The Colonel jumped and quickly made his way out the door. He thought she was really pissed. In fact, she was happy as a clam. In three minutes Grayson and Ross came back in the room. They found her pouring over charts of the coasts. She stood again when they entered. “Gentlemen, I think we may have an answer.” Both men looked at her questioningly. It had only been a few minutes since they had all left in dismay. Now a change?
“Ross, I want to change the plans a little,” she said. “I want to land here and here,” she said pointing at two places on the chart. Both men looked down at where she was pointing. It looked like major cities with large port facilities. It was obvious they didn’t get it.
“Ross, how about going to Baltimore with the Colonel here tomorrow and talk to our friends at Hyundai. I bet they have some ships we can use,” she said with a grin.
“Permission granted to light off One Alpha,” came the voice over the bitch box.
Senior Chief Messick checked the boiler front one last time. He reached down and picked up the lighting off torch. One end of the torch had a cloth that was soaked in some fuel. One flick of a lighter and the cloth end caught and began to burn. A small cover was pulled open on the lighting off port leading into the boiler casing. He already made sure that no fuel was on the floor that might pre-ignite. The lighted torch was inserted into the boiler and, after making sure it was still lit, the port was closed. The First Class Petty Officer opened the number one burner atomizer safety valve and then opened the number one fuel oil supply valve one-half turn.
Inside the burner, the pressurized fuel oil slammed through the tube and hit the tip of the atomizer causing it to spin rapidly, spinning the fuel into a vapor. The vapor sprayed into the boiler casing just above the torch resulting in a sudden flash of flame. The Senior Chief looked through the observation port and saw the flame. He then adjusted the flame and opened up the fuel oil supply to full. He smiled at the result, turned and grabbed the mike. “Fires lit in One Alpha.”
The Senior Chief opened another set of valves on the number two burner, then three and so on over the next hour until all the burners were lit and the water was slowly brought to a boil. The top watch kept an eye on the water levels in the steam drum, while the lower level watched the burners and the pressures. The steam-driven forced-draft blowers were sped up as the boiler came up to pressure taking over from the electric one used when lighting off. Care was taken to make sure the water levels inside the boiler were maintained. Too much water and there was a high water casualty that would possibly allow water to enter the system and strike rapidly turning turbine blades in an engine, generator, or blower. Too low and the water, which actually cooled the steel boiler tubes, would drop below the tops of the tubes causing them to overheat and possibly split open. A rapid refilling would cause a thermal shock and tremendous explosion. By the time the boiler was online, it was operating at 600 psi and generating superheated steam at a temperature of nearly 800 degrees. The safeties were set and, after making all the tests and checks, the boiler was certified as operational. By that time One Bravo had been lit off and was nearing its operating pressures. Six more boilers waited to be tested and certified.
Kee Yuan Ho was scared. He was a common driver for the Democratic People’s Republic who worked his way up from small Lorries to the largest trucks in the fleet. He spent the last three weeks delivering Army supplies from the huge depots near Pyongyang to troops now in what was called South Korea. Day after day he had driven his truck almost to the breaking point, and then he was told to take two days off because his truck was scheduled for maintenance. He fell onto his mat and didn’t move for over 24 hours. When he woke, he stepped from his one room apartment and looked around the neighborhood.
The suburb of Pyongyang was not much more than a slum by western standards. The streets were made of dirt and the buildings plain and utilitarian. Occasionally there was room where a tree was growing either in a courtyard or beside a building where it was protected from the street. Smoke rose from each building as the cooking pots boiled the evening’s meager meals. A haze hung over the buildings and the rest of the city, not from automobiles but from the manufacturing plants surrounding them. You could smell a variety of things in the air, from some kind of flowers and food preparation to the heavier smell of industrial waste. Kee was about to go back inside when he saw it — a small stick poking out from under a flower pot in his side window.
It was a signal he dreaded for the past five years. He had worked his way up the chain at the transportation office to a position of trust. On his very first assignment to make a pick up in China it happened. He had been required to wait overnight as the truck was loaded. While staying in the local party barracks he had befriended a Chinese man and they had gone out to have a couple of beers. The next day he awoke in the man’s bed. Exiting quickly; he had been confronted by a Chinese official. They had taken photographs and had all the evidence of a homosexual orgy he could not remember. He was taken to a headquarters and after a long interrogation offered a chance to have all charges dropped. The only catch had been that he would forever do their bidding. During several trips to China he was trained in covert operations and told to return to work. They would contact him by placing a small twig under the flower pot. He had been told to keep that pot there all year long. Now he must put on his clothes and go down by the river to seemingly fish.
Kee rapidly threw on his clothes and grabbed his fishing pole. The river was about ten blocks away. He walked rapidly through the people on the street. No one looked up or had anything but a bored expression on their face. It made his job easier since he thought he probably looked guilty of everything. He crossed several streets and came to the reed covered backwater along the river. It was full of trash and debris. Coming to the water’s edge, he sat on a small stump and cast out his line. In no way would he eat anything caught in this river. He hadn’t even baited his hook. Thirty minutes later he reeled in his line and packed it up.
On the way back Kee took his time. He looked into a couple of shops and made his way through a small crowd. Upon returning to his home, he closed the window and retrieved the message that had been expertly placed in his pocket. After reading it, he threw it into the small wood stove and watch it burn thoroughly. He didn’t feel rested yet, but he knew he must get back to his truck. He would be contacted again soon.
It was no use. The river had been forded in several places. The North Korean Army was moving forward again, although at a heavy price. The Americans were throwing everything into defense, while the South Korean Army soldiers were fighting fanatics. On two occasions the North Koreans were pushed back across the river, using up a month’s worth of artillery shells in the process. The next time across, the North sent over twice the men using three times the guns. Even then the South Koreans kept them at bay for more than three days until the North Korean Air Force hit the ammunition storage area and fuel depot. The soldiers simply started running out of things to throw at them.
The crossing was not an isolated incident. The South was fighting along a 180 mile front and constant pressure was exerted along the entire length. The defensive effort was enormous. A few ships had come through to Pusan bringing sorely needed ammunition and supplies. The airplanes brought even more, but there was no way to supply the entire effort by air. It would mean a constant airlift similar to the one supplying Berlin during the blockade. It was ships that always brought what was really needed. The submarine offensive helped, but aircraft came over almost every day. In the first two days all the aircraft in South Korea had been destroyed on the ground. Only now were some aircraft able to come across from Japan to provide very limited air cover. But these aircraft had limited time on station and were not top of the line. Despite all efforts, the South was losing ground by a couple of miles a day.