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"I have a radar target at about five miles, probably a fishing vessel."
"And?"
"I'm waiting until I have him in sight until I do anything."
"There's some Corsairs overhead. I'll have them take a look, and advise."
"Roger, thank you. DeHaven DeHaven out." out."
0728 19 OCTOBER 1950.
Two Navy Corsairs approached the DeHaven DeHaven from dead ahead at less than a thousand feet, dipped their wings, and then began to climb. from dead ahead at less than a thousand feet, dipped their wings, and then began to climb.
0729 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"DeHaven, McKinley, the Corsairs report it's a junk. I think that they probably woke them up, and they'll get out of the way."
"Thank you, McKinley. McKinley."
0731 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"McKinley, DeHaven, I have the junk in sight. Unless they're blind, they have to see us, but they are not changing course. And it looks to me as if she's under power." I have the junk in sight. Unless they're blind, they have to see us, but they are not changing course. And it looks to me as if she's under power."
"Junks don't have power, DeHaven. DeHaven. They are propelled by what are called 'sails.' " They are propelled by what are called 'sails.' "
"Thank you so much."
"They'll probably get out of the way when they see more than one vessel headed their way. Advise."
"Will do."
0735 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"McKinley, DeHaven, my junk is not changing course." my junk is not changing course."
"Well, we don't want to run over him, do we? The admiral says to get him to change course."
"Understand. I'll make a run across his bow."
0741 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"McKinley, you're not going to believe this, but my junk just hoisted a large American flag. And she is not changing course." you're not going to believe this, but my junk just hoisted a large American flag. And she is not changing course."
"The admiral does not want the junk to approach the convoy."
"What am I supposed to do, fire a shot across her bow?"
A new voice came over the ship-to-ship.
"DeHaven, this is Admiral Feeney. If putting a shot across her bow is necessary, then that's what you should do." this is Admiral Feeney. If putting a shot across her bow is necessary, then that's what you should do."
"Aye, aye, sir. Sir, it is my intention to come alongside the vessel and signal an order to her to change course."
"Proceed," the admiral said.
0746 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"McKinley, DeHaven is alongside the junk. She is under power. A man in what looks like black pajamas has hailed is alongside the junk. She is under power. A man in what looks like black pajamas has hailed DeHaven DeHaven with a loudspeaker and says he is a Marine major named McCoy and desires to approach with a loudspeaker and says he is a Marine major named McCoy and desires to approach McKinley. McKinley. Request guidance." Request guidance."
"DeHaven, Admiral Feeney. The junk is not, repeat not, to approach the Admiral Feeney. The junk is not, repeat not, to approach the McKinley. McKinley. Take whatever action is appropriate." Take whatever action is appropriate."
"Aye, aye, sir."
[FOUR].
THE BRIDGE, USS MOUNT MCKINLEY MOUNT MCKINLEY (LCC-20) 39 DEGREES 34 MINUTES NORTH LAt.i.tUDE 128 DEGREES 43 MINUTES EAST LONGITUDE THE SEA OF j.a.pAN 0747 19 OCTOBER 1950 (LCC-20) 39 DEGREES 34 MINUTES NORTH LAt.i.tUDE 128 DEGREES 43 MINUTES EAST LONGITUDE THE SEA OF j.a.pAN 0747 19 OCTOBER 1950.
"I think I know who that is," Major General Edward M. Almond, USA, said to Rear Admiral Ignatius Feeney, USN.
"You what?"
"I suggest you give him approval to approach your ship," Almond went on. "It might prove very interesting."
"You're serious, Ned, aren't you?" Admiral Feeney asked, surprised.
Almond nodded. "Remember the islands in the Flying Fish Channel that were cleared before we got there?" he asked. "Unless I'm mistaken, that's the man who cleared them. OSS."
"OSS? Really?" Rear Admiral Feeney said. He reached for the ship-to-ship microphone. "DeHaven, "DeHaven, permit the junk to approach the permit the junk to approach the McKinley. McKinley."
Both Navy reconnaissance aircraft and minesweepers on the scene had reported that there were still enough mines in the approaches to the harbors of both Wonsan and Hamhung to preclude the movement of oceangoing vessels into the harbors.
The invasion fleet, both to conserve fuel and because there was no point in making speed when the antic.i.p.ated course for the next thirty-six hours was one large circle after another, was moving at ten knots.
Ten knots was still considerably faster than what Admiral Feeney-who, with General Almond, was now on the McKinley McKinley's flying bridge-understood the maximum speed of a junk under sail to be, and he was thus more than a little surprised when the junk approached the McKinley McKinley head-on, made a quick 180-degree turn, and then pulled alongside. head-on, made a quick 180-degree turn, and then pulled alongside.
"I'll be d.a.m.ned," Admiral Feeney said. "That junk is is motorized." motorized."
