“No problem,” said Fukada. “We probably could have held those last two missiles and let the R2-D2s chew them up.” US Navy sailors often called the Phalanx that because of the cylindrical shape of the weapon mount, with its characteristic domed top. Fukada had picked up the slang in the Bars at Yokohama, drinking with American sailors. To hear him use the terms reminded Captain Harada of those days, when the US was an ally, and longtime defender of the new Japan that was built after the war. Here they were, fighting for the Imperial Japanese Empire now, yet most harbored misgivings about the world they might be living in if Japan were to win this war.
Harada still had profound doubts about that prospect. The miracles under his forward deck were running thin.
“That was twelve planes,” said Harada. “I’m standing here wondering if we’d be having this conversation if they threw sixty at us.”
No one said anything.
“Alright, come about to 020. Feed all present contact info to Yamamoto, and we’re off north. We’ll scout out towards the Duff Islands to make sure there’s nothing sneaking in north of the Santa Cruz Islands.”
* * *
It started on the morning of the 11th of January. The Americans had gathered their forces near the Ellice Islands, the wink of the two new scout carriers on the lanterns flashing through the morning haze. Gettysburg and Vicksburg had come all the way from Pearl, bigger versions of the Shiloh Class, with two dozen planes each, and 8-inch guns forward where the Shiloh had 6-inchers. That ship was also at hand with Antietam, to escort the Marine Para Battalion serving as a raiding unit for the planned operation in the New Hebrides.
The Vicksburg group was just the scouting and escort element of the American fleet. They would be tasked with feeling the way towards the New Hebrides to look for enemy carriers, the one threat Halsey was there to deal with if necessary. Behind that small task force, 8th Marine Regiment under Colonel Hall had boarded transports in Pago Pago four days ago and was now also closing on the scene.
It was now clear to both sides that the enemy was near. Planes off the Vicksburg had been the unfortunate group to stumble on Takami, but those off Gettysburg had overflown the many islands, and spotted the carriers that had bombed Ndeni earlier that day.
On the Japanese side, there had been a squadron of 12 Pete float planes at Efate, along with 18 Zeroes, with a number of Kates and Vals that had diverted there months ago in the first big carrier clash, and were never pulled off. One of those planes found TF-11 that morning, and before noon the Japanese sent word to Yamamoto that a strong force composed of carriers and battleships was east of the New Hebrides, and on a westward course. The American scout carriers had also been spotted, and so the travail of Gettysburg and Vicksburg had only just begun.
Carrier Division 1 could not send dive bombers out that far, but the torpedo planes could make the range. Unfortunately, the weather was stormy and looked to be worsening. That was one factor that had favored the two light hybrids, that and the fact that they had both gone to sea with their primary air groups fighter heavy. The US thought of these ships as defensive escorts and long range scouts, and armed them accordingly with 18 Hellcats and six strike planes, which were mostly used in the naval search role.
So the Japanese would come with a fairly light strike group, just 11 Zeroes escorting in 21 Kates, and they would meet 32 fighters alert on overhead CAP. In the tangled fight over the small task force, the US pilots would get only two Zeroes but nail 10 of those 21 Kates. Those that got through made a plaintive run on the Vicksburg, which hit nothing but seawater.
Ten more Kates and eight Zeroes had followed a few minutes later and found an equal number of US Fighters still on the scene. Armed with bombs instead of torpedoes so they could extend their range, the Kates also made an awkward attack from 9000 feet, saw five of their group shot down, and hit nothing.
Aboard Yamato with Carrier Division 1, Yamamoto met with Ugaki to review their options.
“Three sightings are now confirmed,” said Yamamoto. “One reports only two ships, but one must be a carrier, as it attacked our picket.”
“What happened?” asked Ugaki, curious as to whether Takami could survive an attack by an American carrier.
“Takami prevailed, though they report no more than two dozen enemy planes were detected. Your advice to use the torpedo planes in a long range bombing role was clever, but it ultimately failed. Those pilots are not trained in that role. I know you believed it imperative that we launch the first blow, but we should have waited and hit them with a better coordinated strike.”
