GrogHeads Forum

Of all the branches of men in the forces, there is none which shows more devotion and faces grimmer perils than the submariners.
- Sir Winston Churchill


This AAR is yet another I am writing, in the wake of many others on these very boards that are still awaiting my attention. I am doing so because this was the first time I was devoted to trying my hand at a fictional story wrapper around the mechanics of the game system as well as gameplay itself, much like what Airborne Rifles did in his excellent series of AARs.

The difference between this one and the others is, I decided many months ago to commit to completing a majority of it to paper, including the selection and creation of graphics to illustrate the story, well before actually starting it here. As of this writing, I have several 'chapters' already written out. The real challenge with this work was more finding the right images rather than actually creating them from scratch in Photoshop.

For the images, I 'raided' the Silent Victory VASSAL module for a few things; it saved me a step or two and therefore valuable time, so my thanks to whomever built that module in the first place. I also took a lot of screenshots from the movie, Run Silent, Run Deep, which I'd never seen before. I try to refrain from using too many images of the actors themselves (I don't intend to try to put in your mind that any of my characters are Clark Gable, Burt Lancaster, or Don Rickles – among others. But, I will use it occasionally to try to illustrate the mood of the scene I'm trying to describe. If it does not work, I'll stop doing it, but will likely use a lot of images from that movie that don't have known actors in them, regardless.

I'm not sure of the class of boat used in that movie, either. So, I take dramatic license not just with that, but with anything else in this story. I make no attempt to claim to be ANY kind of expert on U.S. Navy or IJN procedures or lingo, uniforms or rank, thought processes or environments. I did do some research on settings and vessels, but again, when I do get into detail, a lot of it tends to be guesswork rather than me intending to be the 'voice of the WW2 American submariner.'

If I get anything wrong...and I know I will...I have no problem with anyone reading this to correct me. I will make adjustments for it, if it is a big deal, or just a really dumb mistake on my part. Overall, though, I just intend to present a story around a rather excellent game system. 

Another thing. This is going to be an alternate history romp. A few things will happen that change the course of major events as they did historically, so I'm going to do my best to extrapolate what I think would happen.

One thing I've struggled with, is whether or not to include real-life historical figures. Originally I wanted to use the names of real crew that went down with their boats during World War 2, as a way of recognizing their heroism – as odd as it may be to do it in a gaming AAR. It seems more fitting since July 4 is right around the corner, and the Independence Day sequel sure as hell isn't going to fit THAT bill. So, I might still go with pictures of historical figures, alive or passed, to add some dimension to this story. I hope nobody gets upset, because that's not the intent at all, here.

And, I'm going to do my best to refrain from naming any of the characters/crew in this piece, as opposed to the main protagonist himself, as well as a few others related to the storyline. I've taken the liberty of using one or two of you already as inspiration for naming, but I won't name any more just yet. Anyone that replies in this thread, though, will be fair game for future officer or crew positions. Silent Victory allows for, from what I can tell, a Captain (already named), an Exec (XO), a Chief Engineer, a Pharmacist's Mate, a 3rd Officer, and up to four crew, as well as a 'Passenger.' The latter is usually for Special Missions, such as infiltration, rescue...that sort of thing. However, just because you reply to this thread, doesn't mean I'll automatically include you. It really depends on the turns this story takes. So, if you say something like "make me the XO," don't be surprised if you end up being Crew #4 instead. It will just depend on what happens in the future. This one is going to be a little different than the ones I normally do, obviously!

I'll also just say that I am attempting to re-write a novel series that I've been working on for the better part of 20 years. This will give me a lot of practice to that end, and any critique really is welcome – not just that related to me flubbing how things are done.

And, finally: I am my own biggest critic when it comes to my fiction writing. Everything I commit to paper seems to just be lame and terrible to me, even though I've been told I do it well enough. I can't quite wrap my head around that. This is probably why, too, it's taken me 20-some years to work on my trilogy of novels. In any case, if you find this lame, then yes, I might be so inclined to agree with you. That's just the way I'm wired.

Thanks for reading. I hope you get as much enjoyment out of reading this, as I get out of putting it all together!

Chapter 1: Introduction

The sea complains upon a thousand shores.
- Alexander Smith

December 12, 1941
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
0758 Local Time

The naval staff car pulled up to the front of 29 Makalapa Drive, just a few blocks from CINCPAC Headquarters, itself on the very edge of Pearl Harbor. The trees swayed in a breeze that still carried the stink of death and fire from the Japanese attack earlier in the week; it seemed to permeate everything. A pall of smoke clung to the shores of Pearl Harbor, fed by a seemingly never-ending smoldering stench that still poured from the few remaining ships that still, days later, refused to die.

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29 Makalapa Drive. The front door faces in the opposite direction from Pearl Harbor.

Lieutenant Radley F. Kadoe, USN, stepped out of the small BOQ (Bachelor Officer's Quarters) bungalow that he shared with three other low-ranking Navy officers. He wore very few ribbons or decorations on his khaki uniform, but his six-foot frame filled it well enough. He did his best to stay in shape, because it was hard enough navigating the cramped confines of a submarine when you're tall, let alone wide in the hips. His gray eyes were almost white, set in a ruddy face that came from years at sea as opposed to heavy drinking (with some Naval officers, it was from both). His jet-black hair was from his brunette Irish mother, whereas his 'good looks' (as his father reminded him) came from his side of the family, from Norway. (His father didn't know whether to be proud, or disturbed, that his son had Norwegian blood in him and failed to find a taste for liquor.)

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Lieutenant Radley F. Kedoe, USN
Taken shortly before leaving San Diego for Pearl Harbor

Stepping out into the air of Pearl, Kadoe reflexively took in a deep lungful of air through a relatively narrow nose. Breathing deeply once he was outside, anywhere. was a habit he'd slowly developed after nearly ten years of submarine service. The smell of sea air, and the stink of the harbor, as well as the stench of war, all assaulted his sense of smell at once. Still, it was far better than the smoky mess of 3/4 of the bungalow he shared; his fellow USN officers smoked endlessly.

Another habit was his now-automatic 'go to hell' reaction whenever anyone had a comment to make about his engagement to a Nisei woman, which despite only happening two weeks ago, was now well-known to many throughout the base. This might have raised eyebrows back then, a lifetime ago now, or at most rankled the nerves of the less tolerant in the Fleet. But now, after the surprise attack, whispers and pointing usually followed in his wake. Some went so far as to suggest he had spied for the Japanese and helped set up the attack. That particular nasty rumor had earned a fellow Lieutenant, unlucky enough to bring this revelation to Kadoe's attention at the O-club late Monday night, a nice shiny black eye.

His fiancé was living near Los Angeles, back in California, with her mother, father, and four older brothers. Her father had bought a small plot back in 1919 when they first emigrated here, and it had a good amount of success with growing oranges and other fruit, enough to turn one acre into twenty and a good living for his family.

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Since he'd met Sachiko on that very farm, his car breaking down nearby and her father putting him to work to pay for the phone call he had to make, it was love at first sight. By the time he'd put in a few hours of back-breaking work digging up a few dead trees to make room for new seedlings, she made a lot of excuses up to be back in that part of the orchard, something Radley had picked up on despite him being a squid. Her father had picked up on it too, a few weeks later, when Radley just happened to 'break down' again nearby. He had a few weeks off from an assignment in San Diego, and spent most of it helping out in the Top Orchard business. Sachiko's father might have been miserly and not happy with an Anglo taking a romantic interest in his daughter – and vice-versa – but Kadoe was a hard worker, didn't expect to be paid (even better), and was there every day he was off on leave. His learning of a few Japanese phrases impressed his sons, whom took it upon themselves to teach him the dirtier phrases of the ancient language.

Her father was also perturbed that his youngest daughter had not yet married, whereas all of her sisters and brothers had found good Japanese mates. It was good she was interested in someone, he would think to himself and himself alone, but he wished it was someone other than an Anglo man.

Because Kadoe spent whatever time he could out there, he had dealt with more than enough Asian-hating, chair-warming assholes over the last year, and especially in the last few months after he'd politely inquired into making her a dependent, as his wife. Now, he thought with equal measures of anger, grief, and fear, it was highly doubtful that marriage would happen. Hell, he thought, the shit now had really hit the fan, and he doubted tolerance of Japanese Americans would be at an all-time high; his own insistence in pursuing the matter with his commanders, in fact, hadn't exactly endeared him with them, and over the last few days he'd had to endure more than his share of slurs, evil looks, and even fists.

