Thunder in the Morning Calm (16 page)

BOOK: Thunder in the Morning Calm
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C
ome on, Robert! Breathe!” Keith yelled, as he pulled his mouth away, exhaled, then blew back into Robert’s mouth, trying desperately to get air into his lungs.

Inhale.

Exhale. Chest rising. Chest dropping.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Chest rising. Chest dropping.

“Keith.” Frank tapped him on the shoulder.

Keith heard Frank’s voice, as if it was far away. He ignored it. He wasn’t going to surrender. Running through his mind were the words:
Marines don’t abandon Marines
.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Chest rising. Chest dropping.

“Keith.” Another gentle tap on the shoulder.

“Shut up, Frank! I’m not giving up! He’s a Marine!”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Chest rising. Chest dropping.

“Keith, I’m sorry. It’s over.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Chest rising. Chest dropping.

No pulse.

“Keith, stop. He knew you would’ve given your life for him. Come on, it’s over. He’s gone.”

“Noooooo!” Keith pushed himself to his feet. “Not Robert! Noooooo!”

He picked up the metal pan with water and slung it at the barred window.

Clang-a-lang-a-lang.

“Noooooo!”

The metal trash can. Near the door. He rushed at it and kicked it across the concrete floor.

“No! No! Nooooo!”

Another kick of the trash can.

“You’ve got to get hold of yourself, Keith!”

F
iring squad. Ready!” Colonel Song Kwang-sun’s commanding voice echoed across the courtyard.

“Firing squad, aim!” In sharp precision, three rifles clacked to the shoulders of the firing squad, their barrels aimed at Pak, roped to the tree.

Clang-a-lang-a-lang.

Colonel Song looked off to his left. “What is that noise?”

“It sounds like it is coming from the barracks, Colonel,” his assistant said.

“It sounds like a riot in there.”

“But from old men?” Kang said.

“Firing squad, stand down!”

“But, Colonel,” Kang said, “we could finish the execution first.”

“I said, stand down!”

The men lowered their rifles.

“Chung, go check out the situation in the barracks.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Chung slung his rifle over his shoulder and jogged over to the barracks. He opened the door and walked in. “What is going on in here?”

Silence.

Moments later, Chung walked back out and yelled, “One of the prisoners has died, Colonel!”

“Which one?” the colonel yelled.

“The one who was sick!” Chung shouted back.

Silence. No one moved. The only sound was the sighing of the wind whipping through the trees as if in mourning for the old man.

Colonel Song sensed the stare of his mistress, and her words came back to him in a rush: “Using someone like her helps to make sure that they do not die on your watch … die on your watch …” He couldn’t look at her. He just couldn’t.

“We are prepared to proceed with the execution, my colonel,” Kang said. “We can bury the dead prisoner later. And, if you would like, we can
execute the one who was rioting in the barracks. I have a feeling I know which one it was! Sir!”

Colonel Song glanced at Mang Hyo-Sonn.

“The execution shall be postponed for thirty minutes —”

“But, Colonel,” Kang said.

“During which time … we shall secure the two remaining prisoners … to ensure that they do not interrupt the execution.”

“But Colonel,” Kang persisted. “We can secure the prisoners in five minutes. I will personally secure the prisoners if you would like to keep the remaining members of the firing squad in position.”

“Did you not understand my order, Staff Sergeant?” He stared at his very ambitious guard. “We will reconvene in thirty minutes. Do you understand me?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

USS
Harry S. Truman
the Yellow Sea

A
dmiral Hampton folded his arms and surveyed the scene of destruction in front of him. Powerful water gushed from high-pressure hoses onto the smoking hulks of the planes. The flames had subsided, but black smoke still plumed high into the sky. Water also poured onto the wreck of what moments ago had been a North Korean missile, destroyed by Phalanx fire just before it would have crashed into the ship.

The entire front section of the carrier had morphed from leaping hot flames to choking black smoke. For now, the fire teams were winning this battle. It would be some time before the flight deck was again operational. And that was a problem.

The
Truman
had survived. But the admiral knew that the ship’s defense system had failed. And he needed to find out just what had happened, what went wrong. Damage and injury reports were not all in yet.

He walked over to Captain Charles Harrison, who was issuing orders for the cleanup operations of his ship. “Skipper? Damage reports?”

“Lost two birds, Admiral,” the captain said. “RAM crew was wiped out on the flight deck when the missile exploded. Still unclear on how many men we have missing, but the number appears small. One man
overboard, but recovered. They’re bringing him back onboard now. Medical teams treating the wounded. No final count on fatalities. Once we finish hosing down the flight deck, we’ll get these planes bulldozed overboard. We’ll be back in the business of fighting a war within thirty minutes.”

Hampton checked his watch with a tinge of impatience. “I don’t want to push you, Captain, but as soon as you can turn the ship over to the XO for a few minutes, I need to see you and the CAG on the flag bridge. We’ve gotta get some answers as to what happened and why.”

Captain Harrison checked his watch and glanced out at the flight deck. “Actually, Admiral, this might be a good time to turn the ball over to the XO for a few.”

“Very well, Captain. Make the transition and put out a call for the CAG and my deputy intel officer to meet us on the flag bridge. We need information for Washington.”

“Aye, sir,” Captain Harrison said.

He turned to the ship’s number-two officer, Commander Rawlinson Petty, who was standing next to him. “XO, take the conn. And would you round up Garcia and Porter for me?”

“Aye, Skipper.” Commander Petty said. The executive officer stepped over and took a seat in the captain’s chair.

“After you, Admiral.” Captain Harrison pushed open the door of the bridge for Admiral Hampton. Captain Tony Farrow, Hampton’s chief of staff, followed the admiral.

