Chapter 46 Chapter Forty-Five

Victor.Wearing a steel helmet and a life jacket, Henry stood on the left wing and watched the red tracer rounds fired by his ship's main guns fly into the sultry night sky one after another.Under a large area of ​​green and white flares drifting slowly, a faint array of enemy ships appeared on the sea surface of Guadalcanal Island, faintly visible in the smoke and the spray of the "Northampton"'s fork shot into the sky . "Torpedo!...A torpedo was found in front of Jianshou's left!...Captain, a torpedo was found on the left, and the entry angle is ten degrees!"

Surveillance posts, telephone messengers.The officers and sailors on the bridge all shouted together.Pug heard the shouts and saw the tails of the approaching torpedoes, though the continual roar of the battery was so deafening that his ears could barely hear and his eyes were blinded by the blinding fire. Wave.Pug made a quick decision and shrieked, "At full power!" (Turning the bow to face the wakes, trying to slip through the gaps between them; this was the only chance of escape.) "Full port rudder, captain." The helmsman's voice was high and firm. "Full rudder left, sir."

"great." Almost directly in front, two shining phosphorescent lights cut through the dark and calm sea water, approaching the head of the gauge, and galloped past at a slight angle.What a close call!The other three heavy cruisers had been hit by torpedoes, yellow flames were burning among the crew members, and thick plumes of smoke shot straight into the sky.The three damaged cruisers were the USS Minneapolis, USS Pensacola and USS New Orleans.The torpedoes, like fish, swarmed around the team.Where did the torpedo come from?Was it launched by a fleet of submarines?The engagement had been a disaster in the first fifteen minutes, and if his own warship had—!When the warship turned around, the two green wakes disappeared.Then it appeared again, and flashed right below, all of which the captain could see clearly.There was a confused shouting all around him.God, this is going to hit!He grabbed the bulwark and stopped breathing...

A fire! With a bang, the night was suddenly as bright as the sun. HMS Northampton was sunk in the night battle of 30 November 1942, a naval battle that has faded from memory.The Japanese navy is now dead, but the U.S. Navy has little reason to consider Tassafaronga anything to be thankful for. It was a foolish and futile disaster. At that time, the United States controlled Guadalcanal by sea, air and land.In order to provide supplies for the soldiers suffering from hunger and disease on the island, the Japanese quietly drove the destroyer into the small bay called Tassafaronga, rolled barrels of fuel and food from the ship into the sea, and then returned to the sea. They were towed back by boats from the island.These destroyers did not come to fight.But Halsey commanded a small fleet of cruisers to sail the six hundred miles from the New Hebrides to Guadalcanal to snipe and sink a large new landing force of the enemy.In fact, such a landing force did not exist at all.This was a false alarm caused by inaccurate information.

The Rear Admiral, who commanded the fleet, took over only two days before departure.This fleet was formed by the remnants of the previous battles on Guadalcanal after dismantling the original organization.The Rear Admiral was not familiar with conditions in the area, and his ships had not trained together.The 67th Task Force has the advantages of radar, surprise attacks and powerful firepower, and it could have completely wiped out the enemy.Because the Japanese had only eight destroyers, while he had four cruisers, one light cruiser, and six destroyers. But when he drew up the battle plan, he thought that the torpedoes of the Japanese destroyers, like the American weapons, had a range of only twelve thousand yards.In fact, Japanese torpedoes were capable of firing up to 20,000 yards.If fired at a low speed, the range can be doubled, and its warhead is much more destructive.Before the fleet sailed north, the Rear Admiral called a meeting, and Victor was at the meeting.Henry mentioned this.Prior to this, as early as 1939, he had written a memorandum on Japanese torpedoes, and it was this memorandum that changed his entire career.But the new general repeated dryly: "We're going to close twelve thousand yards to the enemy ship and then open fire."

