Read Online Ghostboat by George E. Simpson, Neal R. Burger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: George E. Simpson, Neal R. Burger
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eleven months as navigation officer. He was the only known survivor of the sinking, and it’s largely his report that makes up the history of the incident.”
“What happened to him? How did he get off the boat?”
“Washed off the bridge and busted up his knee just before she sank, picked up by a Japanese fishing boat within two hours, then delivered over to their Navy. He was put in with the surviving crew of an American destroyer, and they were all taken to the copper mines in Ashio. He worked there till the end of the war. They never took care of his knee, so all the time he spent in the mines the pain was so intense he could hardly walk.”
Cook and Frank went to their quarters aboard the Imperator and closed the door.
“Did he file reports on the sinking?” asked Frank.
“Yes. He was repatriated August of ‘45 and taken to a hospital at Pearl. Must have been there four, months while they worked over his knee. He was questioned repeatedly by SubPac and the Office of Naval Investigation, all preparatory to the Board of Inquiry. But on the subject of his competence as a witness, everybody wrote a different opinion.”
“Oh?”
“His story seemed to change a lot. He was unsure of the sequence of events and, in some cases, the events themselves.”
“What information did you get on the sub?”
“She went down at about 2130 on the night of 11 December ‘44. The approximate position was thirty degrees forty-nine minutes north and one hundred forty-six degrees thirty-eight minutes east. That’s based on her last reported position, speed, and direction. From all weather reports—ours and the Japanese—they were surrounded by calm seas and clear skies. But according to Hardy there was fog, thick as soup, and some kind of inexplicable heavy sea action.”
“Inexplicable?”
Cook skipped some papers in the folder and came to one and read: “ ‘Asked if the Candlefish came under attack on December eleventh, Lieutenant Hardy said, “No—no—no. She simply started shaking herself to pieces.” When asked what in his opinion had caused this, Hardy had no explanation.’“ He closed the paper and looked up. “The first few go-rounds, that’s the way all the interrogations went. They kept throwing suggestions at him, possible explanations, and he kept fielding them, insisting that there was rough sea and some kind of electrical thing going on.”
“Electrical?”
“Yeah, he reported that the antenna cables were all lit up like Fourth of July sparklers.”
“That doesn’t sound like anything to do with rough seas.”
“I know. That’s what I mean when I say his story doesn’t jibe. He jumps around from detail to detail, and you put all of them together—well, they just don’t make sense. It really sounds as if he had a bit of a trauma and afterwards couldn’t remember things properly.” Cook opened the folder again, pulling out another letter. “A supervising officer from ONI writes the following: ‘Further questioning led us to suspect Lieutenant Hardy had suffered delusions—either at the time the submarine was lost or later as a result of his treatment in the POW camp.’”
“Well, that’s just an opinion,” Frank said.
“Yeah, but everything from Hardy comes out as conjecture.” Cook flipped the page and read on: “ ‘On the fourteenth day of questioning, Lieutenant Hardy ventured a new theory and, when pressed, insisted on its validity. He theorized that the Japanese had developed an electromagnetic weapon powerful enough to pull a boat apart.’“
This time, even Frank frowned skeptically.
Cook skipped a few more pages in the file and continued: “ ‘During the Board of Inquiry, Lieutenant Hardy brought up this and other theories and, as he could not substantiate any of them, they were regarded as inadmissible evidence. In view of Hardy’s apparent unreliability, no further effort was made to investigate the matter.’”
Cook folded the file on his lap and waved a
“What happened to him? How did he get off the boat?”
“Washed off the bridge and busted up his knee just before she sank, picked up by a Japanese fishing boat within two hours, then delivered over to their Navy. He was put in with the surviving crew of an American destroyer, and they were all taken to the copper mines in Ashio. He worked there till the end of the war. They never took care of his knee, so all the time he spent in the mines the pain was so intense he could hardly walk.”
Cook and Frank went to their quarters aboard the Imperator and closed the door.
“Did he file reports on the sinking?” asked Frank.
“Yes. He was repatriated August of ‘45 and taken to a hospital at Pearl. Must have been there four, months while they worked over his knee. He was questioned repeatedly by SubPac and the Office of Naval Investigation, all preparatory to the Board of Inquiry. But on the subject of his competence as a witness, everybody wrote a different opinion.”
“Oh?”
“His story seemed to change a lot. He was unsure of the sequence of events and, in some cases, the events themselves.”
“What information did you get on the sub?”
“She went down at about 2130 on the night of 11 December ‘44. The approximate position was thirty degrees forty-nine minutes north and one hundred forty-six degrees thirty-eight minutes east. That’s based on her last reported position, speed, and direction. From all weather reports—ours and the Japanese—they were surrounded by calm seas and clear skies. But according to Hardy there was fog, thick as soup, and some kind of inexplicable heavy sea action.”
“Inexplicable?”
Cook skipped some papers in the folder and came to one and read: “ ‘Asked if the Candlefish came under attack on December eleventh, Lieutenant Hardy said, “No—no—no. She simply started shaking herself to pieces.” When asked what in his opinion had caused this, Hardy had no explanation.’“ He closed the paper and looked up. “The first few go-rounds, that’s the way all the interrogations went. They kept throwing suggestions at him, possible explanations, and he kept fielding them, insisting that there was rough sea and some kind of electrical thing going on.”
“Electrical?”
“Yeah, he reported that the antenna cables were all lit up like Fourth of July sparklers.”
“That doesn’t sound like anything to do with rough seas.”
“I know. That’s what I mean when I say his story doesn’t jibe. He jumps around from detail to detail, and you put all of them together—well, they just don’t make sense. It really sounds as if he had a bit of a trauma and afterwards couldn’t remember things properly.” Cook opened the folder again, pulling out another letter. “A supervising officer from ONI writes the following: ‘Further questioning led us to suspect Lieutenant Hardy had suffered delusions—either at the time the submarine was lost or later as a result of his treatment in the POW camp.’”
“Well, that’s just an opinion,” Frank said.
“Yeah, but everything from Hardy comes out as conjecture.” Cook flipped the page and read on: “ ‘On the fourteenth day of questioning, Lieutenant Hardy ventured a new theory and, when pressed, insisted on its validity. He theorized that the Japanese had developed an electromagnetic weapon powerful enough to pull a boat apart.’“
This time, even Frank frowned skeptically.
Cook skipped a few more pages in the file and continued: “ ‘During the Board of Inquiry, Lieutenant Hardy brought up this and other theories and, as he could not substantiate any of them, they were regarded as inadmissible evidence. In view of Hardy’s apparent unreliability, no further effort was made to investigate the matter.’”
Cook folded the file on his lap and waved a
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