The World War II Collection by Lord Walter;

Author:Lord, Walter; [Lord, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4547362
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2012-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER IX

“You Don’t Wear a Tie to War”

THE BREESE SAW IT first. From her anchorage off Pearl City, the old destroyer-minecraft sighted a conning tower turning up the west side of Ford Island just after 8:30. The Medusa and Curtiss saw it a few minutes later, and signal flags fluttered from all three yardarms.

The Monaghan caught the warning right away. The ready-duty destroyer had now cleared her nest and was heading down the west channel, the first ship to get going. A signalman turned to Commander Bill Burford: “Captain, the Curtiss is flying a signal that means, ‘Submarine sighted to starboard.’”

Burford explained it was probably a mistake … such a thing could easily happen in all the confusion of gunfire and burning ships.

“Okay, Captain — then what is that thing dead ahead of us that looks like an over-and-under shotgun?”

The skipper squinted through the smoke and was amazed to see a small submarine moving toward them on the surface several hundred yards ahead. In its bow were two torpedo tubes, not side by side as usual, but one directly above the other. They seemed to be pointed directly at the Monaghan.

By now everybody was firing. The Curtiss pumped a shell right through the conning tower at 8:40 — decapitating the pilot, according to her gunners; clipping off his coat button, according to Monaghan men. The Medusa was firing too, but at the crucial moment the powder hoist broke on the gun that had the best shot. The Monaghan’s own guns were blazing as she rushed at the sub, but the shot missed and hit a derrick along the shore.

The midget missed too. It failed to get the Curtiss with one torpedo; the other whisked by the charging Monaghan and exploded on the Ford Island shore. The Monaghan rushed on, and everybody else held their fire as Burford tried to ram. He grazed the conning tower, not really a square blow, but hard enough to spin the sub against the Monaghan’s side as she surged by. Chief Torpedoman’s Mate G. S. Hardon set his depth charges for 30 feet and let them go. They went off with a terrific blast, utterly destroying the sub and knocking down nearly everybody on deck. Fireman Ed Creighton thought the ship had at least blown up its own fantail.

But she hadn’t. Instead, the Monaghan rocketed on, now too late to make her turn into the main channel leading to sea. She drove ashore at Beckoning Point, piling into the derrick already set on fire by her guns. Fireman Creighton ran to the bow and manned a hose; others wrestled the anchor free. Burford backed off, turned, and steamed out to sea while the nearby ships rang with cheers.

The whole harbor was on the upsurge. A trace of jauntiness — even cockiness —began to appear. Three men in a 50-foot launch hawked .30- and .50-caliber ammunition off the foot of Ford Island as if they were selling vegetables. A bomb hit a mobile “gedunk” wagon on

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