The little ship that could.
Moderators: wdolson, MOD_War-in-the-Pacific-Admirals-Edition
RE: ouch
Zuiho arrives back alongside late that evening.
It is strange, thinks Hidaka, as he watches the activity of getting her alongside, the men streaming ashore again to resume an interupted leave, that here we are, annoyed over today. yet, a mere 100 miles or so away, brave, brave men are probably still struggling in the water.
And we give them not a thought.
War is such a cruel thing
But that is its nature ney?
Some live, some die.
And some of us go ashore, to grab what pleasures we can, while we still can.
It is strange, thinks Hidaka, as he watches the activity of getting her alongside, the men streaming ashore again to resume an interupted leave, that here we are, annoyed over today. yet, a mere 100 miles or so away, brave, brave men are probably still struggling in the water.
And we give them not a thought.
War is such a cruel thing
But that is its nature ney?
Some live, some die.
And some of us go ashore, to grab what pleasures we can, while we still can.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
23/10/42
Extract from "shattering the sword" a cantona publication
America is on her heels. Down, but not quite out. Japan is preparing for that final killer blow, frantically gathering her ships for that one last effort to put lady liberty away forever.
But now, in her darkest hour, the bulldog comes to her aid, snapping and snarling at Japans heels.
The carrier strike at Port Blair is, simply, brilliant.
It is launched with stunning surprise, with esquisite timing.
The poor battered pre WW1 cruiser Tokiwa goes down, as do three small escorts
Only 2 APs are sunk.
Only two
7000 men go down with them, the entire 55th regiment.
Think this. How many men are involved in this war?
What is at stake?
As brutal as this is, what is a regiment in the scheme of things?
Apparently a great deal.
We now know that Combined fleet was to strike pearl harbour.
Within 24 hours, the orders change. By months end, Zuikaku will be repaired. Combined fleet is ordered to the Indian Ocean
It is sent, and every mile of the journey, its Admiral will wonder. Once there, what in the hell will he do?
Extract from "shattering the sword" a cantona publication
America is on her heels. Down, but not quite out. Japan is preparing for that final killer blow, frantically gathering her ships for that one last effort to put lady liberty away forever.
But now, in her darkest hour, the bulldog comes to her aid, snapping and snarling at Japans heels.
The carrier strike at Port Blair is, simply, brilliant.
It is launched with stunning surprise, with esquisite timing.
The poor battered pre WW1 cruiser Tokiwa goes down, as do three small escorts
Only 2 APs are sunk.
Only two
7000 men go down with them, the entire 55th regiment.
Think this. How many men are involved in this war?
What is at stake?
As brutal as this is, what is a regiment in the scheme of things?
Apparently a great deal.
We now know that Combined fleet was to strike pearl harbour.
Within 24 hours, the orders change. By months end, Zuikaku will be repaired. Combined fleet is ordered to the Indian Ocean
It is sent, and every mile of the journey, its Admiral will wonder. Once there, what in the hell will he do?
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
24/10/42
The ready room, like most of the ship, is very quiet.
Diogawa doses in one corner, nursing a sore head, and an empty wallet. Pay day is still two days away.
Being broke whilst alongside is always sad.
Being broke whilst alongside in a Japanese port is a tragedy.
Hidaka enters the ready room, and one eye of Diogawa’s opens, half hopeful of something to break the monotony.
Much to his surprise, his wish is answered
“How would you like to do some flying this afternoon?”
Both eyes open………..and he struggles erect in the chair
‘Ey?”
‘I have just been over to Hiyo, she’s about a week away. Met their new pilots..”
There is something in the way he leaves that hanging
‘And?”
‘Raw, bloody raw actually,. Hardly 30 or 40 hours each, if that”
“You must be joking”
‘No, no I am not.”
Hidaka stirs some tea. “So, I offered our services. As soon as you are ready we can go across. There are some birds at Yokahama we can borrow. “
His face lights up, there is almost a touch of glee…….”I thought some mock dog fights might get your fancy”
‘beer afterwards you think?’
‘Of course”
‘Woof, woof!, I am in!”
25/10/42
Over Yokahama, Hidaka, Diogawa, and another veteran, Nakahara (6 kills) “tangle” with Hiyo’s rebuilt airgroup.
The results are not pretty.
Hidaka will return to Zuiho deeply disturbed. Somehow,, they must train these raw men, and quickly.
Thank the heavens the Zero remained such a dominant fighter…………
80 miles West of Lae, 12000 feet over green hell
It had started as a skirmish, then as onlookers got drawn in, grown to a fight.
Now, here over the backbone of PNG, the brawl is in full fury
There is a Tiger painted on the side of the Tojo now, a great snarling character, teeth exposed in a savage snarl.
It is 47th’s emblem.
And 47th sentai is in the thick of it now.
They circle, some six of them, and wait for the next dive from above.
Fuchida sweats, the sun pounding through the canopy, defeating the ventilation streaming in.
‘Come on you barsteds, lets see what you have got”
The P38’s, so far above, answer, wings glinting in the sky as they peel over, and thunder down upon them
Timing, timing, enemy sliding in, sliding in, growing, growing, and stick hard up and into the thigh, rudder hard, hard, kick, kick, and reverse, reverse, sky and earth and sun rotating around, and around, engines snarling, roaring even above the howl of his plane, , guns chattering, chattering, over the barsted, and winging onto him, shock, heavens!,, he dives so fast!, so fast, a desperate squeeze of the trigger, too far!, too far, and pull away, even as they pull up too, and are gone.
Damnation, they are fast!
He climbs, seeking friends, passes through scattered clouds……….fuel?, getting low, time for home.
Black dots approaching……….the boys of the 87th….careful lads, its hot up here in more ways than one.
Damnation…………they were fast.
Lae, pissant place they call home……..
