The little ship that could.
Moderators: wdolson, MOD_War-in-the-Pacific-Admirals-Edition
RE: The little ship that could.
So late in the war and Japan is still holding on.[X(]
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.
27th of december 1944
Yamamato shifts uneasily in his seat, trying without success o get comfortable .
Under his immaculate uniform, he is wearing the most inconvienient of garmets, a rather stiff and severe corset, a hidden but essential hang over from his injuries. Medical science has not yet advanced to pins in shattered spines, thus the essential back support, and the attendant discomfort.
He dreads of course, what would happen if one was discovered wearing such a thing.
He shifts in the seat again, back almost ramrod straight. The only advantage in the bloody thing, the way it forces a military posture......and carefully opens the signal
'Most top secret
For Yamamato's eyes only"
The big Emily bounces slightly, it is a long way to Manilla, and Admiral Abe.
But first things first.
'Report on activities of IJNS Chiburi, and passenger X'
Yamamato shifts again, bloody garmet.............so clever to have your own pair of eyes on Chiburi yes?..........you thought you were so clever herbiesan......
Not so clever after all, it seems
"passenger X boarded Chiburi as planned, and ship immediately sailed for Northern waters,'
the rat, fleeing, ney?
"he never arrived. At some point he either met foul play, or committed suicide. I suspect the former. Chiburi has now returned to Shikuka"
Carefully he refolds the Signal, places it in his top pocket.
Below Okiwana slides slowly past.
Somwhere on Chiburi, a patriot.
A pity.
He turns, gestures to a staff member.
he leans to his ear. "Upon arrival..........there is a small escort vessel, the Chiburi.........I need to know where it is, who it is attached to."
So I can order it somewhere else
Somewhere decidedly dangerous..........
Yamamato shifts uneasily in his seat, trying without success o get comfortable .
Under his immaculate uniform, he is wearing the most inconvienient of garmets, a rather stiff and severe corset, a hidden but essential hang over from his injuries. Medical science has not yet advanced to pins in shattered spines, thus the essential back support, and the attendant discomfort.
He dreads of course, what would happen if one was discovered wearing such a thing.
He shifts in the seat again, back almost ramrod straight. The only advantage in the bloody thing, the way it forces a military posture......and carefully opens the signal
'Most top secret
For Yamamato's eyes only"
The big Emily bounces slightly, it is a long way to Manilla, and Admiral Abe.
But first things first.
'Report on activities of IJNS Chiburi, and passenger X'
Yamamato shifts again, bloody garmet.............so clever to have your own pair of eyes on Chiburi yes?..........you thought you were so clever herbiesan......
Not so clever after all, it seems
"passenger X boarded Chiburi as planned, and ship immediately sailed for Northern waters,'
the rat, fleeing, ney?
"he never arrived. At some point he either met foul play, or committed suicide. I suspect the former. Chiburi has now returned to Shikuka"
Carefully he refolds the Signal, places it in his top pocket.
Below Okiwana slides slowly past.
Somwhere on Chiburi, a patriot.
A pity.
He turns, gestures to a staff member.
he leans to his ear. "Upon arrival..........there is a small escort vessel, the Chiburi.........I need to know where it is, who it is attached to."
So I can order it somewhere else
Somewhere decidedly dangerous..........
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
28th December
Okano commences his third set of rounds through Chiburi’s engineroom. This is the core of naval engineering, the endless prowling about machinery, seeking to detect that crippling defect before it occurs.
There is more to this than meets the eye.
Modern enginerooms, frequently now days, are great gleaming caverns, and every piece of machinery is monitored by remote sensors, the spaces themselves under CCTV vision.
Computers control the machinery, sensors alarming whenever any parameter is broken.
But you still have to visit the space.
Have to.
You meet them, the guys who “have it”
The men who, over the years have developed that intimate knowledge of machinery, almost, dare we say it, that 6th sense
They will enter that machinery compartment, and pause. They just know ………………something down here is not right.
And tonight, as Okano rises from his upside down bucket that serves as his seat, he feels it, knows it
Both engines bellow on, but the bellow has a new noise in it, do you hear it?. No?. Well, can you feel it through your feet?
No?
Surely you do?
Okano glances at the gauge board, eyes darting…………..and he see’s it.
Swiftly he moves to the front of the Port main, bends to one knee
Do you smell it then?............Oh, so you DO hear that noise?
That’s not right, is it!
