Chapter 64 Chapter 63

The "Moray" set off for the first time for combat readiness reconnaissance. At this time, the quality of American torpedoes had not passed the test, and the Pacific Submarine Fleet was worried about two major problems: dumb torpedoes and useless captains.Although the naval authorities kept these two alarming flaws secret, the submarine crews knew that the magnetic detonator of the Mark XIV torpedo was unreliable, and there were also a group of captains who were either too cautious and should be sent to the port, or should be sent to the port in case of an enemy attack. Attack like the Blanche.There are only a handful of people who can combine calmness, bravery and skillful technology with ace captains like Esther, and are good at seizing favorable opportunities. These people are called figurative Famous men—the sentimental Morton, the dauntless Freddie Ward, Mrs. Esther, the red Cole—were pacesetters in the Pacific submarine fleet, inspiring other captains to fight despite the torpedo attacks. Silent bad luck. Against all odds, they were able to kill the enemy and get away.

A large placard above General Halsey's Forward Headquarters in the Solomon Islands read: Kill the Japanese Kill More Japanese took a photo of the placard. April 19, 1943, was another day of fighting; it was at Byron.Henry's mind was deeply imprinted.It's also a fateful day for others elsewhere. On April 19th, after repeated delays, the Bermuda International Conference officially opened. The meeting will make a decision on how to assist "war refugees".Leslie.Slote attended the meeting as a member of the US delegation.It was on this April 19th, the eve of Passover, that the Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto launched an uprising after learning that the Germans were about to wipe out the entire Jewish Ghetto—a handful of fighters from the secret resistance movement competed with the German army. Can be like Sammy.Like Mutterpur, he died with several Germans.

On April 19, the mourning Japanese sent Admiral Yamamoto into the flames.The Japanese hadn't realized that their code had been broken, so they used it to broadcast Yamamoto's plan to fly a risky tour of the various forward bases.U.S. fighter jets ambushed Yamamoto in mid-air. They rushed past the Zero escorting Yamamoto and shot down Yamamoto's bomber.In the jungles of Bouyville Island, a search team finally found the charred body of Yamamoto, wearing full military parade uniform and clutching his saber.Thus died one of Japan's finest men. On April 19, the American and British forces that had besieged Rommel in Tunisia in North Africa were closing in on a German defeat comparable to Stalingrad.

On April 19, the Soviet Union reached the point of breaking with the Polish government-in-exile.The Nazis have been making a big splash about the discovery of the bodies of some 10,000 Polish Army officers buried in the uniforms of the Polish Army in the Kayan Forest, on land occupied by the Russians since 1941 .The Germans expressed their extreme disgust at this Soviet atrocity, and at the same time they are inviting neutral countries to send delegations to observe these horrific houses.Since Stalin had publicly massacred his own Red Army officers, the accusation was at least not necessarily fictional, and Polish politicians in London suggested an investigation.All this made the Russian government furious, and on April 19 the excitement reached its peak.

In this way, events continued; but, generally speaking, on all fronts throughout the world, the war just went on, weak in some places, fierce in others.There was no major turning point on April 19th.But no one on the Moray will ever forget that day. Things start off with a head-on launch. "Open the forward launch torpedo door," Esther said. Byron had goosebumps all over his body, and the submariners often talked about firing torpedoes head-on.They usually talked about it while sitting comfortably in the bar on land or late at night in the officer's sitting room on the boat.Esther used to say that, as an extreme measure, he would try this method of launching torpedoes.While practicing his new boat off Honolulu, he had fired a number of practice torpedoes at a destroyer heading straight for him.Even the exercise of firing practice torpedoes was daunting.There are not many captains who use this tactic to deal with the enemy and return to the defense safely.

Esther picked up the microphone, his voice calm and composed, but still a little trembling as he tried to suppress the anger in his mouth. "Attention all officers and men, the enemy ship is approaching us along the wake of our torpedo. I want to launch a torpedo on it. We have been tracking this convoy for three days. I don't want to let the torpedo fail. Escape. Our torpedoes are very accurate, but unfortunately they are all dull mines. At present, we still have 12 torpedoes on board, and the important targets are on the water, a troop carrier and two huge cargo ships. There is only one escort ship The convoy is going to run away if it forces us to the bottom and hits us for a while. So I'm going to attack it in shallow water with a contact detonator. Good job."