The weather looks too bad for further operations today,” said Ugaki. “We can close the range tonight, and be ready to strike at dawn. Shall we move west above the New Hebrides?”
Yamamoto thought for a moment. “They know we are here, as the strike on Ndeni and this skirmish with Takami would lead them to believe that is exactly what we are doing. So I intend to take a more indirect approach. We will sail south instead, and remain west of the New Hebrides. We also have a few planes left on Efate, so I think we will rendezvous there, perhaps 50 miles west of that island. When we attack, I will order those land based planes to lead the way. That may confuse the Americans even more, particularly when our main strike comes in like Donryu, behind that first wave.”
Donryu meant “Storm Dragon,” and it would be a good description of what a massed attack from all the Japanese carriers might look like.
“Very well,” said Ugaki. “I will see that the orders are given. But what if the Americans do move north?”
“We shall see,” said Yamamoto, knowing that this chess came had to be played out one move at a time.
* * *
The same question was now in front of Halsey, and he would answer it for reasons very similar to those that had brought Yamamoto to his decision. The two American strike groups had lingered in the north near the gap between the New Hebrides and Santa Cruz Islands, but no major battle developed. There had only been the inconsequential Japanese sniping at the US scout carriers, which came to nothing.
“What do you make of this,” asked Captain Duncan on the Essex. “The Japs are playing things fairly cool up here.”
“I don’t like it,” said Halsey. “I’ve been standing out on the weather deck for the last four hours with this big fat white helmet on to give them something to aim at, but we haven’t seen a single plane. That business with the Vicksburg group was a little odd too. Rockets? Hansen reported they started taking down his planes before they ever got anywhere near the ship that fired them. So they had to be radar controlled, and that is good reason to be worried out here. How’d the Japs come up with this dog and pony show?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Duncan. “You figure that was an advanced picket?”
“That’s what it looked like, a lone ship out like that, but there was nothing behind it. So now I’m starting to think the Japs are up to something else. They either intended this operation against Ndeni as nothing more than a nuisance raid, or they have other fish to fry—down south.”
“Ndeni isn’t anywhere near the top of our list now,” said Duncan. “I can see that they might want to hit the place, but not with the number of carriers we had a line on yesterday. So you figure they went south?”
“That’s their main beat,” said Halsey. “Every time they sortied in the last three months it was to cover the supply runs out of Noumea into Fiji. Things are heating up on the ground over there now that MacArthur has taken over. That man won’t waste any time getting himself a headline, and he’s got a bone to pick with the Japs after the Philippines. So I think we’ll move south as originally planed and stand west of Efate to wait for the Marines.”
Duncan’s question echoed that of Ugaki. “What if they do come through the north channel behind that picket?”
“We’ll still be able to hit them from where I plan to be. We’ll proceed with our original operation, and see if they want to do anything about it. If they did co
me south, then they’ll be west of the New Hebrides, that much is clear, and I think that’s where they’ll stay. In fact, our job is to keep them there, and out of the waters between there and Fiji.”
“What if we head south and nobody shows?”
“Then we do what we came here to do—put those Marines ashore at Efate. After that I’m going to visit Noumea, and then pound the Japs on Fiji for good measure.”
That night both sides moved south on roughly parallel tracks, and as it happened, both Yamamoto and Halsey were in the vanguard. Hara’s Carrier Division 3 had been up near Ndeni for the raid, then rendezvoused with the Tosa, battleship Fuso and two heavy cruisers. That force had planned to finish the job at Ndeni, but the sudden detection of enemy carriers scuttled that operation. Instead Yamamoto decided to reinforce Hara with that additional carrier as both divisions headed south, but Hara was over 100 miles behind.
As for Halsey, he led the Spruance group by about 50 miles, and the two scout carriers were even farther north after that encounter with the strange lone picket with those disturbing rocket flak weapons. That was going to bring the principles into direct confrontation on the 14th of January, like two rams butting heads. Halsey would pit his three new Essex Class carriers against Yamamoto’s Carrier Division 1, composed of the venerable Kaga, Akagi and Soryu.
