17/7/43
Few in singapore will see them.
They arrive in the roads after dusk, each carrier nestling against the sides of the waiting oilers.
Fuel is sucked greedily aboard, and all ships top their tanks.
The decks are readied, crowding with fighters, dive bombers, and now on several ships, the new TBDs.
Before dawn, japans carrier fleet has cleared the roads, and begins the perilous journey north.
Troops are being delivered to Port Blair - Indians mostly. they will relieve the 4th division, destined for Burma itself.
This is the mission. Yamaguchi is planning more.
It is time to again turn the Bay of Bengal into a Japanese lake.
The little ship that could.
Moderators: wdolson, MOD_War-in-the-Pacific-Admirals-Edition
RE: The little ship that could.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
18/7/43
Marching is hard.
Marching in the tropics, under the canopy, in 100 percent humidity, is harder still.
But now, slowly, subtletly, the ground is changing under Hosho's feet.
The trees are thinning, and the path climbs, and climbs.
To the east, on the horizon, the rampnets of the Himalayas crouch, heads eternally capped with snow.
Occasionally, 55th division now enters the sun, and the cooler airs.
Tonight will be brisk.
When time allows, the beauty of this area, is stunning.
42 miles to Bhamo, as the crow flies. Many more with each ridge, each twist and turn of the track.
The grapevine is in ful swing. Where the information comes from, who knows.
Some is obviously false, that a million chinese are coming.
Other rumours, Hosho feels, have the feel of truth in them.
At Myitkyina, 6th and 7th Aussie divisions await them.
Plus god knows how many more British units.
The British concern them not at all. They have beaten them before, will beat them again.
The Aussies however, have a reputation already.
There is still a long way to go. A long way.
It would be interesting to see how these bronzed warriors fight.
But in the meantime, there is the march.
Nothing but the march.
Marching is hard.
Marching in the tropics, under the canopy, in 100 percent humidity, is harder still.
But now, slowly, subtletly, the ground is changing under Hosho's feet.
The trees are thinning, and the path climbs, and climbs.
To the east, on the horizon, the rampnets of the Himalayas crouch, heads eternally capped with snow.
Occasionally, 55th division now enters the sun, and the cooler airs.
Tonight will be brisk.
When time allows, the beauty of this area, is stunning.
42 miles to Bhamo, as the crow flies. Many more with each ridge, each twist and turn of the track.
The grapevine is in ful swing. Where the information comes from, who knows.
Some is obviously false, that a million chinese are coming.
Other rumours, Hosho feels, have the feel of truth in them.
At Myitkyina, 6th and 7th Aussie divisions await them.
Plus god knows how many more British units.
The British concern them not at all. They have beaten them before, will beat them again.
The Aussies however, have a reputation already.
There is still a long way to go. A long way.
It would be interesting to see how these bronzed warriors fight.
But in the meantime, there is the march.
Nothing but the march.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
From
24th flottilla, Kavieng
To
11th Air Div
'Invasion convoy, containing at least 6 small carriers, one battleship, many transports, sighted moving North towards Munda area, 100 miles south east of Munda
Current strength, 27 Torpedo bombers, 90 fighters.
Heavy raids on Rabual, Manus today.
Enemy T bolts over rabual
Tonies adequate to the task.
We will make them bleed..
24th flottilla, Kavieng
To
11th Air Div
'Invasion convoy, containing at least 6 small carriers, one battleship, many transports, sighted moving North towards Munda area, 100 miles south east of Munda
Current strength, 27 Torpedo bombers, 90 fighters.
Heavy raids on Rabual, Manus today.
Enemy T bolts over rabual
Tonies adequate to the task.
We will make them bleed..
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
19/7/43
As always, damage control central remains the usual noisy , hot humid cell it always has ben.
Zuiho has been at war for 18 months now, or more, but some things never change
Charge will take his place, sitting on the plotting table, legs a dangling.
