Divided We Stand (The Fighting Tomcats Book 2)

by M. L. Maki

LCDR Hunt sits across the table and is winding down her statement about yesterday’s events. “Sir, he was so focused on shooting us down, he forgot to look for the enemy. I told him he had an enemy on his six, but he couldn’t hear me. The Japanese missile hit on his left engine, inducing a flat spin. They ejected at about 5,000 feet. We shot down the enemy fighter who shot him and noted his location for helicopter pickup.”

  Halsey says, “Thank you, Commander. Are there any questions, gentlemen?”

  Captain Van Zandt asks, “When did you know Lt. Carleton was in the air?”

  “I figured it out after a couple of calls for Felix 541 to return to base, sir.”

  “When did you know he was trying to kill you?”

  “When I realized the plane on my six was a F-14, sir.”

  Johnson asks, “Why didn’t you shoot him down? You had the shot and your finger was on the trigger, which is why we have gun camera footage.”

  “I couldn’t, sir. It would have been murder.”

  Captain Miles says, “More like justifiable homicide, if you ask me.”

  “Is that a question, sir?”

  Miles shakes his head, “No, a statement. I believe you acted admirable. More than I would have under the circumstances.”

  “Sir, Lt. JG Boxter was also in that plane. He turned on his radar to warn us. He didn’t deserve to die regardless of his pilot’s actions.”

  Halsey says, “Captain Holtz? They’re your people.”

  Holtz says, “Lt. Carleton’s discipline problems and poor conduct in regards to women in uniform have already been discussed. The command believed that by removing him from Commander Hunt’s chain of command, and, in essence, ordering him to have no contact with her, the problem could be managed. I did not anticipate that he was capable of such horrible conduct. The gun sight camera footage and statements from the other pilots and RIOs, and crew, corroborate Commander Hunt’s testimony completely. The man is dead. What should we do now?’

  Halsey asks, “Special Agent Matthew?”

  Matthew says, “The knife that killed Chief White was handled by only one person, Lt. Carleton. The physical evidence at the scene, Chief White’s wounds, and the condition of Commander Hunt’s flight suit, all corroborate previous testimony. Furthermore, there is no contraindicative evidence. It is clear to me that Lt. Carleton, while in the act of committing aggravated rape, was interrupted by ADC Paul White, whom he attacked and killed. Carleton planned the attack and chose the location carefully, indicated by the note and the staged tool box. Had Chief White not interrupted him, it is clear to me that Lt. Carleton would have raped LCDR Hunt. The evidence and statements are sufficient to show that he attempted to kill LCDR Hunt in the air by cannon fire, and consequently, her RIO, Lt. JG Hawke.”

  Captain Johnson says, “The man was obsessed with Commander Hunt. His behavior degraded until he decided to kill her. His behavior is not due to the outside influence of any other person. His intent is now clear. His mental state is open to speculation but seems irrelevant at this time.”

  Halsey says, “I agree. I see only one more matter as to Lt. Carleton. Lieutenant Bishop, I believe the correct course is to submit the testimony and conclusions of this hearing into John Carleton’s permanent record and close it as deceased before he could be brought to justice. I want the charges to be one count of attempted aggravated rape, one count of murder, and three counts of attempted murder.”

  Lt. Watson asks, “Three counts, sir?”

  Halsey counts on his fingers, “Lieutenant Commander Hunt, her radar intercept officer, Lieutenant JG Hawke, and his own radar intercept officer, Lt. JG Boxter. Now, we need to discuss how we will deal with female servicemen going forward. I have a number of concerns that this type of thing may happen again.” He pauses, “We have time to discuss that issue later. Now, to the matter of Commander Hunt. It is possible for me to close this record, but I fear too many people already know. What are your wishes, Commander?”

  Sam says, “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir.”

  “Do you want us to lock up this event, keeping it secret in an attempt to protect your dignity?”

  Sam shakes her head, “No, I think Lt. Carleton’s behavior was an aberration. If women are going to serve in the United States Navy and be considered equals, they must accept that equal treatment means equal responsibility. I believe transparency is more important than my dignity, sir.”

