One would think that if they were to become catastrophically lost, stranded, marooned,

that a major improvement to the situation would be if a thousand of one's closest friends could somehow be with them.

One would think.

But with rations low and sharks plucking those friends away one by one like hors d'oeuvres, chumming the waters, one might be better off alone.

Welcome to Maroon, harrowing tales of the catastrophically lost. I'm Jack Luna. This is Aaron Hable.

March 31st, 1945.

The USS Indianapolis engages in the attack on Okinawa, Japan.

Japanese planes, including those of the kamikaze variety, attempt to destroy the cruiser,

but Indy and its crew managed to take out much of the threat.

One plane, though, did get past her defenses and dropped

a bomb on it before the pilot crashed into the sea. The bomb smashed through the deck,

through the mess hall, through the birthing compartment, where the sailors' bunks were,

through the fuel tanks, and through the ship's keel before exploding in the water underneath.

In all, nine sailors lost their lives,

and the ship was left listing to one side. An evaluation revealed that the cruiser could make it back

to the states, but it wouldn't do so as it normally would. It would take much longer, and due to the damage,

there was no way to supply the usual amount of fresh water for the crew.

Fresh water would be rationed and showers were done with salt water.

Since the ship was listing several degrees to one side, the crew experienced a less than smooth ride, to put it mildly.

Yeah, and I remember seeing some footage of this, and then coming home, they come in to San Francisco under the Golden Gate Bridge and all the men on deck looking up at it, marveling, but it's kind of limping home here.

And as it did limp home this April of 1945, there came some major developments in the war.

In that single month, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt,

...