Fighting Her Father's War: The FIghting Tomcats

by M. L. Maki

  Chief Fronzac pins Meat to the floor, “If you can’t respect your elders, you’re gonna respect your betters.” To Sam he says, “Ma’am, if you or any of the other ladies want self-defense training, I want to start a class.”

  “I started learning Aikido in college. Do you know it?”

  Issa says, “Chief knows them all. Anything in a Gi.”

  “I’ll think on it and ask around.” Then to Issa, “You know, Lieutenant, right now the Japanese are invading the Philippines, Britain is being bombed, and the US has just started a two-front war.” She looks him in the eyes, “My dad was a Marine on Guadalcanal.”

  “My grandpa is fighting the Germans with the British in Arabia, I understand. Come down for coffee and entertainment any time, Lieutenant.”

  Laughing, Sam says, “Definitely for the entertainment.”

  As she gets to the door, Meat finally says, “Okay, okay, Chief, I give.”

  CHAPTER 15

  HANGAR BAY 3, 1410, 21 DECEMBER, 1941

  Lt. Hunt’s power plant and air frame division are busy installing a repaired engine on Bureau number 467 when she joins them in hangar bay 3. “Hey, LT, wanna get your hands dirty?” asks AD1 Robert ‘Bobby’ Gellar.

  “You bet. What are we working on?”

  “Just swapping out a re-furb. We are about thirty hours early, but it looks like things might get busy.”

  “Always good to be ahead on maintenance,” and stooping over, gets inside the engine bay of the F-14. With the lower engine cover hinged out of the way, there is plenty of room for most jobs. There are always those jobs, however, that require long arms and deft fingers. Standing up inside the bay, she sees ADAN Louis ‘Deep Fried’ Siemens struggling with the Amphenol; the plug connector which sends the engine instrumentation signals for engine status and commands from the throttle. “Deep Fried, how are you doing?”

  “Okay ma’am, am I doing it right?”

  “I’m sure you are. Let me see.” She reaches in and traces the wire bundle, “Okay, you got it. It needs to attach here,” and clicks the wire onto the hanger.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You are doing well, Deep Fried. Are you ready to plug it in, Bobby?”

  “Just a sec., LT. We’re almost done with the mount.” His tongue slides back and forth out of his mouth as he reaches in to lock the forward ball mount into place. The powerful GE engine transmits its force to the aircraft with just one ball joint. The makeup of this joint is critical. It transmits all 27,000 lbs. of force from the engine to the airframe. A ball joint failure is catastrophic. “Go ahead, LT.”

  She reaches up between the engine and the airframe to plug the aircraft Amphenol to the engine. As she feels the click of the plug locking into place, she hears MM1 Hughes say, “Uh, Lieutenant Hunt, Captain Klindt wants the brain trust to muster in the RT classroom in about 10 minutes.”

  AD1 Gellar can see the TLD (radiation dosimeter) on the nuke mechanic’s belt, “Hey, glow worm, back off on the aircraft. You might cross contaminate it with your zoomies.”

  “Shove it, wing wiper. I’m too busy to kick your ass right now.”

  Sam makes sure the connection is secure with a couple of tugs and climbs out from underneath the plane, “Gentlemen, really? Ten minutes, MM1.” He nods, “Okay, gives me time to clean up. The Amphenol is connected and checked. You got it, Gellar?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Why you hanging out with nukes? It’s like slumming or something.”

  She grins, “It’s an officer thing. You wouldn’t understand, Bobby.”

  RT CLASSROOM

  The brain trust is all in their seats, waiting for Klindt. Senior Chief Richardson has a stack of books in front of him. As thy sit down, Hughes says to Sam, “You know, that first class of yours was acting like he’s in need of a calibration, ma’am. I have that PQS signed off and would be glad to help out.”

  “What do mean, Hughes?”

  “Well, ma’am, I have completed the ‘Kick Ass Instructor’ PQS, and I’m willing to adjust his attitude down to a more reasonable and respectful level.”

  She chuckles, “Hughes, get over yourself.”

  Mohr asks, “Where did you get your ‘Kick Ass Instruction’? Was it formal, or on the job?”

  Surprised, Hughes says, “OTJ of the best kind.”

  “Okay, I received mine from Okinawan Kenpo and Kobudo,” affecting and Asian accent, “Your path is slow because your head is thick, Grasshopper.”