The fighter bounces hard on landing.
Engine off.
Silence.
And everything aches………..and his right leg just will not stop trembling……..
The crew chief leans in, helping with the straps, a canteen, oh so welcome, at the ready
“’Are we all home?’
The pause, the negative shake.
‘We are missing two………..”
damnation, they are so big, so fast………..so tough.
Face that in a zero?
No thanks.
The ready room, like most of the ship, is very quiet.
Diogawa doses in one corner, nursing a sore head, and an empty wallet. Pay day is still two days away.
Being broke whilst alongside is always sad.
Being broke whilst alongside in a Japanese port is a tragedy.
Hidaka enters the ready room, and one eye of Diogawa’s opens, half hopeful of something to break the monotony.
Much to his surprise, his wish is answered
“How would you like to do some flying this afternoon?”
Both eyes open………..and he struggles erect in the chair
‘Ey?”
‘I have just been over to Hiyo, she’s about a week away. Met their new pilots..”
There is something in the way he leaves that hanging
‘And?”
‘Raw, bloody raw actually,. Hardly 30 or 40 hours each, if that”
“You must be joking”
‘No, no I am not.”
Hidaka stirs some tea. “So, I offered our services. As soon as you are ready we can go across. There are some birds at Yokahama we can borrow. “
His face lights up, there is almost a touch of glee…….”I thought some mock dog fights might get your fancy”
‘beer afterwards you think?’
‘Of course”
‘Woof, woof!, I am in!”
25/10/42
Over Yokahama, Hidaka, Diogawa, and another veteran, Nakahara (6 kills) “tangle” with Hiyo’s rebuilt airgroup.
The results are not pretty.
Hidaka will return to Zuiho deeply disturbed. Somehow,, they must train these raw men, and quickly.
Thank the heavens the Zero remained such a dominant fighter…………
80 miles West of Lae, 12000 feet over green hell
It had started as a skirmish, then as onlookers got drawn in, grown to a fight.
Now, here over the backbone of PNG, the brawl is in full fury
There is a Tiger painted on the side of the Tojo now, a great snarling character, teeth exposed in a savage snarl.
It is 47th’s emblem.
And 47th sentai is in the thick of it now.
They circle, some six of them, and wait for the next dive from above.
Fuchida sweats, the sun pounding through the canopy, defeating the ventilation streaming in.
‘Come on you barsteds, lets see what you have got”
The P38’s, so far above, answer, wings glinting in the sky as they peel over, and thunder down upon them
Timing, timing, enemy sliding in, sliding in, growing, growing, and stick hard up and into the thigh, rudder hard, hard, kick, kick, and reverse, reverse, sky and earth and sun rotating around, and around, engines snarling, roaring even above the howl of his plane, , guns chattering, chattering, over the barsted, and winging onto him, shock, heavens!,, he dives so fast!, so fast, a desperate squeeze of the trigger, too far!, too far, and pull away, even as they pull up too, and are gone.
Damnation, they are fast!
He climbs, seeking friends, passes through scattered clouds……….fuel?, getting low, time for home.
Black dots approaching……….the boys of the 87th….careful lads, its hot up here in more ways than one.
Damnation…………they were fast.
Lae, pissant place they call home……..
The fighter bounces hard on landing.
Engine off.
Silence.
And everything aches………..and his right leg just will not stop trembling……..
The crew chief leans in, helping with the straps, a canteen, oh so welcome, at the ready
“’Are we all home?’
The pause, the negative shake.
‘We are missing two………..”
damnation, they are so big, so fast………..so tough.
Face that in a zero?
No thanks.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
27/10/42
The Charge pauses outside the naval gates.
It is raining, and evening is falling. It is getting cold too, winter is rushing forward.
It has been a very good leave.
For ten days, he has not thought of her once.
Not once.
Will she forgive him?
Now, as he passes through, walks the long walk down the dock, he takes her into his gaze again.
She really has such an ugly arse.
Under the lights of the dock, she looks presentable, the dark hiding so many of her thaws.
He climbs the gangway, the Quarter master, shivering, nods a greeting.
“Welcome back Chief”
‘A quiet week yes?”
The chief does not know of the little ‘excursion’
“Mostly Chief”
‘Good”
He takes his bag, and with it leading the way, he enters Zuiho’s warmth,.
What welcome will she give him?
There are two Stokers in the passageway, dipping a tank. They stand to attention as he passes. ‘Evening men, all good?’
‘Hie!”
Good, very good.
The mess is empty, as is the sleeping area. He packs away his kit, ears already automatically adjusting to the sounds about him, the beat of the fans, the stamp of feet above.
The door opens, another heavy bag entering. The CPO Chippie.
Greetings, brief.
Yes, leave was good. . No, going to go ashore again, last beers. News, no, none known.
Want to come?
Consideration…………….and the mind thinks of what tomorrow will bring.
This will have to be done, that too. And that as well
No, no thanks. The Charge will choose sleep instead.
The bed, as always, is uncomfortable.
He falls asleep immediately anyway.
Diogawa sleeps, rather tired from today’s flying. Mistakenly, he puts down all the ‘kills’ he has scored against Hiyo’s flyers to his skills.
Which is a pity.
The ready room is filling with returnees, all filled with stories of the time ashore.
Soon a poker game will begin.
The betting will be frantic, almost obscene.
Last nights before returning to the war can cause that.
Hidaka does not join them. He wanders the hanger, as he often does. The zeros gleam, as if new, in the harsh lights.
They have been good, these eagles. But this is war. And he wonders why he has not heard of a new model in the pipeline.
The Americans, he is sure, will not be standing still.
Still, the war is won, no?. One more blow. Just one more.
Gods, let me lead it this time.
Kato sleeps too. Not onboard yet, but in a motel some miles away
On the back of the door, his new uniform. Tomorrow, he will re join.