This could not allow Pug to have any further objections to this. On the night of November 30, the commander of the Japanese destroyer fleet was trapped in a sea area near the coast where there was no room for maneuver, and his firepower was greatly disadvantaged. The eight-inch caliber shells fired by the cruiser rained down on his surroundings. , flares blazing overhead, his fleet enveloped in the smoke and splashing waves of American gunfire.Therefore, in a desperate attempt, he fired all the torpedoes as far as the flames from the muzzles.The bully torpedo warheads hit all four American heavy cruisers.The Japanese slipped away victorious, unscathed.

Thunderous blasts tore Pug apart.Henry's eardrum.He was knocked to his knees by the blast.He struggled to jump up.The whole hull was like a train that had run off the rails, staggering and tossing to and fro.To make matters worse, the hull suddenly listed, which was worse than flames on the port side.Drowsily he estimated—within a few seconds—that the ship had tilted at least ten degrees.What a hole must have been made by the torpedo! The Juno was torpedoed and sank with a bang, a scene he couldn't forget.He rushed into the cab and grabbed the microphone. "Listen, I'm the captain," he heard himself yell through the loudspeaker on the deck below, "filling the ammunition depot in number three turret, throwing spare five-inch shells into the sea. Say it again, Fill the ammunition depot in the No. 3 turret and drop the spare five-inch shells into the sea! Call back!"

The telephone orderly shouted loudly that the order had been heard and was being carried out.The deck was still shaking and shaking. The Northampton seemed to have hit a rock, but Pug knew he was now in water six hundred fathoms down.He picked up the microphone and strode out of the pilothouse to the port side of the ship. He was taken aback by the heat wave that hit his face.It was almost as if the hearth door had been opened.The entire stern of the ship was blazing with flames, illuminating the surrounding water orange-red in this dark night. "Attention all officers and men. I am the captain. The port rear of our ship was hit by a torpedo, or maybe two torpedoes. Report the damage quickly. The fire brigade and rescue team immediately dispatched to the stern to assist Control the fire and prevent the water from being blocked. Deputy captain, go to the bridge and stick to your post..."

After several months of hard training, the words and sentences of issuing orders flashed quickly in his mind.The sailors found this kind of training the most boring and boring, but now it works.In the cab, the telephone orderlies were relaying damage reports in low voices.The officer of the watch and the helmsman hunched over the chart table covered with hull charts, scribbling the deck charts of the lower deck with black and red pencils; black for seawater, red for fire.The first reports of serious damage were three stalled propeller shafts, failure of communications and power equipment, flooding and oiling of deck and D decks.While giving orders, Pug was thinking about rescue measures.It's worth the effort to get the fire under control, stop the flooding, and get enough time to get back to port.Tulagi Island is eighteen miles away.Three other wounded ships had sailed towards the island.

"Go to the aft boiler room, and repair the ruptured fuel and steam pipes. All the pumps that still have power, pump the fuel from port to starboard, pump the water in the port tank to the sea, and..." Another explosion!The deck beneath his feet shook violently.Far from the stern, a thick, black jet of oil emerged from the back of the deck of the lifeboat, like an oil well in Texas. The artillery fired at the command room and poured down on the deck, and a sticky thick rain fell around the No. 3 turret.Flames climbed up the oil-soaked mast.Against the smoky sky, stands a tower of bright fire.Explosions continued to occur on the lower deck, splashing oil rain on the fire.

