Divided We Stand (The Fighting Tomcats Book 2)

by M. L. Maki

  Loder sputters, “Are you telling me that this woman commands the best squadron on your vessel?”

  Holtz says, “Milord, I am telling you that Commander Hunt is, right now, likely the best fighter pilot in the world. I admit to having my doubts in the past, but she has proven herself to me.”

  Halsey says, “Governor, please allow me to introduce you to Commander Carpenter. He commands the squadron assigned to Australia,” and he and Nimitz walk the Governor away.

  Sam turns to Holtz, “Papa, did you mean what you just said?”

  “Yes, but don’t let it go to your head. You’re a good pilot, Commander and you’re learning to be a good leader.”

  Swede asks, “Papa, why does Halsey hate Spike?”

  “He doesn’t, Swede. He…Look, do your job and don’t sweat the high-level politics. That’s my job.”

  Sam says, “Yes, sir.”

  OUTSIDE THE SEAMAN’S SHANTY, WOOLLOOMOOLOO

  2340, 13 FEBRUARY,1942

  Staggering from the bar, very drunk, Diggory says, “Hey, me mates. Let me drive all ya to the base. We’re way too tanked to walk.”

  Ham says, “We’re too drunk to drive, too. Can we get a cab?”

  Diggory says, “A what mate? Ah, a taxi. Not at this end of town. Yer more likely t’find a fag in a bush then a taxi here.”

  Duck, confused, “A fag?”

  “A cigarette, mate.”

  Ham says, “You think you can drive?”

  “Oiy, I reckon. I’m not as pissed as the rest of you lot. Come on now. Just climb inta my Ford and we’ll be off.”

  HANGER BAY, USS CARL VINSON, GARDEN ISLAND

  0010, 14 FEBRUARY, 1942

  Sam and Swede are quietly walking among the parked aircraft. Swede asks, “Did you know they were flying off the Blue Diamonds?”

  “No, it’s the first time I’ve heard anything about it. It’s probably why Nimitz flew out. It reduces our air wing a lot. It looks like they will be flying off a Hawkeye and a prowler as well.”

  “So, we got our ass kicked by Japan with our full force, and now we’re splitting us up and having another go at it. This is stupid, Spike.”

  “Swede, Papa is right. We need to focus on our job and let the leadership do theirs.”

  They are interrupted by the sound of singing. Ham, Duck and the guys are making their way through the parked aircraft singing, “Whistle while you work. Hitler is a jerk. Mussolini broke his weenie, now it doesn’t work.”

  Sam stops them, “What’s going on guys?”

  They look at her weaving and salute. Newburg says, “Ma’am, I’ve just had the best bloody night of my life, ma’am,” and salutes again.

  Ham grins, “We found an awesome bar. The Aussies are awesome, ma’am. I’ll get us all to bed.”

  Gellar grins fatuously, “Yes, ma’am. We’ll get them to bed.”

  A master at arms joins them, “Shipmates, you’re drunk and disorderly.”

  Ham, quieter, “We are serenading our commanding officer. What’s your problem?”

  Sam says, “Master at Arms, they’re fine. I’ll see them to bed. You can go now.” The MAA hesitates, then turns and leaves. “Swede, go find Fluffy. We need a drunk watch on these guys. I’ll take Lori to her berthing.”

  She takes Lori’s arm and gently moves her along to the passageway.

  CHAPTER 14

  ADMIRAL HALSEY’S OFFICE, USS CARL VINSON

  1410, 14 FEBRUARY, 1942

  Admiral Nimitz joins Halsey in his office, “Okay, Bill, what would you say about the performance of Commander Wakefield? You gave her command of the Fife?”

  “I did. That ship uses a different type of propulsion system and weapons suite. She did an outstanding job of leading her ship through the aftermath of the attack and saved it. I felt she deserved a chance. She’s done well. I’ve heard no complaints and she’s always on station and ready.”

  “Good, but that leads to another question. If you are comfortable with Commander Wakefield’s performance, why are you taking issue with Commander Hunt’s performance?”

  “Sir?”

  “You would never tolerate any other of your officers being treated the way the Governor treated her. You said nothing.”