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The posters that began going up everywhere in record time, didn't help matters at all. In fact, it drew even more attention to him. He had had his first actual thoughts of quitting the Navy for the first time in his life, as distasteful as it was, the idea of working as a civilian...

Shaking his head and taking another breath to clear his head, he stepped down the sidewalk. He wore his khaki uniform, a more casual-than-normal  outfit for meeting with a Captain, but Radley was at a point beyond caring. He figured the Lieutenant rank, one solid black board on each shoulder holding two thick gold stripes denoting his rank. He'd held that rank for nearly six months now, though he was nearly thirty years old and having spent nearly ten years in the Navy. Promotions were not exactly fast these days, but the war would probably change that. Not that it mattered, now. Even though he'd graduated from the Naval Academy in '31, that distinction was pretty much the only thing keeping his career hanging by a thread as opposed to plummeting into the deep, dark civilian job market abyss.

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He was, in fact, pretty damned surprised he still seemed to have the executive officer (XO) post on the USS Groghead, one of a handful of boats that the Japanese fortunately missed on December 7th. He was only one of eight officers aboard her...well, seven, he had to correct himself, as his skipper was no longer counted among the crew. And several enlisted men were wounded, one pretty seriously; Kadoe remembered the man's horrific gut wound as he lay on the dock by the submarine, explosions and fire raging everywhere, the red of his entrails poking out like hellish snakes...

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A Zero fighter ready to take off from the deck of the Akagi in the early morning of December 7.

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Battleship Row, burning fiercely, shortly after the first wave's attack.

He blinked a few times, both to remove the image from his minds' eye and to defend against the glare of the sun off of the dark-colored staff car, an innocuous "USN" and some forgettable number stenciled in chipped yellow paint on the side. It was but the first roll of the snowball, which would gather speed and obliterate everything in its path...especially his career.

Lieutenant Kadoe was pretty certain that by the end of the day, he'd be Lieutenant Desk-Rider, in charge of shuffling papers from one box to another. Today's meeting with the sub division's commander, he thought ruefully, was going to follow a certain path, which included (a) he was not going to receive command of the USS Groghead as tradition usually allowed, (b) that his Nisei-loving ass could screw right off to that desk job and possibly even (c) be introduced to the Marine Corps, or worse, (d) be transferred to the nearest Army latrine-cleaning unit.

Admittedly, the torrent of negative thoughts tended to build up on themselves, but Radley was enough of a realist to recognize that (a) was about 100% likely, given the circumstances, and the remainder didn't really matter at that point. Captain Brantski, the commander over the handful of subs at Pearl, was notoriously difficult to read.

And, ultimately, he knew he only had himself to blame. He's the one that sought out the advice; he's the one that asked around; he's the one that pushed it when the establishment tried to gently talk him out of it, or at least drop it for the time being. However, Radley had dreams of moving her here to Oahu, where the Pacific Islander population would likely make her feel more comfortable than southern California. At the very least, she'd be closer to him. But he hadn't broached the subject with Sachiko. Which is hilarious, he thought, since he'd more than broached it with the Navy. In fact he'd pretty much broadsided the whole goddamn thing.

Trying to push all of that from his mind, he stepped down towards the street. The staff car's door opened and a kid with sharp Italianesque features in a rumpled, well-used dungaree work uniform hurriedly stepped out of the car. Despite his appearance he walked ramrod-straight to the curb, facing Kadoe, stood at attention, and gave a crisp salute.

"Fireman Third Class Melvin Walter, sir," he said, with a thick New Jersey accent.

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Fireman Third Class Melvin Hillary Walter. Lost with the USS Grunion, July 20, 1942

Kadoe returned the salute, and then nodded to his uniform. "Someone pull you off of a more important job to pick up an officer that can't be bothered to walk a few hundred feet to the base?"

The enlisted man blinked, his brain trying to process what the Lieutenant said and what reaction he was looking for. After a few heartbeats, Walter suddenly looked very nervous, his cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, sir. I only just got transferred and they put me right to work. Then the Chief was told to come pick you up, so he looked around and..."

"And he selected you," said Kadoe. The officer looked off, towards the harbor, nodding slightly. Probably Chief Bates. Not the most tolerant of men. When he'd heard of Kadoe's current romantic life, his personality went from its normal cool to absolute zero.

This is going to be fun, thought Kadoe.

He also wondered if he could ask Captain Brantski for a transfer. But then, he thought f*ck it, if the Navy is going to screw me out of a command, and pretty much my career, there's not much point in being an officer anymore, is there?

"Understood, Walter. I don't stand much on formalities when there's work to be done. It gets in the way and takes up too much valuable time." Before Walter could agree, Kadoe started for the passenger door. Walter tried to step in front of him to open the door but Kadoe waved him off brusquely, doing it himself. Walter got the message and quickly stepped around to the driver's side. Kadoe already was thinking, not without a bit of mirth, what officer pigeonhole this man was trying to place him in.

"Captain Smith sends his compliments too, sir. He requested that you report to him as soon as possible at headquarters."

"Captain Smith?" replied Kadoe, a measure of surprise seeping into his voice. Smith was the last name of the navigator on the Groghead. Surely he wasn't her captain, now...? It wasn't like there was a lot of Navy officers named "Smith," either...yeah, right.

Well, dummy, you had to go and ask your commander about marrying a Nisei, and his aide had overheard it, and by the end of the day it was all over the base that you're a "Nip-lover." Some were more tolerant than others, but those men were few and far between, especially after planes with red meatballs on their wings put more than 2,000 men and women into an early grave, and most of the United States Pacific Fleet at the bottom of Pearl Harbor.

"John Smith, sir," said Walter, starting up the car and looking over his shoulder before pulling the Navy Chevrolet onto the street, heading north. "He's from the Pouncer, served as her XO, sir."

Okay, that was new, thought Kadoe. "Never heard of him. Not too many 'John Smiths' in the Navy," he said, completely deadpan.

Walter risked a glance at his XO, and slightly grinned, an almost shy upturning of the right side of his mouth. "Neither had any of us, sir, until yesterday."

Great, thought Kadoe. Guess they're not giving the Groghead to a 'Nip-lover.' The thought enraged him, even though he'd been expecting it. He'd talked about it at length when he was stateside with Sachiko, whom was much more pragmatic about Kadoe's career and, while she wanted nothing more than to marry him, she very much was aware of what such a bonding would bring to Radley and his Naval career. Sachiko's family was less supportive; their daughter had been born in Japan shortly before they moved to the United States, and even though they lived with relatives whom had been in the States for two generations, it was difficult for them to shed their traditions and outlooks. Kadoe and Sachiko had worked for nearly a year and a half to thaw the ice, and had just started making a breakthrough, when he was ordered to report to the Groghead in San Diego. He'd only been back twice in that time on leave, but carried on an almost daily correspondence with Sachiko, and after she recommended it, started writing her father and mother once every couple of weeks. It took six letters before they sent a short, curt reply – but the fact that they did was rather meaningful.

Shaking himself from his reverie, and knowing he hadn't written Sachiko yet, he moved his thoughts to something else. "Where are you from, Walter?"

"Uh...sir, I'm from Wyckoff, New Jersey, sir."

"Formal naval regulations may require two 'sirs' per sentence, Walter, but one is fine with me, unless we're around other officers, understood?"

Walter hesitated as he made a U-turn to go south towards CINCPAC Headquarters' main entrance, but also because he wasn't sure if his XO was messing with him. "Uh...yes, sir."

"We'll get along fine, then. How are things in Groghead's engine room?"

"S...fine, sir," Walter corrected himself. "We'll be ready in a couple of days. Had some major overhauling to do but it's coming along quickly, sir."

He recalled that when Groghead pulled into Pearl, she had been having problems with her engines ever since they got about halfway from San Diego.

"Good."

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The remainder of the drive, a whole four minutes, went by in silence as Walter pulled the Chevrolet into the front gate. The normal solitary MP was now a squad of heavily-armed Marines with two equally-heavily-armed Navy MPs. One stopped the car, scrutinized both their IDs, snapped a salute, and let the car pass.

Walter let out a loud sigh through his nose.

"Different world now, Walter."

"Yes, sir," the enlisted man simply replied, not entirely happy with it all.

The Chevrolet was soon in front of the two-story, veranda-wrapped building that constituted the headquarters of U.S. Naval Forces, Pacific. The submarines were a few hundred yards away, opposite the front. The submarine wharf was crawling with vehicles, men, and supplies; the rest of Pearl Harbor was crawling with repair and clean-up crews.

