Battle of Noumea -- An Interactive Story

[Admiral DadMan]

Captain Sherman looked out from Wasp’s bridge. The fires were mostly out, crews were re-planking the holes in the flight deck, and all the while, she was still able to recover her strike planes. Air Group Seven had indeed given better than they had gotten, but a second strike would be pretty thin. AGC LCdr Turner’s SBD Dauntless was the last of the strike planes returning. To Sheman’s eye, something just didn’t look right about it.

The first thing that he noticed was Turner’s approach seemed lower than the normal. As Turner came into view, Sherman noticed something else. Hard to see at first, but there it was, Turner’s SBD was missing most of its port side elevator. As he came closer still, there was something else… “Why”, Sherman asked himself, “do his wings look so thin?” And then he realized. NO FLAPS!

“ALERT FLIGHT DECK CRASH AND FIRE TEAMS! INCOMING AIRCRAFT!” came the call on the flight deck loudspeakers.

“Damnn,” Sheman said to himself. It was the second time that day one of his crew gave an order before Sherman could give it himself. “Good people,” he thought. When Turner was about 500 yards astern, Sherman turned to his Helmsman, “Stick, we need all she’s got.”

“Aye, sir,” came the reply. But Sherman knew there would be no more than Wasp’s 25 knots right now. He said a silent prayer for Turner.

In the cockpit, Felix Turner Lt. Commander USN of Air Group Seven was tired. The elation of planting his 1000 pound bomb square onto the flight deck of that Junyo class carrier was long gone and it took all he had to keep his battered aircraft in the air. “Come on, old girl, just another 1000 yards.” Under the flight protocol, his should have been one of the first to land, but as CAG Commander, his duty was to be the last aboard. Besides, he told himself, if he ran out of fuel, he could always ditch and the plane guard destroyer would fish him out. The last thing he wanted to do was to mash in and foul the deck. If he were the last one, there likely wouldn’t be enough fuel to start a fire.

He was coming in low – much too low, and he knew it. One wrong move or brush of a whitecap, and he’d be fish food. But he had to do it this way. He had half of his elevator shot off, and little left of his flaps. He would drop himself in like a pumpkin. Come in low, and at the last moment, pull back on the stick, get up over the deck, and pray the hook caught the deck wire.

As Sheman watched, his body tensed as he willed his body to guide the plane. “That boy has courage. Most would have ditched by now.” Sherman turned a little and nodded. Without looking he knew it was Ray Spruance standing next to him.

As Sheman turned back the SBD was just about to be hidden by the stern. Before that could happen, the SBD shot up, as though it were a roller coaster ride, and popped up above the deck. There was no engine noise, and the plane just plopped down onto the deck, catching the next to last wire. Not given to hyperbole, all that was heard from Spruance was, “Wow.”

Simultaneously, Sherman emitted an elongated, “Damnn….”

Turner’s plane was struck below and Turner himself managed a weak grin in the direction of the bridge with a thumbs up sign of a job well done.

[SoulBlazer]

Thanks, Admiral!

I'd like to get one most post of the Japanese handling the second American air strike (Grotius said he may do that) before going to day two, but of course, anyone is free to post anything.

[Grotius]

BRIDGE
IJN CV ZUIKAKU
1 August 942
1300 hours

Rear Admiral Takeo Takagi stared out at the empty sea. The American aircraft carriers were out there, hiding over the horizon. They fought like cowardly little gnats, stinging and then running away.

Takagi returned his gaze to the charred deck of his ship. The American dive-bombers had poured death onto the deck of Zuikaku. Admiral Takagi's flagship was now a twisted mess of debris and cables and smoke and death. But it still could launch its planes. A dozen dive-bombers and at least as many fighters were almost ready to depart. Takagi's first officer, the craven Kobashi, was still arguing with him.

"We should keep some fighters here," Kobashi was saying again. "The Americans may return."

"Not if we kill their carriers first," Takagi replied. "Besides, they are not organized enough to send a second wave so quickly after the first."

"It is precisely their lack of organization that worries me," Kobashi said. "Their planes come in fits and starts, unpredictably."

"Our CAP did not save us from the first wave." Takagi gestured at the dive-bombers arrayed on deck. "And our bombers are too dainty to survive an attack on an aircraft carrier without fighter escort."

Takagi won the argument, as he always did. He had not let junior officers talk him out of liberating the Dutch East Indies. He was not going to let them talk him out of sinking the USS Enterprise.

