“Why just nuisance raids?” asked Truscott.
Grant answered. “General, they just don’t have that many planes and the ones they have can’t do the job. We estimate there’s somewhere around a thousand German planes now in Canada and only a couple of hundred of them are their HE111 bombers. Worse, the German bombers only carry a couple of tons of bombs each. They might get off one raid on Washington, like Doolittle did to Tokyo, but it won’t change things in the long run.
“Makes sense,” said Truscott.
Ike thought for a moment and made the decision. “I agree that the krauts won’t send many of their bombers down here without fighter protection. If I recall, their bombers are very vulnerable, and the ME109 would barely make it to Washington, even with drop tanks. New York, however, would be within range. That said, we will concentrate on protecting our industry and hope that the bases around D.C. and New York are alert and ready. I’m sure the Germans will attack Washington if only to show that they can.”
“So when do we go on the offensive?” asked Downing.
Ike appeared to wince before he answered. “Not until the president says so. He’s waffling. He’s awake and being informed as quickly as we find out ourselves. General Marshall and Admiral King are with him. For a man who wanted the Germans to throw the first stone, he now wants to make sure this is the real thing and not something the krauts can apologize for and then move on, like they did with that destroyer they sank. He wants to make sure they’ve actually started a war and not just created a bloody incident. Apparently, he’s still afraid that the politicians who are in favor of totally supporting the war against Japan and, not surprisingly, supporting those thieves in China, will rise up against him. If he was to ask for a declaration of war and congress turns it down, it would be humiliating.”
Grant was incredulous. “Sir, that’s preposterous. If the reports are correct, Germans have killed hundreds of our people and their bombers may be on their way to our cities as we speak. Sir, we’ve got to strike back just as soon as we can.”
Ike’s face turned red and Tom thought his military career had just come to a screeching halt. Ike took a deep breath and smiled tightly. “Major, I will tell you I agree with everything you’ve said if you will forget I just said that. Understood?”
Tom sheepishly said he did. A corporal rushed in, looked around in shock at all the brass staring at him, and handed a sheet of paper to Ike who read it and smiled. “Waiting may be over, gentlemen. This is from Ernie King and he’s saying that Kraut subs have begun attacking our shipping. On his own, he’s ordered his ships and planes to attack and kill U-boats.”
Terry Romano and the men of the Vampire had just begun the turn back to base when they received the message that jarred them and which they would remember for the rest of their lives. They were to commence unrestricted attacks on German U-boats immediately.
The first thing Terry did was ask for confirmation, and an angry voice complied. Then he asked what American subs were in the area and was assured that none were within a couple of hundred miles of his location.
“How much fuel we got,” he asked and was told enough for a couple of hours, maybe more if they were careful.
Terry ordered them back over the ocean and got a raucous cheer from his crew. Finally, they were going to be doing something. Well, maybe. First they would have to find a German. They’d done it before, but the Germans hadn’t been at war with the U.S. and might have been letting the Americans score some phantom points just to see what the bombers could do.
They’d been back on the graveyard shift for several weeks and it would be light enough to see in a while. After flying back over the ocean for half an hour, they were beginning to wonder if their efforts were wasted when the co-pilot, Phil Watson, spotted the flames. A ship was on fire. They flew low and confirmed that it was an oil tanker that had become a raging inferno. The Germans had drawn first blood and that enraged them.
They called in the ship’s location and were informed that the Coast Guard was already on the way. They could see a couple of lifeboats standing away from the dying tanker.
“I wonder how many made it out of that inferno?” Watson asked quietly. It was all too likely that men had either been burned to death or drowned. This was their first experience of war and, while they would not admit it out loud, they didn’t like it at all.
Another half an hour and they were beginning to have serious fuel concerns. The sun was rising which made things a little easier. The sea below was relatively calm and they looked hard for the tell-tale sign of a periscope or a snorkel making waves that shouldn’t be there.
“Got something,” said the radar operator. “It’s not much, but I think we should give it a look-see.”
Romano agreed and turned in the direction of the sighting. He also had them drop to a much lower altitude, thinking that the sub would be submerged and using its snorkel and unable to see the Vampire.
And there it was, looking like a pipe sticking out of the water and moving slowly towards land.
“What do we do now?” asked Watson.
“First, we re-re-reconfirm that there aren’t any of our boats around. Then we attack. The bastard may be underwater, but he can’t possibly be that deep if we can see his periscope. We’ll go in with guns blazing and maybe we’ll hurt him.”
The response from shore came quickly — attack! Terry flew the Vampire low over the waves and so slow he almost stalled. He lined the B24 on what he assumed was the sub’s stern and, with heart pounding, began his approach. He had his anti-tank gun, rockets, and a couple of five hundred pound bombs. They would fire and drop everything.
The snorkel grew steadily larger. “Now,” he yelled and 37mm shells stitched their way across the waves to the sub. Tony held the stream steady, inundating the snorkel which appeared to snap off. The rockets fired and he felt the plane lurch as the bombs were dropped. They exploded behind him in giant plumes of water as the bomber swept over the sub’s location and they felt the plane shudder from the shock wave. What the hell must it be like under the water, he wondered?
The Vampire banked upward and Tony planned for a second run. Unfortunately, there was no trace of the sub. They circled for a few more minutes, wondering if they’d ever know if they’d hit it.
“Skipper, is that debris?”
Tony again held the plane at near stall speed and took a look. Yes, it was debris. But what did it mean? The Germans had been known to empty trash through their torpedo tubes to make their enemies think that the sub had been killed. Was this such a case? Damn.
Watson grabbed Tony’s arm. “Jesus, she’s surfacing.”
Sure enough, the sub was doing an emergency surface. She emerged suddenly from the sea and splashed down.
“We go in one more time,” Tony exulted.
“Sir, I think they’re abandoning her,” said the tail gunner.
The sub was down by the stern and sinking. Men were pouring out of her and throwing life rafts into the sea. The sub rolled on its side and slowly disappeared while black smoke billowed out from the hatches. The men of the Vampire whooped and yelled. The radio operator said he’d taken some great photos.
Tony joined in the yelling until he recalled something somebody else had said about the sinking ship. “How many got out?” he asked.
“No more than thirty,” Watson answered. He realized where Tony was going.
“And how many in a sub’s crew?” Tony prodded.
“I guess maybe fifty or sixty.”
“Then don’t cheer, the poor bastards are dying,” said Tony. He couldn’t quite recall who’d first used that phrase, maybe somebody from the Spanish-American War. Regardless, it was appropriate. They’d made a kill but that meant that people were well and truly dead and they had caused those deaths.