Then, his Divisions.
His.
Captains divisions
Then, then the mission.
And another chance at glory.
Zuiho sleeps
300 miles to the West, Engineers open great valves, commencing the process of re flooding this gigantic dock.
The waters flood in, green, black, cold.
They kiss Zuikaku’s bottom, rising above the fresh paint, the new steel.
In 4 hours time, she will slide out of the dock, and commence final preparations.
The war has paused for over a month now.
A long pause. Too long
Refurbished, refreshed, reformed.
A great way to approach 43
The Charge pauses outside the naval gates.
It is raining, and evening is falling. It is getting cold too, winter is rushing forward.
It has been a very good leave.
For ten days, he has not thought of her once.
Not once.
Will she forgive him?
Now, as he passes through, walks the long walk down the dock, he takes her into his gaze again.
She really has such an ugly arse.
Under the lights of the dock, she looks presentable, the dark hiding so many of her thaws.
He climbs the gangway, the Quarter master, shivering, nods a greeting.
“Welcome back Chief”
‘A quiet week yes?”
The chief does not know of the little ‘excursion’
“Mostly Chief”
‘Good”
He takes his bag, and with it leading the way, he enters Zuiho’s warmth,.
What welcome will she give him?
There are two Stokers in the passageway, dipping a tank. They stand to attention as he passes. ‘Evening men, all good?’
‘Hie!”
Good, very good.
The mess is empty, as is the sleeping area. He packs away his kit, ears already automatically adjusting to the sounds about him, the beat of the fans, the stamp of feet above.
The door opens, another heavy bag entering. The CPO Chippie.
Greetings, brief.
Yes, leave was good. . No, going to go ashore again, last beers. News, no, none known.
Want to come?
Consideration…………….and the mind thinks of what tomorrow will bring.
This will have to be done, that too. And that as well
No, no thanks. The Charge will choose sleep instead.
The bed, as always, is uncomfortable.
He falls asleep immediately anyway.
Diogawa sleeps, rather tired from today’s flying. Mistakenly, he puts down all the ‘kills’ he has scored against Hiyo’s flyers to his skills.
Which is a pity.
The ready room is filling with returnees, all filled with stories of the time ashore.
Soon a poker game will begin.
The betting will be frantic, almost obscene.
Last nights before returning to the war can cause that.
Hidaka does not join them. He wanders the hanger, as he often does. The zeros gleam, as if new, in the harsh lights.
They have been good, these eagles. But this is war. And he wonders why he has not heard of a new model in the pipeline.
The Americans, he is sure, will not be standing still.
Still, the war is won, no?. One more blow. Just one more.
Gods, let me lead it this time.
Kato sleeps too. Not onboard yet, but in a motel some miles away
On the back of the door, his new uniform. Tomorrow, he will re join.
Then, his Divisions.
His.
Captains divisions
Then, then the mission.
And another chance at glory.
Zuiho sleeps
300 miles to the West, Engineers open great valves, commencing the process of re flooding this gigantic dock.
The waters flood in, green, black, cold.
They kiss Zuikaku’s bottom, rising above the fresh paint, the new steel.
In 4 hours time, she will slide out of the dock, and commence final preparations.
The war has paused for over a month now.
A long pause. Too long
Refurbished, refreshed, reformed.
A great way to approach 43
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
29/10/42
Captains divisions.
According to custom, its an opportunity for the Captain to inspect his crew. To measure its discipline, to assess its dress.
To give awards, to address them.
To read, at times, the articles of war.
There is much that can be gleaned from Divisions.
The trumpets on Zuiho sound just after midday, and the crew assemble on the edge of the flight deck
Hidaka watches closely
When the call comes, how will they react, this crew?
‘Markers!”
The first men, the tall men, swiftly move to their positions.
Silence falls, only the wind whips across the deck, and uniform pant legs flutter.
A flag rises.
‘Hand fall in for divisions!”
Zuiho moves swiftly, almost eagerly.
No sloth
No reluctance
Men simply falling into rank efficiently, with , that most valuable asset.
With pride.
Inwardly Hidaka smiles
He has seen enough. Zuiho still has her edge.
Her men remain ready for battle.
Kato does not keep them waiting long.
He marches down the ranks swiftly, yet taking it all in.
Japans fleet, specifically, her carriers, rule the waves. Small as she is, Zuiho is part of that rule.
It is invisible, but all feel it.
Pride flows from them to him. And he feeds back his pleasure.
Small gestures. The crisp nods, the salutes millimeter correct.
Divisions go well.
At the end, as tradition states, he addresses them.
It is, to them, to this crew who still are learning about their new father, a brutally good speech.
‘Zuiho. We sail at midnight. Our orders are simple. We hunt”
By 0300 hrs, task force 169 , 3cvl, 2 ca, 8 dd strong, slips Tokyo bay, and heads south
From Soerabaya, a CVL, and 3CVE slip anchor, and head for the Indian ocean wastes.
And from Hiroshima, KB too tastes the vast pacific swell, heading south west.
Japan lets lose her dogs of war.
Captains divisions.
According to custom, its an opportunity for the Captain to inspect his crew. To measure its discipline, to assess its dress.
To give awards, to address them.
To read, at times, the articles of war.
There is much that can be gleaned from Divisions.
The trumpets on Zuiho sound just after midday, and the crew assemble on the edge of the flight deck
Hidaka watches closely
When the call comes, how will they react, this crew?
‘Markers!”
The first men, the tall men, swiftly move to their positions.
Silence falls, only the wind whips across the deck, and uniform pant legs flutter.
A flag rises.
‘Hand fall in for divisions!”
Zuiho moves swiftly, almost eagerly.
No sloth
No reluctance
Men simply falling into rank efficiently, with , that most valuable asset.
