It had been a long, silent journey from the Kuriles, with the sudden rising winds and sea of a winter storm to brave as they went. Yet the Admiral was not bothered by the weather. His real concern was in being spotted and in wondering whether this whole affair would ever come to fruition at all.
He was a navy veteran, having graduated from the academy in that fateful year of 1908, too young then to see action when Admiral Togo faced down that strange Russian ship off Oki Island. Ever thereafter, it was said that that enemy ship had been emboldened by the soul of the legendary sea Dragon, Mizuchi, and the shock of that encounter had done much to spur the development of the Japanese naval building program. They were determined to get sea dragons of their own.
Now Nagumo had them, right there in the Kido Butai, six of the eight fleet carriers with over 440 planes at his command. The words of the Commander in Chief, Admiral Yamamoto, were still fresh in his mind that night. The two men had met just before the fleet departed home waters.
“We have received certain intelligence from the breakaway Russian Republic of Orenburg. Sakyamuno labored all night to get this information to Urajio by rail.”
“What is it?” Nagumo eyed the diplomatic pouch carefully.
“A very strange document,” said Yamamoto. “It contains a map of the American anchorages at Pearl Harbor, the exact positions of their ships, or so we are to believe. There is one thing notably absent on the map—there are no American carriers.”
“How could this information be accurate? It will be two weeks before we are in range to attack. Anything could happen in that time.”
“That is what is so strange about this map,” said Yamamoto. “It appears as if… well as if this has already happened! It even indicates our planned flight approach for the first attack wave! How could the Russians have this? I am in doubt about the entire mission now.”
“You suspect a security breach?”
“This man—Volkov—he clearly seemed to know all the details of our attack,” Yamamoto shook his head. “Sakyamuno told me that it was imperative we focus our effort not only on the battleships and cruisers we may still find there, but also on the submarine pens… here.” Yamamoto pointed to the map. “Also note these fuel tanks that were discussed as potential targets.”
“It was determined we could damage them, but not destroy the oil,” said Nagumo. “Remember, they are surrounded by dikes.”
Yamamoto nodded. “Yet this man, Volkov, insisted that they must be attacked, along with the dry docks and ship repair facilities.”
“The Prophet,” said Nagumo with a dismissive look. “I have heard of his many predictions. He flits about in that antiquated airship, whispering in Hitler’s ear one day, and in Tojo’s the next.”
“Yes,” said Yamamoto. “He predicted there would be a fire in Moscow, and the Soviet Government would flee to Leningrad. He predicted what happened to Sergei Kirov as well!”
“Guesswork,” said Nagumo. “I could have predicted that myself.”
“Nonetheless, I am inclined to consider the possibility of a third wave strike to target these things. Can it be done?”
“Genda argued strongly for this,” said Nagumo. “In fact, he still thinks we should invade Hawaii!”
“That will not happen this time out.” Yamamoto smiled. “Give thought to this. If such a third wave could be mounted, then perhaps Genda’s voice should be heard. I will leave this up to you. But there is more here.”
“More?” Nagumo eyed the leather pouch again, and Yamamoto handed him a second page.
“This is where the carriers will be.”
“Another prediction? This Russian dictator cannot possibly know this. Predicting where these ships will be before they even leave port is ridiculous.”
“Our men on the Hawaiian Islands confirm that the carriers have been moving in and out of the harbor. One departed today. This paper says there are only two operating out of Pearl Harbor, not four as we first thought. A third is on the American West Coast, the fourth was called to the Atlantic. It indicates that the Americans will try to reinforce their mid Pacific islands, one carrier to Midway, another to Wake Island, most likely ferrying aircraft or delivering troops and supplies.”
“Most regrettable,” said Nagumo. “If they accommodate this man and do as he predicts, then I will not get a chance to destroy them at Pearl Harbor.”
“Let us not put too much faith in this report,” said Yamamoto, “but if it is true, those carriers will not be able to interfere. Just the same, do keep a wary eye over your right shoulder as you turn south for the final approach. If all goes well, you should receive the final go order sometime after your refueling operation on December 2nd.”