  Halsey nods, “So, you see his behavior as an aberration. I do have my doubts there. It seems to me that war brings out both the best and worst in people. You’re not concerned that the event will color your leadership, and worse, the opinions of your subordinates?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You are brand new in command, I’m not surprised at your confidence.” He looks to the other panel members, “As the accused is deceased, I believe we should consider this matter closed.” Then to Van Zandt, “Send it up to Nimitz.” He pauses, thinking, then continues, “The final issue, command policy as it pertains to the treatment of female sailors. I wish widest dissemination. Any deliberate mistreatment of female sailors under my command will be dealt with in the harshest way commensurate with the offense. Any commander failing to report mistreatment, or failing to follow this order, will be summarily stripped of all rank and privileges and dismissed. Questions, gentlemen?”

  Sam raises her hand, “One, sir?”

  “Yes, Commander?”

  “Is it possible that Chief Paul White be buried with full honors as lost in battle? I’m asking for myself, but also for my squadron. He’s a huge loss. He was a mentor and friend to us all.”

  “Absolutely, Chris, so note. Anything else?” When there is no response. “Then this matter is closed. Thank you all.”

  HUNT FARM, STONE MOUNTAIN, TENNESSEE

  1115 local time, 16 JANUARY, 1942

  At thirty-seven years old, Margaret Hunt is still very pretty. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun, and this chill morning she is wearing a grey wool skirt, cream blouse, and a navy-blue cardigan. Looking down at the picture sitting on the letter from the Department of the Navy, she’s not sure she believes what she is seeing. Picking the picture up of the woman in an officer’s uniform, she takes it to a daguerreotype on the wall. The resemblance between the woman in the picture in her hand and the woman in the daguerreotype is uncanny.

  The woman on the wall is Melanie Hunt, her husband’s grandmother. Melanie is a legend in the family, for it is said that she held off a company of union cavalry who were trying to take her last breeding stock of horses. She was alone with a shotgun, a dog, and two grooms. She didn’t back down. She kept her horses.

  And now, the Department of the Navy of the United States of America is trying to tell her that her granddaughter has come back in time on a naval vessel. It’s so hard to believe. She picks up the letter and reads it again. “Well, she does look like a Hunt. If she has the same spirit as her great grandmother, she will win the war by herself.” Sitting down at the table, she reads the letter again, and begins to write.

  YOKOSUKA NAVAL BASE, TOKYO BAY, JAPAN

  0845, 17 JANUARY, 1942

  A grey Mercedes weaves between the still burning buildings and pulls to a stop. A captain steps forward and opens the door, and General Tojo steps out. He looks around, surveying the devastation, then, “Report, Captain.”

  Captain Himura says, “We have been hard hit, but we will recover. Four dry docks are damaged, three with ships in them. Dry dock two was badly hit, it will be many months before Atago can be freed from the debris and repaired. The battleship Yamashiro has been sunk in the bay. The carrier Hiryu was damaged at the pier. It sank but can be recovered and repaired. Our fuel supplies have been destroyed and the fuel stations have to be rebuilt. Much of our workshops and repair facilities are also damaged. We have 1,837 dead and many hundreds still missing, all trained and experienced workers.”

  Then they hear a distant boom and the roar of jets high overhead.

&nbs
p; ABOVE TOKYO BAY, 20,000 FEET AND MACH 2

  Swede’s F-14 carrying a Tactical Airborne Reconnaissance Pod System (TARPS) and two sidewinders, and Hot Pant’s F-14 carrying two AIM-7 Sparrow missiles and two AIM-9 Sidewinders, fly loose deuce over Tokyo Bay. On intercom, Swede says, “Damn, Gandhi, we hit them hard.”

  “I know, but I see a missile system on a truck being moved. They are already repairing.”

  GQ, over the radio, “Swede, I see a group of officers in the navy yard, request permission to engage.”

  “Not the mission, GQ. We may need that ordinance to make it back home.”

  TOKYO BAY, YOSUKA NAVY YARD

  General Tojo looks up, trying to make out the distant aircraft. When he spots the planes, he sees the distinctive triangle shape of an F-14 at high speed. “Captain, they return. Contact Chitose.”

  Captain Himura runs into a building as Major Ueno, Tojo’s chief of staff says, “General, you must seek cover.”

  “No, I must watch and learn; only a mole hides in a hole.”

  IN THE AIR

  Puffs of ack-ack bloom behind the planes as they make a gradual turn. Swede says, “Illuminate,” and both aircraft turn on their radar. As they continue the turn, Gandhi says, “Swede, we have fast movers at 100 miles out, at 010.”

  GQ says, “We have company, two fast movers at 100 miles and angels 30.”

  “We see them, GQ. Time to go home.” They continue the turn, then depart south east at high Mach.