  “You didn’t either, sir.”

  “If you think back, I did speak up. But, we’re talking about you and she is your officer. You were behaving out of character, and I want to know why.”

  “Yes, sir. Sir, you are aware of what happened to her just before the strike on Japan?”

  “Fill in the blanks, Bill.”

  “Prior to launching the attack, another officer, Lt. Carleton raped her. He was interrupted by a chief and he murdered him. Now, tell me sir, how can her men respect her after she was raped?”

  “Do they respect her?”

  “I don’t know. And sir, there is more. After Wake, she mouthed off to her CAG about me. She’s a loose cannon.”

  “Captain Holtz reported it?”

  “No, I over heard it. She questioned my decision to sink the carriers. She said the carriers were irrelevant and we should have hit the invasion fleet instead.”

  “Why didn’t you go after the invasion fleet?”

  “Sir, that isn’t the point. She had no business mouthing off about decisions her command makes.”

  “It is relevant, Bill. Why didn’t you focus on the invasion fleet? Wake fell, as you recall.”

  “It would have not mattered what I did, and the carriers were some of those that attacked Pearl.”

  “My staff has told me differently. So, you can’t get over the assault on her, and you overheard a private conversation, and now you do not trust her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Bill, she is the most effective pilot we have. I suggest you figure out how to trust her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  LCDR HUNT’S OFFICE, USS CARL VINSON

  1550, 16 FEBRUARY, 1942

  Sam is standing CDO under instruction in port, so khakis. Everything is in order on board and she finally gets to her mail. She smiles, there’s one from Scott Richardson with his address and a short note. He is busy. It’s good to hear from him. One from Lee with the new promotion procedures and dates for her people. That was sent before he got here. She chuckles and picks up the last letter. It’s from Margaret Hunt, her grandmother.

  Dear Lieutenant Commander Hunt,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I recently received a missive from the Department of the Navy informing me that you had come back from some future time to fight our current war. I must say, I am astounded. No doubt you are aware that my oldest is already doing so. The clarion call of battle rings true in this family.

  We get so little information about the war. We did hear that there was some sort of fight over Tokyo. I must assume you were involved. The letter I recently received assured me that you have had a number of kills. It seems a barbaric practice to count how many one has killed, but I suppose it is what we have come to with this war.

  I am quite concerned, though, that a woman be placed in such a horrible situation. If you wish to come home, we have no shortage of work to be done on the farm and plenty of attractive young men hereabouts, though many, as I am sure you understand, are off fighting.

  If you are determined to stay in the Navy, I understand. Or rather, I’m trying to understand. You look so much like your great grandmother, Melanie. If you are able to visit us, please be assured that you are welcome.

  I wish you well.

  Margaret Hunt

  Smiling, Sam pulls out pen and paper and begins writing. When she is finished, she addresses an envelope, puts the letter in, and sets it aside to be mailed. Then, she looks at her stack of manuals and books for her surface warfare qualification.

  Sam sighs, pulls the next book in the stack, grabs her SWO notebook, and starts studying. There is just so much to learn, damn it.

  IN A TAXI, WOODS STREET, RAAF BASE, RICHMOND

  1552, 17 FEBRUARY, 194
2

  Thud says, “Wow, Spike. They just let us on the base. They hardly looked at our ID at all.”

  Sam smiles, “Group Captain Holmes must have told them we were coming. There were plenty of guards. They take their security seriously here.”

  Gloria says, “They should. We’re at war. What are they like?”

  “They seem nice. I only just talked with them for a bit. His first name is Howard, but it is ‘sir’ until he says otherwise.”

  Swede says, “They wanted to have dinner with us so he could learn more about the jets. The group captain was surprised to meet Spike but seemed to come around quickly. The Governor was an ass.”

  Spike grins, “The governor wasn’t all that bad, Swede. We girls have been dealing with stuff like that our whole lives.”

  “Well, damn it, it’s new to me and it pisses me off.”

  “Thank you, but no fistfights over our honor, ok?”