With pride.
Inwardly Hidaka smiles
He has seen enough. Zuiho still has her edge.
Her men remain ready for battle.
Kato does not keep them waiting long.
He marches down the ranks swiftly, yet taking it all in.
Japans fleet, specifically, her carriers, rule the waves. Small as she is, Zuiho is part of that rule.
It is invisible, but all feel it.
Pride flows from them to him. And he feeds back his pleasure.
Small gestures. The crisp nods, the salutes millimeter correct.
Divisions go well.
At the end, as tradition states, he addresses them.
It is, to them, to this crew who still are learning about their new father, a brutally good speech.
‘Zuiho. We sail at midnight. Our orders are simple. We hunt”
By 0300 hrs, task force 169 , 3cvl, 2 ca, 8 dd strong, slips Tokyo bay, and heads south
From Soerabaya, a CVL, and 3CVE slip anchor, and head for the Indian ocean wastes.
And from Hiroshima, KB too tastes the vast pacific swell, heading south west.
Japan lets lose her dogs of war.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
High John 3rd, you blood thirsty devil!
(patience mate..........there will be blood again..........soon[:'(])
sorry for this post, slightly drunk to be honest....................
30/10/42
There is never total quiet on a ship.
Never
Even a ship de commissioned, laid up, tied up and left to die a slow rusting lingering death, verbally protests here fate through creaking mooring ropes, or the inevitable drip, drip of water seeping, like cancer, into he bowels.
Zuiho steams south, the usual canopy of noise, the never ending whine of the forced draft blowers, the hiss of the sea against her flanks, the clang of hatches being closed or opened.
Zuiho travels south in her usual bandstand way.
But she IS quiet. Her men, as all men are on this the first day out, are quiet.
They speak little. Exchange little.
‘How was your leave?’
“Good” and that is a long conversation this day.
800 minds are turned inwards today.
Thinking of home, of what is, what was, what will come
There is a war on.
What if they never see home again?
What then?
What of those left behind?
Sailors have left home for thousands of years now. But mostly, today counts as day one of X days until “I will see you soon, my love”
But war leaves a question on that X.
Maybe I will se you soon…….X
Or maybe, maybe, fate says, I will never see you again………………..
So mens minds turn inwards
Zuiho travels south
Quietly
(patience mate..........there will be blood again..........soon[:'(])
sorry for this post, slightly drunk to be honest....................
30/10/42
There is never total quiet on a ship.
Never
Even a ship de commissioned, laid up, tied up and left to die a slow rusting lingering death, verbally protests here fate through creaking mooring ropes, or the inevitable drip, drip of water seeping, like cancer, into he bowels.
Zuiho steams south, the usual canopy of noise, the never ending whine of the forced draft blowers, the hiss of the sea against her flanks, the clang of hatches being closed or opened.
Zuiho travels south in her usual bandstand way.
But she IS quiet. Her men, as all men are on this the first day out, are quiet.
They speak little. Exchange little.
‘How was your leave?’
“Good” and that is a long conversation this day.
800 minds are turned inwards today.
Thinking of home, of what is, what was, what will come
There is a war on.
What if they never see home again?
What then?
What of those left behind?
Sailors have left home for thousands of years now. But mostly, today counts as day one of X days until “I will see you soon, my love”
But war leaves a question on that X.
Maybe I will se you soon…….X
Or maybe, maybe, fate says, I will never see you again………………..
So mens minds turn inwards
Zuiho travels south
Quietly
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
1300 hours
1/11/42
Zuiho’s bridge is in the usual routine, her officers busy maintaining her position in the squadron.
Above them, on the flight deck, 3 Kates are warming up, fat black bombs strapped to pale bottoms.
A well oiled machine, Zuihos deck crews bustle about, casual in the supreme confidence they now have in themselves.
Around them the ocean literally sparkles, the sun blazing its surface into billions of diamonds. They steam south, a fine sight. A strong sight.
These are Japans seas.
Kato wanders quietly onto the bridge.
He considers his men for a few minutes, calculating, assessing.
You have gotten used to me already, my children. Comfortable with me. Comfortable with this ship, this role we play.
Too damn comfortable.
War is not comfortable
War is hard
Almost casually he speaks. “For exercise. Enemy dive bombers approaching, range ten miles, from the east… action stations”
And now, let us see how we perform………
The claxons ring
Below, Tan turns to the charge, and grins. The Charge is teaching Tan the intricacies of Zuiho’s fuel systems, the pipes, the pumps, the fuel heaters .
‘I was surprised Kato did not pull this little stunt yesterday”
The Charge grins back. ‘Fifty yen, we don’t do it fast enough!”
‘No way I am taking that on Chief……..get em closed up as fast as you can!’
“OH CRAP!” Diogawa’s cry is genuine and heartfelt. The claxon has brought him to his feet abruptly, his dinner has failed to follow.
For a moment he stares in horror at the fish soup spreading all down the front of his flying suit : so bloody tasty too!
He is brought crashing back to reality by Hidaka’s yells ‘Scramble, scramble!, get your fat arses on deck!, bombers inbound!”
Diogawa gives one last despairing glance his way, as if to say, you are kidding right?, you want me to fly stinking of fish?, and then he is joining the mad scramble for the flight deck.
Hirate is asleep. Was asleep. Is now up, hunting for those goddam boots, scrambling in his locker for his torch, being buffeted by dozens of others all too trying to “get their S@#t together’
As always, the heart is racing………submarine attack?, dive bomber attack?, what the hell is happening this time?
He will have a hard fight to get to his station, (forward today), through so many hatches, up so many ladders.
He has two minutes to do it…………
“Ship closed at action stations sir”
Kato snaps the question, his body braced against the hard turn Zuiho is conducting, her snout seeking the wind
‘How long to fighter launch?’
