Arizona
By Lyndon Barry
Captain Mark Ansell replaced the handset in it's cradle and looked out of the window that was before him. He watched with increasing pride at the expanse of the ship's bow which was cutting through the waters of the Pacific with incredible ease. He smiled slightly and turned to the woman stood beside him.
"Well Commander, she seems to be holding up well"
"Aye sir, I think she's going to pass next months trials nicely"
Ansell picked up the clipboard that was on the console in front of him and scanned it. He took a pencil from his pocket and marked a note on the form.
"Ok, set course of 127 and give me three-quarter speed please"
"Aye sir, Course 127, three-quarters"
Masters, the helmsman quickly adjusted the ships course, while the lee helmsman, Smith, made the appropriate alterations in the speed.
Ansell smiled slightly as he felt the ship begin to turn.
"Seems to answer nicely, much better than the Ford did" Ansell noted, and Commander Lewis nodded slowly.
"It's that new rudder design, Sometimes I think the boffins took twenty years just to realise that it needed to be a different shape for carriers"
Ansell nodded and made another note on the clipboard.
"Three quarter speed achieved Captain" the lee helmsman noted and Ansell smiled slightly.
The Quartermaster at the helm was the youngest of his 30 man crew, despite just celebrating his twenty-seventh birthday the week before.
The carrier, the second of the new Ford class, was designed for a crew of around ninety.
However Ansell only needed a few to manage the ships critical systems, including the reactor.
"Captain, I'm picking up odd weather patterns ahead" a report was called across the bridge by Lewis, who was doubling up as his navigator.
"what kind of odd patterns" Ansell asked, picking up a set of binoculars and peering out of the window ahead.
"Just odd sir, instruments are giving differing readings each time I look" Lewis was exuding a calm confidence that reassured Ansell.
"Technical glitch in the software or have we got a fouled sensor suite?" Ansell asked, but he soon had his answer as he saw what lay just ahead.
From out of the clear blue skies, he saw the storm clouds gather. Almost immediately, he heard the heavy rumble of thunder, and just a second later, lightning could be seen inside the clouds.
He looked over at Lewis "Can we navigate around?" he asked, and received a shake of the head as his answer.
"Damn" he muttered and scooped up the handset, flicking the switch to broadcast to the rest of the ship.
"This is Ansell, prepare for foul weather immediately ahead." He looked out of the window and down at the vast expanse of deck that made up the majority of the carrier's surface.
He saw the Knighthawk waiting on the deck. "Get that helicopter off the deck and into the hangar. Make sure it's tied down properly, I don't want our only transport out of commission"
Ansell watched as the immense elevator that the helicopter was on descended out of view. He waited and almost five minutes later the elevator rose back into view, now cleared.
He turned his view back to the storm, and raised the binoculars, only to lower them immediately. The storm was on them, and lightning was already playing across the flight deck.
"Christ" he muttered, only seconds before a bolt of lightning impacted directly on the island tower, and he was hurled across the bridge by the electricity that suddenly discharged from his console.
Everything went black...
A throbbing pain in his head was the first thing Ansell noticed as he began to stir.
He raised his hand to the side and found it wet. As he looked at it, he saw a thin smear of blood on his fingers.
He groaned slightly and pulled himself off the floor of the bridge. His legs were too weak, and he was too dizzy to stand, so he collapsed gratefully into his seat.
He glanced around the bridge, his vision slowly focusing properly, and he saw his crew slowly stirring. As he looked out of the window, he could see no sign of the storm.
He reached out for the handset which dangled from it's cord.
"This is the captain, all hands report status"
He waited for a moment, then was relieved to hear his crew checking in from the engine room, the reactor control room, the galley and the various other points around the ship.
By the time the reports had finished, Lewis had regained her feet and was standing over the naviation systems, a confused expression on her face.
"Report Commander"
"GPS systems appear offline sir, I think the storm must have damaged the hardware" She glanced at the helm as Masters and Smith took control again.
"Course heading remains as before, so judging by time and speed" She paused "we're about here" She marked a point on her chart, then looked at the clock again.
"We were out less than an hour Captain".
Ansell nodded slowly "Radio Compacfleet, let them know we got tossed around by the storm. Set course for Pearl Harbour, Half speed. Let's get her back in port and figure out what damage she took."
"Aye sir" Ansell pressed a handkerchief to his head as his orders were carried out. The huge carrier turned towards home.
"Sir, I can't raise Pearl Harbour, there's no response" Jones, the communications engineer reported back.
