ESCAPE ON THE DALE
A Prequel to "Assault on the Wayne" (1971)
Philip Kettenring, newly-promoted Commander of the USS "Richard Dale", was sitting at his desk at the Naval Base, trying hard to concentrate on the tedious reports necessary to the functioning of his submarine. He was not due to go off duty for another 3 hours - a time that at that moment seemed like an eternity for him. He had a splitting headache and his eyes did not seem to be able to focus on the page in front of him. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes to try to clear them. Suddenly his lean frame was wracked with an uncontrollable fit of shivering. His Navigator, Lieutenant Commander Skip Langley, chose just that moment to bring him in a cup of coffee. "Phil! Hey, what's wrong, Captain? You sick?"
Phil, his arms wrapped around him in an effort to subdue the shuddering, fought for control. "Looks like I'm ... coming down with ... a bout ... of 'flu." he gasped.
"I'll drive you to the Medical Officer." volunteered Skip. "Thanks Skip, but I'm not due off duty for ... another three hours."
The shuddering hit him again.
"You're in no fit state to be working - come on." and Skip led him towards his car.
---oo0oo---
The MO diagnosed a severe dose of 'flu and recommended three days in bed, with medication. Skip drove Phil home. Phil walked somewhat weakly up the drive to the flat allocated to him and his wife, Janice - he did not notice the car parked outside. Wearily, he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Sitting in the living room was his wife and a stranger. The man jumped up when he saw Phil and there was a look of shock on Janice's face.
"Phil!" she said. "You 're not due off-duty for another two hours !"
"Never mind that!" shouted Phil. Who the hell is this?"
"Phil, meet Peter Wilson - he's an electrician on base duty - there were a couple of things we needed done about the house, and he volunteered to do them for us."
"I'll bet he did!" sneered Phil. "You have no business in my house, Wilson, without my permission, and keeping company with my wife!"
"Phil," said Janice, "it's not like that at all!"
But Phil made a grab for Wilson and tried to push him out the front door.
"No, Phil, don't!" pleaded Janice, but Wilson, trying to protect himself, pushed the weakened Phil away from him. Phil could not keep his balance and fell, hitting his head against a coffee table. He lay unmoving.
"Peter, get out of here. I'll phone the CMO. Phil's not going to believe that I'm telling him the truth. Go on."
Alarmed, Wilson left the flat.
---oo0oo---
Phil was taken to the Base Hospital, where he gradually recovered from the concussion and apparent dose of 'flu. For the first two days he was not well enough to receive visitors, but on the third day he felt a bit better. Janice called at the Hospital to see her husband, but the Medical Officer in charge stopped her at the door. "I'm sorry, Mrs Kettenring, but he says he doesn't want to see you just now."
Janice's heart sank. "But I've got to see him, Doctor, there's something I must explain to him."
"I'm sorry, Mrs Kettenring, but he's quite adamant about it."
"All right, I'll come back tomorrow."
However, first thing the next morning, Phil had a visitor - Admiral Pearson. "Good morning, Captain Kettenring. I hope you're feeling better?"
Phil gave a somewhat weak smile, but said "Sure, Admiral, much better."
"Excellent. I have come to inform you of your next mission. As soon as the doctor passes you fit, you're to report to the USS 'Richard Dale'. An incident has occurred that needs immediate action, a mission of utmost secrecy and delicacy. Do you think you can handle it?"
"Of course, Sir. Can you tell me what it is?"
"Not at the moment, Kettenring. The doctor says he'll discharge you tomorrow morning. Report to me at 1200."
"Yes, Sir." and the Admiral was gone.
---oo0oo---
Meanwhile, Janice was trying to see her husband. "I'm sorry, Mrs Kettenring, but he's undergoing final tests prior to being discharged. I suggest you go home and he'll return there tomorrow morning."
Disappointed, Janice left the hospital.
---oo0oo---
However, on discharge the next morning, Phil did not return home before reporting to Admiral Pearson.
"Ah, Kettenring! Come in, sit down. Fully recovered, I trust?"
"Yes, thank you, Sir."
"Good. The 'Dale' is being prepared for immediate departure. I'm afraid there has been a serious diplomatic incident in Cuba. The American Vice-Consul has been kidnapped by guerrilla forces and is being held captive on a small island off the mainland. It is imperative that he be rescued, unharmed, and returned to America immediately, as he holds vital strategic information about the deployment of alien troops and equipment on the Cuban mainland.
