Larry Bond - Dangerous Ground

The air, not oxygen, was provided by the ship’s low-pressure air system and there were 169 EAB manifolds located throughout the boat. You could always find a manifold by looking for the red squares with a black triangle on the deck. He pointed to the one below him and asked Emily to run her hand over the triangle. It was noticeably rough, like coarse sandpaper. Lopez explained that this was how you could find the square in the dark with your hands, or even with your shoes.

He then went to the end of the hose and showed them the conical plug. Reaching up to the manifold, he demonstrated how the plug could easily be inserted into the manifold, even though there was one hundred-pound air in it. To release the plug, he pushed on the outer ring on the female connector and the air pushed the plug out.

The air was not allowed to just flow into the mask. That was much too dangerous. Instead, air was passed to an individual only as it was needed by a demand regulator, which was attached to a person’s belt. It was the same type of regulator that scuba divers used and it was very reliable.

Emily was intrigued by the simplicity of the EAB mask, but she also looked nervous. Jerry guessed she was still dealing with being submerged.

Lopez turned to Patterson and Davis. “Ladies, the torpedo gang are all familiar with the mask and the procedure. If you’d like, I’ll put them through it first while you watch, so you can see how it’s done.”

He pointed to Jerry. “You first. You can set a good example.”

Jerry took the mask and placed it over his face. He grabbed the top two straps and pulled on them. He then grabbed the bottom two straps and pulled tightly. He repeated the process again to ensure a good seal.

“Now watch as he tests to see that the mask has a good seal with his face,” said Lopez.

Jerry inhaled and the mask flattened noticeably against his face.

“See that? If you inhale, the reduced pressure in the mask will cause it to be pushed against your face. That’s how you know the seal is airtight. Okay, Jerry hook up.”

Jerry took the plug and inserted it into the manifold. There was a momentary hiss as the plug was locked into the connection. Taking a deep breath, there was a brief sound of moving air, identical to that made by Darth Vader.

“Hear that sound? That is the demand regulator releasing air at the correct pressure when it senses the reduced pressure in the mask. If one hundred-pound air were released directly into the mask, it would burst your lungs. Thanks, Jerry.”

Jerry removed the mask, unplugged it and wiped the inside of the mask with a cleaner.

“There isn’t enough air in the mask for you to re-breathe,” cautioned Lopez. “So if you need to move from one manifold to another, be sure to take a deep breath and hold it. Pop the connection and move quickly, but carefully to the next manifold. Any questions?”

Patterson and Davis both watched carefully. Jerry then handed the mask to Foster, who tested and donned it expertly.

After several more of the torpedo gang had gone through the procedure, Patterson raised her hand. “I’d like to try it now.”,

Jerry was amazed all over again. Patience; politeness? He watched as Lopez handed her the mask.

“What am I supposed to do first?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to set it up for me?

Lopez shook his head. “No ma’am. You have to do it all by yourself.”

Patterson looked puzzled, and the lieutenant continued. “What if you were alone? What if we were unconscious?” His tone changed, becoming more intense. “In an emergency, all our lives depend on each other. You have to know how to do this,” he said flatly.

Nodding, she took the mask and started to check it. Lopez guided her through the process telling her what to do, but making her handle the mask, test the seal, and make the attachment. In the end, she was wearing the mask and breathing regularly, a huge smile visible through the faceplate.

She took it off and handed it to Lopez, who turned to Davis. “Your turn, ma’am,” he said, offering her the mask.

Davis quickly shook her head, “I’d like to watch some more, first.”

The officer answered, “All right,” and turned to FT3 Larsen. “Then you’re next. Let’s see if you can do it as well as a civilian.”

Dr. Patterson, arranging her hair, came over to Jerry. “I’ve never done anything quite like this,” she remarked. Then, more softly, “Did those poor men really suffocate on the Bonefish?”

“Yes, ma’am, they teach us all about it in sub school. That submarine didn’t have this kind of safety equipment, though,” he added encouragingly.

She shuddered, then changed the subject. “Is Senator James Thorvald from Nebraska, your uncle?”

“Yes, ma’am, my mother’s oldest brother,” Jerry replied.

“I’ve met him a few times on the Hill. This is what, his fourth term? He’s got a decent record on the environment — for a Republican,” she said with a smile. “I understand he gave you some help getting this assignment.”

“Some, ma’am, he didn’t tell me the details.” Jerry was vague, hoping she’d stop talking about it.

“Oh well, normally it involves making the Pentagon brass do something they don’t want to do. Let’s see, I’m pretty sure he’s on the Senate Armed Services Committee. Which means if the Navy doesn’t give him what he wants, he can make life hard for them when they come before the committee.”

Jerry was becoming more and more uncomfortable and noticed that several of his men, including Foster, were listening to Patterson.

“You’re lucky the senator is on Armed Services. If it had been Small Business or Agriculture, you probably would have been out of luck. But in that case, your uncle might have found a friend on one of the committees that handles defense, like Intelligence or Appropriations, and asked for a favor. There’s almost always a way to make the system work for you.”

“If you’ve got friends in the right places,” someone muttered.

Jerry ignored the comment and tried to explain. “I just asked if he could help, and he said he’d make a few calls.”

“And that’s probably all it took.” Patterson explained. Jerry had never seen her this at ease. She was in her element. This was her world, the world of political give-and-take, and she was very comfortable in it.

“This goes on all the time. For something as simple as this, he probably called the Secretary of the Navy’s office and talked to one of the staffers there. Who made the final decision on your case?”

“The Chief of Naval Personnel,” Jerry answered quietly.

“Does he work for the Secretary of the Navy?”

“No, ma’am, not directly. He reports to the Chief of Naval Operations, who works for the secretary.”

“Oh, okay, then, the secretary’s staff calls the Chief of Naval whatever and he calls the personnel person.”

To ordinary officers and sailors, “BUPERS,” the CNO, and “SECNAV” were not people but mighty beings who could be petitioned and who would, for perverse reasons, grant or deny those requests. The idea of Uncle Jim calling and twisting their arms was unsettling. They had bigger things to worry about. They had a Navy to run.

In spite of the distracting conversation, Lopez had pressed on with the EAB drills. “That’s the last of the torpedo division,” he announced. “Dr. Davis, it’s your turn next. You’ll have to take your glasses off. They aren’t wire rims and they’ll prevent you from getting a good seal.”

Still listening to Patterson, Jerry watched as Davis stepped up, fumbling with the mask as she went through the procedure. He was surprised. Subconsciously, he’d expected her to be more familiar with the gear, being an engineer and all that.