NO, its not……………
Port main SW cooling pump is on the way out………..and big time by the sound of it.
“TRUK!!”
More work
Port in one hour……………….leave just flew out the bloody window………….
Okano commences his third set of rounds through Chiburi’s engineroom. This is the core of naval engineering, the endless prowling about machinery, seeking to detect that crippling defect before it occurs.
There is more to this than meets the eye.
Modern enginerooms, frequently now days, are great gleaming caverns, and every piece of machinery is monitored by remote sensors, the spaces themselves under CCTV vision.
Computers control the machinery, sensors alarming whenever any parameter is broken.
But you still have to visit the space.
Have to.
You meet them, the guys who “have it”
The men who, over the years have developed that intimate knowledge of machinery, almost, dare we say it, that 6th sense
They will enter that machinery compartment, and pause. They just know ………………something down here is not right.
And tonight, as Okano rises from his upside down bucket that serves as his seat, he feels it, knows it
Both engines bellow on, but the bellow has a new noise in it, do you hear it?. No?. Well, can you feel it through your feet?
No?
Surely you do?
Okano glances at the gauge board, eyes darting…………..and he see’s it.
Swiftly he moves to the front of the Port main, bends to one knee
Do you smell it then?............Oh, so you DO hear that noise?
That’s not right, is it!
NO, its not……………
Port main SW cooling pump is on the way out………..and big time by the sound of it.
“TRUK!!”
More work
Port in one hour……………….leave just flew out the bloody window………….
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
To think I thought this story was over when Zuiho had her bows blown off. Boy, was I wrong! Good stuff here!!
RE: The little ship that could.
29th December, 1944
Captain Ugaki sits at the back of the small room, glad to be out of the weather.
He is not glad about very much else.
An hour ago, a signal from Combined Fleet no less.
"IJNS Chiburi assigned to Task force 446, LCDR Iokibe commanding"
Convoy duty, Shikuka to Ominato run, tankers.
The second most deadly run after the straights south of Tiawan..........there must be literally a hundred Japanese ships on the bottom of these waters from this run.
And also, a bloody engine down.
As the briefing begins however, one bright thought, no questions on his movements these last weeks...........
He turns his attention towards this new man in his life, Cmdr Iokibe, the other Captains about him.
Middle aged, face craggy, worn, tired. A face that has seen too many cold rough dawns, too many frozen corpses. A face replicated by all about him, in fact.
This is no easy run, this.
And the war has been going a long, long time now, has it not, yes?
A long time.
A lot of dawns, a lot of dead men.
"Another run,", Iokibe begins " with only one difference,we welcome Chiburi to our little team"
Faces turn to him, he smiles almost nervously, judgement will come quickly, no doubt
Iokibe hands Ugaki a sheaf of papers."formations, standard responses to threats, submarine attacks, doctrine.....Ugaki, we have but one rule really, any SS is to be attacked by all escorts, our tactics and attack formation are all in there, please read before we sail"
"Are there any questions?"
Iokibe smiles, but there is no warmth in it........"Good, we sail at dawn, as usual, lets get some sleep "
The room empties, leaving Ugaki to study the documents
TF 446, it seems, is an old unit, formed almost since the war's beginnings.
Two old, old DDs, Niokaze, Namikaze, far too small for these waters really........
A sister to Chiburi, the Mikura.
Patrol boats No 2, No 8, and DMS W-23
All for two charges, the survivors of all these years no doubt, small tankers Setsuzan Maru, Rizan Maru.
Cargo :oil.
Chiburi, it seems, will fill a gap at the rear of the formation.
And it strikes him then.
Chiburi is no longer free, the war has reached out and grasped her with its impacable grip.
Real war, deadly war.
And Chiburi is not ready for it.
Captain Ugaki sits at the back of the small room, glad to be out of the weather.
He is not glad about very much else.
An hour ago, a signal from Combined Fleet no less.
"IJNS Chiburi assigned to Task force 446, LCDR Iokibe commanding"
Convoy duty, Shikuka to Ominato run, tankers.
The second most deadly run after the straights south of Tiawan..........there must be literally a hundred Japanese ships on the bottom of these waters from this run.
And also, a bloody engine down.
As the briefing begins however, one bright thought, no questions on his movements these last weeks...........
He turns his attention towards this new man in his life, Cmdr Iokibe, the other Captains about him.
Middle aged, face craggy, worn, tired. A face that has seen too many cold rough dawns, too many frozen corpses. A face replicated by all about him, in fact.