I want you, along with six marines I'm allocating to the boat, to carry out the rescue. I have here the navigational co-ordinates for the island in question. I want it done quickly, under cover of night, of course, and preferably without casualties. Is that clear, Captain Kettenring?"
"Perfectly clear, Admiral."
"Very well. Your personal belongings have already been transferred to the 'Dale'. Please report there immediately. Dismissed." Phil saluted smartly and walked out of the door.
He made his way immediately to the submarine docks and to his boat.
His Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Dave Burston, whom he had worked with throughout his naval career, welcomed him aboard. Burston, a powerfully-built coloured man, had also recently gained promotion. Preparations for departure were almost completed and the hurriedly-assembled crew were all aboard. The 'Dale' had recently been re-fitted with top-secret sonar devices that Phil was to test while on the mission and, as the boat got under way, be went to his cabin to study the instruction manuals. There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" called Phil. A middle-aged, thick-set man with greying, curly hair entered. "Orville! So you're my Master-at-Arms! Great to see you - and you've got promotion again!" said Phil, indicating the insignia on the man's arm. "See that you keep it this time!"
"Oh, sure, Captain - it was just an oversight on my part the last time they took my rank away, it won't happen again!"
"See that it doesn't!" said Phil with a grin.
"Anything you want done just now, Captain?"
"Yes, order torpedo drill twice daily during the cruise and I want Captain Kravitz, the leader of the Marines, to report to me. Oh, and Orville, do you have a couple of asprin? I seem to have a bit of a headache, and I must concentrate on these manuals." Orville gave him two asprins, which he downed in one swallow, then left to carry out the rest of his Captain's orders.
A few moments later, Captain Kravitz presented himself to Phil. He was a powerfully-built six-footer, the same height as Phil, with a strong personality and air of confidence about him. Phil liked him immediately. "Captain Kravitz, I assume you have been fully briefed about this mission?"
"Yes, Captain Kettenring, and I look forward to co-operating with you in this venture."
"It's going to be very tricky, you realise. We don't know exactly where the Vice-Consul is being held, and the whole thing must be carried out under cover of darkness."
"Yes, Captain. By the time we arrive at the island there will be no moon, so we have an excellent chance of pulling the mission off successfully."
Phil nodded. "Our first approach will be made in two days' time, when your marines will be landed at night and they will recce the whole situation. They will have to rendezvous with the boat one hour before sunup in order that we can stand off during daylight hours and return to effect the rescue the next night. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Very well, thank you for your co-operation." and with that Kravitz left.
---oo0oo---
During the next two days, Phil acquainted himself with the cloaking device and sonar equipment and, despite repeated doses of asprin, he was continuously bothered by a nagging headache which kept him from sleep. However, owing to the urgency of the mission, he did not tell the boat's Medical Officer, Dr Manley - it was nothing, anyway, only a headache.
---oo0oo---
At the end of the second full day's sailing, the 'Dale' approached the island, lying submerged two miles off-shore with cloaking device operating to avoid detection. As night descended, the sub surfaced, deployed Kravitz and three of his marines by rubber dinghy to paddle their way onto the island, then submerged again. Complete radio silence was maintained, so the men were on their own until they returned to the boat.
The recce team beached their dinghy in complete darkness, pulled it up the beach and hid it in a clump of heavy foliage - they would need to have it ready for quick access, should trouble arise. A high-level aerial survey had shown a number of barrack-like structures a quarter mile inland, and the marines made their way through dense foliage towards it. They found the buildings quickly and discovered they were heavily guarded and patrolled. They timed the guards' movements, moving cautiously towards the buildings. One small section of barracks appeared more heavily guarded than the others, and Kravitz guessed that that was where the guerrillas were holding the Vice-Consul. Once again, they timed the guards' movements and the routine they followed for change-over of patrol. Their recce job done, the they returned to the beach and recovered their dinghy, paddling silently out to the rendezvous point with the 'Dale' before dawn. The sub submerged and stood five miles off the coast of the island during the daytime, giving the unit time to plan out their attack on the barracks.
