Maiden of the USS Indianapolis

Day 4

By morning, the Commander Frederick and his group were spread out, caught in varying currents and carried away from each other.
But that was the least of our problems.
The sharks had returned, teasing the crew by brushing the undersides of their feet and swimming in circles around the men. A couple more men had died overnight, their burns and the salt water proving too much for them. Griebs also discovered another problem.
Over the course of the days, the merciless sun has wreaked havoc on the skin of the men and everyone had sunburns in some area. But the sun and water had combined to be a deadly force on the bamboo life jackets, and most of the life jackets had been crumbling away into nothing since day one. Pulp remnants floated on top of the waves. Many of the men now had nothing but the bones of their life jackets strapped to their chests.
I hovered worriedly, wringing my hands together. I had known that the life preservers were going to be an issue, but I had hoped and prayed that they would hold out until rescue. Unfortunately the first jacket had failed last night in darkness and the man was slowly lowered into the waves as his strength failed.
I had comforted him as he died, giving him a last burst of courage and ensuring his death was quick.
No one needed to suffer for any longer than they have to.
At least he was at peace now.
But that one man had not been the last and now Gabe was trying to figure out the best way to stay afloat. One group was suspected to having a rowboat, but it was unknown if the boat had survived and if the men had oars. It didn't matter anyway, since that group had drifted off since day one and had not tried to come back. I knew that the boat had survived and that the crew inside the boat-including Captain McVay-had no oars at their disposal.
Gabe and Griebs conferred with the rest of the group. Water lapped into the mouths of everyone, making it difficult to talk. The waves were increasing too, some now reaching over ten feet high.
While Gabe was still talking through a mouth full of salt water, a low buzz could be heard in the sky above them. Everyone's heads immediately whipped upwards, skin and vertebrae crackling from the sudden movement. Two planes were flying above our heads, engines thrumming against the sky.
I couldn't believe my invisible eyes. Two planes! Two! Now we were sure to be rescued.
Griebs was the first to start waving. He waved his hands in large strokes over his head, hollering and shouting at the planes. Gabe and the rest quickly joined in. I shot up another prayer. Could this be it? Could we finally be rescued?
Hope flickered in the eyes of my crew and then died out as the planes continued past their spot. Griebs dropped his hands, shoulders wracking as he started to sob. Even Gabe looked dejected, his usually optimism washed away with the swelling waves.
Then, with a plop, a life raft landed and unfurled beside the group. Shouts of surprise rang out through the morning air as everyone beheld the sight. Salvation! Who knew it could come in such a garish orange.
The planes had circled back around and dropped the raft. They must have realized that we were down here. A radio transmitter was strapped to the inside of the raft and Gabe immediately swam over and hauled himself into the boat to use it. His arms barely got him over the edge of the raft however, his dehydrated body failing on him. Griebs and several other men swam over to help lift him up over the rim and Gabe tumbled in. Everyone clung to the orange raft, listening intently as Gabe turned on the radio.
"This is PV-1, hailing the floaters, over."
The words brought up a cheer from the chapped lips of my men. They hugged each other and clapped each other's backs, celebrating the sound of a strangers voice.
Gabe pushed in a button on the side and brought the radio up to his chapped lips. They cracked and bled as he spoke, but I could see that he did not mind. Salvation was a breath away.
"This is Lieutinant Gabe Duncan with the remaining crew of the USS Indianapolis, I repeat, this is Lieutinant Gabe Duncan with the remaining crew of the USS Indianapolis, over."
A collective breath was held as we waited for the response.
"Read you loud and clear Lieutenant. How many men are with you? Over."
Another cheer went up.
Gabe held up a hand, his arm shaking as everyone quieted.
"There's about 60 of us here, but there's more groups with unknown numbers drifting away from us, over."
"Alright, we have no room for all of you in our planes right now. Word has already been sent back and rescue teams are on their way. Just hang tight, over."
Griebs' shoulders slumped.