by James Young
The thirty or so remaining aircraft more than accomplished their task of suppressing defenses. Emerald was the first to suffer, her captain avoiding four bombs only to catch three in rapid succession. The elderly cruiser, laid down in the waning days of World War II, was no more suited for that level of abuse than a grandmother was for a heavyweight boxing match. Each 1,000-lb. bomb was, in effect, a body blow to an already frail frame, with the bridge, then the amidships engineering spaces, and finally the rudder and stern being blasted into ruin. Horribly maimed, with steam and smoke gushing from her midsection, the light cruiser coasted to a stop then began to list.
On the opposite side of the Victorious and Eagle, the heavy cruiser Frobisher was more fortunate than her lighter counterpart. Like Emerald, her captain ably maneuvered the vessel to dodge the first chutai. The second was similarly thwarted despite each Suisei releasing two 500-lb. bombs apiece rather than the heavier half-ton weapons.
It was a sole Shokaku Suisei, pressing in close, that manage to put a pair of 500-lb. bombs on the cruiser’s stern. Catching a burst of 1.1-inch pom poms to the cockpit for his perfidy, the Japanese pilot did not see that only one of his weapons detonated. Still, the blow managed to sever the Frobisher’s rudder controls, sending the heavy cruiser careening in a circle towards the H.M.C.S. Catterick, a destroyer in the screen. Fortunately for both ships, the bridge crew of the latter were alert and managed to get their smaller vessel out of their larger companion’s way.
Lieutenant Commander Maki led the Akagi’s dive bombers down towards the Victorious’s deck. Unlike the unfortunate Shokaku dive bomber who had hit the Frobisher, Lieutenant Commander Maki did not suffer a burst of fire into the canopy. Instead, a bursting shell from the Victorious’s heavy anti-aircraft battery turned his dive bomber into its namesake. Whether by design or due to the chaos inherent of finding oneself in the center of a blazing “comet,” Lieutenant Commander Maki’s attack dive terminated in the center of the Victorious’s flight deck. His two wingmen, realizing their leader’s distress too late, released their weapons too low and had their bombers damaged by their own hits as well as the Victorious’s guns. Slightly less determined, the twelve other dive bombers attacking Vice Admiral Cunningham’s flagship only managed to put one more bomb onto the flight deck and three more close enough to damage Victorious’s hull.
If the Victorious had been an American or Japanese carrier, the damage would have been enough to see her off. Instead, the vessel’s armored flight deck reduced the severity, even as serious fires broke out and crew casualties were immense. With smoke pouring from her flight and hangar decks, the carrier’s bridge crew scanned frantically for the torpedo bombers they knew were approaching through their escorts’ smoke screen.
Eagle was nowhere near as fortunate as her younger, more modern cohort. Built on the hull of an intended battleship, still nursing the repaired wounds suffered during the Dutch East Indies campaign, and less ably handled by her new captain, the Eagle absorbed three 1,000-lb. bomb hits. Unlike Victorious, Eagle’s flight deck was not heavily armored. This did not stop the first weapon from detonating just as it passed the hangar deck roof, causing a massive bulge forward. The next weapon detonated in the forward crew spaces, killing twenty-five men in a damage control party there and starting a roaring fire. The final bomb also started a fierce blaze, this one in the carrier’s stern from the ready ammo for the 6-inch guns.
The remainder of the Japanese dive bombers missed due to a combination of factors. The aircraft had just barely cleared their drops when the Tenzans began the final phases of their runs. The sixteen bombers that targeted the Prince of Wales had their attack disrupted by a late launched Seafire. Piloted by Flying Officer Eric Brown, the British fighter downed the Soryu leader with a quick burst, then caused another torpedo bomber to dip its wing into the ocean before reaching the drop point. With one half of the hammer and anvil attack disrupted, the Prince of Wales was able to narrowly turn to starboard and comb the tracks from that direction.
