Action for Men, May 1960 — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Even if Perch’s periscopes had been good enough to sight an enemy at night (which they were not), Dave would still have elected to make a night surface attack despite the threatening presence of the escort. Only thus could he hope to follow the tracks of his torpedoes and resolve one way or the other the questions raised by the Hong Kong fail- ure. With the cross hairs of the TBT lined up on the freighter, he pressed the button which transmitted the bearing to the conning tower where Ken Schacht would be cranking it into his Torpedo Data Computer together with information being worked up on the plotting board by Beverly Van Buskirk, ex- ecutive officer and navigator. “Range estimate one five double oh... . Stand by to fire bow tubes.” “Bow tubes ready.” Tense silence reigned on the bridge and throughout the ship. “Lookouts below,” Dave spoke quietly. He would want everything set for a quick dive when the escorts turned to attack. He was alone on the bridge, his whole mind con- centrated on that shadowy bulk growing larger by the minute. ree one one double oh... . . Shoot !” “The snort of high-pressure air font the number one forward tube heralded the de- parture of the first torpedo The other three followed at precisely timed intervals, their wakes clearly visible in the bright starlight. After what seemed like endless minutes of crawling, the wake of number one inter- sected the center line of the target. Silence. DON’T DECIDE YOUR FUTURE UNTIL YOU HAVE READ Stand by. _ The dull weight of frustration settled on his thoughts. He was tempted to turn away from the binoculars. First, it was a blinding flash that com- pletely wiped out his night vision. Then came the heavy roar—a distant roar—a roar from about range one one double oh. “Sound reports violent explosion and breaking-up noises,” came the elated report from the conning tower. Dave didn’t even notice that numbers three and four torpedoes had missed. As his vision returned, he could see the freighter still making headway, flames from her forward section blowing aft to engulf her bridge and superstructure. Then he saw something else—the forward twin mount of the escort ship spurted angry orange flame, and two shells raised columns of water a scant 100 yards to starboard, “Dive! Dive !—150 feet !” Air blubbered out of the vents as he slammed the conning-tower hatch shut be- hind him. He knew that a depth of 150 feet gave him little protection from depth charges. But he also knew that in these shoal reaches there was at most 160 feet of water. They were still on their way down when the Japanese warship loosed the first string of depth charges. The lethal cylinders fell with grim accuracy toward Perch, shaking and tossing the submarine so violently that navigational instruments and other loose gear were sent flying to the deck. “All stop,” Dave ordered. “Rig for silent running. Keep her negative.” With no power on the motors and in a state of negative buoyancy, Perch settled « rapidly, then came to rest in the slimy cushion of muddy bottom. Bottoming is not a com- . fortable course of action, because it makes a submarine a sitting duck for surface at- tackers. But it is the only means of making a ship completely silent. They could hear the target’s breaking-up noises. They could also hear the escort’s screws slow as he checked his speed for more accurate listening search. The faint chug- chug of an auxiliary pump in the enemy’s en- gine room punctuated the absolute silence. : Then the surface prowler started up at high speed. Tautly Perch’s men braced for what might be the fatal termination of their mission. Barroooom! Barroooom! THE depth charges came closer, then re- ceded. Obviously, the surface stalker was dropping a line which this time did not cross the silent, mud-clutched submarine. For more than an hour Perch remained bottomed. The escort had given up after 20 minutes and they heard his propeller cavitation recede in the direction of the stricken merchant steamer. The breaking-up noises continued, but it was apparent that the maru was a stubborn bird. It would have been nice to wait around to confirm their kill, but the probability that more enemy ships would come out and perhaps renew the search sug- gested the prudence of getting out of there. “Blow negative,” Dave ordered. “Bring -her to 60 feet. I’ll try a look through the high scope. At least I should be able to see if she’s still burning.” : With planes trained upward and motors at How To Make Big Money Fast in the Accident Investigation & Adjusting Field A. J. Allen earned over $2,000 in ten weeks. Gary Williams doubled his former salary. 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