“Climb Mount Niitaka,” said Nagumo. “Someday I will go there to see the real mountain. I have heard it is a difficult height to master.”
“The one you already have in front of you will be trouble enough,” said Yamamoto. “Do not forget the words of Admiral Togo at Tsushima!”
“How could I forget them?” said Nagumo. “That is where your hand was injured.”
“Aboard the armored cruiser Nisshin,” said Yamamoto. “We fired almost every round we had during that fight, and the ship took much more damage than this old left hand of mind. Yes, I lost two fingers, but the Russians lost the war—twice…”
“It was the second victory that mattered most for us,” said Nagumo. “That’s when we finally put them in their place.” He smiled.
“Just the same,” said Yamamoto. “Now we are about to strike the most dangerous foe we have ever fought. Remember Togo’s words, and remember the Nisshin. I know you had your reservations about this plan, but if you are asked to climb this mountain, when you get there, fire every round you have.”
Nagumo put that remark beside their discussion about a third strike wave, and though Yamamoto had politely left the decision to him, he nonetheless felt that the Commander In Chief was urging him to strongly consider Genda’s exhortation for that third strike.
Chapter 36
The flags rose on the main mast of Akagi precisely on schedule, at 5:45 AM in the pre-dawn hour of December 7th, 1941. Time and Fate were stubborn, and determined to restore their dignity, no matter how badly ruffled their skirts were by the violations of Kirov and crew. They had conspired that day to bring the Kido Butai to precisely the right place, at precisely the right moment, to launch the most infamously famous attack of the war.
Strangely, it would not be the Japanese that would actually initiate hostilities. It would be the US destroyer Ward, which fired on a Japanese midget submarine that was creeping up behind a tug towing targets for live fire exercises near the entrance to the harbor. That was the first hit scored in what would soon become a long desperate struggle over 63.8 million square miles on the largest body of water known in the universe. And in Fedorov’s history, the last hit would come many years later, again delivered by the Americans. It would be scored by Bafford E. “Loopy Lew” Lewellen, commanding the US Submarine Torsk as it stalked a Japanese cargo ship escorted by a frigate on August 14, 1945. Torsk would sink the escort with a new fangled sonar guided torpedo aimed by a gizmo the crew called a torpedo data computer, the legacy of the terror brought back to this tumultuous past by a ship called Kirov.
1945 was very far away when Admiral Nagumo stared down the staircase of Akagi’s three flight decks, descending one after another to the bow of the ship as it turned into the wind. He knew what the flags on that mast were now saying to every member of the Kido Butai that could see them. They were the same flags Admiral Togo had raised at the Battle of Tsushima, the same words Admiral Yamamoto had pressed him to never forget. “The fate of our nation depends on this battle—All hands will exert themselves to their utmost.”
Nagumo had a lot on his mind, the weight of that statement hanging right over his head on that mainmast. He had been entrusted with command of this operation, and the cream of Japan’s fleet carrier divisions, in what he always thought was a
risky, and highly dangerous operation. There were too many things that could go wrong. The long sea journey east, the risk of early detection, the prospect that they would arrive and find an enemy fully alerted and ready for battle. And there was one other question he wished he could answer now—where were the American carriers?
In spite of Japan’s clear superiority in that category, any carrier on the sea was deemed to be a threat by Japanese navy planners, and always a target of the highest priority. There were only three in the Pacific, with two more scheduled to transfer there soon, hoping to arrive before war came, but they would not get there in time. In spite of warnings that had come from many quarters, the British, US intelligence, blunt threats broadcast by Tojo himself, and that final secret message delivered by Vladimir Karpov, the US was woefully unprepared for the outbreak of the war.
The war fighting elements of the US Fleet were organized into three large Task Forces. TF 1, commanded by Vice Admiral Pye, was the heavyweight, with 6 battleships, 6 cruisers, 18 destroyers, 12 submarines, and 5 minelayers. It was also supposed to have a carrier, CV Saratoga, but this ship was fresh from overhaul in Seattle and off to San Diego to pick up her planes.
