The Type 91 was a formidable weapon, having moved through several evolutions in its development to make it a reliable workhorse for the B5N squadrons. They had put three into the USS Lexington three months ago, sending that carrier to the bottom of the Coral Sea. Now they were ready for more. The growl of the planes was exhilarating as they swooped to their low elevation approaches, deploying air brakes to slow the planes down to no more than 160-180kph so they could safely launch their weapons.
What was Hayashi talking about? Matsua could see the dark silhouette of the ship ahead now, perhaps 15,000, meters out, and there was no sign of these serpents rising up to devour his planes, nor any wisp of flak from the target ahead. But he would soon find out what Hayashi meant by a rain of metal, for the low and relatively slow approach of his torpedo bombers were the easiest possible target for Kirov’s lethal close in defense systems.
* * *
“Steady, Samsonov,” Karpov whispered. “Any second now.”
They were tensely watching the approach of Matsua’s planes, having seen them on radar long ago. It was Karpov’s first reflex to immediately engage them with the Klinok medium range SAMs at that time, but there were only twelve discrete targets, and he thought he might save those missiles with another tactic. Karpov looked over his shoulder to find their resident historian.
“Fedorov, you say these planes must get inside 2000 meters to make an effective attack?”
“That’s right, and if they can get inside 1500 meters they’ll be even happier.”
“Then I have a proposal to make, but it will take cool heads and more than a little nerve.” He turned to Admiral Volsky now, knowing the final decision would lie with him. “We’ve been debating whether or not to strike the carriers before they launched this attack, but now that is a moot discussion. They are coming for us. The only question now is whether or not we should expend our primary SAM munitions and take them out at long range.”
“Both the Klinok system and the S-300s are running low,” said Volsky. “We have enough in either weapon system to stop this attack, but it will may take twelve missiles to do so.”
“I have another option,” said Karpov. “We can simply hold fire and use the close in defense guns. The AK-760s can range out to 4000 meters. That’s twice the firing range of those planes. We have two on each side of the ship, and we can add in the Chestnuts I used against those dive bombers.” He was referring to the Kashtan ‘Chestnut’ gun system, with its twin Gatling guns thrown into the mix.
“We took out those Italian torpedo bombers easily enough in the Tyrrhenian sea. This should be no different. It will mean we allow them to come in close, but I have no doubt that we can hit these planes before they do us harm.”
“Yet if they get their torpedoes in the water,” said Volsky. “What then? We can dodge one or two by maneuvering the ship, but not twelve.”
“The Captain may be right,” Fedorov put in. “We can hit them well before they enter firing range, but it’s a very brief firing window. One or two bursts should be enough to drop one of these planes. The guns have the accuracy and rate of fire to do the job—at least from what I’ve seen,”
“We can hit anything we target,” Karpov assured him. “That’s the critical difference eighty years of weapons development has made. A single burst can put hundreds of 30mm rounds on a single plane. What we target, we kill. Period. We’ll use both laser and radar tracking for pin-point accuracy.”
“And one more thing,” said Fedorov. “These are Japanese pilots. They will not break formation and scatter when we hit them like the Italian SM-79s did earlier. Shock or no shock, this is the cream of their naval aviation at this point in the war. They will come straight in on their attack runs, unwavering, just as they have trained, and we’re going to have to kill each and every one.”
They sat with that for a moment, a heaviness in the air. As they realized what they were going to do, ambushing an enemy that would have no idea what was going to hit them. It was a feeling that had lodged in the hearts of many other warriors, on both land and sea, while they sat behind their weapons waiting for an enemy to charge, knowing the bravery it took, knowing the fear their foe must feel and yet overcome, knowing they had to kill him.
Or be killed…
And so now they waited, and it was indeed taking cool heads and a lot of nerve as Karpov had warned. The sight of those torpedo planes swooping in with their blue wings glinting in the sunlight was somewhat awesome, and every eye on the bridge was watching out the view screens of the citadel. Admiral Volsky was sitting stiffly in his chair, waiting. The drone of the distant engines increased, and he turned slowly to Karpov, a sadness in his eyes.
