Shipley and Arneau joined them. Logan straightened and with a smile handed the message to Shipley. Shipley took it and looked at Logan. “Tell me what it says.”
“Well, sir, it says Soviet submarines usually enter and exit Kola Bay on the surface.”
Shipley looked at Arneau. “Seems we already have that figured out.” He looked at Logan. “And did they say anything about the operating depths inside Kola Bay?”
“They are asking C&G Survey if they have any data.”
Shipley handed the message back to Logan. “By the time we get that answer, we will be able to answer it ourselves.” He looked down at the chart. “Okay, how far are we from our objective?”
Van Ness nodded at Logan. “I have done a dead-reckoning course from when we turned to where Lieutenant Logan’s intelligence data show the facility to be. I recommend. .”
For the next few minutes Lieutenant Van Ness recommended two course turns at specified times if they continued at eight knots. The last turn would bring them up at approximately five hundred yards from the facility that overhead reconnaissance flights had photographed.
Shipley looked at Logan. “Is this going to be close enough?”
“It should be, sir. We have to surface so the air samplers can operate.”
Shipley looked at Arneau, then at Van Ness. “What time will we be arriving off the objective?” He knew that. The main induction valves could be opened only when the submarine was surfaced. Let’s hope this fog holds, Shipley thought.
“We should be directly offshore of it by zero six hundred, Skipper.”
“That’ll give us about an hour of darkness before the faint Arctic dawn rises,” Arneau said.
Shipley turned back to Logan. “How long will you need to take sufficient samples and get your photographs? I don’t want to hang around here too long, and I would like to get out of the Soviets’ backyard as soon as possible.”
“Sir, we need only about thirty minutes, an hour at the most.” Shipley did a sharp shake of the head. “Lieutenant, we are going to be surfaced while you gather your air samples. I want to know as soon as you have sufficient samples so we can submerge and head for open water.”
Shipley looked at Arneau, then back to Logan. “If we get there and the place is crawling with patrol craft or it looks as if we are going to be detected, we are going to submerge. As long as we can, we’ll remain in the vicinity until we can accomplish the mission at hand.”
“Hopefully the fog will hide us,” Logan offered.
“Fog is like sex, Mister Logan; one moment it sends waves of anticipation and worried excitement all over you, and the next moment it’s gone.”
Behind Logan, Shipley saw Boohan turn and look. The master chief mouthed as a question the words “worried excitement” before the chief of the boat turned back to the planesmen.
“Sir, I have to do two things with the air samplers,” Logan answered. “One is measure the radiation around this source. The other is to circulate the air from the outside through the sampler long enough for the filters to capture whatever is in the air. Additionally—”
“ ‘Additionallys’ are like ‘buts,’ Mister Logan. There are none on my boat. Try to get everything you need within twenty minutes. While you’re photographing and gathering, be prepared to disconnect immediately. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Logan answered, then after a slight pause added, “Sir, if we are going to be surfaced, then can we take the photographs topside?”
“Why have you been practicing to use the periscope if you want to do it topside?”
“I didn’t think we would have the opportunity, sir,” Logan replied with a shrug.
“Sir, I recommend they use the periscope,” Arneau interjected.
“Why?” Shipley asked.
“The periscope will give Lieutenant Logan’s people a higher point of view on the facility. The periscope will allow them to magnify any points of interest, but most importantly, if we are detected, the fewer people and equipment topside, the quicker we can dive.”
Shipley turned back to Logan. “I think the XO has answered your request.”
“Depth beneath the hull is past eight hundred feet, sir. No ping returning,” Boohan said from across the small conning tower compartment.
Shipley looked up, his eyes seeing the thermometer. It now read nearly twenty-five degrees. He lifted the coffee and took a drink, enjoying the taste. The initial warmth of the liquid was quickly dissipating in the below-freezing conditions of the conning tower.
“Skipper, it’s going to be about five hours before we arrive at the objective,” Arneau started.
“You’re right, XO. Go below and catch some winks. I need you fresh when we arrive.”
“Sir, I was thinking. .” The XO went on to propose that Shipley take the first sleep, arguing that the skipper had the first and last watches topside. Shipley needed the rest, and the boat would need him once they arrived on station.
Shipley wanted to continue the argument, but realized that if he failed to take advantage of a few hours of sleep now, he would be exhausted if they had to do an escape and evasion. He bit his lip for a moment before nodding. “Wake me in three hours.”
“Four,” Arneau said, holding up four fingers.
Shipley nodded. “Not one minute past four, and call me to the bridge if anything happens. I don’t want any surprises.”
“Sorry, Skipper,” Logan said.
Shipley looked at the young officer and raised one eyebrow. He sighed. “Not your fault, Lieutenant Logan. We are all victims of emergent circumstances. Maybe in our lessons learned report once we’re back at Holy Loch we can recommend if they intend to do this again, they make it a regularly scheduled mission so crews — both yours and the submarine force — can work it up properly.” He nearly added, if we get back. Hopefully the Navy would find a better way to do these i ntelligence-gathering missions than endangering a submarine in Soviet waters.
A minute later Shipley was through the hatch and in the control room. He spent a few minutes to check on things, then headed forward. He took his foul-weather coat off and then lay down on the narrow rack, pulling the coat over him. He was asleep within seconds.
Anton stepped away from the periscope. “Periscope down.”
The sound of hydraulics lowering the submarine filled the conning tower. He looked at Gesny. “You think we will need a conning tower once we have atomic-powered submarines, XO?”
Gesny shrugged. “They will have to make the periscopes longer.”
“If we can have atomic power”—he lifted his hands, palms outstretched—“and this warmth. Can you believe with the Arctic only feet from us, we have this much warmth?”
“You may be right, Comrade Captain.”
“Periscope down,” Ensign Rybin, his voice low, said from near the planesmen.
“Speak up!” Gesny snapped. “Everyone must be able to hear your commands when you are the officer of the deck.”
“Green board!” came the voice from the control room.
Anton nodded.
Gesny shouted, “Very well!”
Even though they had not surfaced because of the weather, they were simulating taking the boat down from a surface position.
“Make our depth fifteen meters, XO.” Anton glanced at the clock on the bulkhead. It was nearly 0500. Daylight in another couple of hours would bring a slightly brighter day, but one that could confuse whether it was dawn, dusk, or midday because the light was the same. Darkness reigned for most of the winter months.
“Aye, sir.” Gesny turned to Rybin. “Officer of the deck! Make depth fifteen meters!”
“Bow planes ten degrees!” Rybin shouted.
Anton smiled.
“That’s more like it, Ensign!” Gesny shouted, glancing at Anton.