You have been reported as missing and we are here to render assistance. We wish to speak with your Captain.”
Rodionov sat there stunned. An American, not the Northern Fleet, had found them. What was he supposed to do now? Where was the captain?
Shocked out of his stupor, Rodionov reluctantly responded, “Yes, yes. I received your last transmission. I am waiting for my Captain. Please stand by.”
In less than a minute, Petrov, Kalinin, and most of the battle department commanders were in the central post, surrounding the underwater communications station. All were smiling, hope beaming from their faces.
“Have you responded to their hail, Anatoliy?” asked Petrov.
“Yes comrade Captain,” Rodionov replied nervously.
Puzzled by his junior officer’s answer, Petrov looked at him curiously and said, “Then what’s wrong?”
“Captain, it’s not the fleet. We have been found by an American submarine!”
“What!?!” exclaimed Petrov, alarmed. “You mean the one we collided with?”
“I don’t know, sir. They said they were the
An unexplainable anger arose within Petrov as he wondered if this was the same boat that had had a hand in their disaster? If so, where had they been for the last three days? If they were truly here to help them, then why had it taken so long? And where the hell was the Northern Fleet? These questions only served to intensify his fury as he remembered the eighteen men he had lost.
Petrov struggled silently to maintain a professional demeanor, but his clenched jaw betrayed his true emotions. It didn’t matter if this was the same sub that had collided with them. Despite their circumstances, he could not bring himself to speak with an American, any American, right now.
“Captain,” Kalinin asserted softly. “We need to respond.”
Petrov rebelled at his first officer’s gentle admonition. “I am well aware of that, Starpom!” The sheer venom in his response surprised even Petrov.
He saw the reaction of his men, and some of the rage left him. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down and then added, “My apologies, Vasiliy. You are quite correct. I just find the irony of the situation to be highly. aggravating.”
Kalinin’s slight smile told Petrov that all was forgiven without a single word being spoken. After another deep breath, Petrov unplugged the headset, selected the loudspeaker, and picked up the microphone.
“United States submarine, this is Captain First Rank Aleksey Petrov, commanding officer of the Russian Federation submarine
“To whom am I speaking?” asked Petrov. After a brief pause, the American replied.
“Sir, my name is Petty Officer Wayne Sayers.”
“I must compliment you on your Russian, Petty Officer Sayers,” responded Petrov with a tinge of sarcasm. “Who is
“Commander Thomas Rudel is in command of USS
“May I please speak with him directly?”
“Sir, Captain Rudel regrets that he does not speak Russian. Do you speak English?”
“Yes, I do,” Petrov answered clearly, with only a hint of an accent. “I was once an assistant naval attache in your country. May I please speak to Captain Rudel?”
The man doesn’t waste time getting down to business, thought Petrov. The mark of a professional. Still, there was one thing that he had to know before they could get started.
“Captain Rudel, I must know. Was it your submarine that collided with us?”
There was an uncomfortable pause while Petrov waited for Rudel’s reply. It was a straightforward enough question, and he wondered why the American was taking this long to answer it. Finally, Rudel’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
“Yes, Captain, our boats collided a little over three days ago.”
“Why did you hit us?” demanded Petrov angrily.
There was another short pause, but when Rudel did answer his voice sounded tense and angry as well. “It was not my intention to collide with you, Captain. In fact, I was doing everything I thought necessary to avoid just such a situation. My intention was to disengage and evade, as I was concerned with your rather aggressive behavior.”
“THESE ARE OUR WATERS,” yelled Petrov. His face a bright crimson, his body shaking with fury. At that moment, Kalinin placed his hand on Petrov’s shoulder and squeezed tightly. Turning to face his starpom, Petrov saw him shaking his head no. Quietly Kalinin whispered, “Sir, this is not the time to argue with the American.”
Almost as if on cue, Rudel’s response to Petrov’s accusation rang out from the speaker, “Captain Petrov, I will not debate issues of territory or policy right now. I hope there will be time for that later. Right now, my only concern is to assist in the rescue of you and your men.”
Between his starpom’s comment and the American captain’s measured words, a torrent of emotions completely engulfed Petrov. Anger, frustration, guilt, and even shame washed over him. He almost wished the American had been more belligerent. With his ego bruised and his feelings crushed, Petrov let loose a heavy sigh.
Lifting the microphone, he spoke calmly and deliberately. “Agreed, Captain. We will deal with how the collision occurred later. But if you are here to help, why did it take you so long to find us?” The last sentence sounded more like a plea for an explanation, rather than a demand.
“Honestly, we thought you had returned home. I believed that my boat had suffered more damage than you, and we were limping to a friendly port to effect repairs. Given your country’s reputation for building sturdy submarines, we never dreamed you had had the worst of the encounter,” answered Rudel frankly. “It wasn’t until we heard that you were reported as missing that we knew otherwise. After that, it took time for us to get back here and begin searching. My bow is badly torn up and we can’t move very fast.”
Petrov translated Rudel’s explanation for the delay to his subordinates who listened with rapt attention. Some were nodding as the story unfolded.
“Sounds plausible,” said Chief Engineer Lyachin. “It seems consistent with what we know.”
“Plausible?” Kalinin exclaimed. “It’s more than plausible, Captain. It’s believable. This American didn’t have to come back. He could have passed on what he knew to his commander and kept on going to Norway or Great Britain. No one would have questioned such a decision if he has suffered even a fraction of the damage we have. But instead, he turned around and went looking for us; probably at some risk to themselves. I believe this captain is an honorable man, sir.”
Coming from his starpom, a professional naval officer with unusually high standards, this was high praise indeed. Petrov, reluctantly, had to agree. With a weary grin on his face, Petrov raised the microphone once more and said, “Captain Rudel, I accept your explanation and your offer for assistance. Here is our current status.”
“Do you hear that son of a bitch!?!” exclaimed Shimko with total disbelief. “That stupid asshole is blaming us for the collision!”
Rudel rapidly drew his right hand across his throat with a slashing motion and ordered, “Quiet!” Then, in a more normal tone, “I don’t have time for posturing from Petrov or any of you. Let’s stay focused on the task at hand. He’s more than a bit pissed off and I can’t say I’d feel any differently if our roles were reversed.”
Jerry had seen Rudel’s initial reaction, and it was clear he was upset with the Russian captain’s accusation. Being the navigator, Petrov’s words had a particular sting to them that once again raised the ugly specter of doubt in Jerry’s mind. I don’t have time for this, he said to himself, and proceeded to stuff his personal demons back into their box. Jerry then listened as his skipper calmly and carefully disarmed Petrov’s accusations and successfully
