June 30th 1942
Noumea
Colonel Sam Wagner was in town and Wob was making the best of a bit of time out from the pressure to chew the cud with an old mate from home. Sam was a neighbourhood friend who had chosen the inferior arm of the forces to make his career. They both sat outside on easy recliners and listened to the night sounds of Noumea; it had recently rained and all the bugs that had been taking shelter could now come out and chorus possible mates.
Sam took a long draft of his single malt, swirled it upon his tongue to savour the taste and maybe to extract a bit of dutch courage from a Scottish concoction; “Just what the hell are you playing at with this plan of yours Wob?”
“You’ve shortened the lines and believe me us ground pounders like to have warm chow and plenty of ammo but I am pretty sure you would have been having trouble sitting on an arse that must have been red raw from being chewed out. The Yanks are calling you yellow, the Poms are just more subtle and the Aussies think you don’t care about their citizens… so do you, care I mean?”
The question cut, especially from a friend who had grown up with him, knew he was compassionate and also knew he had been the strategist of their group; the one who won the board games and the logic quizzes. However, Wob had been asking this question so often of himself lately that he had come to embrace it like a mantra: fall back, re-supply and attack from a position of strength – simple.
“Sam” he sighed
“I thought I wouldn’t have to keep answering that question, do you want to know something? When the Japs took Luganville I was sure they would do it in force, I even wanted it to happen, I wanted to say ‘look: I told you so’. I had five fleet carriers ready to jump all over them and play merry hell with their plans, and then they up and disappear again!!”
“If it hadn’t been for the Saratoga launching on the remnants of Lee’s little night ambush we wouldn’t have netted anything. I was fortunate it managed to launch at all the weather was that bad, Spruance and Mitscher were completely socked in.”
Sam nodded knowingly, the papers had been ecstatic but the lack of follow up had already started to turn the tide of public opinion again.
“Well Sam, the 1st Marines have left Wellington now, they and the Wasp should arrive at about the same time and then I will have a really capable force for the invasions that are going to roll this fetid yellow carpet all the way back to Tokyo. The Japs hold the power until I can get enough forces to persuade them that staying down this far south is really against their better interests. There will be time enough to prove your prowess in combat.”
“Until I can get that equality, I need to snipe; attack with long-range bombers and submarines, cause a nuisance of myself but stay away from outnumbered encounters that have a high probability of defeat.”
120 Miles South of Japanese Base “Woodlark Island”
Davis scanned the horizon, most of the weather had cleared and a half moon was starting to rise. S-47 had been everywhere the enemy was not during the last 2 ½ weeks. Defend Luganville, no, back to Townsville, no, halfway there and you are the closest to a floatplane base at Woodlark – go there! Would the make up their god d@mned mind!
Repairs had been holding and really the sub was in very good shape, half the world might be Japanese but not this particular spot, you had to look for a silver lining wherever you could find one.
After the incredible luck at the beginning of this campaign the extended lull was starting to get boring. Suddenly he smiled – who was he kidding – no one was shooting at him either, plenty of time for that, why push your luck?
Brisbane
Dan leant against the bar and watched the aussies in the corner play two up. The game involved throwing two coins into the air and then predicting the outcome of how the coins would land. It seemed completely up to mother luck as to winning the game; he’d rather use his money to further his drinking habit. The beers he had consumed had already added a cozy hue to the wooden shack that passed for a serviceman’s bar, he felt more serenity than if he was at Bonnydoon.
The USS Chicago had been tied up at Brisbane Port for over a fortnight. Most of the overhaul was complete and the damage caused by all of the steaming in and out of Port Moresby had been repaired. Most of the crew had been released to take in the sights and sounds of Brisbane. Although this wasn’t new to most, it still had an adventure quality to it and most of the men also knew they would see combat soon so life was being lived in hedonistic recklessness.
He thought he had got lucky and the Japs had decided the other side of the lake was to be their target but their effort had stopped after it had barely begun. Now the talk amongst warship crews was where the wily Jap was going to concentrate his putsch.
Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
The calm before...
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The tables get turned
Sorry this is so long in coming – I have been a little lax in my duties!!
7th July 1942
Off the Coast of Woodlark Islands
Davis sat at his small Captain’s room desk, a map of Woodlark Island laid out in front of himself and his Executive officer. The island itself was relatively small; its only interest being to birds and sea life before the Japanese had decided it was a good pitstop on the way to battles further south. They had landed some troops and it looked like they were constructing an airfield, although it could just have been fortifications (the view through a periscope was not exactly definitive). Naval intelligence, such as it was, had information about a seaplane tender and some transport shipping providing the needed supplies for whatever it was the Japs were constructing. The trouble was: Davis had been here for 4 days now and hadn’t seen anything bigger than the Tohatsu barges he had been killing.
So far this had been a piece of cake, the sub had the enormous advantage of sonar. Using it meant that the sub could surface and get into killing distance without the barge drivers having any idea about their impending doom until the first round of the 4 inch deck gun was inbound. The barges sat so low in the water that the sailors didn’t have much chance of spotting a sub closing on them; as long as you didn’t approach too quickly and create a prominent bow wave.
They had just been given new orders though: battleships had been sighted around their old haunt of the Shortland Island base. Davis and his exec were discussing the tactics they thought would be most fruitful against the escorts a Capital ship would likely have in attendance. S-47 had done excellently so far in its South Pacific campaign but their target had in most cases been a singular ship.
“Captain to sonar”
Both men looked at each other and got up from the table to head to sonar.
“It’s another of those barges by the blade count sir.”
Davis motioned for the headphones; he was a captain that liked to know about everything each of his men did. The sound over them washed in and out with the surface conditions and the distance, but a rapid whir was obvious above the ambient ocean noises.
“Anything else out there?”
“Not that I have managed to find sir.”
“Alright, lets take her up to periscope depth”.
S-47 had been running at 40 Meters for most of the day. Davis knew that his destruction of their barges would have made the Japs vigilant in their attempts to find him so he had been spending most of the day submerged, surfacing only to refresh the air and run on diesels to top up the batteries. The other reason became obvious as the sub came closer to the surface: weather. A gusty wind was blowing the furious tropical downpour about in sheets. Visibility was low, sunset due in about 15 minutes; Davis did a quick 360-degree search and then settled on a bearing in front of the sub’s heaving bow; the direction sonar had tentatively given him, and there, hauling itself through the vicious chop was another of the barges. It was only about 200 yards in front of the sub; her sonar’s already poor performance further degraded by the surface conditions had meant they picked up the barge at very close range.
Davis mulled over the situation: the weather would make firing the deck gun difficult; firing torpedoes, aside from being a waste, was also likely to end in tears as the flat bottomed boat could be high upon a swell allowing the torps to miss underneath, maybe he should just give it away as a bad idea and head for Shortlands now? It didn’t bear thinking about really, he was here to fight and this should be a one-way battle.
“Deck gun crew ready for action, we have a Tohatsu barge that requires sinking”.
This prompted a grin from the gun crew – they had enjoyed their target practise of previous nights.
“Take her up chief.” Davis said quietly.
The sub creaked as the pressure was released, the deck gun crew quickly ascending through the conning tower as the sub got to the surface. Davis followed, leaving his exec to look after the main control room. The surface conditions were worse in real life. The sub was wallowing about in a nose-on sea, she would tilt forward and backwards with the swell; basically the worst gun firing conditions that could be wished for. Davis scanned the sea in front of the sub in time to notice the barge disappearing over a swell. His crew, fixed to bad weather lines, began working the deck gun. Davis waited, a cold sweat forming under his oilskin storm hat.
Karrrumphh!! The gun fired. A cloud of cordite fumes washed over him, its distinctive smell reminding him of live fire exercises and battle; but the shell missed, sending up a fountain of spray forward of the squat barge. The gun crew grappled with their heaving weapon, trying to empty the chamber and home another round. Davis looked up at the barge; it had started a turn to starboard. Suddenly a flashing light started in the centre stern of the barge. His first though was that shrapnel from the shot had started a fire but then something hit the rim of the conning tower he was standing behind and ‘ricocheted’ away into the gathering dark.
Sh1t, they were being fired at! After a brief pause the barge fired again, Davis watched the froth of short falls before the incoming rounds hit the deck gun and a crewman and then struck low on the conning tower before the final rounds of the burst punched through the steel beside him. He ducked instinctively behind the dubious cover of the conning tower. Another burst flew past over his head before another round pierced the steel; then another, this one burrowing under the paint around the inside of the oval shaped aperture like a furious mole before the change in trajectory became too much and the shell exited the rear of the tower lip.
Karrumphh! The deck gun had fired again. Davis swallowed his fear and stood. The second round had hit the barge! It had struck the centre of the little vessel and then exploded into the bow, blowing most of it away like the hand of god. Then the conditions that had thwarted their first shot came to their rescue. A wave larger than the rest broke against the ragged nose of the barge, without a bow the deluge of water simply swamped it. A last forlorn burst of fire reached into the sky and then the barge was gone.
The crew below him were tending to the injured man, but even from his vantage point Davis could tell he was dead, his rib cage opened out like a death flower.
“Do your best for him guys, but for heavens sake, we have to secure the gun and get the hell out of here” Davis yelled forward.
Suddenly he smelled smoke, turning he noticed a steady cloud of it pouring out of the hatchway into the sub. Without thinking he slid down into the control room. It was a haze of smoke and commotion, someone was squirting a fire extinguisher at a bright wall of fire and to add to the mayhem a waterfall of water was pouring in from a foot long gash in the lower conning tower.
“Exec” yelled Davis, before a smoke filled lung forced him into a fit of coughing.
“Sir” came the reply.
“Lets turn the boat around so we don’t have to wear the water ploughing into this weather and get some more men on the fire”.
The exec gave him a filthy look as if to say “and what do you think I am doing” but then shouted orders to the helm and the S-47 began to turn to run with the weather.
Four hours later the fires were out and a makeshift wooden repair had been made on the conning tower rupture. One man had died and four were injured. The boat could no longer submerge; although a welding team was doing its best to plate over the hole it would not be able to support any real depth. The fire had ruined most of the delicate controls and they had taken on a sizable quantity of water.
The decision was simple really; they had to return to Townsville and repair, there would be no battleships this patrol for the S-47. They would be thankful for their lives if they could make the long trip back to Townsville without falling foul of aircraft.
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 07/11/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
Sub attack near Woodlark Island at 22,39
Japanese Ships
AG 2056, Shell hits 1, on fire, heavy damage
Allied Ships
SS S-47, Shell hits 3, on fire
S-47 is 27 Sys damage and 32 flooding – she will make it to Townsville as long as she is not hit again.
7th July 1942
Off the Coast of Woodlark Islands
Davis sat at his small Captain’s room desk, a map of Woodlark Island laid out in front of himself and his Executive officer. The island itself was relatively small; its only interest being to birds and sea life before the Japanese had decided it was a good pitstop on the way to battles further south. They had landed some troops and it looked like they were constructing an airfield, although it could just have been fortifications (the view through a periscope was not exactly definitive). Naval intelligence, such as it was, had information about a seaplane tender and some transport shipping providing the needed supplies for whatever it was the Japs were constructing. The trouble was: Davis had been here for 4 days now and hadn’t seen anything bigger than the Tohatsu barges he had been killing.
