U.S.S. Seawolf

by Patrick Robinson

  “And did the Master Chief reply?”

  “Yessir, he said again that, in his opinion the CO should definitely be informed because this was a critical part of our mission.”

  “And did Lieutenant Commander Clarke heed that second warning?”

  “Nossir. He did not. He said in his judgment, he was fine. And then he ordered the course change to cross the destroyer’s stern.”

  “You still had the conn?”

  “Yessir. He ordered me to steer right standard rudder, course zero-nine-zero at eight knots.”

  “And did you do so?”

  “Yessir.”

  “And what happened then?”

  “Sir, I thought we had made it, but there was a sudden slowing down in power. We were still at PD, and I could feel there was a slight alteration in trim, stern-down just fractionally. The regular beat of the machinery was just different, and we were slowing down, definitely not completing our crossing of the destroyer’s stern.”

  “Were you able to ascertain what had happened, Lieutenant?”

  “I KNEW what had happened, sir. We’ve had enough talk about the length of the new Chinese towed arrays.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “Captain Crocker came charging into the conn.”

  “No longer asleep?”

  “Nossir. Wide awake, and not real pleased with Lieutenant Commander Clarke.”

  “Did he realize what had happened?”

  “Nossir. Not immediately. He kinda snapped, ‘What’s going on, XO?’ Then he grabbed the periscope and took a very quick look before it washed under the water because of our stem-down trim.”

  “How long was he able to look?”

  “I’d say about three seconds. No longer.”

  “And was that long enough?”

  “Definitely long enough for the CO, sir.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Sir, he solved the problem right away. He said the destroyer was only five hundred yards away. Not the mile Lieutenant Commander Clarke had stated. He said the XO had turned the periscope handle the wrong way, right onto low power, which made it look like a mile when it was nothing like that.”

  “And did the XO reply?”

  “Yessir, he did. He said, ‘Oh my God,’ twice. And then he said he was extremely sorry.”

  At this point Myerscough sprang to his feet and said that he objected to this line of hearsay questioning involving his client.

  Admiral Archie Cameron was furious. He ordered, “SILENCE.” And then he said quietly, “Mr. Myerscough, if you attempt to interrupt these military proceedings one more time, I’ll have you escorted out of the room, and right off the station, by Navy guards. You may speak when I say you can speak, and at no other time. Do you understand me?”

  It was a while since Myerscough had been spoken to in quite those terms. But he was not about to tangle with this admiral, and he did not think he would be much thanked by the President for being evicted in the first hour of the proceedings.

  And so he just nodded formally, apologized and sat down. The admiral then added, “I do not consider the sworn testimony of a lieutenant in the United States Navy, and second officer of the deck at the time, to be giving us hearsay when he recounts a conversation that took place within five feet of where he was standing.…Please continue, Admiral Curran.”

  “Lieutenant, was it your impression that Lieutenant Commander Clarke agreed with the CO’s assessment or his error?”

  “Yessir. Very definitely. He was really upset. Very apologetic.”

  “Did you, the officer with the conn, agree with the CO’s assessment?”

  “Absolutely, sir. No doubt in my mind. The difference between five hundred yards and one mile through a periscope is unmistakable.”

  “Quite so,” replied Admiral Curran, a lifelong submariner himself. And with that, he said he had no further questions for Seawolf’s Officer of the Deck, though his colleagues might wish to question him further.

  Admiral Cameron conferred with his colleagues very briefly, and they were in agreement that this was as far as the investigation should go—to the point where the submarine became disabled. No further.

  “Very well,” said Admiral Cameron. “The attending lawyers may now ask questions of the witness. But I do stress, this is not some kangaroo civilian court. This is a United States Navy Board of Inquiry. And I will not tolerate theatrics or aggression toward one of my trusted submarine officers.”

  “I have no questions, sir,” said Art Mangone.

  “I have a few,” said Philip Myerscough, rising to his feet on behalf of the President of the United States. “First, I would like to ask whether three seconds is a sufficient amount of time to make a judgment call of this dimension?”

  “Plenty, sir. We are all trained to make the fastest possible observations through the periscope. Seven seconds is routine maximum in hostile waters. Captain Crocker is renowned for his grasp of the surface picture. He’s the best, sir. The best I ever saw.”

  “That was rather more than I asked for, Lieutenant,” said Mr. Myerscough, not quite interrupting, but almost. “Perhaps you could restrict your answers to my precise question, rather than adding on a character reference for. your CO.”

  “Absolutely, sir. No problem right there. I just thought you’d like to know, sir.…he’s the best.”

  Philip Myerscough visibly flinched. But he recovered and then said, with civilian inexactitude, “So you believe that short space of time would be fine to make such a judgment?”