He ordered the great carrier to turn into the wind. Propellors turned and men shouted. Imperial bombers and fighters rose into the air. The noise of aviation was a comforting blanket of sound. Only one plane was lost on takeoff; a careless BN5 pilot steered his aircraft into the sea.

After the planes had departed for their target, the air seemed suddenly quiet. Perhaps too quiet. Rear Admiral Takagi looked again at the horizon, flat and long and empty. He felt tension in his stomach.

Twenty minutes later he heard the sirens and shouts. He knew, without looking up at the sky, that Kobashi had been right and he had been wrong. He looked up anyway. A wave of American bombers was approaching the task force. Not one Japanese fighter was available to meet it. Two dozen SBD Dauntlesses and a few Avengers, someone was saying.

Admiral Takagi heard the oddly muffled puffs of AA fire, then saw the pillars of water sprouting around the ship. Only one of the pillars hit the ship itself, but it was a pillar of fire and smoke and death. Off the port beam, he could barely make out CVL Zuiho, a floating skyscraper of fire. He caught a glimpse of the last American fighter flying away. The gnats, he thought to himself, had turned into wasps and hornets.

[SoulBlazer]

I just realized I should do a finish for the Americans for day one before moving into two. This gives anyone else a chance to post anything to close the day. I'll start day two soon.

BRIDGE, USS ENTERPRISE
1613 HOURS

"How did we get so **** lucky?" Admiral Johnson said to anyone who was standing around him. He was on the bridge of the Big E, but had stayed quiet for the last several hours, as he promsied.

The second strike had worried him because it was so much smaller. But what had happened seemed like a miracle, straight our of heaven. First, no Japanese strike had ever arived. The pilots did'nt report seeing any planes on deck, so either the Americans hit them before they could launch again or they launched and got lost. Second, there was no Japanese CAP.....again, why? It was a mystery to the Admiral. Had they been hurt that badly in the first strike? Third, the pilots had reported hits on all the carriers. They pasted the Zuiho, they claimed, and got hits on the other two. Even if those claims were exeragted, it was still a nice blow. And the Americans had gotten lucky -- no new strikes to deal with.

Now night was coming on, and the planes were landing. Losses had been very light this time. The pilots reported the Japanese seemed confused and they left all three carriers in bad shape. A light cruiser had also been reported hit, just to add insult to injury.

Admiral Spurance sent over a note, asking for permission to continue to have the carriers steam south. Aggresive as ever, he wanted to be in "spitting range" of the Jap carriers to finish them off tommorow, sure they would try to retreat and they could'nt launch any more planes. He also wanted permission, if it was deemed proper, to split off the cruisers and some destroyers to form a surface combat fleet. Johnson aproved both ideas, laving the actuall details in his capeable hands.

None of the US subs had made contact and not even the pilots were sure how many ships were in the Japanese fleet. Nothing bigger then a heavy cruiser had been seen, though, which ment the US could handle them -- in a daytime battle. Johnson had bad memories of how deadly the Japs were at night combat. It also ment the six battleships used in their invasion of Australia was not present.

He allowed himself a small smile and started to write personal thank you notes to Spurance and to the capitain of each ship, as well as the leaders of the flight squadrons. He also encourged the captains to thank the pilots and find the men who made the hits on the Japanese carriers.

Japanese radio trafic was being picked up now. No mention of their planes, the translator said, but they were hurt badly. They had been caught by surprise by the Americans carrier strike, and a lot of luck had gone with the US victory also. Johnson dreamed of what he could do if he could smash Japan's carrier forces down here. At least this was a good start.

"Order the crippled ships to head back to Noumea" he said softly. "I don't think we'll need them that much now. And keep sending out those scout planes, plus leave a CAP force up all night. Does'nt have to be big -- I just don't want surprises."

Admiral Johnson stayed on the bridge a few hour hours and then went to grab some food and try to get some sleep. He wondered what his counterpart in the Japanese fleet was doing right now. It would have been so easy for the roles to be reveresed.

(Grotius, you got the Japanese admiral right. That's who my PBEM guy said it was. He also said his fleet was just as heavy in cruisers and destroyers as mine, but he never sought a carrier battle, despite finding on day two I was right smack next to the Japanese fleet. Curious all around. )

Thanks again guys!