So far this had been a piece of cake, the sub had the enormous advantage of sonar. Using it meant that the sub could surface and get into killing distance without the barge drivers having any idea about their impending doom until the first round of the 4 inch deck gun was inbound. The barges sat so low in the water that the sailors didn’t have much chance of spotting a sub closing on them; as long as you didn’t approach too quickly and create a prominent bow wave.
They had just been given new orders though: battleships had been sighted around their old haunt of the Shortland Island base. Davis and his exec were discussing the tactics they thought would be most fruitful against the escorts a Capital ship would likely have in attendance. S-47 had done excellently so far in its South Pacific campaign but their target had in most cases been a singular ship.
“Captain to sonar”
Both men looked at each other and got up from the table to head to sonar.
“It’s another of those barges by the blade count sir.”
Davis motioned for the headphones; he was a captain that liked to know about everything each of his men did. The sound over them washed in and out with the surface conditions and the distance, but a rapid whir was obvious above the ambient ocean noises.
“Anything else out there?”
“Not that I have managed to find sir.”
“Alright, lets take her up to periscope depth”.
S-47 had been running at 40 Meters for most of the day. Davis knew that his destruction of their barges would have made the Japs vigilant in their attempts to find him so he had been spending most of the day submerged, surfacing only to refresh the air and run on diesels to top up the batteries. The other reason became obvious as the sub came closer to the surface: weather. A gusty wind was blowing the furious tropical downpour about in sheets. Visibility was low, sunset due in about 15 minutes; Davis did a quick 360-degree search and then settled on a bearing in front of the sub’s heaving bow; the direction sonar had tentatively given him, and there, hauling itself through the vicious chop was another of the barges. It was only about 200 yards in front of the sub; her sonar’s already poor performance further degraded by the surface conditions had meant they picked up the barge at very close range.
Davis mulled over the situation: the weather would make firing the deck gun difficult; firing torpedoes, aside from being a waste, was also likely to end in tears as the flat bottomed boat could be high upon a swell allowing the torps to miss underneath, maybe he should just give it away as a bad idea and head for Shortlands now? It didn’t bear thinking about really, he was here to fight and this should be a one-way battle.
“Deck gun crew ready for action, we have a Tohatsu barge that requires sinking”.
This prompted a grin from the gun crew – they had enjoyed their target practise of previous nights.
“Take her up chief.” Davis said quietly.
The sub creaked as the pressure was released, the deck gun crew quickly ascending through the conning tower as the sub got to the surface. Davis followed, leaving his exec to look after the main control room. The surface conditions were worse in real life. The sub was wallowing about in a nose-on sea, she would tilt forward and backwards with the swell; basically the worst gun firing conditions that could be wished for. Davis scanned the sea in front of the sub in time to notice the barge disappearing over a swell. His crew, fixed to bad weather lines, began working the deck gun. Davis waited, a cold sweat forming under his oilskin storm hat.
Karrrumphh!! The gun fired. A cloud of cordite fumes washed over him, its distinctive smell reminding him of live fire exercises and battle; but the shell missed, sending up a fountain of spray forward of the squat barge. The gun crew grappled with their heaving weapon, trying to empty the chamber and home another round. Davis looked up at the barge; it had started a turn to starboard. Suddenly a flashing light started in the centre stern of the barge. His first though was that shrapnel from the shot had started a fire but then something hit the rim of the conning tower he was standing behind and ‘ricocheted’ away into the gathering dark.
Sh1t, they were being fired at! After a brief pause the barge fired again, Davis watched the froth of short falls before the incoming rounds hit the deck gun and a crewman and then struck low on the conning tower before the final rounds of the burst punched through the steel beside him. He ducked instinctively behind the dubious cover of the conning tower. Another burst flew past over his head before another round pierced the steel; then another, this one burrowing under the paint around the inside of the oval shaped aperture like a furious mole before the change in trajectory became too much and the shell exited the rear of the tower lip.
Karrumphh! The deck gun had fired again. Davis swallowed his fear and stood. The second round had hit the barge! It had struck the centre of the little vessel and then exploded into the bow, blowing most of it away like the hand of god. Then the conditions that had thwarted their first shot came to their rescue. A wave larger than the rest broke against the ragged nose of the barge, without a bow the deluge of water simply swamped it. A last forlorn burst of fire reached into the sky and then the barge was gone.
The crew below him were tending to the injured man, but even from his vantage point Davis could tell he was dead, his rib cage opened out like a death flower.
“Do your best for him guys, but for heavens sake, we have to secure the gun and get the hell out of here” Davis yelled forward.
Suddenly he smelled smoke, turning he noticed a steady cloud of it pouring out of the hatchway into the sub. Without thinking he slid down into the control room. It was a haze of smoke and commotion, someone was squirting a fire extinguisher at a bright wall of fire and to add to the mayhem a waterfall of water was pouring in from a foot long gash in the lower conning tower.
“Exec” yelled Davis, before a smoke filled lung forced him into a fit of coughing.
“Sir” came the reply.
“Lets turn the boat around so we don’t have to wear the water ploughing into this weather and get some more men on the fire”.
The exec gave him a filthy look as if to say “and what do you think I am doing” but then shouted orders to the helm and the S-47 began to turn to run with the weather.
Four hours later the fires were out and a makeshift wooden repair had been made on the conning tower rupture. One man had died and four were injured. The boat could no longer submerge; although a welding team was doing its best to plate over the hole it would not be able to support any real depth. The fire had ruined most of the delicate controls and they had taken on a sizable quantity of water.
The decision was simple really; they had to return to Townsville and repair, there would be no battleships this patrol for the S-47. They would be thankful for their lives if they could make the long trip back to Townsville without falling foul of aircraft.
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 07/11/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
Sub attack near Woodlark Island at 22,39
Japanese Ships
AG 2056, Shell hits 1, on fire, heavy damage
Allied Ships
SS S-47, Shell hits 3, on fire
S-47 is 27 Sys damage and 32 flooding – she will make it to Townsville as long as she is not hit again.
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Gathering Storm
30 Miles North East of Townsville
Davis breathed a lungful of the early morning air. The smell of the sea; wrongly named it was actually things rotting on the land, filled his senses and made him feel alive. His mind, like a caged animal screamed at him: but you haven’t made it yet, the Jap planes could reach out and find you, strike you down, kill you like Evans. He sighed, thoughts like this had been driving him to the edge. The trip back to Townsville had been a nightmare of hiding from aircraft and at one stage a passing Transport Task Force, and at others crash-diving from a float plane. On that occasion the temporary repair had given way. The boat had still been filled with extra water from a ruptured ballast tank and more that appeared to be leaking in from another unknown strike. The extra pressures of 10 metres of water had been too much for the welds and the patch had popped into the control room like a steel cork, behind it the South Pacific just waiting to add S-47 to its list of sunken trophies. They had been forced to surface again (and thankfully they had managed it) only to find the floatplane hadn’t left the scene. It had dropped two small bombs and strafed the sub but the bombs had missed and the small calibre machine gun rounds had not had enough power to penetrate the hull. Foul weather had saved the day, as surely the pilot would have called friends; S-47 lived again.
Now he could see the haze on the horizon that gave away the presence of land, which coupled with the smell meant they were nearly home. His crew and his ship were surely due some down time….
Brisbane Harbour
Dan looked out over the sights of his 5-inch gun. The Australia was carving through the small swell within easy reach of his weapon. He imagined leading the ship on it’s current heading and his round striking home, just musings of course…
Under Wilkinson a surface force of 13 warships, 4 Heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, 6 Destroyers and 2 Destroyer minesweepers were heading towards the Island of New Guinea to cause trouble. Reports had come in that the Japs had been contemptuously marching their transport ships to GiliGili and Port Moresby. Theur job was to wake the Jap up to the fact they had been resting on their laurels for too long and now the allies were ready to start fighting back. Their job, according to the pep talk the Admiral had given was to sit below New Guinea and then race in to one of the harbours and cause merry hell. They had already seen plenty of Port Moresby but this time they came bearing gifts of fire and pain. Are you ready Jap, thought Dan?
35 Miles East of Noumea Harbour
Adams was on early morning CAP. He and two other F4f-3s were slightly north of the invasion armada but still it was visible. Without doubt this was the largest display of Military power Adams had ever seen. His own Carrier Yorktown and its escorts Leading 20 transport ships laden with the invasion forces of a regiment of the Americal Division plus support and holding forces. To the port and starboard of the invasion forces were two more two-carrier task forces and following up the rear were the surface force of Lee’s Cruisers and Destroyers. This of course was not all as the last Fleet carrier of the fleet was making a rendezvous tomorrow. Wasp was going to be joining the air combat Task force lead by the Yorktown and with it the number of aircraft this mighty armada topped 400. The coordination of all these planes was proving a problem; they had been practicing getting an anti naval strike off the decks as quickly as possible. It did not take an aircraft designer to realize the Japs would want to contest the liberation of the Efate Islands!
Davis breathed a lungful of the early morning air. The smell of the sea; wrongly named it was actually things rotting on the land, filled his senses and made him feel alive. His mind, like a caged animal screamed at him: but you haven’t made it yet, the Jap planes could reach out and find you, strike you down, kill you like Evans. He sighed, thoughts like this had been driving him to the edge. The trip back to Townsville had been a nightmare of hiding from aircraft and at one stage a passing Transport Task Force, and at others crash-diving from a float plane. On that occasion the temporary repair had given way. The boat had still been filled with extra water from a ruptured ballast tank and more that appeared to be leaking in from another unknown strike. The extra pressures of 10 metres of water had been too much for the welds and the patch had popped into the control room like a steel cork, behind it the South Pacific just waiting to add S-47 to its list of sunken trophies. They had been forced to surface again (and thankfully they had managed it) only to find the floatplane hadn’t left the scene. It had dropped two small bombs and strafed the sub but the bombs had missed and the small calibre machine gun rounds had not had enough power to penetrate the hull. Foul weather had saved the day, as surely the pilot would have called friends; S-47 lived again.
Now he could see the haze on the horizon that gave away the presence of land, which coupled with the smell meant they were nearly home. His crew and his ship were surely due some down time….
Brisbane Harbour
Dan looked out over the sights of his 5-inch gun. The Australia was carving through the small swell within easy reach of his weapon. He imagined leading the ship on it’s current heading and his round striking home, just musings of course…
Under Wilkinson a surface force of 13 warships, 4 Heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, 6 Destroyers and 2 Destroyer minesweepers were heading towards the Island of New Guinea to cause trouble. Reports had come in that the Japs had been contemptuously marching their transport ships to GiliGili and Port Moresby. Theur job was to wake the Jap up to the fact they had been resting on their laurels for too long and now the allies were ready to start fighting back. Their job, according to the pep talk the Admiral had given was to sit below New Guinea and then race in to one of the harbours and cause merry hell. They had already seen plenty of Port Moresby but this time they came bearing gifts of fire and pain. Are you ready Jap, thought Dan?
