Charles Taylor - Show of Force

Now there was a telltale noise in one of the shafts, a bearing, the chief had said. He didn't know when it might go, but he recommended surfacing at night. They would have to stop to make the repairs before the sub became a major engineering casualty. Kupinsky didn't think that he would have that luxury. The Americans were everywhere. Half the time when he should have been snorkeling to recharge his batteries, he was diving to avoid those planes. They were invariably in the air, and he honestly didn't know why. But he knew that this was no Cold War game. That signal indicated that the games would soon be over, and he knew his boat must be ready.

Yes, he agreed with his chief, he would try to surface at the end of the day. He must snorkel for a while in case they were driven under again, and then he would stop engines if he could for the repairs. But they must be ready to dive at any time, he insisted.

The Gold Team was relieved by Joe Donovan's Blue Team for the first dog watch, before the evening meal. The late afternoon sun was still high in the sky at that latitude, and Donovan made his customary tour of the ship, leaving his experienced JO on the bridge. His last stop was combat, where he passed the time of day for just a moment with David Charles, the CIC watch officer.

It was quiet back on the bridge. A light breeze was cooling the day ever so slightly, and the gray metal of the Bagley was releasing some of its heat as the sun's rays lessened their effect. The ever-present flying fish offered the only entertainment for the men on the bridge, who quietly shifted their stations every fifteen minutes to avoid the mounting boredom.

"Bridge…" cracked Ensign Charles' voice from Combat, "I've just copied a snorkel sighting to the OTC from Tracker Four. We have the aircraft on radar twenty-six miles on our starboard beam. We're in the best position to head there right now."

"Roger, Combat, wait one." In three strides, Donovan was at the phone to Carter's cabin, punching the buzzer repeatedly. To the captain's answer on the other end, he replied excitedly. "Tracker aircraft had a snorkel, sir. Ensign Charles was following it in Combat. Datum for last known position twenty-six miles" on our starboard beam."

"Call Banker on the pritac frequency, Joe. Tell him we already have datum plotted and request permission to be released to conduct a search. We should be senior on this side of the screen. I'll be right up."

In less than thirty seconds Sam Carter was coming through the rear door of the pilothouse, buttoning the shirt still hanging out of his unzipped pants. There was no need to ask if the Admiral had responded yet. "Banker has rogered your message, sir. They probably have to call down to the Admiral's cabin. No other ships have responded yet."

Carter stepped to the speaker and pressed the button to CIC. "Mr. Charles, this is the captain. What course to datum please?"

The reply came without hesitation. "We want two eight six degrees true, sir. The distance to contact is now twenty-five point six miles. It would take us about forty-eight minutes at thirty-two knots, sir."

"Thanks, David." He turned to Donovan. "Have main control light off superheat. I want flank speed as fast as they can. Go on down and join your boys." He briefly checked the current course and speed. "I'll relieve you, Joe." And to the bridge watch, "I have the conn."

The hum on the primary tactical radio speaker preceded the voice by a split second. "Lucky Strike, this is Banker. You are detached to proceed to datum. Assume command of surface and air units upon arrival. Over."

As the JO acknowledged the transmission, Carter turned to the men at the helm and engine order telegraph. "Right standard rudder. All engines ahead flank. Indicate revolutions for thirty-two knots. Main control cannot answer you immediately until they have superheat. I will speak to Mr. Donovan as soon as he arrives in main control." To the JO, who was hesitantly standing to the side watching the bridge come to life, he said, "Sound general quarters, Mr. Sylvester. Tell me when all stations are manned and ready."

The ensign moved to the speaker on the bulkhead at the back of the pilothouse, depressed the switch, and announced, probably for the first time since he had reported aboard the Bagley, "General quarters, general quarters… all hands man your battle stations.…" At the same time, he pulled down the handle that sent the alarm clanging through every space on the ship.

To the helmsman who had relayed that his rudder was right, the captain replied, "Come to course two eight six degrees true." The Bagley was leaning sharply to starboard as her rudders bit into the blue water. Foam bubbled around the fantail as the propellers increased their revolutions. Men, just awakened from sleep, raced from their compartments to their GQ stations, some carrying their clothes.

"My course is two eight six degrees true."

"Very well," answered Carter as the bridge-talker began to report stations manned and ready. Bob Collier came through the pilothouse door rubbing his eyes, to assume GQ OOD. The bridge watch was relieved one at a time by the special GQ team. Carter briefed his OOD quickly.

"This is Mr. Collier. I have the conn." The new men shouted back the course and speed.

David Charles relieved as JO. He checked off the remaining GQ stations as they reported over the sound-powered headphones he had donned.

Forty seconds had passed, and all reports were to the bridge except for the damage-control people, who were still checking all watertight hatches. Donovan reported from main control that superheat was rising. Thirty-two knots could be achieved within twelve minutes, and damage-control central reported ready.

Bagley was at general quarters. Carter nodded at David Charles. "I owe you a very large drink the next time we're in port, David. We were the first can to report datum on that contact. We're OTC for a four-ship search." He grinned. "You made me look awfully good out here. All we have to do now is come up with that sub," he added thoughtfully.

Twenty-four miles dead ahead of Bagley, Alex Kupinsky had leveled his boat off at 150 feet after their crash dive. He hadn't expected a bomb or torpedo in the water, but he didn't really know what to expect. Only in exercises in the Baltic had he ever witnessed through his periscope the fearsome sight of an aircraft diving at his boat. It was bad for the nerves at any time.

Not knowing how long the aircraft had tracked him, he changed course and speed immediately, hoping for evasion of whatever was to come. Sunset would come within a couple of hours, but he knew he did not have enough air for men or engines to stay under for the entire night. They were still leaking oil, and the bearing on one shaft was hot. He had called his men to general quarters, but neither he nor the crew knew what they could expect now. Perhaps it would be the high-speed whine of surface-ship propellers sent to hunt him down.

The squawk box echoed through the Bagley, "This is the captain speaking again. As I promised when I first told you about this Cuban quarantine, I will keep you informed of your ship's participation. I'm sure the rumors have circulated around the ship pretty fast in the last few minutes, so I want to make sure each of you knows what we're doing. We were sent out here to find Russian submarines, and it seems we may have one now. About fifteen minutes ago one of the tracker aircraft got a good look at a snorkel that we know doesn't belong in the area. We are OTC for a four-ship search commencing at the last point of contact. We'll be at datum in about thirty minutes to join a number of helicopters and trackers. This is an opportunity to make a major contribution to President Kennedy's.challenge to the Russians. He is depending on each ship and each man." He paused for a moment for effect. "I want you to do your best. A lot of us have been together for almost eighteen months now, and I have a feeling we're going to show that Bagley's not ready for the scrap heap yet." He stopped for another moment, then continued, "I want to assure you I will keep you up to date whenever I can."