"Captain Smith is in here, and not on the boat?" asked Kadoe as they came to a stop.

"Yes sir," said Walter. "Captain Brantski told me just before I left, sir, to bring you here since he was bringing Captain Smith here too, sir."

That was odd. Walter hurriedly opened the car door, but Kadoe beat him to it, stepping out of the solidly-built, dark-colored American car as Walter came around the corner of the vehicle, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, sir. Old habits."

"No problem, Walter. Why don't you go return the car and get back to work."

"Sir, Captain Brantski told me to wait and take you over-"

"To the wharf?" Kadoe interrupted. He looked off over the roof of the Chevrolet, towards the subs, letting his gaze linger for a heartbeat, then looked back at Walter.

"It's only a hundred yards, Walter. I think I can manage it."

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"Yes sir," said Walter, with a hint of respect, clearly not comfortable with hanging around here in a dirty uniform. He snapped off another sharp salute, which Kadoe returned, and then hurried back to the driver's side, eager to get back to real work instead of chauffeuring officers around – especially officers that had no use for chauffeuring.

Kadoe took a moment to take in the wide, low-slung building in front of him. There'd been way too much to do and too little time. He, as well as the rest of the crew and officers aboard the Groghead had been chomping at the bit to get orders to go on patrol, especially after their skipper's brains had been splattered all over the conning tower as he directed the boat's .50-caliber machine guns to try to swat the hyper-nimble Jap planes from the sky.

Today, there were no funerals, no distractions; this meeting called for the submarine officers present at Pearl was the long-anticipated moment when Kadoe figured they'd get their orders, meet replacement officers, and start the business of preparing for war. Something they'd all trained for, but hoped would never happen.

At least, that's what Kadoe thought was going to happen. But now, thanks to the well-veiled tip from Walter, it sounded like he and his new Captain were having a meeting with their submarine division commander.

It was also odd, he thought, that Walter was a new guy, one he hadn't seen before on the Groghead. He further wondered if this meant they shifted a lot of men around on these boats, making for all-new crews. He wasn't certain that was a smart move to do before everyone's first real war patrols, but what did he know – he was just a lowly Lieutenant, one that wanted to marry a "foreigner" that was of a country that the United States was at war with.

If life wasn't interesting, he thought, it might be positively dull.

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With a final sigh, he stepped up on the curb and down the sidewalk, towards the front door of headquarters.

Very nicely done, Banzai.
As an aside, if you need more background, John Prados' book Combined Fleet, Decoded has some very neat details on Station Hypo, Joe Rochefort, Jasper Holmes, et al.
And I'd highly recommend taking as much inspiration as you want from Run Silent, Run Deep.  The author's widow, Ingrid Beach, is still alive in Washington, Dc, and gets residuals every time it is played. 

Great read so far! More! More!

Only question: Is the name of the boat the Grognard, with 'Groghead' being a nickname? The two seem to swap back and forth a bit.

Stagger, remember that the head on a ship is the bathroom.
Sailors like to play on names and be irreverent.  Grognard is the official name, Groghead refers to the crew's feelings and their pet name for the ship.

I'm in!

Quote from: besilarius on June 30, 2016, 08:12:24 PM
Stagger, remember that the head on a ship is the bathroom.
Sailors like to play on names and be irreverent.  Grognard is the official name, Groghead refers to the crew's feelings and their pet name for the ship.

OK, I'll buy that.

(NM: Weird Double post.)

Admittedly I wrote and re-wrote that Intro piece many times, and it suffered for it. I missed some consistency, there. The boat's name should indeed be Groghead; thanks for attempting to put logic, though, where there is apparently not much, Bes!  :coolsmiley:

I tried to fix some of the time references so hopefully it makes a bit more sense. I must admit to not being very aware of what the exact consequences would be for a US Navy officer at the outbreak of World War 2 for having a relationship with a woman that was technically born in Japan. I imagine it would fall into the "not good for your career" category. I imagine Captain Brantski as being a little less tolerant of the BS and recognizing that Kadoe is a decent if not outright good officer and they're damned short of those these days, that he needs to be put on patrol. If he comes back a success, it would be a LOT harder for the brass in the Navy to get him pulled off the boat, especially if he has a fantastic first patrol. At least, that's my logic - as I said in the first post I could very easily be way, way off base. But that's how I'm interpreting it, and how I'm writing it.

Chapter 2: The Submarine

There is a touch of the pirate about every man who wears the dolphins badge.
- Commander Jeff Tall, RN

December 12, 1941
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

The Groghead is a Narwhal-class submarine, laid down at the Portsmouth Navy Yard in Kittery, Maine in May of 1927. The V-5, later named Narwhal, was her sister boat, laid down at roughly the same time, but likely first as her name was designated to be the class of these submarines. Originally named V-6, the Groghead was launched in an official ceremony on December 18, 1929, christened by Mrs. Charles F. Adams, wife of the Secretary of the Navy at the time.

The V-series of boats were originally designed as minelayers, but with Narwhal, the minelaying system was eliminated to free up more space, and this was done on the following Narwhal-class submarines (Groghead, Argonaut, and Nautilus, in that order). Overall, she displaced 2,780 tons surfaced, and just a fraction over 4,000 tons when submerged, with 371 feet overall of length and 33 feet, 3 ¼ inches abeam.

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Narwhal (nearest dock), next to Groghead, shortly before their August departure to the West Indies.

She began her career by accompanying the Narwhal on August 11, 1930, for a first cruise to the West Indies; the Narwhal returned to Portsmouth a month later, on September 11, while Groghead returned on September 15. She trained in New England waters for a brief time before transiting the Panama Canal and arriving at San Diego on April 15, 1931. She officially received her name Groghead upon arrival in San Diego.

With four torpedo tubes fore and two aft when built, her offensive capabilities were on par with other submarines of the era...but this would change tremendously over her lifespan. More interesting were her two 6-inch Mark XII Mod. 2 deck guns, which were the same type used as secondary batteries on Lexington-class battlecruisers and South Dakota-class battleships. Clearly, she was meant to hold her own when facing ships on the surface, although she wasn't intended to go toe-to-toe with much heavier warships on a regular basis.

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While this may be an older picture, it gives a good look at one of this submarine class's 6-inch guns.

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Another view of the Groghead, this time during a brief posting to Mare Island, near San Francisco.

Over the next ten years, the Groghead patrolled the waters of the eastern Pacific, transiting as far north as the waters outside of Anchorage, Alaska, as far south as Johnston Atoll, and as far west as Midway Island, but mostly stuck to the West Coast of the United States. In mid-1941, with fears mounting of possible Japanese aggression, the Groghead was transferred to Pearl Harbor and stationed with the four other boats assigned there; several other submarines were still basing out of San Diego at the time of the Pearl Harbor attack.

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The USS Groghead, during the Pearl Harbor attack. The other subs are docked just to the left, outside of the frame of this picture.

Groghead, as well as the other four subs, had most of their crews ashore at the time of the attack; the skeleton crew about the Groghead, including her skipper, immediately took up their .50-caliber machineguns and were credited with downing a low-flying B5N "Kate" carrier torpedo bomber, as it lined itself up to attack Battleship Row. Unfortunately for Groghead, an accompanying Zero witnessed the downing and strafed Groghead and her sister ships in retaliation; the captain of Groghead was killed instantly, with several other crew seriously wounded (including two Machinist Mates, one Gunner's Mate, and several others). The attack resulted in casualties among the other boats, but the Groghead's commander was the only officer death from the submarines present.

Lieutenant Kadoe was ashore, having a very rare day off; having slept in to the very late hour (for him) of 0700, he decided to ignore his day off and report for duty. Otherwise, he would have been bored to tears. Days off in the Navy were precious for a lot of the enlisted men and most officers, but Kadoe himself had little to do in Oahu, had no special friends or girlfriends (only one mattered to him, and she was thousands of miles away to the east), and was otherwise devoted to his job as XO of the Groghead. He'd only recently received the new thick gold stripe that replaced the thinner one, now making him a Navy Lieutenant (equivalent to a Captain in the other branches), and it felt subsequently heavier on his shoulders. Being in the submarine force was something of a give-and-take with Kadoe; it gave him a thrill to be a part of something so small, so elite, and so important, but it quietly scared the piss out of him every time the narrow metal hull dived underneath the water. It wasn't that he was claustrophobic; on the contrary. He had a deathly fear of drowning. Not that any other normal person was thrilled with the prospect of that either, but Kadoe had had some genuine nightmares over the last six months over it.

