Impossible Nazi by Ward Wagher

Author:Ward Wagher [Wagher, Ward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781717839855
Published: 2018-08-24T22:00:00+00:00

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August 22, 1942; 9 AM

USS Hessian

The southern Philippine Sea

The former German U-boat cruised slowly and quietly at one-hundred-fifty feet under the surface of the Philippine Sea. She was beginning the second day of the deployment.

“Contact, Mr. Rogers,” the hydrophone operator sang out.

The executive officer quickly moved over to where the operator sat.

“Talk to me.”

“Single screw, Sir. Not much cavitation. I’d guess a tanker or freighter with a heavy load. Turns for maybe eight or nine knots. Dead on zero-zero relative; six-thousand yards.”

“Dive control, bring us to sixty feet,” Rogers said. “Pass the word to go to quarters.”

“Aye, aye, Exec,” one of the chiefs said.

“Yeoman, go get the Skipper up.”

“Aye, aye, Exec.”

“Helm, steady as she goes,” Rogers said quietly. He laid a hand on the hydrophone operator’s shoulder. “Don’t fixate on the target. If there’s an escort out there, we need to know about it.”

“Aye, aye, Mr. Rogers. Other than that one big boy out there ahead of us, it’s pretty quiet today.”

Lieutenant-Commander Carper ghosted up next to Rogers. “What do we have, Jolly?”

“Freighter or tanker at six-thousand. Looks like she’s moving starboard to port, eight or nine knots. We are at sixty feet. I sent the crew to quarters.”

“Thanks, Jolly,” Carper murmured. “Let’s go take a look.”

Carper moved over to the periscope island. He nodded to the sailor controlling the hoist.

“Wide awake, Klepper?”

“Yes, Sir. The cook’s coffee does that to you, Sir.”

Carper grinned broadly at him. “What, you don’t like that good Navy coffee?”

“Sir, it keeps me awake.”

“Good answer. Let’s raise the scope. I want it just below the surface.”

“Aye, aye, Sir. Scope coming up. Just below the surface.”

The polished metal shaft of the periscope rose out of the well. The eyepiece halted about two-feet off the island. Carper dropped to his knees and pulled down the handles. With his eye in the eyepiece, he duck-walked around a full circle.

“Bring me up two feet, Klepper.”

“Two feet, aye, Sir.”

Carper repeated the process and then turned the scope carefully. “Bearing mark.”

“Bearing zero-zero-two,” Klepper sang out.

“I make it five-six-zero-zero yards,” Carper said. “Confirm nine knots. It’s a tanker. Down scope.”

Rogers twisted the dials on the Is-Was to calculate the torpedo bearing, as the periscope sank into its well.

“How do we look, Jolly?”

“Range is a little long, but I think we have a good shot.”

“Let’s set it up, then,” Carper said.

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

“What I want to do,” Carper remarked, “is to take one shot. One torpedo. It’s pretty quiet, and it looks like this bird is all by itself. If we miss, we’ll have another opportunity. Worst case, we can surface, and sink it with gunfire.”

Rogers looked a little doubtful.

“Problems, Number One?”

“It’s full daylight up there, Skipper,” Rogers said.

“That’s why I said worst case. I really do not want to surface the boat this morning.”

“I’m really glad to hear you say that, Sir.”

“Very well,” Carper said. “How do the fish look?”

“Torpedoes nominal in all respects, Sir.”

“Okay then, up scope.”

Once again Carper scanned the area around the tanker. “Bearing mark.”

“Bearing mark,” Klepper repeated.

“I am going to fire from tube one.

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