This is no easy run, this.
And the war has been going a long, long time now, has it not, yes?
A long time.
A lot of dawns, a lot of dead men.
"Another run,", Iokibe begins " with only one difference,we welcome Chiburi to our little team"
Faces turn to him, he smiles almost nervously, judgement will come quickly, no doubt
Iokibe hands Ugaki a sheaf of papers."formations, standard responses to threats, submarine attacks, doctrine.....Ugaki, we have but one rule really, any SS is to be attacked by all escorts, our tactics and attack formation are all in there, please read before we sail"
"Are there any questions?"
Iokibe smiles, but there is no warmth in it........"Good, we sail at dawn, as usual, lets get some sleep "
The room empties, leaving Ugaki to study the documents
TF 446, it seems, is an old unit, formed almost since the war's beginnings.
Two old, old DDs, Niokaze, Namikaze, far too small for these waters really........
A sister to Chiburi, the Mikura.
Patrol boats No 2, No 8, and DMS W-23
All for two charges, the survivors of all these years no doubt, small tankers Setsuzan Maru, Rizan Maru.
Cargo :oil.
Chiburi, it seems, will fill a gap at the rear of the formation.
And it strikes him then.
Chiburi is no longer free, the war has reached out and grasped her with its impacable grip.
Real war, deadly war.
And Chiburi is not ready for it.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Yamamato climbs , as best he can, through the many levels of Yamato's great tower.
Shrewdly, Abe has moved his flag to the giant, as if to reinforce who really is in charge of the fleet.
In pain, breathing heavily he reaches the navigation bridge.
Abe awaits, alone
"So, its true, you are not dead"
Yamamato nods gently.'yes"
A long silence
'The convoy is in, you should be getting your planes tomorrow, at the latest"
Abe does not answer, instead, he turns, faces away, looking out across manilla bay, the fleet arrayed in lines before them
"You bring little else but trouble"
Yamatao contemplates this. One must, to get what one wants, at times place yourself in the others shoes.
"I understand your anger Abe, you have fought so well, so long, in such difficult circumstances...........you fear I am going to take all this from you?"
Angrily Abe turns
"Are you not?, you........you intend to take the fleet to one last great battle, to die immortalised in history, no?"
I have thought many times of that friend............many times
"Once, yes, I thought that. No, not now Admiral.................you keep the honour"
Abes eyes narrow."What are you proposing?"
Yamamato takes a deep breath 'you will continue to command all Navy units, air, sea, land. I, in turn, will take on Army, and with the Emperors help, get them into line, get them to finally co operate fully. You are to become a fleet in being, hit, run, no heroics, no suicidal operations. You will fight through 45.............."
'Another year?!"
"Another year, you must be prepared to live another year Admiral............war weariness will save us..............nothing else can now"
Abe turns away again, a single man atop of a floating city
'Alright, agreed"
Shrewdly, Abe has moved his flag to the giant, as if to reinforce who really is in charge of the fleet.
In pain, breathing heavily he reaches the navigation bridge.
Abe awaits, alone
"So, its true, you are not dead"
Yamamato nods gently.'yes"
A long silence
'The convoy is in, you should be getting your planes tomorrow, at the latest"
Abe does not answer, instead, he turns, faces away, looking out across manilla bay, the fleet arrayed in lines before them
"You bring little else but trouble"
Yamatao contemplates this. One must, to get what one wants, at times place yourself in the others shoes.
"I understand your anger Abe, you have fought so well, so long, in such difficult circumstances...........you fear I am going to take all this from you?"
Angrily Abe turns
"Are you not?, you........you intend to take the fleet to one last great battle, to die immortalised in history, no?"
I have thought many times of that friend............many times
"Once, yes, I thought that. No, not now Admiral.................you keep the honour"
Abes eyes narrow."What are you proposing?"
Yamamato takes a deep breath 'you will continue to command all Navy units, air, sea, land. I, in turn, will take on Army, and with the Emperors help, get them into line, get them to finally co operate fully. You are to become a fleet in being, hit, run, no heroics, no suicidal operations. You will fight through 45.............."
'Another year?!"
"Another year, you must be prepared to live another year Admiral............war weariness will save us..............nothing else can now"
Abe turns away again, a single man atop of a floating city
'Alright, agreed"
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
-
Smoky Stoker
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Thu Mar 24, 2011 9:34 pm
RE: The little ship that could.
