On Seas So Crimson

by James Young

  “Got him!” Jacob shouted as he saw the bright flash of the hit on the Japanese cruiser.

  Someone had finally remembered the Houston’s new speaker system in Battle Two and belatedly switched on the TBS. Radio discipline had gone completely to Hell, and Jacob could hear Rear Admiral Glassford trying to order the destroyers that had been to starboard but fallen behind to attack the Japanese cruisers. Meanwhile, the Australia was attempting to break in with a report of more destroyers mauling the Whipple, Peary, Jupiter, and Encounter. The Electra and Exeter were strangely silent.

  Jacob had just enough time to process all this information before the Myoko’s second broadside arrived with the sound of ripping canvas. The Houston staggered as Jacob heard a series of explosions amidships and forward.

  “Damage report!” he barked, turning to the talkers as the TBS continued to yammer away.

  “Zig zag pattern two!” Teague responded, not having understood what Jacob was asking in the cacophony of sound.

  Yes, it might be time to start dodging, Jacob thought. Amazingly, he did not feel any conscious fear. He was too focused on trying to keep track of the battle to realize that the Houston was outnumbered two heavy cruisers to one and was currently fighting all by herself at point blank range.

  The firing gong sounded again, and Jacob closed his eyes while bracing himself.

  Myoko had just fired her second salvo, observing at least four hits, when the Exeter made her presence known. Having turned to starboard to unmask his main battery, Captain Gordon had found himself in the pleasant position of “crossing the T” in front of the Japanese cruisers. With her own radar finally unmasked from behind Houston and the Japanese force conveniently illuminating themselves with searchlights, the Exeter had waited an extra minute to be sure of her firing solution. The patience paid off, as her half-dozen 8-inch guns caught the Myoko completely by surprise.

  Whereas all of the Allied cruisers had been designed in strict, if not overly slavish, compliance with the 10,000-ton limit of the Washington Treaty, the Myoko’s designers had not been able to cram all that they desired into the cruisers hull and give her adequate protection. When confronted with the hard physics equation of only so much equipment being able to fit into a given mass, the designers had simply ignored the limit when designing the vessel. The resultant design choices simultaneously saved and cursed the heavy cruiser as Exeter’s salvo thundered home with four hits.

  Two of the shells were rejected by the Myoko’s armor due to the sharp angle they impacted at. However, there were plenty of vulnerable things not protected by the vessel’s belt, and the third shell found a starboard AA mount. In a stunning pyrotechnic display, the mount was completely demolished, its ready ammunition exploding in a manner that caused great consternation on her bridge. The final shell, continuing a theme for the night, detonated just below the port forward torpedo mount. Fortuitously for the cruiser, the shell’s detonation did not detonate the Type 93s warheads. Less fortunate for everyone in the surrounding area, the flame jets from the weapons’ oxygen fuel immolated almost the entire crew. The few survivors, horrifically burned, managed to trip the electrical trigger for the mounts to try and save their ship. The three Long Lances ejected from the tubes snaked out from the Myoko’s port side and fell towards the bottom of the South China Sea. The oxygen fed flames briefly lit the waters near the cruiser’s hull with their eerie glow before falling out of sight.

  As the flames from two seemingly major fires lit his bridge, Myoko’s captain barked orders for the heavy cruiser to turn hard to port and engage the Exeter even as his guns fired again at the Houston.

  Jacob had just gotten his bearings back when Nachi’s salvo had arrived close aboard. Whining splinters slashed over the Houston’s open decks, and another shudder told him that the heavy cruiser had been hit somewhere underneath her waterline. Just as Teague was complying with his first request for a damage report, Myoko’s salvo began heading over the water seemingly right at him.

  “Shit!” Jacob muttered as time seemed to dilate, fear loosening his bowels as the shells seemed to head right for him. In that instant, he felt suddenly aware of everything that was happening inside of Battle-2.

  The sound of the talkers updating information from the bridge…

  The petty officer in charge of the plotting table cursing at a man for making an error…

  The bright light as a Japanese searchlight swept over the position…

  The yelling and shouting from the 5-inch gun crew nearest to where he was standing.

