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Voyager 2: Full Circle
Voyager 2: Full Circle
Voyager 2: Full Circle
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Voyager 2: Full Circle

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The past can come back to haunt youbut it can save you, too.
Thats a lesson Bane Skiles learns in a story that begins when Hiroshi Ishikawa is commissioned as a lieutenant in the Imperial Navy. His life, he believes, is set for him, but its changed by events beyond his control.
Then, on August 3, 1943, PT boat 165 of Squadron 10 is hiding in a cove off the beaches of Vonavona in the Solomon Island chain. As the ships captain, Skiles waits patiently and silently for the enemy.
What he doesnt know then is that the action of that night will return to him years later when his grandmother foresees the Voyager sailing with black sails on a black sea. Skiles struggles to understand what the vision means and wonders if its connected to the past or his future.
Skiles gets some answers when he slips into the past in a story mixed with stolen treasure, lies, deceit, and the one thing in life he thought he had lost.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateApr 18, 2015
ISBN9781504906715
Voyager 2: Full Circle
Author

D. R. VerValin

About the Author Dave VerValin attended Elmhurst High School in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and graduated from Purdue University in 1972. After a tour of duty in Vietnam from 1967 to 1969, Mr. VerValin continued his military career in the Indiana Air National Guard, retiring at the rank of major. In his civilian life, Mr. VerValin was a construction project engineer, retiring in 2013. Today, Dave lives in Tipp City, Ohio, with his wife, Judy.

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    Voyager 2 - D. R. VerValin

    © 2015 D.R. Vervalin. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 04/27/2018

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-0672-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-0673-9 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-0671-5 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2015905699

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Acknowledgments

    Prologue

    Part 1   Before the Beginning

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Part 2   A New Start

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Chapter 30

    References

    Look For D.R. VerValin’s Next Book

    Prologue

    Endnotes

    To my wife Judy,

    my inspiration and joy.

    Acknowledgments

    I want to thank several people and organizations whose support and encouragement are greatly appreciated. Without them, this endeavor would have never set sail.

    First, I wish to thank the women in my family: my mother Lorraine and sister Linda, whose continued support kept me going through some tough times; to my daughter Amy, who is always there with support and who provided one of the first edits; and of course to my biggest fan, Judy, my sounding board and mentor. Without her loving patience and unwavering support, this story would never have been written.

    Next, I want to thank the men and women who support PT Boat Inc. at Battleship Cove in Fall River, Massachusetts, particularly those who frequent the PT Boat message board. The organization and the message board have served as a source for much of the information included in this book and its predecessor. Thank you for your help, knowledge, and assistance.

    A Word About Time: I used military time and civilian time throughout the book. Generally, however, I used military time in those chapters then the charters are involved in military operations. For those readers who are not familiar with the 24 hour military clock it is really quite simple. All time less than 12:00 o’clock is morning or A.M., and any P.M. time is that time which you see on you watch plus 12 hours. Thus 2:00 P.M. is noted as 14:00 hours, 7:00 P.M. is 19:00 so on and so forth.

    Prologue

    Today, the Hawaiian Islands are modern islands, busy with agriculture, imports and exports, manufacturing, and, of course, tourism. Most of us think of the later when we consider this beautiful place, and for the most part, the paradise we presume it to be is true. The blue water, sandy beaches, nearly perfect weather, and fabulous resorts offer a wonderful spot for unforgettable getaways and vacations. However, we would be hard-pressed to find the Hawaii our fathers and grandfathers knew during WWII. We see instead what we want to see, paradise wrapped up in a commercial tourist bow, a standard seven-day vacation package. This was not the Hawaii of WWII or, for that matter, the years that followed. True changes happened even before the war. The first large residential growth started primarily in Honolulu and the new hotels sprouted up along Waikiki Beach, but the largest part of the Hawaiian Islands, particularly the outer isles, were agriculturally based, peppered with small farms and producing primarily crops of sugarcane and pineapple.

