by M L Maki
“Yes, Sergeant.”
He runs and leaps into the tank and gets in the driver’s seat. He goes through the start sequence, hearing the sergeant yelling at the others. “What the bloody hell?” He starts rolling and hears the grease gun clank as it falls from the top of the track. He stops and starts to climb out when the sergeant sees him. “Go Preacher!”
“But, Sergeant, there’s a grease gun under my track.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Preacher. Go!”
He gets his tank rolling, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This ain’t no drill.”
2ND BATT, 1ST REGIMENT, 2ND US AD, SOUTHERN ENGLAND
0805, 23 September, 1942
CPL Lance Nicholson is ramming a cleaning brush into the bore of 75mm gun on his Sherman M-4, when his tank commander, Sergeant Steve Gains runs up. “Pull it out! We got to go!”
Nicholson pulls the brush out and starts breaking it down, “You late for a date?”
“We’ve been ordered to deploy.” The sergeant straps his bag onto the turret bustle as the rest of the crew arrive.
“I need my stuff.”
Private Mead runs up carrying two bags. “I got it. I even remembered your porn.”
Nicholson starts stowing tools and spare parts on the tank. His TC yells, “We got to go. Leave that shit.”
“Ten miles down the road when we conk out, you’re gonna want it.”
“You’re right. Guys, help him.”
CHAPTER 3
WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, DC
0312, 23 September, 1942 (0812 GMT)
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt sits at the head of a conference table with his military commanders. “What can be done?”
Admiral Ernest King, CNO, says, “She has first priority for new aircraft. We are training new pilots as fast as we can.”
“Marshall?”
General George C. Marshall, US Army Chief of Staff, says, “We have sent deployment orders to all units based in the United Kingdom. We have four of the new amphibious ships pulling into Belfast to load the 1st Armored. We sent them to exercise with the unit. They can move the division to England one brigade at a time.”
Roosevelt turns to Admiral Craig Klindt, Vice CNO for Special Projects, “Tell me about the new ships.”
“Sir, they have a well deck to accommodate the new Landing Craft Air Cushion.”
“What are these air things? Planes?”
“Sir, they are neither fish nor fowl. They use an air cushion to lift the weight off the water. They cannot fly like an aircraft, but they can stay out of the water and travel right up on the beach and drop off troops and their equipment dry. They do not set off magnetic, contact, or pressure mines. Also, if the sea state isn’t terrible, they travel at about fifty miles an hour, giving the enemy less time to engage.”
“Who came up with this thing?”
“As I recall, a Brit named Cockerell in the ‘50’s.”
“I mean now.”
“A naval officer named Hughes, sir.”
“I hope he’s giving us a good deal.”
“A shipbuilder he partnered with is handling the business end. It’s a fair deal, sir. We ordered a thousand.”
“How many ships?”
“Two hundred, sir.”
“How many do we have right now?”
“The four in Bristol, eight others completed and undergoing training out of Norfolk, and eleven on the west coast.”
Admiral King says, “Sir, if we move them all to the east coast, we can land a division behind the German lines.”
Roosevelt, “I don’t want the Germans to have lines to get behind. How long would it take?”
King replies, “If we issue the order now, about a month. Six weeks if we practice.”
“I see. Issue the order. How do we keep Britain in the fight for six weeks?”
Admiral Leahy says, “Send everything we can. Keep Hunt’s unit in the air and fighting.”
CIC, USS COLUMBIA CLG-56, NORTH OF BOUGAINVILLE, SOLOMON ISLANDS
2110, 23 September, 1942 (0910 GMT)
LCDR Shawn Hughes stands in the CIC, his hands behind his back. The Carl Vinson is 100 miles to the south east and the Columbia is the northernmost radar picket. He has a two-dimensional Mark 49 air search radar on the main mast and two targeting radars on the stern superstructure. All the boilers are on line in case they need a surge of speed. He stands like a statue listening to reports.
A first class enters, “Request permission to enter and speak with the TAO.”
“Enter.”
BT1 Jim Williamson quietly says, “Sir, boiler two ABC’s are still hunting, but it is better.”
“Good. Give the Hagan reaction valve a slight turn in the shut direction. Turn it slowly and only an eighth of an inch or less.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Mark 49 operator shouts, “Raid warning north! Thirty plus at 200 miles and 500 knots!”
