herbiesan vs Cantona!!!

[1275psi]

3/12/43

Miyazuki carefully packs his kit. There is only a very small area in the storage compartment of the Tojo, and where they are going "expect nothing -if you cannot take it -you won't have it, if you don't need it -don't bring it"

There is his simple sleeping mat, the mosquito net. A bowl, his razor, tooth brush. One spare shirt. His letters.
That is all he needs. All that will fit.
On him, a pistol, his sword, map board, a battle dressing. Life jacket. Chute. It was a wonder he could even climb into the cockpit..............

All around him, the pilots prepare. There is little jocularity, much contemplation. Ahead, a long, long journey -then, then certain battle.

The Admirals, the generals had arrived at dawn, and Nakamura had departed with them to the big long specially assembled tent.
The wise amongst the 47th had begaun to pack.............

Miyazuki got it right -of course it was not hard to guess. "I would say Juni -we are going to be helping the Navy out of a sticky situation again"
Juni spits into the dust " Timor, majuro, kwaljien, rabual - when the hell weren't we pulling the Navy eggs from the fire?"

"We are going men" No smile, no grin today. A long, long journey ahead............


The tigers line up -and once again the great rumble of Nakamura's wings -100 plus, roll across the paddies , rivers and jungles.
He leads them aloft -tall and erect in his cockpit, as he has done so many times before.
The crowd watches them go - how can you not?. They do not cheer today, or wave the rising sun, (there are no camera today), they just watch, and wonder -how many will return, will they prevail?

The mass circles once -a final farewell, and turns west.
Soon the great roar fades, and silence returns to the great wastes of bangkok field
But soon, another noise, more engines from the south. Deeper, lower, slower, and they heave into sight. Transports, dozens of them, great eagles, seeking a new nest.
Amongst them, smaller planes, more fighters. Swallows amongst them.

One of the transports taxis right to the door of the mess., great clouds of dust as the engines rev violently with no pitch.
They shudder to a halt, and in the sudden silence -a head, attached to a particularily ugly dial, pops out of the pilots hatch
'Right then" Hosho commands 'Where is lunch?"


To the west, 47th pick up their guiding angel, a beautiful big Emily, and like ducklings following mother, follow her out across the big blue.
Miyazuki watches her like a hawk, watches all around himwith intense concentration. Lose the pack here, lose concentration, and one is lost.
The weather threatens all trip,threatens disaster, great clouds building on all horizons, they travel in a pocket of blue.

The Adaman islands hove into view.............
Imagine a string of three sausages. Japan controls the two outer ones, the british , half the middle one -its Army stranded at Austin harbour -tantilising short of the nearest airfield -but unable to breach that final ridge surrounding them.

Japan cannot eject them. Nor has it been able to slow the british slow growth in strength. Submarine?, fast transports?, air supply?. A mystery.

As Nakamura wheels them over the island, over the british positions (here we are -come on -do something about this!, see our strength!) he can see why this siege has lasted so long. One field, vulnerable to naval fire. A million places the Allies could land reinforcements. The narrow, narrow fronts -for both sides.
47th's orders are simple. Ones they know well. "Hold the harbour open as long as you can. Support the bombers" Hold. Hold, Hold"

They have done it before. They must do it again. He leads them into the devastated field that tries to pretend it is an airstrip.
47th is again at the tip of the spear, the edge of the shield. How long to blunt it this time?

[1275psi]

LCDR Okano watches the Tigers land
He notes the circuit discipline, the neat landings, the automatic way the fighters disperse across the field. These men have seen battle. A better relieving force for the guys just departed could not be wished for.

Nakamura's fighter is not hard to spot - the tiger on its tail still burns bright , and he recongnises the swagger, the confidence of a leader well before he can see the bars of rank.

They salute
'Welcome Nakamura"
So this is Okano -terror of the indian ocean. Killer of the carriers.
"A pleasure" Nakamura glances towards the francis bomber parked to the side -its shattered perspex, the bent prop.
The shattered buildings, the many AA guns, expended casings thick on the ground.
""I understand that it has been a bit busy here?'"
'Just a bit"..................





