John Schettler - Kirov

The Captain was out on the watch deck at once, field glasses in hand, scanning the seas in every direction. There was nothing left of his destroyer division. Benson, Mayo and Jones were gone, but off to the starboard side he caught sight of Division 14. They had been trailing behind his ships somewhat, and suffered less from the enemy guns. Hughes was leaving a wake of smoke, but Madison, Gleaves and Lansdale seemed alive and well.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he breathed. He kept scanning.

“Jimmy, signal Div-Fourteen and see if they have a sighting on that German ship.”

Word came back by lantern: clear ahead, and Kauffman had the other ships form up on Plunkett, a fistful of five destroyers, the proud remnant of Desron 7. They searched the area for some time, but there was no sign of the German raider, or of that awesome explosive geyser they had seen to their east. Kauffman decided to risk a radio call, and he put out a message, hoping to hear from TF-16 and the Mississippi. There was nothing but silence, and the odd green sea.

The Captain scratched his head. Thankfully the fires were out on his own ship, and Plunkett was still seaworthy. With three ships lost, and the enemy nowhere to be seen, he eventually decided to come about and head back to Argentia Bay. When he arrived there he would get the surprise of his life.