We Were Soldiers
151. Under The Sea
Rule number one, don't panic. It's natural to want to hold your breath as you go under; don't. Keep your breathing slow and steady. Believe it or not, this is very mechanically simple equipment that is almost impossible to break under normal use. It's one of the safest things you can do, and considerably safer than jumping out of a plane with only a parachute attached to your back.
Bucky kept Kessler's words running through his mind as he put the mouthpiece of the rebreather into place and slipped the protective eyemask down to cover his upper face. His first few breaths through the equipment felt awkward and slow, and the way the mask pinched his nose closed was weird. But Kessler claimed most accidents happened because divers tried to breath through their noses and took in water, so they had to design the masks to prevent it.
Around him, the rest of the team were experimenting as well, while Kessler flitted between them like a mother hen worried she as about to send her little chicks off to their doom. They looked quite comical, in their black skin-tight wet suits complete with frogman flippers, but he refrained from making jokes because at the end of the day, he looked exactly the same. Steve was in his element, asking Kessler all about the equipment, how it worked, what to do if something went wrong, how long the man had been using it for, how long men normally trained with the rebreather before putting it into practice… it was a shame the Foley hadn't held a stars-and-stripes wet suit for him, but it might have looked out of place without the shield. That particular item would be staying behind on this mission, since anything that might impact the sub with force was a potential breach risk, and Steve hadn't figured out how to throw the shield gently yet.
Kessler finished adjusting Gabe's mask and stopped in front of Bucky again. "How are the practice breaths going, Sergeant? Everything okay there?"
He gave the thumbs up to indicate that he was ready and happy that he wasn't gonna drown as soon as he entered the water. The rest of the team gave their thumbs up one by one. Jacques seemed surprisingly eager to get going, whilst Monty's face was a shade or two whiter than usual. Poor guy. Happy to throw himself out of a plane, but dreading dipping his toes into the sea. His adventurous spirit was sadly absent today.
Bucky had read a lot of Jules Verne novels as a kid, and his excitement over this mission was palpable. More and more people were flying, not just in the war, but as a means of travelling to distant places. Some people, like Stark, even owned their own planes. Or multiple planes, his Howard's case. So it was becoming an almost commonplace thing now, and these days almost nobody batted an eyelid if they heard a story about somebody taking a ride on an airplane. But how many people could claim that they'd had the opportunity to dive deep beneath the sea? To breathe air whilst exploring a whole new underwater world? Wells was definitely gonna be envious when he heard about this. Or maybe not. The rebreather mask was a little claustrophobic, and Kessler said it got dark down there, on account of the sunlight only reaching so far below the surface. A whole new world. And they were heading towards a real, honest-to-God submarine! It would be just like Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Seas, only, they weren't travelling quite that far. It was too bad Freddie wasn't here. For once, he wouldn't have minded getting his picture taken. He might never get another opportunity like this. Still, if the sub could be salvaged, maybe he could 'suggest' to Phillips that Freddie take pictures to document it all once it was in port. And if Bucky just happened to be there while Freddie was doin' it, and accidentally got his photo taken in the process… well, that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe he could even find a way to get it past the censors and send it home to his mom and dad.
"Seems you're all good to go," Kessler said at last. "Remember everything that I've told you. Breathe normally. Don't panic. And report back within six hours or you'll be buried in a watery grave. Good luck, Captain."
It was not the most encouraging of pep talks, but their time was already ticking. Steve was the first one to the side of the ship, and was already halfway down the ladder when Bucky peered over the side. Captain America could be such a show-off, at times. It was a good thing Steve Rogers was as humble as they came, to offset it.
He hopped over the side after Jones and began the climb down the ship's side. I can't believe I'm going diving in the ocean. I can't believe I'm going diving in the ocean. I can't believe… how cold it is! Shit!
As he lowered himself further, the waves lapped at his calves, then his thighs, then his waist and finally his chest. He'd been in cold water before; the glacial lake in Italy was still painfully clear in his mind. But this was a different kind of cold. A deep, pervasive, bone-crushing cold that he instinctively knew would kill him if he let his guard down for even a minute. The wet suit didn't seem to offer any warmth at all. It was a good thing there were no nurses around who needed him to cough, because they would've been hard pressed to find anything to put their hands on.
The frog-like flippers, such a hindrance on land… were also a massive hindrance in the water as he bobbed up and down at the surface. He tried to kick his feet like he was swimming, but the fins wouldn't bend like his ankles wanted them to, which resulted in him being rolled onto his back. He righted himself and tried again, with the same result. In fact, all around him, the team was floundering. Rolling onto their backs, listing heavily to one side, and in Monty's case, being upside down at one point. Maybe that was what had happened to the U-boat: somebody had tried to fit a pair of frogman flippers onto it.
