Ok folks, here we go again. Details of the impending slugfest as follows:
Allied Player - Shadow of the Condor
Japanese Player - Lord Hawke
Scenario 17
- 200% IJN Naval commitment
- 200% Allied Naval commitment
- Japanese sub doctrine Off
- Very Variable Reinforcements
- Allied Damage Control On
- Fog of War On
- 1 Day turns
- Auto Sub Off
The fireworks begin shortly. Watch out for it!
The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
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neuromancer
- Posts: 630
- Joined: Wed May 29, 2002 9:03 pm
- Location: Canada
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
WOAH! Slugfest is right! 200% commitment! for both of you?
This should be messy!
This should be messy!
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
I can tell Condor wants to make very sure he gets all his CVs this game.[:D][:D]
Quark
Quark
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Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
Well, I did say I would allow the opponent to select the commitment level. I've not played with this high of a level before - should be interesting.
Looking forward to it. We have agreed on a single AAR for this match. as such, here is the opening salvo...............
30 April 42
".....all available Pacific Fleet forces will be at your disposal. This effort by the Japanese is regarded to be the main thrust of their war effort, and as such........"
He didn't need to read any more. "As such", he thought, "yours will be the sole responsibility of the defense of the Southwest Pacific Area". So the planners at Washington finally woke up to the reason for the attack on Pearl almost 5 months ago. Japan didn't want the United States as a possession, but Australia was another story.
He had a large area to be protected. The Japanese could literally strike anywhere, and conventional thinking listed Port Moresby as a prime first target. Guadalcanal was also a target, and each had their own benefits - PM was part of a larger land mass and could offer a natural barrier to the enemy's bases at Rabaul, Wewak, and Kavieng. Guadalcanal, however was within one day's sail from a well-established IJN base at the Shortland Islands.
The convential thinking was that his forces couldn't match up with the enemy's - at least not yet. Give him 6 months, or even four, and the enemy would begin to see the results of America's industrial complex operating at capacity. That was how this was supposed to play out. His own intelligence reports said so.
He studied the records of his opponent (whose name he couldn't pronounce, and had taken to calling him simply the Hawk), and grunted a bit as he read. This "Hawk" could be expected to sortie as many as ten carriers against him. Not counting battleships, cruisers, destroyers, transports, submarines, aircraft, gunboats, barges..... The threat here was indeed formidible. Not only to PM or Guadalcanal, but even to Brisbane, or Noumea itself.
Weather was supposed to be lousy for the beginning of May. Tomorrow was supposed to se thuderstorms throughout the area.
Storms indeed......
Looking forward to it. We have agreed on a single AAR for this match. as such, here is the opening salvo...............
30 April 42
".....all available Pacific Fleet forces will be at your disposal. This effort by the Japanese is regarded to be the main thrust of their war effort, and as such........"
He didn't need to read any more. "As such", he thought, "yours will be the sole responsibility of the defense of the Southwest Pacific Area". So the planners at Washington finally woke up to the reason for the attack on Pearl almost 5 months ago. Japan didn't want the United States as a possession, but Australia was another story.
He had a large area to be protected. The Japanese could literally strike anywhere, and conventional thinking listed Port Moresby as a prime first target. Guadalcanal was also a target, and each had their own benefits - PM was part of a larger land mass and could offer a natural barrier to the enemy's bases at Rabaul, Wewak, and Kavieng. Guadalcanal, however was within one day's sail from a well-established IJN base at the Shortland Islands.
The convential thinking was that his forces couldn't match up with the enemy's - at least not yet. Give him 6 months, or even four, and the enemy would begin to see the results of America's industrial complex operating at capacity. That was how this was supposed to play out. His own intelligence reports said so.
He studied the records of his opponent (whose name he couldn't pronounce, and had taken to calling him simply the Hawk), and grunted a bit as he read. This "Hawk" could be expected to sortie as many as ten carriers against him. Not counting battleships, cruisers, destroyers, transports, submarines, aircraft, gunboats, barges..... The threat here was indeed formidible. Not only to PM or Guadalcanal, but even to Brisbane, or Noumea itself.
Weather was supposed to be lousy for the beginning of May. Tomorrow was supposed to se thuderstorms throughout the area.
Storms indeed......
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
ORIGINAL: Quark
I can tell Condor wants to make very sure he gets all his CVs this game.[:D][:D]
Quark
Hee.. [:D] nope. Actually I want to get all my toys. Call it Sc 19 Nostalgia.
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
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madflava13
- Posts: 1501
- Joined: Wed Feb 07, 2001 10:00 am
- Location: Alexandria, VA
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
This promises to be another epic... Looking forward to it very much gentlemen...
"The Paraguayan Air Force's request for spraying subsidies was not as Paraguayan as it were..."
It begins...
Aboard the Yamato, Hashirajima Bay, Japan. April 30th, 1942. 1200h.
"As you are well aware, our adversary, codename 'Condor', is experienced and capable. I do not expect him to make many mistakes. And if we make one, I trust he will be quick to captalise on it."
The assembled officers shuffled uneasily, but the Admiral did not mince his words. So they had been the victors at Pearl Harbor, but that was now a distant memory as far as he was concerned.
"Naval General Staff's directive for the conduct of operations is to cut off Australia in the South Pacific and isolate the Americans. I have concurred with them on that score. We will devote as much of our naval resources in the Australian operation as we can spare. As we speak, 6th Carrier Striking Force has already deployed to Truk. We expect to engage the enemy within the next week or so."
"What's the word from the Army, sir? Are they with us?" Vice Admiral Kondo piped up.
"I'm afraid they can only make a limited commitment to the Pacific theater. Their eyes are focussed on Manchuria instead. The Russians are still too much of a threat." The Admiral spoke the truth, but the faint sneer in his tone hinted on his true feelings about the whole matter. There they go, the damned fool Army! Starting a war they don't have the guts to fight, and trusting the Navy to win it for them.
"Well, we have to make do with what we have. The Americans will only get stronger, but until then," he paused for effect. "Until then, we cannot allow him a moment's rest. I trust you will do your best. Good luck, gentlemen."
He bowed stiffly, then the assembly dismissed. Many would leave that very evening, carrying their respective operational plans for the coming campaign. And for many, it would be the last time they would ever see their beloved Japan.
"As you are well aware, our adversary, codename 'Condor', is experienced and capable. I do not expect him to make many mistakes. And if we make one, I trust he will be quick to captalise on it."
The assembled officers shuffled uneasily, but the Admiral did not mince his words. So they had been the victors at Pearl Harbor, but that was now a distant memory as far as he was concerned.
"Naval General Staff's directive for the conduct of operations is to cut off Australia in the South Pacific and isolate the Americans. I have concurred with them on that score. We will devote as much of our naval resources in the Australian operation as we can spare. As we speak, 6th Carrier Striking Force has already deployed to Truk. We expect to engage the enemy within the next week or so."
"What's the word from the Army, sir? Are they with us?" Vice Admiral Kondo piped up.
"I'm afraid they can only make a limited commitment to the Pacific theater. Their eyes are focussed on Manchuria instead. The Russians are still too much of a threat." The Admiral spoke the truth, but the faint sneer in his tone hinted on his true feelings about the whole matter. There they go, the damned fool Army! Starting a war they don't have the guts to fight, and trusting the Navy to win it for them.
"Well, we have to make do with what we have. The Americans will only get stronger, but until then," he paused for effect. "Until then, we cannot allow him a moment's rest. I trust you will do your best. Good luck, gentlemen."
He bowed stiffly, then the assembly dismissed. Many would leave that very evening, carrying their respective operational plans for the coming campaign. And for many, it would be the last time they would ever see their beloved Japan.
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: It begins...
30 April 42… Briefing room, Operations building, Noumea, New Caledonia…
"…it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard of…where are we supposed to get the ships to pull this off?"
"The whole Jap navy supposedly is coming down our throats, and he wants to…………"
ATTENTION ON DECK!
Walking in, the admiral motioned his staff to be seated, sat down himself, and began.
“It seems, gentlemen, you’ve had some time to review my orders. The Japs are coming. Washington has given me ‘every confidence’, which means it’s my hide if we fail.
“And ours…” an officer breathed.
The Admiral motioned to the lieutenant from intelligence who waited at the door with his briefing but was clearly uncomfortable being in “flag country.” (edit...apologies to Mr. Clancy - I couldn't resist.)