    The transformation of Hawaii began with whaling, in the early 1800s, and was followed shortly afterwards by the establishment of international trade routes. There was also great missionary influence during the 1850s. A few years later, the agricultural development and the international significance of the islands as a military supply depot for navy ships attracted the attention of foreign governments to the area, mainly Russia, Germany, Japan, and the United States. All viewed the islands, Pearl Harbor in particular, as a stepping stone by which global trade could be secured. The country that controlled the islands would be capable of resupplying their navy and secure a prime spot in the new and growing Pacific trade. The quaint Royal government that ruled the island was brushed aside by the U.S. in a coup d’état, and the islands and its native peoples became the pawns of big business and a new government, whose fair dealing with native Americans was anything but honorable. From the latter 1900s to the mid-1930s, government land deals favored big business, and nonexistent land ownership policies helped to swindle the land from the native people’s grasp.

    After World War II, the military buildup of the islands and the commercial development to support it gave way to the tourism. As our fathers and grandfathers returned with their wives and loved ones in tow, to show them a little of the paradise they remembered, word spread of the majestic beauty and unique splendor of the place, and a large influx of population soon followed. The rest, as they say, is history.

    Part 1

    Before the Beginning

    Chapter 1

    Present Day, Maui News Office, Kahului, Maui, 8:00 a.m.

    Tom Derek, editor-in-chief of Maui News, leaned out his office door. Hey, Bill, can I see you for a minute?

    Bill Wise looked up from his desk, grabbed a notebook and pen, then headed for Tom’s office. Bill, a very emotional man, had earlier sent Tom two drafts of stories he had put together over the weekend. The first was his assignment: a review of Maui retirement communities. The second, however, was a story Bill wrote on his own intuition, the tale of one of the residents he met, a wonderful human interest piece about a voyage around the world. He worried that he might have made a fool of himself submitting such a story, since his editor had not asked for it. He nervously tapped on the doorframe, then stepped hesitantly into the office.

    Tom looked up from his desk and waved him in. Take a seat, Tom said, then glanced back at his computer screen.

    Bill slid into one of two chairs in front of Tom’s desk and tried to read the expression on his face. His stomach turned in knots, the same feeling he’d had when his eighth grade teacher use to call on him to do an algebra equation on the blackboard.

    Tom looked up from the computer and sat back in his chair.

    All of the sudden, Bill began to feel nauseous. Did I botch my first assignment? He worried. The assignment had seemed relatively simple, and he feared that maybe he should have put more into it.

    I looked over your piece on the retirement communities, Tom said in a low voice, wearing a look of dissatisfaction. It was okay. We’ll run it after you finalize it.

    Wait. Just…okay? Bill sank even lower in the chair.

    While you covered all the points I wanted, I could tell your heart wasn’t in it. I admit that it’s not the kind of story that stir’s a man’s blood, but see if you can breathe a little more soul into it in your final draft. Take the next hour or two and finish it up, then let me take one more look. Also, Bill, next time, give your assignment all you’ve got, and don’t go racing off on another story without completing the one I asked for.

    Bill’s hands and feet began to sweat.

    Speaking of the second story, though, the one about this old Skiles fella… Well, that was a damn good story! I love it! In fact, we’re gonna feature it in our Sunday edition. You did the right thing following your instincts this time, but remember that your instincts may not always be right. After you finish the piece on the retirement communities, there are two things I want you to do.

    Yes? Bill said, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

    First, finish your report on Skiles. Second, see if he’ll tell you the rest of the story. I’m on the edge of my seat, wondering how it all wraps up.

    Really? Bill said, sitting up in astonishment.

    Yeah, really. Now get outta here…and, Bill…

    Yes? Bill asked, standing.

    Nice work.

    Thanks, Boss, Bill said, then quickly turned and walked out of the office.

