“What do we need to do, Master Chief?” one asked.
Master Chief Fire Control Technician Zeb Skelly shook his head and rubbed a hand through his thin hair. “Well, I knew we wouldn’t be able to get them all up. I’m just glad we were able to get them all but this one,” he said. The Master Chief had been working four weeks getting at least one of the old computers operating on each of the battleships. The four Iowas were not a problem. They had been operational when last decommissioned, but the others were put together from parts scavenged from what was left. The Massachusetts and the Alabama were running, but the old North Carolina had been the worst of the lot. No parts were left to scavenge, and it was obvious no one made computers like this any more. He ran his hand over some of the parts. “It’s okay, fellas, pay your respects to a fine piece of machinery. When they lit off the Iowas back in the 1980s, these computers were able to operate just as accurately as a digital computer to tell these big guns where to shoot. Let’s just put the old girl back together for now. We’re going to have to find another solution,” he said.
The men started lowering the big casting back over the inner workings as Skelly headed back up from the depths of the ship toward daylight. Despite his age, he didn’t get very winded after climbing up four sets of ladders. He walked up the starboard side and down the brow to the pier. After a short hike he came to an office in one of the workshops. It was a little strange, Newport News had shops for everything, but the modern systems were digital and nobody knew the kind of work he had been called in to do. As a matter of fact, most of the guys were sitting around waiting for electronic parts to come in so they could fix some of the newer systems. He walked past several men and opened the door. His friend Jason Fuchs was sitting there going over some diagrams. “Any luck?” Fuchs asked.
Skelly shook his head. “No way in hell unless we can get the parts made. But I got an idea,” he said. He grabbed the telephone and put it to his ear. “Get me Naval Sea Systems Command. I need to speak to Master Chief Dave Castigan,” he said to the operator of the shipyard. He sat back in his chair and waited. Fuchs knew to leave him alone. He had seen that determined look before and knew something was brewing. It took five full minutes for the call to go through.
The Master Chief suddenly sat up. “Dave! This is Skelly, how the hell are you?” There was a pause as the other man responded. “I bet. Listen, we got a problem with the North Carolina’s system. Yea, it’s a total loss. The directors are okay but the computer is trashed. Tell me something. You remember back in the eighties when they brought these ships back? Remember they did that test to see if a digital system would be any better? What kind of a computer did they use for that? You’re shitting me? Are the components around somewhere? What about the plans?” he fired off the questions one after another. Then a grin crossed his face. “OK, Dave, I think you know where I’m going with this. I need you to dig that stuff up and get it down here ASAP. I’ll find a computer, but I need the digital/analog converters and interfaces. I’m gonna get some of these sand crabs down here to get it ready. Right, the whole thing. What’s the program on?” He froze a second. “Now how the hell can we get that program off of magnetic tape?” he suddenly asked a little miffed. Finally he nodded. “Okay, Master Chief, I’ll leave it up to you. Get it on CD or something so we can get going. I’m going to call Dell or HP and get what I can. Thanks, Dave,” he said finally hanging up the telephone.
Skelly looked over at Fuchs. “Close,” he said. They used an old IBM 486 desktop to do it the last time. They modified it a little but used parallel connections to hook in all the inputs. Then they used digital/analog converters to tie it into a system. Luckily, it’s down at Dahlgren. But the program is on mag tape and he said it was too big to use a floppy. He’s going to see if there is a way to transfer it to a CD. We should get a call from Dahlgren this afternoon,” he said looking around the room. “In the mean time, I need a PC. Get one of these guys out here to start rattling the cages and find me one, then tell them to get ready, cause I’m going to rip this old computer out and put the new one in. They are going to have to make it fit all the old couplings,” he said as he flew out the door and back toward the ship.
Fuchs got up and walked to the door, looking out at the men sitting around. “Okay, you guys, I have work for you. I need a brand new PC in here and I want it within 24 hours. Second, I need you to get ready to rig some adaptors to change parallel connectors to USBs, then drag out the schematics on the connectors used on these old Fords. We will be hooking the fire control directors from 1936 into a computer made just this year — along with the interfaces — and I don’t want any mistakes,” he growled. “So off your asses and on your feet, we have a job to do!” The men knew he was not kidding. They jumped to their feet and started getting the materials they needed. The supply clerk got on the telephone. All he needed was a computer.
Commander Bobby Dandridge was sitting in his chair on the bridge wing — holding on for dear life. Never had he imagined how exhilarating it would be to go this fast. He was given this ship and told to get a crew up to speed. Nearly every crewman was either a reservist or retiree. The ship was USS Rooks a World War II era destroyer brought back to the US from South America. At first, Dandridge thought he wouldn’t be able to get the ship out of the harbor, but in just a short period of time he saw the wisdom in detailing the personnel to the ship. Nearly every one of these guys had served in “cans.” They came aboard knowing nearly every system onboard, and the few systems added were quickly learned. The maintenance facility fixed all the problems reported, so there was no excuse for not taking the old girl to sea.
Chief Engineer Chad Messer had actually been an LDO or limited duty officer. Starting as an enlisted man, he came up as a Machinist Mate and had been sent to college and made an officer. He retired at 30 years, which was a good 10 years before. Once back in an engine room, he purred over the equipment like a mother cat with her kittens and had all his people doing the same. He drilled his people unmercifully until they could recite the Operational Propulsion Plant procedures coming and going. Then he re-inspected all the things the shipyard had cleared. The commander remembered him coming up and requesting an underway period to shake the ship out. After getting the OK, Messer ordered fires lit. With great fanfare, he lit off 1 Alpha. When he found no problems, he lit off 1 Bravo. Then 2 Alpha and Bravo. After setting safeties, and topping off fresh water, feed water and fuel, USS Rooks was underway.
The first few hours were spent letting the ship settle in. There was a moderate swell, but relatively calm sea. Most of the crew had to get used to the motion anyway. Most of the newer ships were much heavier — almost three times as much. Most had fin stabilizers to keep the ship sitting relatively upright. Stabilizers hadn’t even been dreamed of when this ship had been built. The ship weighed only 2,050 tons. She was about 350 feet long but only 40 feet wide, so she sliced through the water instead of forcing her way through it. The near vertical bow often allowed the sea to roll over the top and down the forward part of the ship, sometimes throwing spray high into the air.