Lieutenant Kadoe had been assigned to various submarines over the years, and joined the Groghead in 1938 as it conducted a refit in the San Diego Navy Yard. By then, the Groghead's crew had been shuffled around, so he was somewhat fortunate to come on board with a new group of enlisted men and officers. It would be late 1939, as war clouds broke over Europe, that Kadoe would meet Sachiko as he restlessly explored Southern California, alone.

His thoughts of the past weren't doing much to comfort him as he strode purposefully to the front door of the headquarters building. The entrance, normally vacant, was now flanked on both sides by Navy MP guards that snapped to attention at his approach. Their rifles were moved to the 'present arms' position in salute, and Kadoe returned it; before the officer's fingertips came up to the brim of his cap, though, the guard on the right smartly moved to open the door for him. Kadoe hated formalities like that while a lot of his peers reveled in it, like Roman Senators. It just embarrassed him, more than anything.

He stepped into the relatively cooler inside air, not breaking stride as he headed down towards Captain Brantski's offices. "Offices" sounded rather formal, where in reality the Captain had two rooms - one for his staff, including his aide, and one for him, which was much smaller than the staff room. It would be easy to find - Kadoe had been there before, but he reflected that were he new, all he would have to do is follow the sounds of cursing.

Nicely done, Banzai. I've been thinking of picking this game up.  It'll be your fault if I do.

Quote from: Silent Disapproval Robot on July 01, 2016, 11:20:29 AM
Nicely done, Banzai. I've been thinking of picking this game up.  It'll be your fault if I do.

Considering you helped fuel my acquirement of X-Wing Minis for months, you're welcome!

December 12, 1941
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
0807 Local Time

Kadoe was stunned speechless.

"Sir?" he asked, barely hearing his own voice.

He sat in the small but relatively comfortable office of Captain B. R. Brantski, Commander, SUBDIV1, a shore post for the immediate commander of the boats moored barely 300 feet beyond where they now sat. Brantski was a good commander, even if his beltline pushed the edge of the desk more than it should have. Still, he'd spent his time and earned a great deal of respect as a submarine commander, himself.

"I'll read it more slowly for the Navy Officers in the room," he said, while grinning. He glanced down at the fresh page in front of him, orders typed up by his aide and signed by the Captain himself. "'Lieutenant Commander Radley F. Kadoe is hereby ordered to take command of the USS Groghead, effective 12 December 1941.' There's more, but it's the usual gobbledy-gook nonsense." He tossed the paper casually across his battered oak desk, and it fluttered to a stop in front of Kadoe.

Commander Smith (Captain Smith, Kadoe had to remind himself, but then remind himself again this was no longer the case, apparently) was not present, apparently choosing to vacate the office after having command given to him and subsequently taken away within a two-day span of time. Captain Brantski and told him to return to San Diego, where he'd command the next boat that came online, and that was that.

"Sir, I..." he started, then a flare went off in his skull. "Sir...'Lieutenant Commander?'"

"What?" Brantski said loudly, gruffly, impatiently. The older man sighed loudly. "That's why the Navy gets such a hard time. Did the Groghead leak diesel fumes? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?"

"No, sir," said Kadoe after each question, trying to suppress a laugh. Captain Brantski, once you got to know him, liked to joke. Those that didn't know him were doomed to stew in the mess of obscenities that he liked to lay down.

"Oh, I get it," said the Captain. He sat back in his chair, which creaked loudly in protest. A knowing look slowly bloomed on his face. "You thought I wouldn't trust your 'nip-loving' ass?"

Kadoe blinked, but seeing Brantski's rueful grin begin to spread across his face, offset the automatic "f*ck you" that almost passed his lips in defense. Kadoe grudgingly dared a smile in return.

"Something like that, sir."

Brantski waved a hand dismissively. "Stop worrying about that shit, Kadoe. You're a good officer and the men like you." The Captain stood up, adjusting his beltline to ensure his uniform shirt was tucked in, which had come out slightly as he was sitting down. He walked over to the window, which looked out the front of Headquarters towards the subs.

"I suppose, sir, not everyone else feels that way."

"You have three focuses now, Lieutenant Commander, and none of them are Navy pricks whose opinions don't matter," said Brantski, his gaze fixed on something outside of the window. The Captain raised his right hand, still looking out the window, and ticked off three fingers: "Your boat. Your crew. Your mission."

"Sir?" said Kadoe, feeling his stomach finishing its excited flip-flops from having not just his command, but not coming to a sudden stop as reality set in – a mission. In wartime. This wasn't training anymore; the next time they saw a Japanese ship, they'd do their utmost to destroy it and kill as many of them as they could.

The Japanese will do their best to return the favor, too, said a thought at the back of Kadoe's mind. But, the realization that he'd now command the Groghead – his boat, he reminded himself! – more than overweighed that. Now, he'd have a chance to prove himself. He wanted more than anything to impress Captain Brantski, whom he knew had to have put his ass out on a limb for Kadoe in order to push this assignment through.

"Each of the boats out there," said Brantski, jerking a thumb towards the window and turning towards Kadoe, "are all heading out within the next few days...including Groghead. Your boat is to leave in two days, on the fourteenth, at dawn. 0600. The engine overhaul, I've heard, is half a day from being done. She's then going to be outfitted, which should take half a day – if her commander keeps the men focused. Then, he might give them a half-day pass to Honolulu to enjoy some R&R before the big day."

Kadoe's mind raced now, not just with the fear of submerging. That fear was now being crowded out as Kadoe's Navy-trained mind began to create checklists and things to do out of thin air, to prepare his boat for the coming patrol.

"Yes sir," Kadoe replied immediately, his voice much more confident now.

Captain Brantski slammed an open palm on his desk, making his pen set jump. "Damn right, 'yes sir.' Look, I'll be honest with you, Commander Kadoe. There's a lot of eyes on you for this one. Not just for the business with the Nisei woman, but because this is the first real move that we can make against the Japanese. We need a victory. Don't come back empty-handed." Brantski handed him a thick manila envelope, sealed, filled with the specifics of his mission.

"Yes sir," said Kadoe, standing up, accepting the large, thick envelope, standing at attention, and saluting.

Brantski returned the salute and said, "Dismissed. Get moving."

"Yes sir," replied Kadoe, smartly doing an about face and stepping to the door.

"Another thing, Lieutenant Commander. Wipe that goddamned grin off your face, just in case Smith is still hanging around. He's not pleased he has to go stateside to get his boat."

December 14, 1941
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
0551 Local Time

The first war patrol of the Groghead was clear: transit the central Pacific, with the destination being the Marshall Islands. At the Captain's discretion, follow the route indicated and search for Japanese shipping and warships. Sink same. Return to Pearl Harbor.

Return to Pearl Harbor. One could only hope, thought Kadoe.

But such thoughts were pushed far from his mind, as he supervised the wrap-up of the Groghead's provisioning and watched as she was made ready for sea. It would only be a few more minutes now; he stood on the bridge of the submarine, with his XO – Lieutenant Thomas A. Ryfels, a boyish but very capable officer that had barely made the Groghead's sailing.

Two other lookouts rounded out the watch on the bridge, waiting with the two officers as the Groghead was readied. Soon, the mooring lines were cast off, and the submarine slowly purred her way out into the harbor, through the ship channel, and past the outer buoys to the open sea.

"Make your heading two-seven-zero," he said into the bridge speaking tube.

"Two seven zero, aye," came the response. The Groghead almost immediately began a right turn, heading towards the heart of the vast Pacific. Soon, Oahu faded into the distance.

As it disappeared, Kadoe had the same thought that countless other sailors have had over the last many hundreds of years: I hope I see home again.

****

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The game's Campaign Map. I put it through Photoshop to clean it up a little, so it might not exactly match the one that comes with the game.

In game, there are two Transit boxes between each Port and the target areas. Each move into each Transit area requires a roll, but only on a 2 (snake eyes) or a 12 (box cars) will something happen. Furthermore, rolling a 12 causes a Random Event to occur, as well. This can be good...or bad.

In the case of the Groghead, I roll a '7' for the first Transit zone, then a '3,' so she makes it to the Marshall Islands without incident.

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The Campaign Map, but with just the Marshall's patrol route shown.

Once we arrive in the Marshalls (or any other patrol area on the map), there are five 'boxes' to move through. I have to check for an encounter in each one. The middle (third) box usually requires two Encounter rolls, in most of the Patrol areas.