The periscope remained above the water.The first officer reported the distance, bearing, and target angle in one breath, with a tense and calm voice; his name was Peter.Bateman, thirty years old, with a bald head like an egg, was a man of few words, but a great wit.Byron turned the crank quickly, entered the data into the computer, and estimated the side speed of the destroyer to be forty knots.This is an incredible calculation problem, and the speed of the calculation is astonishingly fast.Such speeds were not achieved on attack trainers or during head-on launch exercises off Honolulu. "Distance 1,200 yards, bearing zero one zero, off to port."

"First shot, let it go!" The torpedoes slammed; the deck shook beneath their feet.Byron had no confidence in the angle he had calculated with the small gyro, and this shot could only be done by luck. "Wake off target to starboard, Captain." "Damn it!" "900 yards away...850 yards away..." The opportunities available to Esther are disappearing rapidly, like a small snowball thrown into a raging fire.He could also order "Sink into deep water - use negative tank" to sink instantly, or he could make a sharp turn, possibly receiving a horribly accurate burst of depth charges, and then hope to dive to the bottom of the ocean and get away with it.He can also fire torpedoes again.In any case, the "Moray" was at a critical moment.

"It's eight hundred yards away." Is it too late to launch a torpedo?It was fired from the torpedo tube without the fuse on, and if the distance was only 800 yards and it was approaching the target quickly, the torpedo might not have time to release the fuse before it hit the target... "Second shot, let it go! Third shot, let it go! Fourth shot, let it go!" Byron's beating heart seemed to swell and fill his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.The relatively close speed of the destroyer and the torpedo must have reached seventy knots!The clack-boom, clack-boom, clack-boom of the propellers, getting closer and closer-boom!

The mate screamed, "A hit! My God, Captain, you blew its bow off! It split in two!" A thunderous rumble hit the hull of the submarine. "A hit! Oh, Captain, she's in a mess, her ammunition magazines must be exploding! A gun mount is flying into the sky! There's wreckage, corpses, and her whaler motorboat, It's all over." "Let me see," Esther said hastily.The co-pilot moved two steps away to give up the position in front of the periscope, his flushed face was slightly deformed, and his bald scalp glistened.Esther turned the periscope and said, "Kay, those two freighters are slipping away, but the transport ship is turning towards us. The captain is either crazy or scared. That's good. Put it down." periscope."

