telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
CHAPTER 11
Admiral Raymond Spruance glanced up at the interruption and smiled tolerantly. “Gentlemen, now that we are all here, we can begin.”
Lieutenant Jamie Priest winced and took a seat at the end of the long table. Even though Spruance seemed to be a pretty easygoing and regular guy, it did not behoove junior officers to piss off admirals by being late for meetings, no matter what the reason.
Nor was Spruance the only admiral at this meeting. Rear Admiral Charles A. Lockwood was present. Lockwood commanded the American submarine forces in the Pacific, and his presence at the meeting was a surprise to Jamie as he was supposed to be in Australia. Lockwood, a belligerent man on the best of days, looked angry and glared at Jamie, probably because Jamie didn’t wear the insignia of a submarine officer.
Next in rank was a Captain Winters, and Jamie knew nothing about him. Nor did he know about a Lieutenant Fargo, who wore the badge of a submariner and who looked at Jamie with an expression that asked: Why the hell are we all here? A young but thin and plain-looking civilian woman with glasses was present to take notes.
“Gentlemen,” Spruance began, “this is an informal meeting to discuss the situation with our submarines and our torpedoes. Our discussions will be preliminary, anecdotal, and nonscientific. All of you are here because you have had unique experiences that may help shed some light on the problem. For that reason, I want this discussion to be free from any concerns about rank.”
Jamie wondered just how freely junior officers could actually speak in front of seniors. Unfortunately, he felt he was going to find out fairly shortly.
Spruance continued. “Admiral Lockwood is here because he commands our subs. Captain Winters is here because, as an engineer with the Bureau of Ordnance, he helped design and build the Mark 14 torpedo. Lieutenant Fargo is here because his sub, the Monkfish, unsuccessfully used Mark 14s to attack a Jap destroyer with results that were almost tragic. Lieutenant Priest is here because, as an officer on the Pennsylvania, he saw the other side of the coin. That is, he saw Japanese torpedoes at work, and there are few around who can lay claim to that dubious honor.”
Jamie flushed as the others looked at him with expressions ranging from surprise to respect. Even Lockwood stopped glaring at him.
“Lieutenant Priest is now a member of our staff,” Spruance added, and Jamie noticed that the young woman had looked up from her reading glasses and smiled tentatively at him. The smile made her look far more attractive than he’d first thought.
The mention of Japanese torpedoes brought forth several frank comments. Spruance, Lockwood, and Winters all admitted that at first they had doubted the range and speed of the Jap torpedoes and felt that the Pennsylvania and her escorts had been hit by an enemy sub that had actually been much closer than the Japanese surface ships. Jamie admitted he’d had his doubts as well.
“But now we know better,” Spruance said. “The Japs have a torpedo they fire from surface vessels. It’s called the ‘Long Lance’ and with good reason. It has a range of more than ten miles compared with the Mark 14’s two and a quarter, and leaves no wake, which means it’s oxygen-powered. I might add that it has a helluva lot greater hitting power than ours as well.”
“It also works,” Lockwood snapped, which earned him a glare from Winters. “There’s a smaller version for their subs that is also better than the Mark 14.”
Spruance gestured for peace. “We know we have a problem. What Admiral King, Admiral Nimitz, and I want is a solution, or at least the beginning of a solution. Gentlemen, there are very few submarine targets in the Atlantic; therefore the bulk of our torpedo targets will be here in the Pacific. This is our problem, and we must move to solve it.”
Spruance reprised the situation as he understood it. Torpedoes were being fired at Japanese shipping, but many of them were either malfunctioning or missing. No one was entirely certain which. He then invited Captain Winters to describe the torpedo.
Winters had the no-nonsense look of an engineer, and he also seemed put out that the worth of the Mark 14 torpedo was being questioned. “We built the best torpedo in the world,” he said firmly.
“At least until the Japs showed up with theirs,” Lockwood interjected.
Less subjectively, Winters went on to describe the Mark 14. It had a magnetic trigger that was designed to explode when it was affected by the earth’s magnetic field as a ship passed overhead. The torpedoes were to be set at depths that would ensure this would occur. When it worked, the explosion would break a ship’s keel and sink her more efficiently than a contact torpedo.
The Mark 14 could also be used as an impact torpedo. It had a sophisticated detonator that was supposed to explode the torpedo when it hit an enemy’s hull.
Problem was, as Admiral Lockwood growled, it didn’t work out that way. He turned the floor over to Lieutenant Fargo, who described the Monkfish’s attack on the Japanese destroyer.
“Our new commanding officer, Commander Griddle, was an experienced submariner. The targeting was good, but not one of our four torpedoes hit. As directed, they were all set to run under a target, and we believe they did. But not one exploded.”
Winters shook his head in disbelief. “First of all, four is far too many for one target. You just cannot fire torpedoes so wastefully. Second, you must have done something wrong. I would like to talk to Mr. Griddle.”
“He’s in a San Francisco hospital,” Fargo said stiffly. “He lost one eye during the depth charge attack that took place right after we missed, and may lose the other. As to what we did, I double-checked everything that Commander Griddle ordered, and while he was doing it. I even saw the destroyer through the periscope and confirmed range, course, and targeting plot. There were no mistakes. The torpedoes were set to detonate at the proper depth and they didn’t do it.”
“And this is just one incident out of many,” Lockwood said. “There are reports like this coming from all over the place.”
“I can only add,” Winters said, “that the torpedoes should be exploding. We’ve checked the ones remaining on the Monkfish, and there’s nothing wrong with them. Is it possible, Admiral Lockwood, either that your officers are not following regulations in the heat of battle or they don’t know enough about engineering?”
Fargo bristled. “Sir, we followed all directions. I would also add that, as a Naval Academy graduate, I have a damned solid knowledge of engineering.”
Lockwood leaned forward and glowered at Winters. “Look, I know everyone at BuOrd thinks my boys are a bunch of undisciplined, raggedy-assed pirates, but that’s not so! They’re brave, yes, even reckless, but they’re not stupid. Every one of them wants to make a kill and get his ass home in one piece.”
Jamie turned to see how the woman was taking the dialogue. She looked up at him, and he saw sadness in her eyes.
“We’re getting nowhere,” Spruance said with a touch of exasperation.
Now, Jamie thought. “Sir, may I ask a question of Captain Winters?”
“Of course.”
“Captain Winters, I was late for this meeting because of a phone call I got from a friend. He too worked on the Mark 14 and said something that disturbed me. Sir, was the Mark 14 ever live-fired with a warhead at a target?”
Winters nodded. “I know where you’re coming from, son. The Mark 14 was thoroughly tested.”
Jamie persisted. “With respect, sir, that isn’t what I asked. Was a live torpedo ever fired at a target ship, and, if so, what were the results?”
“I don’t want to bore you with the scientific details, but rest assured that the Mark 14 was thoroughly tested.”
Spruance stepped in, his curiosity piqued by Winters’s evasion. “Captain, answer the young man’s question. Yes or no?”
“To the best of my knowledge, perhaps once. Perhaps not at all.”
