As Tee hid his face in his hands, Wright thought about how he had seen Tee change from the bully to an emotional wreck in a matter of seconds, just like at Anderson’s memorial service. He was certainly unstable and Wright could see that he truly had a moral battle going on inside him. Wright’s anger and hatred for him was beginning to transform into pity.
“Sometimes it’s not easy to do the right thing.” Wright had finally got enough wind to speak. “But we still have to do it. Anderson’s dead. He might have had a chance if you had told the XO about everything. He would have been court-martialed, but at least he’d still be alive.”
“I know. I hate that,” Tee said genuinely. “It eats me up inside to know that. I wish I could change things.”
“In a few weeks you’re going to take over a division of torpedomen,” Wright said. “They’ve heard the whole story through rumors, and they’re not looking forward to working with you. You think they’ll ever trust another word you say? You think they’ll perform their best under those conditions? How long you going to keep living this lie, Tee? When is that mistake you made going to stop getting people killed?”
Tee nodded slowly and stared at the deck. “I’ve fucked everything up, Wright. I pray to God that I could take it all back.”
“You can fix things, Tee. Tell the XO what happened. Stand up and take the punishment like a good officer. It’s the best thing for everyone’s sake. It’s best for the division. It’s best for the ship. It’s best for you. Maybe, you’ll get some of your self-respect back.”
Tee’s eyes met Wright’s. He nodded. Wright could see the man’s inner struggle in his eyes.
“You’re right,” Tee finally muttered. “That’s the right thing to do. And I’m tired of hiding the truth. Let’s go see the, XO. I’ll explain everything.” Tee briefly paused before adding, “I’ll explain to him why you hit me the other day, too. He’ll probably drop the issue after he hears why.”
The hardened man had finally cracked, and Wright saw another side of Tee. He believed that Tee actually did have a conscience. He believed that Tee wanted to do the right thing. And in a small way, Wright felt sorry for him. He suddenly felt very guilty for sleeping with Margie, though he still did not regret it.
Tee held out a hand and helped Wright to his feet.
They had just started to head forward when the fourteen-bell gong rang throughout the ship, followed by the blare of the 1MC.
“All hands! Man battle stations torpedo!”
Chapter 25
The fourteen-bell gong rang throughout the ship and Mackerel's crew stopped whatever they were doing and fell out of their racks to hurry to their battle stations. Tremain watched as the conning tower quickly filled up with personnel manning phones, chart tables, and other equipment. Hubley brushed past Tremain’s arm and started to warm up the torpedo data computer. Salisbury’s sonar assistant stood beside him and manned an additional headset. Stillsen came up and assisted Cazanavette on the chart desk. The periscope assistant and another phone talker also squeezed into the tiny space, until Tremain had barely two feet in which to stand between the two periscope barrels. Within minutes the report came that all stations were manned and ready for torpedo action.
Tremain leaned on the periscope shears as he assembled in his head what had happened in the last fifteen minutes. The phone had buzzed in his stateroom just as he had settled down with the logbook to inscribe the entries explaining his decision to return to base. Over the phone, Cazanavette’s agitated voice had told him that he needed to come back to the conning tower, and fast. Something had happened. He had raced to the conning tower in less than ten seconds, shoving his way past sailors who had been inquisitively crowded around the ladder.
“Captain,” Cazanavette had said excitedly as he met him at the top of the ladder, his hair tousled from removing a sonar headset only moments before. “We have a new sound contact, sir. Several of them.”
Tremain had lifted the headset to his own ear and quickly heard what Cazanavette was excited about. Very faint, but very steady, on the same bearing as Kii Suido, he had heard the unmistakable pinging of active sonar. It was not just a single ship pinging, but multiple ships. In fact, the pings were almost continuous, and it had been impossible to tell which ones were pulses and which were returns. Somewhere, not far up the channel, the Japanese had begun to probe the hell out of the water with high energy sound, and it could mean only one thing: a valuable warship was being escorted out of the Inland Sea. Tremain knew that it had to be the Kurita.
At four miles from the channel entrance, Tremain had ordered the ship turned around and Mackerel had headed back toward the sonar contacts at nine and a half knots. Now, as the men settled in at their battle stations, they exchanged grins. They knew they were going back to get the Kurita, and that’s where they all wanted to go.
“We’re going to eat up the batteries getting into position in time. We won’t have much left for an evasion,” Cazanavette commented as he and the quartermaster placed a fresh sheet of plotting paper across the chart desk.
“We’ll work it out, XO,” Tremain said, then smiled with the necessary commander’s confidence. Sinking the Kurita would be enough, he thought. Anything after that, he would handle as it came. Cazanavette nodded in agreement and picked up the phone to converse with the engineering officer of the watch.
Tremain watched his men as they eagerly prepared for the coming battle. He had certainly turned them into warriors. They had pride and confidence in their ship and in themselves, and they did not want to return to port empty-handed.
Mackerel drained her batteries with every mile of progress, and Salisbury reported that the pinging was getting louder. When the submarine reached a position a mere mile from the channel, he reported many high speed screws across an area spanning five degrees.
Tremain formulated the picture in his head. The Ku-rita’s escorts were coming down the channel at high speed. They were headed straight toward the same spot Mackerel had been patrolling only hours before. With their current speed of advance, he estimated that Mackerel and the outbound fleet would reach the spot at nearly the same time, but from opposite directions.
Tremain looked over Stillsen’s shoulder at the chart. The Kurita and her escorts would come down the channel at high speed. When they reached the outlet and the open ocean, they would make a sharp turn to the left and head east, since that was the way to Yokosuka. The battle group would then probably start a zig-zag pattern. Once the Ku-rita began zigging, it would be nearly impossible to line up for a good shot. That’s why Mackerel had to get to the channel outlet before the Kurita did. It was their only chance, the only time the Japanese ship would be traveling in a straight line long enough to get a good torpedo solution on her.
Cazanavette measured off the distance to the channel with a pair of dividers. “We still have a half mile to go, sir. From the sound of those screws, it’s going to be close. I recommend increasing to flank.”
“Helm, all ahead flank,” Tremain said, which brought a smile from Cazanavette before he returned to his plot. Tremain clearly trusted his XO’s judgment.
“All ahead flank, aye, sir,” the helmsman replied from the forward conning tower wheel and Mackerel soon steadied at her maximum submerged speed of eleven knots, her hard-working motors sucking every ounce of electric power the two batteries could give them.