“I am fine, sir.”
“Very well…And one last thing. Good shooting, Mr. Samsonov. You did well, in spite of the missile failure. But have that system thoroughly checked.”
“I will, sir. There will be no more failures.”
“Dismissed. You too, Mister Yazov. You had a sharp eye tonight.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Samsonov smiled, saluted, and left the wardroom with Yazov, leaving Volsky alone with his Captain. The Admiral scratched the back of his neck and then took a sip of cold water.
“As for you, Captain, your decision to engage and your missile selection were correct. The enemy forced us to defend ourselves. But never leave this ship under threat again without sounding general quarters immediately. You owe that much to these men. If that torpedo had detonated…”
“I understand, sir.” There was nothing else Karpov could say.
“We have to be very careful, Karpov; very precise. One mistake, one oversight, one maintenance failure, and we could sustain a damaging hit. To lose eight missiles like that, and to come within inches of taking a torpedo in our gut should be something to keep you awake tonight.”
“It will, sir.”
The Admiral leaned back in his chair, looking at the chart map on the table. “It is going to get worse,” he said quietly. There was no further recrimination in his voice now. He was speaking man to man, and Karpov could hear the shift in his tone, thankful for the measure of respect the Admiral gave him now.
“I will need you, Vladimir. You have a sharp mind, amazing skills, sound tactical judgment.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Volsky pointed to the map. “Yet we must consider strategy as well. Yes, we are a strategic threat, just as you argued earlier. I think we will be here, according to Fedorov, if we maintain this course and speed for another day. That will get us down through this narrow channel. If I know the British, they will have already notified their Home Fleet about us, and we may soon encounter a heavier surface action group intending to intercept us as we exit the Denmark Strait.”
“I agree, sir.”
“We can most likely outrun them. This is our best option.”
“But if we cannot sir?”
Volsky nodded. “Then, Mister Karpov, you will get your chance to fire at a ship worthy of our Sunburn IIs. I would not be too eager to do so, however. We have chastened them, but not really hurt them, and if possible I would like to keep things this way. Consult with Mister Fedorov on the range of the enemy guns. We will see them on radar long before they know where we are, and maneuver to avoid contact wherever possible.”
“Avoid contact? Why should we fear these old ships? We can sink them at our whim, just like we handled these air strikes.”
“For the same reason we should fear those old planes that nearly put a torpedo into us,” said Volsky. “You may think the enemy brings a knife to a gun fight here, but if he gets close, a knife will do!” Our best course is to avoid close contact-use our speed to stay outside the range of their weapons. Their carriers are the only ships that can strike us at range, and I will decide what to do about them.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it, sir.”
“You will? Yes, I suppose you will. But are you also ready for what comes after such an engagement? Thus far we have been sparring with them, nothing more. This business with the air strikes is just the opening round. Sink one of their capital ships, however, and the gloves will come off. They will want vengeance and they will come after us with everything they have. Then our hand is forced to put this ship on a course where the outcome will be far from certain. Keep that in mind, Captain. Keep that in mind.”
Part VII
“As in the mechanism of a clock, so also in the mechanism of military action, the movement once given is just as irrepressible until the final results… Wheels whizz on their axles, cogs catch, fast spinning pulleys whirr…the lever catches, and, obedient to its movement, the wheel creaks, turning, and merges into one movement with the whole, the result and purpose of which are incomprehensible to it.”
Chapter 19
August 4, 1941
The PBY was an early bird out of Reykjavik from Squadron 74, a group of six front line planes scheduled to begin operations there in two days. At the request of the British, it was flying a search pattern over the southern exits of the Denmark Strait as the sun came up after barely leaving them for a brief interval of twilight that passed for night in these northern climes. The days were growing shorter, the twilight thickening just a bit each day, but visibility on the whole was very good where daylight was considered. This morning, however, the weather front that had been slowly tracking down from north of Jan Mayen was upon them, and the cloud cover was thicker, with puffy white clouds at altitude and a grey gauze of thinner low haze below.
With Britain still hard-pressed and America out of the war, President Franklin Roosevelt had ordered the occupation of Iceland by United States forces on 16 June 1941. This assignment was given to the first provisional Marine Brigade, a little over 3700 men out of San Diego California. Commanded by Brigadier General John Marston, the force sailed from Charleston South Carolina where it was surprisingly issued heavy woolen underwear. Soon it was joined by Navy Task Force 19 in Newfoundland before proceeding to Iceland.
The Americans made a strong showing at sea for the journey, sending battleships Arkansas and New York, two heavy cruisers Brooklyn and Nashville, and a screen of thirteen destroyers to escort the transports bringing the Marines out to Reykjavik. A second force designated Task Force 1 was built around the carrier Wasp with heavy cruisers Quincy and Vincennes and several destroyers of Desron 7. It was tasked with general protection of the sea routes between Iceland and Newfoundland.
The Yanks were ashore safely by 12 July, the skirl and drums of the Scottish Regiment of the 49th West Riding Division they were relieving playing a welcome as they came ashore. The Marines of the 1st Brigade were only the first wave of American units slated for duty on Iceland. They would stand a watch, cooperating closely with the British as they planned their withdrawal, until relieved by Army units some time later to be sent to warmer climes in the South Pacific to fight the Japanese the following year. To the British they looked like ghosts from the First World War, still wearing old tin helmets and bearing Springfield bolt action rifles from 1903. The Americans set up facilities in Reykjavik, which they came to call “Rinky-Dink,” and at Hvalsfjord, which they promptly renamed “Valley Forge.” Like the British before them, they were not much welcomed by the Icelandic population, who resented the occupation and wished both the Yanks and the Brits would go home and leave them in peace.
But for now, the Navy set about establishing an air base at Reykjavik to receive patrol squadron VP-73 and VP-74 flying Catalina PBY and Mariner search planes. The Squadrons were not arriving officially until the 6th of August but, flying out ahead of his squadron, Lieutenant Commander Arthur Vosseller had come in a few days early from Argentia Bay in Newfoundland to have a look at his new post. He was amazed to see that he was now the proud commander of a stark empty, open field that had not yet even been fully cleared of large stones and boulders to make for a suitable landing site. Appropriately naming it “Camp Snafu,” he settled in to a British Nissen Hut,
