1943 (Kirov Series Book 27)

by John Schettler

  “Then you will just sit here and order the men to dig in?”

  “Of course not. I will wait until the Americans come, and then annihilate them. In the meantime, the men should not be sitting idle. So yes, they will dig in, and shore up the AA gun positions in case more American planes arrive.”

  “More American planes…” Togashi shook his head. “Where are our planes now? It was shameful to see them fly off two days ago as they did.”

  “I am told they went to Luganville to prepare the counterattack on Efate. That island is much closer to Tulagi, which is now operating as a forward supply base for the New Hebrides.”

  “This was supposed to be that base,” said Togashi. “Something tells me the enemy has awakened, like a sleeping dragon that stirs in the dark. How could they still hold Fiji when all of the 38th and 48th Divisions were sent there? How could the Americans fight that battle and yet also attack Efate, and now Noumea?”

  “Useless questions,” said Ichiki stoically. “We need only concern ourselves with this moment. We will wait here until the Americans think to advance up Route 1 and take this airfield. Then I will attack and destroy them. How many troops could they have landed? A thousand? Two thousand? We have more than enough men to destroy them if that is the case. Have you sent word to 3rd Battalion?”

  “Yes sir. Colonel Goto is already marching to Noumea to join Colonel Mizuno. Are you certain we should not do the same?”

  “And leave the airfield undefended? What if they have enough ships to put men ashore to our north?”

  “They cannot land there; the mangroves are too thick on the shore.”

  “Mangroves? There is a beach just north of Tomo where they could put in a raiding force. Did you not read the report of the raid on Makin Island? We must hold this airfield! Now… Place Higuchi’s Company to watch the north road. Sawada is to move a thousand meters south and establish a picket line astride Route 1. Maruyama will wait here on the line, his men facing south. Chiba will hold his men in reserve. As for the Engineers, they are to take up rifles and await further orders.”

  In spite of his urge to move the whole battalion south to Noumea, the Captain heard the sternness of iron in Ichiki’s tone, and knew orders when he heard them.

  “Sergeant Nakamoto!”

  “Hi!” The Sergeant was the HQ Runner, and always close at hand.

  “Order Lieutenant Sawada to move his men out, a thousand meters to the south, and establish an outer defensive line. They will then await further orders.”

  After a stiff bow and salute, Sergeant Kiyoshi Nakamoto was off at a run. The Colonel tramped off to look over the defenses of the field. In his mind, it would only be a matter of time before fresh squadrons would arrive. His engineers had been busy repairing the crater damage to the field from two days past. Surely the Army and Navy would not leave him with only a handful of float planes at this strategically vital base. So when the new planes came, he had to be ready.

  As for the Americans, they were now finding that even an unopposed landing in the pre-dawn darkness was an invitation to chaos. It would take three hours before the regiment had even one full battalion ashore and got it sorted out. Then the boats would return to the AP transports and start the process over. Much of the equipment for the battalion landed was also still on those transports, and so it would end up taking the Americans all that morning to simply get their men ashore and in reasonable order.

  Patrols had been pushed out in the early afternoon, but nothing was seen. It wasn’t until 4pm that the ammunition loads, mortar teams and heavy weapons were actually delivered, and the 163rd Regimental commander, Colonel Jens A. Doe ,spent most of the day merely getting his men ashore and ordered for battle, but he was grateful for the interval of relative calm, unmolested by the enemy.

  Yet landing was one thing, securing the vast span of this island would prove to be quite another. New Caledonia was all of 250 miles long. Carriers positioned south of Noumea could therefore not really control the airspace in the northern segment of the island. While there were no good ports there, it would still be possible for the Japanese to move troops and supplies in on small fast ships, even destroyers. Given the limitations on shipping, it had not been possible to make landings there concurrent with the assault on Noumea, and given the lack of motor transport, Colonel Doe knew they weren’t going to get up north any time soon. For now, it would be enough to secure Noumea, root out the French and Japanese units here, and bring in adequate supplies and air support units.