“Commencing launch now sir!’
He turns to Hidaka…. “How long flight officer?”
“Seven minutes sir”
Too long Hidaka. We are dead men. You think nothing can get us here, and you have not one, not a one, fighter on deck.
You are good Hidaka, battle hardened. But you grow complacent..
‘Too long flight Officer Hidaka, too long”
The reproach is a missile across the bridge.
Delivered across the bows of so many enlisted men too………….
Coldly, Kato turns his face towards Zuiho’s bow.
Hands meet behind back. Heels bounce, legs stiffen. “fall out from action stations. We will do this again”
And they do
Again
And again
And yet again
1/11/42
Zuiho’s bridge is in the usual routine, her officers busy maintaining her position in the squadron.
Above them, on the flight deck, 3 Kates are warming up, fat black bombs strapped to pale bottoms.
A well oiled machine, Zuihos deck crews bustle about, casual in the supreme confidence they now have in themselves.
Around them the ocean literally sparkles, the sun blazing its surface into billions of diamonds. They steam south, a fine sight. A strong sight.
These are Japans seas.
Kato wanders quietly onto the bridge.
He considers his men for a few minutes, calculating, assessing.
You have gotten used to me already, my children. Comfortable with me. Comfortable with this ship, this role we play.
Too damn comfortable.
War is not comfortable
War is hard
Almost casually he speaks. “For exercise. Enemy dive bombers approaching, range ten miles, from the east… action stations”
And now, let us see how we perform………
The claxons ring
Below, Tan turns to the charge, and grins. The Charge is teaching Tan the intricacies of Zuiho’s fuel systems, the pipes, the pumps, the fuel heaters .
‘I was surprised Kato did not pull this little stunt yesterday”
The Charge grins back. ‘Fifty yen, we don’t do it fast enough!”
‘No way I am taking that on Chief……..get em closed up as fast as you can!’
“OH CRAP!” Diogawa’s cry is genuine and heartfelt. The claxon has brought him to his feet abruptly, his dinner has failed to follow.
For a moment he stares in horror at the fish soup spreading all down the front of his flying suit : so bloody tasty too!
He is brought crashing back to reality by Hidaka’s yells ‘Scramble, scramble!, get your fat arses on deck!, bombers inbound!”
Diogawa gives one last despairing glance his way, as if to say, you are kidding right?, you want me to fly stinking of fish?, and then he is joining the mad scramble for the flight deck.
Hirate is asleep. Was asleep. Is now up, hunting for those goddam boots, scrambling in his locker for his torch, being buffeted by dozens of others all too trying to “get their S@#t together’
As always, the heart is racing………submarine attack?, dive bomber attack?, what the hell is happening this time?
He will have a hard fight to get to his station, (forward today), through so many hatches, up so many ladders.
He has two minutes to do it…………
“Ship closed at action stations sir”
Kato snaps the question, his body braced against the hard turn Zuiho is conducting, her snout seeking the wind
‘How long to fighter launch?’
“Commencing launch now sir!’
He turns to Hidaka…. “How long flight officer?”
“Seven minutes sir”
Too long Hidaka. We are dead men. You think nothing can get us here, and you have not one, not a one, fighter on deck.
You are good Hidaka, battle hardened. But you grow complacent..
‘Too long flight Officer Hidaka, too long”
The reproach is a missile across the bridge.
Delivered across the bows of so many enlisted men too………….
Coldly, Kato turns his face towards Zuiho’s bow.
Hands meet behind back. Heels bounce, legs stiffen. “fall out from action stations. We will do this again”
And they do
Again
And again
And yet again
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
-
british exil
- Posts: 1686
- Joined: Thu May 04, 2006 6:26 pm
- Location: Lower Saxony Germany
RE: ouch
If Kato was an Inf officer, I would be expecting/fearing a fragging sooner or later. Did anything like a fragging ever happen in a Navy?
Mat
Mat
"It is not enough to expect a man to pay for the best, you must also give him what he pays for." Alfred Dunhill
WitE,UV,AT,ATG,FoF,FPCRS
WitE,UV,AT,ATG,FoF,FPCRS
RE: ouch
In japans Navy
Unthinkable
Duty
Honour
Total obedience
That is Kato's creed.
yet, ironically, Japans upper military class was renowned for plotting, scheming against each other. And willful disobedience against the high command (if you were far enough up the tree) was seen as a good promotion tactic!
next posting soon
All commentrs more than welcome!........i am catching up now, so I reckon Cantona's AAR and mine together should reflect things a little more now
Unthinkable
Duty
Honour
Total obedience
That is Kato's creed.
yet, ironically, Japans upper military class was renowned for plotting, scheming against each other. And willful disobedience against the high command (if you were far enough up the tree) was seen as a good promotion tactic!
next posting soon
All commentrs more than welcome!........i am catching up now, so I reckon Cantona's AAR and mine together should reflect things a little more now
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
2/11/42
They do it how they have always done it.
Silently, without fuss or fan fare, the low grey sharks slip moorings, and with clouds of black exhaust belching, begin the journey across Truk lagoon.
There are just 6 of them, but all six are of the large I class, and in each, the small seaplanes rest, waiting for their chance.
The silent service, once again is leading the way
What lies at Narua?, at Tarawa now?
Go, go and find out.
Below decks, Zuiho is a mess.
Tired men are battling with fire hoses, with damage control gear. All day they have been “fighting fires”, fighting floods, fighting famine.
As Hirate wearily remarks to Okano, “Zuiho is a battleship, did you know that, a Yamato in disguise!”. According to their calculations, she floats still after a mere 10 ‘hits’
It has been a while, too long, since her damage control training has been stressed so severely.
Tan sits in Damage Control central.
He is, too be blunt, in shock.