Hughes says, “General Quarters. Calm, please.” To Williamson, “Hold off on changes until after the fight. Thank you.”
They hear the familiar sound of General Quarters. Shawn picks up the phone and calls the captain, “Raid, sir. Thirty plus at 200 miles.”
“Proceed.”
Hughes says, “Come right to new course 075.”
The Mark 49 operator, “They are continuing course and speed.”
Hughes picks up a phone, “Radio, send a message to Group and confirm this is not friendly.”
Phone talker, “Missile house manned and ready.”
Another phone talker, “Condition Zebra set.”
Hughes, “Very well. Load and prep missiles for a sustained barrage.”
“Captain in combat.”
Captain William A. Heard walks in, “Carry on.” He stands beside Hughes.
“Sir, we are turning to 075 to unmask our battery.”
“Good.”
A phone talker, “Confirmed. Raid is hostile.”
Hughes, “Very well. At 100 miles commence firing the Mark 10.”
A minute later they can hear and feel two missiles leaving the rails. In moments, they see the outbound missiles on radar. On radio, “Columbia, Felix 277, we are inbound with four Foxtrot one fours. Six minutes out.”
Hughes, “Roger, Felix. Make certain your IFF is on.”
“Will do.”
One of the missiles finds its target. The other misses and burns itself out, dropping into the sea.
LCDR Curt George, “Directors, don’t chase the targets.”
WASHI (EAGLE) JAPANESE BOMBER, 85 MILES NORTH OF COLUMBIA
Captain Hata watches the plane ahead of him burst into flame. A missile misses him by a hundred feet. On radio, “Missiles from below.”
Colonel Okumara in the lead bomber, “Stay in formation.”
CIC, USS COLUMBIA CLG-56, NORTH OF BOUGAINVILLE, SOLOMON ISLANDS
The second round of missiles hit two of the enemy aircraft. Six planes detach from the formation and dive on the Columbia. Hughes says, “Missile officer, keep the third volley on those staying on course. After that they will be out of range.”
LCDR George says, “Yes, sir.”
Captain heard nods, “Good call, Commander.” The missiles fire and both hit.’
Radar operator, “Inbound planes are accelerating!” Despite the bombers accelerating to supersonic, the next round of missiles hit two bombers.
WASHI (EAGLE) JAPANESE BOMBER 50 MILES NORTH OF COLUMBIA
Captain Hata can’t see the Columbia in the dark. He sees two of his formation blown up, but continues, keeping the bump on his radar oscilloscope centered and his engines firewalled. He flies a bomber too large for a carrier deck. It’s a two-seater with a 55-degree swept leading edge and a 10-degree swept trailing edge on a delta wing. The vertical stabilizer is alone aft of the wing without elevators. It likes to fly fast and climb like a bird, but it does not like to land. Focusing on his radar screen, he releases both 1000-pound glide bombs at 15 miles. The radar guidance system was
designed in Germany.
USS COLUMBIA
Hughes says, “Focus on incoming. Let the jets go.” Two more missiles fire and hit the falling bombs. Six more bombs come at them. “Sparrows, engage when in range. CIWS on auto.” The Sea Sparrow missiles in the box launcher behind Mount 2 start firing. They hit two and the CIWS hits one. The remaining bombs fall short, but the concussion shakes the entire ship.
The captain grabs the 1MC, “Investigators out.”
LANCELOT 2, 25,000 FEET, NORTH BOUND OVER THE BIGHT, UK
0925, 23 September, 1942
LT Lorne ‘Jedi’ Luke asks his RIO, LTJG Tyler ‘Stinky’ Lewis, “What do you see?”
“It’s a mess. There are aircraft attacking the fleet. I think there are some British birds defending. None of them have IFF.”
“Okay, then, no AIM-1’s. This is our first time flying without a lead, so let’s not fuck this up.”
“No prob’s brother Jedi. Just keep your laser sword close at hand.”
“If they get that close, I’ll just use the mind trick.”
Stinky laughs, “These are the missiles you are looking for.”
“May the Schwartz be with you.”
They hear, “Lancelot 2, Ghost Rider, Gawain 1 is ahead of you.”
