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The navigator held a chart on his knees, on which the search areas were divided into many narrow strips. Since flights like these went back and forth the length of the strips, the pilots dubbed them “ironing missions”, as they were similar to the motion of passing an iron over an ironing board. The plane was equipped on both sides with two large observation windows which protruded outwards, like large transparent bubbles. The airborne observer would look through them at the sea, trying to detect suspicious sea vessels.

One of the observers was heard on the pilots’ headsets.

“Identifying a wake in the distance at our nine o’clock.”

The maritime patrol aircraft sharply banked to the left in a steep dive. Two minutes later, the plane had already made three passes above a medium-size trawler. The observer’s voice was heard again on the intercom.

“Okay, I got it on film. It is coming from the exact location of the blast. It could be interesting to ask the crew some questions. By the way, I can’t see any fishing nets on its deck, and judging by the black smoke, it’s probably racing away to the east at full power.”

The plane’s captain, experienced in sea patrol missions, needed no further information for all the red lights to go on in his brain. He immediately reported the findings to headquarters. The captain was informed that the battleship USS Iowa was in the area and had already been ordered to intercept the suspicious trawler. Within minutes, the HMS Chester, an old British Royal Navy frigate, which was even nearer to the trawler, was located.

The captain of the maritime patrol aircraft established contact with the British frigate and updated its communications officer with the details of the trawler, its speed, location and course. Then the Orion climbed back to high altitude, as its crew observed the HMS Chester closing the distance to the trawler.

The captain of the HMS Chester watched the trawler through heavy naval binoculars. Judging from its empty decks, the ship seemed deserted, but the great quantity of black smoke pouring from its smokestack confirmed the earlier report that he had received, that the vessel was racing at full power, trying to escape eastwards to the Soviet Union. The captain looked at the name of the ship in large letters on its bow and called out into the microphone over the radio, which was set to the international emergency frequency.

“Zlatoya Klatzo, Zlatoya Klatzo, this is Her Majesty’s Ship Chester calling. You are requested to stop for a routine check. Silence your engines; all your crew should come up to the upper deck. Please confirm.”

The captain repeated his call several times, but there was no response from the trawler, even when they were cruising parallel to one another at a distance of only 100 meters. The royal frigate’s captain pressed the alarm button and the noise of deafening whistles filled the air throughout the ship. Within seconds, scores of the ship’s crew were running in every direction to man the heavy gun and machine gun positions, to the takeover team boats, to the fire extinguishing stations and so forth, each to his position and function.

The captain again spoke into the public address microphone.

“Attention, your Captain is speaking. We have a situation here with a vessel that isn’t responding on the emergency frequency and is attempting to evade us. Gun crew number two, fire one shell one hundred meters ahead of the trawler’s bow…Fire!”

A loud blast shook the frigate, after which the shell exploded just a few meters ahead of the trawler’s bow; but it continued on its way, totally disregarding the shelling in its path.

The Chester’s captain was again heard on the ship’s PA system.

“Takeover Team One and Takeover Team Two, lower boats and prepare to board the trawler. I must remind you that our entire Navy is on supreme alert. Be vigilant and prepare for any eventuality. You are permitted to open fire only if you are fired upon. We will close distance to the trawler and cover you. Go ahead and good luck!”

Two fast rubber assault dinghies, each manned by eight highly skilled and well-equipped Royal Marines, approached the trawler from both sides. The marines attached their boats to the ship’s metal body where the height of the deck was lowest, and skillfully threw rope ladders to the decks with anchor-like hooks that caught on the bridge. Within seconds, the first of them climbed, like big cats, over to the deck of the trawler. The captain watched them through his binoculars.

Captain Yashin, commander of nuclear submarine K-219, had been observing the trawler through his periscope for quite some time. When he noticed the British frigate approaching the trawler, he called his crew to their battle positions. The pneumatic launch tubes had already been loaded with torpedoes. The submarine crew was awaiting orders.

“Captain”, the duty seaman called out beside him, “We are detecting another ship approaching from the south. It’s a very large ship, probably a battleship.”

Captain Yashin turned his periscope to the south and indeed, the great silhouette of an American battleship was there in all its intimidating glory. He could read its name on its side: BB-61. That is the USS Iowa, the Captain thought, and it’s starting to get quite crowded and unpleasant around here. We need to complete our mission and head home. He picked up the microphone.

“Launch Tube One and Launch Tube Two, target ahead, direction one nine five, range two four zero zero. Fire!”

The muffled sound of released pressurized air was heard in the submarine. Through his periscope, Captain Yashin tracked the two torpedoes cutting through the water at a very high speed, leaving two thin white wakes behind them. He decided not to wait until the torpedoes had hit the target, as he figured that he would also hear the explosions underwater. Now we’ve already been detected, he thought, and they’ll come after us, and very soon we’ll have depth charges exploding around us. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. He took up the microphone again.

“Dive, dive, dive. Depth two hundred forty, direction zero nine five, full power ahead.”

The telephone rang on the HMS Chester’s command bridge and the Captain quickly picked it up. A panicky voice was heard on the line.

“Sir, this is the observer. I see a torpedo in the water, racing toward us from east to west. Wait, I see another one. I think they’re going to hit the trawler, but I’m not sure. 600 meters, 400… 150.”

A powerful explosion was heard and then another, and a huge fireball engulfed the trawler’s hull. A shockwave shook the HMS Chester with great force. The Chester’s Captain held tightly on to the railing and watched, mesmerized, as the trawler, whose bow seemed to rise skyward, fell back and hit the water with great force. The ship then tilted downwards, bow first, and began sinking rapidly until it was vertical. Within two minutes, only the tip of its stern was visible above water. The ship’s propellers, which continued spinning, were now pointed skyward. It was a frightening, chilling sight, yet extraordinarily captivating and powerful. A minute later, the trawler had completely disappeared and a deathly silence returned to the sea.

The HMS Chester’s Captain was an old seaman, a veteran of the Second World War. He quickly recovered, and his clear authoritative voice was heard again over the PA system.

“HMS Chester crew, this is the Captain speaking. Lower boats and search for survivors. Damage control team, check for damage and report immediately. The enemy submarine which sank the trawler will be taken care of by our big sister the USS Iowa. Chester crew, we have probably lost some brave men. God save the souls of our heroic brothers.”