Blue Fish: The War Beneath Read online

  “Positive, Sir. No suspicious movements noted,” replied Ramana.

  It was glaringly obvious that Sharma was unhappy with the orders given. He went to the navigational cabin, inside the control room, where all the maps and charts were stored.

  Picking up a pencil, he drew a lines on the map, connected them, and marked their intersection. Navigational Officer Mann Vijay Singh noted the latitude and longitude of the intersection. We were all waiting to receive orders from our Commanding Officer.

  “Our orders are to go to this location at 850 East and 190 North,” said Sharma furiously.

  “That will take five hours,” replied Mann Vijay Singh.

  “Arjun, get ‘S21’ here, at full speed. Continue the same depth,” came Sharma’s orders.

  “Location noted.”

  The crew in the control room reacted quickly.

  “Set her speed full ahead, Port 10,” I ordered.

  The Steering Operator confirmed my orders, and pulled the level. This marked our first move ahead in the whole operation. I had the feeling that there was a lot more to follow.

  Underwater, ‘S21’ recorded a drastic change in movement and speed. The propellers’ speed increased.

  THE BURNING SHIP

  2 days later

  I have always been uninterested in forming strong human connections, the cause of which was me growing up an orphan. It’s funny how often we encounter our destiny on the road we take to avoid it. Every man’s destiny has been set in ink, despite our strongest efforts to derail it. Is it part of one’s destiny to wage a war against it?

  I’d fallen for a woman with whom I could envision the rest of my life. But as cruel fate would have had it, she was soon transported to the world of no return. A truck ran over her. I don’t blame the gods of destiny or fate. I try not to remember her, but she haunts my dreams every night, never revealing her face. She runs from me even in my fantasies, but I have never given up trying to track her down.

  My sleep that night in ‘S21’ was no different. I pined to see her face, but she was too far away. It was like I was seeing her from the end of a rainbow. The closer I got to her, the more I ached. Then, there was a strong gust of wind which blew me further away from her. I woke up devastated. I rubbed my hands over my face, and walked out of my cabin, and made my way to the Sonar Operator to distract myself from this painfully recurrent dream.

  Ramana was steeped in concentration, fine tuning the echoes. He looked up as I entered.

  “Sir, there’s an emergency!”

  ”What is it?”

  Sharma ran out of his cabin. The density of the echoes proliferated drastically.

  “Sinking ship on the surface.”

  “Take her up to periscope depth,” Sharma ordered.

  “Aye Sir, taking her up to periscope depth. All stations stand by,” I confirmed.

  I walked into the third compartment, to see that everyone was visibly tense.

  “Periscope depth,” I ordered the Depth Controller.

  He quickly turned the wheels, and we escalated in the water.

  Sharma waited to rise up to periscope depth, while the other officers and crew held on. We could all feel the sudden change in atmospheric pressure.

  The Depth Controller soon confirmed that we’d reached periscope depth.

  Sharma went to the periscope, pulled out the sides and lifted it up. As he looked through it, an expression of fury covered his face.

  The crew stood by, anxious.

  Kamal walked up, took the periscope from Sharma and looked through it at the alleged burning ship.

  “Kamal, look! One of our cargo ships destroyed by the enemy!” exclaimed Sharma.

  Kamal held on to the periscope, still observing the ship.

  “How are you so positive it was the enemy’s doing?” he finally asked.

  Sharma was visibly angered at Kamal’s question.

  “Arjun, dive. 200 metres,” ordered Sharma.

  “Yes, sir. 200 metres. Preparing to dive,” I confirmed as the crew rushed to take their positions.

  “All stations stand by. Prepare to dive,” I announced.

  We dove underwater, as the debris of the burning ship started falling all around us.

  Sharma made his way into his cabin.

  I entered behind him, to find Kamal already there. I sensed the situation was serious, and that an altercation might be on the cards. I locked the door behind me before taking my seat.

  Sharma asked, “Kamal, what do you think our plan should be?”

