Part 45 (1/2)

”Could they be towed?”

”There's only one way to find out, Skipper,” the chief of the boat said.

”Put people on it, Chief,” Lennox ordered.

”Carefully, Chief,” Whittaker said. Both the chief and Lennox looked at him in surprise and annoyance, but then smiled when Whittaker went on. ”If we were to lose just one of those 'film' boxes out here, your beloved captain and myself would spend the rest of our days in Alcatraz.”

”I take your meaning, Sir,” the chief said with a smile.

By midafternoon, each of the boats had been brought on deck, inflated, checked for leaks, deflated, and then stowed, firmly tied to the mount of the twin Bofors aft of the conning tower.

The top was cut from an empty fifty-five-gallon oil drum, and then the drum three-quarters filled with seawater. Each outboard motor was test-run for five minutes, the noise incredible inside the hull.

The chief torpedoman was placed in charge of floating the ”film” boxes. He cut the flotation packets from life preservers and tied them around the wooden boxes. The available light line was soon exhausted, and two sailors made what was needed by first sawing through a length of four-inch manila hawser and then untwisting the strands.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait until dusk fell.

Commander Lennox waited until he was sure that Whittaker was in the control room, and then he started the dry run.

”Close all hatches and watertight doors,” he said, and the talker repeated the order.

Lennox could see the hatches on the deck closing, and he could hear a dull metallic clanging from all over the boat. With the exception of the hatch from the bridge, which would be his responsibility to close, the boat should now be watertight.

”All hatches and watertight doors secured, Sir,” the talker confirmed.

”Prepare to dive,” Lennox ordered. ”Clear the bridge!”

”Prepare to dive,” the talker repeated. ”Bridge being cleared.”

”Dive!” Lennox ordered ”Dive! Dive! Dive!” the talker said, and dropped through the hatch. Lennox followed him, then closed the hatch after him.

The sound of the Klaxon hurt his ears.

”Take her to one hundred feet,” the captain ordered, and put his hand out to steady himself as the bow of the Drum Drum nosed downward. nosed downward.

Ten minutes later, the bow of the Drum Drum broke the surface again. broke the surface again.

The moment it did, Lennox started his stopwatch.

As soon as he was on the bridge, with water still spilling over the deck, he started issuing orders.

”Battle stations,” he ordered.

The talker repeated the command, and the Klaxon went off.

”Man all cannon,” Lennox ordered.

Submariners erupted from the hatches and went to the guns.

”All astern one-third,” he ordered. ”Make her dead in the water.”

The pitch of the just-started diesels changed.

It was time for another command, but there was nothing standard that Lennox could recall that fit the situation.

”Make all preparations to launch the rubber boats,” he finally ordered.

Now there was activity from every hatch on the deck.

As crewmen freed the rubber boats from the Bofors mount and handed them to crewmen on the deck, other crewmen emerged from other hatches. The weapons and ammunition boxes were first placed on the deck in a line, then tied together with ten-foot lengths of line.

By the time the crewmen carrying the limp boats had reached the forward deck, others had air hoses waiting. It took what seemed like a long time for the boats to be inflated, and by the time they were, Whittaker, Hammersmith, and Radioman Second Joe Garvey had come onto the deck, wearing their gear, and were waiting.

The chief of the boat and the chief torpedoman put the rubber boat over the side themselves, lowering it with ropes until it touched the nearly horizontal section of the hull, then they jumped down onto it with ropes around their waists.

Then they pushed the boat off the hull into the water and raised their hands to help Whittaker from the deck to the sloping part of the hull and into the boat itself.

Whittaker jerked the starting rope of the outboard motor. When he had it running, he checked to see that the line tied to a grommet in the heavy black rubber was in place. Then he put the motor in gear, and the boat started off. When the line tied to the grommet drew taut, crewmen slid the first of the two larger ammunition and weapons boxes (now wrapped with life preserver flotation packs) into the water, then skidded the line of small ”film” boxes after it.

Then the process was repeated for the second boat, except that both Hammersmith and Joe Garvey got into that one.

The atmosphere had been tense: to see if the boats could be launched and whether or not the flotation packets would keep the weapons and film boxes afloat.

Then Lennox heard a guffaw, then a belly laugh, and then a high-pitched giggle. The first thing he thought, angrily, was that someone had fallen over the side. That, despite the genuine threat to life, was always good for a laugh from his men.

And then he saw the object of the amus.e.m.e.nt.

Jim Whittaker was fifty yards off the bow, making a wide turn to return to the Drum. Drum. The strain on the line towing the boxes behind the rubber boat, plus the weight of the outboard motor and of Whittaker himself, had caused the bow to rise almost straight up out of the water. The outboard was open full bore, but it was just barely moving, and Whittaker himself looked as if he was about to sink into the water. The strain on the line towing the boxes behind the rubber boat, plus the weight of the outboard motor and of Whittaker himself, had caused the bow to rise almost straight up out of the water. The outboard was open full bore, but it was just barely moving, and Whittaker himself looked as if he was about to sink into the water.

Sound carries well over water, and Whittaker heard the laughter of the crew.

He rose to the occasion. Balancing himself precariously, he saluted crisply.

”Man overboard!” a shout went up, followed by a bellow of laughter.

Lennox looked quickly to see what had happened. The chief torpedoman had lost his footing and gone into the water. The chief of the boat was trying, with absolutely no success, to haul him back aboard by the rope around his waist.

The captain of the USS Drum Drum picked up his electric hailer and started to put it to his lips. Then he took it down and slammed it painfully against his leg until the pain was such that he was no longer overcome with hysterics. picked up his electric hailer and started to put it to his lips. Then he took it down and slammed it painfully against his leg until the pain was such that he was no longer overcome with hysterics.

”Attention on the deck,” he finally announced. ”Prepare to recover rubber boats!” And then the temptation was too much. ”And while you're at it, see if you can recover the chief torpedoman.”

XIII.

1.

PeCS, HUNGARY 0500 HOURS 21 FEBRUARY 1943.