  Everybody is laughing as Klindt walks in and Warren says, “Attention on deck.”

  They all stand up, still laughing. “Carry on, and what did I miss?” asks Klindt.

  Mohr says, “I was just explaining to Hughes the intricacies of true ‘Kick Ass Fu’ mastery.”

  “Well, I’m glad we’re starting out on a light note. Admiral Ren, Captain Johnson, and Captain Lee will be down to talk to us in a bit.”

  The laughter dies, “What about, sir?” asks Warren.

  Klindt turns to Richardson, “Have you learned anything from those books?”

  “Yes, sir, the Japanese are invading the Philippines, as we speak. They hit Lingayen Gulf tomorrow morning. They will be attacking Lamon Bar in a couple of days.”

  “Okay, let’s find out where Lingayen and Lamon are. I brought down some maps. Denton, Barr, please set them up over the white board.”

  Sam asks, “What books do you have for reference, Senior?”

  “I have Empires in the Balance: Japanese and Allied Pacific Strategies to April 1942; Japan at War: Illustrated History of War in the Far East 1931 – 1945; The Rising Sun in the Pacific, 1931- 1942; and Admiral Halsey’s Story: Politics and Strategy of WWII. I’m looking for Japanese Aircraft of the Pacific, but it is checked out to a Frank Jackson. Anyone heard of him?”

  “He’s my wingman, and I think he’s almost memorized it,” says Sam.

  “Can you get it from him?” asks Richardson.

  “Sure, but you know, the truth is he should be here. He knows more technical stuff about WWII than anyone. He practically eats it for breakfast.”

  “Call him,” says Klindt, “I’ll let the CAG and Captain know when they get here.”

  Sam goes to the phone and calls Thud at his division office, squadron QA. As she hangs up, CDR Holtz walks into the classroom and motions to Hunt to come with him.

  Klindt asks, “Can I help you, Commander?”

  “No sir, I need my lieutenant doing the work she is supposed to be doing, that’s all.”

  Sam freezes, stunned, as Klindt asks, “Your name, sir?”

  “Commander Holtz, Captain. I’m her squadron commander.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Commander Holtz. I’m Captain Klindt, the Reactor Officer. Commander she is right where I, Captain Johnson, and Admiral Ren need her to be. What do you need that trumps all of us?”

  “I’m sure it’s of no concern to you, Captain.”

  “It is very much of concern to me, sir, and my team here has much to do, so, please, Commander, say your piece so we can move forward.”

  “Why do you even need her? She isn’t anything special. I have a dozen pilots her equal. She’s competent in a plane, sure, but Einstein she isn’t”

  Sam stand frozen, wishing she could disappear. Hughes tugs her sleeves and whispers, “You have to work for that asshole?”

  Klindt says, “Commander, you are out of line, sir. Perhaps, we should step outside.”

  Holtz nods, “Okay, fair enough.”

  Klindt walks across the small hallway to the Reactor Training Division office, opens the door, and invites Holtz in. To the petty officers in the office, he says, “Gentlemen, could you give me a moment?”

  “Yes, sir,” and leave.

  Klindt spins a chair around and sits, motioning to Holtz to do so as well, “Okay, Holtz, I am going to make this succinct. Hunt is a diamond. She is an excellent officer with a good attitude. Why are you trying to turn her into coal?”

  “I take it you have drunk the women
in combatant roles kool aid?”

  “Are you stupid, Holtz. It is 1941. Where are we going to get qualified male pilots, and male nukes, and male flight deck personnel to replace the women we have now. How I feel about it is irrelevant, though, I believe it is working out pretty well. The problems come from dinosaurs like you, not from the women.”

  “When the 1941 Navy and congress finds out we have women serving in combatant roles, they are going to have a cow.”

  “Holtz, women flew aircraft in WWII. They built ships, aircraft, and guns. They were nurses on the front lines. Just like our conversation right now, the problem was not the women, it was the shallow men who had to degrade and diminish women in order to think better of themselves. Are you that kind of bully, Holtz? Are you the kind of guy who will demean or harm Lt. Hunt so you can feel superior to her?”

  “No, no, I just…I don’t want her to believe she is better than she is. Overconfidence can kill.”

  “Yes. Overconfidence can kill careers, too. I will be briefing Admiral Ren, Captain Johnson, and Captain Lee in about five minutes. What should I tell them about you?”

