To Sail a Darkling Sea

CHAPTER 17

“The Royal Netherlands Liner P/V Saga of Amsterdam is officially clear,” Captain Wilkes said. “Two hundred and fifty-six survivors, mostly crew and, as usual, mostly associated with food services or housekeeping.”

“Can we use them?” Steve asked, looking at Isham.

“Nine engineering or maintenance personnel,” Isham said. “They’re all onboard with working in those areas. Three passengers with significant boating or yachting experience who are in good enough mental condition to take a small boat. One is a master mariner. I’ve told her we’re going to save her for something that needs her skill. The rest are the usual odds and sods. Some of them are still getting their heads together but I figure most of them will pitch in. Nine that are pretty much round the bend. That’s starting to be a problem. We’ve got forty people in that sort of condition and there’s not much we can do with them except lock ’em in a cabin. Which freaks them the fuck out. The support people are mostly Indonesian. Some of them are already working in cleaning crews finishing up on the Boadicea and the couple of boats we’ve pulled in and hadn’t cleaned up.”

“We’ll take the next one down the line,” Steve said. “Did you intentionally finish clearing just in time for the birthday of the Marine Corps, Captain?”

“Let’s say it put a little relish in the hotdog, sir,” Wilkes said, grinning. “I told the guys I couldn’t promise them a day off if they finished by the ninth but I could try to swing it.”

“Do you want it off the day of or the day after?” Steve asked.

“Short day doing initial reconnaissance on the Tenth, sir,” Wilkes said. “Stop operations at sixteen-thirty. Then the day after off.”

“I can live with that,” Steve said.

“We believe we can increase the pace on the next one, sir,” Wilkes said. “If we can get some logistics support.”

“Define,” Steve said.

“Lieutenant?” Wilkes said, turning to Faith.

“The guys can carry their assault packs on clearance, sir,” Faith said. “But they clock out on rounds, anyway. We’re averaging about nine rounds per infected. We need to get that down, but that’s where we’re at. That means that the assault pack and basic load only allows sixty kills.”

“I hadn’t done that math,” Steve said, nodding.

“Nine rounds is really phenomenal, sir,” Wilkes pointed out. “The average in Iraq was six thousand rounds per stepped on kill.”

“Six thousand?” Isham said. “You have got to be joking!”

“It was sixty thousand in the Korean War,” Steve said. “Lots of use of machine guns. Different situation. So, only sixty infected per Marine per reasonable load. And the answer is?”

“We have spare magazines, sir,” Faith said. “We pretty much brought every mag we could find on the Iwo. If we could get support in having spares loaded and moved forward, the Marines wouldn’t have to go all the way back to the entry area then reload their mags. The trip sometimes takes ten minutes and reloads take up to thirty. That’s nearly an hour all around. They’re not bitching about that, they just sort of think that’s what you do. We discussed this with the Gunny and he thinks we’re coddling them, but it would just make clearance more efficient.”

“Loading and moving are two different things,” Steve said. “I can see finding people to load… Jack?”

“That we can find people for,” Isham said, cautiously. “Carrying it through the ship? That’s going to be tougher.”

“My gunners would do it,” Lieutenant Chen said. “My shooters are really chomping at the bit.”

“I’ve got an alternate, there, I was going to bring up,” Steve said. “We’ve got weapons. Put out the usual recruiting call. See how many people we can scrounge up. Put some sort of bennie on it. If we can do it, we’ll do it. At the very least, we’ll get the mags loaded which is a big part of the time. Okay, next point.

“Littoral Clearance Divisions one and two: Your boats, as you just noted, are being under utilized in this operation. We really don’t need the gunboats to hold the pier since it’s blocked and we’re detached from it, anyway. So I’m going to send you out on light town clearance, again. But sans Marines. You’ll have to decide if you want to send people ashore or not. Overall command will be Lieutenant Chen. Chen: One of your gunners is a former soldier, isn’t he?”

“Gunner’s Mate Mcgarity, sir,” Chen said.

“Is he familiar with medium machine guns?” Steve asked. “I don’t think that if you go ashore you should be under gunned.”

“Landings are sort of a Marine thing, sir,” Captain Wilkes said.

“The majority of landing parties, historically, were Navy, Captain,” Steve said. “The Marine Corps did not really start to study large-scale over-beach landings until the 1930s. Most of the force that took Tripoli were Navy sailors. And if I’ve got a choice of Marines clearing small towns and sailors fighting through the bowels of a ship or vice versa, guess which way I’m going to decide?”

“Point, sir,” Wilkes said. “No offense.”

“I’d thought about it, Captain,” Steve said, waving. “And Mcgarity, at least, is really a soldier.”

“Tanker, sir,” Lieutenant Chen pointed out. “But he trained on foot patrolling for a deployment to Afghanistan. And some of the other gunners are more than willing. They sort of enjoyed going ashore in La Puntilla and La Playa. Some stayed onboard, of course. Could I make joining the teams voluntary?”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with discipline,” Steve said. “Just cruise down the coast and clear the towns as you come to them and they look good. I hope I don’t have to warn you to watch the rocks and shoals. Bring spare prize crews with you who can pick up any useful looking boats. I want a lot of boats for the Atlantic crossing. The more boats we have, the more footprint we have for finding survivors at sea. Clear the towns if you think it’s worthwhile.”

“Yes, sir,” Chen said.

“You’re going to have to mostly resupply on your own,” Steve said. “If you run low on ammo, we can run some down to you. But other than that, independent command. Run with it.”

“Yes, sir,” Chen said.

“Jack, we’ve got more gunboats in preparation, right?” Steve said.

