“You know it’s a mystery to me too,” the XO said. “From what I understand, when the city decided to put the ship back in service they contacted the Iowa Veteran’s Association. Within a week there were over fifty guys up here helping out. Within a month there were 300. Most of them are from when the ship was in commission in the 80s. When I got here, they had pulled out that Battleship Standards book and people were quoting it chapter and verse. It was a kind of guide they used. It was good for me. I was the rookie and they had all the experience. A few of them took me by the hand and we got things going. These guys seemed to know where everything was and how it worked. I suggested they form a sort of school for the new guys to get them oriented. They set it up. Now when a new guy comes in, he spends at least a week with one of the older guys to learn the ship and all the procedures,” he said.
“That explains some of it,” Hammond said. “But I also like the way you are training the JOs. That unrep was almost perfect.”
“Martinez is a good one. He pays attention and seems to have the feel of the ship. I took the JOs out on an old torpedo retriever at the shipyard one day to do a little training and see what these guys had. Martinez was one of the better ones. But I want to put all the guys through these evolutions before we get over there if I can,” the XO said.
Hammond could tell he was serious when it came to training and anything else that had to do with the ship’s operations. Davis seemed to have a lot of drive and focus with an easygoing way about him that seemed to beg respect. Hammond decided he needed to send the detailers a gift for sending Davis to the ship. “You were CO on the Nicholson weren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Two years, then some staff duty. I actually missed her until I came aboard this ship.”
Hammond smiled through the bit of his sandwich. “Yeah, she has her way doesn’t she?”
“It was like I could feel it when I stepped aboard. Some of the older guys bring it home, especially Boats. He was the one that brought you to the ship.”
“From what I see, he’s a real character.”
“You should hear him when somebody screws up. He has a mouth that would embarrass a hooker. Between him, the Navigator, and a couple of the Chiefs, they could peel the paint off half the ship,” the XO laughed. “And since tomorrow is Sunday, he has already made plans.”
“What kind of plans?” the Captain asked warily.
“I asked the same question, but the First Lieutenant says it’s needed and he’s already set up the working parties. I’m planning on taking pictures,” he said. “It won’t happen until after lunch tomorrow and then will take about three hours. It needs to be done to clean the decks. The band will be playing for this one, too,” the XO said cryptically.
“Okay, come on, give me the skinny,” Hammond said with a grin. The XO’s humor was infectious.
“Time honored tradition, Captain. It involves holystones,” he said.
At first Hammond wasn’t sure what he meant, and then he remembered his history and the smile spread on his face. “You’re right Brian. A time honored tradition. I’m looking forward to it myself.”
“Three — two — one…” the countdown ended as a gout of flame erupted from the end of the venerable Titan III rocket as it lifted gently from its launch pad and began to move swiftly down range. The technicians at the Cape watched anxiously to make sure everything went perfectly and the precious cargo was carried as planned. As planned, the first stage separated and the second continued to shove its payload faster and higher to achieving orbit. Then a much smaller third stage ignited sending the satellite even further above the Earth until it was a few thousand miles up in a stationary orbit.
On cue, photovoltaic panels unfolded to their full length and the large communications satellite realigned itself so that its receivers were aligned with the Western Pacific and its transmitters pointed both toward the Pacific and to another satellite that had been launched earlier in the morning. In the Pentagon, a signal was received indicating the circuit was now complete. Smiles broke out around the communications center and a few of the technicians shook hands.
General Ryan Bradley grinned at the people in the room. “OK, gents, we now have secure comms with the Pacific. I want them quiet until D-Day, then burn up the sky,” he said. Bradley picked up a telephone and dialed a number. “Mister President, this is General Bradley. The birds are up and waiting, sir,” he said.
“What other materials may we assist you with, Comrade?” asked the People’s Republic’s Ambassador to North Korea.
“We believe that is all we currently need, Comrade Ambassador. My government wishes to express its deepest appreciation for everything you have been able to help us with over the past few months. We anticipate a total victory in a short period of time, unifying our divided nation and adding another star to our Communist brotherhood,” said Huo Tiem, a high ranking official with the Secretariat.
“The People’s Republic stands ready to help any aligned nation. As our neighbors, you are always welcome. I believe my assistant also has some business after we have concluded, so I shall return to our embassy,” the ambassador said as he stood. The men shook hands and the primary parties left the room. Only counterparts remained.
After the doors were closed, two men faced each other across the table. “My government wishes to share with you some information it has received regarding the Americans and your soon to be countrymen,” said So Yuan, an intelligence officer from the People’s Republic. He handed over a folder with some papers inside.
“In addition to our regular intelligence assessment, we have received some interesting information. It appears that a number of ships from the Hyundai Corporation have become disenfranchised with the Americans. They have been sneaking their ships out of American waters and have begun making their way back to their homeports on the peninsula. One of our contacts found out and sent us this information. The ships do not have operating radio equipment and from what we understand they are loaded with their automobiles. My superiors believe they should arrive back in their homeports by the end of the month.”
“And why should we be interested in these ships?” asked the Korean intelligence officer.
“My government believes this is a significant political event. These crews have decided that the American political system is incompatible with their needs and have embraced your political system. This can act as a political endorsement of your government. More than that, these people can be used as heroic examples of the new government of Korea — a political system in which people actively wish to participate. My superiors are providing this information so that your government can use it to the maximum effect,” he said.
“Has this information been verified?”
Yuan smiled. “Unfortunately your government’s methods have left our intelligence gathering services without a means for such verification. However, the information has come to us. If the ships arrive, the information should prove helpful. If not, no harm should be done,” he said.
The Korean glanced through the papers. “I will present these to my superiors,” he said.
“We are happy to assist our comrades in Korea.”
Chapter 12
Sunday was a holiday routine aboard ship. Men could sleep in as long as they weren’t on watch and no ship’s activities would be accomplished until after lunch. Hammond slept until 0630 and had a quiet breakfast of cereal and coffee in his cabin. He allowed this last “holiday routine” Sunday because it would probably be just that — the last one. The ship was nearing Oahu now and, according to the plan, they were going to be joining up with additional forces. After that, they would be steaming into dangerous waters. After breakfast he took a tour of the ship.