The Engineer, will take his, on the Technical writers chair, he will as usual commence intensive doodling.
The CPO Chippee, the CPO Aviation support, the other section heads will take their usual spots.
as it always has been, as it always will be, ahmen.
Around them, the steady whine of the blowers forward, the higher pitch of the turbines aft, the rumble of the ventilation fans above.
The evening meeting.
The usual crap, the usual discussion on defects, on personal who need "attention", the usual gossip.
Work is reported completed, assigned.
Notes for night orders are put together.
Soot blows tonight. Work on No 3 arrestor cable.
A fresh water pump u/s, does Shoho have a spare?, could Tan please get a message to her via light tomorrow?
(if of course, Kato deems it important enough)
Overall, Zuiho is travelling well. The long voyage from palua has been incident free, the fuel recieved at Singapore of good quality.
Imperceptably, but then with growing vigour, Damage central begins to rise and fall. Zuihos bows are biting into swells.
No words are spoken, none need to be.
The Indian ocean.
They don't need to be told again, they will check their areas automatically, check foe security, check the damage control equipment
Zuiho shudders as she bites the next swell.
Tiger country.
As always, damage control central remains the usual noisy , hot humid cell it always has ben.
Zuiho has been at war for 18 months now, or more, but some things never change
Charge will take his place, sitting on the plotting table, legs a dangling.
The Engineer, will take his, on the Technical writers chair, he will as usual commence intensive doodling.
The CPO Chippee, the CPO Aviation support, the other section heads will take their usual spots.
as it always has been, as it always will be, ahmen.
Around them, the steady whine of the blowers forward, the higher pitch of the turbines aft, the rumble of the ventilation fans above.
The evening meeting.
The usual crap, the usual discussion on defects, on personal who need "attention", the usual gossip.
Work is reported completed, assigned.
Notes for night orders are put together.
Soot blows tonight. Work on No 3 arrestor cable.
A fresh water pump u/s, does Shoho have a spare?, could Tan please get a message to her via light tomorrow?
(if of course, Kato deems it important enough)
Overall, Zuiho is travelling well. The long voyage from palua has been incident free, the fuel recieved at Singapore of good quality.
Imperceptably, but then with growing vigour, Damage central begins to rise and fall. Zuihos bows are biting into swells.
No words are spoken, none need to be.
The Indian ocean.
They don't need to be told again, they will check their areas automatically, check foe security, check the damage control equipment
Zuiho shudders as she bites the next swell.
Tiger country.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Hidaka is grinning despite himself.
Around Zuiho, a glorious blue and white sea, endless white caps from a steady 30 knot breeze, a wonderful cooling breeze at that.
Zuiho's bows are cutting through the swells, slicing across the tops of them, the wind occasionally throwing salt and spray back down her flight deck, biting his face, gritting his hair.
Three of his birds are away, Uto, Diogawa two of them, flying CAP.
Nobody was going to deny them this today.
It has been too long.
Below, Hidaka has a full strike loaded. A good feeling, no pissing about on naval search this time for this ship. Shoho has that wieght. This time, this time, Zuiho will be part of the thrust, the point of the rapier.
If, of course, there is anything to strike.
Somewhere ahead, Port blair, and a very large, very fat convoy, certainly spotted already by the british.
A nice, tempting, fat target indeed.
It has been too long.
Time for another fight. time to spill some blood.
Time to remind everyone, of the power of Combined Fleet.
Around Zuiho, a glorious blue and white sea, endless white caps from a steady 30 knot breeze, a wonderful cooling breeze at that.
Zuiho's bows are cutting through the swells, slicing across the tops of them, the wind occasionally throwing salt and spray back down her flight deck, biting his face, gritting his hair.
Three of his birds are away, Uto, Diogawa two of them, flying CAP.
Nobody was going to deny them this today.
It has been too long.
Below, Hidaka has a full strike loaded. A good feeling, no pissing about on naval search this time for this ship. Shoho has that wieght. This time, this time, Zuiho will be part of the thrust, the point of the rapier.
