Sheppard Of The Argonne Page 4

  The ceremony was the same, just reversed, with a different order to the pipes Over the Side and Alongside. The moment that Hughes dropped his salute, the third-repeat pennant soared to the block on the port yardarm of Argonne’s foremast. Aboard the gig, Sheppard took a seat and propped up his leg. Cruz immediately called for full throttle by ringing the engine bell four times. On this trip, Cruz added an additional ding at the end, telling Fireman Russert to disengage the engine’s governor for even higher rpm’s. Cruz then headed directly to Sabine’s after-starboard accommodation ladder. As far as Sheppard knew, Cruz only used three speeds for the gig: maximum power ahead, maximum power astern, and stop—nothing else. It was a good thing, because Sheppard was running late. The two seaman synchronized their display of boathooks, and Sheppard settled down with the list of officers and chief petty officers that the XO had provided, beginning to memorize names.

  Shortly, he heard the Sabine’s Officer of the Deck call out, “Boat ahoy!”

  Cruz quickly answered with “Argonne!”

  A perfect landing caught the Sabine’s quarterdeck watches by surprise, causing the boatswain’s mate of the watch to swallow his last note of the Alongside. Sheppard stepped to the landing stage as smoothly as his injured leg would allow, cursing under his breath every aircraft carrier that ever sailed the sea. He would have to climb almost four decks to the level of her hangar. As he climbed, Sheppard noticed that he was not the last to arrive. Rear Admiral Raymond Calhoun, Commander Battle Cruiser Squadron Six, was still a few hundred yards off in his barge.

  Another set of quarterdeck ceremonies later, Sheppard limped along after a marine lance corporal through the aft boat pocket that served as Sabine’s quarterdeck to “Argonne, arriving” on the carrier’s general announcing system. They turned forward in the cavernous hangar filled with F4F-3 Wildcat fighters, SBD-3 Dauntless dive-bombers, TBD-1 Devastator torpedo planes, and a few odd utility aircraft. About three-quarters of the way forward in the hangar deck, the marine ducked through a starboard watertight door, through an open deck hatch, and proceeded down a ladder. When he reached the second deck, the lance corporal disappeared.

  Now what? Sheppard thought as he limped down the ladder; surely he was going to be lost in this bird farm and die of starvation before anyone found him. Worse still, he would be late for the briefing, embarrassing himself and his ship in front of all these brown-shoe aviators.

  “Hello, Sheppard,” Admiral Calhoun said. “You look lost.”

  Sheppard had known Calhoun for years. The admiral’s tanned and lined face confirmed his reputation as a seagoing officer. The ready smile and solicitous greeting softened his chiseled features and close-cropped gray hair.

  “Yes, sir,” Sheppard said sheepishly. “I am afraid I’ve never served on a carrier.”

  “You’ve crossed paths with Kevin Bailey, CO of Belleau Wood, haven’t you?” Admiral Calhoun asked, glancing toward the pale, trim, and handsome captain with him.

  “Yes, sir,” Sheppard answered.

  Sheppard gave a quick nod to Bailey, but it was without the customary smile. Sheppard knew more of the man than he wished.

  Crossed swords with him, is more like it, he thought.

  They had both served in Washington DC in the mid-1930s when Sheppard had the sixteen-inch gun desk at the Bureau of Ordnance.

  Now, like then, Sheppard had little use for anyone he considered an ass-kissing, pompous incompetent. Bailey had spent most of his time at various headquarters and the Bureau of Navigation, as far from sea duty as possible. He was an ass-kisser—a paper pusher. Bailey probably viewed command of one of the Navy’s latest battle cruisers as a just reward for attending numerous cocktail parties while escorting admiral’s wives, just a short tour away from Washington to get his capital ship-command ticket punched. It did not help that Kevin had tried to have an affair with Sheppard’s wife. Evelyn had thought it was hilarious, but that effort had branded Bailey as a special breed of pond scum in Sheppard’s mind. Sheppard secretly suspected Ray Calhoun had picked the Belleau Wood as his flagship just to keep a watchful eye on Bailey’s every move. After all, the nation was at war, and the Belleau Wood was a critical part of the fleet that remained operational after Pearl Harbor.

