Small Ship, Big War - The Voyages of the Hibiki
Moderators: wdolson, Don Bowen, mogami
RE: Der Rattenkrieg
Gulp!
Now the Hibiki will have a rep amongst the rat population, The Ship of Death.
Now the Hibiki will have a rep amongst the rat population, The Ship of Death.
Todd
I never thought that doing an AAR would be so time consuming and difficult.
www.matrixgames.com/forums/tm.asp?m=2080768
I never thought that doing an AAR would be so time consuming and difficult.
www.matrixgames.com/forums/tm.asp?m=2080768
RE: Der Rattenkrieg
poor rats 
RE: Der Rattenkrieg
Trick or treat lol
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Der Rattenkrieg
September 15, 1944
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
“Ah, there you are,” says Oizuma. He scoops up Benzaiten and deposits the large snake gently back in her crate. There is a distinct bulge in her middle.
“It looks like she has fed well,” comments Shiro, looking on from his hammock.
“Oh yes. That’s the nice thing about spending so much time in port,” says Oizuma. “In addition to fuel and food and things we also take on a fresh supply of rats.”
Shiro rolls out of his hammock and comes over to look at her. “I had not realized how much she has grown since I built that crate,” he says. “I think it is time for a new one, something much larger.”
“Take up a collection,” says Oizuma. “Half the crew is convinced that as long as Benzaiten is fine nothing bad can happen to this ship. You’d get enough money to build a fine home for her, I am sure.”
“Good idea,” says Shiro. He bends over the crate. “What do you think, Benzaiten, is it time for a new house?” The snake raises its head and looks up at him with her steady, lidless gaze. Her tongue flicks out once and then she lowers her head and stretches out to digest her meal.
“Was that a yes?” asks Shiro.
“More like a command, I’d say,” says Oizuma.
“I’ll get started right away,” says Shiro.
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
“Ah, there you are,” says Oizuma. He scoops up Benzaiten and deposits the large snake gently back in her crate. There is a distinct bulge in her middle.
“It looks like she has fed well,” comments Shiro, looking on from his hammock.
“Oh yes. That’s the nice thing about spending so much time in port,” says Oizuma. “In addition to fuel and food and things we also take on a fresh supply of rats.”
Shiro rolls out of his hammock and comes over to look at her. “I had not realized how much she has grown since I built that crate,” he says. “I think it is time for a new one, something much larger.”
“Take up a collection,” says Oizuma. “Half the crew is convinced that as long as Benzaiten is fine nothing bad can happen to this ship. You’d get enough money to build a fine home for her, I am sure.”
“Good idea,” says Shiro. He bends over the crate. “What do you think, Benzaiten, is it time for a new house?” The snake raises its head and looks up at him with her steady, lidless gaze. Her tongue flicks out once and then she lowers her head and stretches out to digest her meal.
“Was that a yes?” asks Shiro.
“More like a command, I’d say,” says Oizuma.
“I’ll get started right away,” says Shiro.
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Small Ship, Big War
September 16, 1944
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The tiger is back. At least Frank Barnwell thinks it is the same tiger. He knows that he is far enough gone from hunger and illness that his judgment is a little suspect.
One thing he has no doubts about; this time the tiger means business. It is across a small clearing from him and slowly circling to the left, its eyes never leaving his. Barnwell draws his Enfield revolver and holds it in one shaky hand. He figures he can get off one shot if it charges him and wonders if one shot from a pistol can do anything but annoy such an animal.
He would open fire right now except that about half a mile back he had a close brush with a Japanese patrol. They didn’t see him but if he starts shooting he figures he will have more company, and quickly.
“The laddies or the tiger?” Barnwell mutters to himself, then giggles half hysterically. His fever is way up. The tiger halts for a second at the sound and tilts its head to one side, then crouches. This is it, thinks Barnwell. He raises the pistol.
Suddenly the tiger stops. It looks over its shoulder, then flows away noiselessly into the undergrowth. Barnwell stands there puzzled for a moment, unable to grasp his reprieve, and then he hears voices. They are Japanese voices, close by and getting closer. Barnwell staggers back against a tree. He would run but feels too weak.
Across the clearing appear three Japanese soldiers. They level their rifles at him and one barks a command. Barnwell drops the pistol and wearily raises his hands.