If, of course, there is anything to strike.
Somewhere ahead, Port blair, and a very large, very fat convoy, certainly spotted already by the british.
A nice, tempting, fat target indeed.
It has been too long.
Time for another fight. time to spill some blood.
Time to remind everyone, of the power of Combined Fleet.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Extract from falling cherry blossoms...........
And thus we entererd the Indian ocean once again.
Around us, those mighty ships.
Akagi
Shokakau
Zukakau
Hiryu, Soryu, Hiei, Haranua, Kongo, Kirishima...........
Household names every one. subjects of songs, of collectors cards, paintings, movies.....
Famous ships.
Mighty ships.
Symbols of Japan, of her defiance to the world.
But of Zuiho? that little tub?. The ex oiler?
Who could recall her?.
What mighty stories were told about her?
few, very bloody few.
Despite everything we had done, we would always be just another ship, destined to serve, to fight, to slip into the pages of history as a mere foot note.
But for us, as we launched of those stained and cracked timbers, joined our bigger brothers in the air, i can tell you this.
Nobody could take us away from her.
She was more than a ship, more than our home.
She was by now, the very sinews of our life.
And thus we entererd the Indian ocean once again.
Around us, those mighty ships.
Akagi
Shokakau
Zukakau
Hiryu, Soryu, Hiei, Haranua, Kongo, Kirishima...........
Household names every one. subjects of songs, of collectors cards, paintings, movies.....
Famous ships.
Mighty ships.
Symbols of Japan, of her defiance to the world.
But of Zuiho? that little tub?. The ex oiler?
Who could recall her?.
What mighty stories were told about her?
few, very bloody few.
Despite everything we had done, we would always be just another ship, destined to serve, to fight, to slip into the pages of history as a mere foot note.
But for us, as we launched of those stained and cracked timbers, joined our bigger brothers in the air, i can tell you this.
Nobody could take us away from her.
She was more than a ship, more than our home.
She was by now, the very sinews of our life.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
18/7/43
Extract from shattering the Sword, a cantona production
Allied air power grows is strength, and reach
Namatanai, satelite field to rabual, is pounded again
Rabual is hit, hard.
26 B17 blast straight through a CAP of 80 plus fighters near lashio.
kavieg is hit
Shanghia is hit
Hong kong too.
It costs them 11 heavy bombers and 11 fighters this days work, to Japans 33, (mostly on the ground) destroyed craft.
Another non remarkable day.
The bombers will keep coming.
And so far, the fighters will keep rising to meet them. Are they weakening?, are they really chewing Japans forces up?
or will this just go on forever?
We are past mid 43, and not just the pilots of the bombers are thinking, it is such a long way to Tokyo.............
Allied high command needs a short circuit, something, anything to give to their troops, their people,something to show that this is not the endless war, that victory is attainable.
And so, on this day, the president lets it slip. 'Something big is coming..........."
Japan, of course, makes her own plans.
She has her sticks. Now she seeks spokes to thrust them into.
Extract from shattering the Sword, a cantona production
Allied air power grows is strength, and reach
Namatanai, satelite field to rabual, is pounded again
Rabual is hit, hard.
26 B17 blast straight through a CAP of 80 plus fighters near lashio.
kavieg is hit
Shanghia is hit
Hong kong too.
It costs them 11 heavy bombers and 11 fighters this days work, to Japans 33, (mostly on the ground) destroyed craft.
Another non remarkable day.
The bombers will keep coming.
And so far, the fighters will keep rising to meet them. Are they weakening?, are they really chewing Japans forces up?
or will this just go on forever?
We are past mid 43, and not just the pilots of the bombers are thinking, it is such a long way to Tokyo.............
Allied high command needs a short circuit, something, anything to give to their troops, their people,something to show that this is not the endless war, that victory is attainable.
And so, on this day, the president lets it slip. 'Something big is coming..........."
