“Do we have communications with anyone right now?" Bill Fagan continued his questioning.
“Only voice with those F-14’s. The OSPREY’s are over the UHF horizon and everything else has been satellite. How important is this message, anyway?" Chief Tyler asked.
“Chief, the Skipper says that it is as important as you can get. We need to get it to SUBPAC anyway that we can. Let me tell him the problem,” the XO answered.
He had just turned to walk to the CO’s stateroom when he saw Hunter maneuver through the door into control.
Hunter stepped to the periscope stand, saying, “I heard that. This is Murphy’s Law at its worst. We have to have that message to SUBPAC immediately. We have less than half an hour. Chief, have you tried switching masts, transmitters and cesium clocks?”
Chief Tyler answered, “Yes, sir. I’ve tried every possible combination.” The tone of his voice said that he was hurt by the Skipper’s implication that he might not have tried the most basic troubleshooting.
“Figured that you had, Chief,” Hunter answered in an attempt to smooth the Chief’s ruffled feathers. “Had to ask to make sure. Are you sure that the only circuit is with the F-14? Long haul HF won’t work?”
“Skipper, I checked the propagation charts,” Chief Tyler answered, even more in a huff. “There is a point three percent probability of reaching the HF relay station on Guam. That is the highest. The F-14 is it,” He said with finality.
“OK, Chief. Get that F-14 pilot on voice. He is about to get the biggest surprise of his life,” CDR Hunter said. “I hope that the NIMITZ comm center is up to snuff and has a circuit that works.”
Hunter grabbed the red secure voice phone and started talking.
Doc Pugh walked into the control room. His patient was not responding to anything and was rapidly deteriorating. If he didn’t get help soon, Doc was afraid that he would lose him before they had any hope of reaching a medical facility. The only help within several thousand miles was onboard either NIMITZ or ESSEX. If he could just talk with one of their doctors, maybe they had the answers.
“Skipper, I need to talk to you,” Doc Pugh said as he stepped up to the periscope stand.
“Doc, if you are up here to tell me to take it easy, I don’t have time right now,” CDR Hunter retorted with exasperation. “I’m a little busy.”
Just then the F-14 pilot that he had been talking with on the secure voice circuit asked for yet another repeat of the message. The two Lieutenants flying in that bird were in way over their heads with this situation. The comms center onboard the NIMITZ wasn’t helping matters any either. Hunter was growing increasingly frustrated.
“It’s not that, Skipper, but it’s really important,” Doc continued. “I need to talk with you.”
“Doc, talk with the XO. I really don’t have time right now,” Hunter said with finality.
Doc Pugh turned to the XO, who had been standing beside the Skipper listening in utter disbelief to what Hunter was telling the pilots. It was an absolutely unbelievable, horrible story. He tore his attention away from the radio interchange to listen to Doc Pugh. “OK, Doc. What is it?”
Doc Pugh opened his medical text to a marked page and began to talk, “I have been trying to figure out what is wrong with my patient. He has not been responding to the treatments I have been giving him. His symptoms are pointing me here.”
The paragraph that he pointed to started out with, “The meniges are the three membranes that encase the brain and spinal cord, the pia mater, arachnoid, and the dura mater.”
“I think that we have a problem with either a subdural hematoma or a subarchnoid hemorrhage. You can see the list of symptoms here. I discounted the headaches and nausea. After all, he did punch out of a jet at 600 knots and swallowed a lot of seawater when he hit it. He complained that he was dizzy, but I discounted that, too. What I can’t write off to the expected effects of the crash are a couple items. First, he complains of tingling in his right arm. His motor responses show a partial paralysis in that arm. He also has some selective amnesia.
“I can’t tell from the symptoms which problem we have. I don’t have the equipment or training to tell them apart. Now look at this,” Doc Pugh concluded, pointing at the final paragraph of the explanation for subarachnoid hemorrhage. It said:
“About one-third of all patients die from the initial hemorrhage, and a further 15 to 20 percent die within the next month. It is therefore necessary to locate the area of bleeding as quickly as possible. Neurosurgery may repair the damage”
“I need to talk with those Doctors on NIMITZ and find out what to do” Doc said as the XO looked up from reading the troubling words.
Bill Fagan turned to CDR Hunter, “Skipper, we need to use that pilot as soon as you are done.”
22 Jun 2000, 2045LT (23 Jun, 0745Z)
Admiral O’Flanagan threw down the flimsy sheet of paper and grabbed the red phone from his desk. He hurriedly dialed a well-remembered number as he glanced anxiously at the wall clock.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs answered the secure phone, “Schwartz here.”
“General, they did it! Everything. Call off the special mission. We only have a few minutes. I’ll give you details when I have them,” COMSUBPAC reported.
General Schwartz yelled across his desk at the National Defense Command Center, deep in the