    He really couldn’t believe his luck, but deep down, he had known all along that the Skiles story was worth it. He floated across the newsroom floor and found himself typing away before he even realized it. He stopped, took a deep breath, collected himself, then tried to concentrate on the retirement story. Within an hour, he had completed the final draft. Tom’s enthusiastic comments about his second story were contagious, and it helped breathe new life into the first. Bill felt much better about it as he pushed the send key.

    He looked at his screen for a second, then opened his file drawer and pulled a file marked, Skiles. He placed it on his desk, opened it, and looked down at the telephone number he’d written there. His watch told him it was 11:00 a.m., and he was sure that, with any luck, he could catch Skiles before he left for lunch.

    When the phone rang in Bane Skiles’s apartment, the old man laid down the book he was reading and wheeled himself over to answer it. Yeah? he said, with the phone snug against his ear.

    "Mr. Skiles, this is Bill Wise, with Maui News."

    Who?

    "Bill Wise, from the News. Remember me? I was at your birthday party."

    Bane paused, then said, Oh yeah! The newspaper fellow.

    Yes, that’s right, Bill replied. Mr. Skiles, our paper would like to run your story as the Sunday feature. At your party, you mentioned that there was more to the story, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to tell me the rest. Bill held his breath, knowing the old man could easily refuse.

    Skiles paused, then finally said, Sure. How about tomorrow, around 8:00 a.m., in the community center reception hall?

    Did you say 8:00? Bill asked.

    Yes.

    Sure. I’ll be there.

    Okay. Bring a dozen donuts and a half-gallon container of coffee with cups.

    Will do, Bill excitedly replied, not really thinking about what he was agreeing to. I’ll see you at 8:00 a.m. When he hung up, he did a little happy dance, then stopped and suddenly wondered why the old man had requested so many donuts and so much coffee. Oh well, he said to himself. If that’s what the old guy wants, that’s what the old guy will get! I’m about to do a Sunday feature!

    * * *

    Tuesday morning, Bill pulled into a visitor’s parking spot at the Kalama Retirement Community. He shut off the car and grabbed the box of donuts, a big jug of coffee, some cups, and sugar and creamer, then carefully slid out of his seat with his arms full. He closed the door with a swing of his hip, then walked toward the front lobby doors. He smiled up at the crystal-blue sky and noticed the colorful flowers about the entrance and the ornate metal columns that supported the large overhang in front of the building. He carefully grabbed the front door handle with his free right hand and pulled hard, then stepped into the lobby. "Hi. I’m Bill Wise, with Maui News, he said to the receptionist. I’m here to see Mr. Bane Skiles."

    Sure, she answered with a smile. They’re already waiting for you in the reception hall. Please follow me. She stood from her chair and led him down the hall.

    They? Bill thought, wondering who he was about to meet, since Skiles hadn’t mentioned any guests at their meeting.

    The room was large, with off-white walls and red floral wallpaper here and there, true mid-70s décor, a detail Bill had missed on his last visit. Several tables and chairs neatly sat about the room, readied for the next event. In the far corner sat four people, and Bill recognized them at once: old man Skiles, his son David, his daughter June, and Suzanna Baker, the retirement community manager. Bill had taken her out for a quick dinner after the old man’s birthday party the week before. That meal had ended on a conformable note, and he’d actually been contemplating calling her for a date. Now, since she was an invited guest, he wished he’d have thought to douse himself with cologne. God knows I can use all the help I can get, he thought, looking at her with a sheepish grin on his face.

    Hi, folks, Bill said as he laid the donuts and coffee on the table next to them. I wasn’t expecting…everyone.

    Dad called yesterday afternoon and invited us over. Is it all right? June responded.

    Sure, Bill said, smiling again as he glanced at Suzanna. And how are you? he said.

    I’m fine, she replied, returning a grin of her own.

    Bill grabbed the chair between Suzanna and June and slid up to the table. I hope I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, Bill said, looking at Bane and then nodded at the donuts and coffee.

    That depends, young man.

    On what?

