The little ship that could.

[1275psi]

Tassafronga.

Where suicidal courage meets cold hard American firepower and machinery.
Its not a battle.

Its a reaping of men, the mowing down of bodies.

An hour later, as the last pathetic cries of banzia die away, the shocked americans atop their tanks, view a field of death.
None will forget this day.
They will all their days, wondering why.

But there can be no answers to madness.


( I highly recommend Cantona's blogg for this battle)

[1275psi]

27th May

History will show Zuiho remains at Truk, along with most of Japans fleet.

History will not record her day, its too mundane for THAT.

But in war, every day, whether in action, or not, is just as vital.
Machinery must be maintained. Stores ordered, and delivered. training will continue.
And discipline, in face of the greatest enemy -boredom- must tighten.

keep the men busy.
Japan is very, very good at that.
Reville, 0500 hrs
Pt, 0530 - hundreds of men utilising zuihos decks, staining them with sweat.
0630, breakfast
0730, turn to, clean up messdecks
0800, colours, and fall in by divisions

then, to work.
And work they will.

The day will be a long one.
But work will make it pass.Better than battle, where the day may never end, for it may pitch you into eternity......

[1275psi]

It is the 31st of may.

Externally, the great ships still swing at their bouys, unchanged, unmoving.
How long have they been there now? A day?, a week?, a month?, a year?
Steel, of course, does not care.
Like stone, it waits , eternal.

The men in these great steel beasts, grow restless with each dawn.

Lurch, does his rounds. Quiet, dependable.
Bored.. Bitter. Overlooked for promotion this time around..........again.
promotion, it seems to him, is not a measure of skill, or dedication, or knowledge.
Its a popularity contest, one like him, seemingly will never win.
He waits for Zuiho to sail, to go to battle.
He may be simple in THIER eyes, but he knows the Nelson toast -'here to bloody battles, and rapid promotion"

Okano walks the decks, frustrated. He spends his spare hours (what there are of them) staring North, staring towards japan.
There has been mail.
Okano has six children, and a wife skilled in the art of writing mail that appears innocent, yet can pass the censors gaze.
It is never easy to feed a family of six. Apparently it is getting harder.
Japan is suffering shortages.

But shortages of what?
She just says shortages. That could mean anything.
But surely not food?.......

Hirate works. His frustrations are more direct. Charge has given him a new job, double bottom I/C's.
In charge of boiler chemistry and fuel.
And fuel now frustrates him. they are down to 30% now, using tanks usually never used. Tomorrow they will have to ballast, and that, my friends , is a whole new barsted basket case of work.....

But if they refuelled.
But there seems to be little prospect of that.

Charge is too busy to think of tomorrow. There are safety valves to test this week, emergency stops as well.
he has faith in Hirate, as inexperienced as he is, but leaving boilers at idle for so long, is never good. Once the forcing really begins, Chemistry always gets nasty.
he wishes they would sail, even if its just to get a cool breeze across the deck.
But until they fuel, they must sit, and bake under this cursed tropical sun.

Our pilots feel real frustration.
They, of course, cannot fly. There is never going to be wind enough across the deck in this Lagoon.
Light CVE's have arrived this week, dispatching their fighters to Truks fields. They fly every day , training, and they watch them.
Frustrated to hell.

When they get some fuel, and get this barge to sea again.

But they wait, baking in the sun.

Hidaka reads todays reports.
Why, why are they still here?.
There are new planes down south, apparently.
A thing the Americans call the Thunderbolt, joining that ugly plane the corsair.

And they have shredded a sentai today.
45 fighters, 27 bombers dispatched.
31 fighters lost, 15 betties too.
How in the hell can that happen? Are they that incompetent?
here they sit, the best pilots in Japan, growing fat arses, and they send children!



It never enters his mind, of course, that those 'children, are (or were) Japans very best............


Kato paces the decks too. Shokaku is coming south. And maybe, enough fuel to sail next week.
But the allies are crawling up the chain, Munda is being bombed daily.
Transports are gathering
And still they sit here.
And sit.
and sit.