  Sheppard followed the admiral into the wardroom, where all the senior officers of the task force had assembled. Charts of the North Atlantic, Mediterranean, and west coast of Africa hung on the forward bulkhead. As Sheppard sat, an officer’s steward appeared and offered him a cup of coffee, which he gladly accepted.

  Two commanders in aviation greens approached Sheppard. The leader was not that tall, though he was lean, with striking blue eyes. He had the air of a man who thoroughly knew every detail of his profession. The second commander was shorter and stockier; he had brown hair with a slight tinge of red and seemed too willing for the other to lead.

  “Captain, please don’t get up. My name is Bob Talbot. They call me ‘Hawk’; I’m Sabine’s CAG. May I introduce Patrick Hernandez, Raritan’s CAG,” he said, referring to the shorter officer. “He goes by ‘Irish.’”

  Aviators! Sheppard thought. They all have to have their unique nicknames. Why can’t they just be like the rest of the Navy? But at least these two commanders were respectful.

  “Pleased to meet you. I’m Sheppard McCloud.”

  “We know,” Hawk said. “We’ve heard of you. My brother was wounded at Pearl and wrote me about how you took on the Japanese single-handed. I just wanted to say thank you.”

  Suddenly, one of the destroyer captains in the back of the wardroom shouted, “Attention on deck!” and Admiral Hamilton entered with his staff. Sheppard knew Hamilton, only by reputation, as a no-nonsense aviator. Tall and lean, Hamilton had proven his seamanship weathering a typhoon while in command of the carrier United States.

  The admiral frowned, quickly commanding, “As you were!”

  Sheppard was glad. His leg was not going to stand for rapid up-and-down movement. At the word, Hawk and Irish hustled off to the back of the wardroom, where the junior commanders were sitting.

  “Gentleman,” the admiral said as the wardroom clock struck four bells, “I trust you have all had a chance to meet each other and swap lies, but for those of you who may not have served in the Pacific recently, let me introduce Captain Sheppard McCloud,”—Sheppard almost choked on his coffee—“former commanding officer of the Shenandoah. His action engaging the Japanese striking force at Pearl Harbor was truly courageous.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Sheppard could see Bailey squirming in his chair. As much as he hated being singled out by the admiral, Sheppard secretly reveled in Bailey’s jealousy.

  “The damage that he inflicted was the only real retaliation the United States managed to achieve on that ‘Day of Infamy,’” Hamilton said. “The fact that he achieved anything in the face of overwhelming odds was exceptional. The additional fact that he brought Shenandoah back despite severe damage was even more remarkable and a testament to his leadership and foresight in training his crew. I am delighted that he has recovered from his wounds and will be with us in command of Argonne.”

  Sheppard blushed as his fellow officers stood, clapped, and offered their congratulations. This was an unexpected honor, and he wished he could share the moment with the families of the one hundred eighty-seven men of his crew who had paid the ultimate price. It might have eased their grief more than the simple letters he had written while on convalescent leave.

  “Now,” Hamilton continued, “for the task we’ve been assigned. I assume you are all familiar with the recent events of the war in Europe: Hitler’s failed attempt to invade Great Britain and the huge sacrifices required of the Royal Navy to limit the landings in the face of the Luftwaffe. You are probably not aware that in conjunction with the attempt, Vice Admiral Schröder broke into the Atlantic with a force of two carriers, four battle cruisers, six scout cruisers, and a dozen destroyers. Before turning east, making for the port of Brest, they managed to sink Admiral Tovey’s shadowing cruisers and devastate a convoy bound for England with critical war material. Luckily, the Fleet Air Arm inflicted some damage to the heavy units before they reached the safety of France. Most of those units have since completed repairs. The two German carrier air groups, operating from French airfields, have prevented further RAF attacks.

  “The Brits are still trying to guard against additional breakouts as well as keep enough force to defeat Admiral Lütjens if he decides to seek a fleet engagement in the North Sea. Since they overran France, the Germans have been refitting the French units they captured for incorporation into the Kriegsmarine. Fortunately for us, the work mostly occurs in France. The French Resistance is both sabotaging the effort and keeping us abreast of progress. For their efforts, they are paying a heavy price; the Gestapo is rounding up suspects, and our sources of information are drying up.”

  Sheppard subconsciously hardened his facial muscles, his lips forming a thin line. This was all news to him, having just come from the Pacific.

  Hamilton went on, “The newspapers have recently been reporting that there is heavy fighting between General Ritchie’s Eighth Army and General Rommel’s Afrika Korps. What you do not know is that Ritchie suffered a defeat, falling back to the east bank of the Suez at the direction of General Auchinleck, using that barrier to hold Palestine. If he is unsuccessful, it is likely that Turkey will enter the war as an Axis partner.”

  A low murmur of surprise and concern rose from the assembled officers.

  Raising his voice to quiet the wardroom, Hamilton continued, “The British Mediterranean Fleet under Admiral Cunningham transitted the Suez Canal, just before the loss of Alexandria, to bases at Trincomalee and Aden. Churchill and the First Lord of the Admiralty have yet to decide whether
Cunningham’s fleet is to round the Cape of Good Hope and operate in the Atlantic or remain in the Indian Ocean trying to halt the Japanese advance on the Indian subcontinent. It appears that General Rommel is turning the bulk of his forces westward, leaving the defense of Egypt to the Italian army.”

  Turning to face the chart of the Mediterranean and African west coast, Hamilton swept his hand across Tunisia, Algeria, French Morocco, Mauritania, and Senegal.

  “Intelligence estimates that the Germans are planning to take the French North and West African colonies as additional bases for the Kriegsmarine, outside the range of the Royal Air Force.”

  As Admiral Hamilton’s words sank in, it was becoming clear to Sheppard that he was going to be in the Atlantic for some time. His revenge for Shenandoah’s dead would have to wait.

  Hamilton paused, dropping his gold-braided arm from the chart of the west coast of Africa, looking dejected.

  “There is precious little to stop them!”

  Not a man in the wardroom of the Sabine stirred. Not a sound could be heard. It was clear that the Allies could soon be in an untenable strategic position.

  “I am sure you are also not aware of the desperate state of the British. They’re stretched to the limit. If Schröder breaks out of Brest, and we lose contact with him, there is no telling where he will go. The only thing we can be sure of is his objective: to raid the convoys. Any disruption and Great Britain will quickly run out of oil and gasoline. Food supplies are critically low, the population on subsistence rations. Even if only a few convoys are lost, Churchill will have no choice but to sue for peace. We are making contingency plans to move the British monarchy and the remnants of the Royal Navy to Puerto Rico. Perhaps then the British colonies will stay in the war.”

  Another low murmuring spread throughout the wardroom. It was becoming clear that Hitler’s declaration of war against the United States was not simply his latest lunatic move but rather a logical step toward world domination by the Axis. If the US Atlantic Fleet focused on containing the Kriegsmarine too long, the Japanese would have a free hand in Asia, with the likely loss of Australia, New Zealand, and China. There was just not enough time to repair all the damage caused to the Pacific Fleet at Pearl. If the Allies lost those countries, Germany, operating in conjunction with the Japanese, could attack and defeat the Soviet Union. The Axis powers would not only own Europe and North Africa but Asia as well.

  “Our task is simple,” Hamilton shouted over the murmuring. “We must stop Schröder! God help us if he escapes into the Atlantic!

  “My staff has a Top Secret package for each of you, containing detailed instructions for the operation.”

  Hamilton stiffened, his jaw set and his eyes ablaze with determination.

  Sheppard knew that in Hamilton’s chest beat the heart of a warrior, but he wondered: did he understand how little his carriers could do against Schröder’s heavy ships?

  A second later, Hamilton stepped toward the group of officers, his fists balled and voice rising in crescendo. “We sail in the morning!”

  Abruptly, the admiral strode out of the Sabine’s wardroom, customary courtesies neglected. Everyone remained seated, too stunned to rise. What Sheppard had thought would be a routine operation was not routine at all—but rather one of vital strategic importance. He and Admiral Calhoun caught each other’s eyes. In an instant, Sheppard knew it was not fortuitous timing that had landed him in command of Argonne. He had been picked! If Schröder was going to be stopped, Ray Calhoun and Sheppard were the ones who would have to do it.