Kravitz reported to Phil. "Captain," said Kravitz, "the number of guards surrounding the barracks is considerably more than we had estimated. I will need two volunteers from your crew to accompany my men on the retrieval raid tonight. Do you have any suggestions?"
"Well," replied Phil, "my Ensign, Philips, has received Marine training, as I have. My Executive Officer, Dave Burston, can command the 'Dale', as he is solely a submariner. I do not know of any other crewmen who have had Marine training to the standard required for us to complete the raid successfully."
"'Very well, Captain, please ask Philips to attend the final briefing at 1700."
---oo0oo---
Shortly after, Phil called Burston to his cabin to brief him. Amazed at his Commanding Officer's apparent recklessness in volunteering to join the raiding party, Burston said: "Phil, why are you doing this? Do you want to get yourself killed?"
"Mind your own business." Phil snarled.
Taken aback, Burston asked: "What's wrong, Phil? Is it Janice?"
"How do you know about Janice?" Phil's dark eyes flashed in sudden anger.
Burston realised he'd put his foot in it, tried to back-pedal. "I'd heard you'd had a ... misunderstanding." he explained cautiously, forcing himself to meet Phil's angry stare.
"Who told you that?" snapped Phil, the look in his eyes commanding a reply.
"Skip did." Burston replied quietly, trying to defuse the explosive atmosphere.
"And who told Skip?" yelled Phil.
"Janice." he answered.
"When did Langley see my wife?"
"While you were in hospital, of course." replied Burston, calmly.
"Oh, so he's another one, eh? Seeing her behind my back. I can well imagine what it's like when I'm out of the country on missions! How often has he seen her?"
"Phil, you've got the wrong idea, there's nothing going on behind your back."
"Oh, no? Let me be the judge or that. Get out of here and attend to your duties!"
Burston made to say something more, but decided against it, snapped a salute and left his angry Captain to his thoughts. As soon as was possible, Dave discretely drew Skip aside and warned him of the potentially dangerous situation.
Alone in his cabin, Phil fought to control his seething emotions and swallowed another couple of analgesics before attending the briefing. He ordered the cloaking device to be operational at all times during the rescue attempt, then made his way to the meeting. Phil did not give Skip an opportunity to speak privately to him before the mission commenced.
---oo0oo---
At precisely 1900 the landing party left the boat, paddling silently back to the beach landing used the night before. Every man was clothed in grey coveralls with no military insignia showing - a necessary precaution in case any man was captured. Kravitz automatically took charge of the landing party. As they approached the shore, the team jumped out of the dinghy and pulled it up to the spot on the beach they had chosen, then they fanned out and approached the barracks in a pincer movement, with Phil and Ensign Philips on the outside flank. The plan for the capture of the Vice-Consul was simple enough - four of the men were to create a diversion in another part of the camp while Kravitz, Phil, Philips and one other Marine were to go in and rescue the man. The four Marines on the left flank deliberately set off the barracks alarm bells by tripping a wire round the perimeter. A general alarm sounded and the undisciplined guerrillas started shooting without really seeing who they were shooting at, while Kravitz, Phil and the other two men went round the back of the barracks, now unguarded, and entered the block where the Vice-Consul was being held. There were still four guards on duty inside the buildings, but four shots loaded with tranquiliser put them silently out of action for a few hours. The Vice-Consul was tightly bound on a bed in an upstairs room. Kravitz cut him free, but his numb legs had difficulty in moving, so Kravitz and Phil carried him back the way they had come. Quite suddenly, and possibly caused by the extra exertion of the assault and the still-wet coveralls from landing the dinghy, Phil's headache returned with doubled intensity and he could no longer support the Vice-Consul. Just outside the perimeter of the barracks, he collapsed, shuddering and groaning.
"Phil! What's wrong?" Kravitz was alarmed by the Captain' a gaunt appearance.
"Go ... on ... without me." he gasped. "Something wrong ... with me - I'll make it out ... on my own."
"No way, Captain, if you get caught, you will be tortured and killed after you have been forced to divulge military secrets. Can you get up?"
Phil was shuddering uncontrollably, his arms clasped tightly round his slim body.
"Consul, can you walk?" asked Kravitz.
"Yes, circulation has returned to my legs, I'll help you carry him back."
"Right, you take one arm, I'll take the other - Phil, try to walk while we support you."
