On the first February night of 1944, the fast battleship USS Indiana had just concluded a day of relentless artillery fire. Exhausted yet unscathed, she and her crew had pulled back to open waters, her decks still echoing with the day's bombardments.
That night, the ship was tasked with the critical yet hazardous duty of refueling four destroyers, where the silence of the night was paramount for success. Captain J.M. Steele, commanding the 35,000-ton vessel, faced the challenges of darkness and stealth. As Indiana navigated through the pitch-black sea, Steele supervised the intricate dance of hoses, pumps, and fuel lines against the silent backdrop.
Suddenly, the quiet was broken by the unforeseen approach of ships from their own task force, unwittingly headed for collision. In a split-second decision, Steele ordered Indiana to turn right, hoping to avert the looming disaster.
However, as the imposing USS Washington loomed out of the darkness. Steele’s heart sank. His last-minute command, meant to prevent disaster, had instead steered them directly into peril. Powerless, all now the 2,500-person crew could do was brace for impact.