  They taxi stops, “I believe this is your stop, mates.” The one-story house is painted white with a large overhang on a shallow pitched roof. It seems pretty new. As they get out and pay the cabby, Abigail Holmes comes out in a peach colored summer dress. “Please, come in. Howard will be along shortly. He’s untangling a control cable issue. Would you like a beer?”

  Swede says, “Yes, ma’am. You have a nice place.”

  Sam says, “Abigail, you met my executive officer, Lt. Swedenborg. This is his wingman, Lt. JG Gloria Houlihan. And this is my wingman, Lt. JG Frank Jackson.”

  Abigail puts out her hand, “It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant Swedenborg. Very good to meet you, Lt. Hoolihan, Lt. Jackson. Welcome to our home.” She leads them into the house and hands out beers. “Howard and I have been trying to wrap our head around yank aircraft carriers from the future. So, do tell, do we win in the end?”

  Swede says, “Yep. The allies kick Hitler’s butt and even Japan eventually surrenders. None of it was easy, though.” Thud is walking around looking at the photos on the walls.

  Abigail asks, “When did you come from?”

  Sam replies, “1990. World War II was a distant memory then. The world was relatively peaceful.”

  Thud asks, “What kind of plane are you flying here? It looks like an Avian, but the landing gear is wrong.”

  “It is an Avian. My father’s. He taught me to fly when I was 16. He once made a bad landing and had to rebuild the gear.” Now, everyone is up and looking at the pictures.

  Frank says, “I flew one when I was a kid, too. It was a blast. My first hop, the instructor looped it. After my fourth, she let me loop it. I was walking on clouds for a week.”

  They hear the front door open. “Darling, I’m back. Those blithering idiots in supply ordered 1/8- inch cable…” He walks into the living room and sees them all around the photo, “Oh, hello, my apologies.”

  Swede says, “So, your supply corps is no better than ours. Figures.”

  Sam does the introductions, then Gloria asks Abigail, “How long have you been flying?”

  A quick glance at her husband, “From 16 until I married last year. I even did a couple of shows.”

  Gloria says quietly, “I’d never let a man stop me from flying.”

  Howard overhears, “There comes a time when a woman should be thinking of family. It’s how life works. Besides, with the war on there is no fuel.”

  Abigail says, “I could always join the Yank navy. These gals seem to be doing okay.”

  Thud says, “They are way better than okay. I think it’s wrong to assume that flying aircraft requires a penis.” He stops, turning red. “Sorry, I was saying, my mom is, was, um, I guess will be an amazing pilot.”

  Howard asks, “Your mother was a pilot? What did she fly?”

  Thud says, “Mom owned a Cessna 210. It’s a six-person personal aircraft with…well, it won’t probably exist until the ‘50’s. She also owns a Pitt S-2. She sold her Avian when I was 17. She also flies my dad’s Mustang.”

  Thud has everyone’s attention.

  Howard asks, “Your father let her fly? What is a Mustang?”

  Thud says, “They will probably never exist now, and that is a shame. They were one of the finest fighter planes to come out of World War II. Even better than the Spitfire, which is an excellent aircraft.”

  Howard again, “Your father let her fly?”

  Thud cocks his head, “I don’t know how things are here, but where I’m from in Texas…in Texas, you don’t cage an eagle. My mom was born to fly. So was my dad. It was the one thing besides us kids that bound them together. She stopped barnstorming and started instructing when my sisters and I came along because the show circuit was too hard on us. Dad did three tours in Viet Nam as a navy pilot, and she took care of us and flew all the time. I was probably nursing age on my first flight. If you love your wife and want to keep her, let her fly.”

  Sam says, “Easy, Frank. We’re guests.”

  Thud says to Howard, “Sorry, sir. I guess you hit a sore spot with me.”

  “You wouldn’t let a pregnant woman fly, would you?”

  Gloria says, “Heavens no, if she pulled too many G’s the baby might be premature, and at that age they’re too young to work the peddles.”

  They laugh and Abigail serves more beer. “I think dinner is ready. Shall we?” and leads the way into he dining room. After a wonderful meal, Abigail asks, “Frank, how did your parents meet?”

