It was obligatory, however, to inform Blunt that he had determined to devote a day to drilling Eel’s crew. Acquiescence was surprisingly reluctant, even for this unassailable position.
It had never been a part of his old skipper’s previous character to oppose training or drills of any kind. Quite the reverse. There was something under cover, some syndrome of fatigue in him, which Richardson must think about and try to alleviate. The voyage across the Pacific had been more of a strain than Richardson remembered from previous patrols, but as the day’s work began, with Buck Williams on the TDC, Keith Leone as assistant approach officer, Stafford on the sonar, and Quin, the yeoman, wearing the battle telephone headset, he began to renew the confidence he had felt the last days in Pearl. Larry Lasche was assigned to the automatic plotting table in the after part of the conning tower, opposite the TDC — unfortunately with his back to Buck, with whom he was to coordinate, but this could not be helped. Young Rogers, fresh out of high school and an electronic hobbyist since childhood, was on the radar console. In the forward end of the conning tower, Scott was on the helm as before, with Oregon, senior quartermaster, on one side keeping the log, and Quin on the other.
Immediately beneath the hatch leading to the control room, on the port side of the control room, was the ship’s diving station, where at battle stations Al Dugan held sway, assisted by Chief Starberg at the hydraulic manifold a few feet to his right. Sargent, number two in the auxiliary gang under Starberg, operated the air manifold across the compartment, on the starboard side of the control room. Communication with Dugan was through the open hatch or by telephone — or by the ship’s general announcing system.
As the day’s drills progressed, Richardson could feel the sinews of control tighten, their cohesiveness renew itself. The sharp edge of readiness, so painstakingly instilled, had been whetted.
During night surface approaches, the fundamental difference in stations was that Dugan and Richardson, along with a specially selected set of lookouts, moved to the bridge. Should it be necessary to dive, Richardson would drop into the conning tower, while Al Dugan and the lookouts, descending an additional level, would simply shift to the submerged condition at the diving station.
For surface gun action, day or night, however, the procedure was very different. Certain deck hatches would have to be open. A large number of men would be on deck to serve the two five-inch guns, plus extra men on the bridge for the automatic weapons. Immediate diving would not be possible. In an emergency it would be necessary to sacrifice guns and ammunition left topside. Exercising the guns with Eel already near to possible enemy air patrols would be unnecessarily hazardous. Richardson decided against it. The guns, so seldom used anyway, would have to go with whatever residual readiness remained from the training already received.
Deep in Richardson’s mind, underlying the strenuous activities of the day, were Admiral Small’s words about the impending operation against Iwo Jima and Okinawa. It was of maximum importance to the U.S. cause to prevent any possible Kwantung Army reinforcement of the troops already in these two islands. The day’s workout was just what Eel’s crew needed to get them fully geared up for what might lie ahead.
Two weeks after leaving Pearl Harbor, having transited at night through the Nampo Shoto south of Iwo Jima, the three submarines separately passed north of Okinawa, timing their transit of the Ryukyu chain again for the dark hours. After a short detour to avoid a reputed mine field, they headed up on a northwesterly course into the operating area. During the entire voyage, neither ship nor plane had been seen.
That night, after the debris of the evening meal had been cleared away, Richardson deliberately brought the conversation around to the business at hand.
“Commodore,” he said, “Keith and I have been studying our area and reading up on the dope ComSubPac put in the operation order.” Keith produced a rolled up chart which he spread out on the table. “The two main Japanese focal points for shipping to and from China are Shanghai and Tsingtao. There is a little traffic, too, out of Tientsin, up here in the Gulf of Pohai. These three ports are pretty far apart.”
“Yes, I know,” said Blunt, stuffing tobacco from a pouch into his pipe.
“So it looks to us that the smart thing for the Japanese to do, considering the submarine danger, is to stay as close inshore as possible. These island chains shown here along the coast of Korea, west side and south side, practically provide an inland passage for them. There’s a beautiful one here on the west coast, the Maikotsu Suido. The track charts of subs previously in the Yellow Sea show that our boats have seldom gone after them there.
“Any ships departing Tsingtao for Japan will most likely hug the coast of the Shantung Peninsula on a northeasterly course until they get to the narrowest part of the Yellow Sea. They’ll run across at full speed, up here near the tip of the peninsula, and then head south along the Korean coast and through the Maikotsu Suido. The shortest route is of course straight across to the southwest tip of Korea and then into the Shimonoseki Strait and the Inland Sea, but from their point of view it’s also the most foolish. The smart thing for all ships, including those from Shanghai, is to run up the coast of China and cross at the narrowest possible place. Once they know we’re in the area, they might run even farther north, into the Gulf of Pohai.”
Keith nodded his agreement.
Richardson dropped his voice. “Almost surely, Tsingtao will be the departure point for Kwantung Army divisions deploying to the war zone. That’s the place we should watch most closely. But we don’t want to be too obviously blockading it, because that would alert the enemy and increase the escort forces they’ll provide.”
Blunt, using his thumb to pack the tobacco into his pipe, said nothing. After a moment’s pause, Rich continued.
“So, what we should do is blockade Tsingtao from a distance. We should send one boat into the Maikotsu Suido right away. It will be the ideal place to start. The other two, patrolling outside to the north and south, will be in position to take care of any ships diverting outside. If we hear anything from ComSubPac, all of us will be able to reach Tsingtao very—”
“Maybe so,” interrupted Blunt, lighting his pipe and puffing. “But we haven’t had any submarines in the Yellow Sea at all for a while. I think the Japs are probably running straight across, where there’ll be more sea room. Anyway, that’s where I want to start, where we can surface patrol for maximum coverage. Set up the regular patrol line, oriented north and south. We should be in position by morning. Something will turn up in a couple of days.”
Abruptly he heaved himself up from the settee, drained his coffee cup, and walked out of the wardroom.
Richardson found Keith looking at him with a puzzled expression. “What was that about?” he said. “He didn’t even listen. What’s this business about sea room? Is he ticked off about something?”
Richardson shook his head. “Not that I know of,” he said. “Probably he knows a lot about what they’re doing that we don’t.” But the uneasy feeling had begun to grow again.