If it goes on like this, the warship won't last long.No matter how long the hull is, and no matter how thick the artillery is, it is just a colossus that cannot be attacked.Its stability and resistance to damage are pitifully poor.The warship was not built to operational requirements, but to the stupid quotas of a treaty signed by politicians.Pug knew this all along, and he scrambled to train for critical incidents.Alas, too bad the torpedo just hit the heavy cruiser's Achilles' heel, hitting the aft part of the jerry-built armor belt, blasting a big hole in the main fuel tank, and almost certainly, the porous engine And the boiler room was also blown up.It will be a difficult voyage to Tulagi Island.The sea below must have poured into the cabin like a waterfall. At present, the use of water pumps to pump water can be controlled for the time being.Since the body is very long, there is about two million cubic feet of space, which is a lot of buoyancy.As long as his ship didn't explode immediately, as long as the enemy stopped torpedoing it, as long as the fire could be contained, he might be able to get the ship into port.Even if she had been driven into the shallows, the "Northampton" would still have been worth saving.Fire brigade crews dragging light trucks and hoses around the comical deck can be seen moving in the blinding firelight, glistening jets of water stirring up billows of orange-red vapor .Damage reports poured in to the bridge above, and the tone of voice of the officers and sailors became as if they were following the rules.There was still power in the engine room at the bow; a single propeller was enough to propel the wounded warship to the port of Tulagi. Despite the heart-wrenching torpedoing of a warship, a catastrophic defeat was a foregone conclusion; although the fire and sound from a warship at night was horrific--the blinding fire, the deafening din, the howls , exclamations, the pungent burning smell, the glaring smoke, the ever-inclining gauge, the nightmarish red light on the black sea, the combined noise of inter-ship communications and sailors' speeches on the bridge— Despite the perilous situation, despite the need to make decisive and bold decisions, Victor.Henry wasn't flustered, nor was he downcast. Instead, he felt so energetic for the first time since Midway.He returned to the pilothouse and shouted through the intercom: "Hawkeye, Hawkhead, I have the same eyes, please answer." The answer came in a serious drawl: "Hawkeye, Hawkhead is listening, please answer—" At this moment an older voice broke in, "Don't hang up, lad, he's aboard the Northampton The Pug. Henry, I want to speak to him...Hello, Pug. Is that you?" Admirals don't care about communication procedures. "How's it going with you, man? Looks like you're not doing well from here." "Here" refers to the "Honolulu", the only undamaged cruiser in the task force, casting a long and narrow shadow in the northwest direction. It escaped from the torpedo attack waters under the cover of destroyers. "General, we still have an engine room and a propeller. We are also driving to Tulagi Island. We want to repair it while driving, or repair it." "There's a sea of ​​fire on your tail." "We're working hard to put out the fire." "Do you need help?" "Not yet." "Pug, according to the radar screen the bandits are retreating west. I'm going to circle Savo Island and engage them out of torpedo range. Hey, if you need help, I'll send some Go lad." "Yes, yes, sir. Good luck with your search. No need to answer." "Good luck, Pug." While talking on the phone, the deputy captain came to the pilothouse. He was wearing a steel helmet, and his chubby face was covered with soot and sweat.He is responsible for the rescue of warships, while the captain commands and drives the warships.Through many campaigns, bombardments, long voyages, and overhauls at the Navy Yard, Pug had built up his confidence in the round-faced, taciturn Idahoan.Although in terms of personal relationship, they take care of each other and keep a distance.In the appraisal report that Pug sent up for Grieg last time, he said that he was capable of serving as the captain of a ship.The latest issue of the "Navy Gazette" reported that Grieg has been promoted to four bars, and everyone expects him to succeed the captain of the "Northampton" at any time.Pug had been ordered to fly back to Washington as soon as someone "takes over" his duties.With Greg in charge of the rescue, Pug had time to think.It seemed that he himself was out of luck!Grieg's appointment may be on the way, but it arrives too late, putting him in a night battle that got off to a bad start as a captain.If he lost this warship, he would inevitably be subject to court-martial proceedings, and he couldn't justify himself by saying that a stupid commander used a nonsense battle