Two of the three soldiers stay back to cover him while one advances. He snaps something at the British airman, then grows angry and repeats it. When Barnwell just stares at him blankly the soldier pokes his bayonet into Barnwell’s ribs, hard enough to draw blood.
“Hey!” says Barnwell. “No need for that. I just don’t understand…” The soldier barks something else and pokes him again. Christ, thinks Barnwell, this idiot is going to kill me just because I don’t understand Japanese. A red stain begins to spread slowly across his shirt.
“Flight Sergeant Frank Barnwell, serial number 741599,” he says, speaking slowly and clearly. The Jap just stares at him. It is at this moment that he sees, over the shoulder of his tormentor, arms come out of the jungle behind the two rearmost soldiers. Hands clamp over their mouths and knives flash. The whole thing happens almost soundlessly. Barnwell knows he needs to keep his interrogator’s attention. He lets out a loud groan and slides down against the tree until he is sitting. It isn’t entirely an act. His interrogator looks at him, annoyed, and suddenly he too is muzzled and knifed from behind. As the soldier slides to the ground another soldier is revealed standing behind him, this one wearing the somewhat travel-worn uniform of a Chindit. Barnwell notes somewhat numbly that his savior is a Gurkha as the man matter-of-factly kneels and cleans his kukri on the Japanese soldier’s uniform. In the background Barnwell can see other soldiers fanning out and securing the area.
He turns his gaze to the fallen Japanese soldier. He is very dead, though his eyes are open and blood continues to pour slowly out of the massive cut in his ruined neck. Barnwell shudders. This is a lot bloodier and more up close than the kind of war he is used to fighting.
“What do we have here, then?” speaks a cheerful English voice. A British officer steps into view and looks down at the dead soldier. “Good work, Kulbir,” he tells the Gurkha. He shifts his gaze to Barnwell. “You look like hell, Flight Sergeant Barnwell,” he says judiciously. “We heard you talking to the Jap,” he explains in response to Barnwell’s puzzled look. “Name, rank, and serial number, good show. Can you stand?” He extends a hand and helps Barnwell struggle to his feet. “I’m Major Clifton, by the way,” he says. “Pleased to meet you and all that, but we really should be moving on.”
Barnwell tries a few steps and almost falls. Clifton steadies him with a strong hand and turns to the Gurkha. “Kulbir, tell Sergeant Nichols to rig a litter. Oh, and round up some food for the flight sergeant, will you? Thanks.” A soldier soon hands Barnwell a D-ration bar. It has the consistency and flavor of wood and Barnwell has never eaten anything so delicious.
A medic comes up and looks Barnwell over. He bandages the shallow bayonet wounds and tells Barnwell that he is suffering from both malaria and dysentery. He gives Barnwell some tablets and rigs a saline bag as Barnwell is placed on the litter. Major Clifton tells them that further medical attention will have to wait until they are far from here, then two soldiers pick up the litter and off they go. Clifton’s men fade into the jungle ahead of them as silently as they arrived.
Despite the occasional jostling Barnwell quickly grows very sleepy. His last thought, as he looks up at the underside of the jungle canopy, is to wonder if any of the rest of his crew has been found. Before he can ask, though, he is fast asleep.
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The tiger is back. At least Frank Barnwell thinks it is the same tiger. He knows that he is far enough gone from hunger and illness that his judgment is a little suspect.
One thing he has no doubts about; this time the tiger means business. It is across a small clearing from him and slowly circling to the left, its eyes never leaving his. Barnwell draws his Enfield revolver and holds it in one shaky hand. He figures he can get off one shot if it charges him and wonders if one shot from a pistol can do anything but annoy such an animal.
He would open fire right now except that about half a mile back he had a close brush with a Japanese patrol. They didn’t see him but if he starts shooting he figures he will have more company, and quickly.
“The laddies or the tiger?” Barnwell mutters to himself, then giggles half hysterically. His fever is way up. The tiger halts for a second at the sound and tilts its head to one side, then crouches. This is it, thinks Barnwell. He raises the pistol.
Suddenly the tiger stops. It looks over its shoulder, then flows away noiselessly into the undergrowth. Barnwell stands there puzzled for a moment, unable to grasp his reprieve, and then he hears voices. They are Japanese voices, close by and getting closer. Barnwell staggers back against a tree. He would run but feels too weak.
Across the clearing appear three Japanese soldiers. They level their rifles at him and one barks a command. Barnwell drops the pistol and wearily raises his hands.