An old battleship man who had served on five such ships in his early career, Pye had boasted that there was little danger to the fleet at its new forward base in Pearl Harbor. “The Japanese will not go to war with the United States,” he said as late as the 6th of December in staff meetings with Fleet CinC Admiral Kimmel. “We are too big, too powerful, and too strong.” Thus, in spite of the war warnings, he had his powerful task force sleeping quietly in the harbor, with his overconfidence about to be roundly skewered in a matter of hours.
The other two task forces were at sea. TF 2, under Vice Admiral William Halsey, had three battleships, Arizona, Nevada and Oklahoma, with 18 destroyers and 3 cruisers. The battleships were to conduct night fire exercises west of Hawaii, while Halsey organized a new TF 8, and slipped away with Enterprise along with the heavy cruisers Northampton, Chester, Salt Lake City and nine of those destroyers.
Halsey took this force out on November 28th, heading for Wake Island to secretly deliver 12 Marine fighters. The planes were flying off the deck for Wake on December 2, just as Kirov reappeared in these troubled waters, and the signal to attack Pearl Harbor was delivered. He had planned to return to Pearl by December 6, but was delayed by a storm in Fedorov’s history—weather that was not going to occur in these altered states. The swirling, ever random moods of sea and sky would simply not obey the dictates of Fate and Time, and this would soon have a dramatic impact on the Japanese plans.
Vice Admiral Brown’s TF 3 was designated the scouting force of the navy, led by CV Lexington under Admiral Newton, along with eight cruisers, 9 destroyers, 17 submarines and 12 minelayers. Like Halsey’s special mission, Newton organized a smaller TF 12 and took “Lady Lex” and heavy cruisers Chicago, Portland and Astoria, with five destroyers, out to deliver planes to Midway.
It is often said that a single day can make all the difference in the world, and Fate was also to change the tabular record of movement for this group, when Newton went on his way 24 hours early, thus finding himself one day ahead of schedule on his return leg to Pearl. Instead of being 500 miles southeast of Midway, and effectively out of the game on December 7th, TF 12 was a little over 500 miles further on, steaming just 150 miles west of Kauai Island, northwest of Pearl.
The night firing exercises went off without a hitch, and Halsey had a mind to dismiss his three slow battleships and send them back to Pearl on December 5th. In Fedorov’s history, this is what he actually did, which doomed all three as proverbial sitting ducks in the harbor. But with Lexington ahead of schedule, and his own task force unhampered by foul weather as it was, the Enterprise group was very near Lexington on the way home.
Rear Admiral John H. Newton was Commander, Scouting Force, getting a rare chance in the seat of a carrier commander for this one special mission. Otherwise his senior, vice Admiral Wilson Brown, would normally be in charge. Seeing the close proximity of the Enterprise as a unique training opportunity, Newton sent a message to Halsey asking if he would care to organize an impromptu fleet exercise involving all the assets they presently had at sea. The signal was simple, but Halsey could read between the lines. He smiled, realizing Newton knew he was about to be bumped back down to the cruisers as soon as they made port. With nothing else other than a dull cruise home, Halsey agreed.
It was to be a cover and converge exercise, where the three battleships and the two carrier groups would stage as if they were a covering force for some other operation, and then converge on a rendezvous point. Thus those three battleships were not detached, and as Halsey looked at his map on December 6, he got a screwball idea.
“Hell, we always come into Pearl from the west. Why not make this rendezvous point up near Kauai? This time we’ll swing north of that island and come home from the northwest. We can have the battleships inshore, and the carriers and cruisers covering.”
What Admirals decide they often do, and this became the plan for the morning of December 7th, 1941. It would mean the two carriers would not be where Volkov’s report predicted, nor would Battleship Division 1 be waiting in the harbor with the rest of Pye’s ships. Instead, the American carriers would mount morning search patrols as part of the exercise, and aboard CV Enterprise, Scouting Squadron 6 was tapped for the job. Halsey had planned to send out such a mission anyway, having his planes search out in a 150 mile arc, and then just sending them on to land at Ford Island. There, they would have arrived just as the Japanese attack began, with six destroyed in that chaos as they tried to land. This time, Halsey decided they would fly an out and back mission, and return to the Enterprise.