Training in Japan has totally under prepared him for this.
A single hit, even two, he can handle……….
The damage control board stares back at him, covered in a hundred China graph drawings, circles, remarks.
A perfect picture of his failure……………
The Charge enters Damage Control, stands beside him, admires the picture.
Silently thanks the Gods that all he has to do is keep the engines going.
(as usual, the engine rooms have been remarkably bomb proof, no way they will be “hit’ when the task force has a schedule to keep)
“A tough one Sir?’
Tan sighs. ‘You know, I once had a derailment in a tunnel. I thought that was tough to sort out. This, this Chief……….
‘You will get the hang of it Sir, really, I thought it went OK”
I wish I could believe you Charge…some how I know what Kato thinks. Putting a Uniform on an engineer does not automatically make him a sailor. Heavens, to be blessed with a lifetime of experience doing this Crap……
I must do better. I must.
“ I am sure Kato is going to give us more practice Chief.”
He is, of course, right.
Hidaka reads the dispatch
Earlier today, a destroyer has come alongside, and a light transfer has occurred.
The heavy black bag (weighted to sink immediately if lost in the ocean) contains operational orders from the Flagship
Captain Beppu of Hiyo wastes little words.
‘Upon refueling Truk, this task force shall strike Mili, suppress enemy activity, then conduct anti convoy activities to the east of the Gilberts.
Our actions will be co ordinated with 1st fleet action against Narua island, and other planned offensive operations”
Hidaka contemplates the orders.
Once again, it appears, they will be the point of the spear.
And then he thinks of the skill levels of Hiyo’s, Shoho’s fighter pilots.
It is not a pleasant thought.
Hosho lies on his back, contemplating the skies above
He is resting under a large palm tree, and life is good.
Good as it can get, really.
112the regiment rests deep in the rear areas of Burma front, in reserve.
Apparently, if the rumors are correct, the Division is being rebuilt.
55th division will then move to reserve , a guard against the left flank.
It really is a good rumor.
High, high over head, Japanese fighters are filling the sky with a steady, steady roar.
Ban, his ever present friend, lies beside him
“how many do you count now?’
Hosho internally calculates. ‘That’s over 100 so far”
Ban whistles. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?”
Hosho turns to him, and grins. “That’s only for us officer types to know my friend”
Ban grins back. ‘Even I can tell this though, that many planes means something is up”
Yes, thinks Hosho, yes it does. That will be the end of the good times I would think……
He lies back, closes his eyes.
But until then, what is a soldier to do?
”
They do it how they have always done it.
Silently, without fuss or fan fare, the low grey sharks slip moorings, and with clouds of black exhaust belching, begin the journey across Truk lagoon.
There are just 6 of them, but all six are of the large I class, and in each, the small seaplanes rest, waiting for their chance.
The silent service, once again is leading the way
What lies at Narua?, at Tarawa now?
Go, go and find out.
Below decks, Zuiho is a mess.
Tired men are battling with fire hoses, with damage control gear. All day they have been “fighting fires”, fighting floods, fighting famine.
As Hirate wearily remarks to Okano, “Zuiho is a battleship, did you know that, a Yamato in disguise!”. According to their calculations, she floats still after a mere 10 ‘hits’
It has been a while, too long, since her damage control training has been stressed so severely.
Tan sits in Damage Control central.
He is, too be blunt, in shock.
Training in Japan has totally under prepared him for this.
A single hit, even two, he can handle……….
The damage control board stares back at him, covered in a hundred China graph drawings, circles, remarks.
A perfect picture of his failure……………
The Charge enters Damage Control, stands beside him, admires the picture.
Silently thanks the Gods that all he has to do is keep the engines going.
(as usual, the engine rooms have been remarkably bomb proof, no way they will be “hit’ when the task force has a schedule to keep)
“A tough one Sir?’
Tan sighs. ‘You know, I once had a derailment in a tunnel. I thought that was tough to sort out. This, this Chief……….
‘You will get the hang of it Sir, really, I thought it went OK”
I wish I could believe you Charge…some how I know what Kato thinks. Putting a Uniform on an engineer does not automatically make him a sailor. Heavens, to be blessed with a lifetime of experience doing this Crap……
I must do better. I must.
“ I am sure Kato is going to give us more practice Chief.”
He is, of course, right.
Hidaka reads the dispatch
Earlier today, a destroyer has come alongside, and a light transfer has occurred.
The heavy black bag (weighted to sink immediately if lost in the ocean) contains operational orders from the Flagship
Captain Beppu of Hiyo wastes little words.
‘Upon refueling Truk, this task force shall strike Mili, suppress enemy activity, then conduct anti convoy activities to the east of the Gilberts.
Our actions will be co ordinated with 1st fleet action against Narua island, and other planned offensive operations”
Hidaka contemplates the orders.
Once again, it appears, they will be the point of the spear.
And then he thinks of the skill levels of Hiyo’s, Shoho’s fighter pilots.
It is not a pleasant thought.
Hosho lies on his back, contemplating the skies above
He is resting under a large palm tree, and life is good.
Good as it can get, really.
112the regiment rests deep in the rear areas of Burma front, in reserve.
Apparently, if the rumors are correct, the Division is being rebuilt.
55th division will then move to reserve , a guard against the left flank.
It really is a good rumor.
High, high over head, Japanese fighters are filling the sky with a steady, steady roar.
Ban, his ever present friend, lies beside him
“how many do you count now?’
Hosho internally calculates. ‘That’s over 100 so far”
Ban whistles. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?”
Hosho turns to him, and grins. “That’s only for us officer types to know my friend”
Ban grins back. ‘Even I can tell this though, that many planes means something is up”
Yes, thinks Hosho, yes it does. That will be the end of the good times I would think……
He lies back, closes his eyes.
But until then, what is a soldier to do?
