On April 14th, the smoke of cannon obscured the shoreline as the fire was kept hot and intense most of the day. Grimy powder monkeys' kept bringing powder forth from the hold in determined fashion; their soot covered faces could be seen traveling up and down the starboard side. Hitch, a young boy of nine from New Hampshire, just on board as the fleet set off, brought a bucket of cool water from cannon to cannon, handing a cupful to any gunner who may have time to take a quick swallow, reviving them from an ungodly thirst, along with the choking acrid smoke filling their lungs from the ongoing cannonade. After a lull in firing, the fleet led by the USS Connecticut, of three ships of the line escorted by four frigates, sail south and easterly along the rebel coast, the crews are secured from battle stations and sent below for a meal.
Late that afternoon, a lookout aboard the USS Connecticut, noticed a pall of smoke rising from the horizon as the sun began to take cover for the night. He bellowed out, "Smoke on the horizon bearing off the larboard bow, ship over the horizon!" Soon after, the captain scanning the horizon for some shape handed his glass to young Lieutenant Crissby saying, "Lad your eyes are young, can you see the enemy?" Crissby put the glass to his eye and stared intently. Suddenly out of the haze of dying sunlight he could see a shape, his imagination started running wild, it looked like a gray monster, a sort of giant crocodile, coming towards them at a pretty good rate. After looking on for a moment, Crissby answered, "Sir it's flying the rebel flag, but I have never seen the like. It bears a long black smoke stack and it's gray in color. Cannon's protrude from all sides. Captain Ramsey pondered for a moment and rubbed his beard. He responded after a moment of thought, Let me see that glass my young lad." After a long hard look, he began again, "Ha, it looks like it is barely able to stay afloat, with one good broadside, we shall knock it off it's beam and send it tumbling over like a turtle in distress!" With that he slammed the glass shut with a flash of anger. Turning to his his 2nd, Commander Todd, with a glare in his eye, he said, "Todd we shall beat to quarters!" Todd, who could not believe what he was seeing, quickly replied, "Aye Aye, sir." Turning so the crew could hear, he yelled out, "We shall beat to quarters, and run out the larboard battery!" The gun crews, experienced from much practice and toil, had the guns run out and prepared to fire in eight minutes.
The Gray Monster
As the gray monster came steadily on, the forward rifle on the ironclad fired a shot, which smashed into a twelve pounder amidships, on the main deck of Connecticut. The gun carriage lifted up, and blew into pieces with a sharp flash. The gun flew up and slammed down on top of the rammer, killing him instanstly. The pointed wooden shrapnel went flying about the air with deadly precision, killing two marines, and wounding another. The hot shot bounced and ignited several explosive shells, after an upturned powder bucket ignited, causing a deafening explosion, which rocked the ship with a terrible force, sending several men floundering into the sea to meet Davy Jones, some on fire and screaming. A huge billowing cloud of black smoke undulated into the dying daylight, from the injured Connecticut, which could be seen clearly for miles around.
USS Connecticut on fire
Captain Ramsey began shouting orders to get the fire out. He then turned to his Gunnery Officer in charge of the larboard division, 1st Lieutenant Granger, and screamed through the fire and smoke, "Fire as your guns bear, and send them to hell, Granger! Granger wasting no time ran from battery to battery yelling fire. The first shots that rang out missed wide, splashing a hundred yards past the monster. Soon the second and third gun decks were answering the call. A 24 pounder got a hit on the smoke stack, knocking it to one side. Soon after, a 32 lb. carronade smashed into the bow right next to the forward seven inch rifle, bouncing off with a great metallic thud. Soon a couple of balls hit very close to the same spot an unhinged a layer of two inch armor plating, which fell an hung helplessly to one side. Most shots however, hissed and streamed past the gray hulk splashing into the sea far behind.
The rebel ironclad now turned away, with a steady stream of smoke billowing out of her disfigured smokestack. She was soon out of the range of the Connecticut's long guns, which desperately kept firing in an effort to stop her. Soon, it was felt onboard Connecticut that all was over, after all the rebels were steaming away at full speed. A cheer of victory began with Union sailors and marines waving their hats, their swords, many doing far more rude gestures, and shaking their fists. The officers' soon got the men under control, though a few men that had lost friends had to be put into submission, until they calmed down. There was a definite feeling of invincibility on the flagship of the fleet. However, for those wounded or dying below decks, waiting for their turn to see Doctor Maynard, or his assistant Mister Doyle, the situation was far from promising. Many would die before they would be properly attended to. The fire was fought with great fervor and though under control, it's spread caused many casualties. Most of the ship's sails were severrely damaged, and new canvas would have to be put in place before the ship would be able to maneuver. The Connecticut was in short, a sitting duck.
Below decks on board Connecticut the situation was grim, many sailors were burned and disfigured. Many young boys and midshipmen tried to help the injured and dying men, at least feel comfortable, with the smoke of a pipe, or a cool drink of water. Most were trying to lift men in an out of surgery, which was continous, and the screams of the injured terrifying an unendless. Mister Doyle sadly reported that the ships supply of laudanum had expired, and wine or rum was being used for pain. Doyle, just on board since the ship sailed from New York, is a volunteer, who practiced as a civilian physician. A practice he had been in for ten years, with his wife, a nurse who worked with him. She had also taken up the call for her country, and was at the moment in Washington D.C. He could not think of that now, there was too much going on, too much work to do. Right now he had to saw off a leg that had been burned beyond repair, the rest of the precious laudanum used up on this brave lad who could not be more than sixteen. He was screaming for hearth and home, but the medicine began to tell, and he was quite calm during the operation. Afterwards two young midshipmen took him away to the recovery area.