  “Oh sure, sir. Three seconds’ concentration, for a man trained like Captain Crocker…no problem. He probably could’ve done it in one second.”

  Admirals Cameron and Curran could hardly contain their thin smiles at the obvious discomfort of a city lawyer trying to deal with Navy precision.

  “Lieutenant,” said Mr. Myerscough. “You stated that you thought Lieutenant Commander Clarke was plainly upset and apologetic. Could you have been mistaken in that assumption?”

  “Nossir.”

  “On what do you base that assumption?”

  “It’s not an assumption, sir. It’s a fact. He was upset and apologetic. I heard him saying, ‘Oh my God,’ and I heard him say, ‘I’m extremely sorry.’”

  “Are you quite sure of that? Because Lieutenant Commander Clarke has a very different recollection.”

  “He was probably too upset to think straight right then, sir. Anyone would have been. You make a mistake like that. Sir, I even recall what Captain Crocker said after the XO said how sorry he was.”

  “I have not asked you to recount that.”

  “Nossir. But I’m real happy to tell you. He said, ‘So am I, Linus. So am I.’”

  “No further questions.” Mr. Myerscough shook his head in some exasperation, as if unable to cope with the ingenuous, no-lies, no-bullshit mind-set of a Navy officer accustomed to telling the truth to all higher authority. Lieutenant Warren, like everyone else, had it ingrained in him since first he entered Annapolis and was told, “The only thing they’ll throw you out for is lying. So don’t even consider telling one. They’ll forgive damn near anything, except for a lie. That’s death in the Naval Academy.”

  “Call Master Chief Brad Stockton.…”

  Recovered now from the battering he had taken in Xiachuan Dao, the Master Chief entered the room and walked purposefully to the front, saluted the admirals and swore to tell the truth.

  Admiral Curran walked him through the first exchanges and then concentrated on the significant points.

  “And when did you first realize that Lieutenant Commander Clarke was intending to conduct a maneuver with which you were personally uncomfortable?”

  “Just as soon as he said he was intending to cross the stern of that destroyer, sir.”

  “And what was your own judgment?”

  “Sir, I knew we were uncertain about the length of the Chinese towed array. And I did tell him that, just as a kind of warning.”


  “But what did he say?”

  “He said he had no intention of coming in closer than a mile, which would be plenty of clearance.”

  “Did you know that he was seeing the destroyer a mile off?”

  “Nossir. I did not look through the periscope. I assumed he was certain of at least that fact—like we were a mile clear of the Chinese warship.”

  “And was the clearance distance the biggest thing on your mind?”

  “No sir. It was not.”

  “What was?”

  “That we were not informing the CO of our actions. I thought that was really wrong.”

  “And did you inform Lieutenant Commander Clarke of your concerns?”

  “Yessir. Twice. I told him that since we were groping around the backside of a six-thousand-ton destroyer in Chinese waters the captain ought to be informed.”

  “And did he heed this warning from the Chief of the Boat?”

  “Nossir. He did not. He said there was no need. He said the destroyer was not transmitting on anything and he was just going in closer for pictures.”

  “And what then?”

  “Well, sir. I was being overruled by our Executive Officer. I had no choice but to accept his order. But I did say again, I still thought the CO should be told what we were doing.”

  “And was that final advice accepted?”

  “Nossir. It was not. Lieutenant Commander Clarke proceeded to order the boat across the stern of the destroyer at one mile distance. At least that’s what he believed.”

  “And did you believe that distance?”

  “Yessir. You expect your XO to be able to handle the periscope accurately.”

  “But in hindsight, you now believe he was not doing that.”

  “Obviously not, sir. And when the CO finally arrived, that much became very apparent.”

  “You mean you accept Captain Crocker’s version of what had gone wrong—low power on the periscope, which made the destroyer seem much farther away than it really was?”

  “No question, sir. I heard the lieutenant commander apologize. That’s what happened.”

  “That’s all, Master Chief,” replied Admiral Curran. “Admiral Cameron may wish to say more.”

  “I don’t think so,” replied the chairman. “The evidence of the Chief of the Boat and the evidence of the Officer of the Deck are identical. Mr. Mangone? Mr. Myerscough?”

  “Nothing further from me,” said Art Mangone.

  And once more Philip Myerscough stood up and attempted to cast Linus Clarke in a somewhat better light than that of error-prone number two on a nuclear submarine.

  “Mr. Stockton,” he said, as if trying to distance himself entirely from the military. “You stated that you were certain that Lieutenant Commander Clarke had mistakenly placed the periscope on low power, which subsequently increased the apparent distance between Seawolf and the Chinese destroyer?”