35 Miles East of Noumea Harbour
Adams was on early morning CAP. He and two other F4f-3s were slightly north of the invasion armada but still it was visible. Without doubt this was the largest display of Military power Adams had ever seen. His own Carrier Yorktown and its escorts Leading 20 transport ships laden with the invasion forces of a regiment of the Americal Division plus support and holding forces. To the port and starboard of the invasion forces were two more two-carrier task forces and following up the rear were the surface force of Lee’s Cruisers and Destroyers. This of course was not all as the last Fleet carrier of the fleet was making a rendezvous tomorrow. Wasp was going to be joining the air combat Task force lead by the Yorktown and with it the number of aircraft this mighty armada topped 400. The coordination of all these planes was proving a problem; they had been practicing getting an anti naval strike off the decks as quickly as possible. It did not take an aircraft designer to realize the Japs would want to contest the liberation of the Efate Islands!
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Oz or bust?
21st July 1942
Noumea - Morning
Wob smiled as he read the dispatch from Adm Spruance who was now somewhere North of the Efate island group:
“One wonders where they would be if they didn’t know we were coming.”
The day before Spruance had ordered strikes against the garrison at Efate despite Wob ordering an approach in silence. Raymond had remonstrated that his orders had been a day old and no longer fit the tactical situation. In truth wob had been still a little reticent about his belief in the Naval forces he had to take on a warned Japanese adversary. This morning that feeling had seemed justified. A Japanese light cruiser and destroyer Task force had swept into Efate’s main bay and been in range of the invasion fleet. Lee, in charge of the surface forces defending the invasion had given battle. The outcome was still uncertain but the Northampton had definitely been lost, although most of the crew had been saved, and some serious injury to a destroyer and light damage to the Hobart. The Japanese had apparently fared far worse and it was this ragtag group, trying to retreat to Japanese waters, that Spruance was about to fall on like a tonne of bricks.
“If only I had a good indication about where the Jap flat tops were I could keep the pressure on with the carriers”. Wob thought.
He scanned the rest of the messages and found a sit rep from the surface combat task force under Wilkinson. Those ships were lining themselves up for a strike against transport shipping milling around in Gili Gili.
Mid Coral Sea – US Heavy Cruiser Chicago – Early afternoon
Dan scanned the skies. The ship had just been bought to general quarters to receive air attack. Apparently Jap floatplanes, and more ominously, a Jap carrier based bomber had been sighted. The men of his crew waited for targets but the morning stretched out with little to worry about.
He was about to get on the horn to order some sandwiches when the unmistakable bark of AAA could be heard across the water. Dan waited for something to shoot at and the firing did continue for about 4 minutes but then the firing slackened off.
“Well what the hell was that?” he commented to a crewmate.
His partner had no idea, but again as is always the case on a ship the story filtered down that the other side of the task force had been attacked by floatplanes. No hits were recorded but a few Jap flyers were not going to be drinking Saki tonight. Suddenly the ship changed course and headed almost due west. The weather came in and the ships were soon steaming through the more typical tropical fare of heavy rain.
Noumea – early Afternoon
Wob and his team were standing over the situation table. Things were coming together now. From what he could tell Spruance had just finished of a couple of light cruisers and some destroyers. More ominously was Jap carriers reported by seagulls off the cruisers in the Coral Sea! How Wilkinson had managed to sidestep destruction was beyond Wob but his new orders were for them to make best speed back to Townsville. Knowing where some of the enemy carriers were meant Wob had ordered Spruance to push north towards Nevea to see if he couldn’t add to the disruption he must be casing Jap high command.
The obvious conclusion had to be made though: transport shipping stockpiling in Gili, tankers sighted there too; now carriers and a heavy surface force; Australia was about to feel the wrath of the Jap armada – but where would they strike?
Noumea - Morning
Wob smiled as he read the dispatch from Adm Spruance who was now somewhere North of the Efate island group:
“One wonders where they would be if they didn’t know we were coming.”
The day before Spruance had ordered strikes against the garrison at Efate despite Wob ordering an approach in silence. Raymond had remonstrated that his orders had been a day old and no longer fit the tactical situation. In truth wob had been still a little reticent about his belief in the Naval forces he had to take on a warned Japanese adversary. This morning that feeling had seemed justified. A Japanese light cruiser and destroyer Task force had swept into Efate’s main bay and been in range of the invasion fleet. Lee, in charge of the surface forces defending the invasion had given battle. The outcome was still uncertain but the Northampton had definitely been lost, although most of the crew had been saved, and some serious injury to a destroyer and light damage to the Hobart. The Japanese had apparently fared far worse and it was this ragtag group, trying to retreat to Japanese waters, that Spruance was about to fall on like a tonne of bricks.
“If only I had a good indication about where the Jap flat tops were I could keep the pressure on with the carriers”. Wob thought.
He scanned the rest of the messages and found a sit rep from the surface combat task force under Wilkinson. Those ships were lining themselves up for a strike against transport shipping milling around in Gili Gili.
Mid Coral Sea – US Heavy Cruiser Chicago – Early afternoon
Dan scanned the skies. The ship had just been bought to general quarters to receive air attack. Apparently Jap floatplanes, and more ominously, a Jap carrier based bomber had been sighted. The men of his crew waited for targets but the morning stretched out with little to worry about.
He was about to get on the horn to order some sandwiches when the unmistakable bark of AAA could be heard across the water. Dan waited for something to shoot at and the firing did continue for about 4 minutes but then the firing slackened off.
“Well what the hell was that?” he commented to a crewmate.
His partner had no idea, but again as is always the case on a ship the story filtered down that the other side of the task force had been attacked by floatplanes. No hits were recorded but a few Jap flyers were not going to be drinking Saki tonight. Suddenly the ship changed course and headed almost due west. The weather came in and the ships were soon steaming through the more typical tropical fare of heavy rain.
Noumea – early Afternoon
Wob and his team were standing over the situation table. Things were coming together now. From what he could tell Spruance had just finished of a couple of light cruisers and some destroyers. More ominously was Jap carriers reported by seagulls off the cruisers in the Coral Sea! How Wilkinson had managed to sidestep destruction was beyond Wob but his new orders were for them to make best speed back to Townsville. Knowing where some of the enemy carriers were meant Wob had ordered Spruance to push north towards Nevea to see if he couldn’t add to the disruption he must be casing Jap high command.
The obvious conclusion had to be made though: transport shipping stockpiling in Gili, tankers sighted there too; now carriers and a heavy surface force; Australia was about to feel the wrath of the Jap armada – but where would they strike?
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rogueusmc
- Posts: 4583
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RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
[font="Times New Roman"]HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WOBBLY!!!!!.......[/font]have a good time and see ya on the flip side!
There are only two kinds of people that understand Marines: Marines and the enemy. Everyone else has a second-hand opinion.
Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army
Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army
RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
Happy birthday oldtimer [:D]
Hm, a weekend without UV...can that be a good way to celebrate?-)
Hm, a weekend without UV...can that be a good way to celebrate?-)
"The problem in defense is how far you can go without destroying from within what you are trying to defend from without"
- Dwight D. Eisenhower
RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WOBBLY
RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
hey i got promoted [:D]
im a vteran [:D]
and i never even played damn stubborn uv [:'(]
[:D][:D][:D][:D]
im a vteran [:D]
and i never even played damn stubborn uv [:'(]
[:D][:D][:D][:D]
RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
Thanks guys – don’t you just love getting older! I spent a great weekend in Christchurch in beautiful autumn weather.
July 23rd 1942
10 Miles South of Nevea, Afternoon
Adams looked to the left and noted his wingman Tom Johnson was in position with another two planes a further 200 yards to the right in a loose fighting four formation. Below and to the left was Jimmy Thatch’s F3 and still more aircraft half a mile or so in front of their formation. High above them, at about 22,000 feet were the Dauntlesses of the bombing contingent. They had tried to get away earlier to attack transport shipping that had been sighted at Nevea but weather had been foul over the islands. Ominously the weather plane had been attacked by zeros, only its superior height had allowed the SBD to escape. This information had meant that a very large escort force of 77 fighters now escorted the 70 dauntlesses. All of the pilots had been excited this morning, their confrontation with the Jap ships the day before justifying their jubilant mood; they wanted to test their mettle against the much vaunted Jap fighter. Now the islands were clear of cloud and the large attack force was nearing their destination.
Radio chatter suddenly broke through Adam’s reverie:
“Zeroes, Zeros 5000 feet below, form up guys, on me; lets get ‘em”
The call was from another carrier’s squadron but all the planes in Adam’s flight had heard and pilot’s heads began swiveling to find the elusive prey.
The radio was going nuts with combat talk, pilots calling for help, the unmistakable staccato of .50 calibre machine guns; but around Adams all was tranquility, not an enemy plane in sight. The loose formation navigated around a cloud bank and there, in stark relief, was the main island of Nevea and at it’s foot a formation of black shapes gave away the position of ships. In direct line of sight to the ships was a hairball of aircraft twisting and turning, the sparkle of gunfire visible.
“All right lads, lets get amongst them” Called Thatch
Adams opened the throttle to max and dove towards the hairball. Johnson called in that he was with him.
Suddenly a zero screamed past his nose at no more than 80 yards; Adams jinked in surprise his plane swallowing upwards. Another zero had been lining him up and the tracers disappeared under his aircraft. He pulled the Wildcat into a tight high G turn trying to catch up with the zeroes but they were long gone. Unfortunately his maneuver had also surprised his wingman and he was suddenly alone. His head swiveling about like a praying mantis Adams pulled his plane back towards the island and climbed a little; altitude was golden. How could the sky be so empty when he knew there was 140 American planes and god knows how many Japs in close proximity?
There!
Below a wildcat was chasing a zero that was diving away towards a low altitude cloud; behind the F4F a zero was moving itself into position to hit the chasing wildcat. Adams dove the fighter after the trailing zero. His extra height being converted into speed meant he was catching up. He contemplated trying to warn the wildcat pilot but there was so much radio chatter he was unlikely to be recognized and besides from this angle he couldn’t tell whose aircraft it was. The front zero seemed to be easily out-maneuvering the hunting F4F, it’s pilot throwing the nimble little craft into tight turns as the Wildcat got into shooting position.
The rear zero fired for the first time and its aim was good, the hunter had become the hunted and instantly Adams could tell the wounds were fatal. The F3 erupted in smoke and its propeller stopped cold, most likely with a smashed engine. The pilot wasn’t dead however and he tried to bank his plane away. The zero followed easily giving him another burst, again finding his mark. Adams was still out of range but he needed to distract the zero; he fired his weapons for the first time in anger: not enough lead, his target didn’t even know he was being stalked and fired another hail of bullets of its own. The damaged F4F abruptly detonated in a large fireball of exploding petrol surely killing the pilot who hadn’t managed to bail out. Adams fired again, this time much closer to the triumphant zero, which instantly roll-turned to starboard impossibly tightly. Adams was caught off guard by the zero’s nimbleness and was slow to try and follow the Jap fighter. He pulled his plane into a tight turn but the zero had disappeared. He rolled out of the turn and again looked to gain height frantically searching for the enemy plane. There it was turning behind and slightly above him. Adams pointed the nose of his fighter towards the water and pushed the engine through the gate to emergency power. The twin wasp bellowed its disgust at such abuse but also leapt away helping gravity to spin the speed indicator up towards 400 knots.