[1275psi]

31st of may

The 1st Aussie division enters Buna, immediately attacks.
And wins, almost to their surprise.

There is no response from japan.
No sign of its fleet.

What eveil plan are they coming up with?

[1275psi]

Yamamoto considers the board.

His queen is threatened by the black knight, a difficult situation.
But there remains hope, his castle.............

His staff officer waits beside him, sheafs of paper in his hand
'Are they confirmed then?"
The officer reads the report. ' One transport sunk at Russel island, one AM at Port moresby."
"Losses?"
"Grievious sir".

Yes, grevious. But what can they do.?. They must fight, yet not fight
But his queen, the fleet, is shackled to here, to Truk.
Fuel.
He needs fuel.

[Gridley380]

I poked around but couldn't find Cantona's blog linked. My Search Fu is weak.

Help?

[BigBadWolf]

ORIGINAL: 1275psi

http://bytesanddice.wordpress.com/

Cantonas blogg-a good one, and the allied propaganda view of this war

Here you are.

[Gridley380]

Thank you.

[1275psi]

June 1

Yet another day in the sun

Zuihos hanger is hell, a sauna that stinks of fuel, oil, dope, and sweat.
Hidaka is working his men, hard
Six of her Kates are line astern in the hanger, their crews drilling on torpedo changes.
They have done this so many times before, it comes as second nature, this great struggle to lift 20 odd feet , and a ton or so of death into the bellies grasp above them.
But nobody remains the best at their art with out constant practice.
And Hidaka will make them practice, again, and again.
Nearly a year has passed since he was last caught with out birds armed.
many have forgotten that moment
he never will.

The ding ding of the bells fills the hanger, the fwd elevator lowers, bringing extra light into this great cave, but no cool air.
With a shout, the men heave on the first bomber, pushing it with straining muscles towards the lift.

Hidaka has his face facing aft, guaging the progress of the next bomber, when the scream, short, sharp, horrible fills the air.
It is short, ending with a sickening bang mere feet behind him.
something splatters his legs.

Blood, brawn........gods........brains.
The body barely twitches.

Some fool on the flightdeck, has stepped into the lifts gaping maw...........

[1275psi]

June 2nd

The fleet is immobilised through lack of fuel.

But in China, there are no shortages.
An Army grown fat through inaction, is finally released.
6th army, 1st Army, 11th army, 12th Army begin the march Westward towards Changsa, heart of the Chinese nation.
13th Army advances north.
13 divisions, 6 regiments, and every armoured vehcile and artillery piece in the country are unleashed.


herbiesan is gambling again.
Take out china, and maybe, just maybe, the war elsewhere can be swung back his way.
There can be no maybe with out trying.
And this is going to be a very be try................

[1275psi]

June 3rd

4 allied DDs bombard Munda

Bombers pound Munda
Fighters sweep over Munda, Bouganville, buka, even green island far to the north.
There is little response.Heavies pound Manus, battling, brushing aside the swarms of oscars that rise against them.
They crater the field, burn the buildings, wreck the wharfs.

Like ants, japanese construction troops fill in the holes, put out the fires, prepare for the next day.
War:, wash and repeat. Wash and repeat.
The steady chipping away at the fortress walls, steadily undermining them.
The allies will not close the field this day, or the next.
But eventually, it must be.

The allies patiently, doggedly gnaw away.

But ever aware, that somewhere to the North, japan has a great rock, ready to drop upon their heads.



Kato stands on his quiet bridge wing, contemplating the vast array of ships anchored at Truk
Only Shokaku is missing, and she is due any day now.
What then?
Where will they make the stand?
When, pray tell, the final battle?

It would be glorious, would it not, to raise steam, to form up, to sail this mighty fleet south, and charge the enemy.
Glorious, exciting.

Stupid.

Patience grasshopper -he tells himself -patience.
When the time comes, it will come.
the enemy will lose it first, and strike too soon.
he always does.