Back on the quarterdeck, Captain Ramsey stood tall watching the enemy ironclad through his glass. Soon he put the glass down and stood in disbelief. After a moment of shock, he bellowed out, "She is turning about!" Continuing on with a fury he screamed, "Stand firm by your guns men, she means to ram us!" In a moment the clatter of powder being primed was heard throughout the ship. The Virginia was steaming at full speed, her menacing ram, ready to impale her defenseless prey. At three hundred yards out the Connecticut's guns rang out with a thunderous broadside, everyone on her felt a rush of adrenaline, as the crash of fire echoed throughout the stillness. The ship jerked back suddenly from the power of twenty-five guns of all sizes going off in a well trained succession. Cannonballs ripped through the dark waves, some smashing into the monster, with a dying thud, sending a metallic twang through the air. Nothing slowed down the enemy vessel, she was impervious and impenetrable to the cold steel of the old wooden man o' war. Within fifty yards, a group of remaining marines fired a volley of musketry, along with grape cannister from some guns on the main deck. This too, was thrown aside as if Poseidon himself laughed at the gesture with a slap of his hand. On she came with fury from hell behind her, nothing on this earthly ocean could stop her.
At full steam, she punctured the Connecticut's hull amidships below the waterline. The giant ram ripped through wooden timbers with a sickening crack, that seemed to shove the keel back as if by a blow from Thor's mighty hammer. Angry seawater rushed in, with no mercy, many men were drowned with no chance to escape, as they were trapped by debris, only able to struggle in a futile gesture, until death throes took them to a better place. Many were overtaken, so quickly, by the sudden onrush of flooding water, that they had no time to react. Most perished, without ever knowing what hit them. On the gundecks fire was kept up against the monster, as shot and ball bounced off her without doing any harm. Some men, lit fuses, and threw bombs at her, trying to aim for the opening in the hull, where the forward seven inch rifle protruded from above the bow. One such bomb exploded close to the opening, and shrapnel richocheted inside with a loud bang. Screams were heard from inside the wicked craft, as a force of flames and a belch of smoke came bursting forth, from the forward gunport. The ironclad's engine seemed to creak and strain as the ram was thrust unforgivingly into the hull of the stricken ship.
On the horizon, the sun was touching very low in the sky, as the battle reached it's zenith. Not far away from Connecticut, were her support ships, who were trying desperately to get into the fray. Events had happened so fast, it seems that steampower, easily took what for hundreds of years was the deciding factor in any naval action, the weather gage. Captain Ramsey, at first was not worried about protection for his flagship, on the contrary, he felt nothing could touch him. If it did, he felt his fleet was more than close enough to give him due support. He was never more wrong, a new boundary of naval warfare has been crossed. The old days at this moment, were gone, and naval battles from this day forward, would be fought quite differently, as the capabilities of steam powered ships had to be taken into consideration.
Helplessly, the proud Connecticut listed badly to port, her lower gundeck long since underwater. Captain Ramsey kept up the desperate defense against the enemy, though brave and futile, he had now to think of his men. He gave the order to abandon ship. After that a sharp metallic bang rose up through the hull like a storm. The ironclad's ram had snapped in half and the rebel ship was backing away, with as much steam as it could muster. On the injured Union vessel, there seemed for a moment that the ship thrust back up almost to an even keel. And then quickly began to list hard to port again and men began sliding from one side of the ship to another, along with anything not tied down, from sea casks to gun carriages. An effort was made to send the cutters' down to the choppy waves below. Two boats were able to be lowered on the starboard side, and one on the port side. Men began to jump into the almost freezing water, as the sun was being replaced by the black of night.
Below decks the horror was made apparent as the wounded and dying were being overtaken by incoming seawater, hundreds of men met their end. Whoever had a chance to save themselves, had to take action. Some brave lads tried to save some of the poor injured souls, and carry them topside. However, in any life and death situation, it was moreso, each man for himself. Men were steadily jumpimg over the side into the unforgiving cold black water, and even though they escaped the sinking ship, their chance of suvival was not assured. The three boats did try to pick up survivors, and were able to pick individuals up out of the sea. Soon the boats were filled and could do no more to help their fellows stranded bobbing up and down in the darkened waves.
On board Connecticut, Captain Kyle Ramsey watched with a scowl as the enemy ironclad steamed away into the night. She was not in good shape, and had some distance to go to make it to safety, over the sandbars. Otherwise she would be trapped by the enemy fleet, with no place to go. Her ram was broken and she was taking on water forward. The damaged smokestack was putting forth erratic steam, as she slowly hobbled away. Ramsey, then with a salute to his brave crew retired to his cabin, where he would bravely and heroically, meet his end. Moments later the once proud Connecticut, disappeared forever into the cold deep dark depths, the top of her mainmast the last to go down, as the slap of the darkened waves, hid her from the view of human eyes for the rest of time.
I'll be paying attention to this one. But What mod are you using?