The Japanese threw the first punch, their long range Kate torpedo bombers out on patrol spotting the US fleet and getting a report off before the American CAP ended that sortie. At the same time, several Dauntless search planes passed north of New Caledonia and spotted the Japanese west of Efate. Three were shot down, but Lieutenant Commander Hamilton got off his report before he died—spotted three Jap Carriers, course and estimated speed to follow. That last data never came in, but knowing his flight patrol pattern, the US had a good idea where he was when he made the sighting. That got the hair on the Captain’s necks up, and they threw every plane they had into the great skies, keeping their fingers crossed.
As it happened, they were the closest task force to the little action then under way east of Efate, and so they threw up a probing raid that might have been stronger had the information on the location of the American carriers been more refined, or the weather a little better. As it was, several squadrons of Kates veered off course in the heavy cloud cover, and they would all be late to the party.
68 planes came in a little after 11:00, 37 Vals escorted by 23 Zeroes, but only one squadron of eight Kates. Halsey was waiting for them. He had decided to put up a very thick defensive CAP, and there were all of 67 US fighters assigned that morning, 60 percent of his total fighter strength. It was the heaviest defense the Japanese had ever encountered in their many duels with the fighting Admiral, and it would only get stronger. It wasn’t just the numbers of planes involved, but also the kind of planes being flown. The Essex Class had been given the new F6F Hellcat, and the plane was about to get its first real field test against the Japanese Zero.
In all that action, a few hot shot pilots off the American carriers started making a name for themselves. Ensigns Hammond, Gilbert, Wars and Long each got three kills. Rice got four. Five of those kills were enemy fighters, and then the defenders took down twelve Vals and a single Kate before the attack finally came in on Halsey’s carriers. Then it was white knuckle time, hands on the gunwales, guns elevated and the sky pocking up with dark roses of fire.
Chapter 15
The Japanese pilots were good, all still veterans of the many actions they had fought since Pearl Harbor, but the flak they were now facing was more intense than any they had ever encountered. When the war started, ships like the original Yorktown went to sea with an AA suite composed of eight 5-inch guns, a single quad 1.1, and two dozen .50 caliber machineguns. The new Yorktown was much better armed, with the same number of 5-inch guns, but a suite of eight quadruple 40mm Bofors, and 46 more 20mm cannon. It was more than three times the firepower of the old ship, and there were three flattops down there throwing all that lead skyward—and three battleships, one assigned to each of the Essex Class carriers on close escort.
North Carolina was riding shotgun for Essex, and that was a good name for the flak that ship could add to the fight. She had 15 of the dual purpose 5-inch guns, and by this time, her old, unreliable 1.1s had been replaced by 15 new quad 40mm Bofors, making 60 individual guns in that suite alone. Added to that, the ship had another 48 of the 20mm Oerlikon 20mm guns. All three of these gun types would end up being the best of their class for overall AA performance at sea during the war. It wasn’t just the numbers that had gotten so much better. The US also had installed better search and fire control radars.
The Japanese came in, one Shotai after another, but there were only 32 strike planes left, and as good as they were, they did not score a single hit on the American fleet. There were several close calls, one very near the Essex, but Halsey was gratified that the attack had been beaten off with no damage to his ships.
Then, one by one, small groups of enemy torpedo bombers that had gone astray in the heavy weather were finally drawn in to the action. Four of six were shot down in the first group; five of fourteen in the second small wave. Not a single torpedo found a ship’s hull, and Halsey was exhilarated. It was good hunting that day for the Fly Boys, and they were in high spirits when the skies finally cleared and they made it back to the carriers.
The enemy had taken the first swing, missing wildly, and got cut up with some good stiff jabs from his CAP as he tried to get inside. Now it was time to counterpunch. The American strike had launched 45 minutes earlier, and it was over the Japanese fleet at about the same time this action occurred.
Halsey had thrown 67 Dauntless dive bombers and 25 Avenger torpedo bombers at his enemy, though the escort was fairly light, only 21 Hellcats. The Japanese had twice as many fighters up on CAP from Carrier Division 1, and the Long Range CAP from Hara’s group was also vectored in to put all of 84 Zeroes in the air.
