Looking at other AARs, that's a new tactic. May I ask, in which areas, besides outside of Manila bay, you are deploying your forces? Chokepoints in DEI west of Borneo are obvious, but blockading raids from Singapore doesn't seem possible without swiftly moving small carriers there, particularly if invasion of Mersing or early landing at Singkawang or south of Singapore are planned.
Ports hit include Soerabaja, Balikpapan, Kendari, and Darwin. These are raids, not blockade-type operations, as air strikes make sticking around too dangerous. Mines make the raids a little hazardous but as we are about to see all this activity makes it hard for the Allies to gather forces for a counter-attack.
Three miles above Manila Lieutenant Sasai signals for his fighters to form back up and return to base. Susumu Ishihara relays the signal to his wingman and gets a thumbs up in return. The Zeros gather and head back towards Formosa, skirting a lightning-flicked tower of cumulonimbus as they go.
There were few enemy fighters over Manila today and most refused battle, turning away and diving at the Zero’s approach. Only one pilot tried to engage them and he was promptly shot down. Ishihara mentally salutes the man. His attack may have been futile but he had courage and died with honor.
Ishihara still does not have a kill but he is philosophical. There will be other chances. Right now he has the sky and it is enough. Sunlight glints off the wings of his plane as he begins the long flight home.
It is pitch black on the Java Sea. Clouds obscure what little moon there is. Takao and the rest of Admiral Kondo’s warships are proceeded east some 45 miles off the southern coast of Borneo.
No city dweller, Hatakeda thinks, can understand how dark a dark night at sea really is. He can barely make out the form of Godo, who is standing right beside him. The big Type 92 searchlight they are standing beside is almost invisible.
With the lack of visual input the eyes often try to invent things, to transform random sensory flashes into imagined shapes and forms. Hatakeda closes his eyes for a moment in an attempt to keep his vision fresh. The view with his eyes closed, he notes, is not noticeably different than the one with his eyes open.
Godo nudges him. “Stay awake,” he says. Hatakeda’s eyes snap open. How did Godo know? And a two-word speech, remarkable.
Suddenly searchlight from the lead Japanese destroyer, Hibiki, sends its light stabbing across the water. The beam wavers around, then settles on a strange destroyer. It is some 2500 meters ahead and 1000 meters to starboard, heading their direction on an almost reciprocal bearing.
With that the quiet night erupts into chaos. Frantic commands are yelled aboard Takao. Searchlight lance out in every direction. Hatakeda and Godo switch on the Type 21 and swing it around. The big searchlight can fully illuminate a target at over 7000 meters and when combined with the other starboard light can provide illumination out to 10,000 meters. The range here is not nearly that great.
Coming at them are seven warships, two cruisers and five destroyers. The enemy is as surprised as they are. A moment later both columns start firing at dimly glimpsed targets. Responding to shouted commands Hatakeda and Godo steady their searchlight on the closest of the two enemy cruisers.
Flares blossom overhead, bathing the sea in flickering light. From his post Hatakeda has a ringside seat for the ensuing battle. He watches as Hibiki sprints forward. Though chased by geysers of water from falling shells the ship executes a torpedo attack against the lead enemy destroyers and then comes about, all three turrets firing. Two torpedoes wreck the lead enemy ship and within minutes the other two destroyers have been hit by Hibiki’s gunfire. One of them has fires aboard and the other is disabled by a direct hit in the engine room. Through it all Hibiki is untouched. It is a magnificent performance and Hatakeda is filled with admiration for the brave little ship.
Behind the destroyers the lead enemy cruiser has angled slightly to starboard and its guns are blazing away, apparently unintimidated by the two battleships in the Japanese column. The enemy gunnery is excellent and several hits are scored against both Haruna and Kongo. The big ships, not badly damaged, return fire. Takao joins in.
Though well above the guns the searchlight platform is not a comfortable place to be during a battle. The platforms used to be screened by a blast shield but the shield restricted the arc of the searchlights too much and so was removed. With every broadside Takao fires Hatakeda’s teeth rattle in their sockets and the noise quickly renders him temporarily deaf.
He and Godo keep the searchlight on the target, though. The enemy cruiser, which Hatakeda can now recognizes as an American Brooklyn-class, begins to take damage. Several 14” shells find the range and cause devastation in the cruiser’s upper works. As the range closes the cruiser is holed twice in the side and begins to list, though its guns continue to fire with remarkable speed.