Japan, of course, makes her own plans.
She has her sticks. Now she seeks spokes to thrust them into.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
20/7/43
Imperial HQ
There is a large fly in the room tonight. Nothing special to note about that. it is summer after all.
But I think, well, I will conjecture, that this fly may have been a sailor in a previous life.
An admiral perhaps?
Conjecture I know, but we humans do tend to project ourselves onto anything.
So, this fly,in the imperial HQ.
What does he see?
Well, there is a map.
A very large, slightly stained map. Up in one corner, marked Burma, his legs scurry over, and around a mass of flags. Some red, some green. Quite a a lot actually, all converging.
The stains are thick here, and the map well dotted with holes.
Those pins are all being moved, it seems, a lot lately.
There is a different pin, down near port blair.
Combined fleet
our fly tastes it, i think, and drops a turd
(I really do wonder about this fly)
The fly takes a short flight, circles a dot, a dot called cocos island. Another flag here.
he lingers here a while, Mushuai, Hiyo, Yamato, ryujo, .............
yes fly, what the hell are those ships doing out there?
a mystery yes?
another flight, timor sea.
More flags. Lots of ships, japanese cruisers, headed south.
Do you know where thay are going little friend?
No, of course not. You are only a fly.
Shoo!
but he lands again, right up there, near the top of the map
Parishimo?
Why are battle ships up there?
You think herbiesan is nervous about the northern route?
Yes.
I agree.
I think he is.
Now, thanks for the tour fly. Anything i have missed?
Oh, those?. That great mass of green flags West of Munda.
that my friend, is an invasion fleet.
I think.
But you know what fly. I think Cantona wants me to think that thats the real threat.
Thats why I am scattered all over the place
Stupid tactics?
look fly, concentration is good, but sometimes..............
Are you sure you are not the ghost of yamamoto?.................
Imperial HQ
There is a large fly in the room tonight. Nothing special to note about that. it is summer after all.
But I think, well, I will conjecture, that this fly may have been a sailor in a previous life.
An admiral perhaps?
Conjecture I know, but we humans do tend to project ourselves onto anything.
So, this fly,in the imperial HQ.
What does he see?
Well, there is a map.
A very large, slightly stained map. Up in one corner, marked Burma, his legs scurry over, and around a mass of flags. Some red, some green. Quite a a lot actually, all converging.
The stains are thick here, and the map well dotted with holes.
Those pins are all being moved, it seems, a lot lately.
There is a different pin, down near port blair.
Combined fleet
our fly tastes it, i think, and drops a turd
(I really do wonder about this fly)
The fly takes a short flight, circles a dot, a dot called cocos island. Another flag here.
he lingers here a while, Mushuai, Hiyo, Yamato, ryujo, .............
yes fly, what the hell are those ships doing out there?
a mystery yes?
another flight, timor sea.
More flags. Lots of ships, japanese cruisers, headed south.
Do you know where thay are going little friend?
No, of course not. You are only a fly.
Shoo!
but he lands again, right up there, near the top of the map
Parishimo?
Why are battle ships up there?
You think herbiesan is nervous about the northern route?
Yes.
I agree.
I think he is.
Now, thanks for the tour fly. Anything i have missed?
Oh, those?. That great mass of green flags West of Munda.
that my friend, is an invasion fleet.
I think.
But you know what fly. I think Cantona wants me to think that thats the real threat.
Thats why I am scattered all over the place
Stupid tactics?
look fly, concentration is good, but sometimes..............
Are you sure you are not the ghost of yamamoto?.................
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
21/7/43
Endless rain pounds down from a dark grey sky that whips mere 100's of feet above Zuiho's bridge
It beats upon her bridge windows, it runs in rivers down from the deck above
It dances as it beats upon her helplessly grounded planes, and churns the ocean into a white broth.
It plunges the bridge into gloom, into darkness.
A different darkness stalks her bridge.
One of despair, of dis belief.
"All of them?"