Adams looked behind and noted with pitiful relief that the zero hadn’t been able to keep up. He continued to dive through a small cloud before pulling the nose up and reducing power. Away to his left large gouts of water suddenly leapt up around the task force he had sighted earlier: the dauntlesses had made it to their targets and were now raining high explosive on the tightly turning ships; one’s luck ran out and a large mushroom cloud of smoke and flame leapt up from a hit. The Japs weren’t defenseless though: A zero had found the bombers and it was chasing one of the dauntlesses that had already bombed. Adams lined himself up to dive on the chasing zero but paused first to check his six. Thank god! A zero was slicing towards him. He hit the rudder pedal hard and yawed the fighter, then added aileron to the resulting slow nose-down roll. Tracer flashed by his wing, then a couple of bullets found the tip juddering the stick in his hands. He pulled the plane back around and tried to snapshot at the zero as it flashed past continuing with its dive; the shells missed by a country mile. Suddenly another plane streaked past; an F4F this time, hot on the tail of the zero that had just attacked him.
Things were happening way too fast.
Adams checked his six again: clear, then dove after the two combatant aircraft. They were down on the deck now, racing across the water, the leading zero trailing smoke. The chasing F4F fired again and appeared to miss but then the zero just flopped into the water, bouncing once before disintegrating. The victorious F4F started to climb to gain altitude and Adams hailed him over the radio.
“Thanks bud you saved my bacon”
The pilot’s head quickly rotated around the sky before finding Adams: it was obvious he hadn’t known he was being followed.
“Hey man, did you see that? I bagged my first Jap!” He was from the Wasp and was flying the new F4F-F4s.
“Yeah, he took a shot at me on the way down.”
“Well he ain’t gonna do that again” the pilot crowed excitedly.
“Guess not.” Answered Adams, he was suddenly shaking and had an awful feeling he was going to vomit.
Up ahead 3 dauntlesses were flying at about 3000 feet, slightly below them. Adams and his new friend joined up on the bombers and escorted them back in the direction of the Carriers.
Noumea, late afternoon
Wob read over the incoming combat report. It appeared the carriers had hit some Jap ships but had paid heavily in the process. Spruance wanted to force the attack sending more fighters into the fray, but Wob had followed Mitsher’s advice and created a bombardment force of the Carrier's escorts. This force would hit the Nevea airbase while the carriers retired. It appeared that the Japs were not feinting towards Australia and Wob knew he would need the carriers over there soon enough, better to get them back to Noumea and replace losses before doing so.
In Australia itself he noted that the 41st and the 32nd divisions had almost made it to Brisbane. This force should make the important city nigh-on impossible to capture. Therefore Wob ordered a regiment of the Northern command and 2 regiments of the 7th Australian up to Rockhampton. All he could do now was wait to see where the Japs hit.
July 23rd 1942
10 Miles South of Nevea, Afternoon
Adams looked to the left and noted his wingman Tom Johnson was in position with another two planes a further 200 yards to the right in a loose fighting four formation. Below and to the left was Jimmy Thatch’s F3 and still more aircraft half a mile or so in front of their formation. High above them, at about 22,000 feet were the Dauntlesses of the bombing contingent. They had tried to get away earlier to attack transport shipping that had been sighted at Nevea but weather had been foul over the islands. Ominously the weather plane had been attacked by zeros, only its superior height had allowed the SBD to escape. This information had meant that a very large escort force of 77 fighters now escorted the 70 dauntlesses. All of the pilots had been excited this morning, their confrontation with the Jap ships the day before justifying their jubilant mood; they wanted to test their mettle against the much vaunted Jap fighter. Now the islands were clear of cloud and the large attack force was nearing their destination.
Radio chatter suddenly broke through Adam’s reverie:
“Zeroes, Zeros 5000 feet below, form up guys, on me; lets get ‘em”
The call was from another carrier’s squadron but all the planes in Adam’s flight had heard and pilot’s heads began swiveling to find the elusive prey.
The radio was going nuts with combat talk, pilots calling for help, the unmistakable staccato of .50 calibre machine guns; but around Adams all was tranquility, not an enemy plane in sight. The loose formation navigated around a cloud bank and there, in stark relief, was the main island of Nevea and at it’s foot a formation of black shapes gave away the position of ships. In direct line of sight to the ships was a hairball of aircraft twisting and turning, the sparkle of gunfire visible.
“All right lads, lets get amongst them” Called Thatch
Adams opened the throttle to max and dove towards the hairball. Johnson called in that he was with him.
Suddenly a zero screamed past his nose at no more than 80 yards; Adams jinked in surprise his plane swallowing upwards. Another zero had been lining him up and the tracers disappeared under his aircraft. He pulled the Wildcat into a tight high G turn trying to catch up with the zeroes but they were long gone. Unfortunately his maneuver had also surprised his wingman and he was suddenly alone. His head swiveling about like a praying mantis Adams pulled his plane back towards the island and climbed a little; altitude was golden. How could the sky be so empty when he knew there was 140 American planes and god knows how many Japs in close proximity?
There!
Below a wildcat was chasing a zero that was diving away towards a low altitude cloud; behind the F4F a zero was moving itself into position to hit the chasing wildcat. Adams dove the fighter after the trailing zero. His extra height being converted into speed meant he was catching up. He contemplated trying to warn the wildcat pilot but there was so much radio chatter he was unlikely to be recognized and besides from this angle he couldn’t tell whose aircraft it was. The front zero seemed to be easily out-maneuvering the hunting F4F, it’s pilot throwing the nimble little craft into tight turns as the Wildcat got into shooting position.
The rear zero fired for the first time and its aim was good, the hunter had become the hunted and instantly Adams could tell the wounds were fatal. The F3 erupted in smoke and its propeller stopped cold, most likely with a smashed engine. The pilot wasn’t dead however and he tried to bank his plane away. The zero followed easily giving him another burst, again finding his mark. Adams was still out of range but he needed to distract the zero; he fired his weapons for the first time in anger: not enough lead, his target didn’t even know he was being stalked and fired another hail of bullets of its own. The damaged F4F abruptly detonated in a large fireball of exploding petrol surely killing the pilot who hadn’t managed to bail out. Adams fired again, this time much closer to the triumphant zero, which instantly roll-turned to starboard impossibly tightly. Adams was caught off guard by the zero’s nimbleness and was slow to try and follow the Jap fighter. He pulled his plane into a tight turn but the zero had disappeared. He rolled out of the turn and again looked to gain height frantically searching for the enemy plane. There it was turning behind and slightly above him. Adams pointed the nose of his fighter towards the water and pushed the engine through the gate to emergency power. The twin wasp bellowed its disgust at such abuse but also leapt away helping gravity to spin the speed indicator up towards 400 knots.
Adams looked behind and noted with pitiful relief that the zero hadn’t been able to keep up. He continued to dive through a small cloud before pulling the nose up and reducing power. Away to his left large gouts of water suddenly leapt up around the task force he had sighted earlier: the dauntlesses had made it to their targets and were now raining high explosive on the tightly turning ships; one’s luck ran out and a large mushroom cloud of smoke and flame leapt up from a hit. The Japs weren’t defenseless though: A zero had found the bombers and it was chasing one of the dauntlesses that had already bombed. Adams lined himself up to dive on the chasing zero but paused first to check his six. Thank god! A zero was slicing towards him. He hit the rudder pedal hard and yawed the fighter, then added aileron to the resulting slow nose-down roll. Tracer flashed by his wing, then a couple of bullets found the tip juddering the stick in his hands. He pulled the plane back around and tried to snapshot at the zero as it flashed past continuing with its dive; the shells missed by a country mile. Suddenly another plane streaked past; an F4F this time, hot on the tail of the zero that had just attacked him.
Things were happening way too fast.
Adams checked his six again: clear, then dove after the two combatant aircraft. They were down on the deck now, racing across the water, the leading zero trailing smoke. The chasing F4F fired again and appeared to miss but then the zero just flopped into the water, bouncing once before disintegrating. The victorious F4F started to climb to gain altitude and Adams hailed him over the radio.
“Thanks bud you saved my bacon”
The pilot’s head quickly rotated around the sky before finding Adams: it was obvious he hadn’t known he was being followed.
“Hey man, did you see that? I bagged my first Jap!” He was from the Wasp and was flying the new F4F-F4s.
“Yeah, he took a shot at me on the way down.”
“Well he ain’t gonna do that again” the pilot crowed excitedly.
“Guess not.” Answered Adams, he was suddenly shaking and had an awful feeling he was going to vomit.
Up ahead 3 dauntlesses were flying at about 3000 feet, slightly below them. Adams and his new friend joined up on the bombers and escorted them back in the direction of the Carriers.
Noumea, late afternoon
Wob read over the incoming combat report. It appeared the carriers had hit some Jap ships but had paid heavily in the process. Spruance wanted to force the attack sending more fighters into the fray, but Wob had followed Mitsher’s advice and created a bombardment force of the Carrier's escorts. This force would hit the Nevea airbase while the carriers retired. It appeared that the Japs were not feinting towards Australia and Wob knew he would need the carriers over there soon enough, better to get them back to Noumea and replace losses before doing so.
In Australia itself he noted that the 41st and the 32nd divisions had almost made it to Brisbane. This force should make the important city nigh-on impossible to capture. Therefore Wob ordered a regiment of the Northern command and 2 regiments of the 7th Australian up to Rockhampton. All he could do now was wait to see where the Japs hit.
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Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
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RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
Little slow on the uptake, but happy birthday, old man [;)]
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
RE: Can it Be? Herbie and Wobbly ride again?
July 27 1942
Noumea
Wob stared at the reports and wondered how it all went so horribly wrong. The plan had been for the 3 air combat TFs to get into range of the Japs and send in a thunderous attack that would get rid of a high proportion of the Jap flat tops and allow the allies to start on the road back to Japan. That was not how it had come to pass. Despite sending in over 200 dauntless dive bombers with fighter escort it was becoming obvious that the much vaunted zero had just undone his fighter pilots and had free reign against the bombers. The harried bombers tried to talk up hits on the enemy flat tops but intelligence did not appear to back up their stories, needless to say the Japs had not felt the need to retreat after the battle, they had stayed on hoping to add to their tally.
And what a tally that was! Both Yorktown and Enterprise lost, the Yorktown with the loss of 1,245 men so far accounted for. The air groups had similarly been savaged. Staying to try for a better day had been out of the question although that was what Spruance had argued for. Wob, with a sinking heart, had ordered a retreat back to Noumea; why throw good ships after bad when he could not rely on his fighter jocks to keep the bombers off his carriers?