[mogami]

Damage Control Petty Officer Renzi Kobayoshi was sleeping the sleep of the dead. He and his fire party had fought fires for what seemed an eternity before bringing them under control.

Finally the ship had the all fires out. Aircrews were busy getting aircraft ready to fly.
Blackfaced Renzi and a few of his ship mate damage control personal had went aft to breathe some fresh air. (and of all things smoke cigarettes)
Someone handed him a mug of hot tea.

"Guess we showed them a bit, huh?" a voice offered

"I'm too tired to tell you what I think" Renzi said as he lay down behind a 40mm mount.
"Wake me up when the war is over" he glanced at his watch
1305. Aircraft were once again roaring off the flight deck

"Hurrah for our side" he laughed and fell to sleep.

[Grotius]

Nice touch, Mogami!

SoulBlazer, I'm glad to hear I guessed right about Admiral Takagi. Since I seem to keep doing IJN stories, I'm curious: Has your opponent provided any other details about personnel in his task force?

[SoulBlazer]

No, I'm afraid he has'nt. He knows about this thread, maybe I'll ask him to stop by and say a few words.

I'll try to post Day Two tommorow.

[SoulBlazer]

Well, I'll go ahead and start day two now, but if anyone else wants to do anything from day one, feel free to go ahead.

BRIDGE
USS ENTERPRISE
0702 HOURS
AUGUST 2 1942

Admiral Johnson was up early, and he personaly thanked the chef for the good cup of coffee he was able to get in one of the small pilot mess halls. It was far better then he could get at base on Noumea. He then joined the captain and other officers on the bridge.

The Dauntless scout planes had allready left the two carriers, now fully able to launch and recover planes, although the Enterprises engine would continue to act up until she returned to base. Still, it was only a loss of a couple of knots. And hopefully, the Americans would'nt have to endure any attacks today.

Long range Catalinas from Noumea were also allready in the air, and the Admiral waited along with everyone else for the scouting reports to come back.

Enough planes had been fixed from yesterdays action that a good size strike could be assembled, and everyone was in high spirts. They hoped to be able to finish dealing the Japanese a major blow today.

Spurance had indeed kept the ships heading south all night, but had kept the fleet together. Now, the task force was almost in the same spot the Japanese had been found at about 24 hours eariler. No sign of the Japs, of course, that would need to wait for the scout reports to come in.

And it did'nt take long for the reports to come in, indeed -- but it was a surprise to everyone, including the Admiral himself.

It took several confirmations from several scout planes and carefull charting on the maps before everyone was convienced of what they saw.

Aperently, the Japanese task force had, during the night, broken up into no less then THREE seperate forces! The scouts reported that each Japanese carrier was still aloat, and had taken several escorts with her as they headed in different directions. But what directions! One force was to the west, another was to the east -- closer to Noumea! -- and the other to the south. Its as if the Japanese had lost control of their ships and they had just drifted, the escorts refusing to let the carriers die by themselves.

Well, it was time to finish the task. Admiral Johnson sent a message over to Spurance telling him to divide up the strike forces as he best saw fit and hit all three groups, and soon, just in case some of them could manage to get some planes in the air. He also wanted some planes held back in case the Japanese came charging into the carriers with surface ships.

"I hope we can settle this thing in the course of a few hours" Admiral Johnson commented after he was finished with his note and headed over to watch the planes take off.

(Combat report follows, and then it's back in everyone's court. )

[SoulBlazer]

(Well, what do you know -- one of my subs DID make contact! Darn dud torpedos, though. )


AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 08/01/42

Sub attack at 41,69

Japanese Ships
CL Naka, on fire

Allied Ships
SS Albacore

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Air attack on TF at 38,73


Allied aircraft
TBF Avenger x 11


no losses

Japanese Ships
CV Junyo, Torpedo hits 1, on fire, heavy damage


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on TF at 37,72


Allied aircraft
F4F-4 Wildcat x 12
SBD Dauntless x 28
TBD Devastator x 15


no losses

Japanese Ships
CV Zuikaku, Bomb hits 5, Torpedo hits 4, on fire, heavy damage
DD Takanami, Bomb hits 1, on fire


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(These were afternoon strikes -- the ones before were morning)


Air attack on TF at 40,72


Allied aircraft
SBD Dauntless x 14


no losses

Japanese Ships
CVL Zuiho, Bomb hits 1, on fire, heavy damage


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on TF at 37,72


Allied aircraft
F4F-4 Wildcat x 12
SBD Dauntless x 14
TBD Devastator x 15


no losses


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on TF at 37,72


Allied aircraft
TBF Avenger x 11


no losses


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(If only my darn planes had insisted on hitting the other ships! )

Yes, during the night phase, at the end of day two of the battle, I got sinking messages for all three carriers.

