Golden Gate by Philip James

Author:Philip, James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

13:45 Hours

HMS Culloden

San Francisco Bay

Abe was still groggy, nauseous and when he was first raised to his feet his legs did not seem to belong to him. That might have been the motion of the boat as it wallowed, a foot of water sloshing about around his ankles in the shadow of a big ship. Strong hands under his arms, bracing him against the gyration of the barge steadied him and a moment later lifted him, bodily onto what belatedly he recognised was a pontoon lashed to the foot of a broad, stepped gangway.

He glanced half-over his shoulder at the land, seeing only flaring fires and impenetrable grey-black clouds of smoke covering a broad arc of the eastern shoreline of the harbour. Then he was being urged, dragged, and pushed up the gangway.

“Name?” A sick bay attendant demanded some minutes after he had ascended to the deck, a long climb with his legs like jelly still, and been virtually carried down into the ship to be propped, like other stupefied and injured men, sitting on the bare plates in a passageway as men came and went, running, jogging, swearing. “What’s your name?”

Abe had to think about that.

“Lincoln,” he muttered. “Fielding… No, Lincoln. Lieutenant Commander, aviator… And surgeon…”

He must have sounded as drunk as he felt.

“Jesus!” The man kneeling beside him uttered in astonishment.

Abe’s eyes stung, as if they were half-clogged with particulates of oil, his throat was raw and his chest rattled. He coughed hurtfully. Retched. And began, at last to feel better.

The sick bay attendant had called down the passageway.

Another man squatted down beside Abe.

“Surgeon Commander Lincoln?”

“Lieutenant Commander,” Abe corrected him. “Where is this?”

“You’re on the Culloden, sir,” Abe was informed. “The outflow from the San Leandro is washing debris, and survivors, thank God, down our starboard side, that’s how we managed to collect the boat you were in, sir.”

The other officer was just a boy, a sub-lieutenant albeit possibly only four or five years Abe’s junior. He opened his mouth to speak…

The collision bell sounded deafeningly.

Loud enough to wake the dead, Abe thought idly.

He was hauled to his feet, then immediately found himself face down on the deck trying to work out what had just happened. Something had hit the side of the ship, the deck had moved beneath him and he, like every other man around him had been thrown sidelong.

A bomb hit.

Or perhaps, a near miss…

He was being picked up again.

The ships screws were turning, he could feel the reverberation through the soles of his…bare feet.

Where did my shoes go?

The metal deck plates were cold.

He shivered, realising that he was naked above the waist and his trousers were shredded on one side. In a moment of panic, he checked his left hand, and almost fainted with relief when the glint of gold got past the oil caked on his fingers.

Somewhere above his head he heard the unmistakable rhythmic thumping of the cruiser’s 1.8-inch quadruple anti-aircraft cannons, and in momentary breaks, as the feeder trays were replenished, the faster, chopping sound of a couple of the wicked new 0.

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