As suddenly as it started the battle begins to wind down. The other enemy cruiser, smaller than the Brooklyn-class and flying a British flag, has been hit by two 8” shells from Atago and turns away. Screened by smoke from the surviving enemy destroyers it disappears into the night. It is chased by a few final salvos from the Japanese but escapes. The stricken American cruiser’s guns fall silent and the Japanese hold their fire as the brave crew abandons ship. Behind it the bow of the destroyer Hibiki torpedoed disappears beneath the water and the other crippled destroyer, now abandoned, is finished by a salvo of torpedoes from Michishio.
No Japanese ship has sustained serious damage and Takao has not been hit at all. With relief Hatakeda shuts down the searchlight. At close range searchlights tend to be targets for smaller-caliber weapons and he is glad things did not come to that.
Word soon comes that they are reversing course and heading back to Indochina. Hatakeda does not mind. This foray has been a success and he has stories to tell in the waterfront bars that should be worth a number of free drinks.
Flares blossom overhead, bathing the sea in flickering light. From his post Hatakeda has a ringside seat for the ensuing battle. He watches as Hibiki sprints forward. Though chased by geysers of water from falling shells the ship executes a torpedo attack against the lead enemy destroyers and then comes about, all three turrets firing. Two torpedoes wreck the lead enemy ship and within minutes the other two destroyers have been hit by Hibiki’s gunfire. One of them has fires aboard and the other is disabled by a direct hit in the engine room. Through it all Hibiki is untouched. It is a magnificent performance and Hatakeda is filled with admiration for the brave little ship.
This time they must have a python on board . . .[:D]
Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?
Landing a plane on an aircraft carrier is never routine. The carrier’s deck is small by comparison to almost any airstrip on land and furthermore it tends to pitch and roll slightly even in good conditions. Landings must be made straight and level and within a narrow band of speed. As a pilot brings approaches the carrier small errors can accumulate very quickly and what looks like a good landing suddenly can suddenly become an adventure…or a disaster.
CPO Sado has seen a great many bad landings in his career. The one he is looking at right now is not an especially serious one. The Aichi dive bomber had come in too high and landed too heavily. It had bounced hard and was slammed back to the deck by the tail hook, which had caught the arresting wire. There was some damage to the forward landing gear as a result, nothing too bad but the plane would be out of action for a couple of days.
The pilot who had made the landing was off to the side with some of his fellows. They were laughing while the pilot grinned sheepishly. Sado barked orders and the Aichi was manhandled towards the elevator.
Just another day on the flight deck. The carriers had seen no action since Pearl Harbor and the men were getting eager to strike another blow. From Pearl they had proceeded past Wake Island, now a Japanese possession, to Truk. Now they were moving south and rumor said they going to the Coral Sea. Sado did not know why.
Nor did he much care. Admirals made the decisions and pilots got the glory. Sado’s job was to keep his flight deck running smoothly. Another Aichi would be back from patrol shortly and after that they would launch a pair of fighters and recover a couple more. He made a mental note to check a chart later, though. Sado was a practical man but there was still something about the name of their destination that caught at the imagination. The Coral Sea…it sounded very tropical and lovely.
His name is Lieutenant Commander Ishii, and he is the captain of Imperial Japanese Navy destroyer Hibiki. For some he will need little introduction. Indeed we may think we know this man, this ship, this crew.* But since almost all of this war is yet to be fought let’s take a moment and look at Ishii and his ship.
Captain Ishii is an aggressive commander, at times impatient and a little volatile. He has a temper which he is more likely to lose with superiors than with subordinates and this has perhaps cost him a promotion or two. He has spent most of his life at sea and is a consummate ship-handler and seaman.
Ishii drives his men but is also very protective of them. He is, it has to be said, not much of an administrator. He despises paperwork and, though he recognizes the necessity for it, if matters were left in his hands important reports and requisitions would go unfiled. Fortunately his executive officer is a former academic and makes up for this deficiency.
At the moment the captain is in his small cabin, a compact chamber about 8 by 10 feet in size. He is quite pleased with his crew’s performance in the recent battle. This was their first test under fire and they performed very well. His torpedo officer, Lieutenant Sugiyura, and his gunnery officer, Lieutenant JG Kuwaki, both deserved praise. Ishii told them so, then told them there were a number of things he wanted to see improved. Drills have been scheduled.