The fighters swirled above, getting only two of those Zeroes and losing three of their own, then the remaining Zeroes fell on the American strike squadrons and inflicted a good deal of carnage. They would kill 17 dive bombers, damaging 23 more, and kill eight Avengers with damage on five others, heavy losses to pay for the privilege of getting close enough to deliver ordnance on the enemy. But the US flyers had a little luck that day. None of their torpedoes ran true from the few that were launched, but the surviving dive bombers came falling from the sky, the enemy carriers below looking like great fat whales that had breached the surface for air, leaving long white wakes behind them.
Down they came, the trapeze swinging the bombs forward from the centerline of the planes. The first fell close to Kaga, a wash of foamy white seawater laced with shrapnel erupting from the port side of the ship. The deck crews in white uniforms and caps shirked when it hit, but the worst they received was that sea spray. One man’s arm was streaked red with blood where an errant bit of shrapnel had scored him, but he ignored the wound, dragging out a fire hose in the event something did more damage.
Something did.
Both Kaga and Soryu would be hit amidships that day. The hit to Kaga was the hardest blow, the AA crews on a triple 25mm gun ducking when it struck, erupting on the deck in the midst of three fighters parked for ready CAP. The angry orange fireball erupted, sending a hail of deck planking in all directions, blowing the wing off one plane and sending its propeller spinning wildly up into the air. The explosion blew through the flight deck, where another flock of green winged Kates were clustered. The sudden roar of the explosion and brilliant yellow heat coming through the deck above sent service and ordnance crews running from the scene. Then the real damage was done.
The explosion ignited the carts and sleds bearing ammo and torpedoes for those planes, and now a second explosion billowed from the side of the ship beneath a column of thickening black smoke above. Heavy fires raged from the deck wound, and one man came running from the edge of the flames, one arm missing, his back on fire,
his eyes wide and mouth open with voiceless terror. Three other men were down, screaming from the pain of severe burns. Another was completely immolated, his limp body being consumed by flames fed by the spilled and burning aviation fuel that had ignited in the wings of those fighters.
Off by the island, a waiting pilot stood stunned in shock, slack jawed, slumped against the cold metal of a hatch that was painted red with his own blood. A fragment had grazed his head, slicing off a portion of his scalp. He would live, though he had come within a few millimeters of cold unconscious death. Now all he could do was stare in numbed shock at the scene on the flight deck. The living were dragging the wounded, and the flaming bodies of the dead, from the edge of those searing fires. High above, a flight of three Zeroes were swooping in hot pursuit after those dive bombers, but one veered off and overflew the ship, shocked to get a bird’s eye view of the carnage.
Yamamoto had been on the weather deck watching the attack, even as his own ship was straddled by a pair of 100 pound wing mounted secondary bombs that missed by no more than 50 yards. He grimaced when he saw the secondary explosion billow up from the Red Castle, the black smoke thick above the wound. The last time Kaga had been hit, the damage was done by a single rocket off the mysterious Siberian raider, Mizuchi. This time the enemy wore a more familiar face.
The attack quieted at least one fear he had held—that the Siberians would give the Americans their rocket weapons. Captain Harada and his Executive Officer might have told him that was not possible, but he had never asked them about it. Yet to see Kaga burning was a most uncomfortable feeling, for he had no idea how bad the damage was at this point.
Now both sides would work to turn over the recovered planes, and get more in the air while the daylight lasted. The action had taken over an hour, and it was not until 01:30 that both sides would begin recovery. Then the process began: lifting planes from the hangars to the flight deck, spotting them, placing chocks, recovering and launching planes assigned to CAP, inspecting ordnance loads, warming up the engines, final briefing for the pilots, and finally, about 45 minutes later, the second strike was ready. This time it would be much weaker. Kaga reported it had to suspend flight operations, and could not even receive its incoming planes, which had to be diverted north toward Carrier Division 3, with another nine ordered to land on Efate.
1943 (Kirov Series Book 27) Page 13