  “Yessir. I did. And I am.”

  “What proof is there? What proof do you have? Is this not a mere speculation?”

  “Well, sir, our commanding officer looked right through the periscope within moments of the error and stated that the Xiangtan was five hundred yards away.”

  “But what proof is there that it was not Mr. Crocker who was mistaken and that Linus Clarke was correct all along?”

  “I guess because we then wrapped our screw around the towed array, which was a lot nearer than Lieutenant Commander Clarke believed.”

  “But how do you know it was not a mile long—and that Lieutenant Commander Clarke made no mistake?”

  “Well, I don’t know that for certain, sir, but I never have heard that the Chinese own a mile-long towed array. No one in the United States Navy has ever even suggested such a thing. Longest I heard was one thousand yards.”

  “But with respect, Mr. Stockton, the fact that you never heard of such a thing does not preclude it from existing?”

  “Nossir. I guess not.”

  “Then it would be foolish to discount the possibility?”

  “Nossir. It would be foolish to include it. Captain Crocker saw the submarine with his own eyes five hundred yards off our port beam.”

  “For three seconds, I believe. Not very long.”

  “Sir, in our trade, assessing the surface picture, three seconds is long. Like three hours to a normal untrained person.”

  Philip Myerscough chuckled a deep sardonic chuckle. “But Mr. Stockton,” he said, “no one else saw it, did they, because the submarine was trimmed stern down and the periscope was under the water?”

  “No one saw it right then. But we came to the surface a very few minutes later. And the destroyer was still five hundred yards away.”

  “And who had the periscope then?”

  “The commanding officer, sir.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Yessir.”

  Philip Myerscough looked temporarily uncomfortable. “And who was that?” he asked.

  “Me, sir. The CO handed over the periscope for me to look at the long wire on our screw. You could see it, about fifteen feet across, a huge tangle.”

  At this point Mangone arose, and requested just one question at this juncture.

  Admiral Cameron said, “Please proceed.” And with some annoyance, Myerscough sat down.

  “Master Chief,” said Mangone, “when you looked through that periscope on the surface, within a very few minutes of the accident, how far was the destroyer from Seawolf?”

  “Five hundred yards or so, sir.”

  “Thank you, Master Chief. Just checking. No further questions.”

  Philip Myerscough stood again. “Mr. Stockton, how long have you served with Captain Crocker?”

  “Oh, we’ve done maybe six tours of duty together.”

  “Would it be fair to say you admire him greatly?”

  “Yessir. The best I ever sailed with.”

  “And would you say you are completely loyal to him? As your CO?”

  “Yessir. I am.”

  “Perhaps too loyal?”

  “Nossir.”

  “Perhaps more loyal to Captain Crocker than you might be to the absolute truth?”

  “THAT’S ENOUGH!!” Admiral Cameron was on his feet. “I have already explained to you, Mr. Myerscough, that I will not have my men examined as if they were in a civilian court. Perhaps I should spell it out further. Men like Brad Stockton hold this Navy together. He is not an ordinary man. He is a man of vast integrity, holding a position of quite awesome responsibility. Not for money, not for cheap glory, but for the sense of achieving a massively important task. Every day. In harm’s way. Protecting this nation. I will not have him treated like the kind of criminal you deal with in your chosen way of life.”

  And then he softened a little. “Mr. Myerscough, you will treat my men with total respect, or I will not hesitate to have you escorted from this Board of Inquiry. IS THAT QUITE CLEAR?”

  Admiral Cameron, however, was too late. The question had been asked, though not answered. And it was in the record. The seed of doubt had been sown, that Brad Stockton would support anything Judd Crocker said.

  And Philip Myerscough knew it. He just said, “With respect, sir.” And resumed his seat.

  The next witness to be called was Lieutenant Commander Clarke himself. And for the first time he moved away from his lawyer’s side, standing now in front of the admirals.

  The formalities were dispensed with, and the President’s son swore to tell the truth.

  There were no discrepancies in the basic points of evidence. The times and facts were not in dispute. What was in dispute was how far away that destroyer was when Linus Clarke drove Seawolf over the towed array.

  And if Linus had been apologizing in the conn on the morning of July 5, he very definitely was not doing so now. He stood back and argued with Admiral Freddie Curran that he had been correct, that there was a mile between the ships. It was not, could not have been his fault. He would never make such an elementary error with the peris
cope.

  In his opinion, the Chinese towed array must have been a mile long. There was no other explanation, and it could not be proved one way or another. So far as Linus was concerned, it was his word against Judd Crocker’s and that was all.

  The Board of Inquiry listened carefully to the deadlock, and then invited Mangone to ask any further questions, if he so wished.