Ishii is sitting at the small fold-down desk in his cabin writing a letter to his wife; this is one kind of paperwork he never neglects. We will leave him to complete his letter in privacy and turn our attention to the ship.
Hibiki is a “special-type” destroyer, one of the last group of Fubuki-class destroyers built (Fubiki III type or Akatsuki-class, depending on who you talk to). Hibiki was in fact the first all-welded ship built by the IJN.
The destroyer is 371 feet long and carries a crew of almost 200 men. Launched in 1933, Hibiki is a dangerous ship, with six 5” guns, nine torpedo tubes, a modest assortment of 25mm and 13.7 mm AA mounts, and a Type 94 Y-gun depth charge thrower on her stern. Her two engines are driven by three Kampon boilers. The ship’s active sonar is fairly good. Her passive sonar, like that aboard all Japanese destroyers, is mediocre at best and only functions at all if the ship is moving quite slowly.
This is a dangerous ship, capable (in 1941, at least) of meeting any other destroyer in the world on equal or better terms. And even the most powerful battleship has to respect the threat represented by her torpedoes.
All in all a good ship and a good crew. A lucky ship? Maybe. It’s still early in the war and a lot can happen. Perhaps if the destroyer happens to call at some recently liberated port in Borneo they can find a good luck charm.
It’s been known to happen.
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* Hibiki was the focus of an AAR I did on the WITP forums called "Small Ship, Big War." Improbably, the ship survived the entire war, all the way through to the Japanese surrender in August 1945.
Launched in 1933, Hibiki is a dangerous ship, with six 5” guns, nine torpedo tubes, a modest assortment of 25mm and 13.7 mm AA mounts, and a Type 94 Y-gun depth charge thrower on her stern.
Ah yes -- let's see how long Kuwaki can hang on to his third turret this time. [:D]
Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?
I see that you're just getting warmed up. I'm now current with the tale of your war and look forward to reading it with my morning coffee before I tend to my own story in the WITP forum. I hate to put pressure on you, but you've set lofty standards with "Small Ship...". Maybe some day in the future you'll craft an Allied story.
Bump.
Would seeing a Cuttlefish AAR featuring Hibiki fall to the second page anger Chief Shun?
Yes. Yes, it would.
And you do not want to anger Chief Shun.
As the sun comes up it reveals a pall of smoke hanging over Hong Kong. It also reveals a Japanese flag flying over Victoria, the capitol. The previous evening Major-General Maltby and the British governor, Sir Mark Atchison Young, surrendered at the Japanese headquarters in the Peninsula Hong Kong Hotel. The defending British, Scotch, Canadian, and Indian troops had fought well and stood off a much larger force for over a week but it had become clear that further resistance could only prolong the bloodshed, not change the outcome of the battle.
The end of the fighting has not meant the end of Hong Kong’s agony, however. Many Japanese soldiers have spent the night looting and pillaging the city; wounded prisoners and their doctors have been killed and other crimes committed. Order is only restored when the victorious troops are mustered for a ceremonial victory parade down Queen’s Avenue.
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At his desk in Tokyo war correspondent Shigeo Hata puts the finishing touches on his article about the victory. The conquest has significance beyond the capture of a city and port; the end of British rule in China is an important step towards the end of Western colonialism in Asia and Hata’s article is slanted towards that fact. That and extolling the virtues of the Japanese soldier, of course.
Hata has already heard some rumors about the sack of Hong Kong. He wants to investigate further, and he knows a couple of men in the 38th Division there who would probably talk to him, but he does not even make the request. His editor, Abe, would turn him down flat. He might even be right to do so, Hata thinks. At this stage of the war the people need confidence, not unsettling questions. At least that is what he tells himself.
But he cannot help feeling a slight twinge of disquiet. Hata has reported from New York, from London, and from many other places. He knows that the British and Americans will view such behavior as crimes and atrocities and has some idea what kind of resolve this will instill in them. He hopes this incident will be isolated. If it isn’t, and Japan does not bring this war to a swift conclusion, such actions may come back to haunt them.
Telling himself he is still a journalist, Hata goes gathers up his story and takes it to the editor’s desk.
But he cannot help feeling a slight twinge of disquiet. Hata has reported from New York, from London, and from many other places. He knows that the British and Americans will view such behavior as crimes and atrocities and has some idea what kind of resolve this will instill in them. He hopes this incident will be isolated.
I wonder if Hata will get wind of Unit 731. This story could go in some very interesting places.
Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?
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