Missing You : Chapter 3: Kate part 1
On board HMAS Anzac, Southwest of Bubyan Island, Persian Gulf, Late March, 2003
Mel Harvey climbed into her rack. "I hope to catch up with Rick next shore leave at Pongwe." Settling into her pillow, she remembered her last shore leave with Rick, a British Tornado pilot, and how wonderful it had been.
Paula Weatherill sighed. The mere mention of that shore leave was enough to bring to the fore memories of the most amazing time she'd had in a long time. Two nights in the luxurious Pongwe Beach hotel, Zanzibar, surrounded by pristine beaches, clear lagoons, palm trees and wall to wall guys.
Tying her boot lace up, Kate scoffed, as knew that wasn't going to happen. That idiot Bush was going to order the invasion very soon, and so it was unlikely they'd get leave anytime soon. The same would apply to Rick and to all the other guys they'd met as they were Coalition military. And unlike her cabin mates, she was just not interested in uncomplicated sex. Kate was just not that sort of woman, preferring to make love with a man she loved. Instead, Kate had taken in the sun, the unique culture and trying to catch up on her sleep.
Hearing Kate's response, Paula was worried for her friend. Kate still appeared not to be herself, having shown no interest in all the guys that so obviously wanted her on that beautiful Tanzanian island.
Paula remembered a time when Kate hadn't always been so serious. When they'd met at the JWAC course, Kate had seemed relaxed and very happy off duty, but that changed at the end the Navigation section. She'd become the complete opposite. Something had happened, but Paula had never found out what and whatever it had been it wasn't good. She recalled the horrible scenarios that had gone through her mind. She still had no idea why Kate had changed, and no amount of trying on her part had revealed the reason why. Kate had retreated into herself, the spark had gone and she'd thrown herself into the rest of the course even more and she'd rarely participated in any off duty activities. That state had continued on the Anzac. But like so many problems, Paula had and still suspected that it had something to do with a man.
Kate zipped up her overalls. "Paula, I'll see you later."
Paula smiled. "See you at one."
"'Night, Mel." Kate hurried off to the weapons bay.
Kate stared out into the pitch-black night.
The complete cloud cover blocked all the light from the moon and the stars, and with the completely calm sea and the ship running without navigation lights, it was difficult to pick up the horizon.
The constant low hum of the frigate's engines and her bow cutting through the sea were the only sounds to be heard.
The very early morning chill began to seep in to Kate's bones, and she was grateful for the heavy Kevlar jacket and helmet, but she wished she'd put on her jumper before coming on watch. Her hands rested casually on her Steyr's stock and trigger handles as she continued her rounds, checking on the deck lockouts to ensure that her watch lookouts stayed alert and focused.
With the threat of mines and suicide boats, the boss had ordered that armed lookouts to be posted twenty-four hours a day. The lookouts were half way through their watch and it was her duty to ensure they were still concentrating and to report any sightings or problems. Without night vision goggles, staring into the inky black darkness was difficult - it could either send the lookouts to sleep faster than any sleeping pill or it could make them hyper-vigilant, so they'd start seeing things that weren't there.
Kate scanned the area out to sea before she asked, "Anything to report, Boxer?"
"Nothing's out there, ma'am," Steve Tyson answered. His sentry arc hadn't even produced a ripple on the sea let alone an Iraqi boat or mine.
"Do you need a break?"
"No. I'm good."
"Okay. Carry on."
"Yes, ma'am," Steve replied, and then continued to watch the dark ocean in front of him.
Kate walked on a few steps, but then she stopped dead in her tracks.
A low hum of an engine had been carried on a gust of wind.
Steve had heard it too, his stance changed. Alerted, he pulled his rifle up to his shoulder.
Through her binoculars, she scanned the direction of the sound.
Steve shifted weight nervously, straining to see the threat. "Anything, ma'am?"
After a few seconds she barely saw the faint dark outline of a dhow. "There's a dhow heading our way. Stay alert, Boxer." Kate pressed her radio button to contact the Bridge. "X-ray four, this is bravo four."
No response.
Steve looked at Kate and both wondered what the Officer of the Watch was doing.
Kate repeated her call but again there was no response. Perhaps her radio wasn't working. "Try yours."
Steve tried three times but to no avail.
"Able, you have my permission to fire if the dhow comes to within two hundred metres. I'm going to the Bridge." The rules of engagement were clear, all on board understood them. They could protect the ship.
"Yes, ma'am."
Hitching her rifle over shoulder, she clambered up the ladder to the Bridge.
When she entered the Bridge, Kate was shocked to the core. The Officer of the Watch was fast asleep and she could see his radio had been turned down.
"Ma'am?" At the helm, Gino Ponopolous stifled a yawn. What was the sentry officer doing up on the Bridge? And then he muttered a few Greek swear words. Lieutenant Blair, the OOW, had fallen asleep and he hadn't even noticed. They were all tired but that was no excuse. Running his hand through his hair, he knew that both he and Blair were all going to be in a load of shit.
