Rhodes hit the bitch box. “Secondary Plot, Bridge, counterbattery bearing 003 in a clump of trees. Engage with the secondary battery,” he ordered.
“We have the target, engaging now,” came the reply.
In the starboard 5-inch mounts the men suddenly had something to shoot at. The crews slammed the round and its propellant into the trays and the rammer was shoved home. Nearly all the mounts fired at the same time giving off a loud crack which was actually more disturbing than the 16-inch’s boom. Jeffers saw sand and debris begin rising all around the area as round after round was flung at them. He saw a flash and flame as the gun’s ammunition was hit. He also saw what looked like the remnants of a gun and its carriage flung into the air. “They got him,” Jeffers reported.
The 5-inch stopped firing and the Weapons officer reported target destroyed. Meanwhile, the 16-inch guns were still firing at the primary target. Most of the trucks in the convoy were now either burning or overturned. The men in Spot One could see people running everywhere trying to get away from the devastation. It had only taken about ten minutes. Rhodes called main battery plot. “Do we have any more targets?” he asked.
“Skelley says everything’s been given the once over. He says there isn’t much left to shoot at but people,” came the reply.
“Very well, cease fire,” he ordered. The big guns fell silent. Turning to Jeffers, Rhodes said, “Let’s take the ship offshore so that they can’t take any more pot shots at us.”
Jeffers said, “Aye, Captain. JOOD, come left to 200. Increase speed to 15 knots.” As the order was relayed, the ship made its way away from the shore. “Captain, I’d like to take us out at least ten miles. That would be far enough away to keep from getting hit and still close enough to respond to call for fire.”
“Make it so,” said Rhodes. He called Main Battery Plot again. “Weapons Officer, is that the last that you see in our sector?”
“Yes, Captain. They’re not seeing anything else up top. I plan on keeping a watch up there scanning the area just in case,” the Weapons Officer said.
“Good plan. I’m going to stand us down to Condition Two to let everyone get something to eat. Let me know if you find anything,” Rhodes said.
“Will do, Captain.”
“Officer of the Deck, stand down from general quarters. Set Condition Two. Tell the cooks to feed the crew as quickly as we can,” he ordered.
With general quarters relaxed, the regular watch came up to the bridge and people began moving around the ship again. The regular OOD relieved Jeffers and they reported to the Captain.
Rhodes got up from his seat and walked out with Jeffers. “Rod, you seem to be fitting in pretty well. Are things going well in the department?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. I’ve got a few things of my own going on now and I’m sure Boats Patnaude will keep me from getting too far out of line,” Jeffers said.
Rhodes chucked. “You know, when I was still an enlisted man, Boats was my superior. I liked working for him then and do now. He still lets me know if I need to do anything,” he said with a smile. “But you’re right. Just listen to what he says and you’ll do fine. I saw your suggestion for a display board. I like the idea. Have you got what you may need?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get with the engineers to hang it once we’re done. If nothing else it will be impressive,” said Jeffers.
“That it will. Keep handy in case we have a call for fire. We may go back to GQ at any time,” Rhodes said as he entered his sea cabin behind the bridge.
Jeffers made his way down to his cabin to take off his heavy coat and cap. The wardroom was already filling for lunch. It seemed a little more open now that the Russian sailors had been sent over to the LSD. Jeffers had gotten to know a few of the enlisted sailors. They were like most other sailors. They worked hard and seemed to enjoy pitching in. Some actually didn’t want to go. He remembered the faces of a few when they saw the first gunshoot while aboard. None had ever seen anything like what the ship could do. After that several seemed to take some pride at being aboard.
Lunch was about halfway over when the general quarters alarm sounded again. Jeffers quickly donned his foul weather gear and went to the bridge. It would be another afternoon of shooting.
It was Sasha’s turn to get up and light the stove and the fireplace to start the day. Everyone took turns so that his mother could sleep a little later and wake up to a warm house. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he placed the wood into the stove. The small stuff was always first, followed by larger blocks on top. After making sure the flue was open, he opened a small port, struck the match and lit the kindling on the bottom layer. He had actually put some paper in under the kindling just in case. Within a minute the flames were licking at the larger blocks. Next, he went to the ceramic stove that sat almost in the center of the house. He opened the fire box and checked inside. As usual, there were still embers burning from the night before. Like the stove, he placed a handful of kindling over the embers and began to blow on them. Almost immediately the kindling caught. It was only a matter of feeding the larger sticks and then larger wood into the box until the flames reached the perfect height. Soon the heat began permeating through the ceramic and warming the whole house.
Sasha headed back to his room when he noticed something strange. Standing beside the couch were two artificial legs. He was staring at them when he heard a voice.
“Good morning,” said Ricks, lying on the couch.
Sasha almost jumped. He looked over at Ricks. “Sorry. I did not mean to stare,” he said in broken English.
Ricks sat up on the couch. The layers of blankets that had kept him snuggly warn through the night were pushed back and Sasha saw the stumps of Ricks’ legs as they swung around. Ricks shook his head. “No, it’s okay. It is not often you see such things,” he said.
“Did you sleep well?” Sasha asked.
“The best I’ve slept in a month.” Ricks reached down and grabbed a leg, inserting it into the pin and wrapping the plastic membrane up the stump. After finishing with both legs he saw Sasha staring at his efforts. “I lost these in the Korean War,” he said to the young man.
“What happened?”
Ricks smiled. “It’s a long story,” he began. Quietly he told Sasha about the mission to rescue the school children and how the North Koreans were holding them as hostages while they were shooting at the American forces with a gun on an upper floor. As he was telling the story, Rudy came down tucking in his shirt. He too sat down to listen. For some reason, Ricks related every detail, telling them on the young Marine lieutenant named Dickson who had been killed during the mission, how they had been getting the children out when the North Korean’s opened fire. In the middle of telling the story, Ricks realized he had never told anyone what had happened that night. It was like putting down something old and reaching for something new. He began feeling refreshed.
“Then the explosion happened on the floor above us. All I remembered after that was the ceiling falling. I woke up in the hospital looking at my wife’s face,” he said with a smile. “For a little bit I felt sorry for myself, but then my wife, Su Lynn, told me we were going to have a baby. Well, a guy can’t feel sorry for himself when he’s going to be a father. In just over a month, I put these on and I’ve been walking on them ever since,” he concluded.