"Sir, our intercepts of Japanese radio traffic lead us to believe they will strike at Australia. To do this, they would need to neutralize our base at Port Moresby and…”
”Neutralize??”, a Captain snorted…”Don’t you mean ‘capture’?”
“Beg pardon, sir, but we do not believe they will capture the base. We believe they see it as a threat to their surface and carrier forces. The Army would want to capture it, but the Navy would be content to simply bombard it until the base could no longer operate aircraft. And their Army is tied down by the Russians.”
But the Captain would not let the officer off the hook. “The Russians?? God almighty, son, how long can the Russians last with Hitler on their doorstep and the Japs on their back porch??”
The Admiral intervened. “Continue with the briefing, lieutenant.”
“Yes sir. We have also picked up increases in radio traffic between the enemy bases at Truk and Rabaul. One word continues to be referred to…’Mo’” We believe it’s their name for an operation into the Coral Sea. And one more thing, sir…they also make quite a few references to you. They’ve taken to calling you ‘Condor’”.
“Condor?” wondered the Admiral, “….some kind of half-assed vulture, isn’t it?”
Nobody spoke. A few heads looked downward, trying to suppress a smile.
“Thank you, lieutenant.”
The lieutenant gathered his papers and exited a little too quickly. No one could blame him.
1 April 42 0400L, Noumea harbor, onboard SC640…
At Noumea, the large task force slipped away from the harbor and began its journey towards a rendezvous at points unknown. Word was the enemy, after consolidating at Rabaul, now had its eyes set on points south. Lieutenant White, however, would not be part of that story. His “sub chaser”, SC640, was to do what it could to protect the harbor from enemy submarines. Working with three New Zealand patrol gunboats, it was hoped they could mob a contact and chase it away. It’s main weapons for its ASW role were still depth charges (both rolled off as well as fired by K-guns), but they were also fitted with two forward mounted Mk-20 Mousetraps – a poor man’s Hedgehog. The Mousetrap fired a pattern of four of the gourd-shaped weapons in patterns ahead of the ship. They could not, however, be set to go off at a certain depth. They actually had to hit the sub before exploding. Which meant the wooden vessel had to be almost on top of the sub before they could even fire. Not a very comforting thought.
So there he was. He surveyed his ship. Less than a third of the size of a destroyer, these little ships rode so low in the water that at night they were often mistaken for surfaced subs. They were so small that porpoises often were seen “attacking” the ships – indeed one of his inexperienced crew - a young seaman from Oklahoma - had thought the porpoises were torpedoes approaching and raised the alarm; afterwards his crewmates would remind the chagrined farmboy of that mistake for a long time.
With the departure of the task force, his ship was one of nine left behind with orders to “protect Noumea harbor”. The ship's captains gathered onboard the New Zealand gunboat Moa. White hadn’t worked with New Zeland officers before, but they seemed competent enough. No doubt the New Zealanders were thinking about their American counterparts as well. Their group was headed to a spit of land known as Mouly for a “training exercise”. He looked forward and saw a seaman removing the housing for the two Mk-20 Mousetraps and contemplated the “training exercise” as they slipped out to sea .
0445L...onboard HMAS Esperance Bay...Brisbane, Australia...
The private was one of the first onboard the big ship. Not that that improved his mood any. Woken up 4 hours earlier, he was only one of the thousands of troops assembled at the docks and beginning to file onto the ships. He looked left and right as he boarded and saw more ships than he ever had before in his 19 year old life. He of course, had no idea where they were going to, or even if they were going anywhere at all. Once before, they had loaded onto the big ships only to be unloaded after 5 hours in the bowels of the ship. Curses were heard everywhere as the men continued to load. Cranes were lifting cargo nets filled with ammunition and supplies. Artillery pieces were also being loaded. That, he thought, hadn't happened last time...
1300L...6,000 feet over New Ireland…
The B-17 droned on over the Japanese held islands below. 1st Lt. David Fresh was flying search patrols that day. The Husdon squadron at Port Moresby was also searching the ocean, but they didn't have the range his bomber had. He thought back to the morning briefing. His was a plane in a squadron moved from Rockhampton in Australia north to the base at Port Moresby.
“Gentlemen, we know the Japanese Navy is out there, somewhere. Your job will be to find them. Right now we need information. You’re not to engage the enemy. You’re to find him.”
The ground crew at the base heavy runway known as 7-Mile Drome had installed an auxiliary fuel tank inside the bomb bay of the massive bomber to extend even its impressive range. The gunners, however, found they only had enough ammunition for a few short bursts. Seems the order not to engage the enemy was going to be followed whether the crew agreed with it or not.
“Fresh from the factory” he heard snickered as he boarded his plane. Too true, he thought. The B-17 he learned about was to fly in formations, with the classic defensive box to ward off enemy fighters. Here, however, he was alone, over enemy held territory. Little in the way of ammunition, his plane’s greatest weapon was its radio…
The young lieutenant snapped from his reverie and keyed his intercom. “Headed home…” he announced. The storms earlier in the day were easing a bit. Flying in this weather wasn’t a good thing to do in peacetime, let alone in a war. Someone was very worried about where the Japs were to order search missions in this weather. So far, they hadn’t encountered any fighters, and Fresh saw no reason to push his plane or his luck further. The plane began to bank left on its way back to its new home beyond the Owen Stanley mountains.
"…it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard of…where are we supposed to get the ships to pull this off?"
"The whole Jap navy supposedly is coming down our throats, and he wants to…………"
ATTENTION ON DECK!
Walking in, the admiral motioned his staff to be seated, sat down himself, and began.
“It seems, gentlemen, you’ve had some time to review my orders. The Japs are coming. Washington has given me ‘every confidence’, which means it’s my hide if we fail.
“And ours…” an officer breathed.
The Admiral motioned to the lieutenant from intelligence who waited at the door with his briefing but was clearly uncomfortable being in “flag country.” (edit...apologies to Mr. Clancy - I couldn't resist.)
"Sir, our intercepts of Japanese radio traffic lead us to believe they will strike at Australia. To do this, they would need to neutralize our base at Port Moresby and…”
”Neutralize??”, a Captain snorted…”Don’t you mean ‘capture’?”
“Beg pardon, sir, but we do not believe they will capture the base. We believe they see it as a threat to their surface and carrier forces. The Army would want to capture it, but the Navy would be content to simply bombard it until the base could no longer operate aircraft. And their Army is tied down by the Russians.”
But the Captain would not let the officer off the hook. “The Russians?? God almighty, son, how long can the Russians last with Hitler on their doorstep and the Japs on their back porch??”
The Admiral intervened. “Continue with the briefing, lieutenant.”
“Yes sir. We have also picked up increases in radio traffic between the enemy bases at Truk and Rabaul. One word continues to be referred to…’Mo’” We believe it’s their name for an operation into the Coral Sea. And one more thing, sir…they also make quite a few references to you. They’ve taken to calling you ‘Condor’”.
“Condor?” wondered the Admiral, “….some kind of half-assed vulture, isn’t it?”
Nobody spoke. A few heads looked downward, trying to suppress a smile.
“Thank you, lieutenant.”
The lieutenant gathered his papers and exited a little too quickly. No one could blame him.
1 April 42 0400L, Noumea harbor, onboard SC640…
At Noumea, the large task force slipped away from the harbor and began its journey towards a rendezvous at points unknown. Word was the enemy, after consolidating at Rabaul, now had its eyes set on points south. Lieutenant White, however, would not be part of that story. His “sub chaser”, SC640, was to do what it could to protect the harbor from enemy submarines. Working with three New Zealand patrol gunboats, it was hoped they could mob a contact and chase it away. It’s main weapons for its ASW role were still depth charges (both rolled off as well as fired by K-guns), but they were also fitted with two forward mounted Mk-20 Mousetraps – a poor man’s Hedgehog. The Mousetrap fired a pattern of four of the gourd-shaped weapons in patterns ahead of the ship. They could not, however, be set to go off at a certain depth. They actually had to hit the sub before exploding. Which meant the wooden vessel had to be almost on top of the sub before they could even fire. Not a very comforting thought.
So there he was. He surveyed his ship. Less than a third of the size of a destroyer, these little ships rode so low in the water that at night they were often mistaken for surfaced subs. They were so small that porpoises often were seen “attacking” the ships – indeed one of his inexperienced crew - a young seaman from Oklahoma - had thought the porpoises were torpedoes approaching and raised the alarm; afterwards his crewmates would remind the chagrined farmboy of that mistake for a long time.