The Japanese historically valued experience more than physical fitness. Yamato and Musashi had elevators in their towers.
"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
RE: The little ship that could.
29th december
They are an old plane now, these Sonia light bombers
Built in 37, they have no place anywhere near the front lines.
Pilot Kato loves his.
His, Number 37, is old, stained, the paint worn from the leading edges, the tail. His seat creaks every time he sits upon it, and its leather is creased and cracked.
But No 37 has never let him down.
Her Bomb load is pathetic, but more than adequate for her current role in life.
Kato loves her manouverability, her solidness, her utter dependability. A simple machine, built for front line duty, for airfields with little support.
Here, in the Northern wastes of Japan, the Sonia still has a role to play.
From 5000 feet kato can see both sides of these straights, can view every inch of the storm wracked seas. And after 3 years here, he can see a Submarines periscopes wake as easily as an eagle sees a hare.
Today, there is known to be at least 5 allied SS in these waters, not an uncommon number. kato fully expects to see one today, at least.
The sky is grey, the ceiling 600 feet, a solid layer, the ocean even darker, wind swept, white capped, angry.
At 0730 exactly, his observer sights the tell tail wake.
'Contact!"
The radio bursts into life, calling the old hawks to here, to hopeefully the next kill. Across the breadth of these waters, the Sonias break their endless patrols, and come running.
Kato, as ever (for this is old work now) leaps into action.
Swiftly he banks his old bird, and dives to the attack.
The periscope is already slipping under, her skipper to cunning to expose it in these waters for but a moment.
Kato will have to guess........
The two bombs erupt, disturbances that will be swallowed by the sea.
he circles..........looking, looking.................but there is no oil, no debris.
"I Hope he crapped his pants" his observer wrily notes
"I hope he did more than that............never mind, it might keep his head down..............breakfast?"
"To, Task force 446:
SS attacked in channel, second one sighted. Take appropiate actions and precautions'
Ukagi smiles at the irony. take appropiate actions............what a joke. The SS wait in the straights, they must pass through the straights........what did Northern Command expect, that they would light themselves up like a christam tree?
Bloody fools.
They are an old plane now, these Sonia light bombers
Built in 37, they have no place anywhere near the front lines.
Pilot Kato loves his.
His, Number 37, is old, stained, the paint worn from the leading edges, the tail. His seat creaks every time he sits upon it, and its leather is creased and cracked.
But No 37 has never let him down.
Her Bomb load is pathetic, but more than adequate for her current role in life.
Kato loves her manouverability, her solidness, her utter dependability. A simple machine, built for front line duty, for airfields with little support.
Here, in the Northern wastes of Japan, the Sonia still has a role to play.
From 5000 feet kato can see both sides of these straights, can view every inch of the storm wracked seas. And after 3 years here, he can see a Submarines periscopes wake as easily as an eagle sees a hare.
Today, there is known to be at least 5 allied SS in these waters, not an uncommon number. kato fully expects to see one today, at least.
The sky is grey, the ceiling 600 feet, a solid layer, the ocean even darker, wind swept, white capped, angry.
At 0730 exactly, his observer sights the tell tail wake.
'Contact!"
The radio bursts into life, calling the old hawks to here, to hopeefully the next kill. Across the breadth of these waters, the Sonias break their endless patrols, and come running.
Kato, as ever (for this is old work now) leaps into action.
Swiftly he banks his old bird, and dives to the attack.
The periscope is already slipping under, her skipper to cunning to expose it in these waters for but a moment.
Kato will have to guess........
The two bombs erupt, disturbances that will be swallowed by the sea.
he circles..........looking, looking.................but there is no oil, no debris.
"I Hope he crapped his pants" his observer wrily notes
"I hope he did more than that............never mind, it might keep his head down..............breakfast?"
"To, Task force 446:
SS attacked in channel, second one sighted. Take appropiate actions and precautions'
Ukagi smiles at the irony. take appropiate actions............what a joke. The SS wait in the straights, they must pass through the straights........what did Northern Command expect, that they would light themselves up like a christam tree?
Bloody fools.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
30 December 1944
2320 hours
'target Bearing 270 degrees sir, heading 100, range 20000 yards, single vessel, probably a destroyer'
captain Smith nods..........out there in the pitch black some sneaky yellow son of a bitch was expecting to surprise them. Not tonight boy, not tonight.........
CL Santa fe, veteran of so many battles, of so many beatings, slides through the inky night, her guns slowly, steadily tracking the unseen target out there to port.
