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The story of the Indianapolis is a perfect example of something that happens only because of war, but what happens after the famous sinking of the ship is one of those tales that sends tears down your face—not just because of the human suffering but because of the human reaction to it.

The Indianapolis, a Portland-class heavy cruiser, was on its way toward the Philippines when it was torpedoed at night by a Japanese submarine.

There were between 1,100 and 1,200 men on board, and more than 300 died in those first 12 minutes. Many of the survivors were grievously wounded. Stanton, one of the main survivors he writes about, described hearing someone screaming in the compartment next to him right after the torpedo hit. When he got to the door, he realized it was his friend, the ship’s dentist. But the entire compartment was on fire, and he had no way to save him. He had to leave him to burn to death—in the first two minutes of the disaster.

Being in the ocean at night is both beautiful and terrifying. In deep waters, you have no idea what’s below you. If there's no moon, it can be pitch black, and you can't see anything. For me, personally, the idea of being stranded in the middle of the ocean in total darkness is a nightmare. And I think that’s why these stories fascinate me—because war casts these figures into unimaginable situations. If they gave up, we would understand. But the fact that they don’t? That’s the triumph of the human spirit.

Some of the sailors said they could see sharks below them and even recognized some, naming them. One sailor named a huge tiger shark "Oscar." Eventually, another sailor, armed with only a two-inch penknife, tried to stab one of them. Some survivors were on rafts that slowly disintegrated over time.

The sinking of the Indianapolis would become the worst disaster in U.S. Navy history.

Instead of being rescued quickly, these men remained in the water for days. They had no water to drink, and the psychological torture of being surrounded by water they couldn’t drink drove many mad. It’s the ultimate cruel irony—like being stranded in a desert with water all around you, but it's poisonous.

Ultimately, they were rescued not because anyone was looking for them, but because a pilot happened to spot them. He swooped low and saw the sharks attacking them. Stanton writes about Lieutenant Adrian Marks, one of the first to arrive on the scene. Due to the secrecy surrounding the mission, the rescuers didn’t even know who they were saving. The first question they asked upon picking up a survivor was, “Who the hell are you, and where are you from?”

I think we are fascinated by these horrible tales because they affirm life. It’s not just about how the survivors conducted themselves in the moment, but how the experience changed them. The silent heroism of living with it afterward is just as remarkable.

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