With the departure of the task force, his ship was one of nine left behind with orders to “protect Noumea harbor”. The ship's captains gathered onboard the New Zealand gunboat Moa. White hadn’t worked with New Zeland officers before, but they seemed competent enough. No doubt the New Zealanders were thinking about their American counterparts as well. Their group was headed to a spit of land known as Mouly for a “training exercise”. He looked forward and saw a seaman removing the housing for the two Mk-20 Mousetraps and contemplated the “training exercise” as they slipped out to sea .
0445L...onboard HMAS Esperance Bay...Brisbane, Australia...
The private was one of the first onboard the big ship. Not that that improved his mood any. Woken up 4 hours earlier, he was only one of the thousands of troops assembled at the docks and beginning to file onto the ships. He looked left and right as he boarded and saw more ships than he ever had before in his 19 year old life. He of course, had no idea where they were going to, or even if they were going anywhere at all. Once before, they had loaded onto the big ships only to be unloaded after 5 hours in the bowels of the ship. Curses were heard everywhere as the men continued to load. Cranes were lifting cargo nets filled with ammunition and supplies. Artillery pieces were also being loaded. That, he thought, hadn't happened last time...
1300L...6,000 feet over New Ireland…
The B-17 droned on over the Japanese held islands below. 1st Lt. David Fresh was flying search patrols that day. The Husdon squadron at Port Moresby was also searching the ocean, but they didn't have the range his bomber had. He thought back to the morning briefing. His was a plane in a squadron moved from Rockhampton in Australia north to the base at Port Moresby.
“Gentlemen, we know the Japanese Navy is out there, somewhere. Your job will be to find them. Right now we need information. You’re not to engage the enemy. You’re to find him.”
The ground crew at the base heavy runway known as 7-Mile Drome had installed an auxiliary fuel tank inside the bomb bay of the massive bomber to extend even its impressive range. The gunners, however, found they only had enough ammunition for a few short bursts. Seems the order not to engage the enemy was going to be followed whether the crew agreed with it or not.
“Fresh from the factory” he heard snickered as he boarded his plane. Too true, he thought. The B-17 he learned about was to fly in formations, with the classic defensive box to ward off enemy fighters. Here, however, he was alone, over enemy held territory. Little in the way of ammunition, his plane’s greatest weapon was its radio…
The young lieutenant snapped from his reverie and keyed his intercom. “Headed home…” he announced. The storms earlier in the day were easing a bit. Flying in this weather wasn’t a good thing to do in peacetime, let alone in a war. Someone was very worried about where the Japs were to order search missions in this weather. So far, they hadn’t encountered any fighters, and Fresh saw no reason to push his plane or his luck further. The plane began to bank left on its way back to its new home beyond the Owen Stanley mountains.
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
First Turn
Watching and waiting
Cold gray South Seas echoing
The sound of thunder
-----------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/01/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cold gray South Seas echoing
The sound of thunder
-----------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/01/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
RE: It begins...
ORIGINAL: Shadow of the Condor
1 April 42 0400L, Noumea harbor, onboard SC640…
Looks like Condor started a month early! [:D] Trying to get a head start on getting those CVs.
AAR looking good guys, keep it up.
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
2 May 42
Wx: Overcast
0440L…Radio receiving station at Luganville…
The operator confirmed what he reported earlier over the phone to the disheveled ensign who was clearly not amused to be up at this hour.
‘…coming ashore…Guadalcanal out…”
The officer re-read the message a second time and made a call to Noumea, where more people would be roused earlier than anticipated.
0930L…B-17 “Southern Angel” approaching Shortland Island IJN Naval base…
Captain Gold banked hard to the right when the contacts were spotted. He knew if he could see the ship that they could see him. He also knew fighters were most likely on the way, if not already on patrol. His radioman began transmitting the contact report. They couldn’t make out very much other than the fact there were 3 ships total, but the were moving fast enough to the north to leave a wake long enough that missing it would be hard to do. They were headed north…
1400L…briefing room…Noumea, New Caledonia…
“…what appears to be an expeditionary force, Admiral. Coastwatcher reports confirmed three enemy destroyers…one of which we have identified as the Kikuzuki…arrived and unloaded troops before leaving – all within an hour’s time. A definite fast transport operation. As soon as they find it undefended…”
“They’ll set up shop”, the Admiral finished.
“Yes sir. Next, they’ll want engineers to begin building the base up, and will probably station their Betty bombers there.”
“We knew this was probably going to happen”, the Admiral reminded everyone. “Now, when is Moore going to reach the base?”
“Sir, he’s en route. He’ll be there by 2200.” The commander pointed to the track on the chart, showing Moore’s last reported position.
“Good. Now any word on the enemy carriers?”
“No sir, not yet, but transports and minesweepers reported at Rabaul by our air search……”
The briefing continued on.
Dusk, thirty miles from Shortland Island…onboard the submarine S-44…
“Sir, exec reports we’re in position.”
Commander Moore took one last look at the course track. He wasn’t worried about this, just mentally checking off threats to his boat. His job was to see what was happening at the Japanese base. If he got a shot off, that would be great. He didn’t hold much with the “official” position of hunting capital ships with submarines. They were armored, they moved too fast, and, worst of all, they fought back. He knew his torpedoes had a greater chance of hurting a transport. While on the surface, they had made good time, and had fully recharged their batteries. They were going into the enemy’s waters rested and ready for action.
‘Observation of enemy movements…’ he recalled his orders.
How he would love to observe an enemy transport moving “down” under the waves…
“Dive…”
Wx: Overcast
0440L…Radio receiving station at Luganville…
The operator confirmed what he reported earlier over the phone to the disheveled ensign who was clearly not amused to be up at this hour.
‘…coming ashore…Guadalcanal out…”
The officer re-read the message a second time and made a call to Noumea, where more people would be roused earlier than anticipated.
0930L…B-17 “Southern Angel” approaching Shortland Island IJN Naval base…
Captain Gold banked hard to the right when the contacts were spotted. He knew if he could see the ship that they could see him. He also knew fighters were most likely on the way, if not already on patrol. His radioman began transmitting the contact report. They couldn’t make out very much other than the fact there were 3 ships total, but the were moving fast enough to the north to leave a wake long enough that missing it would be hard to do. They were headed north…
1400L…briefing room…Noumea, New Caledonia…
“…what appears to be an expeditionary force, Admiral. Coastwatcher reports confirmed three enemy destroyers…one of which we have identified as the Kikuzuki…arrived and unloaded troops before leaving – all within an hour’s time. A definite fast transport operation. As soon as they find it undefended…”
“They’ll set up shop”, the Admiral finished.
“Yes sir. Next, they’ll want engineers to begin building the base up, and will probably station their Betty bombers there.”
“We knew this was probably going to happen”, the Admiral reminded everyone. “Now, when is Moore going to reach the base?”
“Sir, he’s en route. He’ll be there by 2200.” The commander pointed to the track on the chart, showing Moore’s last reported position.
“Good. Now any word on the enemy carriers?”
“No sir, not yet, but transports and minesweepers reported at Rabaul by our air search……”
The briefing continued on.
Dusk, thirty miles from Shortland Island…onboard the submarine S-44…
“Sir, exec reports we’re in position.”
Commander Moore took one last look at the course track. He wasn’t worried about this, just mentally checking off threats to his boat. His job was to see what was happening at the Japanese base. If he got a shot off, that would be great. He didn’t hold much with the “official” position of hunting capital ships with submarines. They were armored, they moved too fast, and, worst of all, they fought back. He knew his torpedoes had a greater chance of hurting a transport. While on the surface, they had made good time, and had fully recharged their batteries. They were going into the enemy’s waters rested and ready for action.
‘Observation of enemy movements…’ he recalled his orders.
How he would love to observe an enemy transport moving “down” under the waves…
“Dive…”
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
3 May 42
Wx: Clear
0300L… onboard submarine S-44…
Moore studied the ship in his periscope…
It wasn’t the transport he hoped for. Too low in the water…twin stacks…it was the Mutsuki-class destroyer he had been warned of. It was sitting calmly…barely making five knots. He considered his options. His solution had been worked up moments ago. The water here was barely 100 feet deep. He had a chance at firing at the destroyer, but he would be down to only two more salvos if he did. Was it worth the risk of shooting now……?