All is quiet, the hush before battle
"Bridge, radar, target is now 18000 yards, speed 26 knots, course still 100'
'is she transmitting?"
'If she is sir, her gear is not as good as ours........."
A cheeky buggar, hoping to slide into these waters near sorong undetected, a single ship, a salvo of long lances. 12 months ago, still an even chance.
But not now, you rat, not now..........
"Open fire, all ships, open fire"
The dark night is ripped apart........the white hot dots almost streaming out to a single point in the blackness, a point that silently erupts into yellow flame, flashes..........and now the sound of the explosions.
Destroyer hamanani (for that is who this tornado of fire is erupting against), briefly flares, tries to turn away, glows red........and vanishes.
"Cease fire, cease fire, cease fire'
"well done men............"
No fire returned, the action over in minutes.
Cold. hard. Ruthless, a technology inspired kill.
Technology, the art of applying science to the production of mass, efficient killing.
Something the americans are getting very, very good at.
2320 hours
'target Bearing 270 degrees sir, heading 100, range 20000 yards, single vessel, probably a destroyer'
captain Smith nods..........out there in the pitch black some sneaky yellow son of a bitch was expecting to surprise them. Not tonight boy, not tonight.........
CL Santa fe, veteran of so many battles, of so many beatings, slides through the inky night, her guns slowly, steadily tracking the unseen target out there to port.
All is quiet, the hush before battle
"Bridge, radar, target is now 18000 yards, speed 26 knots, course still 100'
'is she transmitting?"
'If she is sir, her gear is not as good as ours........."
A cheeky buggar, hoping to slide into these waters near sorong undetected, a single ship, a salvo of long lances. 12 months ago, still an even chance.
But not now, you rat, not now..........
"Open fire, all ships, open fire"
The dark night is ripped apart........the white hot dots almost streaming out to a single point in the blackness, a point that silently erupts into yellow flame, flashes..........and now the sound of the explosions.
Destroyer hamanani (for that is who this tornado of fire is erupting against), briefly flares, tries to turn away, glows red........and vanishes.
"Cease fire, cease fire, cease fire'
"well done men............"
No fire returned, the action over in minutes.
Cold. hard. Ruthless, a technology inspired kill.
Technology, the art of applying science to the production of mass, efficient killing.
Something the americans are getting very, very good at.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
30 december
2230 hours
""destroyer namikaze reports torpedo attack upon her, on her flank sir!"
breathless, Ukagi reaches his chair, eyes still adjusting to the dark
heavy rain, a pitching, crashing swell, utter darkness............
Buka......buka!, what the truk is going on!?................desperately trying to picture the convoys disposition.........
"Hands to action stations!...........full ahead Flank...........port 20!"
Blindly, in heaving seas, bitter cold dark, icy rain, Chiburi buries her bow, and races towards the battle...........
2230 hours
""destroyer namikaze reports torpedo attack upon her, on her flank sir!"
breathless, Ukagi reaches his chair, eyes still adjusting to the dark
heavy rain, a pitching, crashing swell, utter darkness............
Buka......buka!, what the truk is going on!?................desperately trying to picture the convoys disposition.........
"Hands to action stations!...........full ahead Flank...........port 20!"
Blindly, in heaving seas, bitter cold dark, icy rain, Chiburi buries her bow, and races towards the battle...........
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Okano and Hirate stumble to the starboard depth charge thrower, out from the realative warmth of below decks into the madness of the dark quarterdeck. Biting cold grips him, and salt spray, swiftly followed by the shock of a blast of solid sea water slams into him.
His job, with Hirate, is simple, muscle on the end of the rope and pully hauling the next charge into place.
Its a barsted of a business.
Within minutes, he is cold, wet, fingers going numb.
Chiburi is quatering across the swells, pitching and rolling madly, the white caps rolling into the red deck light glare, sliding past.
Others do not. Crashing, flowing over the decks, swirling about the shadows of the crew, legs braced, breakwaters to the torrents.
they are ready, and Okano is able to look about him, trying to pierce the night.
A starshell abruptly bursts an unknowable distance away. The other side of the convoy?" and oh so briefly, the sharp silhouette of one of the destroyers, heeling hard, guns swivelling
The thud of charges .barely heard, more felt above the wind and the waves
he finds himself shivering..........and tries to believe its the cold.
