Hi 1275. Just wanted to thank you for posting this great AAR. You have done a great job of personalizing the impersonal battle reports and strategic dithering behind the scenes!
I am really enjoying the narrative - tension within a panel board of scene-setting pictures. Reads like a graphic novel.
There's a thing hard to convey about tropical waters near the equator. When the moon is full, the night is not dark.
When the seas are calm, phosporous from a ships wake, her bows, her stern, glimmers and sparkles, you can see it for miles.
Ships stand as black card board cut outs, shadow puppets on a stage, lit by the beaming moon.
From the prowling Bukas, there is no hiding in this play.
But what plays for the donkey, plays for the Ass as well.
The fish arrow towards the Nagato, running hot, it will be less than a minute for them to knife across the space sepaerating life and death.
They spread slightly as they come, the subs skipper watching keenly through his scope
Normally, he cannot miss.
Nor will he today.
But those fish leave a wake, shining arrows under this baneful huge full moon, and somebody, some nameless hero spots them from the Wakazuki, spots them within moments of launching.
Wakazuki, passing astern of Nagato..
Wakazuki, engine bells ringing, heeling, turning, accelerating, driving herself straight into the path of the fish.
wakazuki, bucking, buckling, crashing to a horrific stop as her bow , her forward guns, her forward mess decks and all those in them is sliced off by that column of water, that thudding KRRUMMMP, that will kill her.
Kill her but let Nagato live...........
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
The bells ring, the alarms call.
On Zuiho, they are not needed.
All have heard the destroyers death.
Through out her breadth and length, they go to their stations.
And wonder, are we next..........
"Ship closed up sir"
3 minutes, 20 seconds. We are getting tired.
"Very good"
Takeji trains his glasses on the stricken ship, now passing down the Port side. Already the waters lap her bridge, her mast sagging. faint white shapes struggle upon her.
They will not stop for her, of course.
To linger, to assist, to come to a halt near her.
Madness.
But then, we know the price do we not?
The gamble we take, when we put on this Uniform, swear our service.
A swift death is the best we can hope for , yes?. anything, gods, anything but a crippling injury.
Anything but that...........
'Inform the engine room that we may have to manouvre heavily"
"Hie!"
"Prepare to manouvre heavily"
Okano grimaces
"They must think we are idiots down here" he mumbles to himself. What else do ships do when under attack?. Steam straight and true at 15 knots?
"Open the main engine drains, open up air ejector recirc, second condensate pump!"
He reaches for the great valve handle near the guage panel, twists it savegly open, the main circ pump rumbles into life.
0316 hours. 45 minutes of watch to go. Or there was. Damn certain they will all still be down here, locked down under the dogged down hatches to well after dawn.
Damn bloody submarines!
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
Yamato is targetted next.
Trailing 10 miles astern of Zuiho, they merely observe the attack - the flares arcing every which way, the rumble of the charges like distance thunder.
Yamato, thankfully, is missed.
Dawn finds the force entering the Banda sea. Open ocean of a sorts.
Important decisions have to be taken soon.
CAP has been constant, rotating every hour or so, that and the ASW patrols. Pilots, ground crews, planes even, are growing tired, beginning to get cranky.
The fleet will soon need to make its dash. That means fuel. replenishment with the lumbering tankers they are rapidly overhauling.
Yamaguichi bites the bullet "Suspend flying operations. Recover all planes. Prepare to refuel. All ships to fuel to maximum capacity"
Not for the first time he wonders at the wisdom of this mission.
Many, he knows, feel this to be a giant gamble.
But then, they are not privy to everything, are they?
He feels the signal paper he has in his pocket yet again. In a way, a talisman. the rock he clings to now.
It is a simple signal, one of three identical ones he has recieved over three days.
"Very heavy radio traffic Pearl Harbour"
cantona is going to come.
He can feel it.
Good. let us make damn sure that nothing will come from Darwin, that Timor is safe.
Then I can truly turn on what ever the Britisher decides.............
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
In pouring rain, his armour pounces on, disintergrates the Indian brigade blocking the road.
20th, 23rd Army pour south west
By tonight, they will be 6 miles clear of kathea ridge, 51 ahead of the Aussies.
