Authors: John Geoghegan
Tags: #Non-Fiction, #History
Operation Storm: Japan's Top Secret Submarines and Its Plan to Change the Course of World War II (27 page)
Careful not to make a mistake, he slowly worked his sub toward the surface. His timidity only convinced his classmates that he was inept, and they ribbed him all the harder. It was a while before Horgan brought his sub to periscope depth. When he did, his instructor was impressed. Grace under pressure was a highly valued quality in a sub officer and Horgan hadn’t cracked despite his classmates’ abuse. Later, when Horgan graduated from sub school, the same instructor asked what assignment he’d gotten.
“Relief corps,” Horgan said, disappointed.
“What did you want?”
“Combat sub.”
Nothing more was said. When Horgan arrived at Majuro, he moved to the head of the line and was assigned to the
Segundo
.
12
Fulp’s sub left for Saipan on November 16, 1944. After topping off his fuel tanks, Fulp joined a three-sub wolf pack called “Roy’s Rangers.”
13
The pack, which was led by the USS
Trepang
(SS 412) and included the USS
Razorback
(SS 394), had orders to prevent Japanese reinforcements from reaching the Philippines. When the
Segundo
arrived on station December 1, she immediately began patrolling the Luzon Strait.
14
Fulp’s luck was better this time, but not by much. He had multiple ship contacts in the early part of his patrol, but couldn’t launch an attack. December was typhoon season, which hampered his ability to operate. Every time the
Segundo
surfaced, she was swamped by heavy seas. It was difficult enough finding enemy targets, let alone launching torpedoes, in such conditions. Finally, on the evening of December 6, the
Trepang
spotted seven Japanese merchant ships with three escorts.
15
It was the biggest shooting gallery Fulp had ever seen.
The
Trepang
’s commander might have been called the “praying skipper” for his religious beliefs, but Fulp would be damned before a God-fearing zealot stole his glory. With high seas and an overcast sky, conditions were poor for a surface attack. Fulp chanced it anyway.
16
Hiding in front of Luzon’s dark background, Fulp crept along the surface. But as gale force winds whipped the sea into a frenzy, what had begun as an advantage soon turned against him.
17
Though Fulp managed to close the distance without being spotted, conditions were so rough, he worried they’d impede the accuracy of a surface-fired torpedo. He also had to be careful not to sink one of his own subs—always a danger when operating in close proximity.
Picking what appeared to be a troop transport, Fulp ordered the torpedo gyros set nearly at zero and launched six Mark 18s
from the
Segundo
’s bow tubes. Given the storm-tossed seas, it was a wonder the torpedoes ran true. A few minutes later the first of three fish slammed into the ship’s engine room. A massive eruption of water, flame, and molten metal leaped into the sky, followed by two more explosions. As the ship lay smoldering, her escort began circling like a calf around its wounded mother.
Fulp was confident the transport was disabled, so he took the opportunity to attack a second vessel. Using the cover of darkness, he wove between two escorts, one of which was only 400 yards away.
18
It was such an audacious move that Fulp’s officers were wide-eyed in disbelief. One of the defenders was the
Kuretake
. More than 20 years old, she wasn’t exactly a state-of-the-art destroyer.
19
But she was accompanied by the CH-33, a modern sub chaser.
20
Either ship could have had radar. Still, Fulp was undeterred.
21
After dashing through the defense perimeter, Fulp ordered engines to one-third to give the torpedo room time to reload. When all six tubes were ready, he maneuvered into firing position.
Most subs fire from a range of 1,800 to 2,000 yards. But Fulp had had such bad experience with navy torpedoes, he didn’t trust them. He’d fired 11 Mark 14s on the
Sargo
’s first war patrol, some at point-blank range, and none had detonated. Torpedo failure had plagued the sub’s next six war patrols. Now Fulp had his chance to make up the misses.
While Fulp conducted his attack approach from the bridge, Ens. Rod Johnson operated the torpedo data computer (TDC) in the conning tower. The TDC performed the trigonometric calculations necessary to compute a target intercept course for a torpedo. Inputs for the primitive computer included the enemy’s range, speed, and bearing relative to the
Segundo
. Once the calculations were complete, the TDC estimated a moving target’s constantly changing position and provided the correct angle settings for a torpedo’s gyroscope.
Johnson hadn’t had much experience in the conning tower and was probably cautious working with Fulp. He had a good idea though of what a comfortable distance for an attack was. An overcast night might have been ideal for up close and personal fighting,
but once the
Segundo
closed to within 1,800 yards, Johnson’s confidence began to slip.
“Fifteen hundred yards, captain.”
“Proceed,” Fulp replied.
“Thirteen hundred,” Johnson reported.
“Closer.”
“Twelve hundred.”
Johnson’s voice betrayed his concern. Fulp remained unmoved. As they passed the 1,000-yard mark, Johnson protested they were too near the target.
22
Fulp responded calmly: “We’re gonna get close enough to throw stones at ’em.”
Fulp finally fired at 900 yards. Keeping the spread small, he launched three torpedoes, at least two of which hit home.
23
The target wasn’t an ordinary freighter though; it was a giant Japanese ammunition ship.
The first explosion was so powerful, it knocked the
Segundo
’s chief torpedoman out of the conning tower and into the control room.
24
When wreckage began raining down upon the sub, one of the lookouts panicked: “Oh my God, they’re firing at us!”
25
But the ship wasn’t returning fire. It was too busy disintegrating.
The concussions were so immense, those on deck had to grab the railing to keep from falling. When the heat wave reached their faces, it felt like their eyebrows were being singed.