“Mister Karpov,” he said quietly. “Kill those planes.”
“Sir…” Karpov turned quickly to Samsonov and nodded his head. “Fire at 4000 meters.”
* * *
Matsua saw the first bright muzzle flashes spit fire from the side of the ship. So few guns, he thought, remembering the gunnery trials for the battleship Yamato against simulated torpedo attacks. That ship could literally blacken the sky with its flak guns, but this—”
Then he saw Lieutenant Tomashita’s plane erupt in flame to his left, and felt the rattle of metal strike his own plane. He grabbed the stick, tensely trying to steady his approach. Yet as he looked left and right he gasped to see one plane after another being torn apart by lethal fire, the hot tracers coming out at them as if they had eyes. Every stream of fire found one of his planes, and the heavy rounds were grinding them to pieces—wings shredded, torpedoes blasted from beneath torn fuselages and spinning wildly into the sea, canopies shattered and engines ripped into mutilated fragments, so deadly was the fire.
Now he knew what Hayashi had experienced, and what he was trying to describe to him…and why he had chosen to part with the formal farewell of sayonara.
But Matsua remembered his promise, and knew he would not die without first firing his weapon. He screamed at the enemy ship, firing his wing mounted machineguns even if it seemed a feeble and fruitless reprisal. He was almost there. The visual rangefinder in his pilot’s head told him he was crossing 2000 meters, and so with one final yell he pulled his torpedo release, even as a stream of bright red and yellow rounds found his plane and shook it with terrible rending impact.
Hayashi’s face…his face…his eyes when he spoke that last word!
Sayonara…
* * *
Aboard Shokaku Admiral Hara was waiting for reports on the air strikes, expecting good news at any moment. His radio officer, Onoshi, rushed in, jubilant as he reported that the Darwin attack had been a great success.
“Flight leaders report good hits. A destroyer was sunk in the port along with two other cargo ships trying to leave the harbor. Enemy gun positions on the coast were given a real pounding. Yamashita’s men will have no problem getting ashore, particularly after Iwabuchi’s force finishes the initial bombardment.”
Hara seemed thoughtful. “Casualties?”
“Only two planes reporting light damage, sir. The enemy was clearly unprepared.”
“What about the cruiser?”
“Sir?”
“The cruiser that gave Sakamoto’s planes so much trouble. Didn’t you hear Hayashi’s report?”
“I’m sorry, sir. We have no news from Lieutenant Matsua as yet.”
“He should be on his way back by now.” Hara was not happy at the silence from his torpedo planes. It had a tinge of foreboding in it, and he was glad he had signaled Iwabuchi on Yamashiro to alter his course and look for this cruiser before he went in to complete his preliminary bombardment at Darwin.
“Let me know the moment you hear from Matsua. And signal the screening force. They must have some news, neh? Why is everyone so tight lipped?”
“At once, sir,” said Onoshi, heading for the radio room.
No news was never good news, thought Hara. This cruiser had been a stone in his shoe from the moment Sakamoto’s planes first s
ighted it. It would be another hour before he recovered all the planes he had out on strikes at the moment. He still had plenty of strike capability aboard, eighteen more torpedo bombers on Zuikaku and another eighteen on his own ship. There was no point spotting them on deck now with an inbound recovery operation imminent to bring all the dive bombers home. He would wait and see what the reports from Matsua and Iwabuchi revealed, but he was not happy.
“A very simple operation,” he said under his breath. That was what he had told Yamamoto, but the simplest things have a habit of spinning off in wild directions during combat. Nothing was ever certain. The calm seas ahead were deceptive, he knew. One should always keep an eye over his shoulder.
He turned and look there to see the storm front that had been following them building on the horizon. He would probably recover all his planes before the winds came up. Then he could run before the storm, his mission plan still sending him southeast towards Darwin.