  Gandhi says, “Knight 1, Knight 309, feet wet and bringing company.”

  They continue at high Mach, burning fuel and slowly climbing, the Japanese F-15s in pursuit. Then, 250 miles out to sea, they hear Puck, 100 miles ahead, “Illuminate.”

  Puck and Speedy turn on their radar, quickly acquiring the pursuing aircraft. They’re on station at 400 knots and 40,000 feet, now 80 miles ahead of Swede’s flight.

  Puck says, “Spike, I have lock. They are 160 miles out at high Mach. We’ll volley when in range.”

  “Okay, Puck.”

  Puck, on radio, “Speedy, we’ll volley two each on my mark. You have right and I have left.”

  On intercom, “Spike, they’re still boring in. Okay, good tone. Wait. Wait. Volley Fox 3,” and Spike and Thud pickle off four Phoenix missiles.

  Swede and Hot Pants are still out of range of the Japanese AIM-7 missiles, as the AIM-54s bear down on the pursuing jets. The Phoenix’s find their target as Swede and Hot Pants flash by and start to slow. One F-15 explodes and the other turns back.

  Speedy says, “That’s your kill, Puck. We were aiming at the other one.”

  Puck answers, “You got him, Speedy. There are parts falling off him.” They watch as the crippled F-15 falls into the sea.

  Spike and Thud are the air-fuel buddy stores, as well as air cover this day. Turning to catch up with the Swede and Hot Pants as they slow, they refuel the two thirsty Tomcats.

  Two hundred miles east, the four Tomcats form up behind four Black Knights with more buddy stores and refuel. Then, the eight Tomcats continue south east, flying at most economical. Three hundred miles further and eight S-3 Screw Birds tank them up, again. Three hundred more miles and they are home, landing aboard the Carl Vinson. Sixteen aircraft are needed to push two over 1,000 miles for a supersonic reconnaissance pass.

  CHAPTER 7

  USS CARL VINSON, ELEVATOR 3

  1400, 18 JANUARY, 1942

  The crew stands at attention in working uniform. The officers are in dress uniform: Halsey, Johnson, Patterson, Tucker, Zacharias, Wakefield, Bentley, Holtz, Sherman, and Hunt. Chaplain Chandler says a brief prayer, and they read the names and home towns of the fallen as the boatswains lift each flag-draped board to tip a body over the side.

  FC3 Bonnie Anderson, Long Beach, Washington, Carl Vinson

  MM3 Robert Baker, Johnstown, Georgia, Dunlap

  Lieutenant John Carleton, Allentown, Pennsylvania, Tomcatters

  Ensign Ulster Carmello, Lyman, South Dakota, Fanning

  GM3 Lindell Cartwright, Knoxville, Tennessee, Salt Lake City

  Lieutenant JG, Brian Duncan, Bradenton, Florida, Salt Lake City

  FC2 Christopher Ebbert, Albuquerque, New Mexico, Carl Vinson

  GM1 Lincoln Edwards, Prestonburg, Kentucky, Salt Lake City

  IC2 Michael Gilbertson, Balston Spa, New York, Salt Lake City

  BT1 Albert Grady, Lineville, Alabama, Salt Lake City

  Lieutenant Commander Peter Gregory, Fayetteville, North Carolina, Fife

  BMSN Dwight Hughes, Rutland, Vermont, Salt Lake City

  Lieutenant Commander Margaret Lafferty, Reading Pennsylvania, Fife

  Commander James Lamoure, Chico, California, Fife

  GMSN Nelson Lennon, Barnes, Wisconsin, Salt Lake City

  BM2 Pepper Lewis, Houma, Louisiana, Fife

  Lieutenant JG Larry Neel, Decatur, Illinois, Dunlap

  Lieutenant John Patterson, Savanna, Georgia, Fanning

  Lieutenant Walter Jones, Downey, California, Fife

  Ensign Hank Teal, Enterprise, Alabama, Salt Lake City

  ADC Paul White, Flagstaff, Arizona, Black Knights

  When the names are read, Chaplain Perry prays: “Lord, we surrender the bodies of these brave sailors to the deep, knowing that they rest with you. We ask that you lift up those lost over enemy territory. Please keep them safe and hold them close. In the name of the Our Lord, Jesus Christ, we all say, Amen.”

  After a moment, they all turn back into the ship and Captain Johnson walks up to Sam, “Commander?”

