Stillsen’s comment had sparked a question in the minds of the ship’s officers. Tremain could immediately see the doubt on their faces. They were thinking of what they had learned in sub school. The textbook method of sinking a capital ship was to detonate a torpedo directly beneath it. The gas pocket, created by the explosion, would place a brief but catastrophic tensile stress on the ship’s keel, which would snap it like a twig. That was the textbook way to do it, under perfect conditions.
“I don’t intend to sink the Kurita by breaking her back, Commander,” Tremain said. “If we had magnetic exploders that worked properly, then maybe I would. But everyone in this room will tell you that those magnetic exploders are topheavy with problems. I plan to sink her the old-fashioned way, by blowing holes in her side.”
“That is not your call to make, Tremain. We have orders. Those orders don’t allow us to alter our weapons or our method of attack in any way. Therefore, I insist that you order Chief Konhausen to re-enable the magnetic exploders.” “We’re only going to get one chance at this, Dave.” Tremain attempted to diffuse the situation. His officers had uncertainty on their faces. “I need reliable torpedoes. I need them to work right the first time. I can’t afford to have any prematures or duds. We won’t be able to line up for a second shot. Once we’ve fired that first salvo, every Japanese son of a bitch with an ash can is going to be on top of us.”
Stillsen’s face grew grave. “I don’t think you heard me, Tremain. So I’ll say it again. Have Konhausen restore the magnetic exploders.”
Tremain locked eyes with Stillsen. He could not believe the man had actually given him an order in front of his own officers. The man had stepped over the line.
“Clear the fucking room!” Tremain shouted.
The officers quickly rose from their seats and filed out of the wardroom in silence.
Tremain drew the curtain shut behind the last man and turned to face Stillsen with an evil scowl. Stillsen started to speak, but was cut off by Tremain’s finger in his face.
“Listen to me, Mister Stillsen. You can disagree with my orders, you can disagree with my policies or the way I do things, but that’s the last time you’ll give me a fucking order in front of my men! Is that clear?”
Stillsen appeared stunned at Tremain’s change in demeanor.
“These boys have very few things they can hold on to,” Tremain continued. “Hell, they don’t even know if they’ll be alive tomorrow. The least I can do for them is give them some kind of confidence in their captain and their boat. I’m fucking tired of you trying to break down that confidence. It’s evident to me that you have been trying to do that very thing since we left Pearl Harbor!
“Now I know you feel slighted because you’re not the captain this time out. You’re upset about it so you’re going to make life difficult for me. Well, asshole, I’ve got news for you, you should be thanking your lucky stars that you’re not in command. I’ve seen you make so many green-ass novice mistakes on this patrol, I could write a book about it. You may have finished PCO School but you’ve still got a lot to fucking learn.
“We are not out here to protect your pride or your snotnosed ego, Mr. Stillsen. We’re here to do a job. I know how to get the job done. You don’t. Accomplishing the mission goes beyond blind adherence to peacetime rules and regulations that were written by people who didn’t know the first thing about actual combat.
“Do you actually think that I would go against regulations without giving the matter the utmost consideration? I have made my decision, it is my command decision, and I believe it is the best chance we have. That is final! I’m not going to tell Konhausen to change the fish back and jeopardize the mission for your sake, for Captain Ireland’s sake, or even for Admiral Giles’ sake, for that matter.”
Stillsen did not respond. His face was red. Tremain could not tell whether it was out of embarrassment or hate. He suddenly looked much smaller, like the wind had left his sails.
Tremain continued. “Now, I suggest that you take on a much lower profile for the rest of the mission, Mister Stillsen. Watch the crew and the officers and see how good they are at what they do. If you can get past your own arrogance you might actually learn something.”
Stillsen still did not speak. He sat with lips pursed and face red. Tremain thought he saw a slight nod. That was enough. Tremain started to leave the room, but stopped short as he remembered one last thing.
“One final thing, Commander. From now on, you don’t call me ‘Tremain’ and you don’t call me ‘Jack.’ From now on you don’t call me anything but ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir.’ Understood?”
Stillsen stared at him in fuming disbelief for several seconds, before uttering a weak: “Aye aye, sir.”
Chapter 20
Wright peered through the periscope at the white-capped waves above. He had been on watch for three hours and the tension in the conning tower got thicker with every nautical mile they eliminated between them and the Japanese coast, although nothing seemed as tense as the briefing in the wardroom the night before. Wright felt like an idiot for bringing up the torpedo modifications and the other officers had jeered him for it after the meeting. Tee was the worst, of course, calling him a dumbass and reverting to some of his previous behavior but with somewhat less vigor. Wright had just smiled with the knowledge that he had shared Margie’s bed the night before deployment, not Tee.
He played that night and the morning after over and over in his mind. After leaving Margie, he had rushed to the hotel, packed his seabag, caught a taxi back to the base, and made it to the boat just in time for inspection at quarters. When Mackerel shoved off, Wright had been on deck along with Tee and he had noticed Margie standing with some other nurses way down the pier. As Mackerel had backed into the channel, Tee shouted orders to the linehan-dlers on deck, never looking in her direction even once. Since that day Wright wondered if she had been standing there for Tee at all, or if she had been there for him.
As Wright looked through the scope his eye caught a small flicker of light in the blue sky.
“Aircraft spotted, sir,” he announced. The sun gleamed off the distant twin-engine bomber’s wings as it banked far away to the north.
Tremain came up the ladder from the control room and took the scope from Wright. He swung around a quick scan of the surface, then steadied the lens on the distant aircraft and increased the magnification.
“She’s headed west,” Tremain said. “Probably headed home after an ASW patrol.”
Cazanavette was at the chart desk, plotting the new contact. He measured off the distance with a pair of dividers.
“We should be able to see Shikoku, Captain,” he said. “Bearing three four five.”
Tremain swung the scope around to the bearing and increased to maximum magnification. Barely visible above the wave crests, he could make out the jagged peaks of a mountain range, lying just over the horizon.
“Right you are, XO. I hold some mountains on that bearing. From here on it gets dicey. Pass the word to the crew. Let them know we’re less than fifteen miles from the Japanese homeland. This is the real deal. I don’t want any maintenance performed until further notice.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Equipment failures happened all the time on a submarine at sea. Most of them occurred just after the equipment had received routine maintenance. Tremain did not want any problems that might force him to surface during daylight hours. So much traffic passed through these waters, they would certainly be sighted, and the mission would be a complete failure. The Japanese would never allow the battleship to pass anywhere near waters where they knew a submarine lurked.