupy a vast land area, an area the size of France, Germany, Italy, Poland, Spain, and Switzerland combined. Instead of dealing with a central government, we shall have to deal with countless bands of warlords. Our numerical superiority as well as our industrial strength will be sapped. Our plans call for us to engage large armies. Now there will be no armies to engage, just bands of marauding cavalrymen. The California was to be the key to forcing the South to come to its senses. Captain Patterson and her crew performed beyond our expectations. But instead of bringing the South to its senses, our recent victories have caused it to lose its senses."

  "We have seen no reports that the Confederacy has realized that Operation Gray Ships was a ruse," said Wells, trying to be helpful. "They still think that we have a vast fleet of terrifying ships."

  "But," continued Lincoln, "the Gray Ships deception is what caused the South to reorganize. After they saw what happened at Bull Run and Richmond, they knew they were fighting a force they could not resist. Our success is what has cornered them into their only option, guerilla warfare. Not only is the California at a disadvantage in a guerilla war, she is only one ship, as we all know. Captain Patterson has advised me that they are beginning to run low on munitions. They only have three Tomahawk missiles left, and a dwindling supply of other arms. They are also running low on the fuel they need to fly their aircraft, fuel that we cannot provide. We have deceived the enemy. Let us not deceive ourselves."

  Lincoln went on to say that even the naval blockade would lose its power, because the South would no longer worry about provisioning large armies. Small guerilla groups can live off the land. The California's blockade assistance will become less important because of her constantly diminishing firepower.

  Abraham Lincoln, in addition to his qualities as a great leader, also suffered bouts of depression, his "black moods." His mood had never been darker. They had achieved great military success, but they failed in the most important goal of all, to win the minds and hearts of the enemy.

  "Gentlemen," said Linc
oln, " I need to look at new war plans as soon as possible, because we suddenly have a new war."

  Chapter 86

  Ashley kept a heavy boxing bag suspended from the overhead in the corner of her office. It was a great form of exercise, doing wonders for upper arm strength and agility. It was also a great way to let off steam, to give anger a way to vent, a way to punch the face of an opponent without causing trouble.

  When the news of the Confederate "reorganization" got to Ashley, she suddenly developed a lot of steam to let off.

  Ashley put on her gloves and started to work the bag. As she punched the bag, the image of Jefferson Davis was on her mind. After 20 minutes of the most intense workout she ever had, she steadied the bag and removed her gloves.

  Ashley felt better, or at least calmer. She took a quick shower, toweled off and changed into fresh fatigues. She needed to meet with her brain trust, her Time Travel Brain Trust. She picked up the phone and called Father Rick and Jack to her office. She then stood up, walked over to the bag and gave it one last punch. Maybe two.

  Father Rick and Jack showed up within moments of each other. Father Rick noticed the punching bag swaying on its chain, and Ashley's boxing gloves hanging on the bulkhead.

  "Having a nice morning, are we?" said Father Rick with his usual smile and chuckle.

  Ashley walked over to each man and gave him a hug in place of a salute. Jack's hug was a little longer than his, thought Father Rick with a smile.

  They sat around the conference table, with Father Rick and Jack on one side and Ashley on the other.

  "No, we are not having a nice morning, to answer your question, Father."

  "As we steamed away from Richmond I ordered the navigator to lay out a course for our last position on April 10, 2013, the wormhole, our doorway to home. I don't know if he's done it yet, but suddenly there doesn't seem to be a rush. Soon I'll be meeting with President Lincoln, I'm sure. My guess is that he'll see the strategic use of the California reduced to blockade duty. We'll be back to 'costume changes' and firing warning shots, with our dwindling supply of ammunition. I can only imagine the shock that went through the White House when they heard of the Confederate 'reorganization.' "