    On whether or not there’s a sugar-glazed chocolate donut in that box.

    There are two, in fact, Bill replied as he opened the box. Who wants coffee? Bill asked as he began to fill the first cup.

    A round of hands went up.

    There’s cream and sugar in the box, he said. Before we begin, let me bring you up to speed. As you might remember, I was here last Monday, doing a piece on the retirement center, when Suzanna introduced me to you. I was intrigued by some of what she told me about your trip around the world, Mr. Skiles. After looking over my notes, I felt it would be a great story for our paper. I wrote it over the weekend and submitted it my editor yesterday. To say he loved it would be an understatement. In fact, he wants to run it as a feature in our Sunday edition.

    You’re kidding! June replied.

    Nope, Bill said. It will be a big story, not only about the voyage but also covering the war and Hawaii, a Hawaii most of us have never seen. That brings me to why I’m here. If you remember, sir, he said, turning to Bane, you indicated that there is a second part to the story, and you said you’d tell me about how it all ends.

    All eyes turned toward Bane.

    The old man took a sip of coffee, then set the cup down. Sure, he said. That’s why I’m here. I invited my son and daughter because I want them to hear the story one last time, and I invited Suzanna because…well, I hear you two went out for supper after my birthday party. Being a hopeless romantic, I figured you might as well have a second chance. It seems you can use some help.

    The group laughed as Bill blushed and tried to think of a quick comeback. Thanks, Mr. Skiles. Any help you can give me in that regard is most appreciated.

    The table fell silent as everyone picked up a cup of coffee.

    Bane pushed away from the table. He wheeled his chair to a window and looked out across the retirement home grounds, toward the blue Pacific. He sat there for a few seconds, closed his eyes, as if gathering his thoughts, then finally began to speak. Well, it all started before I set sail in ’41, really years before that. I guess that’s where we should start…

    * * *

    If you were to ask most Americans when World War II started, the great majority would say it was on December 7, 1941, the date when the U.S. was attacked by the Japanese. However, in Europe, the war began when Germany invaded Poland on September 1, 1939. The Japanese invaded China to begin the second Sino Japanese war on July 7, 1937. The fact is that Pearl Harbor was the culmination, the horrible, collision of both of these wars, when the Japanese military turned its attention from what seemed to be an endless war with China to begin what they believed would be a quick, relatively easy breakout from the colonial stranglehold in the Pacific. In the eyes of the Imperial government, its military, and its business leaders, that powerful hold included not only the European powers but also the United States.

    Japan had matured since Commodore Perry sailed into Tokyo Bay in 1853, and as it developed, the Japanese government became aware of the influence other world powers were having on the Chinese mainland and, for that matter, across the Pacific. While these expansions were primarily about developing trade, these countries were also expanding their military power, establishing supply bases throughout the Pacific isles. The bases helped to underline their already expanding control of India and French Indonesia.

    Japan has been in fear of foreign invasion since its conception and viewed the Korean Peninsula as strategically as the U.S. views Central America and the Hawaiian Islands. Any intervention of a foreign power into the Korean Peninsula would upset the fragile balance of power. In a series of wars, starting with the first Sino Japanese skirmish in 1894, followed by the Japanese involvement with the colonial powers in the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, the Russo- Japanese war in 1904, the invasion of Manchuria in 1931, and finally, the second Sino Japanese war in 1937, Japan secured its venerable east coast by building a first-class navy to protect the homeland from any sea power. The Japanese army looked at the rest of Asia, from China south to Guinea and Borneo and as far east as India, as fertile land for trade and development. By 1941, Japan was convinced of three things: Its army and navy were invincible; the spoils of war were limitless, consisting of gold, silver, precious stones, art, and literature; and finally, the world—or at least the world powers—were oblivious, otherwise occupied in Europe and showing little interest in Asia. If the U.S. Navy, establishing its new Pacific command in Hawaii, could be destroyed or even pushed back, the treasures of the Orient, not to mention future trade and further development of the Japanese Empire, were within their grasp.

    Chapter 2

    18 January 1942, Tokyo Army Hospital

    Lieutenant Hiroshi Ishikawa awoke from his surgery. His eyes focused on the white ceiling and light fixture over his bed. He felt nothing, and all he could hear were muffled, unintelligible noises. On his left, a young nurse in her mid-twenties leaned over and looked at him with great concern. She turned to her left and said something, but he couldn’t hear it. He tried to lift his arms, but they were deadweight, still under the effect of anesthesia. Since he could do nothing else, Hiroshi gave in and drifted off to sleep.

    He’s coming to again, Doctor, the nurse said, looking across the recovery room.

    Good, Dr. Toahigi said, glancing down at the lieutenant’s charts. He tucked the clipboard under his arms and walked to the foot of the bed. He’ll drift in and out for several minutes. When he’s awake again, give him some water, then call me. I’ll be in my office.

    A few minutes later, Hiroshi awoke again. He moved his head from right to left and halted his gaze on the nurse sitting next to him. Finally, his hazy mind began to interpret what he was seeing. He was in a hospital, clean and white, and they were taking good care of him, a far cry from the past week. Or was it two? He struggled to collect his thoughts, then fell asleep again.

    Chapter 3

    3 June 1941, Imperial Naval Academy, Tokyo, Japan

    A warm gentle breeze caressed the parade grounds as four companies of graduating Imperial Naval officers stood at attention. They stood like a field of statues, their white uniforms gleaming in the morning sun as they awaited the address from legendary Fleet Admiral Prince Fushimi Hiroyaus. In the second company, second row, second from the right stood Ensign Ishikawa; he had finally fulfilled the first part of his dream by becoming an officer in His Majesty’s navy. It had been four long years since his acceptance into the Academy. His grades in high school and his desire to join the navy were helpful in his appointment, but his father had used his influence with some of the key Academy officers to ensure his acceptance. Since his first day at the Academy, he’d been carefully scrutinized by the staff, more so than any other cadet, and he truly hoped he had pleased them and his family. Because he was graduating in the top 10 percent of his class, he was ready for a choice assignment aboard one of the new Yamato-class battleships, and he was waiting to find out if that wish would also come true. After the ceremony, he would receive his orders. After a two-week leave, he would report for duty, wherever they sent him.

    Without moving his head, he swept his eyes across the stands. In the audience sat high-ranking naval officers and the families of the graduating class, including Hiroshi’s mother and father, Maiko and Hikaru. He’d only been able to spend brief time with him prior to the ceremony, a formal meeting and not at all what he expected. His father had brought a guest with him, Admiral Kumamoto, and Hiroshi hoped that was a good sign that his dream of assignment to a major ship of the line was about to be fulfilled. Little did Hiroshi know that the admiral and his father would alter his plans, exchanging them for something far more glorious, a far more important role in the Imperial Navy, a chance to help the emperor himself.

    After thirty minutes of pomp and ceremony, the Academy commandant stepped up to the microphone. We are honored today to have a very special guest speaker. You are all aware of how his heroism and leadership transformed our navy from a regional power into the finest sea power in the world. Class of ’40, officers of His Majesty’s armed forces, ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to present His Majesty, Prince Hiroyasu.

    Prince Hiroyasu stepped up to the podium and adjusted the microphone. He stood silently for a moment, peering out at the graduating class, as if to eye each cadet. You are the sword of Japan, he said, words that swelled each young, strong chest. Your training has hardened you, given you an edge stronger than that of any officer in the world. You’ll soon be given your orders to join the fleet, one that remains undefeated and now guards our beloved homeland from any and all who wish us harm. Since my early days in the navy, we have grown. Today, we have the strongest fleet in the world. Soon, you will see that power unleashed on those who desire to control our trade, to determine our very lives. The result of this action will ensure Japan’s rightful place as the most powerful military in the world. To achieve this goal and maintain it, however, you must do your part. You must use all the knowledge and training we have provided and be willing to sacrifice your life, if need be, to ensure that our great nation succeeds. Let this day, then, be your commitment to the emperor, and may your deeds and your valor in whatever you face bring honor upon you, your families, and your country. The prince paused for a minute and scanned the class of young officers with his eyes again. Join me, brothers, in the adventure of a lifetime. We look forward to your service alongside us. With that, the prince quickly stepped back from the podium, turned, and started back to his seat.

