A harrowing, adrenaline-charged account of America's worst naval disaster - and of the heroism of the men who, against all odds, survived.On July 30, 1945, the USS Indianapolis was torpedoed in the South Pacific by a Japanese submarine. An estimated 300 men were killed upon impact; close to 900 sailors were cast into the Pacific Ocean, where they remained undetected by the navy for nearly four days and nights. Battered by a savage sea, they struggled to stay alive, fighting off sharks, hypothermia, and dementia. By the time rescue arrived, all but 317 men had died.The captain's subsequent court-martial left many questions unanswered: How did the navy fail to realize the Indianapolis was missing? Why was the cruiser traveling unescorted in enemy waters? And, perhaps most amazing of all, how did these 317 men manage to survive?Interweaving the stories of three survivors - the captain, the ship's doctor, and a young marine - journalist Doug Stanton has brought this astonishing human drama to life in a narrative that is at once immediate and timeless. The definitive account of a little-known chapter in World War II history, In Harm's Way is destined to become a classic tale of war, survival, and extraordinary courage.
A very good read in the fashion of The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors by James D. Hornfischer.
I don't believe I have ever read a book length treatment of the Indianapolis tragedy though dozens and more chapter and article length accounts. I was familiar with the basic outline and many of the details. Stanton is very good at personalizing the story through the eyes of a handful of first-hand accounts by survivors. He does a fantastic job of staging the story into discrete phases. Excellent balance of detail and narrative force.
I did not recall either that the USS Indianapolis had served during the Iwo Jima campaign or that it had been Admiral Spruance's flagship during the campaign.
Stanton also lays out the case that Captain McVay was far less responsible for the consequences of the sinking than was Naval command. Time and again, McVay was given inaccurate information and incomplete information. Time and again communication signals were sent and not received or only partially received such that people from his port of origin and people at his point of destination both believed the other to be tracking the USS Indianapolis.
On the other hand, it would seem McVay over-relied on processes to have worked without confirming them and it would appear, presumably because of the rushed schedule, that there were few or no safety drills as the Indianapolis raced from the US to Tinian to deliver the Hiroshima bomb.
As usually happens in institutions, once there is a tragedy, the real culprits, those that designed the system, are not held to account and the most junior acceptable scapegoat, in this case McVay, is selected for sacrifice to public outrage regardless of degree of culpability.
As an aside, considering Stanton's argument, it made me consider that this persistent enterprise approach actually has an explanation beyond simple cowardice of senior leadership. In a complex system, such as an enterprise, much activity at the most senior levels revolves around mutual trust. The superior officer has to be confident in what the junior officer will do.
If a Vice Admiral fails with great consequence, but who plays a significant role in the enterprise's functioning and whose absence would, from the perspective of trust, be hard to replace, then the easiest response is to choose the scapegoat from the most senior of the lowest subordinates. Vice Admirals were responsible for much of what created the tragedy of the Indianapolis and yet, with a nuclear bomb to deliver and a mainland Japanese invasion to plan, they could not be easily dismissed without grave consequences to those overpowering considerations.
The only drawback to In Harm's Way is that it needed a better editor. The items are minor but once noticed they are hard to overlook. In part, it is a testament to how well most books are edited.
In a book full of moving passages, this one stood out. The protagonists have been in the water three days with hardly any food and no water. Everyone who has survived to this point will survive other than those taken by sharks. In other words, the worst of the culling occurred in the first day and winnowed those with a strong will to live from those more susceptible to despair.
He prayed that his mother would understand why he had not been able to make it home; he prayed that she would know he’d tried his hardest to get there. And then he asked God to forgive him his sins, especially for the killing he had done on Peleliu.
He broke the surface, paddled over to the raft, and hoisted himself up. And then he began scrubbing himself with his T-shirt, rubbing at the smeared oil on his chest and arms. He wanted to be clean because he wanted to be identified if anybody found his body. He realized he’d probAbly be chewed up by sharks, but he hoped they’d at least leave his face. He wanted somebody to be able to recognize him.
Brundige told him, “You still got oil all over you, you know. You stupid thing.” He said it again: “You stupid thing.”
McCoy liked that—You stupid thing. It made him laugh. He was a stupid thing. Sitting in this ocean, he felt like nothing more than a speck. All his life, he had thought he was tough. Now he felt like a speck, and he felt relieved to know the truth. He looked at Payne, Outland, and Gray, who were now passed out, sitting in the water up to their chins. McCoy decided he had better tie them together for safekeeping. He asked Brundige to help, and they drew the boys so close that their foreheads were touching. McCoy and Brundige cinched up all the straps on the vests to prevent their heads from falling into the water. They floated like that inside the raft, their feet dangling. McCoy and Brundige were each in a corner, hanging on the rails.
Sometime before nightfall, they started betting each other about who was going to die first. “I’m sure as shit gonna stay alive longer than you,” McCoy said.
“Like hell,” Brundige shot back. “I’m a Tennessee farmer, and I’m pretty damn tough.”
“Well, I’m a marine from Missourah, and I’m a lot tougher.”
“You go to hell.” After a while, they fell silent and drifted. Around them, Payne, Outland, and Gray started moaning. The sharks were circling the raft again.
“Well,” said Brundige, “I guess nobody’s gonna miss me but my mom and dad.”
“My mother’s gonna miss me,” said McCoy. “And I’m sure my dad will, too. And I also know I’m gonna outlive you.”
“We’ll see.”
“You know,” McCoy said finally, “if some damn shark gets me, I hope the sonofabitch gets indigestion.” He laughed. “I really hope he has a hard time digesting me.”
They fell asleep with their heads resting on each other’s shoulders.
If you don't want to read a book about the Indianapolis, there is always the superb scene in Jaws when Quint relates his experience surviving the sinking of the Indianapolis.
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