The little ship abruptly changes course, swinging now into the swells, pitching, plowing, ."Standby men!, " the Chief Bosun yells..but no more orders come
And then, like a mountain, the bows of one of the tankers looms, and the thud, thud, thud , of her diesel fills the world
His job, with Hirate, is simple, muscle on the end of the rope and pully hauling the next charge into place.
Its a barsted of a business.
Within minutes, he is cold, wet, fingers going numb.
Chiburi is quatering across the swells, pitching and rolling madly, the white caps rolling into the red deck light glare, sliding past.
Others do not. Crashing, flowing over the decks, swirling about the shadows of the crew, legs braced, breakwaters to the torrents.
they are ready, and Okano is able to look about him, trying to pierce the night.
A starshell abruptly bursts an unknowable distance away. The other side of the convoy?" and oh so briefly, the sharp silhouette of one of the destroyers, heeling hard, guns swivelling
The thud of charges .barely heard, more felt above the wind and the waves
he finds himself shivering..........and tries to believe its the cold.
The little ship abruptly changes course, swinging now into the swells, pitching, plowing, ."Standby men!, " the Chief Bosun yells..but no more orders come
And then, like a mountain, the bows of one of the tankers looms, and the thud, thud, thud , of her diesel fills the world
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
New years Eve
the heavies strike Manando, they attack Morotai.
This time, the fighters swarm against them, flinging themselves into the formations.
Planes, more Japanese than allied, go down on each side
The fields are only lightly damaged
The battle will continue tomorrow.
the heavies strike Manando, they attack Morotai.
This time, the fighters swarm against them, flinging themselves into the formations.
Planes, more Japanese than allied, go down on each side
The fields are only lightly damaged
The battle will continue tomorrow.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Ugaki has taken Chiburi madly up the port flank of the convoy............he is meant, according to his orders, to fall in with Mikura, and on her flank, commit to an attack.
from the start, it has gone horribly wrong
radar, as usual, fails him.
Not so much the glowing little screen, it works tonight, and he finds himself three times scuttling from the bridge to the little box of a room at the bridges rear, leaning over the operators shoulder, desperate to interpret the picture in front of him.
But it is all clutter, indistinguishable blobs, a screen of confusion.
Sonar, sonar pings away , into nothing...
The starsheel gives him a bearing.
"Starboard 30!"
He will move to the sound of the battle then.curse the dark, the rain, these seas!
The tanker is not seen until the last moment, hard on his starboard side,100 yards away, bow wave creaming.........
@#$%^^!!!!............Hard to PORT!, full astern!
Chiburi dances, a great swell raises he bow, breaks, pushes her around, the wall of steel sweeps past, so close you can see the rivets, Chiburi wallows, the world thuds, thuds, thuds, they miss by mere feet...........
The submarine attack is unsuccessful
The counter attack as well.
Chiburi..........well, the less said yes?
I am sure she will get to try again.
from the start, it has gone horribly wrong
radar, as usual, fails him.
Not so much the glowing little screen, it works tonight, and he finds himself three times scuttling from the bridge to the little box of a room at the bridges rear, leaning over the operators shoulder, desperate to interpret the picture in front of him.
But it is all clutter, indistinguishable blobs, a screen of confusion.
Sonar, sonar pings away , into nothing...
The starsheel gives him a bearing.
"Starboard 30!"
He will move to the sound of the battle then.curse the dark, the rain, these seas!
The tanker is not seen until the last moment, hard on his starboard side,100 yards away, bow wave creaming.........
@#$%^^!!!!............Hard to PORT!, full astern!
Chiburi dances, a great swell raises he bow, breaks, pushes her around, the wall of steel sweeps past, so close you can see the rivets, Chiburi wallows, the world thuds, thuds, thuds, they miss by mere feet...........
The submarine attack is unsuccessful
The counter attack as well.
Chiburi..........well, the less said yes?
I am sure she will get to try again.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
The dam breaks
Wuchow falls, shattering almost all the Japanese forces in Western China
Canton is ordered evacuated, Hong kong too.
Another finger around the neck of the chicken.
Wuchow falls, shattering almost all the Japanese forces in Western China
Canton is ordered evacuated, Hong kong too.
Another finger around the neck of the chicken.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
New years day
There are 36 B-29s this time, glittering, beautiful, deadly.
They fly in a dead straight line towards the target at just 10000 feet.
Mission, to put the last nails into the coffin of Manando airfield, to close it forever.
