Small Ship, Big War - The Voyages of the Hibiki

[Cuttlefish]

April 26, 1945

Location: 240 miles northeast of Marcus Island
Course: South
Attached to: TF 21
Mission: Surface combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 361

Orders: Proceed south and raid enemy shipping

---

Rear Admiral Yamamoto’s task force begins to slow as it approaches Marcus Island. The canny admiral intends to approach the island with the care of a burglar approaching an apparently quiet and silent house. Once they pass Marcus they will be in enemy waters. Submarines and increased air patrols from the island report no enemy ships in the area but this does not change Yamamoto’s approach. He intends to detect the enemy before they detect him.

Aboard Hibiki Chief Petty Officer Shun prowls the foredeck. He has been on edge all day. The Chief is not a man given to nerves or flights of fancy but he cannot shake the feeling that something somewhere is badly wrong. It frustrates him that he cannot find a source for these feelings. Nothing seems amiss. Everything aboard ship is running smoothly and the spirits of his men are higher than they have been in a while.

Yet the feeling persists. Shun continues to prowl and the sailors under his restless gaze, detecting his mood, walk very softly indeed.

---

(Twenty four hours previously)

“Wake up, child. Wake up!” Nanami groans in her sleep. Why is her grandmother badgering her so? All she wants to do is sleep a little longer.

Her grandmother persists. Finally Nanami opens her eyes. Yet the darkness of sleep persists. What is going on? Nanami rubs her eyes but it remains pitch black. She feels badly confused and has a terrible headache.

Slowly other impressions reach her fogged brain. While she can see nothing she smells earth and dust and…sweet potatoes? What is going on? And why is there such stress in her grandmother’s voice?

“Grandmother?’ she says. Her voice is hoarse and her bottom lip seems swollen.

“Thank the gods,” she hears her grandmother say. “How do you feel, child?” Her grandmother’s bony hands grips her right hand tightly.

“My head hurts?” she says. “Grandmother, why can’t I see? Have I been sick?”

“We are in the root cellar,” says her grandmother. “Don’t you remember the enemy ships?” Ships? The enemy ships! Suddenly Nanami remembers.

“”Grandmother, are you all right?” she asks.

“My left leg is broken,” comes the matter-of-fact reply. “I am afraid I am not going anywhere for a while. You must go get help.” Nanami sits up quickly, then groans as pain shoots through her head. She feels sick to her stomach.

“I will go immediately,” she manages to say.

“Wait a bit,” she hears her grandmother say. “It has been quiet for a little while now but it would not hurt to make certain.” Nanami nods, then realizes that her grandmother cannot see her.

“All right,” she says. Slowly the pounding in her head recedes a bit. Nanami probes carefully through her own long thick hair and finds a sizeable lump above and behind one ear. She withdraws her fingers quickly after a probe is greeted with a stab of pain. Turning to other matters she carefully stands.

The first thing they must have is light. Nanami extends a hand and finds a wall, then shuffles along until providentially she comes to the ladder. There seems to be a lot of loose dirt and debris underfoot. She climbs the ladder until she comes to the wooden hatch, then gives it a push. Nothing happens.

Disconcerted, Nanami moves up another step and gets her shoulder under the hatch, then straightens her legs, straining upward. Pain lances through her head but she persists and slowly the hatch moves. A crack of daylight appears and dirt patters down. As Nanami succeeds in tilting the hatch a heavy covering of dirt slides off Nanami shoves the hatch aside and emerges into the daylight. Then she blinks, disoriented by more than her headache.

The neat garden terrace is gone, transformed into a hummocked wasteland. Two of cottage’s stone walls still stand but the rest of the structure is utterly gone. Further downslope the hill is studded with shell craters, which are thickest around the blockhouse. Or rather, where the blockhouse used to be. Now there are just upward-jutting teeth of concrete and slabs of rubble.

Still dazed and unable to comprehend the change that has come over her world Nanami climbs out and stumbles down the slope. Here she sees one of her grandmother’s pots, half buried in dirt. There she sees part of a table. And there is an object she cannot at first place. She stands over it, staring down.

It is a human leg, she dimly realizes. Already flies have found it. Nanami lifts her gaze from the horrible sight and looks down at the ruins of the blockhouse. I used to feed them, she thinks numbly. I took soup to them.

