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The rescue effort was doomed. Even though the fires seemed under control, the damaged destroyer would soon be sunk and was just delaying the inevitable.
This was borne out when several Japanese destroyers were sighted in the distance. The two remaining American destroyers promptly steamed after them to do battle. It was a mistake. Almost before they were away, one of the destroyers exploded, lifting out of the water before she settled back and disappeared. She was quickly followed by the second, and word went down that they’d been sunk by torpedoes.
“Can’t be,” Jamie said in dismay to the men of his ad hoc damage control party as they waited on the deck. The range was just too great, and the explosion was too big for torpedoes. “What the hell do the Japs have?”
Moments later, the Pe
“Tell me that wasn’t a torpedo, Lieutenant,” said Seaman Fiorini, one of the men in the party.
Before Jamie could answer, the big guns on the rear turret began a thunderous long-range duel with the rapidly closing Japanese destroyers. The Pe
The Pe
Two hours later a floatplane was sighted on the horizon, and everyone on the Pe
Shortly after they were sighted, shells began to rain down on the Pe
“Sixteen-inchers,” Fiorini said. “Maybe larger. Probably eighteens.”
Jamie laughed. “Ain’t nothing bigger than sixteen-inchers, and I don’t think the Japs have any of those. Besides, who made you an authority on big guns?”
Others in the party laughed nervously. Fiorini had been in the paymaster’s office and helped run the battleship’s newspaper. Fiorini was not deterred. “Sixteens at least,” he said, and the others hooted. It was good to be distracted, if only for a moment.
The Pe
The Pe
Bloodily dismembered bodies were piled about, and wounded, many horribly mangled, lay screaming where they fell. Some of the unhurt ran around in confusion and blind terror, interfering with those who were trying to do their duty and fight the ship. Walking was difficult because of the blood that ran down the decks, and several of Jamie’s group were hit by debris and body parts. One sailor was swept overboard by a metal fragment, while another was killed when a human arm was driven through his chest like a spear.
Jamie took the survivors belowdecks, where they were shielded from the deadly rain. Anyone not in a turret or protected by the ship’s armor was going to die and very quickly. The battleship was fighting back, as the sound of her guns attested, but it seemed that the rate of fire was diminishing as the Japanese shells found their targets.
In the midst of the horror, Fiorini grabbed his arm. “Come with me, Lieutenant. You gotta see this.”
Jamie followed Fiorini down another couple of decks. The electricity was flickering, and Jamie was afraid he would be trapped in the dark bowels of a sinking ship, like the men in the Oklahoma, and the fear almost paralyzed him.
Fiorini read his thoughts. “Just through here, sir. Remember the hit that didn’t explode?”
“Yeah,” Jamie said nervously. It had happened a few moments earlier, when a shell slammed into the ship only a few dozen feet from them and they all thought they were dead. While they’d gasped in relief, Fiorini had disappeared for a moment.
Finally, Fiorini paused. “Look at her, but don’t touch. She’s still hot and may go off.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Embedded in the decking was a monstrous shell. Its head was buried and out of sight, but the base was fully visible. Jamie was a gu
“Hold this,” Fiorini said, handing him a tape measure. Jamie complied and measured the shell’s diameter. Eighteen inches! It was incredible; no, impossible. The Japs were firing eighteen-inch shells against them. He’d been told that nobody had eighteen-inchers, but he was staring at one.
Fiorini pulled a small camera from his work bag and took several flash pictures while Jamie held the tape. Jamie was about to comment on the camera when he recalled Fiorini’s work on the ship’s paper.
“These could be important,” Fiorini said, and Jamie agreed.
“But first we got to get them out of here.”
Somebody hollered that the ship was sinking, and they returned to the fury of the outside world as another Japanese salvo pounded them. By this time, the deck was only a few feet above the water, and the ship was tilted several degrees to starboard. Sailors were leaving the stricken vessel and were able to do so almost by stepping into the water.
“Who gave the order to abandon ship?” Jamie asked.
“No one,” came the reply. There was no one left to give the command. The venerable old Pe
Jamie, Fiorini, and scores of others stepped from the deck into the water. They swam toward floating debris while the doomed battleship moved slowly past them with stately dignity as shells continued to rain down, killing many of the men in the water. Jamie thanked the facts that he had his life jacket on and that he was an excellent swimmer.
When he reached the debris, he gathered several dozen survivors and lashed debris together to form a raft. While they worked, the Pe
Jamie watched as the uneven struggle ended. Fiorini continued to take pictures, and Jamie wondered how he’d kept his camera dry.
“Rubber pouch” was the answer. Fiorini then unloaded the film and put it in the pouch. The camera he tossed into the ocean. “No more film.”