  “Getting our job done should be the plan.”

  “Which is?”

  “You already know. Why must you ask?”

  “Kamal, the plan was devised in a comfortable room hundreds of kilometers away without knowing the exact situation here.”

  “The exact situation? What’s your plan, Sharma?”

  “We shouldn’t turn our backs to what has happened, Kamal. We cannot keep following documented orders.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “If we follow what’s given to us, we only go back to base despite sighting the enemy ship. We report it, leaving them safe, knowing fully well that there’s a threat. We will be attacked, and the government will just sit discussing what should be done, and retaliate after eons. My point is quite simple – if we see them, we attack.”

  It was evident that Sharma wanted to go on the offensive.

  “We are on a passive mission, Sir, and going on an active mode would risk everyone’s lives,” I said, quite concerned.

  “Arjun, I have no fear of dying, as should no one else on board. We should be willing to risk our lives for our nation, if need be.”

  “I cannot agree with you, Sharma. If something has been planned, then it would only be after lots of discussion and analysis. It would be the best way out. If we still do encounter the enemy, we would track their path and send the data across. Our crew is too inexperienced to fight,” Kamal tried to play the voice of reason.

  Sharma visibly outraged, spat at us. “You both might be content being silent spectators, but I am not!”

  “Let's be clear about this. This war is not between India and West Pakistan nor East Pakistan. This fight is between East Pakistan i.e. Bangladesh and West Pakistan. You are not bound to do something beyond your jurisdiction.”

  “Don't tell me my duties.”

  “I am not!”

  “Kamal! It would be plain stupidity on our part to spot our enemy, and let them roam around. This decision will be regretted later.”

  “Sharma, I abide by my duties. The crew is not prepared to fulfill your personal agenda. They have not been trained for battle.”

  “Kamal, you tell me, do you think our enemy will let us slip away unharmed? If we let them go, all that will do is further reinstate their belief that the Indian Navy aren’t brave enough. They will go home victorious and smug. This will invite more attacks. Is this what you want?”

  “You are so desperate to attack. You have made up your mind, but let me tell you, you won’t have my support on this.”

  “What do you want to do now, Kamal? We are wasting time while our enemy are advancing steadily towards us. Turning back now is just plain cowardice. What’s stopping you? Fear?”

  “Fear? You do realize you will have to face the court for disobeying their orders, and following your twisted judgment.”

  “There is no better time to set an example. We need to show that India will prove her mettle if provoked.”

  “Sharma, you are making all of us go against the Head Office. I won't support this. Don't expect any recognition for this reckless behaviour.”

  Sharma whacked the already-worn out table, and stormed out of his cabin.

  “Arjun, he is bound to do something terrible. We should stop him before it's too late!”

  I was personally on Sharma’s side, but it didn’t take long to realize that that meant absolutely nothing. I was nevertheless full of adrenaline because I felt a bat
tle was about to break.

  The following day, I was standing near the hatch of the first compartment, also known as the Torpedo Compartment. This is where we launched the torpedoes from. Each torpedo was 18 feet long, and there were six torpedoes lying in two columns, one atop another. The compartment was 30 feet long, and 10 feet wide. There was hardly any room for the crew to move around. During times of war, torpedoes were either launched from this compartment or the seventh which held four more torpedoes.

  As I was inspecting this place, I felt someone behind me. I turned around to find Sharma, inspecting the torpedoes.

  Sharma asked, “Are they ready?”

  “They will be, given orders.”

  “Prepare for the drill, Arjun.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  Sharma left. I realized he was about to go ahead with whatever plan he had. But, I was unsure about how Kamal would react to it, and what that would mean for the rest of the crew.

  I entered the Control Room, and picked up the intercom. “This is a drill. I repeat, this is a drill.”

  The lights turned red. The resting crew members quickly took their positions.

  Kamal was standing next to me. We looked at Sharma, expecting further orders.

  “Conduct emergency dive, down 200,” he declared.