    The school commandant stepped back up to the microphone. The graduating class will file in front of the speaker stand to receive your orders. Once you have received them, return to your company. When the last cadet returns to your ranks, you will be dismissed.

    The line of cadets obediently walked, single file, in front of the commandant as the navy band played a military tune. The rows of candidates in front of Hiroshi started across the field, his eyes searched the crowd for his family, and he quickly spotted his father, immersed in conversation with Admiral Kumamoto. To Hiroshi, his father’s life had always been a mystery. A rather tall man, almost six feet, he stood above the crowd, even more distinguished by his gray hair and mustache. He was a member of the Imperial Diet, one of 150 representatives nominated to the house by the emperor.¹ In his position, he enjoyed the presence of the crown prince, lesser princes, viscounts, barons, and 66 of the highest 6,000 taxpayers in Japan. His work in the house kept him away from his family, so much so that not even Hiroshi’s mother knew what her husband really did. In spite of the sacrifices, though, the position made the Ishikawa family one of the richest in Japan. Ever since Hiroshi was a small boy, he’d been kept away from the family business and groomed for service to the emperor. Whether this was to ensure Hiroshi’s future or his father’s gratification, Hiroshi had never been able to tell, but now he was right where he wanted to be.

    The cadet next to him quickly turned to the right, and Hiroshi followed him across the field. As they approached the viewing stand, each cadet’s name was called. The cadets saluted the commandant with their right hand, received the sealed orders with their left, then moved quickly across the stage, following the line of cadets back to their positions within the company ranks. As Hiroshi stepped up to the commandant, his name was read, and his orders were handed to him. He did not receive a smile or even a thanks for a job well done, just a rather stern, blank stare on the commandant’s face. Hiroshi saluted, then stepped across the stage. It was quick and efficient, military to the nth degree. The time for self-expression would be later, with his family, after the ceremony had ended.

    As the last man took his place among the ranks of cadets, the commandant returned to the microphone. The graduating class of 1941 is dismissed, he said. Company Commanders, take charge of your troops.

    The company commanders saluted the commandant and quickly did an about-face toward their respective companies. Company dismissed! they shouted in unison.

    Hiroshi shook hands with the new officers around him, then searched the class for friends. He met most in front of the reviewing stand, the rendezvous they had agreed upon before the ceremony. Several had already opened their orders and discovered that they’d be serving aboard destroyers. No one had received orders for a battleship or aircraft carrier. Hiroshi did not open his orders right away, amongst his buddies, as he wished to do so in front of his family.

    A few minutes later, the group disbanded, and Hiroshi searched the crowd for his family. He spotted them exiting the stands and walking his way: his father in a tuxedo, then Admiral Kumanoto, and his mother following the men, dressed in her blue komon.² Her walk hindered by the dress and the traditional Japanese footwear, geta. It dawned on Hiroshi again that the presence of Admiral Kumamoto could only mean one thing: His assignment would place him on a battleship after all. He was certain his father had used his influence to secure it.

    Hiroshi stopped short of his father and saluted Admiral Kumamoto, then bowed to his father. His mother stood behind her husband, wearing no expression on her face.

    I am extremely pleased with you, Hiroshi, his father said. I have received favorable reports on your progress from the Academy since your enrollment. I have brought Admiral Kumamoto with me to talk to you about your assignment. If you will just open your orders, you will see that you…have not been assigned.

    Hiroshi’s mind went blank, and he was rendered speechless. So caught off

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