Her nausea returns with redoubled force and she turns her head and vomits into the churned-up dirt. When she is done she wipes her mouth and flees back to the root cellar, tears streaming down her cheeks as shock gives way to grief and fear.

[gladiatt]

Really really great.
Cuttlefish, i think you have by now a kind of duty for all your readers: this chapter about Nanami is good, and we are all awaiting for more [:)].
Congrats ! [&o]

[flaggelant]

a great story indeed
 
by a good writer, showing all facets of the war
 
[&o]

[Ambassador]

Uh-oh, flying legs ?  Lesser writers would have fallen on the ridiculous side of the cliché, but you wrote this magnificently ![&o]

[Cuttlefish]

April 27, 1945

Location: 240 miles northeast of Marcus Island
Course: South
Attached to: TF 21
Mission: Surface combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 332

Orders: Proceed south and raid enemy shipping

---

Hibiki ship’s log, 27 April 1945:

[font="Courier New"]Task force ordered to hold position to await refueling convoy and locate targets. Weather fair, sea state three. Extra anti-submarine lookouts posted.[/font]

---

Nanami has been reluctant to leave her grandmother but after two days it is apparent the old woman is not doing well. She is in much pain and her complexion, as revealed by the light of the lantern that Nanami has lit, seems waxy and grey. As there is no way to get her out of the partly-collapsed root cellar Nanami will have to bring help to her.

The closest doctor is in Kunigami, several kilometers away. The nearest hospital is at Kadina, over 50 kilometers distant. Nanami does not know what is happening to the south. At times she hears the dull, distant thud of explosions and it seems to her that these sounds are growing closer. Still, that is the direction she must go.

She makes her grandmother as comfortable as she can and leaves her with the last intact water jug and most of the food. The only other thing the old woman asks for is the rifle.

“Just lay it right there, dear, thank you,” Rin Shun says. She looks at her granddaughter’s face. “Be careful, Nanami. The people you meet out there, whatever side they are on, will be scared. Frightened people, even good people, can be very dangerous.” Nanami nods, biting her lower lip. She kneels and kisses her grandmother on the forehead.

“I will be back soon, Grandmother,” she says. Then she turns and climbs up the ladder into the daylight. She picks her way purposefully down the slope, carefully avoiding looking wherever swarms of flies gather, and onto the road. Far out at sea she spies some ships but they do not seem to be doing anything other than cruising slowly north.

Nanami hefts her small rucksack over her shoulder and starts walking south, detouring around a large shell crater. In the distance ahead smoke smudges the horizon.

[grraven2004]

I feel for the civilians. They are the true victims in any war.

[Capt. Harlock]

Hibiki ship’s log, 27 April 1945: Task force ordered to hold position to await refueling convoy and locate targets. Weather fair, sea state three. Extra anti-submarine lookouts posted.

Ohboy.[X(] It isn't the sub attacks Hibiki needs to worry about -- it's being sighted and reported.

[Cuttlefish]

April 28, 1945

Location: 240 miles northeast of Marcus Island
Course: South
Attached to: TF 21
Mission: Surface combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 304

Orders: Proceed south and raid enemy shipping

---

Nanami has passed the night in an abandoned cottage and early in the morning continues south, still seeking someone who can help her grandmother. Almost at once she begins encountering people moving north. In ones and twos, in small groups and large, terrified Okinawans are fleeing the enemy. All are on foot.

“Come with us,” one man urges.His wife stands nearby holding a baby and two other small children are in tow. “The American devils are close behind. They will cut off our noses and ears if we are captured, and for a pretty young woman like you that will be only the beginning!” He has not seen a doctor. No one has. All doctors and nurses have been taken south to help the Army.

Nanami continues south against this human tide, the lone figure moving that direction. By midday she can hear the rattling of gunfire and explosions ahead. Twice enemy aircraft roar past overhead, prompting people to scramble into ditches. Nanami spares the planes hardly a glance. The day grows warm and the dust raised by the feet of the refugees hangs in the air and coats the bushes along the road.

Soon there are no more refugees. But coming towards her are new figures clad in khaki uniforms. Nanami stops and waits for them to approach. These are Japanese soldiers, also on foot. They do not seem to be marching in formation but rather form a ragged mob strung out along the road. The first few to pass merely glance at her incuriously and continue shuffling north with the best speed they can muster. Their uniforms are dirty and frayed. Nanami tries to stop one to ask if there is a doctor with them but the soldier ignores her.