Stinky, “Ghost Rider, Lance 2, I have Gawain 1’s IFF. Gawain 1, Lance 2, coming in from the south.”
Speedy, “This raid is bugging out. Orbit 40 miles south west of point Bravo and wait for the next one.”
“What have they been sending?”
“’262’s. Thud calls them delta wing coffins. They have radar now and are carrying medium range missiles, so keep your eyes out.”
“Will do.” To Jedi, “I’m searching for the next raid. They have to be out there ‘cause I have a hard on.”
“I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, but shit man, she’s awesome, but killing German’s, that’s a high. Thud will be passing to our left.”
“Roger,” as Thud’s jet flashes by. “Do you want me to land so you can take care of your little problem?”
“Nah. I’m taking care of it fine.”
Jedi rotates the jet inverted, “There, just what you need.”
“Not cool, man.”
RIDGE EAST OF HENDERSON FIELD, GUADALCANAL
2136, 23 September, 1942
SGT John Leigh Hunt lays under a wild pile of bushes carefully studying the valley below him. He can see the trail the Japanese use to move supplies forward. He and his squad silently wait. Bugs are crawling on him, and more than few are enjoying a meal at his expense. He waits, motionless.
The jungle is never silent. There are always small animals moving through the brush and birds calling. But he and his men are still, silent. Then, he hears a clink of metal on metal from down the hill. He hears it again. He touches the man on his left in warning. They see movement below. A line of Japanese is slowly working their way along the dim track.
The lead Japanese stops, looking and listening, but Hunt is watching them out of the corner of his eye, not straight on. After a long moment, the column moves forward. After the squad of Japanese soldiers are men carrying boxes tied to their backs. It is at least a company. Just as the lead element starts to disappear, he opens fire on them with his Garand. Six quick shots and the lead element falls. His men take out the rear security element, then shoot the box carrying soldiers in the center. Many run up the hill away from the Marines. Hunt yells, “Claymore.”
Twenty mines detonate on the facing hill. In a few seconds it is done. Over a hundred Japanese lay dead in the valley. Two of his men turn and vomit. Hunt feels moisture forming in his eyes, but takes a deep breath, controlling himself. Corporal Steven Lewis says, “Jesus Christ, Sergeant, it was a fucking slaughter.”
The two friends look at each other for a long moment, then Hunt, “Police up. Gather all the supplies. Our guys can use them.”
RUNWAY 21, RAF ALCONBURY, UK
Spike winds up her engines feeling her aircraft shake. She’s flying Gunner’s bird for now. “Rolling,” and trips the brakes. The ’14 picks up speed and they hear, “Arthur 1, Yankee, climb to angels 44 and fly 042. Multiple bandits 200 miles at 225.”
LT Shawn ‘Lizard’ Todd, Spike’s RIO, says, “44 at 042, Arthur, aye.”
As they disappear into the clouds, Spike asks, “Where is Galahad?”
Lizard relays the question, “Arthur 1, Galahad is engaging 8 bandits approaching London. Texas and Kansas are scrambling. You will arrive first.”
Lizard, “Yankee, Arthur 1, roger.”
Spike, to herself, “He isn’t where he was told to be.” She comes to course 042. “Lizard, I know it will take a bit to get the hang of me. Don’t tell me what to do, tell me where they are. Let me fight the bird. If you need to call a break, that’s fine.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lizard, if you ‘yes, ma’am’ me one more time, I’m going to clock you. Spike, got it?”
“Yes, m….Spike.”
“I’ll call ‘grunt’ when I’m going to lay on the G’s, okay?”
“Right, m…Spike.”
She smiles, “Did you have this issue with Papa?” The memories flood in and her smile is gone.
“I called him boss, um, Spike.”
“If you want, that would be fine, just not ma’am.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Sure, ma’ams are 83 years old with too many cats.”
“Got it. Bandits on radar, Boss. We have about 30 bandits inbound at angels 30 and 145 miles at 240.”
“Okay, when we’re in range, shoot all four.”
“Roger, Boss. They’re reacting to the radar. Eight turning our way.”
“They’re protecting the ones behind. Hit the planes that are continuing on. We’ll blast through and focus on them.”