  “Dad was flying F-4’s for the Screaming Eagles and was assigned to fly in an air show in Waco. He just flew a couple of passes and landed for a static display. The Navy wanted him to show off his North Vietnamese Red Stars. He had two kills. Mom rocked the air show in her Avian. After she landed, her taxi path took her by him and his bird. He blew her a kiss. She caught it and blew it back. Love and airplanes.”

  Gloria asks, “Thud, were you conceived in an airplane?”

  Thud blushes heavily and Abigail laughs, “Gloria Hoolihan, I would think your jealous.”

  She says, “Yep, I am.”

  BLACK KNIGHTS CO’S OFFICE

  0915, 18 February, 1942

  Samantha is reading a letter from Shawn:

  Dear Samantha,

  Well, I did it. I bought the farm. It isn’t much of a place, but it’s away from my work and the frantic activity that’s going on 24/7. They have me preparing the maintenance facilities for you guys out at sea. That’s about all I can say. So, I took what money I had when we came back and what was left of my salary that I had not spent and used it as a down payment on this little 30-acre coastal farm in Gorst, Washington. It’s located a few miles west of Bremerton and Port Orchard at the tip of the Sinclair Inlet.

  I’ve been thinking of you a lot, and I was wondering, as I recall, you brought some money back, too. While you’re out at sea you can’t do anything with it, but if you had some way of getting it to me, I would be willing to invest it for you. I’m working with a boat builder to make something like a LCAC. I think it would be a good investment. Of course, I would put your money wherever you think is best. I would keep your investments separate from mine, because I know that’s important. But, I’d watch over them as if they were my own.

  I very much hope all is well. Unfortunately, in my current position with lowly lieutenant bars on my collar, nobody tells me anything. Not my brief, anyway. I know wherever you are, you are kicking ass.

  Your friend,

  Shawn

  She smiles and pulls out pen and paper to reply. In her safe she has a little over $3,000, and she saw a Western Union in town.

  CONSTITUTION AVENUE, WASHINGTON, D.C.

  1400 local time, 19 FEBRUARY, 1942

  Admiral King walks out of the Navy building as a car splashes through slush to the curb. Getting in, he says, “Mr. President.” Franklin Delano Roosevelt waves his cigar at him and smiles, “Admiral, why hasn’t the Carl Vinson battle group left Sydney?”

  “They’re almost done, sir. The Fife has been delayed. The wiring of the bridge is proving to be a pr
oblem. It seems getting 1942 machines to communicate with 1990 machines is a challenge. Otherwise, the bridge is done and the equipment landed.”

  “Can the repairs be completed at sea? Winston is getting impatient?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll see to it.”

  “Good, let’s get the other squadron, the blue somethings, to their place in North Australia. I’m told the runway is complete.”

  “It is, sir, but there are no facilities to speak of yet. The barracks, and such, are not done.”

  “Issue tents. We make do.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Send Admiral Lee from Australia to Britain. We must get this correct.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is the submarine making its way to the Atlantic?”

  “Yes, sir. It will pull in at Groton, Connecticut, for supplies, then start hunting U-boats.”

  “Good. Why is it, do you know, that they assume a submarine is the best tool to destroy other submarines?”

  “I’m told, it’s the nature of sound, Mr. President. Sir, if I may say so, it was quite brilliant of Admiral Ren to keep knowledge of the submarine to so few.”

  “I agree. One last thing, Admiral. Those special devices. Winston wants one in England, and I quite agree.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Next Saturday, you and your wife come out to the house for dinner. You need to take a break.”

  “Yes, sir. It would be an honor.”

  “Ah, bullshit, Admiral, it will be dinner. But you could use a rest. That is all.”

  USS CARL VINSON FLIGHT DECK, LEAVING SYDNEY HARBOR

  1500, 25 February, 1942

  Sam, having been relieved from OOD, walks out onto the flight deck as the order comes to secure from manning the rails. She joins her squadron as the Vinson comes abreast of the headlands and starts to move in the swell. Turning to AOCS Bond, “I’m going to miss Sydney, Fluffy.” She looks over their aircraft, “We need to get the crew’s heads back in the game.”