plan to get him into torpedo-traveled waters. The fire was no longer spreading so rapidly, and the main bulkhead was above the water; so was the report he had heard.But Pug was watching two indicators: an inclinometer, whose needle was creeping slowly to the left, and a plumb line he had attached himself.It showed that the aft part of the ship was sinking.He wanted to turn around and head northeast toward Tulagi Island.All phone systems are down.Even the sound transmission lines, some were soaked by sea water and grounded, some were burned, and some were shaken loose.For the orderly to transmit every order to the foremast, it must first pass along the main deck, through a passage filled with smoke and water and oil, and then go down several decks to the bow cabin.It was irritating to direct the navigation of warships with such a slow program, but it was finally getting back to normal.At this time Greg was sending a rescue team to rescue the soldiers in the flooded cabin.Wounded soldiers were accommodated on the uppermost deck.The shooting command team was trapped in the artillery shooting command room on the raging mainmast. The rescue team members in asbestos protective clothing, spraying misty water droplets behind them, climbed up slowly and rescued them, lest They were roasted alive by the fire. Straight ahead on the horizon, Florida bulged out of the sea, hiding Tulagi in its shadow.Now the warship has tilted to 20 degrees, which is equivalent to the tilt of a heavy cruiser swinging and bumping in a level eight gale.The oil spread out to make the sea appear calmer, and the Northampton list lifelessly to port.It's a race between water intake speed and remaining power capabilities.Had Grieg held the ship before daylight, it would have been possible to reach Tulagi after the other three wounded ships, now far ahead, billowing bright smoke.While Pug was preparing at the mainmast, Greg came up to him and wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Sir, we'd better stop the ship." "Stop the ship? I just put it on course." "The bracing system on decks C and D is down, sir." "But what do we do, Greg, just stay here and let it float, filled with sea water? I can reduce the engine speed." "Also, Captain, Chief Engineer Stark says engine four is out of oil. The pumps won't keep the ship from tipping." "I see. From this point of view, I must ask the admiral to send some destroyers." "I think you should, sir." Grieg's report on the lube was almost a death sentence.Both of them knew this in their hearts, and they both knew that the lube system was poorly designed.Pug suggested modification early on, but to no avail. "Yes, even if we burn out all the bearings, we're going to get closer to Tulagi." "Captain, no matter how short the voyage is, we will not be able to enter the port no matter what." "then what should we do?" “I’m going to do everything I can to resist capsizing water injection. Our low pumping capacity is a headache. As long as I can correct the ship’s list by five degrees and double the support system, we’ll be able to sail forward again. " "Excellent. I'll go down and have a look. You asked Hawkhead to send destroyers. Tell them our ship is on fire and immobilized at sea. The ship is listed at twenty-two degrees and the stern is heavily down." Pug descended onto the heavily sloping main deck, which was covered with black ankle-deep oil and a foul stench, and slid past the firefighters to the quarterdeck. Go to a big gap in the tank where the oil comes from.He leaned his body out of the ship's side, and he could see the breach in the steel plate of the ship's hull turned outwards, extending into the sea. This breach was blown open by a torpedo.This big black hole in the hull, the edge of the blasted steel plate is like the opening of a can that was opened indiscriminately, this scene he will never forget.The hole below the waterline is reported to be even larger.Pug felt dizzy as he leaned on the lifeline, thinking that the ship might capsize soon.It's okay for a warship to list more and more.Pug walked past the badly wounded and burned, all lying in rows on the aft deck, tended by medics.Transferring them takes time.Pug returned to the bridge with a heavy heart, called the first officer aside, and told him to abandon the ship. Victor in about an hour.Henry took a last look around the empty cab.The small steel structure is silent and clean.The helmsman and officers of the watch have removed all logbooks and records.Confidential information has been put into the bag with added weight and thrown into the sea.Below, the sailors are concentrating on the position of preparing to abandon the ship.The giant elephant is a dark, calm lake.Four flaming warships were scattered on the sea, like four fallen yellow stars.Four rescue destroyers have departed.Sharks are a