"Leader, where are the Nav and the RO?" Kate seethed.
"They went to get brews ten minutes ago, ma'am," Gino answered meekly.
"Ten minutes?" Kate shook her head, disgusted. With no time to admonish their unprofessionalism, she tracked the dhow on the EOD. It was now seven hundred metres away, sitting low in the water and looking very suspicious. Kate picked up the phone. "X, … Lieutenant McGregor. … Sir, we have a dhow closing on the starboard side. Nothing else on radar, sir … Hmmm … asleep … No signs that it's a fishing boat, sir. ... Yes, sir."
After the actions stations claxon rang out three times, Kate flicked on the ship's intercom. "Hands to action stations, hands to action stations, assume state 1 condition Zulu throughout the ship. Guns crews at the rush."
Confused, Rod Blair, the OOW, jumped up in the captain's chair. "What the hell?"
The boss and the X entered the Bridge at the same time as the RO and the junior Navigator. The two senior officers ignored the now sick looking OOW.
"Lieutenant?" Commander Aaron Ingram, the CO of Anzac, asked.
"Sir, the dhow is now five hundred metres off our starboard side. It's sitting low in the water, no fishing lines seen. No other radar contacts."
"X, acquire the target, but await my orders."
"Yes, sir." The XO, BenWertheim, quickly had the small wooden boat in their sights. "Target acquired, sir."
"RO, standard warnings now." Aaron clenched his fists behind him as he turned to face Blair. He was livid beyond words but now was not the time. "Lieutenant Blair, get off my Bridge."
"Aye, sir." With his shoulders slumped, Rod left the Bridge knowing his naval career was effectively over.
"No response, sir," TonyHandt, the RO, said.
"Lieutenant McGregor, return to your post." Aaron then added, "Report to me after your watch."
"Yes, sir." Kate left the Bridge and returned to the deck and her lookouts.
Without turning his attention away from the incoming dhow, Steve Tyson greeted her with nod. The dhow was looming large now. He'd seen their three inch gun aim at the Iraqi fishing boat. It wouldn't be long before it was toast.
Kate returned the nod but kept walking. Her lookouts wouldn't have heard the action stations call to keep the noise down but they'd have heard their rapid fire gun turn to starboard and would have heard the hatches open, the many boots clanging on the upper decks, and the machine guns loaded and cocked. Adrenaline would increase and so would their mistakes.
All the starboard lookouts were alert and seemingly watching their arcs, although Kate suspected their focus lingered on the dhow longer than they should.
The night sky lit up as the three-inch gun let off three rounds. The sound incredibly loud, as the deck shook beneath their feet, and smoke billowed, filling the air with the smell of cordite.
The dhow became nothing more than a floating mass of toothpicks.
The ship slowed down to investigate.
Kate continued to walk around to the port side to the next lookout. "Luke."
"Ma'am," acknowledged Luke Storey. He was disappointed that he missed the explosion, but hoping that he'd see it later on replay.
With the rounds still echoing in her head and her night vision ruined from the bright flashes of the gun fire, Kate had to squint to see anything. The wind picked up and was heading to port, making hearing anything difficult.
The approaching sleek black low boat slipped quietly toward the grey shape that the Iraqi marines hoped was an American ship. The three Iraqi marines expected to get untold rewards if they could successfully attack the mighty US Navy. The plan to use the other dhow as decoy had worked perfectly. The Navy ship had slowed to investigate the wreckage, allowing their smaller and quieter boat to approach undetected.
The Iraqi helmsman tied the wheel off, pointing their explosive laden craft amidships to the frigate, and then the two other marines helped him with his SCUBA tank. After offering a pray for success, the commander yanked the throttle forward as far as it would go and then joined his friends in the water to swim to safety.
The sound of a vessel revving its engine was unmistakable.
Alarmed, Kate pointed her weapon toward the sound. It was very close. When she saw the small long boat she swore, "Shit!"
Their three-inch gun couldn't fire that close.
Luke had heard the sound too and shouldered his light machine gun. "Fuck!"
"Fire!" Kate fired, aiming at the engine, quickly emptying one magazine, before reloading and continuing to pour fire onto the little boat.
Luke fired several long bursts before pausing to check the results. Firing again, Luke emptied his first magazine.
The little boat still closed on the ship.
The 50 calibre machine gun on the upper deck opened up too.
Splinters of wood from the deck splattered into the sea but the bullet-riddled boat hadn't slowed.
After reloading his magazine, Luke fired again.
Finally one of the many rounds found their mark.
The sudden blinding flash of the explosion was tremendous. Night turned into day for a second.
The heat and force of the blast shock wave tore into the sailors on the deck, hurling them off their feet and then violently backwards against the side of ship.
Hot shrapnel tore holes into the helpless sailors on deck and into the ship.
Silence followed.
Inside the frigate, sirens wailed.
tbc