"You're doing fine," Kessler shouted from above. "Everybody struggles at first, but it does get easier. Keep going; you're on the clock."
Maybe it was a good thing Freddie wasn't here after all. The kid would've been killing himself laughing over this.
The two-hundred metre surface swim to the submarine seemed to take forever. Why was it so hard? He was a strong swimmer. The flippers ought to make things easier. So what was he missing? There must be some knack to it. Some method of kicking out that he hadn't been able to grasp yet. But at least he was in good company. Even Steve was swimming at a snail's pace… just a slightly faster snail than everyone else.
As the team assembled at the U-boat's belly, currently pointing towards the sky with blatant disregard for how U-boats ought to be, Steve spit out his rebreather's mouthpiece to address the team. "Remember," he called, over the sound of the ocean lapping against the sub, "we don't know what's down there. Keep your guard up. Stay behind me until we've established a safe zone at the entrance. If you feel like the ocean is too much, just come back up to the surface." Bucky nodded, as did everyone else. "Alright. Then let's dive."
Steve put his rebreather back into his mouth, seemed to take an unnecessarily deep breath, then dove beneath the surface of the sea. Not to be so easily outdone by a guy who had only read one Jules Verne novel—and Around The World In Eighty Days, at that—Bucky took an unnecessarily deep breath out of habit and followed his best friend down into a whole new world.
It was murky. He'd been swimming in pools and in rivers many times, and in a glacial lake once, and this was nothing like any of that. When he thought of water, he thought of it like what came out of the tap at home, a sparkling and clear thing that distorted light like glass. The sea, or at least this sea, could not have been more different. It wasn't the crystal clear water that he drank. It wasn't the bubbling rivers or the frigid glacial lake. It was a murky greenish-blue-brown, an endlessly dense chasm of liquid that felt… heavy. That was the only word he could put to it. The water here is heavy. It didn't so much support him, as press in on him from all directions. And that was maybe just a tiny bit unsettling.
He lost sight of Steve within seconds, but he kept the side of the sub to his left, following it down, allowing the curve of the U-boat to lead him to its underbelly—technically its top-side. Down here, the flippers were easier to use. The surface, which had been so difficult to navigate before, was well behind him now. He focused on his breathing. In through the mouth, out through the mouth. It went against everything he'd been taught by his dad, who was a firm believer that you couldn't punch properly if you couldn't breathe properly, but it was how the rebreather worked. Breathing, as it turned out, was an extremely inefficient way of existing. The body exhaled a goodly portion of the oxygen it inhaled, which was why CPR worked, and how the rebreathers operated. Why would God create something so imperfect?
As he descended, he looked around. In his mind, the ocean was like the forests of the world above; a verdant garden teeming with greenery and life, of fish that schooled as the birds above flocked, of aquatic plants that grew as tall as redwoods and were as prolific as dandelions, of the seals and sealions, starfish and seahorses, dolphins and porpoises that he had read about and seen in aquariums back home.
The reality was a massive disappointment, an expanse seemingly devoid of life. What few strands of kelp reached this height were brown, leathery-looking things that appeared to be drifting like flotsam as a dandelion seed might drift on the wind. No seals frolicked. No seahorses galloped by. The schools of fish were absent. He saw nothing, not even a single crab. The only thing out here was the U-boat, and the rest of the Commandos. Jules Verne would have been terribly disappointed.
The water grew heavier.
At the sub's dorsal section he reached out his gloved hand and ran his fingers over the hull. Foolish to think he could feel anything through the rubbery material, but at least it was something real. An invader in this underwater realm it may have been, but it was something for him to focus on. It was said that sound travelled differently through water than air, that it went much further, so as he continued kicking his feet, impelling himself forward, he listened. His own movement was the loudest thing in his ears, the rush of water passing him by, the kick of his flippers, the bubbles of air that occasionally escaped his wet suit. The rebreather was efficient, recycling his exhaled oxygen, preventing tell-tale bubbles from being emitted.
BANG!
He stopped kicking. That sound… had it come from inside the U-boat? Was it one of his teammates, accidentally bumping into the sub? Maybe a piece of driftwood impacting the hull further away? Or maybe Steve, trying to access the entry hatch?
Closing his eyes, he pressed his ear against the sub's exterior. Nothing. All he could hear was the quiet rush of water. Perhaps it really was unmanned. Or a ghost ship. All hands lost at sea.