They follow by half an hour 30 odd liberators, how they have performed is unknown
That the fighters were waiting in swarms, is.
Long pig has climbed to the remote gunners position, settled , as best he can, into a position behind him. The difference in the technology between the wellingtons that are still being used in Thialand to this beast is almost overwhelming.
Pressurisation, these remote controlled guns, auto pilots..................somewhere up here, he is sure, there is a kitchen sink
The remote control operates in a very simple way. The operator points his sights at the target, and what guns that can follow, do........
Childs play.
But childs play with a murderous intent.
'target twenty minutes"
the gunner grins, swings the sights, cocks elecronically the guns.............
it seems brutally impersonal..
The first fighters swing in only minutes later, small darting shapes that streak in from the flanks, dive away underneath, peel away to the rear, to the front.
The guns chatter, the casings rain inside, one thing has not changed from the wellingtons, the stink of the cordite...
"target 2 minutes"
Manando, jungle, a clearing, the strips, the ocean point it nestles on...........the rising flack, the bursts, the faint rattle of shrapnel, the bombs falling, the explosions, smoke, destruction below,
He's seen it many times now, and Long pig never gets used to it, the way the shock waves spread, bounce of each other........
With out loss, the formation turns for home.
The gunner grins again....."Hey Long pig, fancy a go?"
'You sure?"
A hand dismissively waves........... skies clear, no Tojo will catch us now!
Almost eagerly Long pig swaps position. The guns swing so easily to his touch.
And another fighter floats into his vision....
KI 44...........chasing, coming in on the rear quarter..........he hardly has to adjust............range a bit too far........but I won't get another chance......
The guns spit
The Tojo rolls, drunkedly..........flames burst bright..........it falls away
Well buggar me................
The gunner is not grinning now..........."you barsted!, he should have been mine!"
There are 36 B-29s this time, glittering, beautiful, deadly.
They fly in a dead straight line towards the target at just 10000 feet.
Mission, to put the last nails into the coffin of Manando airfield, to close it forever.
They follow by half an hour 30 odd liberators, how they have performed is unknown
That the fighters were waiting in swarms, is.
Long pig has climbed to the remote gunners position, settled , as best he can, into a position behind him. The difference in the technology between the wellingtons that are still being used in Thialand to this beast is almost overwhelming.
Pressurisation, these remote controlled guns, auto pilots..................somewhere up here, he is sure, there is a kitchen sink
The remote control operates in a very simple way. The operator points his sights at the target, and what guns that can follow, do........
Childs play.
But childs play with a murderous intent.
'target twenty minutes"
the gunner grins, swings the sights, cocks elecronically the guns.............
it seems brutally impersonal..
The first fighters swing in only minutes later, small darting shapes that streak in from the flanks, dive away underneath, peel away to the rear, to the front.
The guns chatter, the casings rain inside, one thing has not changed from the wellingtons, the stink of the cordite...
"target 2 minutes"
Manando, jungle, a clearing, the strips, the ocean point it nestles on...........the rising flack, the bursts, the faint rattle of shrapnel, the bombs falling, the explosions, smoke, destruction below,
He's seen it many times now, and Long pig never gets used to it, the way the shock waves spread, bounce of each other........
With out loss, the formation turns for home.
The gunner grins again....."Hey Long pig, fancy a go?"
'You sure?"
A hand dismissively waves........... skies clear, no Tojo will catch us now!
Almost eagerly Long pig swaps position. The guns swing so easily to his touch.
And another fighter floats into his vision....
KI 44...........chasing, coming in on the rear quarter..........he hardly has to adjust............range a bit too far........but I won't get another chance......
The guns spit
The Tojo rolls, drunkedly..........flames burst bright..........it falls away
Well buggar me................
The gunner is not grinning now..........."you barsted!, he should have been mine!"
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
Even as the battle bursts above Manando, she strikes out.
39 oscars at 100 feet attack 3 destroyers lurking near Ternate, straffing, bombing.
DD Walker takes a bomber..........3 fighters are lost
One, burning, 'gives his life for the emperor', and plants his fighter firmly into the Robinson's bridge.
One man, one plane, one ship.
How many ships to Tokyo?
39 oscars at 100 feet attack 3 destroyers lurking near Ternate, straffing, bombing.
DD Walker takes a bomber..........3 fighters are lost
One, burning, 'gives his life for the emperor', and plants his fighter firmly into the Robinson's bridge.
One man, one plane, one ship.
How many ships to Tokyo?