Esther closed both handles, stepped away from the smoothly descending periscope shaft, and then said literally into the microphone in a loud and flat voice, "Attention all officers and men, the USS 'Moray' has achieved the first Victory, the Japanese destroyer has split in two and is sinking. Good fight. Our main target, the transport ship, is coming towards us. It's a 10,000-ton big thing with a full load of troops. This This is a rare opportunity, we will kill it, and then chase the freighters on the water. Eat them all this time to make up for the loss of our convoy and the torpedoes that cannot be fired. Completely wiped out!" Uncontrollable shouts echoed on the submarine.Esther shouted twice, "Enough! Let's celebrate after we've wiped them all out. Get the bow torpedo tubes ready." The progression of this attack is the same as performing a blackboard drill.From time to time, Bateman raised the periscope out of the water and reported the data quickly and cleanly.The Japanese ship sailed steadily into the aiming range.around.Perhaps because it was moving away from the sinking, shattered destroyer, it might have thought it was on a flight to escape. "Open the outer door." Byron had in his mind a clear and complete picture of the attack, the eternal moving triangle of the submarine attack: the transport at twenty knots in the sun, the Moray half a mile from the transport. , perpendicular to its beam.Sixty feet below the surface, it approached the target silently at a speed of four knots.The torpedo tube at the stern of the submarine was opened, and the sea water entered the tube, and the torpedo inside could be fired at the target at any time at a speed of forty-five knots.At this time, only if there is a breakdown, only if there is a serious breakdown of the American machine, can it be possible to save the Japanese. "Final position, launch." "Raise the periscope! Target. Bearing 003. Lower the periscope!" Aster fired three torpedoes side by side.In less than a few seconds, the sound of the explosion shook the conning tower, and the heavy and shocking explosion noise continued to spread to the entire ship.Suddenly, cheers, cheers, shouts, laughter, whistles and shouts resounded throughout the submarine.In the crowded conning tower, sailors punched each other, jumped and jumped. The mate yelled, "Captain, two good hits. Aft and amidships. I can see flames. It's burning, smoking, listing to port, bow submerged." "Surface, all gunners in place!" A gust of fresh air gushes in through the open gap of the hatch cover, a ray of sunlight shoots in, the dripping sea water drops shine brightly, and there is a pleasant roar when the diesel engine starts.All this brought waves of joy to Byron's heart.He climbed up the ladder, as if floating, to the bridge. "My God, what a rare sight!" said Bateman, standing beside him. It was a picturesque day: a blue sky with a few clouds floating high in the sky.The blue waves are rippling under the dazzling sun.The air on the equator is humid and hot.Nearby, the transport ship billowed heavily, its red bottom sticking out of the water, belching thick smoke.Screaming sirens were wailing, and yelling men in lifejackets were crawling over the gunwale and down the sling net.Two or three miles away, the foredeck of the destroyer was still floating on the water, and some vague figures almost desperate clung to it.Overcrowded boats tossed and tossed in the nearby sea. "Let's get around this guy," Captain Este said, chewing on his cigar. "Look where those freighters went." His tone was lighthearted, but Byron saw his hand tremble as he reached to take the cigar from his mouth.The patrol was off to a successful start, but from the look on his face, Qatar.Esther was far from satisfied; the strained smile, the cold eyes.For thirty-seven days, this longing for a period of time has become more and more urgent.The failure of the torpedo made him even more anxious.Until a quarter of an hour ago.He was also afraid that he would eat a duck egg on his first patrol.Not afraid now. As they rounded the stern and passed the huge brass propeller sticking out of the water, a scene of turbulence suddenly appeared before them.The transport ship is spitting out its troops on this side.In the covered motorboats, on the open landing craft and motor speedboats, and on the broad rafts, thousands of Japanese soldiers were densely packed.Hundreds of Japanese soldiers crowded around on the deck, fleeing down the cargo nets and rope ladders. "Like ants on a hot plate scrambling for their lives," Esther said cheerfully.Soldiers in kapok lifejackets floating on the sea form a gray patch. "For God's sake," said Bateman, "how many people are in this boat?" Staring at the two freighters in the distance through binoculars, Ace replied absently, "These Japs are stuffed on board like cattle. How far are those two freighters from us, Pete?" Bateman looked through the wet alidade.His reply was drowned out by a burst of machine gun fire.Smoke and flames belched from a covered motorboat packed with soldiers. "Damn