He refocused on the ship…just sitting there, and decided against the chance. Besides, the destroyer finally seemed to be moving now. It was very early in the campaign, and there would be other targets.
“Down scope. Chief make your depth..
“High speed screws sir!!!…range 2000 yards…bearing 180…closing fast!!!”
Moore froze for a second, and knew he’d been had. The destroyer had been bait. A helpless target, waiting for some damn fool commander eager to waltz right into the trap. And he had accommodated them nicely, thank you very much. Caught with his proverbial hand in the cookie jar, he had cards of his own to play. Four of them, as a matter of fact…
“Fire all tubes!”
As he slid the scope back down, Chief Matson depressed all four firing plungers, and the sound of compressed air releasing announced the torpedoes departure. Now the destroyers would have no doubt of what they had on the hook, but at least one of them would be too busy to look for him – he hoped…
“All back full! Rudder hard right!”
By turning perpendicular to the wake of the torpedoes Moore hoped to present as minimal a target to the closing destroyer. He learned running backwards was often very effective, causing the destroyer to drive right over him, looking for a target running away from them…
The chief had his stopwatch running from the moment he fired the torpedoes. In 40 seconds, they would all know whether they hit or not…if they survived for 40 seconds.
Moore watched the heading move from 355 towards 270.
“Rudder amidships…” he whispered. “Speed two knots. Silent routine.”
An ensign turned a switch on and off twice. Throughout the ship, the flashing lights signaled the start of a long, quiet wait.
As the old submarine settled in the displaced water, the destroyer was heard by everyone in the ship to charge past overhead. It’s engines faded slightly, then lessened measurably. The sonarman took off his hydrophone headsets…
Explosions were heard, but they were far enough away that they didn’t cause any damage. A few men looked hopefully at the Chief, who shook his head sideways. The depth charges had missed. So too, apparently, had Moore’s torpedoes.
“Ahead slow. Left to 180. Depth to 80 feet.”
Moore was trying to slip out the back door…
1000L…Wau forward base, New Guinea…
They came in from the north…soldiers and engineers alike ran for the trenches…The planes on the ground weren’t there to fight, so their pilots ran alongside the others. Earlier, fighters were seen overhead that were definitely Japanese. Each man held his breath as he huddled in the relative safety of a hole in the ground.
1050L…Wau forward base, New Guinea…
The all clear was shouted along the line, and men began to emerge to survey the damage. A few pock marks in the runway, but nothing that would hamper another day’s mission…
“One day”, a sergeant observed, “they’ll get serious about this place.”
1655L…Shortland Islands…on board S-44
Having shaken his pursuers Moore was ready to leave and scanned the area one last time with the scope… He had been spotted, and very few targets would make anchorage here for a few days. He saw one of the destroyers still prosecuting the area he had been in. He had crept away at two knots and had escaped the trap. Standing in his way, however was the second destroyer. About 2000 yards away. Just beyond the destroyer was deep water and the freedom from the confined space in the harbor. All four torpedoes were reloaded, and Moore played another card, hopefully his last one before returning to the shadows of the open ocean…
“Ahead flank,” he calmly stated. The submarine sped to life as he lowered the scope.
“Fire.”
Once again, four torpedoes left the tubes at 46 knotts. The submarine followed directly behind them at 11 knotts.
Moore didn’t really expect to hit anything. All he wanted to do was plow a path open by threatening the destroyer with a torpedo attack… He wanted out…
2000L, outside Shortland harbor…
Moore finally opened the hatch and stood in the conning tower. He trained his binoculars aft and watched the land recede from view. Fresh air flooded the insides of the sub, and the crew wondered at their luck. The skipper knew his stuff - that was for sure. Some men quietly prayed thanks, and some boisterously proclaimed their invulnerability.
Moore looked at the darkening sky and just hoped he could get his transport…
The CR:
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/02/42
Weather: Overcast
Sub attack near Shortland Island at 29,34
Japanese Ships
DD Kikuzuki
Allied Ships
SS S-44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2 Zero x 6
G3M Nell x 33
G4M1 Betty x 18
no losses
Runway hits 7
Attacking Level Bombers:
18 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
19 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
14 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 7
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sub attack near Shortland Island at 29,34
Japanese Ships
DD Kikuzuki
Allied Ships
SS S-44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Lunga
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 487 troops, 6 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 8 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Lunga base !!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wx: Clear
0300L… onboard submarine S-44…
Moore studied the ship in his periscope…
It wasn’t the transport he hoped for. Too low in the water…twin stacks…it was the Mutsuki-class destroyer he had been warned of. It was sitting calmly…barely making five knots. He considered his options. His solution had been worked up moments ago. The water here was barely 100 feet deep. He had a chance at firing at the destroyer, but he would be down to only two more salvos if he did. Was it worth the risk of shooting now……?
He refocused on the ship…just sitting there, and decided against the chance. Besides, the destroyer finally seemed to be moving now. It was very early in the campaign, and there would be other targets.
“Down scope. Chief make your depth..
“High speed screws sir!!!…range 2000 yards…bearing 180…closing fast!!!”
Moore froze for a second, and knew he’d been had. The destroyer had been bait. A helpless target, waiting for some damn fool commander eager to waltz right into the trap. And he had accommodated them nicely, thank you very much. Caught with his proverbial hand in the cookie jar, he had cards of his own to play. Four of them, as a matter of fact…
“Fire all tubes!”
As he slid the scope back down, Chief Matson depressed all four firing plungers, and the sound of compressed air releasing announced the torpedoes departure. Now the destroyers would have no doubt of what they had on the hook, but at least one of them would be too busy to look for him – he hoped…
“All back full! Rudder hard right!”
By turning perpendicular to the wake of the torpedoes Moore hoped to present as minimal a target to the closing destroyer. He learned running backwards was often very effective, causing the destroyer to drive right over him, looking for a target running away from them…
The chief had his stopwatch running from the moment he fired the torpedoes. In 40 seconds, they would all know whether they hit or not…if they survived for 40 seconds.
Moore watched the heading move from 355 towards 270.
“Rudder amidships…” he whispered. “Speed two knots. Silent routine.”
An ensign turned a switch on and off twice. Throughout the ship, the flashing lights signaled the start of a long, quiet wait.
As the old submarine settled in the displaced water, the destroyer was heard by everyone in the ship to charge past overhead. It’s engines faded slightly, then lessened measurably. The sonarman took off his hydrophone headsets…
Explosions were heard, but they were far enough away that they didn’t cause any damage. A few men looked hopefully at the Chief, who shook his head sideways. The depth charges had missed. So too, apparently, had Moore’s torpedoes.
“Ahead slow. Left to 180. Depth to 80 feet.”
Moore was trying to slip out the back door…
1000L…Wau forward base, New Guinea…
They came in from the north…soldiers and engineers alike ran for the trenches…The planes on the ground weren’t there to fight, so their pilots ran alongside the others. Earlier, fighters were seen overhead that were definitely Japanese. Each man held his breath as he huddled in the relative safety of a hole in the ground.
1050L…Wau forward base, New Guinea…
The all clear was shouted along the line, and men began to emerge to survey the damage. A few pock marks in the runway, but nothing that would hamper another day’s mission…
“One day”, a sergeant observed, “they’ll get serious about this place.”
1655L…Shortland Islands…on board S-44
Having shaken his pursuers Moore was ready to leave and scanned the area one last time with the scope… He had been spotted, and very few targets would make anchorage here for a few days. He saw one of the destroyers still prosecuting the area he had been in. He had crept away at two knots and had escaped the trap. Standing in his way, however was the second destroyer. About 2000 yards away. Just beyond the destroyer was deep water and the freedom from the confined space in the harbor. All four torpedoes were reloaded, and Moore played another card, hopefully his last one before returning to the shadows of the open ocean…
“Ahead flank,” he calmly stated. The submarine sped to life as he lowered the scope.
“Fire.”
Once again, four torpedoes left the tubes at 46 knotts. The submarine followed directly behind them at 11 knotts.
Moore didn’t really expect to hit anything. All he wanted to do was plow a path open by threatening the destroyer with a torpedo attack… He wanted out…
2000L, outside Shortland harbor…
Moore finally opened the hatch and stood in the conning tower. He trained his binoculars aft and watched the land recede from view. Fresh air flooded the insides of the sub, and the crew wondered at their luck. The skipper knew his stuff - that was for sure. Some men quietly prayed thanks, and some boisterously proclaimed their invulnerability.