  Panic rising in his voice, he says, “Um, uh, can we work this out? It isn’t personal. I have treated her fairly and will continue to do so. Okay?”

  “She continues to work with my brain trust. I receive a whisper about the most minor mistreatment of her, or any other woman under your command, I will consider it very personal. I am watching, Commander. We need every pilot we have, but we do not need every leader we have. Am I clear, Commander?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Okay, get out of here. I have work to do.”

  As Holtz climbs up the stairs to the second deck, he sees Captain Lee approach and wait for him. “What are you doing here, Papa?”

  The Admiral and Captain Johnson come up behind Lee, and Holtz says, “Um, just had a quick word with, um, the Captain. Excuse me,” and walks away.

  The three officers walk into the classroom and Warren says, “Attention on deck,” and they all stand.

  Sitting down, Ren says, “Carry on. The reason I called you together was to figure out what happened to us. You have done that very well, and I thank each of you for your work. Now, our battle group is moving to help the men defending the Philippines. Our Ops crew will plan the attack. What we need from you is an idea of where the enemy is, what their order of battle is, and how well their weapons function.

  “There are a lot of sticky questions. Should we communicate with the American forces in the Philippines? If we do, how should we do so without tipping our hand? We also need to think about what to do next? How should we report to Admiral Nimitz? I need to the fight the enemy in front of me, but I want to be at least one step ahead. That is where you come in.”

  Klindt says, “Okay, guys, let’s brief him first on what we face in the Philippines. Chief Richardson.”

  “Yes, sir. Admiral, Captains, the Japanese are invading the Philippines starting tomorrow morning at Lingayen Gulf, near the north end of Luzon,” pointing at the map. “They will be attacking Lamon Bay in two days right here. They have the aircraft carrier Ryujo, which is one of their smaller ones. They also have carrier division 3, but the only carriers I found in that division are for seaplanes. There may be another bird farm in that group, but if so, it is a small one. I have accounted for all the others. They have five heavy cruisers, five light cruisers, and twenty-nine destroyers, with some smaller or tender type ships. Most of the aircraft involved are flying from Taiwan, in this time called Formosa. There’ll be aircraft from air fields captured in the south. A total of approximately six hundred planes. The Navy fighter is the Zero. The Army fighter is the Nate. Lt. JG Jackson will be better for briefing about the aircraft. Lieutenant?”

  Thud stands up, and says from memory, “The A6M Zero was a very good fighter in its day. Top speed of about 300 knots and a range of sixteen hundred miles, but it climbed slowly, even for the day. You don’t want ever to get into a turning fight with the Zero. They carry two 20mm and two .30 caliber machine guns, so they definitely can bite. They are fragile, though. The Japanese didn’t much consider pilot safety, which cost them dear toward the end of the war. The Nate was in most ways an inferior plane. Slower, at 270 knots, and not able to turn as tightly, but it is simple to operate and maintain. It didn’t even have retracting landing gear. It had a way shorter range of 680 miles and its guns were two .30 caliber. Its climb rate was a bit better than the Zero’s, but only marginally. Not nearly as effective, still flying as slow as they will be, they will be able to easily turn inside us.

  “The Japanese have a number of bombers. All are twin engine, and as fast as their fighters. The fastest was the Sally, at nearly 300 knots. One thing to keep in mind about the bombers, though, is they have rear facing guns. Something we are not used to facing. Also, all of them are capable of operating off airfields way worse than what we can.”

  Johnson asks, “Can we use sidewinders against them?”

  “I don’t know, sir. A sidewinder can track a C-2 easy enough, but the C-2 still has a turbine engine. With a piston engine it’s doubtful. I would load AIM-7s and plenty of gun ammo. Using guns, we’ll have to slash and dash, sir.”

  Ren asks, “Slash and dash? I was an E-2C pilot.”

  “Yes, sir. Fly through the formation quickly, taking shots as you can, without getting on their six.”

  Ren then asks, “How many troops do they have on the ground?”

  Richardson says, “About 130,000, sir, but they will be spread out and some are in reserve on the ships. We think there will be about 40,000 to 50,000 at Lingayen Gulf. That would probably be the most bang for the buck, sir.”

  “Are we going to focus on troops, aircraft, or ships, sir?” asks Warren.

  “Corregidor,” says Hunt.