Unfortunately for the Eagle and Victorious, their large companion’s turn to starboard took her light anti-aircraft battery out of protective range. Despite the valiant effort of the remaining destroyers, there were far too few guns to prevent both flattops getting caught in the classic bracket attack. The carriers’ own anti-aircraft guns made their assailants pay dearly, with the Eagle shooting down three and the Victorious six of their attackers.
In response, both carriers were hit by two of the Sandaburo warheads. Victorious’ first torpedo struck the No. 1 fire room’s forward bulkhead. Whipping the carrier her entire length, the blow killed every man in the compartment as well as knocked many of the crew off their feet. Oil bunkerage fell back onto the already burning hangar deck, adding to the fires there.
The vessel had barely finished whipsawing from the first hit when the second weapon hit just below the carrier’s avgas storage. Although not as instantaneously fatal as such hits had already proven in the war, the torpedo did immediately ignite a massive fire. Now with her aft third fully engulfed, Victorious hove to an immediate stop as her crew set to work attempting to save their vessel.
H.M.C.S. Eagle’s damage was both less and worse than Victorious’. The first torpedo struck her starboard prop shaft, blowing the propeller off the hull. Even as water rushed through the glands around the shaft and into the hull, the second torpedo ripped open the carrier’s No. 2 engine and fire room. The shock from the damage tripped the vessel’s electrical system, and in an instant the Eagle was left in darkness belowdecks and without means to fight the myriad fires visible to her escorts.
With two carriers burning behind them, the battered survivors of the first wave initiated their egress back to the Japanese carriers. Commander Fuchida, making one last circuit with a pair of Shiden, quickly determined that the Victorious and Eagle were no longer a threat. Looking towards the rain squall that Ark Royal and Illustrious had slipped away into, Fuchida made his report back to the Kido Butai. It was clear that the British Far Eastern Fleet would need another strike beyond the one already on its way. The question would be how quickly the Kido Butai could land, refuel, spot, and relaunch it.
Looking behind his fighter, Isoro could saw the columns of smoke that indicated the Kido Butai had landed a strong blow.
But at what cost?
The Kido Butai’s formations were ragged as they staggered back to the rendezvous point. A Kaga Shiden had joined up with him and Petty Officer Takahashi. Warrant Officer Oda remained nowhere to be found, and Isoro was beginning to think the man had perished.
Unless he is very good at navigation, he will not make it back to the carriers alone.
Isoro made one last weave around the rendezvous point, then joined up with the two squadrons’ worth of bombers just starting to stake out their own formations. Although every one of the IJN fighter pilots could navigate, their aircraft lacked the homing radios in their bomber counterparts. The vastness of the Indian Ocean, plus the increasingly poor weather, could kill a lost pilot just as well as a British fighter aircraft.
I’d much prefer that had been the Americans, Isoro thought. The Royal Navy had been Japan’s ally for many years, but their home island’s subjugation by Germany meant they were no longer a major threat to his country. The Americans, on the other hand, were Japan’s mortal enemy.
Better to kill them here, far away from their homes, than fighting them on the way to Japan. However, I have to wonder who is guarding things in the Pacific while we fight the enemy here?
U.S.S. Yorktown
1400 Local (0400 Eastern)
Northern Indian Ocean
9 August
“You know, people are going to start to wonder about any man who lays about next to the island while a war’s on,” Lieutenant Charles Read said, plopping down next to Eric.
Well it’s about time we actually got to see one another, Eric thought, grinning as he extended his hand. Charles took it with a nod, the section leader and his fo
rmer wingman both having a moment to appreciate each other still being alive.
“I think, at this point, it’s just generally accepted I’ve lost my mind,” Eric said, holding up the letter in his left hand. “Especially according to my sister and Jo both.”
“I’m just glad our damn mail finally caught up to us,” Charles replied. “Who knew it would take the slow boat to Australia, then an even slower boat out to get to the ship?”
Eric shrugged, looking out over the ocean.
Makes me wonder if they just waited for enough of it to accumulate before sending it or just realized a lack of contact with what we're fighting for is how mutinies happen. Still missing about three weeks of letters and clearly none of ours have arrived back in Hawaii.