The retreating ships had made it to Noumea and incredibly it had only been the two carriers lost, other ships had been damaged: a destroyer taking a bomb through the smoke stack and the light cruiser Achilles losing a turret. The target for the Jap bombers made obviously clear.
So what to do now? Efate’s position had become terribly tenuous, its fate taken out of his hands. This time though Wob wanted to use the island as an airstrip to hit the approaching hoards, he still had plenty of surface warships and lightning raids would sap any invasion while the four remaining fleet carriers were not to be dismissed.
The allied navies had been measured and found wanting again, how was he going to explain this to the powers that be?
A point just south of Luganville
Adams tried to move the wrist to a more comfortable position but the movement of the raft wasn’t allowing him to keep the injury still. He looked at it again, all the muscle down to the bone had been ripped away and the bone had been snapped just below the wrist so the limb flopped uselessly. Every meager movement would send lances of pain up his arm. Amazingly the gapping hole did not bleed much, just oozed, he had torn the muscle and skin open but it did not appear to have severed any arteries.
His mind began to wander again, this had been the way for the last night and day, and dehydration was making him loose control. The flight of fighters had approached the Jap carriers after getting good intelligence of their location. They had been at 12,000 feet when suddenly Jap fighters were everywhere. Joe had time to look up as one zero attacked a flight slightly above him before his plane was disintegrating around him. It winged over and began plummeting towards the waves. It still struck him that the only thing he was worried about was sharks. He had managed to get the hood back easily enough and so had tried for the raft under the seat. It also had come away easily, but on leaving the cockpit one of the guides on the side of the raft had caught on the open cockpit. The other guide had been around Adams’ wrist and that was how he broke it. The restraint had tried to hold his body to the plane before the vicious winds had broken the strap. Now that same raft was his lifeline, or maybe it was a deathtrap. How long could a man last without water he wondered?
Noumea
Wob stared at the reports and wondered how it all went so horribly wrong. The plan had been for the 3 air combat TFs to get into range of the Japs and send in a thunderous attack that would get rid of a high proportion of the Jap flat tops and allow the allies to start on the road back to Japan. That was not how it had come to pass. Despite sending in over 200 dauntless dive bombers with fighter escort it was becoming obvious that the much vaunted zero had just undone his fighter pilots and had free reign against the bombers. The harried bombers tried to talk up hits on the enemy flat tops but intelligence did not appear to back up their stories, needless to say the Japs had not felt the need to retreat after the battle, they had stayed on hoping to add to their tally.
And what a tally that was! Both Yorktown and Enterprise lost, the Yorktown with the loss of 1,245 men so far accounted for. The air groups had similarly been savaged. Staying to try for a better day had been out of the question although that was what Spruance had argued for. Wob, with a sinking heart, had ordered a retreat back to Noumea; why throw good ships after bad when he could not rely on his fighter jocks to keep the bombers off his carriers?
The retreating ships had made it to Noumea and incredibly it had only been the two carriers lost, other ships had been damaged: a destroyer taking a bomb through the smoke stack and the light cruiser Achilles losing a turret. The target for the Jap bombers made obviously clear.
So what to do now? Efate’s position had become terribly tenuous, its fate taken out of his hands. This time though Wob wanted to use the island as an airstrip to hit the approaching hoards, he still had plenty of surface warships and lightning raids would sap any invasion while the four remaining fleet carriers were not to be dismissed.
The allied navies had been measured and found wanting again, how was he going to explain this to the powers that be?
A point just south of Luganville
Adams tried to move the wrist to a more comfortable position but the movement of the raft wasn’t allowing him to keep the injury still. He looked at it again, all the muscle down to the bone had been ripped away and the bone had been snapped just below the wrist so the limb flopped uselessly. Every meager movement would send lances of pain up his arm. Amazingly the gapping hole did not bleed much, just oozed, he had torn the muscle and skin open but it did not appear to have severed any arteries.
His mind began to wander again, this had been the way for the last night and day, and dehydration was making him loose control. The flight of fighters had approached the Jap carriers after getting good intelligence of their location. They had been at 12,000 feet when suddenly Jap fighters were everywhere. Joe had time to look up as one zero attacked a flight slightly above him before his plane was disintegrating around him. It winged over and began plummeting towards the waves. It still struck him that the only thing he was worried about was sharks. He had managed to get the hood back easily enough and so had tried for the raft under the seat. It also had come away easily, but on leaving the cockpit one of the guides on the side of the raft had caught on the open cockpit. The other guide had been around Adams’ wrist and that was how he broke it. The restraint had tried to hold his body to the plane before the vicious winds had broken the strap. Now that same raft was his lifeline, or maybe it was a deathtrap. How long could a man last without water he wondered?
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Operation 'underarm'
Wob studied his chronicler with mild amusement; he looked like hell. He had recently been promoted and had also made ‘the mistake’ (he muttered now) of proposing to his girl – ‘what a circus’. A bit of time off had meant that his decisions and thoughts had not been put down for future (and current) readers to peruse.
So, where were they? Ah yes. Wob had managed to retain command after the debacle of the battle off luganville, but plans had been severely crimped with the loss of two fleet carriers. In the interim he had been trying to coordinate the movements of Lee and Ainsworth as they sprinted to Efate, the likely target for Japanese heavy bombardment groups, and then sprinted back to the cover of Noumea for the day. Mitscher, in charge of the 3 carriers: Lexington, Wasp and Saratoga had been stooging around the islands south of Efate hoping to pick off any cripples a bombardment task force would shed after a major surface battle. The trouble had been that the Japs would not play ball: each time the bombardment force had been scouted it had returned the way it had come. Wob was of the opinion his opposite number had become fixated with Efate and had sent the cruiser squadrons despite sometimes not having the benefit of scouting an actual enemy. The next plan was to start bombing Luganville from Sfate to keep the Japanese interest. He also had to caution himself of falling into the same trap. An attack on Australia now would not only catch him by surprise but could seriously jeopardise operation ‘Underarm’: the liberation of Cairns, which was slated to start in about an hour (he thought checking his watch). This was sure to provoke a response, but hopefully would be well advanced before the Japs had an possibility of opposing it.
USS Chicago – 30 Miles West of Cairns
Dan looked out over their charges, the slow speed of the troop ships made him chafe. He knew the ship was better off at speed and the Cruiser had trouble doing that without sailing in circles. No submarines had been reported in the immediate vicinity but that would surely change once the Japs found they were going to loose some real estate. Everyone expected air attack; it was likely the base at Port Moresby would be filled with level bombers and the only viable target was the one he made a part of. Kittyhawks from Townsville had been their companion the day before, that would surely continue, but the weight of anti-naval aircraft the Japs could bring to bear meant that the fighters could get swamped and hence the surface ships would have their work cut out for them.
“Alright guys, heads up, we are sure to get some trade today”
Charter Towers Airfield
Bessie Lou bellowed as she hauled herself into the air. They were carrying a full bombload on another milkrun to the coastal defence unit intelligence told them was holding the beaches on Cairns. They had flown this mission half a dozen times now and Sorenson was bored with it. There wasn’t much for a waist gunner to do if the enemy never showed up. The big B-17 continued on its way unabated, dropping a full load on the beaches and immediate hinterland around Cairns, in this she was joined by medium bombers and other B-17s from Charter towers. Bessie Lou banked out towards the ocean and Sorenson had to do a double take. There were easily 40 ships heading in to Cairns, an invasion appeared underway!
So, where were they? Ah yes. Wob had managed to retain command after the debacle of the battle off luganville, but plans had been severely crimped with the loss of two fleet carriers. In the interim he had been trying to coordinate the movements of Lee and Ainsworth as they sprinted to Efate, the likely target for Japanese heavy bombardment groups, and then sprinted back to the cover of Noumea for the day. Mitscher, in charge of the 3 carriers: Lexington, Wasp and Saratoga had been stooging around the islands south of Efate hoping to pick off any cripples a bombardment task force would shed after a major surface battle. The trouble had been that the Japs would not play ball: each time the bombardment force had been scouted it had returned the way it had come. Wob was of the opinion his opposite number had become fixated with Efate and had sent the cruiser squadrons despite sometimes not having the benefit of scouting an actual enemy. The next plan was to start bombing Luganville from Sfate to keep the Japanese interest. He also had to caution himself of falling into the same trap. An attack on Australia now would not only catch him by surprise but could seriously jeopardise operation ‘Underarm’: the liberation of Cairns, which was slated to start in about an hour (he thought checking his watch). This was sure to provoke a response, but hopefully would be well advanced before the Japs had an possibility of opposing it.
USS Chicago – 30 Miles West of Cairns
Dan looked out over their charges, the slow speed of the troop ships made him chafe. He knew the ship was better off at speed and the Cruiser had trouble doing that without sailing in circles. No submarines had been reported in the immediate vicinity but that would surely change once the Japs found they were going to loose some real estate. Everyone expected air attack; it was likely the base at Port Moresby would be filled with level bombers and the only viable target was the one he made a part of. Kittyhawks from Townsville had been their companion the day before, that would surely continue, but the weight of anti-naval aircraft the Japs could bring to bear meant that the fighters could get swamped and hence the surface ships would have their work cut out for them.
“Alright guys, heads up, we are sure to get some trade today”
Charter Towers Airfield
Bessie Lou bellowed as she hauled herself into the air. They were carrying a full bombload on another milkrun to the coastal defence unit intelligence told them was holding the beaches on Cairns. They had flown this mission half a dozen times now and Sorenson was bored with it. There wasn’t much for a waist gunner to do if the enemy never showed up. The big B-17 continued on its way unabated, dropping a full load on the beaches and immediate hinterland around Cairns, in this she was joined by medium bombers and other B-17s from Charter towers. Bessie Lou banked out towards the ocean and Sorenson had to do a double take. There were easily 40 ships heading in to Cairns, an invasion appeared underway!
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everything in jeopardy
Noumea Allied Headquarters
Everyone was in a rush. Clerks ran backwards and forwards with important pieces of paper. In the corner a group of female typists hammered away at their machines while they kept an eye on pandemonium about them. Admiral Robert Lee marched into the room and then through it like a summer storm. It took all of the ladies professionalism to continue to type as if the look on his brow had not affected them.
Wob slammed the door behind him and marched to the head of the situations table.
“What the h3ll is the story in Australia?! How in heavens name can an armada of aircraft carriers and surface warships wander all the way down to the most important base we now have in Northern Ausrtralia, and while we have an invasion underway, WITHOUT US KNOWING?!”
The gold braid in the room took a visible lean away from the usually placid commander. A major thumbed through the still fresh damage report, he thanked god he was in the army and not with the navy pukes. He read a little further into the after action report as the Naval commanders tried to explain their lack of competence. It appeared an ASW task force had been caught with its pants down off Townsville and lost 3 destroyers, a patrol boat and 3 sub chasers with damage to a further destroyer and another sub chaser. The pitiful remanence had been ordered to Townsville but did not like their chances of making it.
“So gentlemen” growled Wob, “I am sick to death of all this fumbling about getting our arses handed to us; this is what we do”.
“The Cairns invasion should have enough supplies and men ashore to retake the city: they conduct a full attack tomorrow.”
“The transport ships that have not been damaged by a, still effectual (a thunderous look at the airforce that had been pounding this unit for days), coastal defence unit, will retreat inside the barrier towards Townsville”.
“All fighters and fighter-bombers are to fly CAP over the retreating transports, and their escort: Scott’s surface action force”.
“All medium bombers are going to hit the pesky coast defence unit again”.
“Meanwhile, over here, Mitscher is sortieing with the carriers Saratoga, Lexington and Wasp to attack the transports we can see at Nevea; they will be escorted by Lee’s force of cruisers and destroyers. If the bastards stay to kill our transports we’ll repay them in kind.”
“I don’t want anymore half arsed excuses – let’s get this rolling and make it work. Bring me good news for a change!”
Townsville Harbour – US submarine SS-47
Davis looked at the bow wave as his warship cleared the torpedo nets. She still was not up to scratch, she hadn’t had dive tests on her hull repairs and there had been no time to fix another issue with her diving planes, but here he was taking the old war horse out to sea.
He looked at the scrunched up alert note.
“So the Japs have bought their carriers down here for a little foray, well I’d love to get one of them in my sights”. And that after all was his mandate for this mission – with a broken chariot as well.
Everyone was in a rush. Clerks ran backwards and forwards with important pieces of paper. In the corner a group of female typists hammered away at their machines while they kept an eye on pandemonium about them. Admiral Robert Lee marched into the room and then through it like a summer storm. It took all of the ladies professionalism to continue to type as if the look on his brow had not affected them.
Wob slammed the door behind him and marched to the head of the situations table.
“What the h3ll is the story in Australia?! How in heavens name can an armada of aircraft carriers and surface warships wander all the way down to the most important base we now have in Northern Ausrtralia, and while we have an invasion underway, WITHOUT US KNOWING?!”
The gold braid in the room took a visible lean away from the usually placid commander. A major thumbed through the still fresh damage report, he thanked god he was in the army and not with the navy pukes. He read a little further into the after action report as the Naval commanders tried to explain their lack of competence. It appeared an ASW task force had been caught with its pants down off Townsville and lost 3 destroyers, a patrol boat and 3 sub chasers with damage to a further destroyer and another sub chaser. The pitiful remanence had been ordered to Townsville but did not like their chances of making it.
“So gentlemen” growled Wob, “I am sick to death of all this fumbling about getting our arses handed to us; this is what we do”.
“The Cairns invasion should have enough supplies and men ashore to retake the city: they conduct a full attack tomorrow.”
“The transport ships that have not been damaged by a, still effectual (a thunderous look at the airforce that had been pounding this unit for days), coastal defence unit, will retreat inside the barrier towards Townsville”.
“All fighters and fighter-bombers are to fly CAP over the retreating transports, and their escort: Scott’s surface action force”.
“All medium bombers are going to hit the pesky coast defence unit again”.
“Meanwhile, over here, Mitscher is sortieing with the carriers Saratoga, Lexington and Wasp to attack the transports we can see at Nevea; they will be escorted by Lee’s force of cruisers and destroyers. If the bastards stay to kill our transports we’ll repay them in kind.”
“I don’t want anymore half arsed excuses – let’s get this rolling and make it work. Bring me good news for a change!”
Townsville Harbour – US submarine SS-47
Davis looked at the bow wave as his warship cleared the torpedo nets. She still was not up to scratch, she hadn’t had dive tests on her hull repairs and there had been no time to fix another issue with her diving planes, but here he was taking the old war horse out to sea.
He looked at the scrunched up alert note.
“So the Japs have bought their carriers down here for a little foray, well I’d love to get one of them in my sights”. And that after all was his mandate for this mission – with a broken chariot as well.
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Boy-o-boy is she getting tense!
Just north of Cairns 7:45 in the morning
Sorenson could hardly keep his eyes open. The steady blast of slowly warming air had lost the bite of altitude and its blanket of warmness had worked its way into his wool lined bomber jacket. He looked out the gun port at the hole in the wing and remembered the flak over their target. Large balls of angry red and the patter of shrapnel off the skin off Bessie Lou’s aluminium skin, Somehow, at night its ferocity was worse, more sinister, like angry red monsters that leapt into creation by magic, all in the attempt to snuff out his life and that of his crewmates.
Port Moresby was a far cry from the milk runs of Cairns, the flak had been so intense that he had thought there would be no chance of them ever penetrating it unharmed, and that, as it turned out, was prophetic. One of the lighter calibers (he surmised) had gone off under the wing blowing a large hole straight through it. How there had been no fire he was d@mned if he knew, but fuel had poured from the hole until the outer tank was empty and unfortunately that tank hadn’t been touched yet. The loss of fuel had forced them to divert, and now the familiar countryside around Cairns was taking shape; they were going to try and land on the airstrip that not a week ago they had been trying to destroy. Would it be repaired enough to accommodate them?
The large bomber crested the boundary fences and flew down the length of the runway at 1000ft; it was a mess, landing was going to be precarious at best. The pilot had a brief consultation with the crew and the best chance he could come up with was to take the plane to a safe jump height, let the crew hit the silk and then try and land the plane himself.
One by one each of the crew contemplated the jump and then leapt for their lives, Sorenson wriggled himself through the egress, getting caught halfway and being battered by the gale and then falling free, upside down, pulling the cord, a swift kick in the jewels and then an incredible silence. He looked out about Cairns to the South and noticed that his hitch up had meant he was going to come down in a stand of Eucalypt trees bordering a farmhouse. He hit the side of one of the large trees being deflected somewhat by the outer leaves, then the chute caught on the higher branches and savagely swung Paul on his side, the chute gave, caught, gave again and the let go dropping him the last 10 or so feet in a bone jarring thump that knocked him unconscious.
A warm wet splash bought him to his senses; an inquisitive cow had decided grass had nothing on the flavour of sweaty airman.
USS Chicago mid ocean between Townsville and Port Moresby
A low flying 2-engine bomber had scouted the task force. The enemy plane had recognized what it saw and stayed at a distance that meant it was well out of AAA range. Dan stared at the distant object and cursed it; everyone knew that the Japs had a fleet of Carriers off the coast of Townsville. He surmised their mission was to bombard Port Moresby to make the continued landings at Cairns safer from long-range air attack, plus take out any shipping they found at important port (apparently there were no enemy warships there). Now though, those Jap carriers were sure to move towards the coast of Oz to cut off their retreat and hammer them as they tried to return to the dubious safety of the air cover. The whole task force felt like sacrificial lambs, what the hell were they doing stuck out here prouder than a honeymooner’s dick??
Noumea, Naval Headquarters.
Wob surveyed the damage, the night before two large flights of long-range enemy bombers had flown over the port trying to cull the shipping based there. Most bombs had landed in the water of the port (it appeared their bomb aimers were as blind as his own) but the Hornet had taken a bomb to the central aircraft elevator. If it had gone off there could have been some serious damage, as it was it had punched a hole through wooden structure and through the deck below into a paint locker and sat there. Bomb disposal had apparently already defused it and were in the process of removing it to be destroyed. Another strike had hit the aircraft tender Thornton and this had caused far more damage, lighting fires and smashing the main workshop; she would be on her way back to Pearl.
Despite his eye wandering over the scene of industry his mind was elsewhere. He was playing a very dangerous game with his most valuable assets. Herbie-san (the name of his nemesis intelligence now informed him) had shown his hand in a daring naval air attack on his anti-sub TF but had since left the perpetrators in mid ocean – Coral Sea. Wob had responded by moving his carriers well out of land based aid to threaten enemy shipping, they were currently 90 miles south east of Nevea. Lee with his surface units had flown into Luganvile looking for trade and then retreated further north. Wob planned to let Lee run amok at Nevea tonight, bombard the airfield and then let Mitscher’s Carriers launch strikes against the transports that were still in the vicinity.
Back in the East Scott’s Oz force were precariously placed, mid-ocean, lining themselves up against Port Moresby. Apparently they had been spotted and this might be the goad required to force Herbie-san to move his carriers back East, if so Wob would let Mitsher loose. If the carriers came West Wob hoped he had left enough sea room to run from the more powerful force. The decision made in the East, it was now, what to do with Scott, he was in a mighty insecure position…
USS Chicago, 8:45 PM Mid-ocean between Port Moresby and Townsville
The large cruiser heeled over in an about face maneuver, the task force was heading back to the safety of the mainland. They were to rendezvous with the remains of the Cairns invasion force. However, three destroyers did not follow the rest of their larger sisters, they were going to try a high speed run into Port Moresby and hope to find a juicy and easy-to-cull target, then make it home without meeting the carriers….
Sorenson could hardly keep his eyes open. The steady blast of slowly warming air had lost the bite of altitude and its blanket of warmness had worked its way into his wool lined bomber jacket. He looked out the gun port at the hole in the wing and remembered the flak over their target. Large balls of angry red and the patter of shrapnel off the skin off Bessie Lou’s aluminium skin, Somehow, at night its ferocity was worse, more sinister, like angry red monsters that leapt into creation by magic, all in the attempt to snuff out his life and that of his crewmates.
Port Moresby was a far cry from the milk runs of Cairns, the flak had been so intense that he had thought there would be no chance of them ever penetrating it unharmed, and that, as it turned out, was prophetic. One of the lighter calibers (he surmised) had gone off under the wing blowing a large hole straight through it. How there had been no fire he was d@mned if he knew, but fuel had poured from the hole until the outer tank was empty and unfortunately that tank hadn’t been touched yet. The loss of fuel had forced them to divert, and now the familiar countryside around Cairns was taking shape; they were going to try and land on the airstrip that not a week ago they had been trying to destroy. Would it be repaired enough to accommodate them?
The large bomber crested the boundary fences and flew down the length of the runway at 1000ft; it was a mess, landing was going to be precarious at best. The pilot had a brief consultation with the crew and the best chance he could come up with was to take the plane to a safe jump height, let the crew hit the silk and then try and land the plane himself.
One by one each of the crew contemplated the jump and then leapt for their lives, Sorenson wriggled himself through the egress, getting caught halfway and being battered by the gale and then falling free, upside down, pulling the cord, a swift kick in the jewels and then an incredible silence. He looked out about Cairns to the South and noticed that his hitch up had meant he was going to come down in a stand of Eucalypt trees bordering a farmhouse. He hit the side of one of the large trees being deflected somewhat by the outer leaves, then the chute caught on the higher branches and savagely swung Paul on his side, the chute gave, caught, gave again and the let go dropping him the last 10 or so feet in a bone jarring thump that knocked him unconscious.
A warm wet splash bought him to his senses; an inquisitive cow had decided grass had nothing on the flavour of sweaty airman.
USS Chicago mid ocean between Townsville and Port Moresby
A low flying 2-engine bomber had scouted the task force. The enemy plane had recognized what it saw and stayed at a distance that meant it was well out of AAA range. Dan stared at the distant object and cursed it; everyone knew that the Japs had a fleet of Carriers off the coast of Townsville. He surmised their mission was to bombard Port Moresby to make the continued landings at Cairns safer from long-range air attack, plus take out any shipping they found at important port (apparently there were no enemy warships there). Now though, those Jap carriers were sure to move towards the coast of Oz to cut off their retreat and hammer them as they tried to return to the dubious safety of the air cover. The whole task force felt like sacrificial lambs, what the hell were they doing stuck out here prouder than a honeymooner’s dick??
Noumea, Naval Headquarters.
Wob surveyed the damage, the night before two large flights of long-range enemy bombers had flown over the port trying to cull the shipping based there. Most bombs had landed in the water of the port (it appeared their bomb aimers were as blind as his own) but the Hornet had taken a bomb to the central aircraft elevator. If it had gone off there could have been some serious damage, as it was it had punched a hole through wooden structure and through the deck below into a paint locker and sat there. Bomb disposal had apparently already defused it and were in the process of removing it to be destroyed. Another strike had hit the aircraft tender Thornton and this had caused far more damage, lighting fires and smashing the main workshop; she would be on her way back to Pearl.
Despite his eye wandering over the scene of industry his mind was elsewhere. He was playing a very dangerous game with his most valuable assets. Herbie-san (the name of his nemesis intelligence now informed him) had shown his hand in a daring naval air attack on his anti-sub TF but had since left the perpetrators in mid ocean – Coral Sea. Wob had responded by moving his carriers well out of land based aid to threaten enemy shipping, they were currently 90 miles south east of Nevea. Lee with his surface units had flown into Luganvile looking for trade and then retreated further north. Wob planned to let Lee run amok at Nevea tonight, bombard the airfield and then let Mitscher’s Carriers launch strikes against the transports that were still in the vicinity.
Back in the East Scott’s Oz force were precariously placed, mid-ocean, lining themselves up against Port Moresby. Apparently they had been spotted and this might be the goad required to force Herbie-san to move his carriers back East, if so Wob would let Mitsher loose. If the carriers came West Wob hoped he had left enough sea room to run from the more powerful force. The decision made in the East, it was now, what to do with Scott, he was in a mighty insecure position…
USS Chicago, 8:45 PM Mid-ocean between Port Moresby and Townsville
The large cruiser heeled over in an about face maneuver, the task force was heading back to the safety of the mainland. They were to rendezvous with the remains of the Cairns invasion force. However, three destroyers did not follow the rest of their larger sisters, they were going to try a high speed run into Port Moresby and hope to find a juicy and easy-to-cull target, then make it home without meeting the carriers….
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Mitscher at last attacks the BBs at Nevea!
USS Chicago Townsville Harbour 9:30 in the morning
Dan watched the sky with about as much interest as he could muster. They had all been on edge for so long now that the adrenaline had worn off and been replaced by bone weariness. The night before, without any Destroyer screen, the Chicago had raced up to Cooktown, where it was supposed some Destroyers that were scouted the day before, would be heading. However there had been nothing there and the Chicago had returned unblooded and undamaged. She was docking at one of the warships piers when the news came in.
“Dan, Dan, the Japs are attacking the taskforce with their carrier planes”.
The invasion force remnants and their surface group cover, that Chicago had recently been a part of, had been found and attacked.
“Well at least it isn’t us,” he said before he could think, suddenly ashamed at the relief he felt.
Noumea, Naval Headquarters late afternoon
Wob shook his head; at last Mitscher had summoned the courage to attack the forces at Nevea. It appeared the flyboys had managed to hit a couple of the enemy Battleships that had molested Efate a fortnight ago. They had returned in the afternoon and by the skimpy accounts he had been given the Japs had smoke screened the heavies and the naval bombers had attacked a transport convoy instead.
Wob looked at his maps (attached), so Mitscher would retire to the East and rest his aircrews. Wob knew exactly where the enemy CVs were so there should be little likelihood of attack, and if they did Mitsher would at least have parity. Lee, reinforced with another Heavy Cruiser a Light Cruiser and half a dozen Destroyers was again going to get ready to bombard Nevea. The battleships were still there but would be struggling with damage they had incurred today.
In Oz, he had decided to leave the men that hadn’t loaded on the beach where they were and get the transports away from the enemy carriers. Despite damage from todays air attacks only the Australia and the New Orleans needed to be repaired. The rest of the ships would rendezvous at Townsville and pick up the solitary Chicago. Wobs ploy to use the surface fleet as bait to keep the carriers away and to also knock down some of the vaunted Japanese naval flyers was working, although at a price.
Dan watched the sky with about as much interest as he could muster. They had all been on edge for so long now that the adrenaline had worn off and been replaced by bone weariness. The night before, without any Destroyer screen, the Chicago had raced up to Cooktown, where it was supposed some Destroyers that were scouted the day before, would be heading. However there had been nothing there and the Chicago had returned unblooded and undamaged. She was docking at one of the warships piers when the news came in.
“Dan, Dan, the Japs are attacking the taskforce with their carrier planes”.
The invasion force remnants and their surface group cover, that Chicago had recently been a part of, had been found and attacked.
“Well at least it isn’t us,” he said before he could think, suddenly ashamed at the relief he felt.
Noumea, Naval Headquarters late afternoon
Wob shook his head; at last Mitscher had summoned the courage to attack the forces at Nevea. It appeared the flyboys had managed to hit a couple of the enemy Battleships that had molested Efate a fortnight ago. They had returned in the afternoon and by the skimpy accounts he had been given the Japs had smoke screened the heavies and the naval bombers had attacked a transport convoy instead.
Wob looked at his maps (attached), so Mitscher would retire to the East and rest his aircrews. Wob knew exactly where the enemy CVs were so there should be little likelihood of attack, and if they did Mitsher would at least have parity. Lee, reinforced with another Heavy Cruiser a Light Cruiser and half a dozen Destroyers was again going to get ready to bombard Nevea. The battleships were still there but would be struggling with damage they had incurred today.
In Oz, he had decided to leave the men that hadn’t loaded on the beach where they were and get the transports away from the enemy carriers. Despite damage from todays air attacks only the Australia and the New Orleans needed to be repaired. The rest of the ships would rendezvous at Townsville and pick up the solitary Chicago. Wobs ploy to use the surface fleet as bait to keep the carriers away and to also knock down some of the vaunted Japanese naval flyers was working, although at a price.
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And the situation in the East
The carriers retreat further east for a break when the weather turns foul
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the long absence
Well I had actually given up on this aar because I went back and read my attempt at fiction and it was the most complete bunch of arse I think I have ever read! This prompted me to loose heart and basically give away that long held dream to be a war corespondent or at least fiction writer, Mills and Boon are in touch though…
However, herb and others has given me a nudge so I think I will change the format, spare the reader the pain. I must admit I also thought the release of WitP would quench the desire for UV flavoured musings.
From now on I will write plans and such on the war as I see it progressing.
Anyway, the allied perspective can be filled in as follows:
When I left you Lee was about to assault Nevea with his cruiser force, I thought that attacking the BBs I knew to be there, while they were wounded, would be a plausible option (even if I only had CAs). Well Miseur’s Mutsu and Nagato proved that to be in error, Indianapolis being sunk with Lee riding the big grey whale down for company. In the end it took a few S boats to even the score, both Mutsu and Nagato wearing a couple of fish, although I have no indication on my scores herb has informed me that the Mutsu succumbed to her wounds.
From there I have reinforced Efate with the rest of the Americal Division and two air support-engineering units. Most of the eastern airforce is now based there and strikes of 120 assorted bombers, including about 50 B-17s, can make life in Luganville very uncomfortable.
In the west the abortive invasion of Cairns was eventually concluded with all intended troops making it into town. My surface units there did not enjoy the battles but so far nothing has been lost over there, a lot injured but nothing lost.
Callaghan, aboard the Chicago managed to pull off a near letter perfect raid on Woodlark sinking three APs and a PG, but one of the escort DDs hit a mine as they tried to make it for home: Townsville. I can report that the hapless DD has made it to safety and baring an attack mid-ocean as she tries to get back to Noumea she should live to fight another day.
The lay of the land is still pretty promising – this is from memory so bear with me – but I have lost about 550 planes to his 650. I have lost about 17 ships to his 68 but I am behind in points as two of my ships were the Enterprise and Yorktown. I have also lost 3 CAs, others that were wounded have all made it back to base and form there to Pearl. He ahs lost only the Suzaya and maybe the Mutsu but as many as 20 DDs, 20 APs, 6 SS, 5 MSWs and AV and sundry escort ships.
In 23 days I get 12 squadrons with 204 aircraft – mmmmm that will taste good !!
However, herb and others has given me a nudge so I think I will change the format, spare the reader the pain. I must admit I also thought the release of WitP would quench the desire for UV flavoured musings.
From now on I will write plans and such on the war as I see it progressing.
Anyway, the allied perspective can be filled in as follows:
When I left you Lee was about to assault Nevea with his cruiser force, I thought that attacking the BBs I knew to be there, while they were wounded, would be a plausible option (even if I only had CAs). Well Miseur’s Mutsu and Nagato proved that to be in error, Indianapolis being sunk with Lee riding the big grey whale down for company. In the end it took a few S boats to even the score, both Mutsu and Nagato wearing a couple of fish, although I have no indication on my scores herb has informed me that the Mutsu succumbed to her wounds.
From there I have reinforced Efate with the rest of the Americal Division and two air support-engineering units. Most of the eastern airforce is now based there and strikes of 120 assorted bombers, including about 50 B-17s, can make life in Luganville very uncomfortable.
In the west the abortive invasion of Cairns was eventually concluded with all intended troops making it into town. My surface units there did not enjoy the battles but so far nothing has been lost over there, a lot injured but nothing lost.
Callaghan, aboard the Chicago managed to pull off a near letter perfect raid on Woodlark sinking three APs and a PG, but one of the escort DDs hit a mine as they tried to make it for home: Townsville. I can report that the hapless DD has made it to safety and baring an attack mid-ocean as she tries to get back to Noumea she should live to fight another day.
The lay of the land is still pretty promising – this is from memory so bear with me – but I have lost about 550 planes to his 650. I have lost about 17 ships to his 68 but I am behind in points as two of my ships were the Enterprise and Yorktown. I have also lost 3 CAs, others that were wounded have all made it back to base and form there to Pearl. He ahs lost only the Suzaya and maybe the Mutsu but as many as 20 DDs, 20 APs, 6 SS, 5 MSWs and AV and sundry escort ships.
In 23 days I get 12 squadrons with 204 aircraft – mmmmm that will taste good !!
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Operation Octopussycat
I understand Herb has created the plan to end all plans - operation Octopus, he is taunting me with it now...
From the last time I wrote little has occured to make me think there is anything happening, maybe a little more activity around Lunga but nothing to suggest he is seriously on the move - can't be complacent if he is actually giving me a heads up though.
Observations:
Herb has been running some fast transport missions into Luganville - I don't know if this was to unload supplies or to pick up troops. I don't think it was to unload troops as I managed to intercept 3 APDs with 8 PTs. A very satisfying battle with an APD sunk and the two others straffed (both getting secondary explosions from .50 cal penetrating strikes - wohoo) for the loss of a single PT - 4.7" shells will do that to these little boats though. The point though, is that no troops were lost - so not dropping off me thinks.