LCDR Okano - commander of G2 genzen -Francis bombers ( Inspiration 90, leadership 70)

[1275psi]

CVL Ryujo

Smn Agarshi, Shimto are again below decks. Again on watch, shut below on a ship "bottled up"
The great boilers suck in the oil, flare it incadendance, pulse with very life.
The two stokers sweat (when have they never not down here?), and tend the great beast carefully. The carrier shakes, rattles.
Nagumo is forcing the fleet hard -as hard as he can, he sits impassively in his chair, and frets over every minute of delay.

Agarshi begins his rounds. Its at the fuel pump that he sees it. A pinhole leak in the 250 PSI range. Small now, but potentially dangerous. It will have to be stopped, another pump cut in.
Yet another defect. On top of all those others they have not been able to attend to.
How long would this hard driving go on?


Agarshi is not alone. All across the great fleet, a million little defects pile up..............

[1275psi]

There is something about the fighter cockpit that we need to remember.
Once aloft –you are totally alone.
The radio may bark, may fill with chatter, but ultimately, it is you, your fears, your determination, your courage, your skill, against the enemy.

It is still the hunters world.

Juni hunts

At 22000 feet, with Port Blair a mere smudge below, the sea stretching endlessly in blue, with no cloud, in the freezing nothingness , Juni hunts.

Around him, the three sentais climb, 80 plus fighters, climbing, climbing hard, yet they may as well not be there. Already he has picked his victim, the ones who will pay for the pain.

They climb above and ahead of the Liberators – a mighty herd today -50 strong, answering Nakamura’s challenge –determined to crush the insolence of Port Blair.
22000, 23000, 24000, and now a good mile ahead, moving to the right quarter.

The plan is simple –sweeping attacks here –viewed from the bombers, they will come in from about 2 o’clock, the right side of the cockpit. Lower turrets will be anable to engage, the rears only as the attackers flash past and through, diving away.

Waist gunners will be blinded by their own wings………

That still leaves the upper, the forward guns. Lots of them.
But interception will be fast, very fast.

Nakamura gives the word, and the sentais go in –raking attacks, flashing through the bombers.
“85th attacking”
‘87th attacking”
47th, attack!”

Juni swings in, eyes only for the lumbering beast, 3 planes in from the edge of the formation. No 276

Why 276?. Does the particular antelope know why the cheetah chose it?
Does the cheetah know?
Or is there a hidden link –a strand of fate?

Juni’s guns bite, bite hard –the flashing aluminium, the debris flying, the shovelling smoke……………
He wheels around, hard, hard, eyes still firmly on his prey, oblivious to all around him, the tracer, the Flak, the guns flashing at him.
The prey staggers, losing height, he opposite banks, levels, and broad side on, hammers the bomber again, barrel rolling down and away below her………..

Kill number 6
Later, as they tally the score, survey the many damaged fighters, inspect the poor Francis Bomber scattered all over the field, someone will ask Juni to recount his kill.

And he will pause., and be utterly unable to………….




Operations report
Port Blair
50 liberators engaged
1 loss
11 damaged
2 kills –a great many bombers damaged.
Only 1 hit on field

47th score both kills –they have a second ace, WO Sahahagi ? ( I have to double check this name)

[1275psi]

12/5/43

Today -anticlimax.
It rains all day -sweeping showers, low clouds.
It does not totally prevent flying though, all day the transports arrive, each one disgorging hard bitten veterens of the 33rd division.
Only a few with each plane, but there seems to be an awful lot of planes...............


At dusk, something else new. 6 proper destroyers enter the harbour -hunting Submarines.
It has been a long time since the navy has been here in any form - and for the troops on Port Blair, it sends moral soaring.

How the british feel about it -we remain in the dark.

[flaggelant]

ORIGINAL: 1275psi

"What will become of us Nakamura?"
The glass hesitates at the older mans lips. And it strikes Juni, just how old this man has gotten, how old, how fast.
"That, is easy . We will be forgotten Juni. The dead always are. We will become unknown faces on a unknown faded photo, in a unknown library." he swallows the drink, pours the last dregs "If we are lucky.........."

great writing there! [&o]

good to see the 47th back in action & scoring hits!!

[1275psi]

Thank you for kind comments -I know i get a steady number of hits -not so sure why though!

[1275psi]

Extract from Shattering the sword -a Cantona production.


For the Japanese, it had always been a war about the British, about ejecting the imperiallists. That the Americans had gotten involved was.............unfortunate.