[SoulBlazer]

Holding

[Cap Mandrake]

As was now his custom, the former Lt. Hidaka, now POW B-246723, caused some excitement upon his arrival at the camp hostpital at the overcrowded POW in southern Luzon. It was really not so much a hospital, but more of a way station for the dieing. From dingy cots, even the moribund victims of beri beri, malaria or kwashiorkor took some comfort at the sight of the new patient, as even a dieing man can be buoyed by the sight of one whose condtion appears worse than his own. As it happened, the former Lt. Hidaka wasn't dieing. He just looked like it. His face was now disfigured, but his lungs had escaped injury in the inferno. He had emerged from his coma, but except for the capacity for ambulation and self-hygeine, he was like a blank slate. He neither spoke nor understood language. His amnesia for his former life was complete. He of course found no irony in his situation, a pilot heroicly and grievously injured in defense of the Emporer, his identity stolen from him by brain injury, now confined to a squalid POW camp for Allied POW's with brutal Japanese guards who regarded him less than a man because of his presumed dishonorable surrender.

Mischievously, the other hospital patients nicknamed him "Sparky" and the name stuck. He learned to help out with light duties in the hospital. Unable to look him in the face, the guards saved their abuse for the more able-bodied. Tediously, he was taught to speak English and by 1945 was able to speak passable English but still had no memory of events before his arrival at the camp. In 1945, MacArthur returned to the Phillipines and began to close in on the camp. The camp commander considered the execution of the prisoners before abandoning the camp. This might have been the end of Lt. Hidaka's strange story had MacArthur's staff not recognized this possiblity and sent in a Ranger company to seize the camp and rescue the POW's, which they accomplished with an improbable moonlight raid and a 6 mile hike to a beach for extraction.

The former Lt. Hidaka was shipped back to the Naval Hospital in Long Beach because his branch of service and of course his name could not be identified. Intrigued by the young man's ring, a naval officer went as far as to contact the wrestling coach at UCLA, who was still in his position. Other than two 1939 team members who had been killed in the war and postively identified, and one who had died of a stroke (the 320 lb. heavyweight from the team), all team members and even the equipment manager were in regular written or telphone communication with the coach (the coach was a friendly guy). Having reached a dead end, the investigating officer simply used the name "Sparky" to sign the young man up for veterans disability payments. Three years after his injury, the same enemy that had tried to extinguish his existence had now saved it three times.

A young psychiatrist at the Naval Hospital took an interest in "battle fatigue" cases and a particular interest in the former Lt Hidaka. To no avail, he tried to recreate his memory over a period of years with medicines or hypnotherapy. Having no true friends, the former Lt. Hidaka regarded the young psychiatrist as family. Strangely, the young psychiatrist began to feel a curious affinity toward the "battle fatigue" victim.

The tragedy that was Lt. Hidaka's life came to end in the summer of 1952, on a sunny afternoon in Venice, Calif. A beachside hot dog vendor was igniting a gas cylinder for cooking when there was a small explosion of fumes. Passing nearby, the former Lt. Hidaka screamed out in terrified, but flawless Japanese, "Get out..Get out". As he recoiled from the small fire, he was struck and killed by a passing car. The police located his small apartment. In the closet there was a small bag with a few pictures, a modicum of cash, some other valuables and a note. The note read "If I am hurt please give my things to my friend at the Hospital and tell him I am hurt because I will not be able to. He is a doctor at...".

When the detective gave the bag of valuables and the note to the young psychiatrist, the young doctor was touched by his patient's gesture. He felt both a professional loss for not having cured his amnesia, but also a personal loss. He dumped the bag's contents onto his desk. Underneath some folding money was a gold object that caught his attention. He brushed aside the money to reveal a 1939 UCLA wrestling championship ring. The young psychiatrist, Cdr. Akiro Hidaka MD, USN, former resident of Manzanar Relocation camp, former collegiate wrestler and brother to a former pilot in the Imperial Japanese Navy grasped his chair to steady himself.

[SoulBlazer]

Thanks to the Cap, and holding again!