Eleven days later Tang was back at Miki Saki, with unpleasant memories of the depth charge expert she had encountered there. But the hunting had been elsewhere, and now that the area might be presumed to have cooled off a bit, she was back to try her luck once again. Shortly after midnight the sleek submarine rounded Miki Saki and quietly poked her nose into Owase Wan, a small bay nearby, in quest of a ship. Since by this time it must have become plain to the Japs that they had incurred their worst losses at night, it was logical that at least some of their ships would anchor in a more or less sheltered anchorage to ride the night out, and thus accept the relatively lesser risk of a daylight submerged attack. Tang’s idea was to knock off one of these sitting ducks.
Sure enough! Anchored right in the middle of Owase Wan, unmistakably pointed out by radar, was a ship, rather small, but certainly worth torpedoes.
O.K., chum. Battle stations surface torpedo! The call rings throughout the ship, brings all hands out of their bunks or away from whatever else they might have been doing — it was not unusual for submariners to “turn night into day,” so far as their sleeping habits were concerned when on patrol, and this particularly was the case with Tang, who made most of her fame at night. All hands go to their stations, and a picked crew of gunners mounts to the bridge, there to make ready the twenty-millimeter guns in case it becomes necessary to shoot their way out of shallow water.
First the plotting parties track the ship, to make sure he is at anchor. Correct — speed zero. Then Tang noses in slowly cautiously. It is necessary to get a look at him, to line him up for a broadside shot, so Dick O’Kane takes his ship completely around the enemy, looking him over away from the dark land background. When finally revealed, his silhouette brings a thrill to the skipper. There is no mistaking that long, low shape. This is the gunboat which had given Tang that tooth-shaking barrage of depth charges on her last visit to this area!
Boys, we’re going to get this bastard! He has it coming to him! Tang twists on her heel, presents her stern to the enemy. One electric torpedo is set for an absolutely straight stern shot, aimed carefully, and fired. It leaves a phosphorescent wake in the water, by which its progress may be followed, but the wake stops after 100 yards of travel, and a loud rumble is heard over Tang’s sound gear, indicating that it has suddenly dived to the bottom. One wasted.
Two minutes after the first one, a second electric torpedo is fired, also from the stern. Surely the Japs must be keeping a watch of some kind. But no sign, and the second phosphorescent wake heads straight for the target and passes exactly beneath him. Two wasted, and how can he fail to notice what is going on?
Something wrong with the electric fish? Maybe he had better quit shooting them, check them over again. Besides, O’Kane wants to keep the three he has left aft for a full salvo against some other ship. So Tang circles, brings her bow around to bear. She is less than half a mile from the target now, but there is still no sign of life on board.
A steam torpedo is made ready in one of the bow tubes. Tang is carefully lined up, absolutely steady in the water, and the torpedo is fired. Damn! It takes a large jog to the left, then runs properly, and roars past the target, missing to the left by only a few feet. A steam torpedo puts out a most extensive and visible wake under normal circumstances, and the phosphorescence makes it even more visible. Besides, it is a much faster torpedo than the electric, and makes a high-pitched sewing-machine noise which can easily be heard at some distance. But still no reaction from the enemy. Tang has been in the harbor now for half an hour, shooting torpedoes from about nine hundred yards, and still he sleeps.
Another steam torpedo is made ready, and fired as before. At last, this one settles down right for his middle, draws its greenish-white pencil line unerringly into the belly of the enemy.
KERBLROOM! A pillar of fire shoots out of the amidships section of the stricken ship! Five hundred feet in the air it is topped by a regular Fourth-of-July fireworks, tongues of flames shooting out in odd directions — rockets, pinwheels, and several more explosions. Of the gunboat there is absolutely nothing left.
Every man of Tang’s crew now feels much better about that gunboat. The score has been settled, and he won’t be around to heckle any more hard-working submariners trying to do their jobs. Sage heads are wagged below decks over the inevitable coffee and acey-deucy games. Most indubitably he has been taught a lesson he will never forget.
Tang’s bag of two ships on her fourth patrol boosted her total to seventeen. Although you would have thought her outstanding performance rated a rest, that was not the way Dick O’Kane saw it. As a matter of fact, the normal refit time was cut short by four days in order to enable him to get back on the firing line. The coming Philippine campaign promised many action possibilities in the form of Japanese reinforcements sent to help the defenders, and Tang intended to be in on the fun. It was known that the favorite route was inside of Formosa, where the Japs evidently hoped that United States submarines would not be able to enter or dare to patrol. Ceaseless coverage, flying both from Formosa and the mainland, plus strategically located and extensive mine fields, was intended to cut down the efficiency of such operations and to increase their hazard.
It is not recorded in history, but the story as known in the Submarine Force is to the effect that Dick O’Kane called his crew together shortly before getting under way, and informed them that he had volunteered Tang for the toughest assignment ComSubPac had to offer. He could not tell them where it was until the ship was underway, but he promised them all that there would be plenty of targets. Although the risks were to be many, the rewards would also be many, measured in terms of damage done to the enemy. It is a matter of pride in our service that not one man requested to be transferred out of that intrepid crew. Some, of course, had already been transferred or detached, for rotation of some personnel between patrols was one of the standard policies of the Submarine Force. The biggest loss was that of Tang’s Executive Officer, Murray Frazee, who had received orders to command USS Gar, and was already on leave awaiting availability of his first command. Frank Springer, who had been the third officer, moved up to exec, and on September 24 Tang departed from Pearl Harbor on what was to be her last and most glorious patrol.
On the night of October 10 Tang moves into the Straits of Formosa. Dick’s predictions and expectations begin to bear fruit, for in the early morning a ship is sighted. Tang tracks him, maneuvers ahead of him, and with dawn about to break, dives on his track. The ship comes on unsuspectingly, and is greeted with three torpedoes, fired in standard salvo fashion. The first two hit exactly as aimed, and the Jap blows up with a thoroughly satisfying explosion. The third would have hit also, had the enemy ship been there to receive it — as it is, it passes just slightly ahead of the suddenly stopped hulk, which is even then in the process of blowing sky-high.
One down, and Dick O’Kane has further evidence that if the fish are working right — and it now seems they might be — one torpedo would have sufficed to dispose of this ship, and the other two were wasted. Well, maybe he’ll put the matter to the test next time.