Two of the three soldiers stay back to cover him while one advances. He snaps something at the British airman, then grows angry and repeats it. When Barnwell just stares at him blankly the soldier pokes his bayonet into Barnwell’s ribs, hard enough to draw blood.
“Hey!” says Barnwell. “No need for that. I just don’t understand…” The soldier barks something else and pokes him again. Christ, thinks Barnwell, this idiot is going to kill me just because I don’t understand Japanese. A red stain begins to spread slowly across his shirt.
“Flight Sergeant Frank Barnwell, serial number 741599,” he says, speaking slowly and clearly. The Jap just stares at him. It is at this moment that he sees, over the shoulder of his tormentor, arms come out of the jungle behind the two rearmost soldiers. Hands clamp over their mouths and knives flash. The whole thing happens almost soundlessly. Barnwell knows he needs to keep his interrogator’s attention. He lets out a loud groan and slides down against the tree until he is sitting. It isn’t entirely an act. His interrogator looks at him, annoyed, and suddenly he too is muzzled and knifed from behind. As the soldier slides to the ground another soldier is revealed standing behind him, this one wearing the somewhat travel-worn uniform of a Chindit. Barnwell notes somewhat numbly that his savior is a Gurkha as the man matter-of-factly kneels and cleans his kukri on the Japanese soldier’s uniform. In the background Barnwell can see other soldiers fanning out and securing the area.
He turns his gaze to the fallen Japanese soldier. He is very dead, though his eyes are open and blood continues to pour slowly out of the massive cut in his ruined neck. Barnwell shudders. This is a lot bloodier and more up close than the kind of war he is used to fighting.
“What do we have here, then?” speaks a cheerful English voice. A British officer steps into view and looks down at the dead soldier. “Good work, Kulbir,” he tells the Gurkha. He shifts his gaze to Barnwell. “You look like hell, Flight Sergeant Barnwell,” he says judiciously. “We heard you talking to the Jap,” he explains in response to Barnwell’s puzzled look. “Name, rank, and serial number, good show. Can you stand?” He extends a hand and helps Barnwell struggle to his feet. “I’m Major Clifton, by the way,” he says. “Pleased to meet you and all that, but we really should be moving on.”
Barnwell tries a few steps and almost falls. Clifton steadies him with a strong hand and turns to the Gurkha. “Kulbir, tell Sergeant Nichols to rig a litter. Oh, and round up some food for the flight sergeant, will you? Thanks.” A soldier soon hands Barnwell a D-ration bar. It has the consistency and flavor of wood and Barnwell has never eaten anything so delicious.
A medic comes up and looks Barnwell over. He bandages the shallow bayonet wounds and tells Barnwell that he is suffering from both malaria and dysentery. He gives Barnwell some tablets and rigs a saline bag as Barnwell is placed on the litter. Major Clifton tells them that further medical attention will have to wait until they are far from here, then two soldiers pick up the litter and off they go. Clifton’s men fade into the jungle ahead of them as silently as they arrived.
Despite the occasional jostling Barnwell quickly grows very sleepy. His last thought, as he looks up at the underside of the jungle canopy, is to wonder if any of the rest of his crew has been found. Before he can ask, though, he is fast asleep.
RE: Small Ship, Big War
I'm glad to see Franck Barnwell will get out of this mess... for this time. I Like this character.
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Capt. Harlock
- Posts: 5379
- Joined: Sat Sep 15, 2001 8:00 am
- Location: Los Angeles
- Contact:
RE: Small Ship, Big War
“The laddies or the tiger?” Barnwell mutters to himself, then giggles half hysterically
Good/rotten (pick one) pun![:D]
Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?
--Victor Hugo
--Victor Hugo
RE: Small Ship, Big War
the cavalry has arrived
RE: Small Ship, Big War
ORIGINAL: gladiatt
I'm glad to see Franck Barnwell will get out of this mess... for this time. I Like this character.
Ditto. I was hoping for a quick update, great to get a second adventure [8D]. Perhaps this is found in the latter chapters of his book [:D]
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Small Ship, Big War
September 17, 1944
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
Shun sits at a back corner table in Sugai’s bar with his old friend Nonaka. Behind the bar Sugai is putting away some clean shot glasses, placing them in precise rows on the shelf like sailors in line for review. There are a couple of other solitary drinkers in the place, both of them Navy men, but otherwise the place is empty.