Awesome stuff, BC  O0

Banzai, if you enjoyed Run Silent, Run Deep, you might want to find Beach's second WWII novel, Dust on the Sea.
It is about an american wolf pack attacking a Japanese convoy.  In a way, it is more detailed than the first novel.  Beach thought it a better representation of submarine combat, but the very bittersweet ending didn't make it very popular.

I am going to be out of town until next Sunday, but I will be able to continue this, then.

Sorry for the delay, anyone that was enjoying this. :)

I had to remove the last line of the last post as it didn't make much sense in the scheme of the story, and I fear that might be a recurring thing. I'm trying to write this from A to Z, though as I do, I think of something cool that I want to add, but it means going back and changing something. I did a lot of that when I was first writing out all the chapters in Word, but now that I'm posting them, I think I will avoid that re-write junk and stick with the script, as it were.

Anyway, here we go...back to it!

----------

December 23, 1941
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
0951 Local Time

In the cramped Captain's cabin aboard the Groghead, Lieutenant Commander Kadoe considered the last week or so: no enemy contact. Their transit from Pearl Harbor started on a wave of adrenaline, fear, and unleashed nervous energy, energy which Kadoe and the officers and senior NCOs channeled into drill after drill. The men were tired to the point of exhaustion. All the nervous energy they had when they first left Pearl had nowhere to manifest itself, except in the form of drilling emergency dives into the crew.

The first drills became more drills. In the middle of watches, at the change of watches, or anytime the Captain decided, the crew of the Groghead would scramble madly, pouring from the various tiny spaces aboard the submarine like roaches in the light, finding their stations, letting out choice curses as they slammed into each other like the bumper car ride at a low-rent amusement park. Captain Kadoe seemed to be everywhere, his hard stare punctuating every man's mad scramble. Even when not conducting drills, Captain Kadoe made the men start to feel like it could happen at any moment.

To help alleviate that tension, Captain Kadoe ordered yet more drills.

He was absolutely determined to get the men on the Groghead in such sharp form that they'd be able to do any of it in their sleep. Not that they got a lot of that – more than a few of them were grumbling and complaining more than usual, but that thoroughly satisfied their skipper...a grumbling crew was better than a quiet one.

It was just as well, because otherwise, nothing was happening. Their course towards the north end of the Marshall Islands, between Toongi and Bikar, took just over a week. Nothing was spotted, and nothing was encountered. It was if they were on the very edge of the world, staring into an endless void of ocean and sky.

It was difficult to maintain attention for endless hours under a beating Pacific sun, so Captain Kadoe resorted to the occasional drill to change things up. By this point, the men would never admit to it, but some of them actually looked forward to it to change things up. Though as the Marshals approached (at least, according to the navigator's plot board, it was), the men felt a bedrock of tension that would not break, no matter how they tried not to think of it.

Captain Kadoe himself, when standing watch above, in those contemplative moments while surveying his own assigned part of the sea and sky, would be reminded of famous lines from past stories and poetry. He hardly ever shared such knowledge with anyone, since it was not seen in the best of light (a Naval officer into poetry and Japanese women? A courts-martial was sure to follow). At one point, despite being in the middle of December, one had to avoid touching the metal of the bridge or otherwise risk burning oneself. An eternal summer, and an endless horizon of eternal waters. He struggled to recall a poem by Lord Byron...a side effect of a classical education before the Naval academy, one that helped stick anything sea-related to his mind.

The Wanderer was alone as heretofore,
The beings which surrounded him were gone,
Or were at war with him; he was a mark
For blight and desolation

He sighed, took a deep breath, and tried to think of something else, but it was mind-numbing. He'd been up and awake, maintaining an omnipresence pretty much the entire period they'd been at sea; his Executive Officer had hinted more in the last few days that the skipper should get some rest. Kadoe had only been in his rack perhaps two hours out of every day, probably from excitement and anticipation more than anything else, but it was starting to catch up with him. The sounds of the sea and the gentle rocking didn't help; that was the other odd thing, he thought, that they'd been blessed with calm seas thus far, all the way here.

Which meant, of course, they'd probably hit a typhoon on the way back.

If we make it back, his mind warned.

Captain Kadoe shook his head, as if wiping away the thought. Getting into that rut could be dangerous.

Now, a bit later, he'd just gotten up after yet another solid hours of sleep and looked at the old clock on his narrow desk, next to his bunk – 0954. He was taking the watch over at 11, but he went ahead and got up; it would be pointless to toss and turn. Two hours would have to do, yet again.

He ran a small amount of tinny water from his sawed-off sink to splash on his face, do a quick shave, then donned his uniform and grabbed his binoculars – a present from Sachiko before he last left, bringing a flood of memories from those moments which caused him to hesitate with a smile on his face, then fixedly opening and stepping out of the hatch to his small cabin. One of the things she'd found endearing about him was that love of poetry he had, something he didn't like admitting to himself. He might as well have admitted he wanted to do Shakespeare in the park and give up his Naval career. Sachiko was, fortunately, eminently understanding and encouraging, not to mention more curious than he when it came to literature.

He walked a short distance to the control room and acknowledging the call from the Chief that the captain was present. Kadoe did not hesitate to climb up the ladder through the conning tower to the bridge of the ship.

The day was somewhat overcast, but still bright, light shining down on the sea like cracks in a sun-facing window. Visibility was good, but there was nothing to see. The ocean stretched out impossibly far in all directions.

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Ryfels, his XO, as well as four other lookouts, were present. Ryfels called out, "Captain on the bridge," but before he even finished, Kadoe told everyone to continue as they were. Kadoe didn't waste time bringing the binoculars to his eyes, scanning the sea as the others were doing.

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"Anything exciting, Tom?" asked Kadoe.

"Nothing, sir," his XO replied. "A whole lot of nothing. Devaney said he saw a whale near dawn, but that's it." His gaze lingered on his Captain a bit longer than usual, looking for signs of exhaustion that he surely must have felt – but he looked fresh and ready. He'd even shaved. Ryfels ran a hand absently over his own five-o'clock shadow self-consciously, sniffed with amusement quietly, and returned his attention to the horizon.

The day was darker than normal; the sea looked much more dangerous like this, not nearly as beautiful, as if it were coiling itself, preparing to strike. Bottomless, too, ensuring anything dropping into its depths might not ever touch bottom.

"Contact!" one of the lookouts up on the tower shouted. "Bearing three-one-zero!"

All other binoculars on the bridge immediately snapped in that direction. The ship was very difficult to see at this range, but if they could be seen...

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It was a convoy. Finally. After all this time...not just a single Jap ship, nor two, but a whole juicy convoy of them!

"Rig for dive! Man your battle stations!" said Kadoe, trying to keep the rising excitement from his voice and deliver orders in a business-as-usual tone. All men on the bridge immediately went down the tower hatch; Kadoe and Ryfels awaited them all to clear first. Ryfels went down next to last, followed by Kadoe.

Inside, the hatch was secured as Kadoe went down to the control room, where he immediately began snapping off orders.

"Make your depth seven-zero feet. All ahead one-third. Course three-one zero."

His orders were repeated the instant they left his mouth, and the Groghead sprang into action. A forward tilt to her deck came quickly as she began her dive. LCDR Kadoe and the other 87 officers and crew each spoke in their own silent way to anyone - or anything - listening, to give them good luck to see the surface again.

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The crew had been drilled so much and so quickly, that it was indeed becoming second nature. Most of them had no idea it was a real attack they were setting up for instead of yet another drill. Because of that efficiency, they reached a depth of 70 feet mere seconds later (something Kadoe reminded himself to compliment them on later), and the Captain asked for the periscope.

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A heartbeat or two passed as Kadoe moved the periscope barely back and forth, searching, and finding what he was looking for.

"There they are," he said. "Looks like the tail end of a convoy. More ships off in the distance, to starboard." He paused a moment, lining up his view on one particular ship. The three bringing up the rear of the convoy looked to be decent targets, and Kadoe hadn't seen an escort...though he was certain they were out there, somewhere.

"Bearing?" the Captain asked.

Ryfels looked at the periscope, reading off the bearing. Kadoe considered it...it wasn't the best set-up, but he figured they could work the angle.

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"Tail end of a large convoy. Three ships. Japanese, certainly. No esc...wait, no," Kadoe said, feeling a lump of bitterness rise in his chest. "One escort, a destroyer, a little further out. Other side of this group of three." He ordered the periscope lowered and issued a quick order to match the bearing and increase speed.