Moore looked at the darkening sky and just hoped he could get his transport…
The CR:
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/02/42
Weather: Overcast
Sub attack near Shortland Island at 29,34
Japanese Ships
DD Kikuzuki
Allied Ships
SS S-44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2 Zero x 6
G3M Nell x 33
G4M1 Betty x 18
no losses
Runway hits 7
Attacking Level Bombers:
18 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
19 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
14 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 7
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sub attack near Shortland Island at 29,34
Japanese Ships
DD Kikuzuki
Allied Ships
SS S-44
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Lunga
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 487 troops, 6 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 8 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Lunga base !!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
Milk Runs
In a Type-96 land-based attack plane, somewhere over New Guinea. May 3rd 1942.
1100h.
As he sipped his hot tea from his thermos, Petty Officer Kikuchi wondered what on earth were the operations staff of the 11th Air Fleet thinking. There they were, 52 bombers plus an escort of Zeroes, heading for a little mountain strip called Wau. He hadn't even heard of the damned place, until the briefing just now.
"We believe there are transport aircraft attempting to ferry in supplies or ferry out troops. Engineers have been deployed to enlarge or maintain the strip for that purpose. Your mission is to close the airbase and demoralise the enemy. We believe there are no anti-aircraft units on hand, so you can bomb from lower altitude." The briefing officer had confidently asserted.
Still, navigating in the Owen Stanleys is no cakewalk and that Kikuchi knew too well. If they were not careful, they could fly smack into the mountainside. And it could get cloudy pretty fast out there.
"What could possibly be of value here to bomb? Just a jungle airstrip?" The other pilots were muttering about being 'treated like kids".
The base came up soon enough and the bombers lined up for their runs. The Zeroes were faithfully maintaining cover as long as possible, peeling away to higher altitude to once the run began. The weather was thankfully clear.
Kikuchi took his place behind the lead bomber of his section. He waited nervously for the flak, which never came. Finally, the lead bombardier released his bombs, and all 52 bombers followed suit. Wau was lit up with many a satisfying explosion.
Kikuchi let out a sigh of relief.
"Secondary explosion North of the target." Goto, Kikuchi's tail gunner called out.
"Must be an ammo dump," said Kikuchi. "How's the airstrip?"
"I count 6..7...no, 9 craters."
"Ah, well. Not too bad. At least it hadn't been a complete waste of time."
As the formation turned for home, Kikuchi's crew were already chattering away about dinner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/03/42
Weather: Clear
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2 Zero x 14
G3M Nell x 36
G4M1 Betty x 16
no losses
Airbase hits 3
Airbase supply hits 1
Runway hits 9
Attacking Level Bombers:
4 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
10 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
4 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
12 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
9 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
4 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
9 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Gili Gili
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 1218 troops, 6 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 12 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Gili Gili base !!! [;)]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Tulagi
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 331 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 5 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Tulagi base !!! [;)]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1100h.
As he sipped his hot tea from his thermos, Petty Officer Kikuchi wondered what on earth were the operations staff of the 11th Air Fleet thinking. There they were, 52 bombers plus an escort of Zeroes, heading for a little mountain strip called Wau. He hadn't even heard of the damned place, until the briefing just now.
"We believe there are transport aircraft attempting to ferry in supplies or ferry out troops. Engineers have been deployed to enlarge or maintain the strip for that purpose. Your mission is to close the airbase and demoralise the enemy. We believe there are no anti-aircraft units on hand, so you can bomb from lower altitude." The briefing officer had confidently asserted.
Still, navigating in the Owen Stanleys is no cakewalk and that Kikuchi knew too well. If they were not careful, they could fly smack into the mountainside. And it could get cloudy pretty fast out there.
"What could possibly be of value here to bomb? Just a jungle airstrip?" The other pilots were muttering about being 'treated like kids".
The base came up soon enough and the bombers lined up for their runs. The Zeroes were faithfully maintaining cover as long as possible, peeling away to higher altitude to once the run began. The weather was thankfully clear.
Kikuchi took his place behind the lead bomber of his section. He waited nervously for the flak, which never came. Finally, the lead bombardier released his bombs, and all 52 bombers followed suit. Wau was lit up with many a satisfying explosion.
Kikuchi let out a sigh of relief.
"Secondary explosion North of the target." Goto, Kikuchi's tail gunner called out.
"Must be an ammo dump," said Kikuchi. "How's the airstrip?"
"I count 6..7...no, 9 craters."
"Ah, well. Not too bad. At least it hadn't been a complete waste of time."
As the formation turned for home, Kikuchi's crew were already chattering away about dinner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/03/42
Weather: Clear
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2 Zero x 14
G3M Nell x 36
G4M1 Betty x 16
no losses
Airbase hits 3
Airbase supply hits 1
Runway hits 9
Attacking Level Bombers:
4 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
10 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
4 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
12 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
9 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
4 x G4M1 Betty at 3000 feet
9 x G3M Nell at 3000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Air attack on Wau , at 8,35
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
no losses
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Gili Gili
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 1218 troops, 6 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 12 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Gili Gili base !!! [;)]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Tulagi
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 331 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 5 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Tulagi base !!! [;)]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: Milk Runs
6 May 42
Wx: Clear
0912L…Noumea air operations center...
Steve Parker left his Wildcat to the capable hands of his ground crew. His morning CAP flight had been uneventful. He did notice, however, 5 shiny new F4F-3’s parked neatly in a row. Walking into the air-conditioned office, he went straight for the head. Coming out, the young pilot watched the new planes being added to the “reserve” list. The “Hell Hounds” (edit: I managed to find their right nickname during 1942) of VMF-212 had only nine pilots, but at least they had all of their planes…
1100L…Noumea base operations center…
Major General Allen walked into the building. Upon arriving at the base, the 7th Australian Infantry Division brigade commanders began issuing orders and personnel began augmenting the severely undermanned defenses at the base. The “Americal” division was all that was on hand to “defend” Noumea. The general doubted they could hold and decided the move bringing a full strength division to Noumea made sense. He wanted to meet this new American commander and judge the man for himself.
1400L…onboard USS Neosho…at sea…
The carriers were far away by the time the ship had its belly fuel of fuel oil. A lot of ships would need this very soon, and Captain Phillips was going to make sure it was delivered. His ship was following his escort, the destroyer Sims, as they sailed. He wanted a second destroyer, but there were none available. He tried to focus his thoughts on what he had, rather than didn’t have.
He failed…
1511L… 1000 feet above the coast of New Caledonia…
Over two hours since he had taken off from the new base at Koumac, Lt. JG Kevin Powell increased his throttles of his Catalina a bit, bringing the ungainly aircraft back to her cruising speed of 115 knotts. Slow and defenseless, the plane made an ideal platform for the mission. Flying lazy circles, they were looking for submarines. They had not sighted anything, but they knew it was just a matter of time...
1530L... Noumea base communications center...code room...
Yet another of the unending stream of messages from New Guinea arrived...this one, like almost all the others, was marked as PRIORITY. Unlike all the others, this one was transmitted in the clear. The operator re-read the message .....'Buna has fallen'..... before sealing it and calling for a runner to deliver it to staff in the main building...
Wx: Clear
0912L…Noumea air operations center...
Steve Parker left his Wildcat to the capable hands of his ground crew. His morning CAP flight had been uneventful. He did notice, however, 5 shiny new F4F-3’s parked neatly in a row. Walking into the air-conditioned office, he went straight for the head. Coming out, the young pilot watched the new planes being added to the “reserve” list. The “Hell Hounds” (edit: I managed to find their right nickname during 1942) of VMF-212 had only nine pilots, but at least they had all of their planes…
1100L…Noumea base operations center…
Major General Allen walked into the building. Upon arriving at the base, the 7th Australian Infantry Division brigade commanders began issuing orders and personnel began augmenting the severely undermanned defenses at the base. The “Americal” division was all that was on hand to “defend” Noumea. The general doubted they could hold and decided the move bringing a full strength division to Noumea made sense. He wanted to meet this new American commander and judge the man for himself.
1400L…onboard USS Neosho…at sea…
The carriers were far away by the time the ship had its belly fuel of fuel oil. A lot of ships would need this very soon, and Captain Phillips was going to make sure it was delivered. His ship was following his escort, the destroyer Sims, as they sailed. He wanted a second destroyer, but there were none available. He tried to focus his thoughts on what he had, rather than didn’t have.