Scouting Six had 9 planes, led by Lieutenant Commander Hopping. They would each take a slice of the search arc, with names that would begin rewriting the history of that eventful day, Teaff, Kroeger, Gallaher, West, Dobson, Dickensen, Hilton and Weber. It was Ensign Teaff in plane 6S-2 that would score the jackpot, for his slice of the morning sky would take him directly at the point on the sea where Nagumo’s Kita Butai was now launching the first strike wave. Commander Mitsuo Fuchida was up to lead them, and they soon darkened the skies above those carriers like fitful bats, their dark wings barely silhouetted against the gloaming dawn.
The planes howled away on their mission, cruising through the grey early morning, lulled by the quiet songs from a radio station on Honolulu. When they had gone, preparations were made for the second wave, and Lieutenant Saburo Shindo would be among the first to fly, leading nine A6-Zero fighters in three Shotai. He would take the first Shotai up immediately, with extra fuel tanks to loiter over the task force on a defensive watch until the second wave was up.
The Japanese had every hope that they would catch the Americans by surprise, as a seaplane off the heavy cruiser Chikuma had reported the fleet was there with at least six battleships, but with no carriers present. One of those six was the Utah, now designated a target ship. The other five belonged to Admiral Pye’s TF 1. The three notably absent were now rounding the northern shores of Kauai Island, about 10 miles north of Princeville. They were simulating a shore bombardment on that island, screened by the carriers and cruisers. Amazingly, they were just far enough west so that the first strike wave could not spot them.
Events were now about to careen in a wild new direction, all because of the fickle weather, Lexington’s hasty efficiency, and a crazy yearning by a cruiser screen commander to try his hand at carrier operations. Then came the message Karpov had quietly arranged, and the altered states were about to alter yet again…
*
“What do you make of this?” said Halsey, looking over the strange signal that they had just received on fleet channels. Captain George Murray leaned in closer, his eyes tight.
“Who could have sent it?”
“Came in properly formatted,” said Halsey. “Looks like it’s from Chief of Naval Ops, but the signal fad
ed out and we lost it. This is all we got, but by god it’s a mouthful! This thing is telling me the Japanese fleet is a couple hundred miles northwest of our planned rendezvous point!”
“Could it have been a sighting by one of our PBYs , or perhaps a sub?” Murray was very interested now.
“Well we need to get someone out there and take a good long look. This little exercise we’ve planned may become something else sooner than we expect. Let’s get Search Six up right away.”
*
“Squadron Leader to Little Lost Lambs… report status by assigned order.” Lieutenant Commander Hopping was in Plane 6S-1 polling his sheep.
“Little Lamb 2, all clear,” same the voice of radioman Jinks on Ensign Teaff’s 6S-2. And one by one the others in the flock all called home, until Ensign Weber’s radioman Keaney was about to sign off with the last all clear. But Teaff’s keen eye thought he saw something, probably another oiler like the one they had overflown ten minutes earlier, the Richfield tanker, Pat Doheny. But the longer he looked, the more he saw, until his eyes finally widened with the shock that was soon to ripple through the entire US Pacific Fleet.
“Holy cow! Jinks! Do you see what I see off the port bow?”
“Who the hell are they?” said Jinks.
“Christ almighty! Those are aircraft carriers. Damn things are launching planes! Get on the blower and report!”
“Squadron leader, this is Little Lamb 1. Big Bad Wolf at 20 miles! My position: two-sixer point three north, one-five-seven west. Repeat Big Bad Wolf! Big Bad Wolf! Carriers!”
Jinks was so rattled that he sent that message right out in the clear, and it hopped into Lieutenant Commander Hopping’s head like a thunderbolt.
“Little Lamb One. Confirm. Did you say carriers?”
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