Since water conducts sound faster than air, the experienced hands inside the sub knew what they were hearing. “Ammunition ship,” one remarked.
26
Seconds later the smell of cordite wafted through the bridge hatch.
27
As explosions consumed the ship, bright yellow flames lit up the night, and tracer ammo arced into the sky. Strangely, the ammunition ship continued plowing a path through the sea, even as she was being ripped apart.
28
Then in an instant she was gone.
A sub’s patrol report is not known for exaggeration, yet the
Segundo
’s entry states: “the quickest … most devastating explosion imaginable [tore the ship apart] … it just did not seem possible that anything could be obliterated so instantaneously.”
29
Indeed it was remarkable that so large a ship could vanish into thin air. Even the
Segundo
’s radar man had to look twice after a final massive explosion blew the ship to kingdom come. The only thing left was her outline burned into the lookouts’ retinas.
30
Fulp wasn’t finished, though. One of his torpedoes had hit another vessel, which was rapidly sinking.
31
A few minutes later she too was gone.
32
Fulp now returned to the first ship he’d hit, ablaze from stem to stern.
33
Before he could polish her off, however, the
Razorback
finished the job.
34
It was a disappointment for the
Segundo
’s fire control party,
35
even though the crew was pleased with the overall results. They’d sunk two, possibly three enemy vessels in one night. Success made them feel indomitable.
The next morning the
Segundo
was surrounded by wreckage.
36
It was hard to know for sure who had sunk which ship in all the confusion. In addition to sinking the ammo ship, it appeared the
Segundo
had holed both the
Yasukuni Maru
, a 5,794-ton freighter that was later abandoned, as well as the
Kenjo Maru
. Though the
Kuretake
managed to escape, she didn’t remain free for long. The
Razorback
sank her three weeks later,
37
while the
Segundo
continued on patrol.
A
COMBAT HIGH
pervaded the sub for several days. Though it eventually passed, one thing that didn’t let up was the weather. Typhoon might be just another name for a Pacific-born hurricane, but weather conditions made life impossible for Fulp and his crew. Come December 9, winds were running at eight on the twelve-point Beaufort scale, making it difficult for the
Segundo
to travel on the surface.
Wallace Karnes was in the control room when Fireman First Class G. H. Saunders arrived to relieve the last watch of the day. Karnes didn’t know Saunders well.
38
Like Horgan, he was a new recruit who’d come aboard at Majuro. He’d been with the
Segundo
less than 30 days.
It didn’t help that Saunders said so little. He might have seemed calm as he donned his foul weather gear, but Karnes was glad
he wasn’t the one going topside on such an ugly night. The crew was sick of being tossed around by the storm, and a bridge watch marred by gale force winds and heavy seas wasn’t anyone’s idea of a cakewalk. Saunders thanked Karnes after he finished dressing, and disappeared into the conning tower. Though there was no better experience than on-the-job training, the new guy was about to get a full dose.
When Saunders climbed out the bridge hatch, he was immediately drenched by spray. Even the heartiest sailor would have felt seasick on such a miserable night. It’s hard to imagine a new recruit feeling any different atop the periscope shears.
When the
Segundo
suddenly lurched to port two hours later,
39
the darkness made it impossible to see what was going on. A giant wave had broached the sub’s starboard side, tipping her over at a 35-degree angle. A lookout heard a cry,
40
and moments later Karnes heard a thud strike the hull.
41
An alarm sounded, and the engines stopped. A float light was thrown overboard.
The waves were so enormous, it was impossible to see where Saunders had gone. Fulp circled back, but all the search light illuminated besides good intentions was a driving rainstorm and mountainous seas.
42
Thirty-seven minutes later Fulp called off the search. It wouldn’t take long to attract enemy notice with their signal light blazing. Besides, finding a man in the middle of a typhoon was next to impossible, especially at night.
Nobody was sure what had happened. The lookouts had a bar to tie into while standing watch. Whether Saunders failed to hook in, or he accidentally unlocked himself, or his line failed was never reported. Whatever happened, Saunders was probably knocked out by his fall. Even if he was conscious, it wouldn’t have taken him long to drown in a typhoon.
Fulp held a short memorial service.
43
After reading from the Bible,
44
he asked for a moment of silence and hung his head in prayer.
45
Despite being stoical, Fulp felt an emptiness that night.
46
It was tough losing a crew member, nor could it have helped that Saunders was the
Segundo
’s first casualty. They had finally been blooded.
T
HE PATROL WAS
subdued after that. The weather remained so poor, lookouts were ordered to wear a whistle around their neck in case they fell overboard. When their watch finished, brandy was served to revive them.
An even more violent typhoon swept down unexpectedly on December 17. Sustained winds of 145 mph were recorded, with gusts up to 185.
47
The
Segundo
submerged during the worst part, but the ocean was so turbulent that Fulp had difficulty maintaining depth control.
48
Once the sea calmed around Christmas, everyone hoped to sink a Japanese warship, but the holidays brought an unpleasant surprise.
The seas were again running high on December 26, with 40-foot crests. Vic Horgan was resting in his bunk while the
Segundo
made 12 knots on the surface.
49
Feeling the ocean’s peaks and valleys, Horgan realized the sub was getting out of sync with the waves.
50
Moments later the
Segundo
plunged into the trough of an enormous roller. Before she could recover, a second wave broke over her sail, forcing water down the bridge hatch. So much saltwater poured through the main induction valve that the forward engine room was flooded, sweeping away a machinist’s mate struggling to close the valve. An avalanche of ocean also cascaded into the control room, knocking Wallace Karnes into the pump room, where he landed in three feet of freezing water.