threat.At last count, there were about sixty officers and men who would never leave the ship, missing, burned, drowned, or blown up.If there are no other accidents, such a sacrifice figure is not too great. Now Pug looked anxious and wanted his sailors to leave the ship as soon as possible.Because a wounded heavy cruiser is a prime target for submarines.The last thing he did was grab a pair of gloves from the emergency pod, a folded photo frame containing a graduation photo of Warren and an old family photo of both Warren and Byron A skinny lad, and Madeleine was just a little girl in a paper wreath.Tucked into the frame were two small snapshots, one of Pamela.One by Tudsbury, huddled in a gray fur coat, standing in the snow outside the Kremlin; another by Natalie in the gardens of Siena with her baby in her arms.He was about to go down the ladder when he saw the battle flag of the "Northampton" folded on top of the flag bag, so he reached out and took it away. Greg was waiting for him, standing on the sled-like slope of the main deck, the firelight flickering and jumping in his face.He took his time to report the assembly to Pug. "Okay, let's abandon ship, Greg." "Are you coming, then, Captain?" "No," he handed the battle flag to Greg, "I will disembark at that time. Take this, and you can use it as the flag on the warship you command in the future. Please put this frame on my Keep the family photos dry, okay?" Grieg tried to argue that there was still a way to resist capsizing water injection.Some of the water pumps are still working, and he also said that emergency rescue is his specialty.If the captain does not leave the ship, the ship officer can command the motor lifeboat and let him take care of the soldiers at sea. He wants to stay. "Grigg, abandon ship," Pug interrupted Greg with a stern, deadpan order. Grieg tried to stand upright and saluted him.Pug saluted him back, saying in familiar informality, "Well, good luck to you, Jim. It turns out we made a mistake going west." "No, sir. There's no other way than that. We've got range. We gave these dogs a pinch-bombardment. Is it okay to let them slip away that easily? Peter Cole "Our last volley hit a cruiser, and right after we hit those two torpedoes, they saw the flames and the smoke from the explosion," he said. "Yes, he said the same to me. Perhaps we can confirm the result. However, we should have turned around and changed course like the Honolulu. But it is too late now." The deputy captain looked up and down the sloping deck blankly and desolately. "I'll never forget 'Nara Maru'." Pug couldn't help laughing in surprise.The name was a nickname given to the warship by the sailors, though neither he nor Greg had ever called it that in the past. "Hurry up and get off the ship." The davit suspends the motor lifeboat full of wounded out of the ship's side. The lifeboat is so close to the water surface that the sailors only need to cut off the davit pulley.The life raft was also hoisted out of the ship's side.Hundreds of almost naked sailors descended in groups on the cargo net and slid down the rope.Many made the cross before leaving the ship.There was a loud splashing sound on the sea below.Those who fell into the water called to each other and to those on deck, very faintly. They all went down to the surface of the sea soon.Rafts, lifeboats, and flickering human heads drifted away with the current.Two destroyers were looming, approaching from a distance.The slight warm wind carried the voices of the officers and soldiers—the sailors' cries for help, whistles, and shouts of greeting each other in the dark.This time, Pug thought, no one would be burned, and if anyone drowned, it would be rare, although sharks were a menace.It was luck that the oil slick on the water did not catch fire. Pug remained on board with a small volunteer rescue crew and a sergeant major.Miracles happen on damaged ships.Once the fire is over, it can extinguish itself.There was even such a strange thing happened, the inexplicable water intake straightened a huge tilting wheel.At Midway, the captain of the "Yorktown" boarded the warship again a long time after abandoning the ship with embarrassment. If he had not been attacked by submarines the next day, he might have been able to save the warship.Pug and the remaining volunteers may not have survived the capsizing of the warship or the torpedo attack.But as long as the "Northampton" does not sink before dawn, a cable can be tied and the warship can be towed away. The level of filth and indiscretion on the wide, empty deck was unprecedented.There was a silence all around, which gave people a strange dream-like feeling.Holding on to the shackles, support posts, and lifelines, Pug groped his way to the forward deck to see the readiness of the towing cables.He looked back at the sinking