The Groghead barely turned, as she had already been heading almost directly towards the convoy just over the horizon, but they all felt her deck tremble with power as she accelerated.

A few tense minutes went by, and Kadoe called for the periscope again. This time, the ships snapped into view well; they were moving slowly, almost leisurely.

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"Same four ships. Three merchies, one escort. Some more masts on the horizon, but a lot further out. Down scope," he said, and headed to the chart table, where his other officers and the Chief gathered around him in the cramped space.

"They're here," said Kadoe, pointing to the map. "I think we need to take a parallel course here, get ahead of them, then come in at them."

Ryfels nodded, issuing the orders.

The crew by this point realized they were going after real, live targets, and Kadoe could see how well they gelled together as one...though he could easily read the anxiety on their faces as they did so. He tried not to think of his own countenance as they maneuvered into position. This was a lucky break - these Japs were out for a leisurely stroll almost, completely unafraid of American submarines or any enemy activity, this close to their own neck of the woods.

It was time to teach them the error of their ways, thought Kadoe darkly.

Let me tell you.  If Don Rickles was giving me the fish eye, I'd damn sure not mess up the approach.

December 23, 1941
Marshal Islands Operations Area
1134 Local Time

After a few hours of patient stalking beyond the range of the convoy's escorts, the Groghead was now approaching the convoy. Like a carnivore, the submarine slowly approached the back end of the lazy, straight-sailing ships. LCDR Kadoe had three enemy transports in his sights. After his XO, Ryfels, and another officer got on the periscope to corroborate the spotting, they all agreed that they had a large freighter, large passenger ship, and a smaller passenger ship present.

Kadoe looked around the cramped space, letting a smirk crease his features. "Lots of troops on those monsters. Plus their stores. Maybe a regiment or so. Let's teach 'em how to swim." He returned to the periscope, calling for the bearing. His XO read it off crisply.

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The men began to feel the pressure of their new reality. It was one thing to be underwater, relying on a submarine that was now a decade or so old and praying no leaks were sprung, maneuvering about in exercises against friendly ships, but it was quite another to actually aim and fire on an enemy combatant...one that could just as easily fire back. The week-plus of boredom punctuated by endless drills to get to this point, fueled by bad Navy coffee, strong cigarettes, and more than a little nervous energy, started to melt away now.

"Identification on the ships, skipper," said Ryfels.

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In-game, I rolled an '8,' which translates to a Convoy; it also has an Escort.

Now that I know what my submarine and crew are facing down, the game helps sharpen the view a bit more; I roll on another table to find out the general sizes of each ship; after rolling, we're looking at two large and one small target. That's great! Larger targets mean more tonnage.

Next, I need to determine the specific ships. Where possible, I looked up real-world information on each one, though it's difficult as some sites have a plethora of info but others, not so much (and sometimes I cannot even find the ship, especially if it's a numbered ship). Here's what I rolled up:

Large Passenger Ship Tatsutake Maru (7100t)

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Historically, she was sunk on May 11, 1943, by the USS Plunger, at 14-33N, 149-23E.

Large Freighter Banshu Maru No. 7 (5400t)

I cannot find a pic of this No. 7, but I can find a Banshu Maru No. 18, as well as a few other numbers, and they all look somewhat similar:

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The Banshu Maru No. 7 was labelled as a "crab tender," gathering food for the civilian population of the Home Islands. Likely, the Banshu Maru would be in this area of the Marshalls to fish the area and provide food for the local garrisons (I'm guessing, of course). Historically, this ship was sunk off the Kamchatka  Peninsula on July 2, 1943, by the SS-35 (SS-140).

Small Passenger Ship Shikisan Maru (4700t)

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She was torpedoed by the USS Drum (SS-228). She sunk in 90 seconds at 20-27N, 118-31E. She was carrying 3,300 tons of manganese, 3,000 tons of raw rubber, and 1,500 tons of general cargo. 11 crewmen and four passengers were KIA.

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The Groghead slowly approached the convoy's end, quietly issuing slight adjustments to course and, when the periscope was up, asking for updated bearings. The fire control party quietly conferred to update their data. Their officer in charge, LT Stagg, was also the 3rd officer and always pushing his teams to practice the calculations the fire control computer did, in their own heads, instead of relying on a machine.

In the back, LTJG Mirth, the Chief Engineer, kept his attention and his men's attention on the diesels. While running on battery power, the engine space was much quieter, which added a lot to the tension. They were determined to keep the diesels in top shape in case they were needed.

Slowly, the Groghead approached the minimum distance needed to fire their Mark-14 torpedoes, but Captain Kadoe wanted to get closer to the convoy, first. Close...but not too close.

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In game terms, your submarine can attack from Long, Medium, or Short range. Of course, the closer your sub is, the better chance you have of hitting. Long range is safer for avoiding Escorts, but gives you the smallest chance to hit your target(s). Short range exposes you to a Detection roll (and subsequent attack, possibly) before you can loose any torpedoes. Medium range is a...well, a happy medium. You have a decent chance of hitting, and don't have to worry about Escorts until after you fire.

I've decided to hedge my bets and fire all four forward torpedoes at the 7100t Tatsutake Maru. It's the biggest of the three and four torpedoes should give us a good chance of sinking her, even if the Mk-14 torpedoes suck eggs.

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Finally, the submarine was in a good position. Captain Kadoe ordered the periscope up again, checked the bearing for the dozenth or so time, and ordered the periscope back down. He issued orders to ready the four front torpedos. LT Stagg relayed the orders, and the crew communicated it to the forward torpedo room.

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The time slid by like molasse; Captain Kadoe stood there like a rock, staring at nothing in particular, counting the seconds off in his head with Swiss-like precision. The rest of the bridge crew barely held in their anxiousness, holding their breath as they waited for him to call out the orders.

"Up scope," he declared. Only a few seconds had passed since he ordered the torpedoes ready - which they were already, before the Captain even had to say anything - but it seemed like an eternity.

Once again, he looked in the periscope's viewpiece, and once again, he saw what he expected. The crew had lined up Groghead perfectly on the Tatsutake Maru.

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It was time.

"Down scope. Open doors on tubes one, two, three, and four," Captain Kadoe commanded in a quiet, yet firm voice.

"Torpedo doors one, two, three, and four open," replied the Fire Controlman.

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The tension rose as the men felt, rather than heard, all four of the torpedo tubes open, ready to deliver their deadly payloads upon the unsuspecting Japanese transports.

Captain Kadoe watched the clock intently, not trusting his internal one entirely, even if he could have counted off the time with his eyes closed.

"Fire torpedoes."

"Firing torpedo one. Firing torpedo two. Firing..."

The count went on, and with a woosh and a shudder, the Groghead unleashed the four Mark-14 torpedoes.

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The Mark-14 Torpedo was a terribly unreliable weapon early in the war, with many issues plaguing it. It was so bad that this was considered to be its own scandal within the U.S. Pacific Fleet's Submarine Force.

Inadequately tested, the Mark-14's magnetic exploder often would prematurely fire the warhead, exploding it well before it came near its intended target; if it didn't explode prematurely, it would sometimes not explode at all, rewarding the listening submariners with a 'clang' of a metal-on-metal impact, but no explosion. Sometimes, it would miss entirely, often running around ten feet deeper than it was supposed to. The worst thing that the Mark-14 could do, by far, would be its running "circular" and coming back to hit the submarine that fired it.

It took nearly two years before the Bureau of Ordinance (BuOrd) released the Mark-18 electric torpedo, but the -14 continued to be produced throughout the War, albeit with later improvements. Its failures early on, though, caused many victories to slip through the fingers of submarine commanders across the Pacific.

In Silent Victory, this is translated into a 'dud roll' on one d6. A roll of 1-4 is a dud, while 5-6 means it explodes properly.

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As soon as the torpedoes left their tubes, Ryfels clicked an accompanying stopwatch, eyeing each one carefully. The ticking stopwatches were loud enough to be heard in the silent control room, once the loud woosh of the torpedoes leaving their tubes subsided. Each man aboard did their best to will the torpedoes into the enemy ship – but also to do so right under the nose of the accompanying destroyer, which would no doubt be out for blood if the submariners did their job well enough.

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The seconds ticked slowly by. Captain Kadoe kept the Groghead on course, in case a follow-up attack was needed, but ordered the submarine's speed slowed in case they needed to high-tail it out of there, keeping as much space as possible between them and the enemy Escort.