She grabs another by the sleeve and repeats the question. The soldier shoves her roughly away, cursing her. Nanami sprawls in the dust.

She finds herself looking at a pair of leather ankle-length boots. “Let me help you up,” says a voice. She takes the offered hand and is pulled to her feet to find herself facing a lieutenant. The lieutenant halts the soldier who pushed her and then slaps him twice, hard.

“I apologize for my men,” he says to her. “We have been pushed hard the last two days. The enemy is close behind us. Do you need help?”

Nanami stammers out her story. The officer listens as his men hurry past, then takes her elbow and steers her after them.

“You must come with us,” he says. “It will not do for you to be caught by the enemy. They will be here soon.” He continues to talk as they walk, Nanami hurrying to match the lieutenant’s long strides. It seems that the Japanese defenses on the island are concentrated elsewhere, around Kadina and further south. Here in the north there are only a few scattered detachments and the American columns are moving this way against little resistance.

“I will see that your grandmother is taken care of,” the officer promises. “As we have orders to establish a position at Yona we will pass your cottage tomorrow.” Yona is north of the Shun cottage.

Nanami thanks him profusely. She and the soldiers continue north and soon begin overtaking the slowest of the refugees Nanami passed earlier in the day. Okinawans and Japanese soldiers alike trudge through the dust, all of them fleeing the ruthless American monsters they know follow close at their heels.

[Hornblower]

"Nanami thanks him profusely. She and the soldiers continue north and soon begin overtaking the slowest of the refugees Nanami passed earlier in the day. Okinawans and Japanese soldiers alike trudge through the dust, all of them fleeing the ruthless American monsters they know follow close at their heels. "  Has a landing taken place ?

[Cuttlefish]

ORIGINAL: Hornblower

"Nanami thanks him profusely. She and the soldiers continue north and soon begin overtaking the slowest of the refugees Nanami passed earlier in the day. Okinawans and Japanese soldiers alike trudge through the dust, all of them fleeing the ruthless American monsters they know follow close at their heels. "

Has a landing taken place ?

Yes, landings began on April 26th, the day after the bombardment that destroyed the Shun home. The Allied invasion in this case seems to have followed the historical one, with troops coming ashore near Kadina on the western side of the island. Japanese defenses around the airfield there are stronger than they were historically but as with the real invasion the northern part of the island (where the Shuns live) is only lightly garrisoned.

[Hornblower]

This is really well written.. 

[kaleun]

She grabs another by the sleeve and repeats the question. The soldier shoves her roughly away, cursing her. Nanami sprawls in the dust.

I just saw "The battle of Okinawa" Reminds me of the movie.

[Cuttlefish]

April 29, 1945

Location: 60 miles southwest of Marcus Island
Course: South
Attached to: TF 21
Mission: Surface combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 268

Orders: Proceed south and raid enemy shipping

---

There are hunters…

The Japanese task force shifts position to a point south of Marcus Island. They are now in position to intercept an enemy convoy should one be detected. Word comes that a group of oilers dispatched from Hokkaido is nearing rendezvous with them. This will enable the thirsty destroyers to top off their fuel. If they do succeed in launching an attack this will become important, because the enemy reaction is likely to be violent and no one is going to want to slow down to refuel as they head back north.

As yet no likely targets have been sighted, however. But it has only been a few days. The Japanese task force continues to wait, not unlike a great cat crouched patiently on a tree branch over a game trail.

---

And there are the hunted…

Nanami’s bare feet are sore and she is tired. The soldiers continue to push she and the other civilians they have overtaken at a brutal pace. It is hardest on the oldest and youngest among them and there are several families with small children among them. Behind them an occasional artillery shell or enemy plane spurs them on.

Late in the morning they reach the bend of the road below the wreckage of the Shun’s cottage. Nanami eagerly points out the spot to the lieutenant in command and starts up the slope. The officer grabs her by the arm and drags her back, however.

“You cannot stop,” he says sternly. “The Americans will do terrible things to you if they catch you. Stay with these people. I will see that your grandmother is taken care of, as I promised.” Nanami is desperate to help her grandmother but she has spent enough time with these soldiers by now to know it would be useless. Most of them look at the Okinawan civilians with thinly veiled contempt, seeming to regard them as foreigners and potential traitors.