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
(deliberate attack Chumphon...........1 to 2, forts down to 3, 1600 casos both sides)
'Under heavy fire"
'With fierce detirmination"
"Against fierce resistance"
"hand to hand"
'Courage"
"valour"
"Despite heavy casualties"
terms
Just terms.
how the papers will fill todays pages with descriptions of the battle that bursts upon Chumpon.
A bloody hell,
Inhumane
Savage
brutal
Bloody
we might dare to describe it.
'Push on"
"No let up"
'Objeectives will be met, regardless of cost"
the HQ's will speak off it, order it to continue.............
The men, who struggle, scream, kill, die, bleed, collapse with despair, commit the unspeakable to carry it out.
They will never speak of it.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
2 jan 45
Ugaki peers out through the bridges screen, the wipers beating fruitlesslly against the driving snow.
It is still utterly dark, and utterly cold.
The bridge side door opens, and the charge enters, blowing his hands, trying to get warm
"You have got to be kidding",he grunbles, do you think we will ever be warm again?
'No....and not likely to be for a while...............are your engines ready?"
"Yes............those two new men are good..........I think I will keep them in the engine room, move Toyoda to day working"
"Toyoda work?..........that is what they call an oxy moron isn't it?'
The Charge laughs..............peers to out through the screen. 'Our convoy Commander drives a hard pace, I hardly had time to get drunk last night"
'the empire needs oil my friend to keep the home fires burning""
"Oh I know sir, 100 million hearts beating as one, and all that , but gods, does it have to involve freezing my balls off?"
Task force 446 sails before dawn, hidden by the driving snow.
There are 5 known ss in the wakkanai straights ahead of them.
Ugaki peers out through the bridges screen, the wipers beating fruitlesslly against the driving snow.
It is still utterly dark, and utterly cold.
The bridge side door opens, and the charge enters, blowing his hands, trying to get warm
"You have got to be kidding",he grunbles, do you think we will ever be warm again?
'No....and not likely to be for a while...............are your engines ready?"
"Yes............those two new men are good..........I think I will keep them in the engine room, move Toyoda to day working"
"Toyoda work?..........that is what they call an oxy moron isn't it?'
The Charge laughs..............peers to out through the screen. 'Our convoy Commander drives a hard pace, I hardly had time to get drunk last night"
'the empire needs oil my friend to keep the home fires burning""
"Oh I know sir, 100 million hearts beating as one, and all that , but gods, does it have to involve freezing my balls off?"
Task force 446 sails before dawn, hidden by the driving snow.
There are 5 known ss in the wakkanai straights ahead of them.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
3 jan 45
From 11th Army, to
Southern Command
Enemy attack continues.
My coastal flank turned.
Continuing resistance.
Should reinforcements fail to arrive within days cannot guarrantee a successful defence.
Will fight to last man, last bullet.
Long live the emperor.
From 11th Army, to
Southern Command
Enemy attack continues.
My coastal flank turned.
Continuing resistance.
Should reinforcements fail to arrive within days cannot guarrantee a successful defence.
Will fight to last man, last bullet.
Long live the emperor.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt
RE: The little ship that could.
4th jan 45
Hirate leans over the side of Chiburi, arm outstretched.
'Come on you barsted, try!"
The man clinging to the scrambling net raises his oil covered face, despair dark in his eyes.
For a moment their eyes meet.
Two pools of darkness..........unfathomable.
Unforgettable.
A slight shake of the head, and the man lets go, tumbles into the dark waters, vanishes
"TRUK!" screams Hirate...........so truking close...............so truking close.
Tanker Setsuzan maru has been sunk.
4 survivors
It should have been 5........so truking close.
The single ship convoy plows on, chiburi trawling the wreckage one last time.
But the night remains dark. Soon it will begin to snow again.
Hirate leans over the side of Chiburi, arm outstretched.
'Come on you barsted, try!"
The man clinging to the scrambling net raises his oil covered face, despair dark in his eyes.
For a moment their eyes meet.
Two pools of darkness..........unfathomable.
Unforgettable.
A slight shake of the head, and the man lets go, tumbles into the dark waters, vanishes
"TRUK!" screams Hirate...........so truking close...............so truking close.
Tanker Setsuzan maru has been sunk.
4 survivors
It should have been 5........so truking close.
The single ship convoy plows on, chiburi trawling the wreckage one last time.
But the night remains dark. Soon it will begin to snow again.
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt