That launch was a pest. He had sound equipment, and his sound man was an expert. Maley and I were both astounded by the methodical type of searching he employed. The afternoon wore on. We couldn’t shake him. He may not have been equipped to depth-charge us, but he could easily have called his friends, and there were plenty of them around. Six o’clock. Seven o’clock. It was dark upstairs now, but we still dared not surface.
This Jap was too good. We stayed down.
Every little while Captain Warder was at the door of the radio shack. “What do you hear?”
My report was always the same. “Captain, we just aren’t shaking this guy.”
“Persistent cuss,” the Captain said. “Let me know if there’s any change.”
We stripped our running machinery to a minimum. The only motors kept operating were those necessary to keep the ship maneuverable, and the sound-gear apparatus. Maley and I never underestimated a Jap sound man again.
Finally, about 1 a.m., with our batteries dangerously low, Captain Warder decided we’d surface and if necessary make a run for it. The Jap was now behind us, not too far away. We made ready for anything. Captain Warder was the first man on the bridge, and his eyes must have been glued to his night glasses a second after he hit the bridge. I was worried about aircraft. We were fresh meat for any plane that spotted us. It was a bad spot to be caught in. But we maneuvered and changed course to get rid of him, and finally lost him in the night.
We dove again before dawn and came in from a different angle than before. We wanted to sink Jap shipping, and we wanted it bad. In the first hours of daylight a large convoy passed us. A minute’s study, and we knew they knew we were there. They sailed by. Shortly after noon we sighted a large cargo ship, escorted by a bristling Japanese destroyer. It was an easy approach. We fired our fish. One hit with an ear-splitting blast that nearly shook our teeth loose. The destroyer came charging down at us, heaving depth charges right and left, but between the charges I heard the death rattle of the cargo ship over my earphones.
I told the Captain: “She’s sunk, Captain. I heard her go.”
Everyone cheered. There was no end of back-slapping and congratulations. The morale of the entire ship soared. We’d broken the jinx.
Gus Wright celebrated by producing a platter of Spam sandwiches and mugs of steaming black coffee. But we didn’t have much chance to enjoy them. The depth charges came. How they rained them down! They depth-charged to the right, to the left, ahead of us, and behind. The ocean churned with the explosions. We were rocked and shaken, but no damage was done. Maley and I sat through the attack with the phones on. Some of the blasts were so near our ears were paralyzed. We couldn’t speak to each other, but at times I would look over at Maley and catch him with a big grin on his face. Both of us were as pleased as hell.
The depth-charging continued intermittently. We steered a straight course out to sea, but the destroyer followed us out part of the way and pounded our tail.
After a while, Captain Warder said over the intercom, “All right, Eck, take a good listen all around.”
I made a very careful search, for this was a dangerous place. I knew Captain Warder was preparing to surface the Wolf. I listened intently, investigating every little sound, as I covered the dial, a fraction of a degree at a time.
The Captain upped his periscope, looked about, and exclaimed: “Here’s something!… By God, it is a ship!
“I think he heard us. Down periscope!” said the Captain slowly, deliberating each word. It looked as if we were to undergo another exhausting night session.
Captain Warder was talking it over with Mercer. “Well, they probably know we’re here, all right, but that fellow didn’t look as though he could give me too much of a fight on the surface. We’ll surface and run away from him. The crew’s tired, I’m tired, and I want some fresh air in this ship. Stand by to surface.”
We held our breath as the Wolf climbed to the surface. If we came up within range of the enemy, he would blow us to bits.
We broke the water. “Open the hatch!”
A gust of fresh air swept through the ship. The lookouts rushed to the bridge. We heard the cry: “Ship on the port bow!”
By a miracle we hadn’t come up directly alongside of her.
Then, listening intently, I heard the stealthy turning over of her screws. She had seen us.
“She’s coming after us, Captain,” I warned.
“I can see her, Eckberg,” came his unperturbed voice from the bridge, “but she’ll never catch us. We have too much of a head start.”
We raced through the darkness and lost her.
The next day we again started our penetration. We worked against stiff odds. The Japs knew we were there, and they were employing every device they had to keep us from attacking. We were still out a way when Captain Warder picked up a ship. We raced to battle stations. We were pepped up. “It’s a man-of-war,” announced the Skipper, and we were really on our toes, then. Captain Warder went after him. We were about 6,000 yards away when he upped periscope for another look. He peered intently for a few seconds, then a loud, explosive “Dammit!” We knew that the target had zigged radically, or something new had entered the picture. We didn’t have long to wait, though. We all heard Captain Warder clearly.
“This isn’t a destroyer. It’s a damned anti-sub ship, something like a corvette. Secure battle stations. Come left to zero eight zero and let’s head out of here.”
Listening to the Jap, I knew he was not wasting his energies wandering about. His course was straight, and the sudden thought that he might have a plane working with him—a plane that had already spotted us—flashed through my mind. I heard the growl of his screws. They were coming closer, fast and powerful. It was time to warn the Captain.
“He’s heading right for us, Captain,” I sang out.
The Skipper said, “Are you sure, Eckberg? I don’t think he saw our periscope.”
I said, “Positive, Captain.”
Maley, at my side, nodded agreement.
“I’ll have a look around and see what he’s doing,” said the Skipper.
The sound of the Jap’s screws grew more intense. They bored into my brain. He was coming in for the kill. We were no longer the hunter but the hunted. I screamed, “Captain, he’s dead astern… He’s coming over us… He’s ready…”
Captain Warder didn’t give me a chance to finish. “Right full rudder! All ahead full!”
That last command saved our lives. A second later a thunderclap split my eardrums, and a knifelike pain slashed through my head. The photographs bounced off my arm. Dust from a million hidden crevices clouded the sound shack. Maley flew off his chair and landed with a crash on the deck. I was swept off my stool and landed next to him. Bits of cork mixed with the dust. Our heavy sound gear rocked and swayed.
I kept tearing at my earphones, trying to get them off before another thunderbolt should split my head. From far off I heard Captain Warder’s shout, “Take her deep!”
He didn’t have to give that command. The depth charge was so close it smashed us down into the sea. It was the closest call the Wolf had ever had. Again and again the Jap dropped his charges. Each one rocked the Wolf. Every plate, every rivet must have been put in her with a prayer, for somehow they held. Water roared through the superstructure, sounding as if it were traveling a hundred miles an hour. Through my mind flashed, Now the shack is getting a real cleaning! I saw Maley fighting to get to his feet. With each charge he slammed against the bulkhead and was forced to his knees like a punch-drunk fighter. He was wearing a pair of faded shorts, and he looked like a man in a ring. Bits of cork stuck to the stubble on his face. He looked dazed. Then he glanced at me, shook his head, and laughed. He couldn’t control himself. He was depth-charge happy.