it," Esther said with a laugh. "It wants to punch a hole in us! It can really do it." He clasped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "No. 2 gun, sink it!" The forty-millimeter gun opened fire immediately.The Japanese soldiers on the motorboat began to jump into the water.Fragments of the hull flew in all directions, but its machine guns continued to fire for a few seconds.Then the silent, smoky boat sank.Many lifeless corpses in green uniforms and life jackets float nearby. Esther turned to Bateman: "What's the distance now?" "Seven thousand, captain." "Okay. Let's go around and order the guns to assemble the shells, and we have to take a few photos of this transport ship." Esther looked at his watch and then at the sun. "We'll catch up with those two monkeys before dusk. It won't be hard. Now let's sink these boats and rafts, and send all the floaters back to their venerable ancestors." Byron was not so much surprised as disgusted, but the action of the mate did surprise him.When Esther was about to raise the microphone on the bridge to his mouth, Bateman clamped down on Esther's forearm with a knife. "Captain, don't do this." The voice was very low.Byron, standing at Esther's elbow, could barely hear what he said. "Why?" Esther asked in the same low voice. "It's just massacre." "What are we here for? They're fighters. If they're rescued, they'll be hitting our men in New Guinea in a week." "It's the same as shooting captives." "Come on, Pete. What about our people on Bataan? What about those who are still aboard the USS Arizona?" Esther shook off Bateman's hand.His voice echoed across the deck: "Attention gunners. All these ships, motorboats, rafts are legitimate targets of war, as are the men in the water. If we don't kill them, they'll live to kill the Americans. Free fire !" In an instant, every gun barrel on the "Moray" spewed out yellow flames and white smoke. "Slow down," Esther called down through the microphone. "Battery loaded." He turned to Byron. "Call the quartermaster and let's take a few pictures of that little destroyer before it sinks, and a few pictures of this big guy." "Yes, yes, sir." Byron conveyed the order over the phone. The Japanese jumped into the water frantically from boats and rafts.The four-inch guns took aim at the small boats and sank them one by one.Under such short-distance shooting, the small boats were smashed to pieces.Not long.Neither the raft nor the launch was deserted.The soldiers were all in the water, some of them taking off their life jackets to dive into the deep water.Machine gun bullets splashed rows of white spray on the water.Byron saw the heads burst like watermelons falling to the ground, and blood gushed out. "Captain," said Bateman, "I'm going down." "Okay, Pete." Esther lit another cigar. "Go." Countless dead Japanese floated in the blood-red sea around the Moray as the transport cocked its tail and sank.A few more were swimming around like dolphins being chased by sharks. "Well, I guess that'll do it," Qatar said.Esther said, "Time flies, Byron. Let's catch those freighters. Release gunners. Cruise duty. Full speed ahead." The sun was already setting when the Moray, which was trailing at a long distance, caught up with the freighters and dived into the water.The unescorted ships could only travel at eleven knots.Lieutenant Bateman returned to the periscope, cheerful and precise, as if the events of the morning had not affected him.But among the crew these things had an effect, and whenever Byron appeared before a group of sailors on a voyage of pursuit all day long, he was met with silence and strange glances, as if he had interrupted something he should not have done. Let an officer hear the conversation.They were all newly transferred to work together.There is reason to rejoice at this victory.But they don't. Captain Bateman was the one person Byron had trouble understanding.He was transferred from the Bureau of Ordnance to the Moray.He is a Christian Scientist.Volunteered to preside over Sunday services on board the submarine, but few attended.Regarding this morning's killing, no matter what scruples he had, he is now in the same lively and murderous manner as before. Esther still had five torpedoes, and he dropped three of them and shot them at the two freighters that were driving close together.Bateman reported a hit, glowing brightly in the dark; a booming blast rattled the Moray's hull. "Surface!" The lights in the conning tower were dimmed and red to preserve night vision, but Byron still saw the factory hanging in Qatar.That disappointed look on Esther's face. The "Moray" emerged from the turbulent sea in the moonlight.The undamaged freighter was turning away from its wounded companion, black smoke from its funnels eclipsing the stars. "Full speed ahead!" Both freighters fired at the same time, shooting frantically at the black figure plowing through the waves, sending phosphorescent sprays from it.Judging by the flashes from the muzzles, they had not only machine guns but two-inch cannons.If this kind of shell hits