“Attention on deck!” the two petty officers standing guard outside the bridge barked.

“Carry on,” Hampton said.

Admiral Hampton led the two captains down a passageway, then down a short set of stairs, past at least a half dozen young sailors who jumped to stiff attention as the trio passed, before finally arriving at the flag bridge.

Just then a voice boomed over the 1MC. “Captain Garcia, Lieutenant Porter, report to the flag bridge.”

“Attention on deck! Admiral’s on the flag bridge!” a navy lieutenant announced.

“Carry on,” Hampton said.

“CAG on the flag bridge,” the OOD said.

Hampton turned and nodded to Captain Mark “Maverick” Garcia, the CAG — the Carrier Air Group Commander.

“Admiral. Skipper,” Garcia said.

The flag bridge door opened again. But this time, the officer entering did not rate an announcement. Lieutenant Jim Porter, the junior intelligence officer, said, “Good afternoon, Admiral.”

“Well, it looks like we’re all here, gentlemen,” Hampton said. “Have a seat.”

Harrison and Garcia sat on a long sofa anchored to the bulkhead. Farrow sat in a chair beside the long sofa. Hampton sat in another chair on the other side of the sofa. Porter remained standing.

“Gentlemen, I want to know what the heck happened. We’ve just had an antiship missile crash-land on our flight deck. I have to explain this to Washington.”

The senior officers exchanged glances, as if uncertain who should start.

Harrison spoke up. “Admiral, as commanding officer of this ship, the burden for defending the ship is on my shoulders. So with your permission, sir, I’d like to start.”

Hampton nodded. “Go ahead, Captain.”

“Well, sir, the North Koreans slipped a missile through our missile-defense screen. Two missiles were fired. USS
Lake Erie
engaged the missiles with interceptors and took one out. The other got through.”

“SM-3s?” Hampton asked.

“Yes, sir.
Lake Erie
tried taking them out with SM-3s. Word from Captain Bennett, the CO of
Lake Erie
, is that one of the SM-3s failed to detonate.”

“Mmm. I’ve never trusted the reliability of the SM-3s,” Hampton said. “Guess this proves it.”

“Once
Lake Erie
informed us that the missile slipped through,” Harrison said, “we threw everything we had at it. The forward port Phalanx clipped it and blew it up, or it would have been a lot worse.”

There was a pause.

“What kind of a missile was it?”

No answer.

“Lieutenant Porter?” Hampton said. “Intel’s your department. You got anything on North Korean antiship missiles?”

The junior intel officer twitched and cleared his throat. “Well, sir, Commander McCormick had put together a file on North Korean missiles before he left, and I brought that up in case you asked about it …” He paused and fiddled with some papers in an accordion file.

“Dang straight I’m asking about it,” Hampton snapped. “Come on, son, I don’t have all day.”

“Sorry, sir,” Porter said, as he pulled a memo out of the file. “Here it is.” He sounded relieved. “Commander McCormick in his memo indicates that any missiles fired from North Korea are probably either Chinese-made CSSC-3 Seersuckers or KN-01s, which are a North Korean – enhanced version of the Seersucker.”

“What’s the range on these missiles?” Hampton said.

“Uh …” — he read the memo — “up to 161 kilometers, or 100 miles, sir.”

Hampton shook his head. “Captain Farrow, let’s get the chart up. I want to have a look at our current position and the position of our battle group.”

“Aye, sir,” his chief of staff said, then nodded at the officer of the watch. “Lieutenant? Chart, please.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

A second later, the lieutenant wheeled a chart out on an easel.

“Captain Harrison, please brief us on our current position and the position of the ships in the group.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“This chart marks the current position of the surface ships in the strike force. The carrier is represented by the star symbol in the middle. Now as you can see, we have seven ships positioned around the
Truman
to defend the carrier from missile and torpedo attack.

“Our heavy cruisers
Lake Erie
and
Hue City
, the biggest of our missile-defense ships, are represented by the two deltas, out to port and starboard of the carrier. The destroyers and frigates out on the perimeter are represented by lightning bolts.

“The ships, arrayed around the carrier in a circular position, in theory give us equal level of firepower against incoming missiles from any direction.

“Notice our current position. We are operating in the narrowest
part of the Yellow Sea. Out to the west, approximately fifty miles, is this finger of land, Cape Chengshan, in China.” The captain tapped the chart. “As you can see, the USS
Hue City
is operating between our current position and Cape Chengshan.

Navy warships, positions in Yellow Sea, Korea Bay

 

“Out to the east, about seventy miles, is the North Korean province of South Wanghae. We are approximately seventy miles from the westernmost tip of the province, which is here.” He tapped the chart again. “USS
Lake Erie
has been buffering us to the east.
Lake Erie
’s job was to take those missiles out. And, as you know, she took out one of them.

“East of
Lake Erie
the USS
Oscar Austin
is moving into place to provide an additional screen against future missile attacks from Korea.
Austin
was south of this position when those missiles were launched and is not quite on station where we’re showing her on this chart.”

“So we’re moving
Austin
into place with
Lake Erie
to provide additional ABM assistance, but she’s not actually in place yet?” Hampton asked.

“Yes, sir, Admiral. That is correct. The skipper of
Lake Erie
radioed the skipper of
Oscar Austin
right after that missile got by, requesting emergency assistance, and the skipper of
Oscar Austin
set a course to the northeast to provide the additional missile screen. He also sent a flash message asking approval for the movement.”

Captain Farrow, the admiral’s chief of staff, said, “We got a top-secret flash message from both captains requesting your approval for repositioning of
Oscar Austin
to flank
Lake Erie.
I hadn’t had a chance to present it to you yet because of all the chaos.”

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