”
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
Thats correct, one only lost, Ryhujo? arrives in 20 days to replace her
I have no idea (as I hardly ever play allies) of what enemy carrier strength would be now.
Wasp confirmed sunk this week (there was some minor doubt in my mind), so all 6 originals definately gone
3/11/42
Once a week, Herbiesan ‘fronts’ the press
For a dictator ship, the press still has some, albeit limited, freedom.
Surrounded by syncopates, all unwilling to pass bad news, the press, at times can be a good heads up for him when trouble is brewing.
But today, as the weekly brief comes near completion (more air victories in Burma, a Army winning in China) there comes a question that was not meant to be asked, not in the scrip.
‘Is it true sir, that Port Moresby is lost to our airforce?”
For a moment, he must think. OK, the news has leaked. But losses do happen, yes?
But Port Moresby is no where.
Smile then, wave your hand dismissively.
Answer, as always with that face that says…………trust me.
‘No, not really. We have re deployed to areas of greater risk. Port Moresby is secure….”
Now, where did that little man get that news?
There can be only one answer………Yamamoto.
The man in herbiesans thoughts is currently in Naval Headquarters, once again contemplating the map.
To say it fills him with unease, anger even, is an understatement
Yamaguchi is breaking the Cardinal rule!
He has scattered his fleet to the four winds!
And to achieve what!?
Light carriers blundering around in the Indian ocean, have they even seen anything?
NO.
So what can they achieve?
More light carriers near Truk. Fine ships, but what can they do too?
Little surely
And Combined fleet?.
For the Indian ocean as well?
Some how he senses that a window is open, but a window of opportunity that is closing fast
His knuckles whiten. We should have gathered everything we have….and gone for the heart.
I have to get back into this war, I have to.
For Japans sake, I must.
Tan is ‘learning the systems’
It is a task every stoker must do, has done, will do forever, ahmen
Follow the pipes, every twist, every turn, every valve. Note every valve, sketch them roughly, and then later, draw them in precise fashion.
It is the only way to learn your ship.
Tan, with a keen eye, proceeds quickly. He has the knack, this pipe is a drain pipe, well we know where that goes, this is a main line, better follow it closely.
Ah yes, here is the end, so that’s what it does, it’s a heater steam supply!
What a week ago seemed incomprehensible, is now rapidly falling into place.
Something else though, is also happening.
As Zuiho’s Engineer crawls around the spaces, gets dirty, sweaty as any other man down here, his men take note.
Minobe would never have done this.
Never.
But here, here is an Engineer who soon will know, really know, what happens under him.
And men will follow those who know what to do over anything.
I have no idea (as I hardly ever play allies) of what enemy carrier strength would be now.
Wasp confirmed sunk this week (there was some minor doubt in my mind), so all 6 originals definately gone
3/11/42
Once a week, Herbiesan ‘fronts’ the press
For a dictator ship, the press still has some, albeit limited, freedom.
Surrounded by syncopates, all unwilling to pass bad news, the press, at times can be a good heads up for him when trouble is brewing.
But today, as the weekly brief comes near completion (more air victories in Burma, a Army winning in China) there comes a question that was not meant to be asked, not in the scrip.
‘Is it true sir, that Port Moresby is lost to our airforce?”
For a moment, he must think. OK, the news has leaked. But losses do happen, yes?
But Port Moresby is no where.
Smile then, wave your hand dismissively.
Answer, as always with that face that says…………trust me.
‘No, not really. We have re deployed to areas of greater risk. Port Moresby is secure….”
Now, where did that little man get that news?
There can be only one answer………Yamamoto.
The man in herbiesans thoughts is currently in Naval Headquarters, once again contemplating the map.
To say it fills him with unease, anger even, is an understatement
Yamaguchi is breaking the Cardinal rule!
He has scattered his fleet to the four winds!
And to achieve what!?
Light carriers blundering around in the Indian ocean, have they even seen anything?
NO.
So what can they achieve?
More light carriers near Truk. Fine ships, but what can they do too?
Little surely
And Combined fleet?.
For the Indian ocean as well?
Some how he senses that a window is open, but a window of opportunity that is closing fast
His knuckles whiten. We should have gathered everything we have….and gone for the heart.
I have to get back into this war, I have to.
For Japans sake, I must.
Tan is ‘learning the systems’
It is a task every stoker must do, has done, will do forever, ahmen
Follow the pipes, every twist, every turn, every valve. Note every valve, sketch them roughly, and then later, draw them in precise fashion.
It is the only way to learn your ship.
Tan, with a keen eye, proceeds quickly. He has the knack, this pipe is a drain pipe, well we know where that goes, this is a main line, better follow it closely.
Ah yes, here is the end, so that’s what it does, it’s a heater steam supply!
What a week ago seemed incomprehensible, is now rapidly falling into place.
Something else though, is also happening.
As Zuiho’s Engineer crawls around the spaces, gets dirty, sweaty as any other man down here, his men take note.
Minobe would never have done this.
Never.
But here, here is an Engineer who soon will know, really know, what happens under him.
And men will follow those who know what to do over anything.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: ouch
Help, I cannot get Chitose, Chiyoda to convert!
OK, for those that are following, thankyou for patience.
Please pre order pop corn
We are roughly a week away from more action.
And a lot more blood……………….
(Zuiho system damage jumps 2 points overnight)
4/11/42
“Lieutenant Hidaka requested bridge”
Hidaka finds Kato on the starboard bridge wing, staring at the other two carriers .
They steam at 5000 metre intervals, from here the fighters and bombers circling their decks look like toys, wings glinting in today’s harsh sun
Hidaka steels himself.
Kato has taken to the habit of delivering his rebukes to his officers here, where few can over hear.
Hidaka wonders what he has failed to do this time.
But there is no rebuke today.