I have been doing regular port and airfield strikes with my level bombes to make living conditions uncomfortable there and to keep the level of supplies down.
All of my subs, who have been recuperating in the barn, sortied yesterday and have taken up position around Luganville and Efate. I only have one operational CA in the East but the North Carolina and the Washington are 3 days out.
Over in Oz I have retaken the dot hex Innisfail with 40 sub landed troops. Herb has been reconning Cairns heavily and I now have a retreat hex if he attacks (of course he could just retake it from me - 40 men aren't going to hold forever).
In a rather audacious move Herb also reconned Rockhampton from Irau and located my carriers - they had enough of being bombed at night in Noumea and went to safer waters. I have attempted some subterfuge here, the carriers have all sortied and are located low down between Noumea and Brisbane, but I have moved the Long Island to Rockhampton. If he recons again he should still see a CV located in the port - it may cause him to think I am still in the barn - who knows.
Actions:
Well nothing to report here, I await herb's master plan. I have land units at all my major bases but only Brisbane and Noumea will be able to withstand a full, all out invasion. Townsville is heavily held - 2 divisions, and Cairns Rockhampton and Efate all have a division defending them. this should be enough to hold him long enough so that I can call in the reserves - we shall see.
Either way, with a name like Octopus you can forgive me for thinking he is spreading his 'arms' a little too wide. If he hasn't provided enough firepower in each location then he may come unstuck - here's hoping.
From the last time I wrote little has occured to make me think there is anything happening, maybe a little more activity around Lunga but nothing to suggest he is seriously on the move - can't be complacent if he is actually giving me a heads up though.
Observations:
Herb has been running some fast transport missions into Luganville - I don't know if this was to unload supplies or to pick up troops. I don't think it was to unload troops as I managed to intercept 3 APDs with 8 PTs. A very satisfying battle with an APD sunk and the two others straffed (both getting secondary explosions from .50 cal penetrating strikes - wohoo) for the loss of a single PT - 4.7" shells will do that to these little boats though. The point though, is that no troops were lost - so not dropping off me thinks.
I have been doing regular port and airfield strikes with my level bombes to make living conditions uncomfortable there and to keep the level of supplies down.
All of my subs, who have been recuperating in the barn, sortied yesterday and have taken up position around Luganville and Efate. I only have one operational CA in the East but the North Carolina and the Washington are 3 days out.
Over in Oz I have retaken the dot hex Innisfail with 40 sub landed troops. Herb has been reconning Cairns heavily and I now have a retreat hex if he attacks (of course he could just retake it from me - 40 men aren't going to hold forever).
In a rather audacious move Herb also reconned Rockhampton from Irau and located my carriers - they had enough of being bombed at night in Noumea and went to safer waters. I have attempted some subterfuge here, the carriers have all sortied and are located low down between Noumea and Brisbane, but I have moved the Long Island to Rockhampton. If he recons again he should still see a CV located in the port - it may cause him to think I am still in the barn - who knows.
Actions:
Well nothing to report here, I await herb's master plan. I have land units at all my major bases but only Brisbane and Noumea will be able to withstand a full, all out invasion. Townsville is heavily held - 2 divisions, and Cairns Rockhampton and Efate all have a division defending them. this should be enough to hold him long enough so that I can call in the reserves - we shall see.
Either way, with a name like Octopus you can forgive me for thinking he is spreading his 'arms' a little too wide. If he hasn't provided enough firepower in each location then he may come unstuck - here's hoping.
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RE: Operation Octopussycat
Two Carrier forces have been sited, one in the coral sea (just above the coral sea sign on the map) another East of Irau, mid way to Nevea. Herbie still has some forces milling around Nevea, so far that is all that has been scouted so the need for more intelligance is high on the agenda.
Herbie instigated a flurry of recon activity from PM Iran and Lunga to Noumea, Cairns, Townsville and Rockhampton. In doing so he will notice that my carrier forces are no longer at Rockhampton and that my oz force surface fleet is formed into a TF at Cairns.
So, where does that leave me?
Well neither side of the map has a greater weight of numbers than the other, I have split them reasonably evenly and this mainly to do with the name of Herbie's attack - octopus does sound like a blanket rather than focused attack, either way I'd have wanted some defence in key locations while I coordinated reinforcements.
In the East I have a few medium bomber sqds, 2 marine dauntless sqds, 2 P-39 sqds, 2 marine F4F -4 sqds and one navy F4F-3 sqd. There are also 4 Sqds of B-17s at Noumea. Efate will be the main location of fighting I would think and it has the whole of the Americal Division and two CD units to try and stave off invasions, Ainsworth, with his medium surface force (1 CA, 2 Cls and about 10 DDs) and Wilkinson's heavy surface TF ( 2 BBs, 1 CA, about 8 DDs) are poised south of Efate holding position. I am unsure yet whether I move these into Efate to negate bombardment missions or move them further from Efate for safety - this depends on the Carriers sighted by Nevea. Herbie may also try for Koumac, I have far less defence here, 1 armoured unit and the cavalry.
In Oz nothing has changed ground troops wise: the Oz 3rd at Cairns, 5 regiments at Townsville, 3 at Rockhampton and 4 at brisbane. Charter towers holds the heavy ACs - 2 sqds of B-17s and 1 of B-24s plus a multitude of B-25s and B-26s, Cairns has a single P-39 sqd on naval strike and a sqd of kittyhawks (now with quite good experience - avg 71). Townsville is loaded with fighter bombers, 1 sqd kittyhawks and 2 sqds of warhawks. Most of the Dakotas are here to for airborne reinforcement to the other Oz bases. Oz surface force is a depleted affair of 1 CA, 1 Cl and 4 DDs - they can't hope to be much more than a target so will try and harass, with the number of Carriers in the Coral sea in may be more prudent to run... so they are set to move back to townsville. the long island has moved from Rockhampton to sit between Noumea and brisbane to be a midway dock to move teh marine contingent to Oz if that appears to be his main point of effort. Spruance is about 12 hexes West of Noumea along with a replenishment TF of 4 oilers; I don't plan on utilising this force until his carriers have faced some land based attacks and have had to tire out the zeros a bit. He knows the Carriers are no longer in port, he doesn't know where they current reside but he should be able to guess reasonably accurately.
So it is a case of waiting - where is he moving to and how hard will he try to take the locations he is after?
Herbie instigated a flurry of recon activity from PM Iran and Lunga to Noumea, Cairns, Townsville and Rockhampton. In doing so he will notice that my carrier forces are no longer at Rockhampton and that my oz force surface fleet is formed into a TF at Cairns.
So, where does that leave me?
Well neither side of the map has a greater weight of numbers than the other, I have split them reasonably evenly and this mainly to do with the name of Herbie's attack - octopus does sound like a blanket rather than focused attack, either way I'd have wanted some defence in key locations while I coordinated reinforcements.
In the East I have a few medium bomber sqds, 2 marine dauntless sqds, 2 P-39 sqds, 2 marine F4F -4 sqds and one navy F4F-3 sqd. There are also 4 Sqds of B-17s at Noumea. Efate will be the main location of fighting I would think and it has the whole of the Americal Division and two CD units to try and stave off invasions, Ainsworth, with his medium surface force (1 CA, 2 Cls and about 10 DDs) and Wilkinson's heavy surface TF ( 2 BBs, 1 CA, about 8 DDs) are poised south of Efate holding position. I am unsure yet whether I move these into Efate to negate bombardment missions or move them further from Efate for safety - this depends on the Carriers sighted by Nevea. Herbie may also try for Koumac, I have far less defence here, 1 armoured unit and the cavalry.
In Oz nothing has changed ground troops wise: the Oz 3rd at Cairns, 5 regiments at Townsville, 3 at Rockhampton and 4 at brisbane. Charter towers holds the heavy ACs - 2 sqds of B-17s and 1 of B-24s plus a multitude of B-25s and B-26s, Cairns has a single P-39 sqd on naval strike and a sqd of kittyhawks (now with quite good experience - avg 71). Townsville is loaded with fighter bombers, 1 sqd kittyhawks and 2 sqds of warhawks. Most of the Dakotas are here to for airborne reinforcement to the other Oz bases. Oz surface force is a depleted affair of 1 CA, 1 Cl and 4 DDs - they can't hope to be much more than a target so will try and harass, with the number of Carriers in the Coral sea in may be more prudent to run... so they are set to move back to townsville. the long island has moved from Rockhampton to sit between Noumea and brisbane to be a midway dock to move teh marine contingent to Oz if that appears to be his main point of effort. Spruance is about 12 hexes West of Noumea along with a replenishment TF of 4 oilers; I don't plan on utilising this force until his carriers have faced some land based attacks and have had to tire out the zeros a bit. He knows the Carriers are no longer in port, he doesn't know where they current reside but he should be able to guess reasonably accurately.
So it is a case of waiting - where is he moving to and how hard will he try to take the locations he is after?
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Hurry up and wait
Well herbie's Carriers are sitting in the middle of the Coral sea while many surface warships are spotted in between Nevea and Luganville.
My knowledge of the carrier fleet appears to be increasing - he seems to have most of his flat tops in this group. If this is the case they are markedly more superior than the 3 CVs I have remaining. In which case I really need him to commit their aricraft, preferably at long range, against a well CAPed surface fleet with good AAA capability.
The perfect scenario would be for him to attack my BBs at range 8-10 so the kates cannot carry torpedoes, most of the hits should then be superficial while I will still be downing planes, added to this his aircraft will have to fly the long distance back to their carriers: room for more losses.
To orchestrate this I have to have a better idea of where he is aiming. At present this looks like an attack on Efate or a resupply of Luganville. I would imagine he will want to shutdown the airfield at Efate, which is the original target for my surface fleet; of course they can't be targets for carrier planes and defending Efate at the same time...what to do, what to do?
To hedge my bets I have created another TF of 12 PT boats that will sit at efate, that makes 20 of the small craft. This may be enough to halt an enemy bombardment mission.
Herbie is being very cagey in his approach, we can only wait and see...
My knowledge of the carrier fleet appears to be increasing - he seems to have most of his flat tops in this group. If this is the case they are markedly more superior than the 3 CVs I have remaining. In which case I really need him to commit their aricraft, preferably at long range, against a well CAPed surface fleet with good AAA capability.
The perfect scenario would be for him to attack my BBs at range 8-10 so the kates cannot carry torpedoes, most of the hits should then be superficial while I will still be downing planes, added to this his aircraft will have to fly the long distance back to their carriers: room for more losses.
To orchestrate this I have to have a better idea of where he is aiming. At present this looks like an attack on Efate or a resupply of Luganville. I would imagine he will want to shutdown the airfield at Efate, which is the original target for my surface fleet; of course they can't be targets for carrier planes and defending Efate at the same time...what to do, what to do?
To hedge my bets I have created another TF of 12 PT boats that will sit at efate, that makes 20 of the small craft. This may be enough to halt an enemy bombardment mission.
Herbie is being very cagey in his approach, we can only wait and see...
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