“You must be getting old,” says Nonaka, his eyes bright and alert despite his many wrinkles, “to let someone put a bullet into you like that.” Shun shrugs.
“The assassin was good,” he says. “It’s nice to know Du still cares enough to send his best men after me.”
“Do you think he’ll try again?” Nonaka asks.
“I doubt it,” says Shun. He sips his drink. “Not with the Rickshaw Man gone. He’ll probably wait and see if the Americans or the British can do the job for him.”
Nonaka chuckles, a dry and raspy sound. “And after the war he may have bigger problems to worry about,” he says. “It will be a new world whoever wins and Du will have to scramble to stay on top of it.”
Shun nods agreement. “I have not thanked you yet for your help,” he says.
“Ah, that is not necessary,” says Nonaka. “I just wish I could have done more. But I’m getting old.”
“You don’t get older, you just get more gnarled and tough, like an old tree root,” says Shun. The two men sit quietly and drink for a time. Finally Nonaka speaks again.
“Do you remember what I used to tell you, back aboard Hirado?” he asks Shun.
“Of course. It was ‘move your lazy ass, you great hulking idiot’.”
Nonaka chortles. “Not that,” he says. “The other thing.”
“Ah,” Shun says, “You mean ‘after the rain, earth hardens.’”
“Yes,” says Nonaka. “You have survived many rains, my friend. You have done well.”
“Heh,” says Shun. “You were a brutal tyrant of a petty officer. After surviving you everything else seemed easy.”
“No need to thank me,” says Nonaka modestly, taking another drink.
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
Shun sits at a back corner table in Sugai’s bar with his old friend Nonaka. Behind the bar Sugai is putting away some clean shot glasses, placing them in precise rows on the shelf like sailors in line for review. There are a couple of other solitary drinkers in the place, both of them Navy men, but otherwise the place is empty.
“You must be getting old,” says Nonaka, his eyes bright and alert despite his many wrinkles, “to let someone put a bullet into you like that.” Shun shrugs.
“The assassin was good,” he says. “It’s nice to know Du still cares enough to send his best men after me.”
“Do you think he’ll try again?” Nonaka asks.
“I doubt it,” says Shun. He sips his drink. “Not with the Rickshaw Man gone. He’ll probably wait and see if the Americans or the British can do the job for him.”
Nonaka chuckles, a dry and raspy sound. “And after the war he may have bigger problems to worry about,” he says. “It will be a new world whoever wins and Du will have to scramble to stay on top of it.”
Shun nods agreement. “I have not thanked you yet for your help,” he says.
“Ah, that is not necessary,” says Nonaka. “I just wish I could have done more. But I’m getting old.”
“You don’t get older, you just get more gnarled and tough, like an old tree root,” says Shun. The two men sit quietly and drink for a time. Finally Nonaka speaks again.
“Do you remember what I used to tell you, back aboard Hirado?” he asks Shun.
“Of course. It was ‘move your lazy ass, you great hulking idiot’.”
Nonaka chortles. “Not that,” he says. “The other thing.”
“Ah,” Shun says, “You mean ‘after the rain, earth hardens.’”
“Yes,” says Nonaka. “You have survived many rains, my friend. You have done well.”
“Heh,” says Shun. “You were a brutal tyrant of a petty officer. After surviving you everything else seemed easy.”
“No need to thank me,” says Nonaka modestly, taking another drink.
RE: Small Ship, Big War
So what did the tough elder petty officer do for the tough old petty officer that he couldn't do himself...
The world wonders.
The world wonders.
Ryan Opel
RE: Small Ship, Big War
What great writing...i can hardly wait for the next turn
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whippleofd
- Posts: 617
- Joined: Fri Dec 23, 2005 1:40 am
RE: Small Ship, Big War
ORIGINAL: rjopel
So what did the tough elder petty officer do for the tough old petty officer that he couldn't do himself...
The world wonders.
Navy training. Sailors aren't born, they're made.
Whipple
MMCS(SW/AW) 1981-2001
1981 RTC, SD
81-82 NPS, Orlando
82-85 NPTU, Idaho Falls
85-90 USS Truxtun (CGN-35)
90-93 USS George Washington (CVN-73)
93-96 NFAS Orlando
96-01 Navsea-08/Naval Reactors
1981 RTC, SD
81-82 NPS, Orlando
82-85 NPTU, Idaho Falls
85-90 USS Truxtun (CGN-35)
90-93 USS George Washington (CVN-73)
93-96 NFAS Orlando
96-01 Navsea-08/Naval Reactors
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Small Ship, Big War
ORIGINAL: Whipple
ORIGINAL: rjopel
So what did the tough elder petty officer do for the tough old petty officer that he couldn't do himself...