directly, it can also sink the submarine.But Esther greeted the red tracers and the whizzing cannonballs as if they were nothing more than confetti thrown at a military parade.He put the submarine in line with the fleeing freighter, which turned into a huge monster, like an ocean liner, and the guns were fired, and it was all red. "Full left rudder. Open the stern torpedo tube." The submarine made a sharp turn amidst a hail of red tracer rounds and whizzing bullets. The watch post hid behind the bulletproof screen, and so did Byron.Esther stood upright, looking intently towards the stern of the ship.Then a torpedo was fired.With a thunderclap, the night exploded into a day full of thunder and red light.The middle of the freighter was on fire, blazing. "Down, down, down!" Byron trembled all over, appreciating the move from the bottom of his heart.Aster immobilized both targets, and his sub was no longer exposed to fire. "Okay, aft torpedo room," Esther said into the microphone as the sub dived into the sea on its side. "We hit the target. Now to fire the last torpedo. The last shot for this combat readiness reconnaissance. Just hit the freighter we've hit once, it's a stationary duck now. It needs us to give it another shot Punch. So no mistakes. Sink it and we'll go home." Esther stalked the immobilized freighter, then turned the sub around and fired the torpedo from six hundred yards away. The "Moray" was shaken by the close-range underwater explosion, and all the crew members on board cheered in unison. "Surface, surface, surface! I'm so proud of you all, I can't help but cry." Indeed, Esther choked with passion. "You are the greatest submariners in the Navy. I can tell you that Moray's kill was just the beginning." Whatever turmoil of thought had occurred that day, the crew was now on his side again.Cheers and shouts came and went, hugs and handshakes continued for a long time, until the quartermaster opened the hatch, the diesel engine coughed and roared, and the moonlit sea water dripped down the ladder. Byron ran out into the hot night and saw the two boats motionless on the water, ablaze.The artillery fire has ceased.A cargo ship sank faster, its flame extinguished like a burnt candle.But the other was still burning, the punctured hull afloat stubbornly until Esther yawned and told Bateman to kill it with a four-inch cannon.Although it was covered with flaming bullet points, it was still sinking slowly.Finally, the sea became pitch black, only the half moon hanging in the sky reflected a yellow light on the water. "Gentlemen aboard the USS Moray," Esther announced to them, "we will be on the way to Pearl Harbor on 067. When we pass the No. 1 channel buoy ten days later, We're going to hoist a broom on the periscope. All the engines going at normal speed, God bless you, you fucking fools who know how to fight." This is Byron.April nineteenth spent by Henry. By the time they sailed into Pearl Harbor, the broom was already hanging high.Four small Japanese flags fluttered in the wind from a long sash behind the broom.The sound of sirens, fog horns and sirens can be heard endlessly, welcoming the "Moray" to complete the passage into the port.On the pier at the submarine base, everyone was dumbfounded: Admiral Nimitz, in white, stood among Pacific Submarine Command's khaki-clad headquarters personnel.After the springboard was set up, Esther ordered the officers and men of the boat to assemble.Nimitz stepped onto the sub alone. "Captain, I want to shake hands with every officer and soldier on board." He walked along the front deck and shook hands with all the officers and soldiers—his wrinkled eyes sparkled.Then the entire crew of Pacific Submarine Command swarmed onto the deck.Someone brought a copy of the Honolulu Advertiser.The headline read: First Patrol to Wipe Out Enemy Submarines Eliminates Convoys and Escorts "Single Submarine Wolves" - The picture of Lockwood Esther grinning in the bright sun is recent, but this A newspaper had found somewhere a picture of Bateman taken as a graduate of the Naval Academy, and he looked really weird with his long hair. It's really comfortable to walk on land.Byron walked toward the Pacific Submarine Command building, but slowly.The news of killing the Japanese on the sea quickly spread, and this not-so-short street walk seemed to be a poll about Esther's merits and demerits.Along the way, officers stopped him from time to time to talk to him about it.Responses ranged from disapproval of extreme disgust to bloodlust of active support.In general, public opinion seems to be a bit unfavorable to Este, but the difference is not too big. Later in the day, Janice pounced on Byron when he arrived for a kiss, which left r5. Lun feeling both bewildered and thrilled. "My God," he gasped. "Janice!" "Ouch, I love you, Blaney. Don't you know? But, you don't have to be afraid of me, I won't eat you." She broke free, her eyes sparkling, and her yellow hair fell over her shoulders. Walking quickly to the table, the thin pink satin clothes creaked, and hurriedly picked up