Now, almost two years to the day since the Japanese eagles had appeared with out warning over the skies of Singapore, Japan launches 'Eastern harvest" -her greatest gamble of the war.
Could Port Blair be crushed? Would the Americans take full advantage and race into the great wastes of the pacific while an opportunity beconned?

The Strategic thinking was simple. Finish the British threat once and for all, free all those troops on Port Blair for Burma, then turn, and defeat the Americans whilst the effects of New Britian lingered.
Surely then, it was thought -peace could be forced. Of course -this might have been viable -but for those pits full of the dead at majuro.....................

[1275psi]

Juni circles Port Blair.

Other than a quick chase -always the chase -never the kill! of a recon P38 -47th have had a boring, boring day.
In the air that is.
Below, below has been beautiful.

Naval bombers -the venerable Betties -dropping on the British -unmolested.
The ships in the harbour attacking the sub

But best of all - there -just on the horizon - the great grey shapes..............

[1275psi]

Extract from "Fighting the Tide" by Col Nakamura

It happened just before dusk. I had the sentai down -another stunningly quiet day -if the stream of transports are excluded -when the sirens went
I had barely started for the slit trench, no plane for me that day- when the all clear rang out. But there was no doubting the great beat coming our way -and then they raced across the field -dozens upon dozen of them - NK1's, type O's, -carrier planes -, carrier planes beyond counting!
Japanese carrier planes!

To say I was stunned was an understatement. They had told me to hold, hold at any cost-while the relief troops came in.
But this -this could mean but one thing.
It was impossible to resist. I joined in -cheering Banzia! with the lowest soldier. All around me -a great roar -a roar not even those massed engines could drown . I was cheering, cheering - because i would not have to do it alone - because here -here again 47th would be at the point of the war -but this time I knew, just knew -we must win.

[1275psi]

7/12/42

47th sentai fly CAP today.
The Navy flings 109 Jills, 251 judys at the troops on the ground, and massive reinforcements begin to land.
Herbiesan intends to inflict a second singapore upon the british, and remove them forever from the eastern world.

[1275psi]

It is dusk, and the men eat a fairly sparse meal -barely sufficient for the day. But nobody grumbles, not after today.
The dust still hangs in the air, marker of thousands of men still marching North past the field.

They sing, an army confident of victory, eager for action.

"Why do the Indians wear turbans?" Miyazuki asks nobody in particular
"religion"
"Oh" -its a sufficient answer.
'Strange how they are on our side this time. Wonder what they used as an inducement to get them to fight?"
Juni looks up " Does it matter.? Can you young man remember what induced you to join?"
Miyazuki pauses for a minute -its evident that this is a perplexing question
'I can't remember now actually -actually did we have any choice?"

One of the other pilots stands, tips the remains of his bowl into the dust " no, but we do have a choice whether to press the attack, or turn away -those poor barsteds will soon see what choices the Army will give them"
Another voice, anomonous in the gloom. "Infantry will advance -secret police to the rear!"


The Indian Army will march past deep into the night

[hosho]

what is this great aar doing so low on the page.... up you go![:)]

superb writing herbs, good luck ( especially to the infantry, it will be needed )

[1275psi]

8/12/43

Miyazuki sits crossed legged on the ground, staring towards the north. It is night, and very dark. Around him, scattered over a large area, are little refuges of light- shadows, dancing phantoms. The ground crews labour on, footballers straining for the final siren -giving that last great effort.

Miyazuki is a child of his age -young, confident. For his whole life, he has utilised the very sinews of modern man. Today he has flown all day in a machine only generations ago would have seen magic -a machine they probably would have attacked "as a dragon"

But have we come that far?

North - 30 odd miles away, where the british lay trapped between the hills and the sea - 3 of japans battleships fling countless shells into their positions.
The horizon flashes -again, and again. And here, in the dark, the quiet -the sound of the shells rumbles .
Miyazuki's spine shivers. It is not hard to imagine that there -over the hills -Giants argue and fight....................

[1275psi]

Yamamoto recieves the message as he recieves them all - impassively.

"Enemey troops have successfully attacked across Irrawady river -Lashio under extreme pressure'

So, it will be a race then.
Port Blair MUST fall.

[1275psi]

9/12/43

47th continue to fly CAP over the unloading troops at port blair.
85th, 87th help the straffing, pounding of the british -again today the Navy hits the ground troops - damage however appears to be light.
More importantly, the troops continue to pour ashore unmolested.