Now, now, can 54th division hold?
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
extract from "the Hungry war" -the battle for Burma
battle for katha ridge was joined before dawn, the 7th Australian division looping around the Northern flank of the defences, the 9th pressing in the centre.
38th division could not hold.
LGEN Seki Kameji, however, unlike many Japanese generals, refused to see his division destroyed or surrounded.
In a series of brilliant local counter attacks, he covered the retreat of his division due south to the Irrawady.
But here, luck, and allied air power finally caught up with him.
Despite having 16 vengence bombers torn out of the sky by the handful of zeros contesting the skies over the battle, the allies were not to be denied.
Every single crossing of the Irrawady , every boat, barge, raft, floating log, is bombed, straffed, napalmed.
38 th division finds itself by late afternoon trapped into a mile long, 100 yard wide pocket.
The end, as predicted, is not pretty.
Kameji gets 12000 across.
He has threatened that any man who crosses with out a gun will be shot, (and many, in fact are), so many, a great many will drown trying to obey those orders.
6000 many
They will float, a stream of bloated corpses, a great many miles, those 6000. A stink that will fill the air, stain the river for many, many months.
They are too many, even for the crocodiles to clean away.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
Even Japans Navy has advanced in some technology.
No longer the astern method, today she will slide alongside the tanker, take station, and fuel alongside.
Quick release fuel probes, automatic tensioners, they are in Japans future. But, this at least, is a step forward.
Takeji takes one last look at the tanker ahead.
Takes a deep silent breath.
"We make our approach!" revolutions 230!"
"revolutions 230!'
Below, the whine of the blowwers, the wind rushes past faster, the waters hiss.
"Port 1 degree!"
Admidships!"
Hold this heading, 270!"
''270 sir!"
Coming along nicely.............gap 50 yards, maybe 45.
Nose swinging slightly as we cross her wake...........'Steady swain!"
'Sir!"
coming up, coming up............
"Half astern both!, astern 180!"
bells clanging......
"half astern both, astern 180 rung down and repeated sir!"
bells clanging............
charge swings the repeater to half astern, twirls the revs to 180.
"Half astern!, 180!"
Hirate , sweat flinging from his red face, spins the great astern throttle, the charge, the ahead in the opposite direction.
Both eyes rigidly afixed on the steam pressure.
It never moves.............
The tacho plunges to zero, plunges past, stops, rock steady, 180 astern..............
"half ahead, revolutions 090!"
again charge, as swift as a blink, matches the bells.
Again the men grunt as he swings open the ahead, Hirate slams shut the astern
easy peazzie..........
Takeji judges the two ships
revolutions 088!
revolutions 091revolutions 089...............ah yes. Thats got her.
"XO, you may commence fuelling."
A gun shhots the dildo acroos, the thin line trailing. men race, catch the line. begin to pull it in.
Other men on the tanker attach a heavier line, and then an even hevier one.
A geat line of menon Zuihos flight deck, cooks, Stokers, stewards, stores rates, any body spare (but never the gunners, not now, they are fully manned, pointed at those menacing waters), haul in the ropes, the great hose following.
Men bolt it to the refuelling point.
Now is the moment of great danger. they cannot manouvre now, cannot escape until that hose is gone.
two gleaming axes, sharp, rest close at hand.............
the fuel pulses across.
Minobe takes a sample. Wrinkles his nose.
"This is pony poo!" he curses
Takeji is leaning over the bridge wing, directly above them at the refuelling point " problems engines?"
"I can smell the sulphur content from here sir...........very poor rate fuel oil!..we are going to smoke like hell with this rubbish!"
Takeji shrugs. "we get what we get Engines........"
And yes, we know this...........but you will be the first to complain when I ask for boiler cleans and soot blows before schedule....."
Minobe can do nothing but accept what he gets. Japan has little enough fuel to be picky now........
An hour later, it is done.
They break free.
For the rest of the day, across a still banda sea, the fleet will steam, south by south west.
Darwin empties of shipping...............
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
Yea, you spell worse than I do, but you sure can write!
