Clear the Bridge! by Richard O'Kane Read Free Book Online Page A

per minute, and estimated ranges, the TDC operator could solve for enemy course and speed, arriving at a fairly close solution as the apparent ship passed by. With experience, we could also introduce our own maneuvers and those of enemy escorts into the problem. However, since I would never base my firing on sonar information alone, all simulated firings would follow periscope observations as a drill in my procedure, though of course in these exercises I would make my periscope data agree with the information provided by the sonarman and the TDC operator.
    Mel Enos took
Tang
down, and as he leveled the boat off handsomely, I reflected that a short two years before, an officer with his time in service would likely be just observing, not diving. Since that time, the necessity for filling new-construction crews and qualifying replacements had shaken a little realism into even the most conservative naval officers. After all, Mel was surrounded by experienced men who would prevent any serious errors. Right now, our trust in Mel seemed reflected by his self-confidence. He made no mistakes.
    The bonging of the general alarm and the order “Battle stations torpedo” came over the 1MC,
Tang’s
announcing system. All stations reported manned over their battle telephones, and the practice approach proceeded right up to the firing point. Then came my firing command, “Constant bearing—mark! … Fire!” a separate command on a new periscope bearing for each torpedo. On each “Fire!” the plunger that would send the torpedo on its way was pushed smartly home. Had the torpedo tubes themselves been readied for firing, four Mark 14 torpedoes, each with a 500-pound warhead, would have been speeding at 46 knots into the Pacific.
    It was a good exercise, even though it did not seem that our firing data, when compared with the recorded problem, would substantiate a hit. Of more importance was the participation by all hands, who had carried out their tasks splendidly. We could discuss the apparent miss later in the wardroom while on our way again.
    “Prepare to surface. Lookouts to the conning tower,” I called. I made a careful sweep around with the periscope, then ordered, “Sound three blasts. All ahead two-thirds.” A minute later, now standing on the dripping bridge, I ordered the turbo blowers started and the lookouts topside. The bow was riding well with the seas nearly abeam to port so I ordered, “All ahead standard, three main engines.” The exhausts sputtered as the diesels fired, while the turbo blowers forced the remaining water from the ballast tanks, slowly raising us from an awash to a fully surfaced condition. By the time the ballast tanks were dry, as evidenced by huge bubbles rising along our sides, we had regained our cruising speed.
    After the navigator had obtained a morning sun line, he joined Frank and me in the wardroom to discuss our simulated attack. Over a cup of coffee, we compared our solution of enemy course and speed at the moment of firing with those that had been recorded for the problem. We had the ship going too fast and on a more divergent course. These were cumulative errors, and the TDC’s angle solver had directed the torpedoes to intercept at a point ahead of the enemy.
    “But we fired a spread of four,” commented Fraz. He started figuring out loud, “Nine knots equals three hundred yards a minute…. The torpedo you fired under her stern would have blown her whole bow off!”
    “Well, you don’t sink ships with hits in the bow,” was my response. But I conceded that the crew might feel better about their efforts if they knew we wouldn’t have missed completely. So word of a ghost ship with a missing bow was passed along by the chief of the boat.
    Though wartime cruising was a full-time task in itself, we continued our efforts to perfect those drills and evolutions that would likely be required during the training period still ahead of us at Pearl. One after another we were able to