“The powers that be, apparently,” Eric replied. The two of them were momentarily interrupted by Yorktown launching a Bonhomme Richard TBF for anti-submarine patrol. The two men watched as the ungainly looking torpedo bomber rumbled down the flight deck with its three-man crew.
That’s one bad thing about having so large a force: The poor bastards doing sub hunting and other things are having to cover a lot of ground. He looked astern of Yorktown to the large battleship trailing her, then out to her starboard quarter where the U.S.S. Houston also kept station.
At least the surface boys rejoined back up temporarily. I’ll have to tell Jo that I “saw” her father finally.
“Another fine mess we find ourselves in, I have to say,” Charles said after the noise had passed. “I think the Japanese have sent everyone and their brother to conquer Ceylon.”
Going to be one hell of a surprise for those bastards and the British when we show up with two extra carriers.
“Who knew that rubber was that damn important to them?” Eric quipped. “I mean, with all the fuss out this way, it makes you wonder why they even started a fight with us. Pretty sure we would have let them take the Queen’s rubber.”
Charles raised an eyebrow at that.
“I thought the Queen and you were friends,” Charles joked.
“I would never presume to believe in royal friendship,” Eric replied. “The ‘we’ in question was America, however.”
“It does seem like an awful lot of folks President Roosevelt has us brawling with,” Charles said. “Although the British appear to have sent a lot of help our way. More at Hawaii if you read between the lines of Patricia’s letter.”
It’s a little unnerving to talk with someone who knows my sister’s subtle comments that well. Not that I can say anything. His former fiancée had been one of Patricia’s good friends. Eric was surprised to realize Joyce Cotner had not crossed his mind in almost a month.
Maybe there is something to time heals all wounds. Eric mused. Or maybe I’ve just developed a better taste in women. Even if I made a mess of things with the one I want.
“You look lost in your head there for a second, Eric,” Charles said, snapping him back to the present.
“Thinking about how nice it will be to rejoin up with Admiral Cunningham’s force before we go north,” Eric lied easily. “The thought of–”
“Pilots report to the ready room,” the radio crackled. “I say again, all pilots report to their ready room.”
Eric and Charles looked at each other, then heard the shouts and bustle of the Yorktown’s plane crews beginning to grow quite agitated.
Well, that’s not a good sign. Looks like something is going to Hell in a handbasket.
“Gentlemen, approximately one hour ago, the Japanese launched an attack on the British Far Eastern Fleet here.”
Commander Montgomery’s finger rested on a point on the map roughly six hundred miles to Yorktown’s southeast. Yorktown’s CAG had decided to personally brief VB-11 rather than having Lieutenant Commander Brigante do so.
I know the CAG was going to choose one of the squadrons to sit in on. It does seem like he chooses us an awful lot for these sort of things though.
Brigante seemed nonplussed at Montgomery giving the briefing, sitting front and center in the first row.
“The Japanese have hit the Victorious and Eagle along with some other ships,” Montgomery continued. “It is unknown how many Japanese carriers there are, but judging from the reports it would appear that their main striking fleet has come to the south of Ceylon.”
Eric looked at the map, squinting.
“Lieutenant Cobb, you look perplexed,” Commander Montgomery said.
“Sir, the last intelligence report stated that the Japanese fleet carriers were east of Ceylon,” Eric said. “I’m no mathematician, but I don’t think there’s been enough time for them to sail that far south, has there?”
“It would appear that the intelligence reports were incorrect,” Commander Montgomery said. “This thing seems to happen quite often when the Japanese carriers are involved.”
That brought a grim chuckle from several in the room.
“The British have sent a general azimuth the enemy aircraft returned towards, but they have no firm information as to the location of the enemy fleet.”
So our friends could literally just be over the horizon and not expecting us, or about to do to us what they apparently did to the British. That’s just peachy.
“Don’t they have any flying boats in the Maldives?” someone asked, looking at the map.
