It had been fairly easy to get through the German lines. As before, the Germans couldn’t be everywhere and gaps weren’t that difficult to find. Going back, however, would be more difficult. The Germans would be thoroughly pissed as word of the destruction of their bomber force spread. The soaring flames and explosions had doubtless alerted every German within twenty miles. The fact that he and Luke had worn German uniforms would entitle them to a firing squad if they were caught.
“Captain Martel.”
“Major?”
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The battleship Arizona led. Behind her came the Pennsylvania with the smaller Nevada bringing up the rear. Two destroyers patrolled in advance of the battleships. They did not want to blunder into the German fleet in the dark and the rain. That was not the plan.
Normally the battleship division was commanded by Rear Admiral Edward Eberle, but Admiral Sims had decided to be in on the adventure. He’d told Eberle to ignore him, which was, of course, impossible. Eberle was half amused and half frustrated, but the battleship division was his and he would lead as best he could, by God.
Pride of the squadron was the Arizona, BB 39. She had a crew of nearly eleven hundred, displaced more than thirty-one thousand tons, and she carried a dozen fourteen-inch guns in four turrets.
Next came the Pennsylvania, BB 38. She had a slightly smaller crew but displaced the same tonnage as the Arizona. She too carried twelve fourteen-inch guns.
The Nevada, was the smaller and older of the three, displacing just under twenty-two thousand tons and carrying only ten fourteen-inch guns.
All three had a top speed of twenty-one knots.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Josh Cornell wished he was elsewhere, in particular he wished he was in the slender and pale arms of the beautiful Elise Thompson. Along with missing Elise he was shocked to find himself in yet another combat situation with a real possibility of getting hurt once more. The three battleships were on a mission to probe the German fleet’s readiness and to act as a screen for additional endeavors.
As occurred so often, the weather was a cross between mist and rain. Visibility was poor and he was quietly freezing on the open portion of the Arizona’s bridge. The power of the Pacific Ocean was manifesting itself in the form of giant rollers that tossed the mighty warships like toys. Josh wondered just how the Germans on blockade duty were faring.
For Josh, being on the battleship had enabled him to renew acquaintance with Annapolis classmates. To his surprise they were impressed, even jealous, by the fact that he’d not only seen the elephant twice but had also been wounded. That he was Sims’ aide hadn’t hurt either, nor had the fact that he hadn’t gotten seasick. He’d noticed some of his old friends looking more than a little green around the gills as the battleship rocked and pitched.
Sharp cracking noises from ahead jolted him back to reality. The lead American destroyers were shooting at something. Roaring thunder counterpointed the destroyers. The German battleships were firing back. But were the Germans moving, and in which direction? Were they distracted enough? Josh prudently stuffed cotton and wax in his ears and opened his mouth to minimize the effect of the Arizona’s guns which were about to respond.
Eberle gave the order and the three battleships opened fire in the general direction of the German ships. The roar and concussion of the great guns nearly knocked Josh to the deck. He managed to steady himself although it did cause his shoulder to hurt.
He looked over at Sims, who was grinning like a little kid. Sims was a gunnery expert, but also a man who’d never been in combat. During the Spanish-American War, when so many officers had made their careers, he’d been the naval attaché in Paris. His specialty back then was espionage.
The Germans returned fire, but they too were largely blind. Still, a couple of shells landed close enough for him to see immense geysers roaring skyward.
Eberle turned to Sims. “Enough?”
Sims nodded, although with reluctance. The three American ships were not going to challenge five Germans. Their job was to taunt them and distract them. The American ships turned and steamed back up Puget Sound. German shells chased them and the Germans doubtless thought they’d won a minor, albeit largely moral, victory. When all was said and done, no ships had been hit and no one had been hurt on either side. Josh was singularly delighted that he hadn’t been scratched either.
Sims was pleased. Initial reports said that his distraction had worked. The three American light cruisers and five destroyers had made it out into the open sea. They would stop off at Catalina with additional fuel and torpedoes for Nimitz’s submarines and then set out as commerce raiders.
Josh caught the admiral laughing at him. “I told Elise I’d bring you back in one piece and so I will. It was a good night’s work, Lieutenant. The next time, though, we shall stay and sink them.”
CHAPTER 12
“Be seated,” said President Lansing, and the other attendees in the Oval Office sat. “May I assume, gentlemen, that the news is a mixed bag?”
“It usually is,” said General March. “However, that is much better than all the news being dolefully bad.”
“Then begin with the bad. What in God’s name happened in the mountains? Have our efforts been undone by one man?”
March sighed, “Pretty much. One German officer, a Captain Wulfram, managed to drop the bridge over the Columbia River into said river. It will take at least two months of concerted effort to repair it once the weather eases. Sadly, we had pretty much cleared the snow out of the passes and were going to commence sending trains through again. Hundreds of men on both sides of the mountains had been shoveling night and day.”
“The man must have been exceptionally brave, or foolish,” the president said. “What is his status?”
“He is very seriously wounded,” March continued. “He is on his way to a hospital in Chicago. Frostbite has claimed both of his feet and he may lose a leg to wounds and infection. And this poses a question, sir. Since he was not in uniform, shall we hang him?”
Lansing paused. He had not been prepared for the question. Nor was he quite prepared to hang someone, in particular someone who was so bravely and obstinately doing his duty. “No, at least not yet. We will hold him as a possible future bargaining chip. Although,” he smiled, “if we should decide to hang him we will do so from a railroad trestle.”
The others laughed grimly. Nothing like a little macabre humor to brighten the day, Lansing thought.
General March interrupted. “The weapons and ammo are beginning to come off the assembly lines in quantity from Detroit and elsewhere. The original plan was to ship them by rail through the northern pass to Washington State and then down to California. With this out of the question for the foreseeable future, can we plan on using Canadian rail lines as a substitute?”
An interesting question, thought Lansing. He turned to his Secretary of State, “Any thoughts, Mr. Hughes?”
“We have spoken with both the governor general and the prime minister of Canada and they are reluctant to have large quantities of supplies shipped directly through Canada. They are afraid of retaliation from the German fleet if they are found out. However, they will allow humanitarian aid, such as food, and will assist us in evacuating civilians and wounded.”