He failed…
1511L… 1000 feet above the coast of New Caledonia…
Over two hours since he had taken off from the new base at Koumac, Lt. JG Kevin Powell increased his throttles of his Catalina a bit, bringing the ungainly aircraft back to her cruising speed of 115 knotts. Slow and defenseless, the plane made an ideal platform for the mission. Flying lazy circles, they were looking for submarines. They had not sighted anything, but they knew it was just a matter of time...
1530L... Noumea base communications center...code room...
Yet another of the unending stream of messages from New Guinea arrived...this one, like almost all the others, was marked as PRIORITY. Unlike all the others, this one was transmitted in the clear. The operator re-read the message .....'Buna has fallen'..... before sealing it and calling for a runner to deliver it to staff in the main building...
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
Stormy Weather
Aboard the Yamato, Hashirajima Bay, Japan. May 7th 1942. 1900h.
The Admiral was in one of his moods tonight.
"Couldn't they have radioed this sooner. I really expected better from Tanaka."
His staff made no reply. In his hand, the reports spoke for themselves. The Sazanami had struck a mine, and the Kako had taken a torpedo from an American S-boat. At least Tanaka had pressed on and done his job. He could not imagine what would have happened if there had been more viable opposition.
He sighed.
"Advise Admiral Yamaguchi..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/07/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
Sub attack at 11,42
Japanese Ships
CA Kako, Torpedo hits 1 [:(]
Allied Ships
SS S-40
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Naval bombardment of Port Moresby, at 10,40
Allied aircraft
Allied aircraft losses
no losses
Allied ground losses:
Men lost 22
Airbase hits 12
Airbase supply hits 4
Runway hits 48
Port fuel hits 1
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Woodlark Island
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 228 troops, 1 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 5 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Woodlark Island base !!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Admiral was in one of his moods tonight.
"Couldn't they have radioed this sooner. I really expected better from Tanaka."
His staff made no reply. In his hand, the reports spoke for themselves. The Sazanami had struck a mine, and the Kako had taken a torpedo from an American S-boat. At least Tanaka had pressed on and done his job. He could not imagine what would have happened if there had been more viable opposition.
He sighed.
"Advise Admiral Yamaguchi..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/07/42
Weather: Thunderstorms
Sub attack at 11,42
Japanese Ships
CA Kako, Torpedo hits 1 [:(]
Allied Ships
SS S-40
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Naval bombardment of Port Moresby, at 10,40
Allied aircraft
Allied aircraft losses
no losses
Allied ground losses:
Men lost 22
Airbase hits 12
Airbase supply hits 4
Runway hits 48
Port fuel hits 1
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ground combat at Woodlark Island
Japanese Deliberate attack
Attacking force 228 troops, 1 guns, 0 vehicles
Defending force 0 troops, 0 guns, 0 vehicles
Japanese assault odds: 5 to 1 (fort level 0)
Japanese forces CAPTURE Woodlark Island base !!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: A roll of the dice
7 May 42
Wx: Thunderstorms
0032L…60 miles SSE of Port Moresby…onboard S-40…
Commander Lucker was amazed. The damn ship just appeared in the heavy seas. His sector – his “hunting preserve” - was this little patch of ocean. Thirty miles worth, and he was free to attack whatever wandered in. And this time, he had been in the right place, at the right time, and with the right weapon. The attack had gone off without a hitch, even if only one of the torpedoes found its mark. The Japs couldn’t have made it any easier. They didn’t zigzag at all. Their “escorts” made a half-hearted attempt to locate the hunter, but they were clearly more interested in continuing on. The big cruiser seemed to be barely aware it had been hit, much less attacked, and continued on its way, although a few fires could be seen before being lost in the rain…
“Down scope. Surface.”
Lucker asked his exec to get the contact report out to Port Moresby and then moved to his “stateroom” where he took out his personal journal and began to write. Perhaps his surname was an omen. Of that he couldn’t be sure. He could be sure, however, that they had just been the beneficiaries of one of the luckiest rolls of the dice in a long time for the US Navy…
0041L…Base Operations…Port Moresby…
The radioman on duty picked up the field phone and cranked the handle. After being connected to the officer on duty, he relayed the contact report he had just copied. Fifteen minutes later, the base was alive with men startled out of their sleep. Ground crews that had been working through the night began to bark orders, and the 50 planes at the base were moved under protective shelters known as revetments. Most of the men stayed in the shelters with the planes. Word was spreading fast that a US sub had torpedoed a Jap ship – maybe even a battleship! – but they were still headed towards the base. Everyone knew what that meant…
0213L…Port Moresby base…New Guinea…
Chance fortune – who earlier that night smiled on the Allies with the improbable intercept of the IJN cruiser – now offered her hand to the ships bombarding the base. The first salvo fell short of the airbase proper and landed near the port facilities, where a fuel oil bunker was lanced and ignited. The bunker burst open showering fire everywhere. The harbormaster’s office, along with three men inside, was incinerated in the inferno. Worst of all, the base was now lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Shells started to explode with impunity all along the runways of the base. The base operations hut was hit and it simply vanished. The tower had been blown apart, and 55-gallon drums of aviation fuel were exploding, adding their fires to the carnage. Deafening explosions rocked the base, muting the screams of the wounded and dying…
0600L…Port Moresby base…New Guinea…
Luck tantalized but ultimately turned her back on the ships bombarding the base. For all the damage they had dealt…and it had indeed been substantial, not a single plane was damaged. If the holes in the runways could be patched, the base could resume its role as the thorn in the Empire’s side.
0756L…onboard S-40…docked at Port Moresby…
Commander Lucker was stunned. He had never witnessed the aftermath of a bombardment, and the image would, he was sure, remain with him for a long time. Smoke was everywhere. The harbormaster’s shack was… gone??!? Amazingly, however, the base still had electrical service, and auxiliary pumps were refueling the submarine. Torpedoes were manhandled into the sub, replacing the four used the night before. His elation over the attack on the cruiser soured immediately, and he had wondered if just one more torpedo had hit this might have all been avoided…
Wx: Thunderstorms
0032L…60 miles SSE of Port Moresby…onboard S-40…
Commander Lucker was amazed. The damn ship just appeared in the heavy seas. His sector – his “hunting preserve” - was this little patch of ocean. Thirty miles worth, and he was free to attack whatever wandered in. And this time, he had been in the right place, at the right time, and with the right weapon. The attack had gone off without a hitch, even if only one of the torpedoes found its mark. The Japs couldn’t have made it any easier. They didn’t zigzag at all. Their “escorts” made a half-hearted attempt to locate the hunter, but they were clearly more interested in continuing on. The big cruiser seemed to be barely aware it had been hit, much less attacked, and continued on its way, although a few fires could be seen before being lost in the rain…
“Down scope. Surface.”
Lucker asked his exec to get the contact report out to Port Moresby and then moved to his “stateroom” where he took out his personal journal and began to write. Perhaps his surname was an omen. Of that he couldn’t be sure. He could be sure, however, that they had just been the beneficiaries of one of the luckiest rolls of the dice in a long time for the US Navy…
0041L…Base Operations…Port Moresby…
The radioman on duty picked up the field phone and cranked the handle. After being connected to the officer on duty, he relayed the contact report he had just copied. Fifteen minutes later, the base was alive with men startled out of their sleep. Ground crews that had been working through the night began to bark orders, and the 50 planes at the base were moved under protective shelters known as revetments. Most of the men stayed in the shelters with the planes. Word was spreading fast that a US sub had torpedoed a Jap ship – maybe even a battleship! – but they were still headed towards the base. Everyone knew what that meant…
0213L…Port Moresby base…New Guinea…
Chance fortune – who earlier that night smiled on the Allies with the improbable intercept of the IJN cruiser – now offered her hand to the ships bombarding the base. The first salvo fell short of the airbase proper and landed near the port facilities, where a fuel oil bunker was lanced and ignited. The bunker burst open showering fire everywhere. The harbormaster’s office, along with three men inside, was incinerated in the inferno. Worst of all, the base was now lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Shells started to explode with impunity all along the runways of the base. The base operations hut was hit and it simply vanished. The tower had been blown apart, and 55-gallon drums of aviation fuel were exploding, adding their fires to the carnage. Deafening explosions rocked the base, muting the screams of the wounded and dying…
0600L…Port Moresby base…New Guinea…
Luck tantalized but ultimately turned her back on the ships bombarding the base. For all the damage they had dealt…and it had indeed been substantial, not a single plane was damaged. If the holes in the runways could be patched, the base could resume its role as the thorn in the Empire’s side.