Kato barely croaks the words, the pain deep in his voice, "All of them?", as if he can merely change it all by denial.
Hidaka, face streaming with tears, can merely nod
"all of them sir, none have escaped"
The british have raced in, cutting in, in all probability, just behind them during the night, and slaughtered the Port Blair convoy
A division, the 4th, exists no more.
Zuiho will soon be racing due west, through the dark, the gloom, the rain.
Despair of defeat stalks her decks.
Endless rain pounds down from a dark grey sky that whips mere 100's of feet above Zuiho's bridge
It beats upon her bridge windows, it runs in rivers down from the deck above
It dances as it beats upon her helplessly grounded planes, and churns the ocean into a white broth.
It plunges the bridge into gloom, into darkness.
A different darkness stalks her bridge.
One of despair, of dis belief.
"All of them?"
Kato barely croaks the words, the pain deep in his voice, "All of them?", as if he can merely change it all by denial.
Hidaka, face streaming with tears, can merely nod
"all of them sir, none have escaped"
The british have raced in, cutting in, in all probability, just behind them during the night, and slaughtered the Port Blair convoy
A division, the 4th, exists no more.
Zuiho will soon be racing due west, through the dark, the gloom, the rain.
Despair of defeat stalks her decks.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
It rains toonear Munda
Great squalls, that the Allied fleet tramps slowly through, again now headed towards whatever target it aims for, Vella?, shortlands?
Occasionally, the fleet breaks into the sunshine, islands of calm before the next storm covers them again.
A perfect day to hide in, for the fleet, and for those who hunt it.
80 plus hellcats are aloft, but no one piloting them, would be fool enough to fly into the storms about them.
16 betties will burst from a rain bank, flying low, hard, fast. They will burst into sunshine, bright, clear sunshine, actors on this stage.
Battleship South Dakota, that unlucky ship, is turning to port at the time, literally the rest of the fleet in the rain astern.
Alone, she has no chance, for the betties are a mere 1000 yards away.
The hellcats will get 6, after the damage has been done
Three fish slam her.
Ship staggers away, into the rain, and into her own darkness.
Great squalls, that the Allied fleet tramps slowly through, again now headed towards whatever target it aims for, Vella?, shortlands?
Occasionally, the fleet breaks into the sunshine, islands of calm before the next storm covers them again.
A perfect day to hide in, for the fleet, and for those who hunt it.
80 plus hellcats are aloft, but no one piloting them, would be fool enough to fly into the storms about them.
16 betties will burst from a rain bank, flying low, hard, fast. They will burst into sunshine, bright, clear sunshine, actors on this stage.
Battleship South Dakota, that unlucky ship, is turning to port at the time, literally the rest of the fleet in the rain astern.
Alone, she has no chance, for the betties are a mere 1000 yards away.
The hellcats will get 6, after the damage has been done
Three fish slam her.
Ship staggers away, into the rain, and into her own darkness.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
22/7/43
Liberators bomb Samah
Liberators pound rabual
Liberators attack at 6000 feet Manus, and run smack into a balloon barrage
B17s attack the 55 div, but miss hoshos division again
B17s attack 15th army HQ, and do NOT miss
And yet more liberators attack manus, rabual
There seems to be nowhere they cannot reach, no field they cannot crater
But 15 go down today, an encouragement at least for the ragged defence flaying at them.
The allies approach Shortlands, and the rain continues to fall
Liberators bomb Samah
Liberators pound rabual
Liberators attack at 6000 feet Manus, and run smack into a balloon barrage
B17s attack the 55 div, but miss hoshos division again
B17s attack 15th army HQ, and do NOT miss
And yet more liberators attack manus, rabual
There seems to be nowhere they cannot reach, no field they cannot crater
But 15 go down today, an encouragement at least for the ragged defence flaying at them.
The allies approach Shortlands, and the rain continues to fall
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Watch keeping, as I am sure many of you can attest, is a mind numbing thing at times.
Your mind does laps. Home. Work, the next cup of tea, home again
Wondering where they are, when the next port will be, when the watch will end.
The machinery melds into the background, oh, one part of you never turns its back on it, that is too deadly, but another part, the You part, your soul part, it finds freedom, somewhere other than here.
Its a common joke, that Nay time, is harder than jail time.
The accomodation is worse, the food at tmes worse, the privacy less, the work harder.
And usually, nobody is trying to kill you in Jail.
Few men drown there, that is for certain.
Hirate has the watch in Port engine room. His mind however, is fully here, here in this screaming hell.
For eight hours now, they have been at full power, pushing Zuiho as hard as she has ever been pushed.
Kato has told them they seek revenge.
It has been pitifully small, a pair of PGs sunk at dawn by the search planes.
The cruisers have escaped.
Hirate cares nothing about that.
For three hours now, it has been oil pressure, vacuum, steam pressure, condensate pressure, oil pressure, vacuum..........
He stands, seemingly relaxed, his arms above him swinging o the handle of the main steam guard valve, the great big 6 inch barsted that guards the gate of the yawning turbine inlet.
But his eyes are hard, and they sweep endlessly.
At 1832 hours exactly, the telegraphs ring, half ahead, revolutions 179.........
carefully, slowly, they back the old girl down, it is frighteningly easy to put a boiler 'over the top' at moments like this.
Visibly relaxing, Hirate drops his hands, reaches for the log board.
"How about a cup of tea Lurch?"
Lurch nods, puts down his round board.......
And then, seemingly, the world explodes.
Your mind does laps. Home. Work, the next cup of tea, home again
Wondering where they are, when the next port will be, when the watch will end.
The machinery melds into the background, oh, one part of you never turns its back on it, that is too deadly, but another part, the You part, your soul part, it finds freedom, somewhere other than here.
Its a common joke, that Nay time, is harder than jail time.
The accomodation is worse, the food at tmes worse, the privacy less, the work harder.
And usually, nobody is trying to kill you in Jail.
Few men drown there, that is for certain.
Hirate has the watch in Port engine room. His mind however, is fully here, here in this screaming hell.
For eight hours now, they have been at full power, pushing Zuiho as hard as she has ever been pushed.
Kato has told them they seek revenge.
It has been pitifully small, a pair of PGs sunk at dawn by the search planes.
The cruisers have escaped.
Hirate cares nothing about that.
For three hours now, it has been oil pressure, vacuum, steam pressure, condensate pressure, oil pressure, vacuum..........
He stands, seemingly relaxed, his arms above him swinging o the handle of the main steam guard valve, the great big 6 inch barsted that guards the gate of the yawning turbine inlet.
But his eyes are hard, and they sweep endlessly.
At 1832 hours exactly, the telegraphs ring, half ahead, revolutions 179.........
carefully, slowly, they back the old girl down, it is frighteningly easy to put a boiler 'over the top' at moments like this.
Visibly relaxing, Hirate drops his hands, reaches for the log board.
"How about a cup of tea Lurch?"
Lurch nods, puts down his round board.......
And then, seemingly, the world explodes.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
WHAT?
Foul!
Next entry NOW...please...
Foul!
Next entry NOW...please...
Member: Treaty, Reluctant Admiral and Between the Storms Mod Team.
RE: The little ship that could.
Second that.
Appear at places to which he must hasten; move swiftly where he does not expect you.
Sun Tzu
Sun Tzu
RE: The little ship that could.
23/7/43
The war in the Solomons continue.
Allied forces begin landing at shortlands, and the opposition is light.
The weather covers them for the fore noon, but lifts after lunch
It is a brutal day from here on.
29 zeros escort 20 Betties from Kavieg. The zero pilots have but one order, sell your lives as dearly as you can, get the bombers through.
21 hellcats intercept, with the usual mix of other villans thrown in, corsairs, P 38's, T bolts to add to the slaughter.
The truth is there now. Plain to see. The zero is not up to it anymore, especially in the hands of these rookies.
They die like flies.
It is not a pointless death.
The enemy fighters have only a short window on the bombers, following them all the way through the attack run, a mad dance at 50 feet across the waters.
Courage is displayed everywhere, the bomber men, the pursuing fighters, the gunners firing at anything coming their way.
2 fish strike the CVE Sangamon, and only 2 bombers escape.
A brutal day. kavieng has had its teeth pulled.
In the solomons, Japans sword arm lies on the floor, shorn clean off........
Japans surface ships, that one would expect to be racing to shortlands, are pounding targets of their own.
Merauke takes 110 hits from three cruisers, and suffers 50 planes damaged.
It is but a flesh wound..................
The war in the Solomons continue.
Allied forces begin landing at shortlands, and the opposition is light.
The weather covers them for the fore noon, but lifts after lunch
It is a brutal day from here on.
29 zeros escort 20 Betties from Kavieg. The zero pilots have but one order, sell your lives as dearly as you can, get the bombers through.
21 hellcats intercept, with the usual mix of other villans thrown in, corsairs, P 38's, T bolts to add to the slaughter.
The truth is there now. Plain to see. The zero is not up to it anymore, especially in the hands of these rookies.
They die like flies.
It is not a pointless death.
The enemy fighters have only a short window on the bombers, following them all the way through the attack run, a mad dance at 50 feet across the waters.
Courage is displayed everywhere, the bomber men, the pursuing fighters, the gunners firing at anything coming their way.
2 fish strike the CVE Sangamon, and only 2 bombers escape.
A brutal day. kavieng has had its teeth pulled.
In the solomons, Japans sword arm lies on the floor, shorn clean off........
Japans surface ships, that one would expect to be racing to shortlands, are pounding targets of their own.
Merauke takes 110 hits from three cruisers, and suffers 50 planes damaged.
It is but a flesh wound..................
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
(Zuiho tomorrow, time short..........)
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
-
Wirraway_Ace
- Posts: 1509
- Joined: Mon Oct 08, 2007 2:28 pm
- Location: Austin / Brisbane
RE: The little ship that could.
Truly beautiful writing, as always.
RE: The little ship that could.
How about a cup of tea Lurch?............
The bang directly above Hirates head is a sloud a noise he will ever hear, a gigantic terrifying sound of a million tin cans slamming into another million simultaneously.
'What the..........?'
Dust and dirt explodes about him
'Duck..............!'
The bang replaced by the shrieking screaming hell of high pressure steam bursting down and above him
'Steam leak....................shi#!............shi#!.....still alive...........heat on the back............'
he crabs down and sideways, a million things crowding upon him
..............and horror, he can see the paint being peeled visibly away from the guage board the steam blasting its strength against it.
The noise, the overwhelming noise crushes him,.................
And yet he moves, swinging into the drills so ofeten, so often practiced.
Lurch, Heavens bless him, remains crouched, looking directly to him, seeking leadership...
Hirate does not fail him.
It is I think, there finest moments
Hirate cuts his arm across his throat..."Kill everything!" and Lurch , crouching still, races aft to the turbo generator......
The Third hands head pokes abruptly up from the plates below...........again.Kill everything!
Now Hirate hits the emergency oil pump starter, turns, and braves the steam, crabbing low, desperately reaching for the telegraphs.
"Hot!, and getting hotter................there is not much time!"
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Kato feels the thump even from the bridge
It shakes the dust, rings through the soles of his feet
Instictively he knows, he can feel it, that whatever THAT was, it is bad, very bad.
Even as his hand slams the Emergency alarm, he is not surprised to hear the shriek from below..........
It shakes the dust, rings through the soles of his feet
Instictively he knows, he can feel it, that whatever THAT was, it is bad, very bad.
Even as his hand slams the Emergency alarm, he is not surprised to hear the shriek from below..........
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt