Dust on the Sea by Edward L. Beach Page B

the plotters’ difficulties. Lack of previous study of the enemy’s movements would prevent them from detecting an unexpected zig until some time afterward, if at all. A large zig away would put the submarine far astern, with a long chase or loss of the opportunity inevitable. A zig toward might put the submarine suddenly dead ahead of the enemy—which usually had one escort out in front—in a bow-to-bow situation with a closing rate equal to the sum of the speeds. This was the most serious of all the contingencies. A surface attack was no longer possible; discovery and counterattack were virtually certain.
    It was a matter of individual submarine tactics, professional expertise. Because of the large divergence in views the subject was tacitly avoided in Blunt’s presence, but several times, until it became an incipient cause of acrimony, Rich brought a more general discussion between the three skippers around to this topic. In desperation, and against his better judgment, he finally began to extole his own procedures, which were to track at about seven miles’ distance, and a little ahead of the beam, until all the variables had been as well determined as could be. Then, immediately after the convoy had settled upon afavorable zig course, so that there would be several minutes before the next zig, he would turn in for a deliberate, calculated attack. An inestimable benefit Rich saw in his method was that anything out of the ordinary on the part of the target would instantly be detected by plot, for by this time the plotters would have nothing else to worry about.
    But there was no convincing Les Hartly. And he roundly condemned Eel ’s extra torpedoes and the second five-inch gun.
    Whitey Everett, the new skipper of Whitefish , must have been assigned that particular submarine by someone with a sense of humor. The nickname had been bestowed years ago for his extraordinarily blond hair, now shading into premature gray. The Whitefish was a relatively old submarine, having been completed at the Electric Boat Company yards in Groton, Connecticut, only a couple of months after the Walrus . Rich and Keith had watched her launched and had known many of her original crew.
    She was essentially a carbon copy of Walrus , with slightly greater austerity in her interior appointments because, unlike the Walrus , her construction had been ordered after the war began. Everett, a year senior to Richardson, was in fact her third skipper. This was to be his first command patrol. Slow-moving, taciturn, he had early developed a reputation for wisdom. He had been executive officer of a fleet submarine at the beginning of the war, but had then spent some time in New London as skipper of one of the training boats. Subsequently he had returned to the Pacific for a “make-ye-learn” cruise as a prospective commanding officer—a “PCO”—and now, somewhat to his chagrin, had drawn the Whitefish instead of one of the newer, heavier-built submarines like Eel or Chicolar .
    Whitey had never participated in a night attack on the surface, Rich quickly realized. Perhaps the aura of deliberateness which he had so long cultivated actually masked inner insecurity. Despite all the theory he had been subjected to and all the discussions he had engaged in, he really had no confidence in his ability to engage in a high speed night action. Patently, he felt most comfortable submerged. On the game floor, whenever the choice was left to him, he elected to attack submerged at daybreak, having used up the whole night waiting for this single opportunity.
    The gaming sessions were made as realistic as possible. Each of the three subs was given its own headquarters, with charts, navigation tools, and encoding equipment, and was permitted to communicate with the other submarines only by simulated radio messages. All messages were required to be in the special submarine attack code which Richand Keith had devised, and no