“Two more are undergoing renovation right now,” Isham said. “And we’ve got four yachts that are ready for sea. We’re running low on people who know how to run them.”

“Lieutenant Kuzma,” Steve said. “Start a class on basic boat operation. No more than three days. If they can drive it without hitting the sides of the harbor, use the radio more or less and put out a fire, they’re good.”

“You’re serious?” Kuzma said, wincing. “For an Atlantic crossing?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said. “And the big class is on how to unrep at sea.”

“Oh, God, sir,” Chen said, covering his face with his hands.

“One boat can cover, at most, a ten mile radius for search and rescue,” Steve said, seriously. “Counting the small yachts we have, what, fourteen?”

“Yeah,” Isham said.

“That’s, only a two-hundred-eighty-mile footprint,” Steve said. “A hundred and forty boats gives us a twenty-eight-hundred-mile footprint.”

“That is a point,” Kuzma said. “And a lot more ships that have to be cleared.”

“We’ll take the already experienced people and put them in a follow-on squadron or squadrons,” Steve said. “With Marine boarding parties and prize and salvage crews. See if we can find another boat like the Pit Stop to shuttle supplies forward to the main flotilla.”

“You know the sort of people who will sign up for that are the sort of people we need for everything else, right?” Isham said, shaking his head. “We only have so many people.”

“They have to have done a scut job, first,” Steve said. “Cleaning up gear, cleaning compartments, what have you. But if they can read a map, use a radio and sort of not hit stuff, we need the boats.”

“And… ” Isham said. “Steve, look, I’m up to my eyeballs in work already. You want to bump up the number of small boats? I mean times ten? You got any clue how much logistics that is?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “Need a hand?”

“Oh, hell, yeah!” Isham said. “You see my enormous staff, right?”

“First of all, if you’ve got numbers to crunch, toss it to the boats,” Steve said. “By which I mean the subs. And speaking of looking for craft, that’s a group that’s going to start being more actively involved. At a certain level, if it’s not in an AO we can effect, I’d rather just not know. But they’ll sweep one wing of the movement. They’ve got sonar, radar and people who will actually maintain a watch. They can’t interact but they can spot. One flotilla of fast response boats with them.”

“Suggestion, sir,” Chen said.

“Always,” Steve said. “Please.”

“Cigarette boats,” Chen said. “Based around one of the megayachts. Something needs to be cleared, the teams head out on those.”

“They use gas, right?” Isham said.

“Yes,” Chen said.

“So now I gotta not only find gas, but have a way to carry it,” Isham said. “Thanks, Zack.”

“Glad to be a buddy, Jack,” Isham said, grinning. “You can pump the diesel out of one of the tanks on the megas.”

“They’ve got a spare gas tank, anyway,” Wilkes said. “And an av gas tank. Speaking of which, you can spot stuff really well with a helo. Hinta, hinta, Captain.”

“Qualified on a Lynx?” Steve asked.

“Does it have a Dash one, sir?” Wilkes said.

“Are your airframe mechanics qualified on getting it up and running?” Steve asked. “We got parts? Thing’s been sitting as deck cargo in storms for six months, Captain.”

“Point, sir,” Wilkes said, shrugging.

“We’ll put that on the to-do list on the crossing,” Steve said. “At least get it surveyed. If it’s working, do you think it would make an okay trainer?”

“Want to learn to fly a chopper, sir?” Wilkes said.

“We’re going to need a buttload of chopper pilots at some point, Captain,” Steve said. “And airframe mechanics and all the rest. After we clear Gitmo, you’ll definitely be turning in the rifle to start working on that program. But that’s for later. Lieutenant Chen’s concept has merit. So, Chen, look for fast ocean going boats with range as well. And, yes, some source of gasoline for them.”

“Tools, parts, fittings… ” Isham said. “Seriously, Captain, I’m going to need some help, here.”

“I’ll find you some,” Steve said.

“I could really use… ” He paused and frowned and looked at Faith for a second. “You know, Zumwald is an asshole and I know he’s on your shit list. But he’s really underutilized.”

“I kind of like that he’s in charge of cleaning our gear,” Faith said. “Serve him right. Sir.”

“Your point is worth considering,” Steve said. “Okay, Marine Corps Ball, continue clearance on Sierra Two. USCG personnel to shift to classes on small boat operations for available personnel. LitClear to go, well, LitClear and collect said vessels. Work on an expansion plan for an unknown number of small boats. Chen, you’ve got about ten days, tops. All clearance to be complete by last week of November. We pull out November 20th. All clear?”

“Got it, sir,” Isham said. “And get me some more staff.”

“I’ll work on that,” Steve said.

CHAPTER 18

Freedom is not free, but the U.S. Marine Corps will pay most of your share.

Ned Dolan

“I’m totally freaking out!” Faith said, adjusting her uniform as she approached the doors to the ballroom. She’d been informed as the “junior Marine” she had to give the toast and was, therefore, required to be in uniform. Her beautiful dress was relegated to the closet. Worse, all she had was MarCam.

“You’ll be fine,” Olga said.

“Easy for you to say!” Faith said. “You get to wear girl clothes!”

“Take a deep breath,” Olga said, hand on the door. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Faith said.

* * *

“Do you think you could increase your father’s knowledge base, Lieutenant?” Steve said at breakfast the next morning.

“I’ll try, Da,” Faith said, holding her hand up to her face. She was wearing oversized glasses and make-up which was unusual to say the least. And she didn’t seem to want to move her hand away from the left side of her face.

“Is there a reason that the Gunnery Sergeant is sporting one hell of a shiner?” Steve asked.

“What happens at the Ball, stays at the Ball, Da,” Faith said, chewing carefully…