Meanwhile, the decoy team were keeping the guerrillas busy half a mile off to their left and would continue to do so for a further half-hour, giving the rescue party time to get to the dinghy and prepare it for escape.
Returning to the dinghy, they laid Phil, whose violent shuddering had now somewhat abated, into the boat and prepared it for departure. The remainder of land landing party reached them at the run a few minutes later, hotly pursued by the guerrillas. All hands were needed to paddle the little dinghy out of range. Phil, seeing this through a haze of weakness, took a paddle and did what he could. "Phil, you lie back and relax!" ordered Kravitz.
"Can't," gasped Phil, "I've still got to pilot the 'Dale' out of trouble and time is of the essence."
They heard the approaching throb of the 'Dale's' engines and also another sound - a helicopter, with both headlights blazing, was bearing down on them. Burston, on the turret of the 'Dale', saw the danger, and ordered two sharpshooters up to try and draw the copter's fire, while the landing party scrambled onto the deck of the sub. A bullet must have penetrated the copter's fuel tank, as it suddenly erupted into a fireball and crashed into the sea. The men went below decks, the hatches were battened and the sub dived. Phil, still weak and shaking from his attack of illness, took his place on the bridge. The Medical Officer arrived and approached him. "Get away from me, my job's not done yet!" he shouted, pushing the doctor away from him. "Dive, dive, dive!" At 20 fathoms the boat felt a sudden impact -depth charges. The guerrillas had called in two ships and were hoping to hit the sub, but with the 'Dale's' cloaking device operating, their sonar could not get a trace on the sub. Another three depth charges exploded in quick succession, each one nearer than the one before. "Evasive action!" commanded Phil, but before his order could be carried out, a fourth depth charge exploded, ripping a hole in the forward torpedo bay. Water flooded into the compartment and the men had to be evacuated from the area immediately and the compartment sealed off. The sub was thrown onto its side but righted itself, wedged between two overhanging rockfaces. "Cut all engines!" ordered Phil.
"What?" exploded Burston. "We're trapped on the seabed and you want to stop the engines! Has that bug affected your mind?"
"There's nothing wrong with my mind." riposted Phil. "If they think we're dead they'll go away and we can get out of here then."
"Commander" reported Skip, "the air conditioning was damaged in the blast - we only have 12 hours' air left!"
"Oh, great!" groaned Phil. "That's all we need. Chief Engineer, get your men onto the repairs immediately, do what you can."
"Sir, the repairs will take longer than we've got air left."
"I repeat, Mister, do what you can."
"Aye, aye, Sir." and he disappeared to get his engineers onto the task.
Phil checked the cloaking and sonar devices. "Well, that's always something." he said to Burston. "At least they're still operational - the cloaking device should keep us in comparative secrecy and the sonar will tell us when the coast is clear." On the screen, the sonar was recording the two ships moving systematically over the area they'd just bombed. "I want complete ship's silence maintained until further notice - although they're guerrillas, they may well have more sophisticated equipment that can trace us if we make any unusual movements. That order includes the repair crew!"
"Captain," said Burston, "the repair crew are our only chance of survival - you must let them continue working."
"Are you telling me how to do my job?" said Phil, anger flashing in his dark eyes.
Somewhat cowed, Burston replied "Of course not, Sir, but since we came on this cruise you've been uptight."
"Uptight? What do you mean 'uptight'?"
"You've got something other than the sub on your mind."
"I've told you before to mind your own damn business about that." growled Phil. "Attend to your duties, Mister." and he stalked off the bridge and headed for his cabin - God, but he felt awful.
Dr Manley followed him there. "Commander, you must take some medication for your illness - I can give you an injection that will give you a few hours' rest."
"Medication? We've only got 12 hours' air left, and you expect me to take medication? I need all my wits about me till we're out of this hole - no medication - get out of here!"
With a worried glance at the Captain, whose face was pale and damp with sweat, the doctor left the cabin, quietly laying two tablets on the table.
Phil, shaking from emotion and weakness, lay on his bunk for a short while. He took only one of the tablets and, realising there could be no rest for him, he rose wearily and made his way back to the bridge, fighting with himself to control his illness for long enough to complete the mission. The Chief Engineer stepped onto the bridge. "Commander, I'm afraid we have a further problem. The damage to the air conditioning is worse than originally thought. The air is being polluted by a gas from the coolant system - everyone must breathe through their emergency masks or we'll suffocate!"
