War Diary, SS-290

krashkart · 03-09-12, 09:48 AM

June 10, 1943

1608 hrs. Approx. 225nm northeast of Wake we dive for a quick hydrophone sweep. Sonar guy informs us of multiple contacts, probably warships. Are the Japs coming? We resurface and sail toward them, hoping we can spot them before they spot us. Turns out to be one of our task groups. They're headed in the opposite direction, probably back to Pearl. Three big carriers, a couple of Bogue, two heavy cruisers and an assortment of destroyers. They look healthy, so they must not have found anything out there. I think we'll tag along for a little while before continuing our transit.

krashkart · 03-14-12, 09:15 AM

August 3rd, 1943

"It was the strangest thing. When I woke up the cockpit was filling up with water. I was still strapped in, and both my legs hurt like hell. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew that I needed to get out fast. Then somebody climbed up on the wing. I heard their boots on the metal and looked over... and I kid you not, there was this Jap pilot looking right at me."

He paused for a moment. We all kept silent. I looked around the compartment, noticed a myriad of expressions on the faces of my sailors. Our youngest, Johnathan, could barely contain himself. I caught his attention, gave him a stern look and shook my head. Not a split second later he had his game face back on -- barely. (Boy still needs to learn a few things... plenty of cleaning to do around the boat, I suppose)

The pilot continued, "I managed to get unstrapped, and by that time I was up to my neck in water. The plane was going under fast and my legs wouldn't move. The Jap, he pulled me out. I don't know why he did that. We're enemies, right? Us and the Japs. But he pulled me out anyway and inflated my vest. I must have blacked out again after that. When I woke up he was gone. All I saw was your guys hauling me up out of the ocean."

We didn't see the plane go down, but the watch caught a glimpse of smoke on the horizon. I decided to turn the boat around for a better look. As we maneuvered closer we saw the pilot held afloat in his Mae West. We pulled up alongside and hauled him in. He was unconscious and in bad shape. His face looked as though he'd lost a bare-knuckle prize fight, and both of his legs were broken. His left leg had taken the worst of it -- two fractures and three inches of bone sticking out above the ankle. I doubt he'll fly again.

It's been twelve hours since we picked him up, and the pilot has come to. As he recounts his brush with fate I get the impression that he blacked out at some point while flying a patrol. He is one lucky guy to have survived. The part about the Japanese pilot, though... that has me wondering. It wasn't much more than a year ago that they tried to take Midway, and I imagine they lost a fair sum of aviators. But my guess is that he got himself out of that airplane, probably hallucinating from shock. Then again, you hear some strange stories from time to time -- ghost ships and what have you.

His eyes are welling up with tears and he's starting to groan. He is certainly feeling the pain again. 'Doc' is administering some more pain killer to put his lights out for awhile longer. Midway is only 150 miles ahead of us now. We'll drop him off there and head back out toward our assigned patrol afterward.

krashkart · 03-16-12, 07:30 AM

September 23, 1943

Back at Midway. Several hundred gallons of pink paint sit on the dock next to us. We are under orders to repaint our boat before the next patrol. Not sure what this is all about. Somebody in charge obviously has a screw loose...

1530 hrs

I'm sending the guys on shore leave while I figure out what to do about our pink predicament.

September 24, 1943 - 0121 hrs

I was almost sold on the idea of repainting our boat. Almost. Hell, I'll do anything for my country! But when I walked back to our boat all the pink paint was gone. In it's place now are several hundred gallons of high-visibility yellow. That is the last straw! There is no way in Hell I'll be driving a yellow submarine! I have requested an immediate transfer to Fremantle, and I don't care if it gets turned down. We are breaking out of this loony bin!

.

Able Brown · 03-16-12, 05:09 PM

Quote:

Back at Midway. Several hundred gallons of pink paint sit on the dock next to us. We are under orders to repaint our boat before the next patrol. Not sure what this is all about. Somebody in charge obviously has a screw loose...

I saw that movie: Cary Grant, Tony Curtis...Operation Petticoat. For real? The game did that to you? If you're playing a mod, somebody's got a really strange sense of humor!

krashkart · 03-16-12, 06:20 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Able Brown

I saw that movie: Cary Grant, Tony Curtis...Operation Petticoat. For real? The game did that to you? If you're playing a mod, somebody's got a really strange sense of humor!