  Time resumed its normal speed as the tight Japanese salvo filled the area around the Houston’s stern suddenly became alive with more whizzing steel, screams, and the crump of explosions. The eight shells that hit the American cruiser all hit aft of the vessel’s No. 1 funnel in a fury that harkened back to a Napoleonic broadside. Jacob would never know how near he came to death himself, as a secondary explosion threw him to the deck just as a splinter passed into Battle Two. One of the compartment’s runners was not as lucky, the sailor falling to his knees with his left arm raggedly cut off just above his elbow. Jacob looked at the man in horror as the young sailor stupidly waggled the limb, then began screaming in agony.

  “Litter party!” Chief Roberts bellowed, cuffing one of the sailors standing mutely in shock. “Get this man below!”.

  “Sir!” Teague screamed, jerking Jacob out of his reverie. “I have Damage Control!”

  Jacob took the preoffered sound telephone even as the Houston’s own guns roared out a retort at the Nachi. Looking to port, he saw the Australia heading almost one hundred eighty degrees the other direction, her guns seemingly pointed right Jacob’s head as the big cruiser prepared to reenter the battle.

  “This is the XO! Report!”

  As Jacob listened to the voice of Lieutenant Commander Caspin Nye, he felt himself cursing the Houston’s designers. As with her sisters, the Houston’s designers had underestimated the amount of ship they could have squeezed from 10,000 tons. With a philosophy the exact opposite of their Japanese counterparts, the U.S.N.’s designers had been almost fanatical in their adherence to the letter of the Washington Treaty. The Houston’s No. 3 turret was now jammed in train, the aft magazine was being flooded due to a shell hit that had started a massive deflagration, and nearly destroyed the cruiser.

  That explains the flame that went by, Jacob thought grimly. He was immediately thankful for the stiff breeze that blew past Battle Two, as he was sure the smell of burnt flesh would otherwise have filled the compartment.

  As the forward armament roared again, Jacob snapped himself back to paying attention to Nye’s report. The engineering spaces were starting to slowly flood, indicating damage to the vessel’s bottom. While the pumps could slow the process, Nye believed it was well past time for the Houston to disengage or he could not guarantee power for much longer.

  Jacob started to inhale in order to shout across Battle Two, then immediately felt a sharp jab of pain in his chest that caused him to double over. Attempting to take a deep breath, he felt the same agony again and realized what it was from past experience.

  Cracked some freakin’ ribs, he thought to himself. Haven’t done that since that bar fight in England as a lieutenant.

  “Sir, are you all right?!” Chief Roberts exclaimed, clearly concerned. Jacob nodded, waving him away. He felt the Houston start to turn to port.

  “Sir, we’re leaving the fight!” Teague said.

  Looking around the compartment, Jacob realized they were no longer illuminated, and no more fire was inbound. There was the sound of gunfire astern, and he realized that the Australia was engaging a target.

  The reason for Houston’s succor was the Nachi and Myoko having much more pressing problems. Like a back alley tough jumping a larger opponent, the Commonwealth cruiser had been shooting as rapidly as possible even as Myoko’s guns began swinging towards her. For her part, Nachi had fired one more salvo at Houston before also turning to look for the Common
wealth cruiser as well. Unlike the Boise, however, the Exeter was equipped with flashless powder and managed to rattle off eight full broadsides and fired her torpedoes before either IJN cruiser had a chance to bring their searchlights to bear.

  The damage to Myoko was horrible. As her gunnery officer finally found his target, the Exeter’s fire had holed the heavy cruiser’s bow and forward spaces, started several fires, and necessitated the flooding of No. 1 and 2 magazines. Grievously injured, the Myoko nevertheless brought her searchlights to bear to aid the Nachi’s targeting. The bright lights pinned Exeter, the heavy cruiser’s dual stacks and staggered deck making her identification almost immediate.