The world wonders.
Navy training. Sailors aren't born, they're made.
Whipple
Very true. For all his physical gifts Shun was something of a wild man when he enlisted in the navy in order to escape from Shanghai back in 1920. His transformation from raw recruit into the disciplined, consummate professional he became is probably an interesting story in itself.
Rjopel may have been asking, however, what Nonaka had done more recently that Shun was thanking him for. The old sailor alerted Shun that the Rickshaw Man was in town in the first place, and after Shun was shot he found the Rickshaw Man and alerted the crew (via Shiro) where he was hiding.
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Small Ship, Big War
September 18, 1944
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: TF 41
Mission: Air combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The work on Hiyo is finally completed. Hibiki and destroyer Akebono are detailed to escort the carrier to Tokyo. Once the brief journey is completed Hibiki is to remain at Tokyo and await further assignment.
Two destroyers are a slender escort for a carrier but no other suitable ships are available. The journey is not a long one, fortunately, and there have been relatively few submarines sighted right off the coast recently. The plan is to stay close to shore and go as fast as Hiyo’s inadequate engines will allow. With any luck it will be a quick and easy journey.
Location: Osaka/Kobe
Course: None
Attached to: TF 41
Mission: Air combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The work on Hiyo is finally completed. Hibiki and destroyer Akebono are detailed to escort the carrier to Tokyo. Once the brief journey is completed Hibiki is to remain at Tokyo and await further assignment.
Two destroyers are a slender escort for a carrier but no other suitable ships are available. The journey is not a long one, fortunately, and there have been relatively few submarines sighted right off the coast recently. The plan is to stay close to shore and go as fast as Hiyo’s inadequate engines will allow. With any luck it will be a quick and easy journey.
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Cuttlefish
- Posts: 2454
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2007 5:03 am
- Location: Oregon, USA
RE: Small Ship, Big War
September 19, 1944
Location: 60 miles southwest of Tokyo
Course: Northeast
Attached to: TF 41
Mission: Air combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 431
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The three Japanese ships are still outside Tokyo Bay as darkness starts to fall. On the bridge Captain Ishii stands impassively. Only the slow tapping of one finger along the outside seam of his trousers betrays any impatience.
Lieutenant Miharu comes onto the bridge. “Good evening, sir,” he says, then checks the ship’s position. “We get to make the run into the bay in the dark, I see.”
“Yes we do, Exec,” says Ishii. “I don’t know what work they did on her but Hiyo is still far from the fastest ship in the navy.”
“No other problems, though, sir?”
“No,” says Ishii. “No sightings and no reports of submarines in the area. The ship is yours. Check the new minefield charts carefully as we enter the bay and alert me when we have arrived. I will be in my cabin.”
“Yes sir,” says the lieutenant. Ishii retires as Hibiki leads the small task force towards the shelter of Tokyo Bay.
Location: 60 miles southwest of Tokyo
Course: Northeast
Attached to: TF 41
Mission: Air combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 431
Orders: Escort Hiyo to Tokyo
---
The three Japanese ships are still outside Tokyo Bay as darkness starts to fall. On the bridge Captain Ishii stands impassively. Only the slow tapping of one finger along the outside seam of his trousers betrays any impatience.
Lieutenant Miharu comes onto the bridge. “Good evening, sir,” he says, then checks the ship’s position. “We get to make the run into the bay in the dark, I see.”
“Yes we do, Exec,” says Ishii. “I don’t know what work they did on her but Hiyo is still far from the fastest ship in the navy.”
“No other problems, though, sir?”
“No,” says Ishii. “No sightings and no reports of submarines in the area. The ship is yours. Check the new minefield charts carefully as we enter the bay and alert me when we have arrived. I will be in my cabin.”
“Yes sir,” says the lieutenant. Ishii retires as Hibiki leads the small task force towards the shelter of Tokyo Bay.
RE: Small Ship, Big War
Keep it rolling CF! I look forward to the new entries...
Member: Treaty, Reluctant Admiral and Between the Storms Mod Team.
RE: Small Ship, Big War
you have inspired me to start my own war in the pacific campaign..it has always intimidated me