I took some artistic license with that entry.

03-09-12, 09:48 AM	#1
krashkart Navy Seal Join Date: Jan 2010 Posts: 5,292 Downloads: 100 Uploads: 0	War Diary, SS-290 June 10, 1943 1608 hrs. Approx. 225nm northeast of Wake we dive for a quick hydrophone sweep. Sonar guy informs us of multiple contacts, probably warships. Are the Japs coming? We resurface and sail toward them, hoping we can spot them before they spot us. Turns out to be one of our task groups. They're headed in the opposite direction, probably back to Pearl. Three big carriers, a couple of Bogue, two heavy cruisers and an assortment of destroyers. They look healthy, so they must not have found anything out there. I think we'll tag along for a little while before continuing our transit.

03-14-12, 09:15 AM	#2
krashkart Navy Seal Join Date: Jan 2010 Posts: 5,292 Downloads: 100 Uploads: 0	August 3rd, 1943 "It was the strangest thing. When I woke up the cockpit was filling up with water. I was still strapped in, and both my legs hurt like hell. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew that I needed to get out fast. Then somebody climbed up on the wing. I heard their boots on the metal and looked over... and I kid you not, there was this Jap pilot looking right at me." He paused for a moment. We all kept silent. I looked around the compartment, noticed a myriad of expressions on the faces of my sailors. Our youngest, Johnathan, could barely contain himself. I caught his attention, gave him a stern look and shook my head. Not a split second later he had his game face back on -- barely. (Boy still needs to learn a few things... plenty of cleaning to do around the boat, I suppose) The pilot continued, "I managed to get unstrapped, and by that time I was up to my neck in water. The plane was going under fast and my legs wouldn't move. The Jap, he pulled me out. I don't know why he did that. We're enemies, right? Us and the Japs. But he pulled me out anyway and inflated my vest. I must have blacked out again after that. When I woke up he was gone. All I saw was your guys hauling me up out of the ocean." We didn't see the plane go down, but the watch caught a glimpse of smoke on the horizon. I decided to turn the boat around for a better look. As we maneuvered closer we saw the pilot held afloat in his Mae West. We pulled up alongside and hauled him in. He was unconscious and in bad shape. His face looked as though he'd lost a bare-knuckle prize fight, and both of his legs were broken. His left leg had taken the worst of it -- two fractures and three inches of bone sticking out above the ankle. I doubt he'll fly again. It's been twelve hours since we picked him up, and the pilot has come to. As he recounts his brush with fate I get the impression that he blacked out at some point while flying a patrol. He is one lucky guy to have survived. The part about the Japanese pilot, though... that has me wondering. It wasn't much more than a year ago that they tried to take Midway, and I imagine they lost a fair sum of aviators. But my guess is that he got himself out of that airplane, probably hallucinating from shock. Then again, you hear some strange stories from time to time -- ghost ships and what have you. His eyes are welling up with tears and he's starting to groan. He is certainly feeling the pain again. 'Doc' is administering some more pain killer to put his lights out for awhile longer. Midway is only 150 miles ahead of us now. We'll drop him off there and head back out toward our assigned patrol afterward. Last edited by krashkart; 03-14-12 at 10:52 AM.

03-16-12, 07:30 AM	#3
krashkart Navy Seal Join Date: Jan 2010 Posts: 5,292 Downloads: 100 Uploads: 0	September 23, 1943 Back at Midway. Several hundred gallons of pink paint sit on the dock next to us. We are under orders to repaint our boat before the next patrol. Not sure what this is all about. Somebody in charge obviously has a screw loose... 1530 hrs I'm sending the guys on shore leave while I figure out what to do about our pink predicament. September 24, 1943 - 0121 hrs I was almost sold on the idea of repainting our boat. Almost. Hell, I'll do anything for my country! But when I walked back to our boat all the pink paint was gone. In it's place now are several hundred gallons of high-visibility yellow. That is the last straw! There is no way in Hell I'll be driving a yellow submarine! I have requested an immediate transfer to Fremantle, and I don't care if it gets turned down. We are breaking out of this loony bin! . Last edited by krashkart; 03-16-12 at 08:20 AM.