0756L…onboard S-40…docked at Port Moresby…
Commander Lucker was stunned. He had never witnessed the aftermath of a bombardment, and the image would, he was sure, remain with him for a long time. Smoke was everywhere. The harbormaster’s shack was… gone??!? Amazingly, however, the base still had electrical service, and auxiliary pumps were refueling the submarine. Torpedoes were manhandled into the sub, replacing the four used the night before. His elation over the attack on the cruiser soured immediately, and he had wondered if just one more torpedo had hit this might have all been avoided…
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
RE: Stormy Weather
Rabaul, New Britain. May 8th 1942. 1600h
Lieutenant Maeda taxied his Type-96 bomber into the newly-built concrete-shelter. Behind him, the rest of the day's raiders were landing on the enlarged runway.
"Admiral Tsukahara would like a word with you, sir. " A messenger came up to him as he climbed out of the bomber.
"Not even a minute's rest," he muttered. Bombing Port Moresby was no cakewalk. If not for those autopilots, which ironically, had been imported from America before the war...
He trudged to the HQ, which was installed in a concrete bunker. "Maeda reporting."
"Well, how did it go?" Admiral Tsukahara would've let him rest. But the Old Man was hurrying him for a report as well. This Operation Crane was getting on everyone's nerves.
"Port Moresby's out of action for now. I could still see the craters left by the bombardment force. We plastered it some more, and destroyed some transports and seaplanes. There's one thing though..."
"What? What's that?"
"There were no fighters. Or bombers either for that matter. The base looked pretty empty of aircraft. There was flak, but well...not enough to stop us."
" No combat aircraft...hmm..." Tsukahara knitted his brows, deep in thought.
"You're dismissed Maeda. Go get some rest," he said, finally.
Maeda was already turning and walking towards the entrance. Tsukahara wasn't finished.
"You'll need it."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/08/42
Weather: Partly Cloudy
Air attack on Port Moresby , at 10,40
Japanese aircraft
G3M Nell x 36
G4M1 Betty x 20
Allied aircraft
Japanese aircraft losses
G3M Nell x 1 damaged
G4M1 Betty x 2 damaged
Allied aircraft losses
PBY Catalina x 1 destroyed
PBY Catalina x 4 damaged
C-47 Dakota x 1 destroyed
Allied ground losses:
Men lost 16
Airbase hits 8
Runway hits 19
Attacking Level Bombers:
3 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
11 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
3 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
11 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
3 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
19 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
6 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lieutenant Maeda taxied his Type-96 bomber into the newly-built concrete-shelter. Behind him, the rest of the day's raiders were landing on the enlarged runway.
"Admiral Tsukahara would like a word with you, sir. " A messenger came up to him as he climbed out of the bomber.
"Not even a minute's rest," he muttered. Bombing Port Moresby was no cakewalk. If not for those autopilots, which ironically, had been imported from America before the war...
He trudged to the HQ, which was installed in a concrete bunker. "Maeda reporting."
"Well, how did it go?" Admiral Tsukahara would've let him rest. But the Old Man was hurrying him for a report as well. This Operation Crane was getting on everyone's nerves.
"Port Moresby's out of action for now. I could still see the craters left by the bombardment force. We plastered it some more, and destroyed some transports and seaplanes. There's one thing though..."
"What? What's that?"
"There were no fighters. Or bombers either for that matter. The base looked pretty empty of aircraft. There was flak, but well...not enough to stop us."
" No combat aircraft...hmm..." Tsukahara knitted his brows, deep in thought.
"You're dismissed Maeda. Go get some rest," he said, finally.
Maeda was already turning and walking towards the entrance. Tsukahara wasn't finished.
"You'll need it."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/08/42
Weather: Partly Cloudy
Air attack on Port Moresby , at 10,40
Japanese aircraft
G3M Nell x 36
G4M1 Betty x 20
Allied aircraft
Japanese aircraft losses
G3M Nell x 1 damaged
G4M1 Betty x 2 damaged
Allied aircraft losses
PBY Catalina x 1 destroyed
PBY Catalina x 4 damaged
C-47 Dakota x 1 destroyed
Allied ground losses:
Men lost 16
Airbase hits 8
Runway hits 19
Attacking Level Bombers:
3 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
11 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
3 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
11 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
3 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
19 x G3M Nell at 6000 feet
6 x G4M1 Betty at 6000 feet
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lord Hawke
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum.
"He who desires peace, prepares for war."
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
10 May 42
Wx: Overcast
0237L…Port Moresby, New Guinea…
The explosion was far off, but close enough that the work parties were roused out of their few hours of sleep. The IJN followed up the first naval bombardment with an air raid that completed the job started by their Navy. This time, planes were destroyed. So it stood to reason that the ships would be back for another overnight session.
The explosion caused a few panicked screams, but the men were already sleeping in their bunkers, so there was nowhere to run to. The reactions varied from the cursing of every mother’s son of the Empire to the prayers of men who promised anything to their god if they would be spared.
While it is uncertain as to the status of every mother’s son of the Empire, at least – this night – the prayers were answered.
Nothing else happened.
The men didn’t know what to do. Most thought it was some sort of trick, but nobody ventured out of the relative safety a few feet of sand bags provided to see for themselves.
0430L…Naval Station Kunia…Oahu, Hawaii…
“That’s the second one in as many days. A radio message from the Jap base at Gili Gili. Another Japanese ship ran into one of their own mines! Yesterday, a destroyer…today it was a cruiser called Haguro. Don’t they know where they put their own mines??”
His companion sipped his coffee and, in-between bites of his sandwich – answered…
“Harris, what probably happened was the mines broke free of their moorings and began floating around free. That’s why the Navy put the base off-limits to shipping traffic – at least that’s the reason they gave……you don’t think, do ya that they…”
Harris cut him off. “Jenkins, I couldn’t care less. All I do is work in this dirty, smelly tunnel. Why things are put into messages isn’t our concern. Hell, half the stuff we get from our own radios is probably false anyway. Anyway, I gotta get back.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Break’s over buddy.”
1143L…flight line…Koumac airbase, New Caledonia…
The crew chief scratched his head. “Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, but you can drop it off at the maintenance shack. See Lt. Anson and he’ll sign for it, good enough son?”
The Army corporal put the 2-1/2 ton truck into gear and drove to the shack, where he presented the officer with the proper forms. Back on the flight line, Lt. Powell was walking towards his plane, getting ready for the afternoon search mission. The crew chief muttered and shook his head.
“What?”, Powell asked.
Like I said sir…someone goofed up. Sent us a truckload of paint! Black paint, sir.”
Powell thought for a moment. “That is unusual…” His voice trailed off as he began the walk around of his aircraft with his chief...
Wx: Overcast
0237L…Port Moresby, New Guinea…
The explosion was far off, but close enough that the work parties were roused out of their few hours of sleep. The IJN followed up the first naval bombardment with an air raid that completed the job started by their Navy. This time, planes were destroyed. So it stood to reason that the ships would be back for another overnight session.
The explosion caused a few panicked screams, but the men were already sleeping in their bunkers, so there was nowhere to run to. The reactions varied from the cursing of every mother’s son of the Empire to the prayers of men who promised anything to their god if they would be spared.
While it is uncertain as to the status of every mother’s son of the Empire, at least – this night – the prayers were answered.
Nothing else happened.
The men didn’t know what to do. Most thought it was some sort of trick, but nobody ventured out of the relative safety a few feet of sand bags provided to see for themselves.
0430L…Naval Station Kunia…Oahu, Hawaii…
“That’s the second one in as many days. A radio message from the Jap base at Gili Gili. Another Japanese ship ran into one of their own mines! Yesterday, a destroyer…today it was a cruiser called Haguro. Don’t they know where they put their own mines??”
His companion sipped his coffee and, in-between bites of his sandwich – answered…
“Harris, what probably happened was the mines broke free of their moorings and began floating around free. That’s why the Navy put the base off-limits to shipping traffic – at least that’s the reason they gave……you don’t think, do ya that they…”
Harris cut him off. “Jenkins, I couldn’t care less. All I do is work in this dirty, smelly tunnel. Why things are put into messages isn’t our concern. Hell, half the stuff we get from our own radios is probably false anyway. Anyway, I gotta get back.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Break’s over buddy.”
