“We’ll go right into the harbor mouth,” Hinman called down to the Control Room. “We’ll make a turn to starboard to come out, we know there’s plenty of water in the channel. John, stand by with your pencil. I’ll make another count of the ships.” He ran up the search periscope with its big viewing lens. His ship count was correct. He gave orders to reverse course and looked to the north. He could see the faint outlines of the destroyers, still heading northward.
“Close Torpedo Room outer doors,” he called down to the Control Room. “Mr. Simms, turn the dive over to the Chief of the Watch and come up here and take the deck. Close torpedo tube outer doors. Crew can stand easy on Battle Stations. Cooks can serve coffee now, breakfast later when I give the word. Maintain quiet about the decks. I’ll see Mr. Brannon in the Wardroom in five minutes with his charts. Smoking lamp is lighted.”
Captain Hinman sipped at a cup of black coffee as he studied the chart Brannon had laid out on the Wardroom table. Brannon spooned sugar into his coffee cup and poured canned milk into the cup.
“I want to set up a patrol course along the coast from the harbor north,” Hinman said. “As long as those tin cans are out of sight to the north we can risk fathometer readings as we go. We might need that information later.” He put his thick thumb on the chart. “I’d like to patrol from the harbor to about here, about ten miles up the coast and back again.”
“What do you think they’ll do?” Brannon’s eyes were innocent as he sipped his coffee.
“I saw five tankers in there loaded to their Plimosol marks,” Hinman said. “And a big Fubuki and three other tin cans came out of the harbor and went north. What do you think?”
“I’d say the tin cans are making an anti-submarine sweep, a search,” Brannon said. “That’s what I’d do if I was getting ready to put a convoy out to sea. I’d search the area first.”
Hinman nodded, his face expressionless. “What else?”
“Well, if they don’t find anything and I don’t think they will because there’s not another submarine of ours within five hundred miles of here, they’re all well north of us, I’d say the tin cans will come back and escort some tankers out of the harbor.”
“When? Before or after dark?”
“After dark.” Brannon warmed to the questions he was being asked. “If I were on that Fubuki I’d come back with my other cans and make another sweep around the harbor mouth and then lead out my convoy, form them up and start north. I’d stay close to the land mass so the ship’s outlines couldn’t be picked up against the mountains. There’s good water, deep water all the way in to the beach according to this chart we have. That would be the safest thing for them to do, don’t you think?”
“I’m asking you what you think,” Hinman said. He stood up and stretched hugely.
“He’d be safe from observation from the sea,” Brannon said slowly. “But what he wouldn’t know is that we are in between his ships and the beach!” He looked up at Captain Hinman.
“Exactly!” Hinman said. “I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me if the periscope watch sees anything at all. Secure Battle Stations. Serve breakfast. Maintain quiet about the decks.” He left the Wardroom. Brannon watched him go. He hadn’t said anything about his battle plan. Or had he? Brannon sighed and looked at the chart.
Chapter 3
Mako surfaced after full dark, the water streaming from her superstructure and deck in a silver cascade. Her big diesel engines began hammering out a battery charge as she wallowed on a course close in to the land mass of Borneo. Captain Hinman had been awakened twice during the late afternoon, first with a report that the Fubuki and the other three destroyers had returned and the second time to hear that the four destroyers were conducting an antisubmarine search to the east and south of the harbor.
The Mako had been on the surface for three hours when the stern lookout cleared his throat.
“Running lights bearing one seven zero, Bridge! I’ve got a white masthead light and a red port running light in sight! Moving from our port to starboard.”
“Running lights?” Captain Hinman snapped from his place on the cigaret deck. “Running lights? You sure?”
“Yes sir, Captain,” the lookout called down. “Now I can see another set of running lights behind the first one. There’s two ships back there!”
“Who’s up there on stern lookout?” Hinman asked.
“Grabnas, sir,” the lookout answered. Hinman’s mind flicked over the roster of his crew. Grabnas, Andrew, Seaman First Class. Enlisted in Florida. Worked on his uncle’s shrimp trawler from the time he was a child, a born seaman. He reached upward and grabbed a railing and hauled himself up beside Grabnas. He focused his binoculars and saw the running lights.
“Third ship standing out behind the other two, sir,” Grabnas said. “Now there’s someone sending blinker signals, sir.”
“Very good,” Hinman said. He dropped down to the cigaret deck. “Bridge, ask Mr. Brannon to come up here.”
Hinman pointed astern at the lights, visible now from the cigaret deck.
“Mike, get the Plot going. Use the search ‘scope to get your bearings. I’m going to stay on the surface for a while.”
“Do you want Battle Stations, Captain?”
“I’ll tell you when I want Battle Stations,” Hinman said. “Get the Plot team going right now!”
“Ships are making a left turn, Captain,” Grabnas called.
“Mako your reports to the Officer of the Deck, not to me!” Captain Hinman grated. He heard Brannon leave and focused his glasses on the lights astern. The convoy was probably three ships. He hoped they were oil tankers, some of those he had seen in the harbor that appeared to be loaded. Now the problem that had to be solved was how best could he attack the convoy, granting that the Fubuki and the other three destroyers would be escorting the ships?
He stood at the after rail of the cigaret deck, his square hands gripping the rail. One convoy formation, he reasoned, would be to form up the three ships in a single line. He rejected that idea. Three ships in a line would be too difficult to guard with four escorts. No, the more logical formation would be two of the ships abreast of each other, a thousand yards apart. The third ship astern another thousand yards. The big Fubuki with its superior speed could range out ahead of the convoy to search for enemy submarines.
Where would the Fubuki commander position his other three destroyers? He reasoned out the problem; one destroyer would have to be kept astern of the convoy. There was no danger from the land side so the other two destroyers could be put on the sea side of the convoy. He put his glasses to his eyes and studied the lights of the ships. They had all turned left and were approaching Mako. He looked upward and saw the broad viewing lens of the search periscope turning slowly. Mike Brannon’s voice came up through the bridge hatch, asking for permission to come to the Bridge.
“We’ve got a formation on the convoy, sir,” Brannon said to Hinman. “It looks like there are two ships in line and one astern. We’ve lost sight of the Fubuki. Last time I saw it the ship was out ahead of the first two ships. They’re tankers from the look of them, best as I can see. We have one destroyer aft of the convoy. We assume the other two destroyers are on the sea side of the convoy.”
“That’s what I figured they would do,” Hinman said. “As the Executive Officer, second in command, what should our next move be?”