Guest Author Linda Chism
Carol M Mottershead
Book Two of 'The Elixir Chronicles' by Carol M Mottershead 'SHIPS IN THE NIGHT'
I like to share writings by other authors whenever I can and Linda Chism is a Historical Fiction Author I met through my time with Bryan Cohen's Ad School. It's surprising who we meet through Ad School and I'm happy to pass on and introduce Linda to my own followers. Here's one of her recent 'free' short stories. I hope you enjoy...
The following is a fictional account based on a historical event, derived from the naval records of the USS Sandoval and the discharge papers of A J Taylor.
In the 42 years following his naval service, A J Taylor never spoke of his wartime experiences to his family. Perhaps the memories were simply too terrifying to contemplate. But hopefully this story personifies the service of every sailor aboard that valiant ship on May 28, 1945.
Terror Aboard the USS Sandoval
The teenage sailor gazed in horror as the tiny aircraft screeched across the morning sky. The young Japanese pilot, only a few years older than himself, had aimed his destructive machine directly at the wheelhouse of the USS Sandoval, sitting that morning in one of the fiercest combat zones of World War II. During the next few moments, the frightened sailor recalled the events that had brought him to this pivotal place in history.
A J had first heard President Roosevelt’s “day of infamy” speech as it had streamed across the Taylor family radio, detailing the violent deaths of over 2,500 of his fellow Americans. In patriotic zeal, his two older brothers had enlisted almost immediately in the U.S. army, moving quickly to fight in the European theater. Even his sister, Bertha, had joined the Women’s Air Corp. Only sixteen-year-old A J had remained at home with his mother, impatiently waiting for his own blue star to hang with those of his siblings in the front window of the Taylor home.
A full two years passed before A J could walk into the recruitment office in Gainesville, TX, soon after his 18th birthday, to enlist in the United States Navy. While attending basic training, the Navy assigned him the name of Alva J. Taylor, a better identification tag should he perish on the high seas.
The USS Sandoval, a transport ship carrying 1,500 sailors and Marines, brought A J to the infamous Red Beach of Iwo Jima in February 1945. What many had hoped would be an easy conquest turned into a bloodbath as the Japanese unleased every imaginable weapon on the unwary soldiers. As casualties mounted, A J and his crew transported hundreds of wounded Marines back to the Sandoval, their bodies mangled, bloody, and torn. By the time the ship had left the area a month later, the rocky island had claimed the lifeblood of 6,800 men, along with another 20,000 wounded.
From Iwo Jima, the Sandoval moved into an almost forgotten bay adjacent to the island of Okinawa. Periodic strafing attacks had kept the sailors on edge for several days, but on the morning of May 28, terror literally struck the ship.
The kamikaze pilot, desperate to incur as much carnage as possible, dove headlong into the ship’s wheelhouse, hoping to kill most of the ship’s officers. The force of the blow knocked A J off his feet onto the quivering deck. Raising his head, the teenager could see the ship’s command center engulfed in flames. A walking fireball of a man emerged from the nearly demolished steel structure, and the stench of burning human flesh filled A J’s nostrils. Behind the man, A J could see what remained of the Japanese airplane, strewn in pieces across the deck, its sole occupant’s body obliterated by the explosives he carried.
Inside the wheelhouse, commanding officer Scherrer lay seriously wounded near the dead executive officer. Twenty other hurt sailors were scattered in the immediate area. Fighting his way through the smoke, A J reached the closest wounded man, pulling him to safety away from the encroaching flames. He could hear the navigator, Lt. Kerth, barking orders via a megaphone. The Sandoval was totally vulnerable, without radar or internal communications or even central fire control.
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Before A J could absorb the full shock of the first attack, a second Japanese plane flew toward the ship. A J braced himself against a broken ship rail, expecting a direct hit on the aft deck. But the second pilot, less skilled than the first, passed benignly 500 feet above the deck before crashing into the sea.
Twenty minutes later a third kamikaze pilot, hoping to finally destroy the crippled ship, aimed his plane toward the Sandoval. A J waited for the impact, fully expecting to meet his Maker that day. But this was not his day to die. The pilot missed its intended target, crashing instead into a nearby sister ship.
Over the next few hours, the still dazed Sandoval crew extinguished dozens of fires and pushed simmering wreckage overboard. The ship, whether by the grace of God or capricious fate, had survived its baptism of fire under the onslaught of Japanese aircraft. Far too damaged to continue its mission, the ship limped back to San Francisco Harbor for repairs, returning to the South Pacific only after the Japanese surrender. Her mission: to bring war-weary troops back to the United States.
Released from active duty after two years and four months of devoted service, A J returned to a hero’s welcome in Texas. But he was no longer the same young man who had left the tiny North Texas community less than three years before. He, like thousands of other veterans who had faithfully served during World War II, had become part of a generation never to be forgotten.
If you would like to check out more books by Linda Chism check her author page on Amazon for more titles
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