  Remembering their manners, Captain Jake Evans and the other officers of the flagship Sabine waited for Admiral Calhoun and Bailey to lead Sheppard out of the wardroom. Sheppard had known of Jake since the time that, as a young officer, Evans had won a Cleveland air race, reclaiming the Collier Trophy for the Navy. A distinguished flyer, Jake had gotten too senior to command a flying unit and was now serving in command at sea before what Sheppard surmised would be his inevitable selection for flag rank.

  It was almost easy for Sheppard to retrace his steps to the Sabine’s aft starboard boat pocket. He came to attention and saluted as Admiral Calhoun received the required six side boys. The boatswain’s pipe shrilled the Over the Side as the Sabine’s 1MC blared, “Battle Cruiser Squadron Six departing!” Since Bailey was riding in the admiral’s barge, as the junior officer, he was required to board first. Whether by accident or design, he only received a perfunctory “Belleau Wood departing!” Sheppard smiled at the insult, musing that, somehow, sailors always knew.

  Sheppard endured his own ceremony, not wishing to compound the fluster of the Sabine’s Officer of the Deck at muffing a ceremony while trying to keep all the ships and COs straight in seniority with the sequencing of their gigs. Cruz departed with his usual choice of speed. However, he had arranged a more intricate synchronized routine for the two boathooks, wordlessly impressing any observers near the flagship as they raced back to the Argonne.

  From high up in the shadows of the overhead, standing on the starboard wing of the flag bridge in the Sabine’s island superstructure with his chief of staff, Captain Henry Burke, Admiral Hamilton watched all the departures.

  “You know, Henry,” the admiral mused, “there is only one of them that I am certain will give a good account of himself and his ship in battle.”

  “I understand, sir. We were fortunate that the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery caved in to Admiral Ingersoll’s demand for McCloud’s assignment to command the Argonne. I understand he could only come up the accommodation ladder one step at a time.”

  “Yeah, Henry, he really needed another month or two to heal that leg, but Evelyn McCloud told Cindy Trotter that he was going nuts at home and should get back to sea. Well, she got her wish.”

  Chapter 2

  Forging a Team

  What were Calhoun’s plans for fighting the forces that Argonne and Belleau Wood would confront? Sheppard wished he’d had time to talk to the admiral before departing. But like every other captain, he had to begin preparations for getting underway as well as to review the packet of Top Secret orders. He knew that the fighting odds between ships of equal capability in which the only difference was the number of ships each side had was not a straight numerical ratio. Fredrick W. Lanchester’s equations proved that if the ships were equal, then the odds for or against were actually the square of the numerical ratio. The brutal truth now confronting Sheppard was that if Schröder had four battle cruisers to Hamilton’s two, the fighting odds were actually sixteen to four—four to one against the Americans. Their only hope would be that Hamilton’s carriers could even the odds before Argonne and Belleau Wood engaged Schröder’s heavy ships.

  Lost in thought, Sheppard did not even notice when Cruz suddenly backed full for the landing. He looked up only when he saw the two seamen of his gig’s crew attaching a lifting bridle to the ring bolts fore and aft on the gig.

  Apparently recognizing the perplexed look on Sheppard’s face, Cruz smiled. “Don’t worry, Capt’n; I arranged things to be a little easier on your leg this trip.”

  With that, the gig magically rose at the end of a cable from the Argonne’s aircraft and boat crane. High above the main deck, the gig swung over the yawning mouth of the hangar and lowered to nest securely inside one of the fifty-foot launches. The bridle was unhooked as a ladder thudded up against the gig’s gunwale.

  Carefully descending the ladder to the hangar’s deck, Sheppard had his first view of this cavernous space in Argonne’s stern, as well as the ship’s boats and six OS2U-5 Kingfisher spotter planes stowed within. All had their wings folded or removed and stored on the bulkheads, making more room for handling the ship’s boats in port. With the two aircraft resting on the catapults, he had twice the number of air assets that he’d had with the Shenandoah.