“The Exec told him. They must have talked a lot about it. The Exec is worried that if we turn any fish in to the Base at Pearl we’ll all get a General Court for modifying the exploders. The Old Man says not to worry, he’s going to shoot all the fish!”
“Hot damn!” Ginty said. “Sounds good!” He sat down in the canvas chair.
“It won’t sound so good if those exploders don’t work,” Rhodes said.
“They got to work!” Ginty rumbled. “Once these babies are armed, once this warhead hits anything with four pounds of impact force, that exploder is gonna work! You’re gonna hear the biggest fucking noise you ever heard!” He reached up and patted the dull bronze 600-pound warhead that loomed over him. “This baby will make the biggest noise in the world if the Old Man can find anything to shoot it at and if he can hit it!”
“He isn’t a bad shot,” Rhodes said. “He made some nice approaches on those targets on the first patrol. And we got hits with those two fish that were set for two feet. He said he saw the fish hit the side of the ship and then bounce up in the air and fall away without exploding.”
“He says he saw that,” Ginty snorted. “Wasn’t no one but him lookin’ through the periscope!”
“Lieutenant Cohen was on the sound gear,” Rhodes said. “He said he tracked the fish right into the target.”
“Him!” Ginty said derisively. “What the fuck does he know? Fucking Reserve feather merchant! He ain’t a sailor! What was he in civilian life, some sort of preacher?”
“He was studying to be a Rabbi,” Rhodes answered.
“Rabbi? That’s a Jew preacher, ain’t it? So what does he know about torpedoes and submarines? You know what that silly fuck told me one day? He said he could hear shrimp on the sound gear! How the hell can you hear shrimp? They can’t swim! What do they do, talk to him in Jew talk?”
“They click their tails when they move along the bottom,” Rhodes said. His voice sharpened a trifle. “And lay off using that word ‘Jew.’ It isn’t polite. People can be sensitive about things like that.”
“I’ve got a sensitive ass,” Ginty growled. “And I’d like to get off my ass and open these outer doors and shoot these babies!”
“I think you’re going to get your wish,” Rhodes said slowly. “In fact, I’d bet money on it. Just keep your fingers crossed that the exploders work!”
Chapter 2
The blast of the diving klaxon sent the Mako sliding down under the sea before the first light of the false dawn. Captain Hinman stood in the Conning Tower, waiting until the diving officer had leveled the ship off at 63 feet. Then he cautiously raised the periscope and began a methodical search of the horizon. As he finished, Mike Brannon’s voice came up to him through the hatch.
“Crew is at Battle Stations, sir. Torpedo tube doors are closed. Repeat closed. We should be at the approach to the harbor entrance in twenty minutes. Sunrise should be in twenty-four minutes. When the headland on our starboard hand bears zero five zero, sir, we’ll have to make a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn to port and proceed on the reverse course. We should have time to run in, run out and run in again before the sun gets too high to blind anyone looking for our periscope.”
“Very well,” Captain Hinman said.
The Mako slid silently through the water. As the ship neared the mouth of the harbor, Captain Hinman, searching the area to his stern, flinched at the blaze of the rising sun in the lens of the periscope.
“The sun is up now, Control. Bring me up another ten feet. Slowly! I don’t want to broach!” He nodded at Chief Yeoman John Maxwell who stood in the after end of the Conning Tower with a notebook and pencil ready.
“Stand by, John. Take down everything I say.” He swung the periscope through another complete turn, examining the sea and the sky. Then he steadied the lens on the harbor. Maxwell saw the muscles of Hinman’s shoulders bunch under his thin khaki shirt.
“I see one… three… six, seven… nine… eleven oil tankers in the harbor!” Hinman’s voice was crisp. “Five of those ships are in the center of the harbor. I can’t tell from this distance and angle whether they are moored or anchored. Estimated tonnage of those five ships ranges from five to eight thousand tons.
“There are two ships at docks at the far end of the harbor. These are much larger ships, look to be twice the size of those in the middle of the harbor. The five tankers in the middle of the harbor appear to be fully loaded.
“There are four destroyers underway in the harbor! One of the destroyers is very large, estimate it to be a Fubuki destroyer leader.” He pulled the periscope around. “Headland now bears zero five zero, Control. Commence your turn to port.” He swung the periscope back to the harbor.
“The four destroyers have formed up and are now standing this way, coming toward the harbor mouth! The Fubuki is in the lead!” He began to turn the periscope to the right as the Mako began to turn left.
“I’ll stay at this depth for two more minutes,” he said to the Control Room. “When I give you the word take me back down to sixty-three feet. Here we go again, Chief. I see four ships deep in the harbor, this is in addition to the others recorded. These ships are either anchored or moored. All appear to be some sort of freighters, I cannot estimate tonnages from here. There are several warships, destroyers or destroyer leaders moored in a nest. I count six destroyers in that nest.
“The Japanese destroyers are now nearing the mouth of the harbor. Range to the lead destroyer is four zero zero zero yards! Open the outer doors on all torpedo tubes! Take me down to sixty-five feet! Fast!” He slammed the handles on the search periscope into the up position and jammed his thumb against the button that lowered the periscope.
“Left fifteen degrees rudder!” He thumbed the control button to raise the attack periscope, a thin-necked tube with a small viewing lens that left very little wake at slow speeds.
“Sound reports screws bearing two one zero, sir,” Brannon reported.
“Very well,” Hinman said. He handed the periscope control to the quartermaster. “Up slowly, I’ll ride her up.” He crouched down on the deck and as the periscope rose out of its well he snapped the handles down and clamped his face against the rubber eyepiece and rode the periscope upward. The quartermaster watched him carefully, his thumb on the button that would stop the upward travel of the periscope. Hinman saw the solid green water in the lens break into foam and daylight.
“Stop!” Hinman snapped.
“Lead destroyer now bearing zero zero zero! Range is two five zero zero! Helm amidships! Meet her head right there! By God, I don’t think they know we’re here!” He watched the big Fubuki, its high knife-like bow cleaving the water as it passed directly in front of Mako, followed by the three smaller ships.
“They’re going so fast they can’t hear anything on their sound gear,” Hinman said. “Take a fathometer reading, Mike. I want to know how much water we’ve got under our keel over here.”
He heard the muted “ping” of the fathometer and then Mike Brannon’s voice came up through the hatch.
“Forty feet under the keel, sir. Repeat. Four zero feet.” Hinman shuddered. The Mako was in water far too shallow to do any evasive maneuvering. He looked at the line of destroyers again. The Fubuki was now well out of the harbor and picking up speed. He saw a burst of bright color at the Fubuki’s foremast yardman as the ship began a turn to the left, heading north. Similar bursts of color showed at the foremasts of the other three destroyers as they obeyed the turn signal. As the destroyers pulled away, the Mako slid toward the harbor.