The lieutenant turns to a soldier and, indicating the position of the root cellar, tells him to take care of the old woman. The soldier nods and starts up the slope. As Nanami rounds the bend of the hill she casts one last anguished glance up the slope to where her injured grandmother lies. The Japanese soldier is toiling up the shell-torn path towards her, rifle slung over his shoulder.

---

The soldier understands his lieutenant’s command all too well. They cannot spare the time to care for one sick old woman. The only thing to do is to put an end to her quickly. It is an unpleasant task for the soldier but no more so than shooting a sick and elderly dog.

He finds the square hole in the earth easily enough and stands peering down into the dimness. Yes, there she is, propped up on some sacks, one leg thrust out at an awkward angle. She is not moving and he thinks she may already be dead until her eyes open. He can see them glinting in the gloom.

He unshoulders his rifle and works the bolt. “I am sorry about this, old woman,” he says apologetically. He raises the rifle and sights down along it. It looks like the crone is fumbling with a crutch. Poor old bat, she actually imagines she is going to be rescued, he thinks.

“I’m sorry too,” comes her thin, hoarse voice.

The sound of a single rifle shot, oddly muffled, floats down the hill.

---

Two hours later Sergeant Kozlowski leads his patrol along the same stretch of road. The sergeant is one of those terrifying old leathernecks who is serving in his second world war. He walks easily, rifle in hand, his eyes missing nothing. The men in the patrol follow his lead. They have learned through battles on other islands that if anyone can get them though in one piece it’s Koz. Not that anyone but the old hands in the platoon get to call him that, and then only when they are off-duty.

Kozlowski knows the ruined bunker down by the beach and the shattered cottage up the slope are good spots for snipers. He halts the patrol while he sends a pair of men to check each of them out. The rest of the patrol falls out, grateful for a chance to stop moving for a few minutes.

One of the men he sent upslope comes back around the corner of the battered cottage. “Sarge! Hey, Sarge, come check this out!” calls the soldier. Kozlowski strides up the hill.

Behind the cottage are the ruins of a garden and, over by a hole in the ground, a dead Japanese soldier. He has fallen backwards away from the hole and most of the top of his head has been blown off. A rifle lies near one outflung hand. Kozlowski’s men are crouched by the hole.

“There’s an old woman down there,” says one of his men. “I think she’s dead.” The sergeant peers carefully over the edge, takes in the scene, then swings onto the ladder and climbs down. It is cool down in the cellar and there is a strong smell of earth and roots. The back wall of the neatly-built cellar has collapsed, spilling dirt and timbers across the floor.

The old woman is alive but unconscious. Across her body lies a large rifle. Kozlowski lifts it as one of his men joins him. The other remains on watch up top.

“A Lebel,” says Kozlowski. “I saw plenty of these in France, in the last war.” He turns and looks up at the opening ten feet above. As he fits the pieces of the puzzle together something like a grin spreads across his seamed face. He looks back down at the unconscious figure.

“I don’t know who you are, old woman,” he says, “but you’ve got sand. Anderson!”

The soldier’s face appears framed in the opening above. “Sarge?” he says.

“Get a couple of corpsmen up here. Tell them to bring some ropes and a litter. We’ve got a patient for them.”

[tocaff]

Mama Shun has put the old rifle to good use yet again.  

[Marc gto]

wow mama san shun..she has grit

[thegreatwent]

I have a feeling Shun wouldn't be surprised at all. I just hope Nanami will be ok.

[alaviner]

The Marines better be glad that Mama Shun was passed out when they found her.[:D]

[Cuttlefish]

ORIGINAL: NCSUforest

The Marines better be glad that Mama Shun was passed out when they found her.[:D]

I figure it was the jolt from the recoil of the Lebel that did it. That would have been enormously painful to someone with a broken leg.

[gladiatt]

ORIGINAL: NCSUforest

The Marines better be glad that Mama Shun was passed out when they found her.[:D]

i am much more anxious for Nanami: who know what could happen to a nice young women alone in a group of battered soldiers, even if of the same side ???

[ckammp]

ORIGINAL: gladiatt

ORIGINAL: NCSUforest

The Marines better be glad that Mama Shun was passed out when they found her.[:D]

i am much more anxious for Nanami: who know what could happen to a nice young women alone in a group of battered soldiers, even if of the same side ???

Especially if that Jap LT decides to blame her for the death of his soldier!