As he emerged from the hatch the acrid smell of burning oil filled his nostrils. The water was ablaze with a quickly spreading oil slick and there was very little debris to show that a ship had ever existed. As he scanned the area through his binoculars he could see heads being engulfed by flames…there was nothing he could do to save them. Suddenly one of the crewmen shouted,
"There's one over there."
Turning in the direction the sailor was pointing, he trained his binoculars on what appeared to be a hunk of wood floating clear of the blazing oil. At first, that was all he could see, a piece of floating wood, but when it rose on an ocean swell, he saw the man draped unconscious across the flotsam.
Racing the spreading flames, a dinghy was launched and the unconscious man was plucked from the sea and brought aboard The Mackerel.
Later, as medic's cleaned the oil and grime from the man's face, his eyes blinked and then opened. When he raised his arm to shield his eyes from the bright overhead light, Doc Lewis, the boats surgeon, saw an American Eagle tattoo on the left shoulder.
"Go get the skipper. This is no Jap."
As a career military officer, Richardson had been trained to kill, but like most warriors, he had been taught that when an enemy could no longer do you harm, you did him no further harm. It was his practice, when possible, to rescue any survivors of his deadly attacks. Making certain once again that there were no Japanese warships nearby, he ordered The Mackerel to surface. As soon as the conning tower was clear of the surface he scrambled up the ladder.
CHAPTER 1 (cont)