Six fifty-caliber mounts had been installed on the bridge also, three on each side, with stowages for the three demountable guns arranged nearby. From the center area of the bridge, protected by its armored siding, a very respectable fusillade could be maintained in case of necessity. Repeated drills had been held for all guns. All-in-all, Eel could fire a great arsenal of weapons if it came to surface gun action.
Under Keith’s supervision, the bridge lookout platforms now had an upturned edging, or rim, that the men could feel with their toes. This would give them a feeling of security when the ship began rolling in a seaway, and in consequence they would keep a more effective watch. To facilitate quick descent from the lookout stations, sections of pipe had been installed in the manner of firemen’s poles. The guard rails within which they stood had been made smaller and raised several inches so that they could also function as arm rests while binoculars were held at eye level. Reduction of arm fatigue and of concern for holding on as the ship rolled, Keith had argued, was the answer to the lookout weariness which had worried them.
Below decks little visible change had been accomplished, except that the top of the shower in the forward torpedo room had been restored to its proper dimensions. Richardson had thought of offering his own stateroom to Captain Blunt in deference to his rank, but after discussion with Keith had not done so. “You’re still captain of this ship,” Keith had said. “You’ll need all those dials, call buttons and squawk boxes, and he won’t. When the OOD needs you, he’ll need you very much, and we’ve got to have you right at the other end!” It was this last argument that convinced him.
The matter had never been discussed with the wolfpack commander. Perhaps it should have been, thought Richardson uneasily, when, to everyone’s surprise. Blunt insisted on taking the least desirable bunk, that on the wardroom transom, even though there was a spare bunk in one of the staterooms. It was not until determined protest had been made, pointing out that this would greatly reduce the usefulness of the wardroom for early breakfasts and late coffee, as well as its myriad other functions, that he permitted himself to be assigned one of the three bunks in Keith’s room, across the passageway from Rich.
During the refit the biggest job, involving the most anxiety, had been the overhaul of the hydraulic system. It had been taken apart completely and thoroughly inspected. Nothing specific had been found wrong except slight scoring on the inner walls of the accumulator. When put back together, the entire system had been pronounced perfect. All during the training period it had functioned as predicted, its cycling time restored to the original specifications. It would cause no further trouble, the relief crew skipper had said. Al Dugan, when asked privately, expressed the same opinion, but Richardson, looking back later on their brief conversation, could recall a fleeting impression that Dugan had less than full confidence in his own words.
The other major improvement was the installation of one of the new radar periscopes. Unfortunately, its top was considerably larger than that of the original night periscope which it replaced; inclusion of radar had necessitated a four-foot reduction in effective length, and removal of the optical range-finder. To obtain a radar range, which was the only kind it could get, the now club-headed instrument had to be raised several feet higher out of water than had been necessary with the old optical periscopes.
But the radar periscope did give very precise ranges, and Richardson had practiced assiduously with it, along with Rogers, the teen-aged operator who came aboard with it from the Fleet Radar School. Fortunately, the attack periscope was still the old type with a very thin, tapered head, almost invisible if adroitly used. For the latter stages of a submerged attack, Richardson had resolved, he would revert to the optical system to gain the advantages of deeper submergence and a less visible periscope.
In sum, a truly extraordinary amount of work had been done on Eel during the refit period. Her new paint job topside and all her new equipment had virtually made her a new submarine. Satisfaction filled her skipper, tempered by the realization that with Blunt aboard he would not be entirely her master. Something else was nagging the back of his mind also, something unstated, unarticulated. The controversy over Blunt’s bunk had been a minor thing. But was it indicative of something, a state of mind maybe? Surely it was not worthy of further thought. Blunt probably had not intended to appear disappointed. Probably Richardson had misread him. Best put all this behind, lay it to the pressures and problems of Pearl Harbor.
He would concentrate on the thought that a certain degree of relaxation would be his during the patrol to come, for the big decisions to attack or not to attack, to risk his life and that of his crew, or not to do so, would be made by someone else. And as his own responsibility decreased, his freedom of mind to think through the dilemmas of the past two months would be correspondingly greater. He should be able to follow Blunt’s lead implicitly, as he had before in the Octopus. Once Blunt had shaken off the miasma of Pearl Harbor, he would be his old self again. The weight of Richardson’s responsibility would be confined only to the efficient operation of the Eel as a submarine.
Even as he rehearsed the thought, however, it occurred to him that on the other hand perhaps the worst thing would be to have nothing to occupy his mind as he lay sleepless in his bunk, studying the shadowed metal walls surrounding him. This had been his trouble on the way back from the last patrol. It had become progressively worse the farther Eel voyaged from the battle zone.
As night came on, he almost dreaded the prospect of once again lying there sleepless, the memory of Pearl Harbor’s activity — and Joan — fading, while all the familiar objects and sounds associated with that difficult trip home were free to reassert their depressing dominance.
The three submarines, proceeding on parallel but well separated tracks, did not sight each other until they rendezvoused for refueling at Midway Island.
Next morning they set forth again, running separately and in radio silence. Blunt had decided there had been adequate exercise in convoy techniques and there need be no drills en route to the patrol area. All submarines were to run as fast as they could consistent with safety and conservation of fuel, remaining on the surface at all times except for morning dives to get a trim or — after entry into enemy waters — when submerging to avoid detection.
The days passed with monotony as the three submarines approached the far western Pacific. With increasing urgency Richardson began to make the point that some coordinated drills were essential to maintain the unity of the newly created wolfpack. There need be little loss of time, virtually no additional expenditure of fuel. The three members of Blunt’s Bruisers had had no joint operating experience except for the short time together at Pearl. To his surprise, his arguments had no noticeable effect. Blunt listened, but with scant attention, saying only that rest was necessary for everyone before entering enemy controlled waters. Then everything would fall into place.
The second cup of coffee after dinner in Eel’s tiny wardroom became the occasion for a daily discussion. Near-pleading by Richardson, stubborn refusal by his superior. Twice Richardson privately cautioned Leone not to try to help. Emotion was creeping into the disputation; it would be the wrong thing to do.
With the first landfall on Japanese-held islands due in four days, Richardson changed debate tactics, concentrated on the needs of Eel herself. Every skipper had the right and duty to satisfy himself as to the state of training of his crew. This was his responsibility, not that of the wolfpack commander. The skippers of Chicolar and Whitefish, traveling out of sight, were making such decisions for themselves. Eel’s crew must not be allowed to go stale. It was purely a matter for each individual ship. He would carry out a full day’s drill, lasting from before dawn until long after sunset. Convoy exercises were not involved. Blunt need pay no attention, could remain in the wardroom.