"Skip, report the movements of the ships."
"Sir, they're moving away but still searching the area in a systematic pattern. I estimate that they will return to base at night, which is now in two hours' time."
"Engineer, can the crew survive that long with the masks?"
"There is enough oxygen in the survival canisters for two hours' breathing, but only that."
"Right, we hold on for another hour, then attempt to free ourselves if the search ships are far enough away." ordered Phil.
All the crew were issued with survival masks and oxygen. The hour ticked slowly by. Phil slumped in Skip's navigation chair, head bowed, unable to stand.
Burston went to him. "Phil, you're real sick - let me take over command."
"No, this is my boat, I'll get us out if it's the last thing I do."
"It may well be." retorted Burston, and once again Phil's eyes flashed in anger, but he was too weak to argue.
---oo0oo---
After the hour had elapsed, all the crew were feeling the effects of breathing minimum oxygen. Phil hauled himself to his feet, his six-foot frame swaying, and held on to the periscope turret for support.
"Report on search ships' location." he ordered, his voice dry and rasping.
"They are at the outer limits of sonar detection." reported Skip. "Engine room, start up the engines!" The engines broke into life. "Slow forward." but the sub did not move. "Increase engine power." Still the boat did not move. "Cut power."
"What do you think's wrong?" asked Skip.
"One of our fins must be stuck, we'll have to free it - which won't be easy with the flooded forward compartment to contend with." replied Phil, a deep frown of worry on his face. "Slow reverse." A grating noise was heard on the boat's hull. "Slow forward." There were more grating noises and slowly, slowly, the sub inched its way out of its watery trap. The grating noises stopped and the sub moved ahead unimpeded. Phil turned to Skip "Set a course in the opposite direction from the search ships! How much air do we have left, Engineer?"
"Half an hour."
"We remain submerged for another 20 minutes, then we go up!"
"Two of the crewmen have passed out already from oxygen deficiency." Dr Manley reported. "You must go up sooner."
"And risk detection? This time we can't re-submerge - they'd pick us off easily - we stay under."
The doctor grabbed Phil's arm. "Look, these men may die before then - we have no spare oxygen canisters - in pity's name, you must go up!"
Phil turned ominously to the Doctor. He said evenly: "I very much regret having to make such a decision but, as the Vice-Consul is still in fair shape, the priority is for me to return him safely to Base. This is a matter of National security. I have no alternative but to remain submerged. Please leave the bridge, doctor!"
"You're mad, Kettenring - I'll have you certified as unfit to command anything, let alone a submarine, when this mission is over." and Manley stormed off the bridge.
Phil returned to his task. Twenty minutes later, Phil asked for a status report about the search ships. "They are now outwith sonar detection range, Captain." reported Skip.
"Right, take her up!"
Five minutes later, with only five minutes' air left in the crew's survival masks, the sub broke surface. Immediately the hatches were unbattened and clear, fresh, sea air flooded the starving lungs of the crew. A cheer went up throughout the submarine.
"Ahead full power, set a course to Base!" But as Phil made to climb the ladder to the turret, he crashed to the floor, unconscious. "Doctor, attend to him!" pleaded Skip.
The unconscious Captain was carried by two crewmen to his cabin, where Dr Manley gave him a thorough examination, on completion of which he reported to Burston. "Captain Kettenring has malaria - he is unfit to command the boat for the rest of this cruise."
"I shall assume command, doctor." said Burston.
"Very well. I'm afraid I do not have the necessary drugs to counteract the worst effects of this strain of malaria - he will have to be hospitalised as soon as we return to Base. In the meantime, I will sedate him - rest is necessary for him after what he's been through, let alone be afflicted with malaria. He must have terrific reserves of strength in him to have gone on this long.
---oo0oo---
For the rest of the uneventful cruise home, Phil was confined to Sickbay and was not allowed visitors. Burston commanded the 'Dale'. On their return to Base the Vice-Consul was taken to see Admiral Pearson, where he informed him of the valiant part Phil had played in his rescue. Phil was immediately transferred to the hospital, where be spent some time recovering, during which he resolutely refused to see either Skip or Janice. Immediately after his release from hospital, he was given his next assignment - as Captain of the USS 'Anthony Wayne'.
---oo0oo---