The frigate’s lookouts must all be blind, thought Richardson, as for the fourth time in three hours he elevated Eel’s periscope well above the wave tops to give them every possible opportunity to see it. Sonar conditions must be abominable. The tincan swept on heedlessly, pinging loudly, surely getting a good return echo, but giving no sign of having any contact whatsoever. His intention to be discovered only while Eel’s stern with its two loaded torpedoes was directed toward the enemy had caused him to forgo an equal number of other opportunities, when a depth charge attack might have developed from a disadvantageous bearing. Also, he had been forced to keep a close eye on the patrol bomber, which was swinging in wide circles around the general vicinty. The plane had never, however, given Eel an opportunity to use the smoke float; for this, it must approach close enough to the submarine’s position to have plausibly dropped it. At some point the plane would turn low on fuel, having been in the air since before dawn.
It was now late afternoon. The convoy must have headed west again, and, with a four-hour head start, it was lengthening its distance every moment. Probably it had soon changed to the south once more, and would again follow the same pattern as previously, giving the latest area of contact a wide berth before finally settling down to an easterly course toward the coast of Korea.
The patrol bomber was coming in low, the first time it had come in so low. Eel’s stern pointed nearly toward the destroyer. Distance, perhaps five miles away. He had the periscope low again, so low that every other wave either blocked his view entirely or covered the periscope with yellow water. The plane was passing fairly close, though not overhead. Its pilot could not have seen the periscope. Since it would be sunset in an hour, perhaps this was to be the aircraft’s last pass through the area before heading for base.
‘Stand by with the smoke candle!”
If he could be sure the patrol plane had no more depth bombs, he might risk letting him see the periscope and drop a smoke candle of his own. But of this he could not be sure. Eel would be forced to go deep when evidence of a real attack run developed. Once forced deep by the plane and under persistent depth charge attack from the Mikura, there might never be a chance to return to periscope depth. Eel’s own smoke candle would simulate one from the plane, but the pilot would know he had not dropped it and — just possibly — might be able to communicate the fact to the escort skipper. The thing to do was to fire it just after the plane had passed, but without the pilot being able to see it. Richardson cursed his indecision. Twice he had run through the same debate and passed up a possible opportunity, fearing it would be too obvious. Again he watched the plane pass by, low to the water, a mile and a half or two miles away. This was the closest it had come yet. Then, gradually gaining in altitude, it flew off to the west. He waited a few seconds. This might be the moment, but there would still be time for the plane to reverse course and return to the scene if he acted prematurely. When it had diminished to a relatively small silhouette in the cloudless sky, he ordered the smoke float loaded into the ejector and fired. A feeling of almost detached curiosity as to what the results would be took possession of him.
It was almost a minute before the smoke functioned. Richardson was about to write it off as a dud, when suddenly there was a tiny cloud of white smoke blossoming on the water some distance astern.
“Sixty feet,” he ordered. This would give nearly seven feet of periscope for the destroyer to look at. He would need it, for the lengthening shadows of growing twilight were drawing near.
Signs of incipient activity on the escort. He had seen the smoke. Slowly, almost leisurely, he approached it. No doubt the destroyer’s skipper was puzzled how it came to be there. He would think the plane had dropped it after all, and that perhaps it was merely delayed in going off. It would be hard to imagine it deliberately being placed there by the submarine he was looking for. Richardson could feel the tenseness of his own state of mind, his own fatigue (which he must not show), the dependence which he was placing upon this stratagem. Carefully he maneuvered so that Eel’s stern pointed directly at the tincan’s bow.
“Destroyer screws have speeded up,” said Stafford. “He’s shifted to short-scale pinging! Starting a run!” Stafford’s voice, as usual, betrayed his rising excitement. Veteran though he was, he would never — nor would Richardson — be able to discount the potential lethality of a well-delivered depth charge salvo.
“Make your depth six-five feet, Control.” He could hear the whine of the TDC behind him as Buck Williams set in the information, relayed from Stafford, from Keith, from himself, at the periscope.
“Gyros are three left,” said Keith. “Torpedo run is nine hundred yards. We still have to flood the tubes and open the outer doors — what’s the matter, Captain?”
“We can’t shoot,” said Richardson in a weary, exasperated tone. “He’s zigzagging.” With only two torpedoes left, Eel must fire only when there was certainty of hitting. This meant a “down-the-throat” shot with all data static: bow to bow or, as in this case, stern to bow. A sinuating, weaving course, such as the escort was now using, made the chance of missing too great. Rich motioned with his thumbs for the periscope to be dropped a foot. He squatted down with it, continuing to look through it from a stooped position. “He thinks we’ve gone deep,” he said. “He’s coming in so slow he can’t have set his charges shallow. They’d blow his own stern off. So we’ll cross him up by staying at periscope depth. Range, mark!” He turned the range knob on the side of the periscope.
“Range nine-two-oh yards,” said Keith. “Torpedo run seven-five-oh.”
“Shut all watertight doors,” said Richardson. “Here he comes!” He had in the meantime directed Al Dugan to run one foot lower in the water, at sixty-six-foot keel depth instead of sixty-five. This permitted Richardson to stand with less of a stoop as he kept the periscope at the lowest possible height from which, between toppling waves, he could still see his adversary. “He’s going to pass astern close aboard, but a clean miss if I ever saw one — there he goes! He’s dropping now!” It was unprecedented for a submarine captain to observe his own depth charging, although it had been done (at much greater range) during depth charge indoctrination drills at Pearl Harbor. The thought did not at all occur to Richardson until much later. “This chap must be an absolute amateur. He’s attacking our wake instead of a solid contact. He’s made a clean miss by at least fifty yards!”
The periscope was under more than it was out of water. Richardson’s view of the enemy ship was a series of fleeting glimpses rather than a steady inspection. At this close range, better perspective was provided by the periscope in low power. The tincan was new-looking — war-construction obviously — painted overall a dull gray. Her most outstanding feature was the characteristically Japanese undulating deck line — extra design and construction effort with no apparent operational payoff. The deck curved sharply upward at the bow, which was widely flared for seakeeping ability, and upon the forecastle was mounted a large, long-barreled, destroyer-type deck gun. Her hull was metal — the welding seams and characteristic “oil-canning” of the thin steel were clear to be seen — but the heavy, squat bridge structure and mast appeared to be of wood. Between waves rolling over the periscope, Richardson could see the bridge personnel, all staring aft, some with binoculars. Men on deck and around the now empty depth charge racks were also staring over the stern into the water, obviously waiting for the depth charges to detonate. Abaft the mast was a single, exaggeratedly fat, stubby stack projecting from a low deckhouse, but no smoke or exhaust gases could be seen issuing from it. On the contrary, an exhaust of some kind was coming out from a large black opening in the side of the ship under the after portion of the main deck.