  It was at this moment that the Ford, Pope, and Electra forcibly reminded the Japanese force of their presence. The Natsushio, having continued to fire at the Boise as her torpedo crews reloaded, suddenly staggered, a huge wave of water going up as one of Electra’s torpedoes found her amidships. With her power immediately knocked out, the destroyer slowed and became a navigational hazard for the Nachi just as her gunnery officer was taking aim at Exeter. As lookouts screamed about additional torpedoes inbound, Captain Kiyota barked orders for the heavy cruiser to turn hard to port. To the gunnery officer’s disgust, his ten shells all missed the Exeter due to the emergency turn, the smaller Commonwealth cruiser lost in the neatly spaced waterspouts.

  Even as Electra tin fish were paid to the Natsushio, the Ford and Pope were closing on the two Japanese heavy cruisers from almost directly bow on. Both four-pipers dated from World War One, and as such lacked a central director that allowed all guns to be simultaneously targeted or fired. Offsetting their age was the fact that the vessels’ individual captains had relentlessly drilled their crews over the last six months. Now as both destroyers charged the Nachi and Myoko, their training paid off. Hardly able to hurt the cruisers with their guns, the “four pipers” managed to land several punishing hits as they closed to five thousand yards. Turning simultaneously to starboard as Nachi and Myoko began their turn away from Exeter, both destroyers launched torpedoes from the heavy cruisers’ starboard quarter then started to turn away into their own smoke. Nachi’s starboard secondaries managed to enact some measure of revenge for the shellfire striking her, landing two 5-inch shells on the Ford before that vessel disappeared from view. The two shells exploded amidships on the destroyer’s port side, detonating just above the waterline. Hard hit, the Ford began slinking away into the darkness with the Pope circling worriedly back to render aid.

  The Nachi’s gunnery officer never had a chance to celebrate his success as the Australia found the range. Shooting high, the Commonwealth put four 8-inch shells into the Nachi’s superstructure and turrets. While Nachi’s designers had blatantly violated the tonnage limit their nation had agreed to in the Washington Treaty, they had not placed massive protection everywhere. In an effort to keep the cruiser from being top heavy with all of her protection and heavy broadside, the designers had decided to provide the turrets with only enough armor to keep out splinters. As a result, the shell that hit dead center between B turret’s twin guns shell cut through like an ice pick through a soda can. Arriving just as several powder charges were brought up from the Nachi’s magazine, the shell’s detonation caused a secondary explosion that blew the structure’s roof off and back into the cruiser’s bridge.

  Pandemonium was a gentle word for the carnage that ensued as several tons of steel slashed into the massive pagoda structure. Like a fistful of razor blades flung into a darkened bijou, the roof’s remnants ricocheted around the enclosed compartment. Captain Kiyota, having governed the fight as aggressively and professional as possible after Rear Admiral Tanaka’s incapacitation, was rewarded by having his entire left side slashed open as a huge piece of steel slammed him to the compartment’s rear. The officer of the deck and the cruiser’s talkers were all similarly dispatched by either the initial entry of steel or the horrible ricochet as the fragments bounced off the surrounding bulkheads.

  The Nachi’s junior officer of the deck (JOOD), having stepped briefly out onto the starboard bridge wing, took in the macabre scene inside the structure. Before he could step inside, he heard screams from above him and a recurring grinding sound. Realizing that the director had taken a direct hit, the young lieutenant stepped back into the bridge and promptly slipped on a puddle of blood and fell to his knees on one of the many casualties. As the man groaned underneath him, the JOOD fought back to his feet at grabbed the sound powered telephone at the back of the bridge. Screaming into it, the officer informed the Nachi’s executive officer that he was now in charge, as the bridge was a charnel house.

  Maimed, the Myoko had started to slow as she turned back into her smoke screen. With the Exeter’s accurate fire still landing around her, the Myoko’s captain ordered a zig back to the north. It was at this point that the Nachi, fires burning throughout her pagoda structure and her stern turrets firing almost full astern, came charging through the smoke her sister had laid. Screaming in rage, Myoko’s captain ordered her helm put back to starboard. The the heavy cruiser’s bow stopped its motion to port, then slowly came around to the inside of the Nachi’s path.

