"David, tell the gun boss to have some grenades brought down aft. The least we can do is make it uncomfortable for him."
A few moments later, when David reported the grenades ready, Carter ordered. "Tell them to drop the first one in thirty seconds and then two more after counting to fifteen each time, as we pass over him. And make sure Welles knows when we're dropping them. I don't need an ASW officer or sonarmen with punctured eardrums." He turned to Collier, "Tell the other units over pritac what we're doing. I don't want to have some other CO trying to deck me in the "O" Club the next time."
The noise of an underwater explosion is compounded since water tends to hold that sound, as opposed to air, which rapidly dissipates it. A grenade going off underwater may sound like a cannon shot to those nearby. Within a submarine, the explosion is magnified to the point that an untrained crew, or one with little experience, will think they have just been hit. The purpose of the toilet paper is to ensure that the sub's crew is kept as nervous as possible. The paper will gradually disintegrate as the grenade floats down until the handle releases, still taking a bit more time before detonation. A light wrapping of paper will bring an explosion at about 100 feet, while a gunner's mate with experience can wrap the grenade so that it might go down as far as 250 to 300 feet, or more. The deeper the water, the greater the pressure, the louder the bang… all that effect for the price of a grenade! Welles estimated the sub to be at about 300 feet, and the grenade was wrapped by an expert.
It was extremely humid in the cramped submarine. The water temperature outside was cool enough so that heat wasn't the problem. But the combination of humidity caused by the always leaking water, and the increasing closeness of the air, made comfort of any kind impossible. Alex Kupinsky had no concern about his crew cracking under the strain. They were all hand-picked, as was he, and they offered no complaints. The most difficult problem for all of them was the fact that they didn't know yet what had brought about the apparent conflict with the United States, nor were they sure of the intentions of the American destroyers. The unknown was their greatest enemy.
The chief engineer had just reported that the fuel pump was acting up again, and that the air supply was good for a little more than five hours. And the bearing on the shaft was heating up again. He could not guarantee to his captain that it would last the night. If it reached a certain temperature, then they would have to shut down the shaft or risk it warping at 300 feet. Each of those problems were considered separately by Kupinsky. The fuel pump could be a problem later. He would try to keep his speed down except for a couple of rapid changes, especially if he could find a temperature gradient. The air supply was his major concern. While they could stay down for another five hours, the greatest problem was that the men's efficiency would decrease at a certain point, and then he might just as well surface. Since he was the only one aboard the boat with any knowledge of English, he understood the Americans on the underwater telephone saying they would hold him down until he had no choice but to surface. Then the grenades, which were indeed expertly wrapped, began to explode at the same depth as his boat. It was the worst of times to be facing the unknown.
"Tell Frank to request them to surface again. They've had time to think about those grenades now," Carter nodded to David. The whitecaps had now grown into waves that were large enough to make the many course changes uncomfortable. One advantage, David knew, that a submarine had was the smooth weather underneath, but he decided he'd rather be on the surface at this point.
There was no answer to the grenades, nor to any of the repeated requests to surface. The night drew on and the men grew tired. They had been at their stations since before 1800, and it was now almost midnight. Six hours… any response would have raised their spirits, but it is difficult to perform consistently when there is no evidence that your efforts are having any effect.
"It's tough for them down there now," Carter began to nobody in particular. "It stinks in that sub, a lot worse than in CIC or main control. The air has been breathed by too many people too often, and it doesn't taste good at all. And I understand from submariners I've known that you get a headache after a while, a throbbing one that doesn't go away." He knew everything he was saying would be relayed by the various talkers on the bridge to the other stations. "And can you imagine what it's like when those grenades go off? Which reminds me, David. Have them drop five more this time. Same precautions as usual." After he was satisfied that his orders were being carried out, he continued, "I don't mind telling you… the noise those things make when you're inside one of those boats.… No, sir, friends have told me when they came back to Pearl from a mission that half the stink in the boat was the shit in their skivvies." He went on and what he was saying passed through the ship, and he knew that shortly the men on the Bagley would stop worrying about themselves. They would respect their enemy's position.
The men on the other ships were just as itchy. Carter noted that the signalmen were talking more often with their lights. Once or twice, the other CO's mentioned the possibility of using stronger methods to convince the sub to surface. The captain of Bartlett had even suggested that he would be happy to roll one or two depth charges. He hastened to add that, of course, he would ensure that the depth and location would be far enough away so that there was no danger of damaging the enemy. Carter thought to himself how easy it was for the hunter to always consider a weapon larger than he needed.
Frank Welles had picked up an occasional screeching sound on his sonar, which he finally identified as submarine machinery rather than playful porpoises. The other ships heard it, too, and all agreed that their quarry was experiencing some mechanical problems. He'll try a few more tricks and then surface, Carter thought. He won't do anything rash unless he's provoked.
"Pinwheel Leader, Pinwheel Leader." The voice was urgent over the primary frequency. "This is Backfire. Unidentified device in the water bearing two eight five my position." It was Harriett again. "Initial identification… torpedo," the voice bellowed. "Taking evasive action."
Before Carter could question sonar, the speaker over his head, the one that was used only for contact reports, answered, "We copied that transmission, Captain. It may be a noisemaker." Carter ordered a turn toward the object.
After another fifteen seconds, Welles's voice came again, "Recommend emergency… negative! Forget that.… We've got a noisemaker definitely, repeat definite noisemaker.… He's just turned again, and he's picking up speed. That's his decoy." There was a pause for a moment while Welles kept the key down on the speaker. "And what a wail in his machinery, Captain. He's got problems." After another moment's hesitation he added, "Oh, sorry, Captain. I forgot the speaker was right over your head." A click, then silence.
But Bartlett was not satisfied. "Pinwheel, this is Backfire. Contact precipitated action first. I am preparing for a torpedo attack. We have a firing solution based on their new course and speed after torpedo release."
"That stupid son of a bitch!" Carter grabbed for the mike himself. "This is Pinwheel Leader. Break off all attacks. I repeat… break off all attacks. Device is identified as a noisemaker. Acknowledge, over."
"Like hell it is," Bartlett's CO came back. "We know what a goddamn torpedo sounds like. We're no sitting ducks."
"This is Pinwheel Leader. I say again, break off attack. I am running down the bearing of the device in the water now. I will pass over it in ten seconds. It is not a torpedo… repeat, not a torpedo. All ships prepare to reform pinwheel. Contact has just broken through our circle."