I'm more concerned we have to pass in that narrow area between the uppermost Maldives and Ceylon.
“The British sent all their flying boats north to Ceylon for reinforcements,” Commander Montgomery stated.
The men looked at him, eyes wide in wonder, until he continued.
“The British gave Vice Admiral Fletcher a copy of their operational plan to better affect combining our fleets.”
Then we went and sank a bunch of other British sailors and smacked around some Italians. On top of that, we refueled yet again, delaying us another day. I can see this discussion in the history books now.
“Are the torpecker pilots going to get any tin fish that work?” someone asked sotto voce.
That drew a baleful glare from Commander Montgomery.
“You gentlemen let me worry about VT-11, thank you very much,” he snapped.
As much as the torpedo idiots go on about theirs is the only sure way to sink a ship rather than just let the air in, it’s a valid question. I don’t envy their job on the best of days, but getting shot down delivering weapons that don’t work has to be a huge problem.
“In any case, VS-11 will be launching within the hour to conduct a search to our east,” Commander Montgomery continued. “We’ll ready a strike just in case they find something.”
Eric looked at the clock on the bulkhead behind Montgomery.
That’s going to be downright interesting. I’m not sure there’s enough time for a search and a strike.
Eric sighed in relief as he realized the Bonhomme Richard was the duty carrier for the day, meaning that no Yorktown aircraft should be stuck possibly poking a Hornet’s nest of Japanese carrier planes.
Then again, if there's a force this far north and one where they'd have to be to hit the British carriers? Well, we might as well all just slit our wrists and jump overboard now.
“If the search finds anything, the plan is to conduct an attack even if it means we have to return in the darkness, gentlemen,” Montgomery said. There was sudden dead silence in the room.
“The last report from the British was dire,” Montgomery said. “They had another strike inbound, and had not fully refueled their surviving CAP from the attack which hit the Victorious and Eagle.”
This news was also greeted with somber silence.
A carrier without her CAP is meat on the table, Eric thought. Makes you wonder how many Japanese flattops are out there. If there’s any consolation, the fact that the British don’t know about Bonhomme Richard and Independence, it means our friends from the Rising Sun won’t know either.
Strangely, the thought didn’t give Eric as much comfort as it might have
before the news. If the British were getting pummeled and carriers were around Ceylon, it didn’t take a strategic genius to see the IJN was indeed taking things seriously.
What in the Hell are the surface boys back and Pearl doing?
“All right gents, I’ll be getting with the squadron leaders after this,” Montgomery said. “They’re serving sandwiches in the wardrooms. I suggest everyone get a meal, as we might be launching before dinner.”
I.J.N.S. Akagi
1800 Local (0830 Eastern)
400 Miles Northeast of Addu Atoll
Indian Ocean
9 August
“Sir, all carriers have have recovered their aircraft,” Rear Admiral Kaku stated.
Vice Admiral Yamaguchi turned to look inside the island, ignoring the drama on the flight deck. The final Akagi aircraft, Commander Fuchida’s Tenzan, had just crash landed after the force’s third strike. The CAG’s aircraft had been damaged in some action.
His survival caps a long, strenuous day. But a victorious one.
Yamaguchi took a moment to smile at his inadvertent pun given the British losses on the day.
We’ll see what Ozawa-san has to say about my ability to manage the Kido Butai next time he sees Admiral Yamamoto.
“Thank you, Rear Admiral Kaku. Compile the results from the other carriers and have the staff prepare to brief me in thirty minutes.”
“Hai, sir,” Kaku said. “Do we need to prepare a plan for strikes on Addu Atoll?”
Yamaguchi smiled at his subordinate’s aggressiveness.
Better to have to rein in a tiger than prod a donkey into battle.
“I think we have done enough for His Majesty in this section of the Indian Ocean. We need to return to Ceylon and the reason we came here before Vice Admiral Ozawa runs out of aircraft.”
Kaku bowed at that, then left the flag bridge.