1143L…flight line…Koumac airbase, New Caledonia…
The crew chief scratched his head. “Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, but you can drop it off at the maintenance shack. See Lt. Anson and he’ll sign for it, good enough son?”
The Army corporal put the 2-1/2 ton truck into gear and drove to the shack, where he presented the officer with the proper forms. Back on the flight line, Lt. Powell was walking towards his plane, getting ready for the afternoon search mission. The crew chief muttered and shook his head.
“What?”, Powell asked.
Like I said sir…someone goofed up. Sent us a truckload of paint! Black paint, sir.”
Powell thought for a moment. “That is unusual…” His voice trailed off as he began the walk around of his aircraft with his chief...
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"
-
madflava13
- Posts: 1501
- Joined: Wed Feb 07, 2001 10:00 am
- Location: Alexandria, VA
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
Hmmm.... Black Cats...
I love it!
I love it!
"The Paraguayan Air Force's request for spraying subsidies was not as Paraguayan as it were..."
-
Shadow of the Condor
- Posts: 393
- Joined: Mon Feb 09, 2004 5:11 pm
- Location: Chicago
- Contact:
RE: The Hawke vs The Condor - Sc 17
11 May 42
Wx: Overcast
0823L…Port Moresby, New Guinea…
They arrived without warning. Another airstrike, but flying at treetop level they weren’t picked up on the radar set (which was still functional by some minor miracle) until moments before the attack. This time, however, it wasn't bombers but a formation of Japanese fighters were coming in low to strafe the base. The gun crews were at their weapons since the bombardments had started, but the suddenness of the strike surprised even them, and not a shot was fired.
One C-47 was burning, and the pair on either side of it had taken a few bullet holes, but that was it. Another slap in the face by an enemy who was operating with impunity in the area.
But then the planes did something inexplicable. They came back.
This time, however, the gunners had tracked the planes and as soon as they got within range they opened fire. One plane took a direct hit from a 90mm shell in its wing root and the explosion blew the wing off, sending the plane cartwheeling into the jungle below. Other planes were hit and trailing smoke as the whole group decided it had enough and headed NW back to Lae…
The men on the ground cheered for the first time in a week. For the first time in a long time, they actually hit the enemy back, and could see the planes fly away.
No one was under any illusions about holding the base. Likewise, no one figured the Japanese would throw another such feeble strike their way. Most likely, the bombers, or worse…the ships, would be back.
But not today. Men got back to the business of rebuilding their home. Invigorated at the sight of seeing their enemy retreat from the battle, even the work seemed to be a bit less tiresome…
1212L…60 miles off the coast of Port Moresby…onboard submarine S-44
Moore looked at the message and back to his charts…and back to the message…He had just escaped by the seat of his pants from one harbor, now he was reading a message asking if he could go again. This time, however, the target was identified as Gili Gili.
“Seems the cruisers are using Gili as a replenishment base for bombardment runs into PM. We can make the trip, that’s not the question. We are asked to ‘evaluate the possibility’ of a shallow water attack at their base.”
“I don’t know, skipper. They have got to have decent escorts this time. If they come for the base here then we’re in position to intercept. We have deep water, and plenty of room to maneuver. I think we’d be putting our head in a noose.”
“I agree with the XO, sir.” Chief Matson piped up, “As it stands, the Japs know subs are in the area. S-40 tagged a cruiser almost in this very spot a couple of days ago.”
“So why would they come back here, Chief?” Moore knew his Chief of the Boat, at 32 years old, was something of an “old man” to everyone else on board (including him), and actively sought out his input as a sounding board.
“Think about it, sir. If you were the Japs, you would figure we would know they would want to avoid the area, so we wouldn’t have a sub here. Then you would just sail on by as pretty as you please. By staying here, I’d bet we get another contact within 48 hours.”
“A gambling man then, eh Chief? What kind of example you setting for us youngsters?”
“Not a gamble at all. Common sense, that’s all. Older men are blessed with it……sir.”
Moore smiled and watched the Chief turn away…bellowing to those sailors who stopped by to listen to the conversation about why this wasn’t done yet or that wasn’t done yet and about if this wasn’t the laziest group of children he had to nursemaid……and the sailors scurried back to their duties to escape the wrath of the one man they respected more than the commander.
Moore made his decision. “Signal fleet. Request we remain on station to intercept if necessary. Add our position. Let me know when they reply.”
He moved to his bunk, and opened his journal.
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/11/42
Weather: Overcast
Air attack on Port Moresby , at 10,40
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
Allied aircraft
Japanese aircraft losses
A6M2-N Rufe x 1 destroyed
A6M2-N Rufe x 6 damaged
Allied aircraft losses
C-47 Dakota x 1 destroyed
C-47 Dakota x 2 damaged
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wx: Overcast
0823L…Port Moresby, New Guinea…
They arrived without warning. Another airstrike, but flying at treetop level they weren’t picked up on the radar set (which was still functional by some minor miracle) until moments before the attack. This time, however, it wasn't bombers but a formation of Japanese fighters were coming in low to strafe the base. The gun crews were at their weapons since the bombardments had started, but the suddenness of the strike surprised even them, and not a shot was fired.
One C-47 was burning, and the pair on either side of it had taken a few bullet holes, but that was it. Another slap in the face by an enemy who was operating with impunity in the area.
But then the planes did something inexplicable. They came back.
This time, however, the gunners had tracked the planes and as soon as they got within range they opened fire. One plane took a direct hit from a 90mm shell in its wing root and the explosion blew the wing off, sending the plane cartwheeling into the jungle below. Other planes were hit and trailing smoke as the whole group decided it had enough and headed NW back to Lae…
The men on the ground cheered for the first time in a week. For the first time in a long time, they actually hit the enemy back, and could see the planes fly away.
No one was under any illusions about holding the base. Likewise, no one figured the Japanese would throw another such feeble strike their way. Most likely, the bombers, or worse…the ships, would be back.
But not today. Men got back to the business of rebuilding their home. Invigorated at the sight of seeing their enemy retreat from the battle, even the work seemed to be a bit less tiresome…
1212L…60 miles off the coast of Port Moresby…onboard submarine S-44
Moore looked at the message and back to his charts…and back to the message…He had just escaped by the seat of his pants from one harbor, now he was reading a message asking if he could go again. This time, however, the target was identified as Gili Gili.
“Seems the cruisers are using Gili as a replenishment base for bombardment runs into PM. We can make the trip, that’s not the question. We are asked to ‘evaluate the possibility’ of a shallow water attack at their base.”
“I don’t know, skipper. They have got to have decent escorts this time. If they come for the base here then we’re in position to intercept. We have deep water, and plenty of room to maneuver. I think we’d be putting our head in a noose.”
“I agree with the XO, sir.” Chief Matson piped up, “As it stands, the Japs know subs are in the area. S-40 tagged a cruiser almost in this very spot a couple of days ago.”
“So why would they come back here, Chief?” Moore knew his Chief of the Boat, at 32 years old, was something of an “old man” to everyone else on board (including him), and actively sought out his input as a sounding board.
“Think about it, sir. If you were the Japs, you would figure we would know they would want to avoid the area, so we wouldn’t have a sub here. Then you would just sail on by as pretty as you please. By staying here, I’d bet we get another contact within 48 hours.”
“A gambling man then, eh Chief? What kind of example you setting for us youngsters?”
“Not a gamble at all. Common sense, that’s all. Older men are blessed with it……sir.”
Moore smiled and watched the Chief turn away…bellowing to those sailors who stopped by to listen to the conversation about why this wasn’t done yet or that wasn’t done yet and about if this wasn’t the laziest group of children he had to nursemaid……and the sailors scurried back to their duties to escape the wrath of the one man they respected more than the commander.
Moore made his decision. “Signal fleet. Request we remain on station to intercept if necessary. Add our position. Let me know when they reply.”
He moved to his bunk, and opened his journal.
AFTER ACTION REPORTS FOR 05/11/42
Weather: Overcast
Air attack on Port Moresby , at 10,40
Japanese aircraft
A6M2-N Rufe x 8
Allied aircraft
Japanese aircraft losses
A6M2-N Rufe x 1 destroyed
A6M2-N Rufe x 6 damaged
Allied aircraft losses
C-47 Dakota x 1 destroyed
C-47 Dakota x 2 damaged
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark back to shore, instead of him leading us out to sea?"