"Coming up on impact," said LT Ryfels unnecessarily, more so to relieve some of his own tension.

To punctuate his sentence, a distant thud echoed through the submarine, which caused several heads to swivel uncertainly to look at each other - was that an explosion? they silently asked, but they all knew it wasn't. They'd live-fired the torpedoes before, and knew what it sounded like - it should have been a lot louder.

The initial thud was quickly repeated two more times.

Duds. Kadoe knew it, as did Ryfels. They shared a grim glance. Three hits and no explosions.

The fourth came quickly, but this one was much louder, more vibrant, making most of the men in the submarine jump. They thought the first three were actual explosions, but this was an actual, bonafide hit; there was no doubt of that!

"Duds," said Kadoe. "Goddamn duds, three of the four." The crew hadn't heard the Captain curse before.

"Up scope. Fast!"

As the periscope rose, Ryfels said, "At least one exploded, thank goodness."

Kadoe remained silent, taking a fast look. A funnel of water and the aftermath of an explosion - a small one - was just starting to spend itself, and the big freighter started to lean in and slow down almost immediately. But, she wasn't sinking, and there were no secondary explosions. Kadoe wasn't certain, but guessed that the ship was heavily damaged, but wouldn't sink.

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While we fired four torpedoes, three of them were indeed duds. One actually exploded, thank goodness.

However, even with that we are unlucky; I rolled 2 damage. The Tatsutake Maru needs 3 points of damage to sink, so she's hurt, but not going down.

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Kadoe stepped away from the periscope, offering it to his XO, whom quickly looked. He stepped back, and the periscope went down.

"Active pings, skipper," said the sonar man excitedly. "That Escort is coming our way!"

"It might be the first, but it hopefully won't be the last," said Captain Kadoe in a sideways admonishment. "Make your depth one-five-zero feet," said Kadoe. "Heading one-eight-zero."

"I don't think we got her, sir," said Ryfels. Kadoe only nodded in response.

The pings got louder as the submarine went down; she noticeably creaked loudly under the increased pressure of the depths. More than a few eyes looked with fear to the popping sounds the hull made. Kadoe would have done the same - he'd never gotten used to the sound - but did his best to ignore it and the hundreds of thousands of tons of water surrounding his men now.

Finally, the submarine reached its ordered depth.

"One-five-zero feet, Captain," came the answer. They'd dived quickly and were pretty close to the Groghead's test depth.

"Sonar, report," said Kadoe.

"Rough sounds from 270, sir. No breaking up or secondary explosions."

"Does the destroyer have us?"

A brief pause; Kadoe wondered, but the pause was a good indicator they'd avoided it.

"No, sir. They're searching north and west of us. They're looking in the wrong place."

Relief flooded the control room, but Kadoe was quick to remind them of why they were out here. "Come right, two-seven-zero."

"We going after her, sir?" asked Ryfels hopefully.

"Yep. Let's finish off the wounded animal. Let the others go for now."

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I might be quoting the rules incorrectly, but if you damage a transport in a convoy, you can automatically follow it. Normally, if you miss and do no damage, you have to roll to see if you can continue following the ship(s). In this case, though, we can follow them. I'll be damned if we're going to let this damaged ship get away!

I do have to re-roll for the Escort, though, and of course it still is - the Japanese Escort is not going to leave this ship to the wolves!

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The Groghead moved purposefully westwards, back towards the tail end of the convoy, which was now going at high speed in different directions, fearing another submarine attack. When Groghead returned to periscope death, they could see the Tatsutake Maru limping along as best it could, still under its own power. While one destroyer was still pinging away madly to the north, another one had slid next to the stricken ship and was escorting her closely.

Kadoe said all this out loud as the periscope came back down. It had been easy to follow the damaged ship – it couldn't go far.

"Torpedoes reloaded, skipper," said the torpedoman from up front.

"Understood," replied Kadoe. Then to the control room, "Let's line up on that ship and finish her off. But, let's use the aft tubes this time."

They ran the numbers, moving into an attack position quickly. Soon, both tubes were open, and Kadoe was giving the order to fire.

Both Mk-14s slid quickly with a woosh out of their housings, sending a shiver of release through the submarine. Stopwatches started with each firing, and the time was tracked meticulously.

The time passed...and passed.

"It should have hit by-"

A boooooom, loud and deep, spread like a bloom through the ocean and washed over the Groghead's steel hull. That was an explosion – but, just one.

"Another impact?" asked Kadoe, in case he'd missed it. His XO shook his head 'no' in response.

"Up scope," he said again. He looked just in time to be greeted by a massive secondary explosion. There was no doubt that the enemy ship was done for.

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The Tatsutake Maru had blown in half, with the aft half burning fiercely; the forward part of the ship was gone, either disintegrated or under the waves already. They were in for it now, because the Japanese Escort was turning fast and heading their way.

Kadoe stepped away, and Ryfels took a quick look through the periscope himself, nodding with approval. The Groghead had scored its first kill of the war!

The Captain, though, didn't cheer along with the rest of the crew. Once the initial subdued shout of joy finished, Kadoe gave immediate orders to lower the periscope and submerge deeper, turning away from the dead ship. They managed to elude the first destroyer rather easily, and this time, the pursuing destroyer didn't even come close. The Groghead was out of the woods, but the convoy they attacked would be well out of reach by now.

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I fired both of our aft torpedoes at the stricken ship, hoping it would be enough. I really didn't want to waste another four torpedoes on what needed only 1 damage point to sink. If we missed this, I think we could have continued again, but it would have been a bad thing as we'd already have expended six torpedoes of our starting 24 total.

One of the two torpedoes was, of course, a dud, but the other one luckily exploded and did four damage points, ergo the 'disintegration' description. I think the ship we sunk was used, at the time, as an ammunition carrier, so it stands to reason it would have virtually disappeared in a massive explosion.

We've also been very lucky so far, in that both Detection rolls were passed (and with flying colors, I might add). The Japanese Escorts, in both cases, completely missed us. I know we got lucky, and this luck might not last for long.

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An hour later, after ensuring they'd avoided pursuit, the submarine returned to periscope depth. The captain took a look around, saw it was clear, and ordered the Groghead to surface and watches to stand. The routine of patrol was back, though the crew were beside themselves, and the Chief couldn't wait to get his wife back at Pearl to sew a small Japanese flag on their ship's flag.

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Until then, though, there was more patrol territory to go through.

The Groghead sailed on.

This is really impressive! Very nicely done.  O0

Thank you, sir!

I plan on incorporating more of the game's graphics in the upcoming posts, to help better illustrate gameplay.

In my youth, I was fascinated by the US submarine war during WWII, to the extent that I seriously considered trying to get into subs once I was out of HS. My great uncle, who was a retired USN Commander and ASW pilot during WWII, while enthused at me wanting to join his service never seemed to encourage my interest in submarines. I thought it was because he was a naval aviator. Then I hit 6'2" as a Junior in HS and realized that I probably wouldn't be a good fit for most boats.

I kind of lost interest after that, but this AAR makes me remember everything I loved about them. Makes me wish I still had my model of USS Growler!

December 27, 1941
Somewhere in the Marshals
1755 Local Time

It took some time, but the crew of the Groghead had wound down off of their high of sinking the Tatsutake Maru and the prospect of not returning to Pearl Harbor empty-handed, by later that same evening. Some were still griping about the three duds from the first run, and Captain Kadoe couldn't agree more, yet remained silent. Or at least, more silent, after the string of expletives that had escaped his usually quiet lips upon their missing the Japanese ship.

Though, as none of the crew could possibly know, Kadoe had mixed feelings. Deep in his gut, he felt as if he was betraying the love of his life back home. The Groghead had just torpedoed and sent to the bottom, a rather large Japanese ship; they hadn't stuck around to count life jackets or lifeboats, of course, but it stood to reason that dozens had probably been killed from their attack. Even though the memory of Pearl Harbor was fresh in his mind, his hatred was tempered severely by his beloved back in California. Though Sachiko certainly, and her immediate family to a lesser degree, wanted no part of militaristic Japan nor their designs on empire, it was one thing to speak out against it, but entirely another to kill their people in the name of war.

But that was the way of it, wasn't it? he'd thought, often. Just like his great-grandfather, serving in the US Navy back then, blockading Southern ports. His ship had sunk several commerce raiders trying to run out from Southern ports. His family knew there were relatives in the South, especially in Georgia, so they always wondered, though little was known of that part of the family. Very likely, they had died out with the Civil War.