The cold eyes turn to him, then back to the two flight decks abreast of them.
“We have received our orders Hidaka. Truk, refuel. Then First fleet sail , and we are to strike Mili atoll. Apparently Captain Beppu places his faith in you to organize the strike. He says, and I quote, admiring your experience and boldness, we will follow your plan”
Hidaka remains silent. But a course of pleasure does pass through him.
Kato points at three kate bombers passing overhead. ‘I want your honest opinion of the abilities of our airgroups”
Our air groups. Not mine. His.
Just because you can fly………..
“Hiyo’s Kates, vals, are good. The fighters are terrible. Shoho: fair kates, terrible fighters too. They lost heavily last time”
‘And our men”
‘The best sir. The very best”
Kato does not look him in the eye, continues to stare at the sea. “Mili will have defences.. I will not waste our bombers on that target. Nor my fighters.
Not to make quickly re filled holes
The first wave will be filled by rookies, Let them pave the way. Keep the experienced bombers back, we will find targets I am sure more worthy of their lives”
Hidaka cannot answer.
You are one cold barsted………..
But, and the military man inside him can see the logic. They must raise the experience levels of the pilots, and quickly.
There is no quicker way than in battle…………
It has been a good run, but now, as sweat pours into his eyes, streams down his face, the Charge can sense that maybe the good run is done.
Each boiler room has two fuel pumps, great gangly reciprocating things, that have maintained a steady beat for nearly a year now.
They are actually favorites of many of the men.
Take the asbestos cover off the top, and the Piston head is revealed, a lovely bowl shaped objective.
How many eggs fried on that over the years?
Others simply like the beat, others fascinated by the sophistication of the con rods, the valve gears, the cams,.
Some , he thinks, probably even find them vaguely romantic, throw backs to an earlier age.
The Charge simply likes them for their reliability.
Until now.
The Port outer pump is dead. Water is draining plaintively down her sides, and an evil, burnt oil smell is emitting from her gutzs.
The con rod is broken clean through, and the suspicion is very rapidly hardening in his mind that the piston is seized up there.
Damnation
‘’Its Truked Hirate, you’ve killed my baby”
Hirate smiles, he knows the jibe is in jest
‘It made a lovely bang chief”
‘Lovely my arse”
He stands. Yes, the good run is finished. Another challenge then.
‘Isolate her out, and get the tools. Lets get her open, and see what you have blood well done”
The charge leaves, seeking Tan, who is somewhere in the port engine room bilges. He gives the other pump a glance, as if warning it to behave. Fuel pump failures are awkward, there is no way you can cross connect them.
OK, for those that are following, thankyou for patience.
Please pre order pop corn
We are roughly a week away from more action.
And a lot more blood……………….
(Zuiho system damage jumps 2 points overnight)
4/11/42
“Lieutenant Hidaka requested bridge”
Hidaka finds Kato on the starboard bridge wing, staring at the other two carriers .
They steam at 5000 metre intervals, from here the fighters and bombers circling their decks look like toys, wings glinting in today’s harsh sun
Hidaka steels himself.
Kato has taken to the habit of delivering his rebukes to his officers here, where few can over hear.
Hidaka wonders what he has failed to do this time.
But there is no rebuke today.
The cold eyes turn to him, then back to the two flight decks abreast of them.
“We have received our orders Hidaka. Truk, refuel. Then First fleet sail , and we are to strike Mili atoll. Apparently Captain Beppu places his faith in you to organize the strike. He says, and I quote, admiring your experience and boldness, we will follow your plan”
Hidaka remains silent. But a course of pleasure does pass through him.
Kato points at three kate bombers passing overhead. ‘I want your honest opinion of the abilities of our airgroups”
Our air groups. Not mine. His.
Just because you can fly………..
“Hiyo’s Kates, vals, are good. The fighters are terrible. Shoho: fair kates, terrible fighters too. They lost heavily last time”
‘And our men”
‘The best sir. The very best”
Kato does not look him in the eye, continues to stare at the sea. “Mili will have defences.. I will not waste our bombers on that target. Nor my fighters.
Not to make quickly re filled holes
The first wave will be filled by rookies, Let them pave the way. Keep the experienced bombers back, we will find targets I am sure more worthy of their lives”
Hidaka cannot answer.
You are one cold barsted………..
But, and the military man inside him can see the logic. They must raise the experience levels of the pilots, and quickly.
There is no quicker way than in battle…………
It has been a good run, but now, as sweat pours into his eyes, streams down his face, the Charge can sense that maybe the good run is done.
Each boiler room has two fuel pumps, great gangly reciprocating things, that have maintained a steady beat for nearly a year now.
They are actually favorites of many of the men.
Take the asbestos cover off the top, and the Piston head is revealed, a lovely bowl shaped objective.
How many eggs fried on that over the years?
Others simply like the beat, others fascinated by the sophistication of the con rods, the valve gears, the cams,.
Some , he thinks, probably even find them vaguely romantic, throw backs to an earlier age.
The Charge simply likes them for their reliability.
Until now.
The Port outer pump is dead. Water is draining plaintively down her sides, and an evil, burnt oil smell is emitting from her gutzs.
The con rod is broken clean through, and the suspicion is very rapidly hardening in his mind that the piston is seized up there.
Damnation
‘’Its Truked Hirate, you’ve killed my baby”
Hirate smiles, he knows the jibe is in jest
‘It made a lovely bang chief”
‘Lovely my arse”
He stands. Yes, the good run is finished. Another challenge then.
‘Isolate her out, and get the tools. Lets get her open, and see what you have blood well done”
The charge leaves, seeking Tan, who is somewhere in the port engine room bilges. He gives the other pump a glance, as if warning it to behave. Fuel pump failures are awkward, there is no way you can cross connect them.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt