Charles Taylor - Show of Force

The men on the other ships were just as itchy. Carter noted that the signalmen were talking more often with their lights. Once or twice, the other CO's mentioned the possibility of using stronger methods to convince the sub to surface. The captain of Bartlett had even suggested that he would be happy to roll one or two depth charges. He hastened to add that, of course, he would ensure that the depth and location would be far enough away so that there was no danger of damaging the enemy. Carter thought to himself how easy it was for the hunter to always consider a weapon larger than he needed.

Frank Welles had picked up an occasional screeching sound on his sonar, which he finally identified as submarine machinery rather than playful porpoises. The other ships heard it, too, and all agreed that their quarry was experiencing some mechanical problems. He'll try a few more tricks and then surface, Carter thought. He won't do anything rash unless he's provoked.

"Pinwheel Leader, Pinwheel Leader." The voice was urgent over the primary frequency. "This is Backfire. Unidentified device in the water bearing two eight five my position." It was Harriett again. "Initial identification… torpedo," the voice bellowed. "Taking evasive action."

Before Carter could question sonar, the speaker over his head, the one that was used only for contact reports, answered, "We copied that transmission, Captain. It may be a noisemaker." Carter ordered a turn toward the object.

After another fifteen seconds, Welles's voice came again, "Recommend emergency… negative! Forget that.… We've got a noisemaker definitely, repeat definite noisemaker.… He's just turned again, and he's picking up speed. That's his decoy." There was a pause for a moment while Welles kept the key down on the speaker. "And what a wail in his machinery, Captain. He's got problems." After another moment's hesitation he added, "Oh, sorry, Captain. I forgot the speaker was right over your head." A click, then silence.

But Bartlett was not satisfied. "Pinwheel, this is Backfire. Contact precipitated action first. I am preparing for a torpedo attack. We have a firing solution based on their new course and speed after torpedo release."

"That stupid son of a bitch!" Carter grabbed for the mike himself. "This is Pinwheel Leader. Break off all attacks. I repeat… break off all attacks. Device is identified as a noisemaker. Acknowledge, over."

"Like hell it is," Bartlett's CO came back. "We know what a goddamn torpedo sounds like. We're no sitting ducks."

"This is Pinwheel Leader. I say again, break off attack. I am running down the bearing of the device in the water now. I will pass over it in ten seconds. It is not a torpedo… repeat, not a torpedo. All ships prepare to reform pinwheel. Contact has just broken through our circle."

And at that moment, David was repeating the words as they came over his headset; "Combat reports submarine has broken toward the west. Sonar reports lost contact… he's in the baffles. Mr. Burchette is moving the helos into position now. Mr. Welles thinks he may have gone deeper, but says he has to be close to his maximum depth now."

As the ships scurried back over the black, tossing water to reestablish their stations, Carter murmured, "He's smart. He knew he couldn't outrun us, so when his chances were down he used the trick he'd saved for last. Mitchum would have loved that." He turned to David, "Ask if the helos are in position yet."

"Captain," asked Bob Collier, "Did you really feel that was a noisemaker when you gave that first order to the helm?"

"No, Bob, I really didn't know for sure. But put yourself in that sub's position. None of us want to start war, except maybe Bartlett. That boat down there is in serious trouble. If he was to attack, which we don't believe he's authorized to do, he knows he'd get sunk. It's likely his orders are just to keep from getting caught on our turf, and you know as well as I do that he was due to try anything to get away. He's tried every evasive maneuver he knows, but he didn't once try a noisemaker. I've been waiting all night for one, but he was smart enough to wait until we were all tired. What I really had to do was show Bartlett that we were sure it wasn't a torpedo. People will do crazy things and what I wasn't sure of is whether Bartlett might not just have fired that torpedo if we weren't in the way."

"Helos have contact, sir," David reported. "Combat says he's about twenty-six hundred yards off the starboard bow heading away from us at nine knots."

"Okay, Bob, I think we'll have him in a while. Take us in there and calm down the pinwheel. It won't be long now." Carter got down from his chair and stepped out onto the bridge wing nearby, staring into the dark waves, then up at the stars.

"David, have Mr. Welles tell the sub that we know he has an engineering casualty. Tell him we will make room for him to surface safely, that we don't intend to harm his boat in any way… tell him we stand ready to render any assistance he may require… and tell him to speak slowly and repeat it. I know someone down there has to understand English."

There was no answer to Welles's carefully stated plea, but the elapsed time and the screeching sound that was occasionally picked up over the sonar told them that the sub's time was limited.

At 0122 on the morning of October 24 the first confirmation of human life below the surface was heard by the four ships. In barely discernible words, sometimes breaking off completely, they were told that the sub intended to come to the surface.

"Tell him we will stand away for safety," replied Carter. "Request that he fire a flare to mark his location before surfacing, and we will then give him clearance to surface."

The destroyers rapidly expanded their circle until there was no doubt that the boat would know there was room. A flare appeared toward the middle of their circle, flickered briefly in the wind, then rose straight up to mark the position of the sub.

"Tell him all clear," Carter's voice rang out happily. "As soon as CIC has the first mark on him, I want an immediate course and speed. We'll adjust to where he wants to go." As an afterthought, he added, "Make sure we have the fire-control radar locked on him. I'll want mount fifty-one to fire illumination."

Frank Welles reported sounds of the sub surfacing at almost the same moment Combat reported radar contact. Bagley gradually moved in to take station five hundred yards on the port beam of the sub. It could not be seen clearly from the bridge. A black submarine on a dark night at sea is outlined only by the phosphorous from the waves breaking against its sail.

"Gunnery reports mount fifty-one loaded and ready for illumination."

"Very well, David." He turned to Collier, "Have the signalmen ask the sub if they require assistance. When they say no, have them explain in whatever international signal language there is that we're going to illuminate, that there are no shells in the guns. I don't want them pulling the plug!"

Signal lamps flashed back and forth for a moment. Then, after a brief period, flashing began again, followed by even more flashing.

"Captain, we don't seem to be able to explain about the illuminating shells."

"Oh, for Christ's sake! David, ask if any of those aircraft have flares they can drop without scaring the pee out of that boat." What a hell of a note, he thought. We've just spent seven and a half hours committing the power of the U.S. Atlantic Fleet to chasing that sub around the ocean, and we can't find a light!

"The trackers each have ten flares, sir… forty-five seconds duration. They'll commence their own runs in one minute to try to keep everything lit up for the time being. If their timing happens to be off and the lights go out for a moment, their CO says he apologizes in advance, and it won't happen again. And he also sends his congratulations for a great job."