Port Blair field is -well -chaotic. Planes damaged are being pushed aside, there are not enough ground support men to attend to all -especially with so many transports still flying in
Nevertheless, LCDR Okano of G2 genzen manages to lead a handful of bombers to Akyab -and sinks a AK there -and wins himself a bottle of scotch of Nakamura.

Morale is high.
Despite the poor rations, the incredibly long hours on patrol, the terrible sleeping arrangements -few, if any of the men of 47th would prefer to be any where else but here.

[1275psi]

Hosho brings his transport to a shuddering halt. The ground crew place the chocks under the wheels, begin to tie the wings down. its been a hairy flight. Short -Bangkok to this piss ant hole just south of there, but hairy -the oil pressure guage for the port donk has been up and down like a whore in a brothel. The poor old girl has been driven too hard this week......

He grabs his flight log, begins to fill it in -its a very fat log now this one -if he survives this war it would be interesting to see just how many miles he has flown. "Thank the heavens for that" his co pilot groans 'Who bloody well told me this was a cushy way to spend a war?"
Hosho grins. it has been a tough week -Bangkok to Port Blair bus run "Ah think of the side benefits though" he mutters
'benefits? -you call numb bums, being shot at -and that , that thing that masquraded as an airfield benifits!"
Hosho really likes his co pilot, really does -but, really, he has no sense of humour -or of occassion.
'History my friend -History. Think of what we have seen -and think your grandchildren"
"Ha! - if we live that long"

Hosho finishes his log. In his mind though he can remember. He will never forget - that sea of ships, all those planes. And all those Indian troops - by the thousands, side by side with them. Even if Japan loses this war he muses, one thing is certain. The British empire is finished.

[CarnageINC]

Great to see your keeping up your AAR Herb, I got a lot of reading to do since i last was here [:D] [;)] [:D]

[CarnageINC]

WOW, epic reading Herb.  I can't believe Hyakutake and Iwaya bought it the same day!  Devistating.  I was pissed when Inoue got it too, he didn't even get a kill, poor old bugger.  Great mega effort Herb, very enjoyable reading! 

[1275psi]

10/12/43

Nakamura is enjoying himself.
His tiger is flying like it is on rails today, the air is smooth, smooth as glass, the sky is bright and clear. The sea sparkles.
He flies at 4000 feet over the ocean, the islands on his left wing. He is on the south ward leg of the great circle, ahead, half a dozen odd fighters, strung out in a long line, behind, several dozen more.
At 3/4 quarter throttle she is beating along beautifully -and he gives nary a conscious thought to flying her -mind firmly fixed on the problem at hand.

Over there -below his wing tip, rapidly sliding behind him -is a long line of British machine gun nests -strung out nicely along the back of the ridge, impervious to artillery coming over from the other side of the ridge.
But their backs are exposed to the ocean -and anything from above.

They are todays problem

he reaches a fixed point -invisible in the air - a point years of experience automatically tells him is 'the point', and wings her over, a steady bank -eyes glancing at the targets. They glance -but are not fixed -those hard eyes dance - the target -the guages - up sun, ahead, the target -the fighter ahead.
His hand sits lightly on the stick, the other hovers over the flaps, the throttles.

The nests are to his North now -tiny smudges on the barren ridge -once jungle covered, now killing zone clean
bank again, and descending, and the throttle goes to the wall, and the earth begins to come up.
He fires - three rounds solid to one round tracer -and he is careful to NOT chase the tracer -they will fall short -and the nest disintergrates, clouds of dust, carnage, swiftly flying action, and he pulls away, banking on her wingtip, ocean below now, watching carefully as his next bird strikes, and the next, and the next.

Todays problem is solved.
He straightens out, reduces revs. It is a joy to fly with out oxygen , to just fly today, to fly low, and fast, and to shoot up things that no longer shoot back -to shoot up legitimate targets, not helpless partisans.

Yes, Nakamura enjoys himself.

The enjoyment, reluctantly, stops on return. 7 liberator bombers have attacked today in their absence -no hits thank God- but the navy is, well, not happy. They have more than enough planes on duty thankyou chasing the british - would you mind very much on getting back to your proper job?

Japanese troops are still landing, the battleships again light up the night skies with man made thunder and lightning.
Tomorrow -47th go back to the grind - endless laps over the british rat trap.





Hi Carnage -glad you enjoyed it.