A note from herbiesan.
Sorry the story is slow guys, but I have so little to report.
It could remain slow for some time yet............I will not attack again until the moment comes.
(and real life is really pressing)

[1275psi]

( I think i spoke too soon, LOL)




June 6th.

WO Kikuchi of 38th Sentai, for the 10,000th time, shifts in his seat.
The KI 46 Dinah is a beautiful plane, sleek, slim, futuristic looking
It is swift, long legged, reliable.
All things a recon plane must be.

Inside however, it is cramped, noisy, cold, distinctly uncomfortable.

WO Kikuchi wears it like a glove. He should, over 450 times he has done this lonely, lonely sweep over the Northen wastes east of Parishimo -Jima.
Kikuchi is as removed from the heroic image of the Bushido warrior as you can get.
Fat, short, dour, sour. A face permanently creased by a frown.
In 450 missions, he has probably spoken 50 words in total to the men (the many men) who have shared his plane.
And yet, this is what war requires at times
Men who will go out, day after day, after day, fly hours after hours, after hours, knowing that any mechanical failure must mean lonely death, and still attend their duties.

They keep the watch
The long, long lonely watch

Wo Kikuchi is such a man.

He has little imagination.
But patience beyond belief.
And this makes him more than ideal for this job.
They are skidding through the heavy clouds, the rain beating again on the screens, when they sight them.

There is little reaction, just a dour nod, the Dinah sent into the steep bank, circling back towards the contact......

It is such a brief sighting, multiple ships, already slipping into the grey....
but it bursts upon Japans HQ's like a thunderbolt.


'Is this the Allieds much vaunted "new strategy?"

[1275psi]

"Are you sure?"
It is a long time since Herbiesan has felt this, this feeling.
Admit it, Dictator. You feel....fear?

"There is no doubt sir.......a large Task force, 200 miles south east of Paramushiro-jima, heading due West"
"Ships?"
"regretfully sir, the weather is foul. We suspect cruisers at least"

yes, and with cruisers, .there must be carriers........
or worse.
or is it just a raid?


And my entire fleet...........at Truk. marooned.
Damn the Allies!. damn their endless fuel supplies, endless resources. damn their lauck, their eyes. damn them!

I must consider this.
"I release 61st division to southern Command. Get it North now"

Gods...........what if this an invasion!

yes. This is not discomfort he feels. This is fear. genuine fear.

[1275psi]

7th of June

The lights burn bright in Imperial HQ, late into the night, as Home Commands frantically swing bomber and fighter groups from Central japan to its Northern climes.
Northern japan already has its share of bombers, and a fighter sentai, waiting for just this moment.
But war always exposes weakness, and in the harsh light of reality, are they enough?

The answer, as always, is no.

In war, when is enough, ever enough?

So training units through out japan are rudely interupted, the night beating to aero engines winging North.
In waters around Ominoto, an explosion of activity, ships scuttling for safety in harbour, or fleeing westward.
Brave little ships, steam east...........

The lights burn bright, and with the dawn, the search planes fan out, seeking, seeking.

And find nothing.


Which is, of course, as bad as finding something.

Dusk, and the lights at Imperial HQ, will burn late into the night............





Lights on a warship, burn around the clock.
For the men who live deep in warship bowels, their is no dawn, no dusk.
The clock turns, yet the light burns the same.
it is so easy to lose track of time.......

Zuiho has been having a few problems.

First the air cock atop 1A has blown her packing, the leak sending a twenty foot long plume of scraeming, screeching steam whistling across the top of the boilers.
Thus, a boiler swing.
No longer completed, than 1B boiler has decided to chuck another leak at them, this time the guage glass.
Another, another bloody boiler swing.
just get that done, and a feed pump in the starboard spacehas stripped a throttle valve bridge nut -more bloody work.
Zuiho rests on the calm waters of truk lagoon, gentle moonlight bathing her.

Deep in her, groups of men work, on that cock, on that guage glass, on that valve.
The lights burn harshly.
And the work will continue.........until its done.



Hirate and Lurch have the cock atop of 1a boiler.
The valve itself is not very large, not much bigger than two fists together I suppose, but it is proving to be a giant of a problem.
One of the valve packing gland studs, no more than a 1/4 inch in diameter, has snapped of.
Now, the entire valve has to come out.
And, because its nearly 140 degrees up here atop the boiler, and because there is no ventilation as well, it just HAS to be a barsted about it (well, if it was in a cool spot, easily accessible, any stoker will tell you it would come off free and easy. Its just the way these things are)

Lurch has wrenched, strained, muscles bulging on the spanner, and shear will has won. the valve studs loosen reluctantly, one by one.
Lurch speaks, between pants, sweat pouring down his face as Hirate takes his turn on the studs his side.
"Do you ever think we will see home again Petty officer?"
"Of course we will. " grunt.
The stud squeals as it turns slowly. " we must"
'Why do you say that.? Sometimes I think this war will never end"
'because it must, thats why"
"But will the Americans ever give up, we keep winning, but they keep fighting no?"
Hirate pauses, trying to catch his breath
"Lurch, my friend, don't even think that aloud."
'Think what?"
'That we can't win"
Lurch takes his turn. Heaves. Predictably, that stud shears off too.
"TRUK!"
Hirate smiles. "I will tell you why we can't let them win Lurch. For what they will do to Japan will be childs play to what the Charge is going to do to us when he hears about this truker........."
'That bad?"
"Yes my friend, 'That bad"

[1275psi]

Extract from Shattering the sword, a cantona production

1st regiment, 1st Thia division had been stationed at the end of the Burma line, North of Myrintinkya.
Subjected to a merciless bombing campaign for weeks, it is ordered to withdraw.
Japans Army in Burma has operated under disputed skies for 18 months now, Allied bombing barely affecting its operations.
But now, the first frightening lesson of what could, can, and does happen if air superiority is lost.

Entraining south, the regiment is caught.

It takes barely 72 hrs.
Aerial bombing alone, destroys a regiment.....

[John 3rd]

Yikes...

Was the northern TF simply a probe to see what you have up there?

[Gridley380]

False contact? Ghosts? A probe that withdrew? Or a real TF hiding under a storm?

[1275psi]

9th of June

Herbiesan again contemplates the map
"The americans fight as if they bloody well expect Victory as some sort of right!'

The task force to the North, has reapeared, exactly 400 miles south west of parishimo.

A decoy, .........if it looks like a duck, walk likes a duck, its a decoy.......
Cheeky bloody sods. Arrogant barsteds. But I see the game now my friend, all those ships creeping up towards Munda........
'
"gentlemen, lets give him a dose of reality ney?. Inform Yamamoto at once. Launch operation hammer"

[1275psi]

The senior sailors mess is crowded, the men waiting for the evening meal.
Some play cards, others chess. A few read. The air is thick with conversation, and cigerrette smoke.
They have been together these men, for a long, long time now.
The NCO's
The men who really run this ship.

There is a knock at the door
A small face leans in.
LCDR Tan 'is the Charge in?"
"he's asleep sir"
'Regretfully, I must wake him"
'Sir?" red rimmed eyes, a tired face.
'raise steam immediately Chief, all four boilers"
"Sir"

Both men leave the mess.

Behind them, the card games stop.
The chess pieces are put away.
There are no words spoken, the mess simply empties

NCO's run a warship
This one has to be gotten to sea.

[1275psi]

Timing is everything

The allies, i think, have waited just too long.
My tankers are here, and will wait off Kavieng.

Yamamoto occupies his corner of Yamato's great bridge.
Silver phosphorous slides down her great flanks.
He cannot see them, but he can feel them. Almost sense their presence around him, in this dark, dark night.
Nearly every ship of the fleet slides towards Truks lagoons exit.
Operation Hammer.