The Fish Factory: The Story and Life of a Young Man and His Daring Mission as a Marine in the Aleutian Islands During World War Ii

By L. Gilbert Payne

At the onset of WW II, Captain Anderson can see Recruit Matt
Stover, who was raised on a cattle ranch in Driggs Idaho, under
the majestic Teton Mountains, is a special young man. Not only is he very intelligent, he has something most of us wish we had. You can't put your finger on it, but he makes you believe he possesses some of all that is good in the world and is willing to share it with everyone, no strings attached. Not only is he the top recruit of his class but is willing to accept an extremely hazardous mission even
though his Special Ops training is cut short. Through his ingenuity and the help of an Aleut Shaman, he foils a Japanese plot to terrorize the Aleutians Islands and the U. S. West Coast and force America into an early peace treaty which would give Japan control of most of the Pacific and Indonesia. Matt also discovers that the Japanese have a number of Aleut women captives on the island, whom they plan to kill when they leave Luta Island. He realizes that he has no choice but to help them escape their Japanese captors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493153329

L. Gilbert Payne

L. Gilbert Payne was born in a farming community in northern Utah. He is retired currently, enjoys writing, and this is his first novel. He lives with his wife in his hometown in Northern Utah, and has 6 children and 15 grandchildren.

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CONTENTS

THE FISH FACTORY

THE HEIST

THE SPY

THE ALEUT SHAMAN

THE MISSION

THE FISH FACTORY

Even as a young boy growing up in a small Idaho town, Matt Stover had always felt that someday he would be given the chance to prove to himself and his family that he was indeed a man of action and vision. To his pleasure, but not necessarily to his credit, he had built just about every kind of gadget that a boy could mount on wheels that could be rolled, pulled, or towed on the dirt and gravel roads around his country home. This meant, of course, that every time Matt’s father wanted to pull something into his shop to make repairs or work on it, he would find the floor space occupied by some multi-wheeled creation of Matt’s. If there did happen to be room enough to work, Matt’s father soon found out that items he had purchased and stored just days before had now become a new addition to Matt’s latest cr eation.

Even though Matt’s father, Luther, was a hard man and found his son’s endless projects disrupting at times, he was a willing supporter of his son’s passion for creating some new contraption—especially given the fact that Matt never complained about getting up before the sun began to cast pink-and-orange spikes of colored light into the sky above the snowcapped Teton mountains east of their two-story log-and-rock home, which had been built on much the same creative principle that Matt was now implementing into his own life’s works. The rocks had been gathered from pastureland nestled at the bottom of an open slope at the east end of the ranch, next to a meandering stream that cut through the middle of the Stover ranch and was full of native trout. The trees had been cut away to make a clearing for a house and garden then split to supply logs for the home at the west end of the ranch. Matt was the oldest of the third generation of Stovers to live in this sturdy—yet intriguing—half-rock, half-log home with the split roof enabling its massive fireplace to jet out from the middle into a tower three stories high above the ground. Matt’s great-grandfather, Chester Stover, had always said that he didn’t want to worry about live sparks landing on the roof and causing a fire, so when Matt’s grandfather, Thomas Stover, and Matt’s five great-uncles built the first part of the house, they spent the better part of the summer constructing the fireplace that had become a monument to their native spirit. Each of Matt’s great-uncles’ homes had a similar fireplace, and to Matt’s knowledge, not one had ever caught fire.

Matt’s father had found another reason not to curtail Matt’s constant tinkering. Matt was now eighteen and had been working alongside his father for many years. By now, you would have been hard-pressed to find any tool or piece of equipment that didn’t have improvements to them that Matt had added. Things like adjustable seats, seats with spring action, handles that would swivel just the way your hand would like them to, and wagon boxes that would release and dump their load just by moving a lever. Matt’s father especially liked the shaded holder for the water bags that Matt had cleverly placed on almost every piece of machinery or wagon they had.

It was early winter now, and Matt spent most of his time studying. He had always been especially good at math and was teaching himself algebra from a book Mrs. Clawson had given him to take home. She said that he would be on his own because she had never studied algebra herself. So after school and when Matt had done his chores, if it was too cold to work on a new idea in their shed, Matt would study algebra. To his surprise, he could work most of the problems with relative ease.

Yet this winter was different. Not only was it cold outside, but the world was on the brink of war. The cold winter wind was not nearly as chilling as the news that kept coming over the radio about what was happening in Europe, China, and Indonesia. According to the radio reports, the United States was trying to remain neutral, but most felt it was only a matter of time and the United States would need to enter the war and help England and France, or all Europe would be held hostage under the rule of the German dictator, Adolf Hitler. The family of Matt’s mother, Emma, had been horse soldiers. One of her uncles rode with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders back in 1898 in the Spanish-American War. She had old pictures of them hanging on the wall. As far as the Stovers went, they always answered at the call of the bugle—and paid special homage to the four Stovers killed fighting for America’s freedom, which included Uncle Ben, the oldest brother of Matt’s dad, killed in France in 1917. Matt had always been told that he was most like his Uncle Ben. The reason Matt’s dad never shipped out to Europe was he got stuck training and teaching kids from the city how to survive living in harsh winter conditions. He said he would have gotten a chance to ship out in the spring of 1918—only the war had ended, and they were all sent home. He only served two years of his four-year enlistment.

Matt’s family Bible had a carefully kept record of their dead from the time the Stovers first came to America. The Stovers came out west in 1879, and after ten years in Wyoming, Matt’s grandpa moved to Driggs, Idaho, and started what was to become the Stover Ranch in 1889. Only a year after, Benjamin Driggs and Don Carlos settled the town of Driggs.

To Matt, Saturday night, December 6, 1941, was a special night because he had finished drawing plans for a boat he wanted to build and sail on Yellowstone Lake that coming summer. Matt was certain that it would work and couldn’t wait to start building it. He was sure he had enough hardwood gathered and stored in the hay barn last summer to build the hull. He had been given a discarded cloth cover off an old camp wagon by his Uncle Garth that would work for a sail once he dyed it with the red ink he had acquired from a friend at school. He was anxious to start putting his plan to the test as he had done many times before. Only this time, he wanted to do his best work. As he went to bed that night, he had visions of a highly finished, brightly painted sailboat flying across Yellowstone Lake at the head of a brisk summer wind. Little did he know that after Sunday—December 7, 1941—his world would never be the same.

It wasn’t until after Matt had finished afternoon chores that he discovered his parents looking with disbelief at the cloth-covered AM radio that had just aired the first accounts of the Japanese sneak attack at Pearl Harbor. The stunned look on his parents’ faces could only partly show the total shock they felt. No one would have ever expected a sneak attack. After hearing the account of what appeared to be the total destruction of the US Pacific Fleet’s battleships and cruisers along with the air force bases at Wheeler and Hickam Field, the flying boat station at Kaneohe, and the naval installations on Ford Island, they were sitting in disbelief. The commentator had made no attempt to assess total loss of life at that point, but that the information they had received from the White House said that the loss of life on the battleship Arizona alone was over one thousand men. Then came the chilling announcement by President Roosevelt that as of that day, a state of war had been declared against the Axis powers which included Germany, Italy, and Japan. The United States of America was at war. America would throw herself into the war effort, and all Americans were expected to do their part to bring an early end to this world conflict.

It was early summer when Matt bid farewell to his little brother, Tad; sisters, Melissa and Jennifer; his mom and dad; and those magnificent snowcapped mountains that the French trappers had named so long ago. He knelt down by Gus, his blue heeler, to stroke his coat then turned and got on the bus, being careful not to show the tears welling up in his eyes. Gus barked then howled as the bus began to move down the lane toward the road that led to Pocatello and Matt’s enlistment in the United States Marines. As Matt looked out the back window of the bus, his mind’s eye would record that moment forever: his family waving good-bye against a backdrop of the most beautiful country God could have ever created and, for Matt, the only country that he had ever known in his eighteen and a half years. Matt knew that saying good-bye to his family was not going to be easy and that his dad would be strong for him, but saying good-bye to his mother almost did him in. Matt and his mother had always had a special relationship, and she looked so concerned and scared. No words were spoken. She just held him as only a mother could then watched as he turned to Gus for strength, and then he was gone. It’s funny how the mind works. The warmth of that moment would be with Matt forever. And with events that were to come, Matt would call on that strength many times, knowing that they were always there for him.

As soon as the enlistment papers were completed and signed, Matt and the other new enlistees were seated in a big room, and all took a test covering almost any subject you could think of. The test took four hours to complete, then Matt received his first meal as a marine: Spam on toast with gravy. After lunch, they received their traveling orders and were put on a bus. He was sent to a place in Alaska they called the Fish Factory.

As Matt sat on his bunk, he thought back on the last three months at the Fish Factory and how his hard work on the ranch, at school studies, and in athletics had paid off, especially given the fact that his first six years of school were at home. However, he supposed that it shouldn’t come as a surprise. His mother made him work harder than any of his school teachers had.

Matt chuckled to himself. The four-hour sessions each day were the most intense studying he had ever done. He knew that his mother, Emma, loved him dearly, but when it came to studies, she cut him no slack. When Matt finally went to public school, Mrs. Clawson gave him the same work she gave the ninth graders, even though he was actually a seventh grader. But more importantly, she gave him books to read that she brought from home: books on philosophy and books that told of ancient world civilizations and their different cultures. These he found very interesting. By the time Matt graduated, he had read a great deal and knew that somehow this had helped him when he was selected to take a week of testing that Captain Anderson had implemented for some enlistees. There were questions and problems covering just about everything you could think of—from math to geography and, yes, foreign cultures.

Matt had not been intimidated by the hard work and training that Drill Sergeant Williams had put them through. Even though it was hard work, some of the training wasn’t that different than things he had done at home. For instance, he had owned and maintained his own rifle since he was eleven years old, and because it was hard to get ammunition, he had learned to make each shot count at a young age. Matt had slept under the stars almost from birth—or at least, it seemed that way—even late in the year when the northern breeze has a freezing bite to it by morning. So to Matt, sleeping outdoors in a tent was quite enjoyable.

There were parts of the training that Matt was not comfortable with. He wasn’t too fond of bayonet practice, and having someone shooting live rounds from a machine gun over your head was something he could have done without. He hoped he would never have to use some of his newly acquired skills, but for the most part, things had gone well for him. Sergeant Williams used him as an example a lot of the time, especially when teaching outdoor survival skills. Matt was able to help others who were struggling with learning to be a marine without them feeling any resentment toward him.

THE HEIST

Upon completion of boot camp at the Fish Factory, the 130 who were accepted into the special operations programs were to continue training for another eight weeks before receiving their orders and shipping out to their various assigned duties and loc ations.

Colonel Hatch called the group together to congratulate them and tell them what to expect for the rest of their training. First, they would have a weeklong orientation into the special operations program where they were to be graded. They would be placed into one of the programs, after which they would receive a ten-day furlough before entering the second phase of their training. Then, as was the custom, he also announced that this class’s top recruit was Matt Stover. He continued on, saying that winning top recruit was a very special award. Along with winning the honor of top recruit for his class, Matt had earned the chance to try and steal the Fish Factory’s Honor Book. Any recruits who succeed in stealing the Honor Book earned the right to have their names recorded permanently in the book—a challenge given to each recruit who won the top recruit award at the Fish Factory and his team.

All the recruits knew the Honor Book was kept in a 25x25-foot block building in a clearing 165-foot-long-by-135-foot-wide located at the center of the compound. There were recruits assigned to be on guard duty twenty-four hours a day—one walking around the building and two more manning the watchtowers. The watchtowers were located at each end of the clearing—one on the east side and one on the west side—directly across each other, with the block building centered between them. The recruits also knew that, to date, no recruit’s team had been successful in removing the book without being caught.

After the recruits were dismissed, Sergeant Williams met with Matt and asked if he would accept the challenge. Matt could hardly mask his excitement as he accepted.

Good, Sergeant Williams said. Here are the rules: you can pick three other recruits to help you, but if any of the four of you get captured while trying to steal the Honor Book, the mission has failed, even if you or anyone on your team were to escape with the book. We will give you one stick of dynamite with extra fuses, along with access to the tool shed and mechanic shop. Any other supplies you need, you will need to scavenge on your own.

Matt asked if any part of the base was off limits when it came to scavenging for things he might need.

No, Sergeant Williams said, but as I said before, if anyone on your team gets caught scavenging, the mission fails. He informed Matt that he would have one week to plan and try to complete the mission.

Without hesitation, Matt gave Sergeant Williams the names of three recruits he wanted to complete his team.

Good, Sergeant Williams said. Then your time starts today at 1400 hours and ends next Monday at 1400 hours. I will arrange for you and your team to be moved to the empty barracks at the north end of camp so you can make your plans in private.

After lunch, Matt was standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at the block building, when the three recruits he had chosen came around the corner of the map orientation building. They were all smiles, hitting each other and roughhousing it up pretty good. They figured Matt had chosen them to help steal the Honor Book and knew that if they succeeded, they would be the first recruits to have their names recorded in the book. Everyone in camp had pulled guard duty at the block building compound at least twice, and they all wanted a crack at stealing the book. Now they would have that chance thanks to Matt.

Matt had chosen each recruit for a specific reason. He had expected that he might win the top-recruit honor for the last week or so and had given quite a lot of thought and planning as to how he might succeed and who he would need to help him. He chose Frank Rutobor from Virginia because his family were coal miners, and he had worked in the coal mines before enlisting. Matt’s plan called for his skills. He also chose Jarek Vandehei, an Iowa State wrestling champion and the best hand-to-hand combat recruit for their class. Barry Trotter from Detroit, Michigan, had a unique set of skills. He had nerves of steel and was the best scavenger. Barry claimed that in his neighborhood, being a scavenger was just part of growing up.

Matt smiled and said, Well, men, I have a plan that I believe might just work, and I would like you guys to help me. What do you think? Want to give it a try?

Barry gave Matt a push and said, It’s just the biggest prize in the whole camp. What do you think?

Then all three began roughing Matt up as they laughed. Jarek said, If we pull this off, we’ll be famous.

OK, Matt said. Then let’s go to our new barrack, and I will tell you what I have come up with. As they approached the barrack, Matt stopped outside the door and whispered, When we go inside, just talk normal. Nothing about the Honor Book until we search the barrack for a hidden microphone. If we find that they have bugged the barrack, we will try and use that to our advantage.

Once inside, as they talked, they looked under and through everything while talking of how proud they were to have the opportunity to steal the Honor Book. As Frank examined his cot, he found a wire that had been attached to the backside of one of the cot legs along with a small receiver that had been attached under the cross support at the end facing the center of the barrack. He motioned for Matt and the others to come and look.

Matt looked at the end of the cot and said, Well, let’s plan on 0200 hours on Sunday night. That will give us time to make a plan and gather the things we need. After dinner, let’s meet back here, and we can start planning. For now, go and put together any ideas you have.

As Matt was talking, he was also writing on a piece of paper: Let’s go to the map orientation building. It should be empty. Make sure you’re not followed, and don’t let anyone see you enter the building.

The map orientation building was one of the smallest training buildings on the base and was located at the north side of the clearing along with seven other training buildings. It was pretty much in the middle, across from the block building. Matt had chosen it for his headquarters due to the fact that it was seldom used after the first two weeks of training. When Matt entered, Jarek and Barry were already sitting at a table in the back, away from the door, but Frank hadn’t arrived yet. They waited for nearly thirty minutes before Frank joined them. He told them that he was pretty sure he was being followed by Recruit Terry Stanfield and that he had to lose him, which was why he was late.

Matt started by saying, "There is a reason no recruit has ever stolen the Honor Book. The staff at the Fish Factory are all professionals, and they don’t intend for any recruit new to special operations to show them up. We can expect them to do just about anything to stop us from succeeding. When I chose you, I purposely stayed away from anyone I felt might be careless and give us away. You are the three I have