No. That was bullshit. The kinda thing Wells might conjure to scare him. Or Tipper might invent to pass time in a foxhole. The tale of the cursed sub. Might even be a best seller, if someone were to write about it.
Something tapped his shoulder, and he very nearly screamed. Just in time, he remembered to keep his rebreather clasped within his lips. He turned, expecting to find an octopus or something equally horrifying attacking him. But it was only Monty, and he was pointing to something further down the sub's hull. Heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, he followed the major forward.
Steve was already waiting. Of course he was. Steve hadn't stopped to listen to the sub and have idle flights of fancy about dolphins and starfish, had he? No. Steve was doing the job he'd been sent to do because they were on the clock. Even if they weren't on the clock, what kinda idiot expected to see seals and squid in a place like this? It was really fuckin' cold. Cold and dark and gloomy and awful. This place was England's moors. It was like Plymouth, except at sea. No, the seals and dolphins and starfish were probably all in a different ocean, somewhere nice and warm and relaxing. Like Bermuda.
As the last of the team arrived, Steve gestured to something in front of him. At the side of the hatch was a lever, and a round hatch wheel that needed to be turned to release the pressure. In an emergency, the sub could be opened from the outside; very likely, nobody ever assumed this would need to be done while the vessel was upside down, but there was a first time for everything.
Kessler had already given them instructions on how to access the sub. First turn the wheel anti-clockwise as far as it will go to release the locking mechanism. Then pull the lever upwards to disengage the seal. After that, it's just a matter of pulling the hatch open. Because you'll be working against the pressure of the ocean, you'll need to give it a bit of welly.
Unease made a home in Bucky's chest as Steve turned the hatch wheel. He had visions of water rushing in as soon as the door was opened. Morita had already asked the question. What's stopping the ocean from just flooding in once the door's open? I'm no scientist, but I do remember from school that fluids like to flow from high concentration to low, and unless we're real unlucky, there shouldn't be any ocean already inside that sub, right?
Kessler had an answer for that too. Hydrostatic pressure. Don't worry; so long as the sub is upside down, the water won't be able to get in. However, don't even think about trying to right the vessel until that external hatch is fully closed and locked in place, otherwise you'll have problems.
Which left just one potential hiccup, voiced by Jones right before they climbed down into the ocean. What if there's no air in there? If it's all just done remotely, or if the crew used up all the air before they died… what then?
Kessler didn't miss a beat. Your rebreathers will work as well out of water as in. But the sub is still afloat; that means it has atmosphere of some sort. If you can get it started, the CO2 scrubbers will kick in.
Despite all of his assurances, Bucky wasn't convinced. Because every mission they went on went sideways in some respect, something had to go wrong on this one. Unfortunately, something going wrong on this mission meant potentially being trapped in a watery grave until their rebreathers stopped rebreathing and suffocated them to death. Yeah, Wells was definitely not going to be envious over this.
When the hatch-wheel would go no further, Steve tackled the lever. It seemed to give him a little trouble, but with a little extra effort, he managed to slide it into its upward position. Finally, he put his hands on the door handle, and pulled. Open Sesame! Bucky thought.
Nothing happened. Steve pulled again. Then he made a great show of pulling really really hard. Finally, he shrugged. Steve - 0, Ocean - 1. Bucky swam forward to help out, as did Dugan. It was gonna look really, really bad if they had to swim back up to the surface and report they couldn't open the door. What would they do then? Jacques' explosives wouldn't work underwater, and whatever depth charges were, were probably too heavy-handed for something so precise as opening a door.
Steve raised his left hand and help up three fingers. Bucky nodded. Two fingers. One finger. Now. Bucky pulled, every muscle in his arm straining against the force of the ocean, his legs complaining as they braced against the side of the sub. He felt movement. The door opened by a hair, and he increased his efforts until he thought his arms were gonna pop out of their sockets. He gritted his teeth, which broke the seal his lips made around his rebreather, then quickly unclenched his jaw before water could come rushing into his mouth. Stupid ocean. He wasn't even in the sub yet and it was already trying to kill him.
The others must have redoubled their efforts too; the door opened a fraction more, and suddenly it was as if all resistance was overcome, and it became so light that even a child could've done it. The sudden loss of resistance unbalanced them all, and they went tumbling backwards through the water. None of the others laughed. Not just because it would've resulted in them breathing in water, but because anything that needed the three strongest members of the team to overcome it deserved to be respected.
With the hatch now open, they all swam over to take turns at peering inside. If the ocean was murky darkness, then the sub was darkness incarnate. Like Alice looking down the rabbit-hole, the way ahead was nothing but pitch black.