The ride to the base was a pleasant one, despite the rain. Once there, both Hammond and Richardson were deposited in their rooms for a short time to freshen up, then everyone met again for dinner. They were joined by the representatives from several other countries. Everyone was eager to meet the two Americans who were supposed to be in charge. One of the reps was a nice reprieve.
“Roger Hammond! As I live and breathe, how long has it been, old man?” announced a vice admiral, resplendent in his Royal Navy uniform and boasting a splendid mustache that was as red as his hair.
Hammond broke into a wide grin. “Sir Richard! I am so glad to see you again,” he sang out. The two men shook hands with enthusiasm and then Hammond introduced Richardson. “General Richardson, this is Sir Richard Thomas, the Royal Navy’s Deputy Chief of Naval Staff. We met when Iowa came to Portsmouth after the war. Be careful, you mentioned a beer earlier. I dare say this man may be able to drink the bar dry.”
There was laughter among the officers as Sir Richard slapped Hammond on the shoulder. “Never fear, only one of my legs is hollow, but if there’s a pint of Guinness available, I’ll lead the charge,” he said boastfully. One of the servers dashed away to get the pint. “Richardson, you say? Don’t tell me you’re the one who led the troops up the Korean peninsula,” he said eying the smaller framed female before him.
“The very same,” exclaimed Richardson. “And I’m hoping to do a little bit more of it when things begin happening here.”
Sir Richard’s ruddy face broadened. A twinkle appeared in his eye. “Well then, it appears we have a lot in common. We need some aggression in some parts. Roger, I like the people you associate with,” he announced. “Is everyone here?”
“It seems our French colleague hasn’t arrived yet. He may not come at all,” said Pol.
Sir Richard’s face clouded. It was obvious he didn’t really like the French liaison. “I see. Then he’ll bloody well miss out. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s retire to our table.” It was obvious that when present, Sir Richard was a man in charge.
The meal was served and both Sir Richard and General Dortmund sat with Richardson at the table. Before the evening ended, all had become friends.
Patricia Hammond was having a good day. Several planning meetings for the city budget, public works and with the harbor commission had gone well. There was change in the air in San Pedro. The dockyards and repair facilities were expanding and the harbor was being deepened to accommodate the larger ships that seemed to be coming off the ways every day. She had also just signed a contract to begin road resurfacing on the streets of the city. That task had been put off for several years due to budget restraints, but with the city expanding and more high-rise apartments and hotels going up, revenues were also rising. It was four in the afternoon when she decided to get Little Steve and call it a day. Often she worked till six or seven, but with Roger away, she decided to take Steve to the park and have a little time to themselves. Little Steve’s daycare was on the ground level of City Hall. After gathering up her son, the two exited the building and made their way to the John S. Gibson Park only a block away from USS Iowa’s berth.
The tremor was light at first, then suddenly the ground began to convulse. Scooping Steve into her arms, she grabbed a palm next to the sidewalk she held on for dear life. All around her things began to fall. The street began to crack and tear. Water began cascading out of the cracks as the water mains were torn apart in the upheaval. Light poles began whipping back and forth and the power lines also began parting, sending showers of sparks along the road where they met. She heard what sounded like an explosion and turned to watch City Hall begin crumbling to the ground. Other snaps could be heard and she saw several of the large cranes, used for loading and unloading ships fall to the ground or into the water. The shaking became so violent, she could not remain on her feet. She fell to the ground still clinging to her son and held on while the quake tore into her community. For a full six minutes the ground shook. Then, almost as quickly as it began, it stopped.
There was a strange quiet all around her as she lifted her head from the dust and began looking around. The usual noises of cars and the harbor were gone. Only the splash of water from where the pipes broke disturbed the quiet. Patricia looked at her son. His bright eyes were calm and looked around in wonder. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m okay, Mommy,” he said as he began pushing himself up from the ground.
Patricia got up and dusted him off, then herself. Looking around, most of the buildings were damaged. She looked back at City Hall to find that the entire front facing of the building was gone. It was nothing but rubble in the street. Fortunately, people were starting to come out of the rest of the building, stepping over the rubble, to gather along South Beacon Street and look at the destruction around them. She called out to them and motioned for them to come over to her. Once there, she began getting things organized.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Patricia said. “It seems we now have to put on another set of hats and get some things done. Mister Conseca, can you take a couple of people and get over to the Iowa. I want to ask their help during this crisis. We’ll need everything, food, shelter, electricity, the works. I want to make the site our disaster relief station.” She turned to another. “Ms. Ranier, try and get with the police and fire departments to let them know what I want to do. Have them start directing anyone down to the Iowa. Then I need them to get me an idea of how bad it is. I’ll be there.” Turning to another man, “Jason, get some people and see who needs help in City Hall. If you can, get them out or wait with them till the fire department arrives.”
“Sharon, can you see if we can get hold of the Red Cross? I need cots, blankets, water, medical care and other services down at the Iowa as quickly as they can,” she said.
The Mayor turned to the rest. “People, now is the time to do good. Get out there and help people. Get them down to the pier and we will operate from there. I know you will want to check with your families, but we may not be able to for a while. Let’s all work on taking care of the people we serve. If you need anything, come see me at the Iowa.” She paused a moment. “And thank you all. I know I’m asking a lot, but as you can see, there’s a lot we need to do,” she said.
As they began to break up, the earth shook again. This time it was almost as violent as the first. Everyone was thrown to the ground. After a few more minutes the quake ended. After this one, most of the buildings were either down or very close to toppling. Through the dust the people heard Patricia say, “Let’s get going.” Each began making their way to get the recovery started.
The ship didn’t feel the quake like the others. But the bobbing and rocking made it feel like Iowa was in a storm. Fortunately, the hawsers used to hold her to the pier had enough give that the ship remained in place. About half way through the shaking, the electricity went out on the ship. Lieutenant Commander Bill Strasser, the Officer in Charge of the Iowa Detachment sprang into action, ordering his people to be ready to light off the plant. Already one of the Machinist Mates had gone to the forward Motor Machinery Room. The beam from his flashlight illuminated a huge diesel engine used to provide auxiliary power to the ship. Making sure all the valves were opened and that there was fuel and coolant to the big engine, he pressed the “start” button. The big diesel turned over and within a few seconds electricity from the generator began lighting the space. Flipping some breakers, the Machinist Mate directed the power to the rest of the ship.