"I've tried the alternative channels and nothing yet. Wait..." Jones broke off, leaning over the communications console and adjusting settings. His face turned a ghostly white.
"Captain!, I'm picking up distress signals on one of the older radio frequencies. Oh christ Captain, there's reports that Pearl's been attacked"
Despite the dizziness that threatened to claim him, Ansell leapt to his feet, moving over to the comms console. "What the hell do you mean attacked?"
"Just that sir, reports of aircraft overhead, fires, explosions.. nothing clear so far"
"Fucking terrorists!" Masters had turned to look at his Captain. "I bet they've done another 9/11 or something"
"But Pearl?" Smith countered "I mean, it's a military base, it's got security"
"So did the Pentagon" Masters argued in return "Besides, what better way to flip the bird at us than attacking Pearl!"
"Stow it" Lewis barked. "Get back to your posts" She looked at Ansell, clearly worried
Ansell held himself steady against the console and returned her gaze.
"Combat status?" he queried, already knowing the answer.
"No active weapon systems, no ammunition of any kind. One unarmed helicopter, no other aircraft. Unarmed lifeboats. Just a handful of Marines for security with M4's and beretta sidearms." In short sir, we're useless. Plus, half the systems on this crate haven't been installed or activated."
Ansell nodded slowly, then looked at Masters and Smith "Steady on course for Pearl, take her up to flank"
He swallowed and looked at Jones "Jones, give me transmit on the same frequencies as the radio traffic you're getting"
Ansell sat back in his command chair, lifting the handset again. "All stations, this is the captain, Action stations, repeat Action Stations, this is not a drill"
"Sir, we're ready to transmit" Jones flipped a switch and handed the captain a headset. The captain donned it over his ballcap, and motioned for Jones to open the transmission.
"This is the USS Arizona, repeat USS Arizona, we are currently en route and ready to assist"
A few minutes later and a voice answered "Arizona, this is The Enterprise, report position"
Ansell relayed the co-ordinates, surprised that the Enterprise was so close.
"Understood Arizona, stand by for orders" the communication cut off.
"Lewis, get the CATCC up and running, I want to know what's in the air right now"
"Aye sir" came the response and Lewis picked up her own handset and barked an order.
Despite this being a crew picked for their diagnostic and quality assessment skills, they were still US Navy, born and bred.
As Ansell looked back out of the window, he saw several gray shapes on the horizon. He smiled and realised that he was close to rendezvousing with the fleet.
His feeling of security was shattered in the next instant as several large explosions sent plumes of water crashing onto the flight deck.
Another explosion landed in the middle of the deck towards the bow. Debris scattered across the deck and fragments bounced off the armoured windows of the bridge.
They had been shelled, and from long range.
Pearl Harbour had been attacked, and now a defenceless aircraft carrier seemed to be next.
"What the flying fuck?" Masters lost his composure again and shielded his eyes as another explosion ripped a hole in the flight deck.
Ansell ignored it, almost wanting to ask the same question himself.
"Evasive action, Do we have any countermeasures?" He slumped a little when Lewis shook her head.
The carrier began to turn again, and the next few explosions rained down into the ocean.
A loud drone from overhead made everyone on the bridge look out of the nearest window. For a moment, nothing could be seen. Then, from out of the sun, dark shapes appeared, and the drone changed to a whine as planes descended.
"Brace for impact" Ansell yelled, but instead of the expected howl of missiles, a loud chatter of machine gun fire was heard, as bullets strafed the control island. They bounced harmlessly off the armour. Ansell looked out at the planes as they retreated and froze, another group of planes was coming out of the sun, their prop engines screaming as they fell upon the Arizona.
This time, instead of machine gun fire, and instead of the expected missile attack, the higher pitched whine of falling bombs was heard, and Ansell ducked low. The armoured windows were blown inwards as the carrier sustained direct hit after direct hit. Explosions rocked the length of the ship and she started to slow.
"What the hell is going on" MAsters'shouted, then froze as he saw the blood pooling around the lifeless body of Lewis. "Captain, the commander, she's hurt"
Ansell stared at her body as well, then motioned to Jones, who was nursing a head wound of his own.
"Is the channel still ready?"
Jones nodded, and Ansell began broadcasting. As he did, he saw five dark shapes skipping across the waves towards him. He had seen this attack pattern in training films, and movies.
Torpedo bombers.
"This the USS Arizona, requesting assistance. We are under assault by forces unknown approximately 20 nautical miles from Pearl Harbour. We are unarmed, repeat unarmed and taking damage."
Ansell was surprised to hear an immediate response.
"To the ship declaring itself to be the US Arizona. This is the USS Enterprise. You are to stop engines and heave to immediately, or you will be destroyed"
Ansell froze, shocked by the threats coming through the radio.
"Enterprise, this is Arizona, explain your last, over"
"THis is Enterprise. Heave to and prepare to be boarded, or you will be destroyed" The response was again, immediate, and the voice behind it hostile.
Ansell looked at the five torpedo bombers as they pulled out of the attack run, then looked around the bridge and swore softly.
"All engines full reverse. I want her stopped now" He felt the ship shudder violently as the engines went from full ahead to full behind faster than the design intended for them to. Ansell lifted the handset from the floor.
"This is the captain, all crew prepare to be boarded. Do not resist. Stand by to assemble on the flight deck"
As the Arizona slowed to a halt, Ansell watched the grey shapes approach. He made out the distinctive form of an aircraft carrier. The carrier was too small to be the Enterprise. Then as she neared, he saw the number painted on her flight deck.
The number 6.
It was the Enterprise alright, Ansell realised.
The CV-6.
Which had been scrapped in 1960.
Ansell watched in horror as the ship drew to a halt alongside. The Enterprise was much smaller than the Arizona, so it took time for crew to transfer across to the immense carrier. Ansell made his way through the control tower and onto the deck. Masters remained behind, waiting for a signal from his captain.
As Ansell exited the hatch, blue shirted Navy sailors pointed their weapons at him. Weapons that were almost eighty years old. Ansell put his hands up.
"I am Captain Mark Ansell, United States Navy"
An officer, wearing a familiar, but obselete brown uniform moved through the group of sailors to stand before him.
"That isn't a US Navy uniform, and this isn't a US Navy boat"
Ansell read the man's shoulder and frowned.
"I need to speak to your Admiral as soon as possible Commander. We have a serious problem here, not the least being you've opened fire on a friendly carrier.
The Commander frowned as well.
"Get your crew on deck and prepare to be transferred to our brig"
Ansell complied, knowing that he needed to play this extremely carefully. In short order his crew were moved off the Arizona onto the Enterprise.
He spent the next few hours waiting in cramped compartment, seperated from his own crew.
Eventually, the hatch opened and two men entered. THe first bore the epaulets of a captain, but the second bore the four stars of a Rear Admiral.
Ansell knew who this was. He had seen photographs and portraits in history books and at the Academy. He stood to attention and saluted.
"Rear Admiral Kimmel, My name is Captain Mark Ansell, United States Navy" Kimmel returned the salute automatically, then scowled.
"There's no record of a Mark Ansell in the Navy, and the Arizona, as you will shortly see, has been sunk in the port.
Now, suppose you explain just how you come to be onboard a vessel that can only be Japanese, with an American crew"
"This is going to be a long, and difficult story Admiral" and Ansell began to explain what had happened.
Kimmel's disbelief was evident to see. However, his disbelief was tempered by the hour he had spent going over the huge carrier, seeing systems that were impossible to build.
His shock at seeing what the cavernous hangar deck stored, a Huey helicopter, it's design, though over 60 years old by Ansell's career, was over twenty years away for Kimmel.
A month later, Mark Ansell was back aboard the Arizona. He watched as it sailed under it's own power towards a point in the ocean that he had recommended.
He could scarcely believe the past few weeks. From Pearl Harbour, he and his crew had been flown to Washington.
The Arizona had been hidden away carefully and scientists had gone over it with a fine toothed comb.
In Washington, Ansell had sat facing one of his heroes, and explained his story. And the man had listened, and made a decision that could have changed the entire outcome of the war.
Instead of following a course that would have seen victory in short order, he had decided that the Arizona should, like it's namesake, be sent to the bottom.
This time, however, it had to be sent there in secret.
Every scrap of paper, every computer hard drive and disk were sealed in the National Archives. Orders were written that they not be opened until a specific date in the future.
And not even something called the Freedom of Information Act could unseal it.
The records of the event were turned over to a special team of Naval researchers under the title Project Philadelphia.
Mark Ansell and the rest of the crew of the CVN 79, The USS Carrier Arizona never returned to their own time.
Seventy-eight years later, a robotic survey submarine, following mysterious US Navy directions found something whilst exploring the Marianas Trench.
Upon closer examination, it was discovered to be a aircraft carrier, and still visible on the front of the flight deck was the number 79.
It was the same day that the Arizona left Pearl Harbour under the command of Captain Mark Ansell.
The End
Lyndon Barry - December 2009