A very simple operation…
* * *
Aboard Battleship Kirishima spotters from the high pagoda could see something ongoing to their south, and hear a faint rumble of gunfire. They sent the report down, and Iwabuchi was quick to contact his floatplane to have them investigate.
Fifteen minutes later Lt. Murajima was up in his F1M2 Floatplane, called “Pete” by the Allies during the war. Kirishima carried two on its aft deck for local area search operations exactly like this one. Apparently the torpedo bombers off Zuiho had found a battle to the south, but there had been no details. Cruising at 5000 feet he could see over 80 miles in a every direction before the horizon blocked his view, a pair of good, experienced human eyes standing in for the lack of long range radar.
Just ahead of him he could see the three fast ships of Cruiser Division Five spread out in a wide fan. South there seemed a smudge of gray against the blue sky near the ocean, and he turned to investigate. A few minutes later he found what he was looking for, peering through a pair of binoculars to get a better look. He was on the radio immediately, sending only his name and a coded phrase indicating ‘ship sighted’ and the approximate position speed and heading relative to his own position. He sent one more code: ‘shadowing.’ And then decided it best to gain a little more altitude.
Within ten minutes he smiled to see the cruisers effect a wide turn to starboard, coming around to assume an intercept heading on the contact. Then he saw something in the sky ahead, another aircraft which he first took to be a straggling plane returning from the Darwin mission, yet when he looked through his binoculars he could not make out what it was, moving low and slow, and with no apparent wings! He was going to have a ring-side seat to a most dramatic event.
* * *
On the bridge of Kirov Rodenko was now receiving good data from the KA-40 and fine tuning his contact reports to feed the information to both the navigation station and the CIC. The KA-40 had been aloft for some time, and was now on the backward leg of its search pattern, but the telemetry it had been sending, along with HD video footage, was enough to finally paint the picture of what was happening around them.
Fedorov was analyzing the data, reviewing the video footage and looking up references from his books and other materials at navigation while he plotted positions on a digital map. He sat with a perplexed look on his face, as nothing seemed to make sense. When Nikolin reported that he now had clear radio reception and could pull in shortwave signals, they were able to finally establish the date as August 25, 1942.
“We must have lost all the days we sailed from St. Helena to this point,” said Fedorov. “In fact, I think we may have started shifting into this time as early as yesterday. I could feel something was wrong. This is most unusual,” he said as the briefing began.
“That is an understatement, indeed,” said Karpov. “I’m still trying to shake myself awake every time I realize we have been shooting at planes that went out of existence eighty years ago.”
“We may have more yet to come,” Fedorov warned. “The KA-40 has located the Kido Butai for this operation, the main mobile carrier group. It was able to get a little long range HD video footage but was wary of enemy combat air patrols over the target and turned east. It was enough. I studied the footage very closely, and I am certain that a force comprised of the carriers Zuikaku and Shokaku, escorted by another light carrier and the heavy cruiser Tone with five destroyers is here—” He pointed to his navigation Plexiglas board, and then fed the signal to the overhead HD monitor as well.
“The carriers are northwest of our position now, about 175 kilometers out. That is very close considering the combat radius of their aircraft. We are still well within their strike zone.”
“I have already given my opinion on how we should handle the matter,” said Karpov. “Two missiles would be enough to disrupt any further operations against us.”
Admiral Volsky listened, nodding, but saying nothing for a moment. Then he asked about the overall picture painted by the data.
“There appears to be a major operation underway against Darwin,” said Fedorov. “Only it is completely a-historical. It should not be happening. It never did happen, particularly on this date. All the action should be in the Solomons now, at Guadalcanal. But from what I’ve been able to piece together, I believe ‘Operation FS’ is now underway, or some variation of that plan.”
“Operation FS?” Volsky wanted more information.