+1
If you took time to correct the spelling, we would go weeks between updates, and it would still be, oh, say, June 42 in the story. I am just fine with things as they are.
"Leveling large cities has a tendency to alienate the affections of the inhabitants and does not create an atmosphere of international good will after the war." -Rear Admiral Daniel V. Gallery
I literally have less than an hour most nights, its sit down, and go for it............
10/10/43
The weather worsens.
A heavy high grey overcast, back drop to forming rain storms and scattered showers. A gloomy, evil sky.
The fleet stretches over nearly 80 square miles now, each task force operating almost independently, the carriers carving their own erractic courses as they launch and recover, turning into the stiffening breeze.
Midday, and this activity ceases, the birds go below, for final checks and preparations.
To a man, the fleet anticipates striking at last.
But the manner of the strike...................
Three man crowd around the chart table on Akagi.
Three men who matter, that is. The other men here must pretend to be statues, must disapear. Must attempt to avoid the storm exploding over the table
Genda almost spits the words.
"You have to be crazy sir...........this, this is madness.!"
Yamaguchi stiffens, if that is possible. Already his portly frame seems to have swelled, shoulders coming forward. Two hands, white with the grip , tighten even further on the edge of the table.
"Oh yes, air commander................madness you say!. But isn't madness repeating the same mistake many times hoping for a better result!"
Captain Hara, yet again wishing this could be played out some where, any where else but here, attemptes to intervene...
"gentlemen.........gentlemen!.let us look at this cooly. Like commanders ney?., not , not like hot headed boys at their first bath house visit!"
Both men coldly view him.
And then (because they did once share that first bath house experience), visibly retreat.
'Good" Hara siezes the chance. "Admiral, why don't you, I know you need not to, explain your thinking?"
Yamaguchi eyes him, coldly. But then, much to his relief, speaks.
"Genda, I know it is standard doctrine. We will rush in, and launch a heavy strike. But consider this. They know we are coming. The ships are gone. Only fighters remain.
To send fighters as escort.will just see them, and precious bombers lost. For what? damage they can fix in a week.
The whole idea of this mission is to confirm Darwin, the indian ocean is not going to be a launching pad.
It is obvious now, it won't be,"
"Are you proposing to cancel the strike..after all this?. The men will not stand it!'
"No, nor would I!. No, we will strike. But fighters only. Let your eagles sweep Darwin in strength, rack up kills.
Important to maintain moral yes?
"And the bombers?"
"leave them below. The enemy carriers are not here. I am certain of it now."
Hara must ask. His Admiral seems so certain. "How Admiral?"
Yamaguchi pulls out the signals from his pocket. Not three now,
but five:
"Heavy radio traffic pearl harbour"
And the fifth: "radio intelligence counts 270 ships Pearl harbour, including one replenishment task force of 8 AO's
Genda whistles. That low whistle of amazement that usually is only seen in the movies...............
"270 ships.............270 ships will need a lot of torpedos......alright Admiral, we strike. Fighters only. Then I think.........."
"Yamaguchi finishes it for him....."we high tail out of here......."
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
"Hidaka , you won't believe this. orders from Akagi : strike as planned, 0500 hours, Darwin. Zuiho to provide CAP over fleet. Bombers to remain below"
"No bombers?"
"No truking bombers............, how in the hell can you win if you won't fight!"
Assuming of course...........that there are no carriers waiting somewhere, spoiling for just that..........
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
Shortly after 1800 hours, they shft to the first tank of the "donkey poo"
Oh, it burns alright, after a fashion..............
It sparks as well, it smokes, and both steamers of the watch see pressures noticably fall back.........
Japanese kampong boilers do not have air pressure guages, just a chart--------so many revs on the blowers for so much fuel.
But if pressure drops, then what is wrong.
The first instinct...........more fuel.
But that leads to shuddering of boiler fronts.........a not very pleasant experience, believe me.
So, we give her more air .........crank those blowers up a bit.
But, we are almost at full revs already............
They will get the balance quickly. but the damage is being done, will continue to be done.
She has lost nearly 2 knots. And already the carbon build ups around the burner throats inside the furnace have begun to form.
Slowly, insidiously, Zuihos boilers are going to choke to death.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