  She salutes, “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve been thinking. The day we came back in time, you manned the bridge for me. Are you interested in getting your SWO?”

  “Sir?”

  “Surface Warfare Officer. You know, someday you are going to command one of these. It would be handy to know how to drive one.”

  “Sir? Really? Me?”

  “You’re a good officer, a gifted pilot, and you have a level head. Yes, you. Do you want to earn your SWO?”

  “Yes, sir. I would be honored.”

  “Good. You’ll be on the watch bill starting tomorrow. I will send over the books.” Smiling, he turns and walks away.

  Sam, stunned, watches him leave, “My God, what have I gotten into?”

  WARDROOM 1, USS CARL VINSON

  1530, 1800 JANUARY, 1942

  The captains and XOs from all the commands in the battle group quietly find their seats. Sam walks to the rear and sits next to LCDR Jeremy ‘Frosty’ Winters, CO of the Fighting Red Cocks. He looks her in the eye, “How are you, Commander?”

  “I’m fine, Frosty. Really, I am.”

  Frosty starts to speak and LCDR Todd ‘Groovy’ Miller, CO of the Tomcatters joins them, “Is this seat taken?”

  Sam smiles, “No, please. How are you?”

  “Good, I’m getting worried about resupply, though.”

  Frosty says, “Yeah, but we are heading home. Hopefully it will sort itself out before we fight again.”

  Sam asks, “Where did you hear we are going home?”

  Frosty looks at her, “Did you get a good look at the Long Beach? The Fife? We got hammered in the missile attack. We have to go home and make repairs.”

  She says, “Yes, they do, but we don’t. We lost a CIWS, but other than that, we’re still ready to fight.”

  Groovy says, “We need to get a source for parts though. Especially our electronics.”

  Sam replies, “Have my guys shared the card testing rig they came up with?”

  Before Groovy can answer, Admiral Halsey and his staff walk in, “Attention on deck!” They all stand.

  Halsey walks to the front of the wardroom, “Fellas, we’ve done well, really well. We made the Japs bleed. Old Tojo is probably crying himself to sleep at night. But, let’s not kid ourselves, we still have a lot of fighting in front of us.

  “Here is where we stand,” pointing at a map. “We are here, about 1300 nautical miles from Japan. Tomorrow we w
ill be splitting the battlegroup. The Enterprise, San Francisco, Long Beach, Mugford, Anderson, and Kaiser will continue east and meet up with the Saratoga Task Force here. The Carl Vinson will turn south. We will swing by Wake and see how our boys are doing, then hit the Marshalls on our way to Australia. In Australia, we will make repairs and standby for further orders. Questions?”

  Commander Wakefield stands, “Sir, does the Camden have enough JP-5 to get us there?”

  “Good question. The Kaiser will transfer all its remaining JP-5 stores to the Camden before we split.”

  Captain Tenzar asks, “Sir, Vinson is down a CIWS. If we can figure out a way to remove it at sea, it can have one of mine seeing as I’ll be going into the yards anyway.”

  “Good idea. How could it be done? Can a helicopter lift the thing off the boat?”

  Commander Crocker says, “Yes, sir, as long as the CIWS is broken down into bite size pieces.”

  Halsey looks at Captain Johnson. Johnson says, “It’s a good idea.”

  ADMIRAL’S CONFERENCE ROOM

  1655, 18 JANUARY, 1942

  LCDR Brewster Flanagan, the Salt Lake City’s CHENG, steps into Admiral Halsey’s conference room, “You wished to see me, sir?”

  Halsey, sitting with his chief of staff, Captain Miles, says, “Yes, Commander. Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat.”

  When Flanagan is settled, Halsey says, “I’ve read Captain Zacharias’ report on the loss of your ship. You have nothing to be ashamed of or to regret. That isn’t why I want to see you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My question is simple; can you serve under a female commander?”

  “Um, sir, I guess so. As long as she, um, she’s competent. I don’t see that it would matter much. It would take some getting used to, though.”

  “Of course, it would. It means giving up your survivor leave as well, and I know that is a sacrifice. Are you willing to tackle learning a whole new type of propulsion plant from her, while running the same plant?”

  “Sir, does she know what she is talking about?”

  “I’m told she’s a systems expert. The Fife was decapitated by a missile. The present commander was a division officer for their number two propulsion plant and the senior officer who survived. She saved her ship, and I gave her command. She needs a chief engineer, I want you.