  I was stunned. His orders were hazardous for the boat.

  “Do as I say. Let Kamal see that we are indeed prepared for battle.”

  “Yes, Sir. Emergency dive – go down 200,” I announced into the intercom.

  The Steering Operator quickly pushed the lever downwards. ‘S21’ felt like a derailed arrow shot into nothingness. We tried to hold on to things around us for support. It was very difficult for us to move.

  The objects on the table slid down, and we scrambled to keep them from falling.

  One of the officers hit his forehead against a vault as he tried to take a step forward. An acceleration of this level was the first for many of us. We were unsure about the precautionary measures we should take. All we knew is that we were going deep underwater.

  "Depth 130 meters...140 meters," informed the Diving Officer.

  Even though the crew was struggling to stand up without support, Sharma looked determined. I was trying to read his mind. I was hoping he would stop the ongoing depth.

  "Depth 160 meters..."

  "Continue the dive," Sharma said, staring at Kamal.

  "Depth 170 meters."

  Sharma spoke into the intercom. “Fear is our worst enemy. We should kill it, before it kills us.”

  “Sharma, you can't risk everyone’s lives. Stop the dive!” Kamal shouted.

  “My crew is ready for anything.”

  Upon hearing this, the crew grew suspicious about the intentions of the drill, which Sharma seemed bent on continuing.

  “Arjun, prepare to launch torpedoes. Target distance 300 meters. Speed 6 knots," came Sharma’s orders.

  I picked up the intercom. “Compartment seven. Men get ready. Program torpedo in tube 1 with distance 300 meters, speed 6 knots.”

  In the seventh compartment, two torpedo loaders, Taan Singh, and Ranjit rushed towards the tubes. They began to input the mentioned torpedo launch details.

  Sharma was waiting for the confirmation from the seventh compartment. He was resolved to evaluate the strength of his crew, while his crew was busy evaluating his mind.

  “Torpedo programmed in Tube 1, Sir,” came the information from Taan Singh.

  “All stations stand by,” ordered Sharma.

  “Depth 200 metres!” came the warning from the Depth Controller.

  Standing at the torpedo launching unit in the third Compartment, Sharma put his finger on the launching button.

  “Kamal, do you still think that our crew is not capable to launch an attack?” Sharma inquired, and smirked. “Level 'S21', end of the drill.”

  Sharma began to walk away. I knew Kamal wasn’t going to let Sharma get away with this. I watched him step to the torpedo launching unit, just as the Diving Officer was about to level the ship.

  “Continue the drill,” announced Kamal, and it was Sharma who stopped in his tracks to see Kamal looking determined.

  The Diving Officer stopped from pulling the lever. Sharma’s face was steeped in anger.

  “Arjun, continue the drill,” ordered Kamal. “War would never be this simple.”

  The crew was perplexed. They had no idea if this was a drill, or a deal that would take their lives just to determine who the alpha male was.

  “Continue the depth,” I confirmed.

  “Depth 200 metres, Sir,” said the Diving Officer.

  “Dive 300 metres,” retorted Kamal.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Water leak in the auxiliary pipe of the seventh compartment,” said Kamal.

  I picked up the intercom. “This is a drill. Water leak in the seventh compartment’s auxiliary pipe. Fix it.”

  Sharma smirked at Kamal, looking very self-assured.

  “Depth 210 metres…depth 220 metres…”

  There was absolute silence in the control room.

  The crew in the seventh compartment were trying to fix the auxiliary pipe.

  “Depth 240 metres, Sir. We are near the danger mark.”

  “Continue to 300 metres.”

  “This is unnecessary,” shouted Sharma. “We are jeopardizing lives here.”

  “Exactly what I’ve been trying to convince you!” exclaimed Kamal.

  The drill continued.

  “Depth 260 metres.”

  The crew held on tightly as the pressure surmounted to excruciating levels.

  “Depth 280 metres.”