  The Japanese would fight hard, that was a given. As for the French garrison, some were not happy about the odd twist of fate that had made enemies of former friends in this war. They had heard what had happened in Casablanca, and how Germany simply devoured France after Operation Torch. They also knew that all the Colonies of French North Africa were no longer under their control. Some remained bitter about their nation’s lot in the war, others looked to the future and decided who they might best ally with in years to come. They had an intense dislike for the stern Colonel Ichiki and his battalions of roughhewn Japanese infantry, and so for many, the arrival of the Americans was seen as a kind of liberation.

  This meant the French defense was halfhearted, with many men of the French garrison simply throwing away their arms and melting into the population. The Americans would land to the north and south of the harbor, intending to cut the coastal road in both sectors and isolate Noumea. Only one battalion of Ichiki’s Regiment was in the town, and it soon found itself cut off from the rest of the regiment, and faced with the swelling numbers of a full US infantry division.

  Yet this battle was only just beginning, and Colonel Doe and the rest of the 41st would soon learn that in a most uncomfortable way. It would be Admiral Hara’s planes that would do the most damage, swooping in over the anchorages like malicious dark crows. The bombs came whistling down, blasting the cruisers Minneapolis, Quincy, and Chicago, and putting enough damage on each to force them to retire to Sidney with Spruance. Cargo transports Largs Bay, Esperance Bay, and Diomed were left burning the latter half capsized in the bay. But most of the APDs had been further north and south, escaping harm. The only other ship that was hit was the destroyer Monaghan. All in all, Hara’s pilots scored 18 hits, all with bombs, but mostly on the ships that had been assigned to attack Noumea Harbor.

  Halsey was too late to get fighter cover over the landings, something MacArthur complained about liberally. By the time he did get there, sending waves of blue winged fighters over the scene, Hara had recovered his planes, saw the gathering darkness, and turned away north. He would cover the movement of troops to Luganville now, finishing the deployment of the entire Japanese 20th Infantry Division. One regiment went there, another to Ndeni to take that outpost away from the enemy, and the last to Efate to tussle with the 8th USMC Regiment for control of that island.

  As for Sergeant Wilson and the 112th Cavalry, they were still at sea, well south, and intended as a follow up unit for the Noumea landings. Colonel Julian Cunningham was already briefing his men as to what had happened and where they were really going. Captain Leonard was making the rounds to all Squadron commanders, finding Major Ruppert Johnson (1st Squadron), and telling him the men should get into full kit immediately.

  So it was a sleepless night for Wilson and his troopers. The next day they would arrive at Noumea, see the three burning transports, and look warily skyward. All they would see were Halsey’s planes. By that time Hara was long gone, and Halsey would stand a stubborn watch with his fighters until all the remaining equipment was safely ashore, and MacArthur calmed down. Strategically, neither side could prevent the other from moving their troops, and a day later the convoy bearing the 112th Cavalry arrived. Soon they were mostly ashore, the last of the Whaler horses being led down the gangplanks. Yet as the men assembled neat the Nickel Dock, the smell of smoke and ash was heavy over the city. They could see fires raging, and still hear the sound of heavy fighting.

  In the city itself, the U
S infantry had surrounded the single battalion the Japanese had there. Rather than surrender, the Japanese set fire to every building they occupied, fixed bayonets, and charged the Americans with their fury. They soon found what so many had learned in the last war, that charging men with bayonets were, in the end, no match for men sitting behind .50 caliber machineguns.

  Ichiki’s 1st Battalion under Colonel Mizuno died to a man.

  When it was over, the first job the 112th would be given was to rig up makeshift sleds from old doors and wall siding, and use them to cart off the dead.

  Morgue detail, thought Sergeant Wilson. My god, look at the bodies, ours and theirs. We’ll haul them out east of the city and be done with it, but this can’t be all the Japs on this island. I’m told the 41st took heavy casualties against this lot. It’s going to be tougher here than we thought.

  It would be days before Wilson and the rest of his Regiment would get billeted north of Noumea. They were going to be used in the role best suited for cavalry, as advanced scouts in recon operations. Word was that another battalion of Japanese troops had been south and east of Noumea, and the 112th was going to be tasked with getting down there to see what they were up to.

  Part IX

  Eye of the Storm

  “They sicken of the calm who know the storm.”

  — Dorothy Parker

  Chapter 25

  The battle of Mataso Strait

  When Vice Admiral Lee heard what happened to two of his battleships he was quite upset. He had been all ready to ease into this new command, setting his flag on the newest arrival, BB-58, Indiana. He was excited at the prospect of having a square division with all four of the Navy’s newest fast battleships, the best in the fleet until they delivered the Iowa class ships.

  “Don’t worry sir,” said the Captain, Aaron Stanton Merrill. “I got the assessment from Port Stanley. South Dakota took a hit, but it didn’t even penetrate her anti-torpedo bulwark. It was only minor damage and there was no effect to her speed or fighting ability. Halsey cut her loose to join us shortly. North Carolina will take another couple weeks, but she’ll be ready again soon, good as new. It’s just hull plating and some damage to interior compartments on her port side. In the meantime, we’ve got Indiana here, and Washington. That’s a pretty good one-two punch.”

  Lee walked to the weather deck, taking in the sweet cool air after the rain. “I heard they put some hurt on the Jap battleships in that carrier group. Sent them packing.”

  The pilots had claimed several hits, but the shock of seeing rockets taking down the lead elements of the strike was still raging through the fleet like a fire on the foredeck. Lee didn’t know what to make of it, but he wasn’t worried about it either. You don’t hurt a ship like the Indiana with a Ack-Ack rocket, no matter how good it was.

  “Aye sir,” said Merrill. “The Japs took hits alright, but in some ways I wish the flyboys hadn’t chased them home. All that does is postpone the day when we get a crack at them. After all, they built the battleships to win this war, didn’t they? Look what the Japs went after when they hit Pearl—the battleships. It’s time we proved our worth out here.”

  Merrill was a black shoe Captain to be sure. Some called him Merrill the marauder, but those closer to him simply used the nickname ‘Tip,’ which had been a family nickname for the males ever since his great-grandfather fought at the battle of Tippecanoe in 1811. It was no coincidence that the battle was fought in Indiana territory at that time. Merrill had put in a direct request for a posting to the ship named for his state when he learned it was to be commissioned, feeling lucky to be selected.

  He had started on the Destroyer Aylwin in 1912, then Williamson in 1929, before moving up to the Heavy Cruiser Pensacola. He was thrilled when they gave him the Indiana, though Nimitz was eyeing him for a promotion to Vice Admiral and a full Cruiser Squadron. For now, with so many of the cruisers sustaining damage, particularly off Noumea when Hara raided the landing sites, Merrill would stay on his beloved battleship Indiana.

  Lee had been cut loose by Halsey and ordered to steam into the waters between the New Hebrides and Fiji, just to make sure the Japanese weren’t trying to run any reinforcements or supplies to Nandi. They linked up with South Dakota there, then got orders to advance north to Efate to support the 8th Marine Regiment. The Japanese had put in reinforcements, with a full regiment of the 20th Division landing on the north shore of that island. Arriving on fast transports escorted by destroyers at night, they assembled quickly and then made a concerted advance on Port Havana, a small protected bay that had been taken by the Marines before they moved southeast to seize Port Vila. Now the Japanese would take it back to have a place to move in supplies, and that had to be stopped.

  It was the last operation Hara’s 3rd Carrier Division covered before it turned for Rabaul, its overall mission accomplished. Now Halsey was well to the south, hovering off Noumea to be certain the Japanese could not do any further harm to MacArthur’s transports still offloading supplies there. So Lee was out in a fast surface action group, exhilarated to be running free, the spray high over the long swept bow of the ship, clearing skies, and the smell of the recent rain still fresh on the air. The three battleships were accompanied by the AA cruisers San Juan, San Diego, and the light cruisers Cleveland and Honolulu. A single destroyer, the Nicholson, was out on point, and on the morning of January 31st, it was approaching the small island of Mataso north of Efate, little more than a scrub covered hilly rise in the sea, less than two miles long. It was completely uninhabited, but Nicholson was going to put ashore a small team of coast watchers with a cache of supplies to watch Mataso Strait. Before they could do that, they had uninvited company.

  Commander John Stuart Keating still had the ship, though this was going to be the first real action he had beyond picking up survivors off a torpedoed Norwegian merchant freighter in the Atlantic. His Gleaves/Benson Class destroyer had then been transferred to the Pacific, and the welcome it was about to receive was most unsettling. Executive Officer Lew Markham took the sighting report from the top watch, coming in through the hatch to the weather deck.

  “Two tall pagoda style mainmasts at 330. Looks like heavy ships, and from the look of that bow wash they’re coming on fast.”

  Nicholson was ten miles ahead of Lee’s main body, so Keating got off a sighting report right away—sighted, two heavy cruisers, bearing 330, my position, course 065, estimate 28 knots. They had the course and speed right, but not the ship class. The lead ship coming at them was the new super cruiser Amagi, racing through the clear morning swells as she maneuvered to take position ahead of the real heavyweight behind her, battleship Hiraga. The US pilots may have been correct when they claimed those hits on the Japanese heavies, but they were tougher ships than they realized.

  While both Hiraga and Satsuma had taken hits, neither one had sustained any serious damage. At least four bombs struck each ship, but the Japanese had been pleased to see that the heavy deck armor had absorbed much of the impact. Older ships like the Kongo Class battlecruisers had no more than 60mm deck armor. The Nagato had two armored decks combining for about 140mm protection. Hiraga was a step up from that, with her two armored decks totaling 200mm. Only Yamato was better protected, with 226mm. So here were ships the US thought were damaged and sent home, instead relatively unscathed, undaunted, and looking for a fight. The Japanese had already spotted the US destroyer on their radar, and now Amagi opened up on it with her main guns.

  Before Commander Keating could give another order, those rounds were already framing his ship with alarming accuracy for a first salvo. Then an explosion aft rocked the boat, and another round hit the side of the ship to penetrate deep within.

  Keating didn’t know it yet, but the Nicholson had been dealt a near fatal blow. The guns were not those of a typical heavy cruiser at 8 inches, but the new 12.2-inch main battery of the Amagi Class. Nicholson’s boilers were hit, the white steam hissing out with a wail, scalding three men unlucky enough to
be close at hand. That was going to see her speed fall off dramatically, leaving her to wallow in the sea and take whatever else the Japanese could throw at her, and with little chance of surviving the encounter. The rounds that struck aft had also wrecked her depth charge racks, and two of her four 127mm gun turrets were also out of action with the fires and smoke obscuring all.

  Thankfully, Keating was not alone, but he knew he was in a very bad situation now. Behind him, the lead ship in Lee’s line was the Atlanta Class light AA cruiser San Juan. That ship was bristling with sixteen 127mm dual purpose guns, and many more lighter caliber AA weapons.

  Captain James Maher saw the dark smoke rising into the clearing skies before he got the sighting report. A battle was underway before they knew one was coming. He gave the order all ahead flank, and came charging to the rescue, not really knowing what the Nicholson had encountered until the signalman came in with the report. He was some ten nautical miles from the enemy ships, barely able to make them out in the distance. But off to the northwest, the second Atlanta Class CLAA, San Diego, was also vectoring in on the action, and now he saw that ship was under fire, barely able to make out the tall sea spray of falling rounds.

  Whatever was out there had to be big, with guns large enough to have the range to engage San Diego. Maher turned to his signalman and told him to notify Lee. “Tell him we confirm two large capital ships bearing 330, and they just blew the Nicholson to hell.”

  Reports were coming in flurries. Captain Russell Berkey was on the San Diego, already in action from the northwest against the Amagi, and now both those ships were taking hits. But Amagi was in another weight class compared to the US cruisers. San Diego and San Juan displaced just under 8500 tons, with belt armor no more than 95mm at its thickest point, and only 32mm on the deck and turrets. The Amagi was rightfully classed as a light battlecruiser, displacing 12,000 tons, and armed with three triple 12.2-inch main gun turrets. She might even stand with the likes of the older British ships like Renown and Repulse, and certainly had more throw weight than those ships, even if the British battlecruisers had 15-inch guns.