Jamie, Fiorini, and scores of others stepped from the deck into the water. They swam toward floating debris while the doomed battleship moved slowly past them with stately dignity as shells continued to rain down, killing many of the men in the water. Jamie thanked the facts that he had his life jacket on and that he was an excellent swimmer.
When he reached the debris, he gathered several dozen survivors and lashed debris together to form a raft. While they worked, the Pennsylvania continued to absorb punishment as she turned slowly away from the men floating in the water. Either someone was making a heroic charge at the enemy or the ship’s rudder was stuck. Jamie thought it was the rudder. He didn’t think anyone was in control of the battleship. Looking at the now burning hulk, he doubted that anyone was even alive, much less guiding the vessel.
Jamie watched as the uneven struggle ended. Fiorini continued to take pictures, and Jamie wondered how he’d kept his camera dry.
“Rubber pouch” was the answer. Fiorini then unloaded the film and put it in the pouch. The camera he tossed into the ocean. “No more film.”
Moments later the Pennsylvania sank by the bow with the giant Japanese battleship virtually alongside her. When it was over, the Japanese ships began to pick up American survivors. Jamie’s party was a couple of miles away by this time, but they had no hopes of going undetected.
“We’re gonna be prisoners?” Fiorini asked. “I think I’d rather stay in the water and take my chances with the sharks.”
Jamie had heard how the Japs treated their prisoners and prayed he’d survive the ordeal.
“They’re leaving,” someone yelled. It was true. The Jap ships were all turning away at high speed and leaving them in the water. When they were several miles away, the giant battleship must have spotted their group and opened fire with its smaller-caliber secondary batteries. That their target was tiny kept the survivors from being directly hit, but the splashes and concussion knocked them all off their improvised rafts and into the water.
Jamie pulled himself back onto some debris. Fiorini bobbed up beside him and handed him the camera pouch. Jamie took it and was about to pull Fiorini out of the water when another shell landed nearby, covering him with spray and nearly knocking him back into the ocean. Fiorini’s face registered surprise and went slack. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he disappeared into the ocean. The concussion from the shell had created a surge of water pressure that had squashed the life out of him and somehow spared Jamie.
The firing ceased. The Japanese were almost out of sight and over the horizon. Jamie counted about twenty survivors, many of whom were badly hurt. A second tally told him that he was the only officer, and that there was no food or water.
He laughed bitterly. He was the commander of the crew of the Pennsylvania. At least the killing had stopped. Now all they had to do was survive.
Admiral Chester Nimitz established his command at San Diego, which disappointed some of his officers, who’d hoped they’d get to stay at the larger and more cosmopolitan city of San Francisco. San Diego had a population of just under 150,000, while San Francisco was more than four times larger.
Almost on the Mexican border, San Diego possessed a fine harbor, and a marine base as well as an existing naval base. Nimitz’s move was administrative and had nothing to do with the location of the fleet. Except for a handful of cruisers and destroyers, there were no major war-ships in the narrow harbor overlooked by the admiral’s temporary office.
This day, Nimitz did not see the bay or anything else. His eyes were focused on the report in his hand, and, since he was alone, he made no effort to stop the tears that streamed down his face.
The report confirmed what they had feared-the loss of the Pennsylvania and four destroyers with all hands. It was a catastrophe on a par with Pearl Harbor. The American public didn’t know about it yet, but desperate calls for help had been sent in the clear and had been picked up by shortwave radios. Amateur radios were supposed to have been shut down, but there were still a number of them listening. There would have to be a reckoning and an explanation, and it would have to come soon. Even with the battleship’s crew at less than full strength, the combined crews were in excess of a thousand souls.
Incredibly, because of the chaos at Pearl Harbor, no one was certain who was on the Pennsylvania and who wasn’t. That infuriated Nimitz. No one should have to die anonymously.
There was a tap on the door, and Admiral Raymond Spruance entered. He had been commanding Halsey’s cruisers when Nimitz ordered him back to California. Spruance was a quiet man, but extremely intelligent and decisive. If Halsey was a bull, Spruance was the thinker. In only a short while, Nimitz had come to depend on Spruance’s abilities.
Spruance crossed the office and discreetly looked out the window. It gave Nimitz an opportunity to wipe his eyes.
“The Japs have pulled their ships back to the west of Hawaii,” Spruance said. “This’ll give us a chance to send out floatplanes and look for survivors. I doubt there’ll be any, but we’ll give it a try.”
Nimitz nodded. Could it get any worse? he wondered.
In the Philippines, MacArthur’s army was pinned on the Bataan Peninsula and the island of Corregidor. They would surrender in a matter of weeks, a couple of months at the most. MacArthur had been ordered to leave Corregidor so he would not be taken prisoner and paraded through Tokyo as a trophy.
In the southern Pacific, a small American naval force had joined with other small forces from the Dutch and Royal navies. Under a Dutch admiral, they would try to blunt the Japanese offensive in that area. Nimitz thought their task was hopeless.
The British army was retreating down the Malayan peninsula toward the city of Singapore, and it looked like a disaster there as well. Churchill had proclaimed the place a fortress that would be held at all costs, but everyone knew better.
In both the Philippines and Malaya, the Japanese army had outfought and outmaneuvered the Americans and the British. This did not bode well for the fate of Hawaii.
At least, Nimitz thought with some satisfaction, he had only the Pacific to worry about. The situation in the Atlantic was no less dire, with German subs ravaging American shipping all along the eastern seaboard and up the larger rivers. In Europe, both England and Russia were reeling under Nazi attacks.
“Opportunity,” Nimitz said.
“What?” Spruance asked quizzically.
“Pearl Harbor and all that has followed is not an unmitigated disaster.”
“Some’ll disagree with that.”
“Let them,” Nimitz said firmly. “Tell me, Ray. How many battleships have been sunk or damaged by Jap carriers?”
“Nine or ten, depending on how the British count battleships,” Spruance answered. “Eight of ours and at least one British.”
“And how many carriers have been sunk?”
Spruance grinned. He knew where this was going. “None.”
“Right. Now who the devil needs battleships when they keep on sinking?” Nimitz shuffled papers on his desk until he came up with the right one. “Look, we began this war with seventeen battleships to the Japs’ ten or eleven. We’ve lost eight, at least temporarily, but have fifteen under construction. In a year, two at the most, we will have overwhelming superiority in battleships.”