  “Yeah, the last stand, then the Bataan Death March,” says Hughes.

  Ren says, “You’re right. I’d like to sink flat tops, but you’re right. Saving men is the priority. This is why this group is valuable. Okay, I will get the strike folks moving that way. Can you put this information in writing for them?”

  “I’m already on it, sir,” says Hughes, “I’m the clerk.”

  Johnson asks, “Do we contact the American forces?”

  Mohr says, “We have to. They will have planes in the air. We don’t want blue on blue.”

  “We should be able to sort out the American planes,” says Lee.

  “Yes, sir,” says Mohr, “but what about them shooting at us?”

  “Exactly,” says Hunt, “We’ll need their frequencies. Do you think you can find their frequencies, Denton?”

  “Yeah, sure, I’m pretty sure I already know them. What I can’t do is break their encryption. We’ll have to transmit in the clear.”

  “Richardson, so you have anything in that lovely stack of books?” asks Hunt.

  “No, ma’am. That would be in my other pile of books. I did find a couple on WWII encryptions, but I haven’t had time to go through them yet.”

  “Chief, each to his expertise, cough ‘em up,” says Barr.

  “Okay, whether in the clear or encrypted, they cannot be expecting us. What do we say?” asks Ren.

  “Call ourselves Rogue squadron, sir, and the Japanese carrier the Death Star 1,” says Mohr.

  “Anachronism, Mohr, anachronism, it needs to be something in their cultural reference,” says Hunt.

  “Buck Rogers?” says Warren.

  “Superman?” suggests Denton.

  “Batman?” says Barr.

  “Mickey Mouse?” suggests Mohr, “It makes a sort of sense.”

  Through the laughter, Ren says, “I just can’t see debriefing Admiral Nimitz about the movements of the Mickey Mouse Patrol.”

  Hunt says, “We’re the Gold Eagle, why not just use that.”

  Ren says, “I can’t see why not.”

  “They are going to see us, sir,” says Hunt. “Our existence will get out.”

  Klindt a
dds, “That makes things easier when we brief in Admiral Nimitz.”

  Ren says, “Gold Eagle it is. We contact them in the clear, or encrypted, if we’ve broken the code. We make contact by radio the first American air unit meets ours. Hopefully, it will be at or after zero hour to protect the surprise. We hit the Japanese hard, with a focus on transports and troops on the ground, after that we take out the ships as we can. The call sign for sinking the flat top will be Death Star Down. The crew will like that.

  “After this attack, we head to Hawaii by way of Wake island, where we will hit their naval units, if we can. We’ll be needing fuel. Start thinking on how we should report to Nimitz. I don’t want anyone shot, stabbed, or court martialed. Thank you all.” He stands, and when they also stand, he shakes everyone’s hand and leaves.

  On the 1MC, “Commence propulsion plant drills.”

  Klindt says, “I need to go, they are playing my tune.”

  CHAPTER 16

  CAPTAIN LEE’S OFFICE, 03 LEVEL, STARBOARD SIDE, 1800, 21 DECEMBER, 1941

  CDR Holtz knocks, and enters when he hears Captain Lee say, “Enter.” Lee looks up as Holtz walks up and stands at attention. “At ease, Commander, sit down, coffee, cookie?”

  “Yes, sir,” and sits down.

  “As I recall, sugar, no cream,” and hands him a cup with an oatmeal cookie.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “We’re in private, Jim. What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, sir, I was wondering, what is the deal between you and Lt. Hunt.”

  “It’s really none of your business, Jim. We are not having, nor have we ever had an affair, it that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I know that, she was clear on that. It’s just you and I have served together a long time, and I just don’t get it.”

  “So, you asked her?”

  “Well, sir, in truth, I about demanded it. She didn’t say anything except to ask you, so I’m asking.”

  Lee pours himself another cup of coffee, “Jim, when we are in private, call me Rick. We’re old shipmates.”

  “Yes, sir…Rick. The thing is, you of all people should know I don’t believe women belong in the cockpit of an airplane, or hell, for that matter, anywhere in the military. They just take up a slot better taken by a man. I thought you felt the same, but you don’t. Not with her, anyway. It’s even rumored that, well, that you and Hunt spent some time together and that you put in a letter recommending her for jets. I know you well enough, and from her reaction, I know it’s not romantic, but Rick, what’s going on?”