“It was a plan to isolate Australia by continuing the drive south through the Solomons with the aim of striking New Caledonia, and eventually Fiji and Samoa. Hence the initials F and S for those islands. This attack on Darwin must be a part of the overall plan. It was debated in early 1942, largely opposed by the Japanese Army, and then eventually discarded for the Midway operation. But if it is underway now then I can only conclude that Midway was never fought—or if it was fought, then the Japanese fleet must have been victorious.”
“They were supposed to lose four carriers in that operation, Yes?” asked Volsky.
“Correct, sir,” Fedorov continued. “Yet if they IJN has the capability to launch an operation of this scale and scope, they must have sufficient carrier forces in theater. This bit we’ve sailed into is the sideshow. It was never part of the original FS plan, at least not formally, but it has apparently been added. With two fleet carriers here, then the Japanese must still have their other main carrier divisions intact in the Solomons for the drive south. They could never successfully move troops without strong air cover. As for Zuikaku and Shokaku, they should not be here either. They should be east in the Solomons this month, supporting operations near Guadalcanal. In fact, they were supposed to be dueling with the American carriers Enterprise and Saratoga on Aug 24-25 of this year… but that was only because the other four fleet carriers were lost at Midway. I suppose if that battle was not fought their presence here makes a great deal of sense.”
“I think we can safely say that these facts you refer to are no longer viable,” said Karpov.
Fedorov shrugged, a sullen expression on his face. “I’m afraid I will have to agree, Captain. What we are looking at here is a complete restructuring of the history of the war in the Pacific. Nikolin has been very busy the last two hours. The radio intercepts he has from Allied sources clearly indicate that Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea is also Japanese controlled, which means that Coral Sea was a Japanese victory, or perhaps never even fought. This is a radical deviation from the history we know, and we are right in the middle of a very well stirred bowl of soup now.”
“Yet you say this is 1942,” said Volsky. “What happened to this interval business you were talking about earlier? We did not move forward this time?”
“It was just a theory, sir. I concluded we might move to 1943 if we shifted again, based on our previous displacements, but Nikolin is convinced that this is 1942, so we have been pulled back into the same year we were in the Mediterranean.”
Volsky laughed. “What will Admiral Tovey think if he gets a report about us now? You s
ay we may have started shifting here yesterday? We vanish at St. Helena on August 23, 1942, and then appear here, thousands of miles away, in just a day’s time? That will befuddle the British if they ever hear about it!”
Fedorov considered that, coming to a startling conclusion, but saying nothing about it for the moment, being more concerned about their immediate situation. Volsky caught the glint in his eye, and a flash of trouble there, though he did not pursue the matter, listening intently as his young first officer continued the briefing.
“Given that the Chronology of the War at Sea is of no further use to us in the broad sense, we can only make our decisions now based on the immediate tactical situation. There are two other contacts to report. One is here, about forty kilometers north of our position, a group of three fast cruisers, and they have now turned south. They will be in range in short order. The second is here, about seventy kilometers north, and vectoring east-southeast on an intercept course. We got very good footage on that group. It is a Kongo class battleship with two destroyers—most likely the Kirishima, as that ship had been operating with these carriers throughout this period.”
“Well if the broad strokes of the history are all wrong now,” said Karpov, “what makes you think these details will hold true?”
“I can’t be certain, of course. You make a valid point, Captain, but I can make educated guesses here based on my general knowledge. Our advantage is no longer as precise as it was, but some patterns in the history do still seem to be holding true, like the composition of the carrier division we spotted. Battleships screening carrier forces would need the speed to keep up with them. The Kongo class ships can run at 30 knots. The same puzzle pieces are here, but they just make a new picture now. Those were the same ships that fought the Battle of the Coral Sea, along with another light carrier. The Japanese still seem to be pairing them up like that as they did in the history we know. I am also very sure about the battleship. There was no mistaking its silhouette, and if it is the Kirishima, it may still be captained by Sanji Iwabuchi, a formidable foe. We would be wise to stay well ahead of that ship.”
Kirov III-Pacific Storm (Kirov Series) Page 9