A man wearing black pajamas stood on the forecastle of the junk, holding an electric megaphone in his hand.
"Ahoy, McKinley. McKinley. Can you hear me?" Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," Admiral Feeney said into the microphone of his electric megaphone.
"I have three wounded aboard," the man in the black pajamas called.
"Including Major McCoy, apparently," General Almond said. "Look at his leg."
The left leg of the pajamas was torn off above the knee. A b.l.o.o.d.y compress was on the upper thigh.
"Is that your OSS man?" Admiral Feeney asked.
Almond nodded. "Admiral, you are looking at the legendary Killer McCoy, U.S. Marine Corps," he said.
"I don't want that junk crashing into the hull," Admiral Feeney said almost to himself, then took the few short steps onto the bridge.
"The admiral is on the bridge!" a talker called out.
Admiral Feeney approached Captain Joseph L. Farmer, USN, the captain of the McKinley, McKinley, and asked, "Have you a minute for me, sir?" and asked, "Have you a minute for me, sir?"
"You have the conn," Captain Farmer said to his executive officer, then followed Feeney out onto the flying bridge.
Admiral Feeney began, "The master of that vessel-"
"Jesus, he's been wounded!" Captain Farmer blurted.
"-reports that he has three wounded aboard. I was wondering what you think of lowering a lifeboat to the junk- not into the water-and transferring the wounded to the lifeboat from the junk as a means of getting them aboard."
"I think we can do that, sir," Captain Farmer said.
He went back onto the bridge.
A piercing whistle and then Captain Farmer's voice came over the ship's loudspeakers a moment later. "Attention all hands. All, repeat all, nonessential personnel will leave the port-side boat deck immediately. Port-side Lifeboat One Crew report to your station immediately. Medical Emergency Team report to port-side Lifeboat One immediately."
The captain came back on the flying bridge.
A much younger voice-that of the talker-repeated the orders he had just broadcast.
The admiral, the general, and the captain watched silently from the flying bridge as the port-side Number One lifeboat's davits swung the lifeboat away from the ship, and then-after an ensign and three white hats got aboard-lowered it slowly toward the sea.
When the lifeboat was even with the forecastle of the junk, the man with the bandage on his upper left thigh threw a line to a white hat in the lifeboat, who hauled on it and pulled the junk slowly sidewards to the lifeboat.
Five men in black pajamas, all Orientals, appeared on the deck of the junk, then began to move three wounded men up onto the forecastle. Two of them had to be carried. The third was able, with help, to make it up the ladder on his feet.
Balancing precariously on the forecastle, they managed to manhandle the two more seriously wounded men into the lifeboat. Then the man who could walk and finally the American jumped into the lifeboat.
The line holding the junk to the lifeboat was cut, and the junk's helmsman turned her away from the Mount McKinley. Mount McKinley.
Electric motors whirred and the lifeboat began to rise against the McKinley McKinley's hull, and then was swung inboard.
The American with the b.l.o.o.d.y compress on his thigh jumped to the deck first.
He winced in pain, saluted the colors aft, then an officer on the deck.
"Permission to board, sir?" he asked.
"Granted," the officer said, visibly surprised.
A Navy doctor and half a dozen Corpsmen began to take the wounded from the lifeboat and to place them on aluminum stretchers.
"How are you, Major McCoy?" General Edward M. Almond asked. "That is not pro forma. What's with your leg?"
McCoy saluted him.
"I took a piece of shrapnel, sir," he said. "I don't think it's serious."
"Take Major McCoy to sick bay," Almond ordered.
"Sir, with respect, I need to get a message off as soon as I can. Sick bay will have to wait."
"What sort of a message?"
"We lost our radios, sir," McCoy said. "I don't want them mounting a rescue mission when they don't hear from us."
Almond turned to Admiral Feeney.
"The Navy can accommodate the major, can it not?" he asked. "Admiral, this is Major McCoy."
"Welcome aboard, son," Admiral Feeney said. "If you're able to walk, I know the way to the radio room."
"I can walk, sir. Thank you."
McCoy gave the chief radioman the frequency, then eased himself into a plastic upholstered metal chair before a rack of communications equipment. The chief handed him a microphone and headset.
"Fishbase, this is Flying Fish," McCoy said into the microphone. "Fishbase, Flying Fish."
The reply came immediately: "Go, Flying Fish."
"Flying Fish is three clicks as of 0530."
"Understand three clicks as of 0530. What are your coordinates? "
"Aboard a Navy vessel at sea. If Bail Out is under way, cancel. If Bail Out is under way, cancel. Acknowledge."
"Acknowledge cancel Bail Out. Bail Out was just about to launch."
"Who is this?"
"Car Salesman."
"Killer here. Where Fat Kraut?"
"Sasebo."
"Say again?"
"Fat Kraut Sasebo. Big Daddy en route Sasebo."
"What's up?"