“Yes, ma’…Boss. The ones…the bombers are accelerating to high mach. Come to 35.” She adjusts her course, staying at full military power.
Lizard, “Quad Fox 3.”
Spike pickles off the four AIM-1 Extended range missiles and follows them in. She hears the warning tone that they’re being targeted by the closing fighters. “I’ll try to keep us nose on, but I’m going to have to maneuver.”
“No prob’s, Boss. Double Fox 1.”
Spike pickles off two AIM-7 medium range missiles and goes to zone 5 afterburner. They’re each targeted to a different German fighter. The missiles race ahead, adjusting course as the enemy fighters close.
LT COLONEL KURT WELTER, YELLOW ONE, GERMAN FU-279, CLOSING SPIKE
Welter transitioned from the MiG-29 just days ago into the new FU-279. I knows it’s based on the F-5 Tigers found at Brandenmeyer and it’s all good. He loves his new aircraft. He’s smiling when he hears the radar lock tone and pickles off two radar guided missiles. “Yes,” he chuckles, “The Americans no longer dominate the skies.”
His missiles cross the American missiles and he yanks the stick back, maneuvering to get clear, pickling off chaff and flares. The missile misses, passing below him. On radio he hears, “Four is hit.”
ARTHUR 1
Spike says, “Grunt,” and pickles off chaff and flares as she dives beneath the incoming missiles in a corkscrew that avoids breaking her radar lock on the German bombers. She sees the missiles and a tumbling fireball from the German fighter she hit.
As they close with the Germans in the merge, Lizard asks, “What the hell are those? They’ve got two close set in engines and look like oversized F-5’s. They’ve got F-15 intakes.”
“Watch them.” She rolls left and continues to close the ME-262’s and sees three of her long-range missiles hit home.
Lizard cranes his neck, “They’re rolling right and coming around.”
YELLOW 1
“He’s focusing on the bombers. We’ve got him. Close from multiple directions at the same time. One of us will get the shot.”
ARTHUR 1
“Tally ho.” She finally has visua
l on the enemy bombers. As she closes, they scatter out of formation like doves attacked by a hawk. As she closes, she hears a Sidewinder growling in her ear and takes the shot. The Sidewinder zigzags to the nearest ‘262, hitting it in the right engine. The engine explodes and there is a puff of black smoke from the left engine. The German plane inverts, showing green bombs on the wing pylons. Then, it rolls upright, trailing fire. She sees puffs as the pilot pulls the extinguishers on both engines. The engines continue burning and the pilot ejects from his doomed bird.
Spike adjusts course looking for another target as the pilot’s chute opens for the long drop to the North Sea. It’s her sixth kill for the day.
They hear on radio, “Arthur, Texas in. Please zoom.”
“Grunt.” She pulls back on the stick, sending her jet rocketing vertical. With only one missile left on the rails, she’s light enough to really climb. Some of the ‘262’s attempt to mimic her maneuver, but they are too heavily laden with bombs, and the British missiles bore in, devastating the German aircraft.
Lizard, “Missile launch, seven high!”
“Grunt,” and she pulls over the top inverted and applies rudder, hitting the chaff and flares. “Grunt.” When she sees the missile, she rolls upright and goes vertical again, dropping more chaff and flares. The missile fails to track and passes beneath them and she meets the German head to head.
YELLOW 1
When he passes in the merge, only feet from Spike’s plane, he sees all the flags on Gunner’s bird. He calls on the radio, “It’s an ace many times over. Be cautious. A bottle of Schnapps to anyone who downs the plane.”
He hears subdued cheers and “Jawohl!”
ARTHUR 1
Lizard, “He’s an ace. Saw his flags.”
“Focus.” She pulls into a hard climb, bleeding speed for altitude. The German passes just above them in the scissors. She rolls, continuing up, but this time, the German bugs out to the south east. “We let him go. Where are the bombers.”
“Closing the coast at 270. He’s circling back and we’ve another at 8 o’clock.”
“Okay, grunt.” She rolls inverted and dives. A ‘279 is on the six of a British Griffin. The Griffin jinxes left. The ‘279 follows, flying right into her cross hairs. A burst of 20mm and the ‘279 loses his vertical stabilizer and the left rear aileron. He noses down and rolls, parts falling off as he falls to the sea. The pilot ejects.