  There were deafeningly loud noises from the boat, which visibly frightened the crew.

  “300 metres, Sir..”

  The pressure acting inside the boat was so enormous that the glasses on the metres were starting to develop cracks. The crew watched the thread tied in the seventh compartment bending to an inverted hyperbolic shape.

  Soon, water started leaking into the boat.

  Sharma stepped in. “Level her.”

  Kamal spoke up into the intercom. “This is your Administrative Officer. The drill is not over. Compartment seven, program a torpedo into Tube 2, distance 100 metres, speed 8 knots.”

  In the seventh compartment, Taan Singh and Ranjit quickly set the program into the tubes.

  Kamal took out the cap from torpedo launching button, and put his finger on the button, looking at Sharma pointedly.

  “Re-Program torpedo to distance 150 meters, speed 10 knots, in 10 seconds." Kamal suddenly changed orders. “All stations stand by.”

  The crew quickly reacted to his orders, while I kept my eye on the timer.

  Taan Singh struggled to reprogram the torpedo.

  Sharma was visibly upset.

  "Fire in compartment 4," Kamal said.

  ”Clear off the fire in the fourth compartment. This is a drill,” I said through the intercom. “10 seconds up Sir.”

  “Turn off the lights. Create an electric failure.”

  The Engineering Officer Prathap turned the lights off, automatically switching on the emergency lights. The three crewmembers in the fourth compartment pulled the fire extinguisher out with great difficulty, this being their first time, clearly illustrating their inexperience with emergencies.

  “Torpedoes task failed. Clear programming,” said Kamal.

  Taking his hand off the torpedo launching button, Kamal proceeded towards Sharma.

  “The crew is clearly not ready for war. Drill over, negative results. Level her,” said Kamal.

  “Bring her to depth 150 metres,” concluded Sharma.

  Sharma and Kamal stared each other down. I understood that Sharma had been mercilessly humiliated by Kamal, but he had no other way of getting him to realize that his offensive tactics were wrong.

  Sharma made his way back to his cabin.

  I was looking at the doctor treating the injured crew in the second compar
tment. He placed his patients on the dining table and was applying the medicines. It was uncommon for us to have medical issues in a submarine, which is why we didn’t have proper medical quarters. The doctor used the dining table as his surgery bed.

  Despite the fortune of getting away with minor injuries in the spite of the drill, it really made me question a lot. I was wondering if our crew was war-ready.

  Radio Operator Jayraj came to me interrupting my train of thought, and said in a plain tone "We were told that this is part of a training program. Where did this war seep in from?"

  “What if a war really does break out?” Vardhan questioned.

  “It will be another experience for you underwater,” Ramana said.

  The crew started laughing again. This is what makes war an anomaly. Death is always around the corner, while everyone involved try to live life to the maximum every spare second.

  “Will the both of you stop fooling around?” snapped the Doctor. “This is not the time to laugh; war will happen, even if we are not prepared for it.”

  A strange silence curbed the mockery at hand.

  Another day passed by.

  THE BATTLE

  DECEMBER 03rd, 0030 hours

  Sharma entered the navigational room. He looked a bit amiss, so I walked up to him and asked if everything was alright. His silence was the answer. The silence indicated his disappointment with me because I diligently obeyed Mr. Kamal’s orders during the drill the previous day.

  Mann Vijay Singh was marking certain points on the map. Sharma, Mann Vijay Singh and I were the only people there.

  “These could be the possible enemy positions. And we already passed these locations,” Mann Vijay affirmed.

  “How sure can you be about its specific location now?” Sharma inquired.

  “Zero Sir. We need to check at these points till the sonar operator clears them. The enemy will require at least 4 days of time to get through all the marked locations.”

  Sharma looking at a point on the map asked “How fast can we reach that point?”

  “Three hours from now, Sir.”

  Sharma checked with sonar operator Ramana if he recorded any suspicious activity on the radar in the recent past.

  “Did you find any suspicious echoes?”