warship, the tilt was indeed very serious.The port side gun still maintained the elevation angle when firing, but now it is parallel to the sea surface. If the "Northampton" hadn't been so steeply tilted, were it not for the yellow sparks that reflected the outlines of the masts and guns, everything else would have looked the same.Goodbye, "Naramaru"! At the stern, he staggered around the abandoned hand pump, stepped over the coiled pile of hose, and there was a mess of discarded things everywhere-clothes, food, cigarette boxes, books, papers, Shell casings, coffee mugs, half-eaten sandwiches, oil-soaked lifejackets, shoes, boots, steel helmets, all gave off a rotting stench of excrement and garbage as sailors defecated on deck; People still smell of burnt and gasoline, especially the smell of gasoline, everywhere!This acidic stench of crude oil, to Victor.For Henry, it will always be a disastrous smell. For the next hour he watched the rescue team stagger to work, mostly pumping water and putting out fires.The sailors had to act like monkeys, grabbing or kicking on any protruding things on the deck with their hands and feet, so as not to slip on the oil-soaked deck.Their mouths were tightly shut, their faces illuminated by the fire were expressionless, and they looked towards the sea from time to time.At a quarter past two Pug finally decided that the Northampton was beyond salvage.To stay on it any longer is to risk the lives of the sailors just to add glory to himself.The warship may float on the water for another hour, or it may not float; it may capsize without any warning. "Master Chief, let's abandon ship." "Yes, sir." As soon as the sailors heard this, they threw the last big raft overboard.It fell to the water with a splash.The grey-haired, potbellied master sergeant, the best mechanic on board, urged the captain to go first.Pug refused categorically, and the sergeant major kicked off his shoes, stripped off his clothes except for a pair of oil-stained shorts, and tied the lifejacket around his sweaty, snow-white fat waist. "Okay, everyone obeys the captain's order, let's go." Like a boy, he climbed the straight hanging cargo net and slid down, and the sailors slid down after him. During the last minute alone on deck Pug tasted a bitter taste of life and death.It is inconceivable to die with the warship, because according to the tradition of the US Navy, preserving itself is to serve the country again in the future.Other traditions, for all their romance and honor, are foolish.Drowning yourself is of no use in fighting the enemy.He whispered a prayer for the fallen soldiers left behind on the great ship.He stripped naked except for a pair of shorts and put on the same pair of gloves he had been carrying in the cab.During abandon ship training in the past, he always felt for a thick, suspended cable and went down section by section with both hands alternately.Not only did it gratify a little of his vanity--for he was good at it--but it was useful that quite a few sailors did it his way.In an emergency, the ladder and the net may not be found for a while, but the rope is always there. Thick white and brown ropes rubbed against his bare legs as Pug descended into the dark tropical water.He let go and splashed into the water.The sea made him feel good, warm as a bath, and it worked.He swam through the sticky mass of the oil slick to the raft, which was still towed by a cable attached to a lug on the deck.Naked sailors crowded the raft, and swimmers circled the raft, clutching the nooses with their hands. "Sergeant Major, is everyone here?" "It's all here, Captain." Some sailors wanted to make room for him on the raft. "Don't move, don't move. Let go!" A knife flickered in the firelight, and the cable came free.The sailors rowed away from the sinking warship with their oars.Victor.Henry wiped his hair and face with his hands, spitting out the stench of gasoline in his mouth, and watched the warship sink.Seen from the bottom up, the warship still presents a majestic appearance. The huge hull extends to occupy half of the horizontal line. It is struggling painfully and slowly capsizing. One end of the warship is burning like a torch.The sailors on the rafts yelled loudly and whistled loudly to the nearby destroyers and lifeboats.A wave hit Pug, splashing gasoline in his eyes.While he was washing his eyes, he heard shouts: "It's sinking." He propped himself up on his wrists, and saw the "Northampton" turn over and capsize, the bow of the ship was raised high, and the sea water brought up was dripping down.The fire was extinguished, the warship sank slowly, and the sailors stopped shouting and whistling.There was silence on the raft as the bow of the ship sank, and Pug heard, through the slap of the water, the churning and howling cries of the eddies engulfing the warship.