a copy of "Advertiser". "See this?" "Oh, of course." "So, did you get my message? Is Qatar coming to dinner?" "come" Esther arrived drunk, with some garlands around his neck that had been put on him at the officers' club.He puts one on Byron and one on Janice, and she gives him a polite kiss.They washed down a meal of shrimp, steak, baked potatoes, and apple steak topped with ice cream in four bottles of California morsels, and ate and joked and laughed.Later, Janice put on an apron and insisted that they let her clean up the dishes herself. "Heroes returning home triumphantly," she mumbled a little, "don't come into my kitchen. Go out on the porch. There are no mosquitos tonight, and the wind blows toward the sea." On the dark porch facing the waterway, as they sank into two wicker chairs with a wine bottle between them, Esther said in a monotonous sober tone: "Peter Bateman has asked for a transfer." .” After a moment of silence, Byron said: "Then, what about the vacancy of the first officer?" "I told the Commander I want you to do it." "Me?" Byron was still a little dizzy after drinking.He tried his best to calm himself down. "That won't work." "why?" "I'm too junior. I'm a reserve officer. It's a combat post, that's for sure, and I'm going to love Periscope, but I'm a puny administrator." "You're qualified on the roster, and you are. The Commander is considering it. You're the third reserve co-captain in Submarine Command Pacific, but the Commander tends to accommodate my request. The other two's Older than you, they've been on active duty since 1939. But you've been in combat readiness reconnaissance a lot." "I wasted a lot of time in the Mediterranean." "Doing maintenance at the advanced base is not a waste of time." Byron poured wine into his glass.They drank in the dark.Over the clanging and splashing from the kitchen, they heard Janice singing "Lovely Hula Hands." After a while, Esther said, "Perhaps you agree with Peter Bateman? You don't want to go to sea with me anymore? That's negotiable." During the long voyage back to base, few people in the officer's sitting room talked about the massacre.Byron hesitated, then said, "I didn't ask for a transfer." "We went to war to kill the Japanese, didn't we?" "They don't have any fighting chance in the water." "Bullshit." That's a harsh word, because Esther always avoids swearing. "We are at war. To end this war, to win, and in the long run to save the lives of our enemies, we must kill the enemy in great numbers. Is that right? Or is it wrong?" Byron said silently. "How about it?" "Ma'am, you just like to kill people." "I don't care to do that to those bastards. I really don't. I admit it. This war is theirs to fight." The two were relatively silent in the dark. "They killed your brother." "As I said, I didn't ask for a transfer. Stop it, captain." After Esther left, Janice sat down and had a long talk with Byron.They talked of the tour, and then of Warren, lost in the remembrance of the past with tenderness as never before.He didn't mention Natalie, only that he planned to call the State Department in the morning.As he left for bed, he stretched out his arms and kissed her passionately.Surprised and moved, she gazed into his eyes. "That's for Natalie, isn't it?" "No. Good night." Before she left, she looked into his room and heard his calm breathing.Her car has a pass issued by the military government, which allows her to go through the curfew without hindrance.She drove through the dark streets under blackout to the small hotel where Esther was now staying for a tryst with her.She crept home a few hours later, exhausted but brightened by the momentary joy of the fornication.She listened to Byron's breathing again; deep, regular, unchanged.Janice went to bed, blissfully blissful, haunted only by irrational guilt.Almost like committing adultery. Within Pacific Submarine Command, there had been a long debate about whether it was necessary for Aster to kill all the Japanese soldiers.The controversy never made it to the newspapers.Even the rest of the Navy was unaware.Those submarine officers and soldiers took this matter as a family secret and never told outsiders.Many years after the end of the war, when all tour reports were no longer classified as classified, outsiders finally learned the truth.Qatar.Este's report gave a detailed and candid account of the massacre, and Pacific Submarine Commander's comments were unconditionally high praise.The manuscript of the chief of staff's comments was also made public.He wrote a lengthy opinion piece blaming the massacre of helpless drowning men.The Commander angrily crossed out this comment with an ink pen, and the traces of the ink splash at that time still remain on a yellowed page in the wartime file of the Admiralty. "If I had ten murderers like Esther in this command," the commander said to the chief of staff at the time, "this war could have ended a year earlier. Special Major criticized him for killing a Japanese. It was a meritorious patrol and I will be recommending him a second Navy Cross."