  The two cruisers passed close enough that the Myoko’s crew on deck could see Nachi’s men carrying the dead and wounded from her bridge in the sudden light of an Electra star shell pattern. The Nachi’s men, for their part, could see Myoko’s ruined forward half, damage control crews playing hoses on the numerous fires still burning in front of her bridge. Just as the two ships finished passing port to starboard, the American destroyers’ torpedoes finished their painfully slow journey.

  In the end, five torpedoes, two from Ford and three from Whipple, struck the Myoko. In contrast to the allegedly superior Mk 14 and 15s which had replaced it, the elderly Mk 8s had a lower dud rate. Only one of the weapons failed to detonate, the other four stabbing the heavy cruiser’s bow, abreast the already flooded magazines, amidships, then just forward of where her props joined the hull. Her rudder carried away, her aft engine room opened to the sea, bunkerage suddenly set alight, and the damaged bow suddenly acting as a brake to her progress, the Myoko undulated like a stabbed, living beast then stopped.

  The Nachi, her steering capability belatedly restored, continued to hurtle west into the darkness. As her weary crew looked after, they watched as their sister was hit again, first by Exeter then by Australia. Belatedly, her executive officer radioed the directive to retreat to the Japanese destroyers still dueling their opposite numbers to the southwest In contrast to Nachi’s pell mell retreat, that of the Karushio and her new companions was well executed. Having sunk the Whipple, crippled the Peary, and forced the Jupiter and Encounter to retire at the cost of only moderate damage to the Asagiri, the pack of four Japanese DDs had been busy stalking the Australia when the Nachi ordered retreat.

  Aboard the Karushio, the news was met with a great deal of anger. Having watched his comrades die, the Karushio’s master had been looking forward to possibly gaining some measure of revenge with the other three destroyers close behind. As he received news that torpedo reloads were complete, the Japanese commander bit out orders for the torpedoes to be fired against the burning, stationary Boise once the Karushio had come back about to the west and the following Asagumo, Asagiri, and Hayashio to be informed of this target. Two minutes later, all four DDs unleashed their ship killers, then made best speed back towards the still burning Jintsu.

  For the second time that night, the Boise became the focus of a swarm of Japanese torpedoes. Unlike the first time, there was no mistaking her for a capital ship or misjudging her speed. Just under eight minutes after their launch, as the Pope and Ford were approaching the crippled cruiser from her starboard quarter, four of the massive Type 93s struck the light cruiser from bow to stern.

  The crew of the Ford had just enough time to register the hits before one of the torpedoes that had missed Boise astern slammed into the four piper just underneath her bridge. Throwing the entire crew off their
feet, the Type 93’s warhead snapped the tin can’s keel like a grown man breaking a celery stalk. The pressure of the DD’s speed caused the bow to snap off just behind the bridge, the structure gouging another hole in the DD’s side as it bounced to port. Shuddering to a stop, the Ford immediately began to settle.

  The destroyer’s destruction, as horrific as it was to those viewing from her sister ship, was merely a preamble to the Boise’s demise. Already heavily flooded, the cruiser’s keel and several amidships bulkhead suddenly gave under the inrush of additional water. With a sound that would haunt all who heard it until the day they died, the Boise’s hull jackknifed. For ninety horrific seconds, her bow and stern were both horrifically outlined by a spreading pool of burning fuel oil floating atop the South China Sea.

  Broadcasting a frantic warning about submarines, the Pope’s commander put his helm hard to starboard and reversed course away from the sinking Ford and Boise. Hearing the call, Rear Admiral Glassford immediately ordered the Exeter and Australia to cease their pursuit of the Nachi and retire south to regroup. Despite bitter commentary the bridge of both vessels, the two Commonwealth cruisers complied after firing one last desultory salvo after their fleeing opponent. As they passed the crippled, sinking Myoko, each heavy cruiser fired three more salvoes into the battered IJN vessel. The Australia, at barely five thousand yards distance, fired four torpedoes and was rewarded with two more hits to the listing Myoko’s port side. Absorbing far too much damage for even her overweight hull, the IJN cruiser visibly lurched then quickly slipped under the waves bow first.