We disobeyed orders slightly, in that we did not enter the Yellow Sea, but instead remained in the vicinity of the Straits of Tsushima, in faint hope that Admiral Lockwood would relent. And he did, for during the night of the 12th orders arrived for us to go on through.
At 0500 on the 13th Piper submerged in the approaches to Tsushima. All during the day, with the crew at special mine-passage stations, we proceeded submerged, groping our way along, watching the special FM equipment for the first sign of detection of mines. Indication would be by visual presentation on a cathode ray tube, accompanied by a gonglike ringing — which someone had named Hell’s Bells — for each mine. Along about midday both indications came at once.
“There they are, Captain!” I was in the conning tower, but Arnold Christiansen, for the moment on the “mine watch,” was the first man to spot them. The equipment began to ring continuously, and the cathode-ray tube showed a seemingly solid line of mines. There were no holes anywhere, but we had to find one somewhere and slip through it. The range of initial detection was such that there was no hope of turning around for another go at them. Holding my breath, I watched the tube. The mines could not be planted that solidly — there simply had to be holes between them! There was dead silence in the conning tower, broken only by the bell-like chimes of the mine-detection gear as we slowly approached. I concentrated on the tube, watched the phalanx of mines coming closer and closer, Hell’s Bells ringing louder all the time. It was up to me to find a hole and maneuver the ship through it. Watertight doors and bulkhead flappers were shut tightly throughout the ship, and there was no communication except by telephone. I could sense, however, that everyone in the ship’s company had got the word.
There! A hole at last! Slightly to the right. “Right full rudder!” I ordered, speaking as calmly as I could and deliberately pitching my voice low.
Ever so slowly the opening drifted to the left, until centered directly in front of our bow. I ordered the rudder amidships. Seconds passed. We commenced to pass directly between two mines, equidistant from each. The mines disappeared from the indicator, but we could still hear the chimes. They were abeam now — now abreast the after torpedo room. “We’re clear!” somebody said. But I continued to watch the FM equipment indicator, for just before the mines passed clear, a veritable nest of them had shown up, dead ahead, accompanied by an incessant cacophony of jangling chimes.
No hole at all this time! Cold sweat on my forehead. Too late to change course — it had already been too late when we picked up this latest group. Nothing to do but remain at slowest creeping speed and hope to see a hole as we get closer. A trapped, panicky feeling rises just beneath consciousness, but I manage to keep it there. It’s up to me, only me! A small hole develops, to the right again — and cockeyed — but it’s the best there is.
“Starboard back emergency! Port ahead emergency! Right full rudder!” That’s all we can do. I haven’t taken my eyes from the screen, and so I see us swing into the hole. We just seem to get into it The mines draw up alongside, pass aft, ringing incessantly, along the hull. I open my mouth to give the order to put the rudder amidships again and equalize the screws, when the telephone talker interrupts rapidly:
“Mine cable scraping port-side after battery!”
Disturbing the cable might set off the mine floating on the end of it. Or even if it doesn’t actually snag as the ship moves ahead, the cable might readily drag the mine down on us. Either way means disaster.
Instantly I tell the helmsman, “Shift everything!” He’s heard the report, too, and responds with amazing celerity. We had drilled for just this situation. Without further ado, the helmsman switches the starboard annunciator from back emergency to ahead emergency; the port one from ahead emergency to back emergency and nearly rips the steering wheel from the bulkhead as he swings it to left full.
As I watch him go industriously through the routine, an incongruous thought intrudes: “Bet even old Wilson wouldn’t have got it all done any quicker!”
Back aft, the electrician’s mates are also on the phone circuit, and the order to shift everything has been relayed to them via the talker. The shift in direction of the twist is nothing short of remarkable, and the cable stops scraping outside.
At 2000 we surfaced, safe and sound, in the Sea of Japan, and began running at full speed for our assigned patrol area.
August 14
1640 Sighted swamped lifeboat with man and woman clinging to it. They both appeared young; the woman quite pretty with her many-colored scarf around her head. The wolves could be heard howling throughout the boat. Decided to take them aboard. Came alongside three times, flooded down, bow planes rigged out, trying first to coax them aboard, and that failing, to frighten them aboard by a few shots well overhead. Both methods failed; each time we maneuvered close aboard they paddled away on a floating thwart; it was believed that girl had seen wolves before.
During the procedure the entire boarding party, both first and second waves, were on deck with guns and equipment. After the third attempt, it was decided that enough was enough, and the Gunnery Officer, Lt. W. A. BOWMAN and LECLAIR, R.J. Slc (225 pounds of very solid gun-striker), stripped to skivvies and with long knives clenched in their teeth (like John Silver) went over the side after them.
This ended all argument. The young lady was towed alongside with her hands clasped in front of her face, praying in Japanese; the man followed suit, struggling somewhat.
It was decided to strip and search both prisoners on deck, and in deference to maidenly modesty a shapely mattress cover with arm and leg holes was provided. This was quite unnecessary, as without a scarf and a pair of pants, the beautiful she turned out to be a young he. The other prisoner was suffering from a deep scalp wound closely resembling an old bullet crease. Both men were bathed, given medical attention and dry clothing.
Before this could be completed, sighted a raft ahead with four more customers. These were more willing to come aboard under their own power, with the exception of a serious young man who first tried to swim away, then deciding this was no good, floated on his back and gazed up at the riflemen as he waited to be shot. LECLAIR went over the side and brought him aboard in a manner that left little doubt in his mind that we wanted him alive.
We had been running at full power ever since breaking out of the Tsushima area, and remaining on the surface all day in order to increase distance. Picking these characters out of the drink within a half hour’s flight from land delayed us, and was a risky operation as well. A submarine has no business being on the surface during wartime, unless it is ready for instant submergence. When Bowman and LeClair went over the side, they must have realized that we might have been forced to leave them up there, although of course we’d have stuck around and picked them up later. Nevertheless, I breathed much easier when everyone was once more safely below and we had resumed running at full speed for the Jap coast.
Nary a ship had we seen, except an old waterlogged and abandoned wooden landing craft. The radio, which we kept tuned in, continuously reported the progress of the peace feelers going on. It was obvious that this was to be the last patrol, the only question being — would it last long enough for Piper to get a few licks in at the enemy?