He'd thought about it, dwelled on it, during some rather long and sleepless rack times. As the days progressed, though, and especially now that they were on station, it was becoming more difficult to allow himself to be distracted by such thoughts. They still came, like whispers on a fast wind, brushing across his mind as he tried to focus on something important. Kadoe fought back by diving more into his work, and felt more than a measure of relief due to that; he had a duty to perform, and he'd just have to work the demons out later...somehow.

A few days after their victory, the Groghead was starting to smell like a gym in the broiling equatorial sun, which had no use for the recently-passed Christmas and made men from the North pine for the days of actual snowstorms, something they'd learned to love as children but despised almost as much as the Japanese once it became their job to have to shovel it.

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In Silent Victory, you roll for each area you enter in your assigned Patrol region. In this case, I rolled a '5,' which results in "—(SJ)."

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'SJ' simply means that I need to re-roll...IF I have SJ radar present and working. Since this Narwhal-class boat does not have this radar, this is treated as no encounter, and the Groghead sails on to the third area.

This third area, though (as with most third areas in the game) requires TWO rolls, not just one.

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The USN had divided the Marshalls into five Zones, and they'd just sailed straight through the second one with not one encounter...not even a tropical bird. With one notch on their belt, the men were itching for more action, but it looked like the word had gotten out that an Allied submarine was in the area, so ships were scarce. Watches each day had nothing to call out, so Captain Kadoe once again started hitting the men with surprise drills, to keep things interesting.

He reminded the crew on Christmas Day, when the cook had broken out a stashed sugar supply and baked a small cake for the crew to share, that the Marshalls were an important staging area for the Japanese, and they had plenty of shipping moving through the area. They'd have their chance, and soon. And the Captain did his best to believe every word of it.

He tried not to think of Sachiko. He'd sent her a small package shortly before he'd left Pearl, though he addressed it to her father's farm and not the family name. There was no telling what would have happened to it, had he done that.

Two days...almost three, later...Captain Kadoe poured over the charts, wondering if they should try looping around and wait to see if anything came their way. Surely, he thought, with no traffic came no reports of submarines, and perhaps the Japanese would figure they moved on to greener pastures...

He discussed it with his XO, LT Ryfels, but they came to the conclusion that Kadoe knew well ahead of time that they would – to not push their luck, not on their first War Patrol. He instead allowed the navigators to continue their work in driving the Groghead through Marshall Islands waters, and hoped for at least one more victory before this Patrol ended...though part of his mind rebelled at the thought.

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Entering this third area, I have to roll twice.

The first roll results in an '8.' This means we've run across yet another Convoy. Kind of long odds to run against a Convoy twice (though I know nothing of the odds, so don't speak to me of them), but hey, more targets for us!

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More die rolls result in two Large Targets and one Small Target. From there, I go to the appropriate charts to see what we've found this time.

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"Contact is bearing 190, 4500 yards. Confirm multiple targets."

Captain Kadoe didn't answer, but none was expected. Everyone else remained focused on their own stations, while he tried to be aware of everything in the cramped space. Nothing was escaping his notice. The watch had seen the distant convoy some time ago, and Kadoe and crew had, with ease that came from endless hours of drill, slipped the Groghead beneath the surface quickly, efficiently, and most of all, quietly.

He hoped, anyway. But the convoy hadn't changed course or reacted in any way, except for a couple of half-hearted changes of heading that could hardly be counted as such. They were headed southeast.

"Still headed in the same direction?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes sir," came the answer. "Bearing 190, heading 175, southeast, estimated 8 knots."

Eight knots? A languid pace for merchies, but positively slow for warships. The Groghead was able to catch up, but only barely; the Narwhals weren't exactly speedsters, and going too fast meant making a racket that most of the Southeast Pacific could hear.

"Alright. Periscope depth. Let's take a look."

The Groghead had spotted the convoy three hours earlier in the distance, just over the horizon. Kadoe ordered the sub down to 120 feet and had the navigator plot a course to intercept it. They'd popped up once to periscope depth in that time, making sure they were on track. LTJG Besilarius, whom everyone just called "Lieutenant Bes" for short, had once again nailed the calculations.

Now, it was time to check again and see. Hopefully, Kadoe thought, they were coming up on the rear end of the convoy.

The scope came up, and the Captain peered expectantly through the viewpiece.

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Rolling on the T-chart tables, these are the results I got. Unfortunately I didn't write down whether they were freighters or not, but the ships' respective histories should speak to their functions.

Nichirin Maru No. 7 (5200t)
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Laid down in 1941, she was a "standard type ITM tanker." Historically, she wasn't completed until December of 1942 and was sunk in the South China Sea on 19 February 1944. It's interesting we're able to sink a ship that's not technically been built yet, but hey, this game is in a different universe!

Hokuroku Maru (8400t)
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Laid down and launched in 1930 as the third of six diesel-driven high-speed cargo ships. During the war, she visited just about every corner of the Empire and beyond, including being part of the Midway invasion force (she carried the 11th and 12th Naval Construction battalions), carried supplies and construction troops to Guadalcanal, visited Saigon, Singapore, and New Guinea, and many other locations. She was sunk on 18 March 1944 about 160 nm southeast of Hong Kong, by the USS Lapon.

Taijun Maru (2800t)
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This ship had been around a while; she was laid down and launched in 1918 as a cargo ship. In 1941, she was taken in to the IJN and designated as an auxiliary transport. While she was around in peacetime for a while, her war career didn't last long; her registration in the IJN was on 10 December. On 18 September she loaded 205 mines, along with torpedoes and spare parts and headed south the next day. She was then reported as leaving Rabaul on 8 April 1942. On 11 April 1942, in Lae Harbor, New Guinea, several Douglas A-20 "Havoc" bombers damaged her severely, leaving her useless. She was scuttled soon after.

I'm going to have the sub fire all six of her torpedoes at these guys – four forward, and two aft. There's a penalty involved with shooting all of them off, but why not. The main problem I have is, the dud chances are SO high with these bloody Mk 14s that I could fire all six, hit with all six, and conceivably not do a whit of damage.

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The Narwhal-class, in 1941, has four torpedoes up front and two in the back. In April of '43, she can be refit to have two more in each area. For now, we're limited to the tools we have to work with.

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"Here's the plan," said Kadoe. "Five for the big target. We'll fire all four front torpedoes at her, then do a 180, fire one more for good measure, and fire the last at the smaller target."

He paused, waiting, but his XO merely nodded at the orders. When Kadoe raised an eyebrow at him, looking for a response, the XO shrugged slightly. "Tough call, sir. If there's a tin can escorting, that's two sets of tracks they can use to zero in on us. Then again, we can't not take a shot at this convoy, even with these torpedoes."

Ryfels let the sentence hang in the stuffy air. It was crazy, and better suited for a cardboard-counter gaming environment than real life, but it might be just crazy enough to work!

It was daylight, so they'd of course remain submerged. Two concerns, though, floated through the Captain's mind...one, the seas were a little rough at the moment, and they could feel the Groghead manhandled by the ocean this close to the surface, and two, there was an escort nearby, though moving in the same direction as the convoy. That escort was actually sharp, sprinting to one side of the convoy, then floating to listen, then going back, taking breaks every so often and moving at the same slow pace of the convoy.

They were predictable, Kadoe thought. For now, anyway.

Kadoe hated waiting...absolutely despised it. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself calm as they approached the enemy convoy, but calm he remained. Everyone else fought their own anxieties, and while Kadoe had those same ones, he had a few more burdening him.

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I allocated five torpedoes for the Hokuroku Maru, and one for the Taijun Maru.

Of the five torpedoes I fire on the Hokuroku Maru, four miss. Of course. But, there is a penalty for attacking with both fore and aft, and to be fair, I missed two of the rolls because of that. But one hits! Though, the odds are against doing some major damage; the damn thing still needs to not be a dud.

Fortunately, it is not a dud, and I roll a '2' for damage, which is three hits – just enough to sink her! That's another 8400 tons added to Groghead's collection.

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The remaining torpedo goes after the Taijun Maru. I roll a hit, but then roll a dud, so nothing happens.

As Groghead finishes her run, the Japanese Escort comes after us. I just barely roll the needed number to avoid detection, so that was close...we just managed to evade a good depth chargin'.

We could try to follow the convoy, but I'm not going to push our luck. I'm good with our results so far and there's nothing really worth bagging versus the risk. Maybe we can find a better target in the remainder of our patrol.