The SBD Dauntless was an excellent plane. Fairly fast and agile for a dive bomber, with a heavy bomb load and enough armor to come back missing a wing. It had the range to scout the enemy, and still have enough to attack at the end. It could put its payload down on a pickle barrel. And it was a joy to fly. It was, in a word, the perfect dive bomber.
Or so Ensign Manuel Lawrence told himself, to take his mind off what had gone over the radio. He never wanted to hear that scream ever, ever again.
"We're going to hit the Japs with everything we've got, ya hear?" His commanding officer had ground out, when the scream stopped.
Lawrence had no desire to dispute the point. As strange as it had been to see that tall woman with blue hair walk in with the Admiral? Everyone aboard Saratoga had quickly become attached to their ship. The old girl never let them down.
And none of them would let her down, after hearing the anguish in her voice. They couldn't.
One of the downsides of the girls being visible and audible to their crew. Of course, this is going to reinforce Sara's strike packages determination to make the Japanese
pay for hurting their Sister Sara.
"I think I see something at two o'clock, sir!" That was the designated scout, the man with the best eyesight in the entire squadron. And those eyes had been looking almost religiously for any sign of Japanese warships. "Make it...at least one carrier and escorts."
Straining his own gaze down towards the ocean, far below, Lawrence let out a soft whistle. A Jap flattop was clearly visible. Boxy and fat, the ship was steaming along in formation with several destroyers. He couldn't see any smoke, but then, the Japanese had that idiotic downward facing exhaust. According to his identification book, anyway, that he had turned his eyes towards and was frantically paging through.
Not Akagi. Not Soryuu. Kaga?
Glancing back down at the carrier, blissfully unaware of the Americans rapidly approaching, the Ensign clicked his tongue. It was certainly ungainly enough to be Kaga. Right.
This is going to be exciting. Training can only do so much.
"You alright back there?" Lawrence spared a glance over his shoulder, shouting back at his gunner.
A slam into his seat answered him, and a grin he couldn't see. "Of course! I'd pay good money for a chance to get some back for Pearl!"
Grinning himself, Lawrence returned his attention to his wingmates. Sunlight glinted off the wings of the Dauntlesses, and the handful of Wildcats escorting them. Far below, he knew that the same light shone on Devastators. He was glad he wasn't in that deathtrap. It took a special kind of person to go into battle in a Devastator.
He wasn't that kind of person.
Regardless, those planes were still important. Admiral Thompson and Admiral Halsey had come up, jointly, with the new 'hammer and anvil' approach to bombing. The torpedo and dive bombers would coordinate their attacks as one group. The Japs wouldn't know where to send their fighters, and at least some of the weapons would get through. The divebombers were the hammer and the Devastators the anvil.
Oh hell. Kaga's about to get Midway'd
hard. She hasn't spotted the Slow But Deadlies coming in from above her. Hiryuu looks to be lucky because she has not been spotted yet.
Muttering to himself, the young American goosed his throttle a bit, pulling in behind his wingman. As the sunlight grew ever brighter, the Dauntlesses began to line up for their dive. It was now or never, and they wouldn't get another chance to hit the Japs like this again.
"Alright, everyone, let's show the Japs what it means to fight the United States Navy!"
With a chorus of cheers answering him, the Commander winged over first. And the rest of the squadron followed him, angling down on
Kaga.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
To the perspective of the Japanese, the Americans had come out of nowhere. Only a handful of
Reisen fighters had been left behind in the attack, too few remaining from the raid on Pearl Harbor. That bare handful of A6Ms had been caught off-guard, when American torpedo bombers came into sight of the lookouts aboard
Kaga and
Hiryuu. With little to no forewarning, the fighters set to their duty. Silver wings glinted, as they twisted out of patrol formation and down to attack the Americans. No plane in the world could match the A6M's agility and they proved it.
The Devastators are not the major threat here. Unfortunately for the IJN, they are the threat that the CAP is engaging, which is going to give the killing stroke a chance to drop on them.
Gaijin fools the Americans may be, they did not lack for bravery. Even as twenty millimeter shells lanced into the fuselages of their planes, the Americans kept going. One, two, three of the planes crashed into the water in flames. The Reisen, shells expended, had to pull off as fire broke out from Kaga. The Americans didn't even hesitate and dove right into the anti-aircraft fire.
Kaga was not refit to modern standards. Her defensive suite was adequate at best. Yet, the Devastators died. What else could they do? They had to fly low and slow to drop their payload, and a blind monkey could hardly fail to hit a plane such as that. The gunners aboard Kaga were no such thing. Grimly setting to their tasks, orders were barked out and men rushed forward with ammunition. It was a well oiled machine that could not fail to do its job.
The clatter of twenty-five millimeter guns was only matched by the shrill shouts of gun commanders and the thud of ammunition boxes being pulled off mounts.
Americans flew into this fusillade of defensive fire. They died.
And yet, they kept coming with a dogged determination that was almost Samurai. Inside Kaga's fighters, the pilots who had pulled off could only watch. Despite flames licking their fuselages, the Americans threw themselves into the fray. Not a single one of their planes pulled off and away, until it had released its torpedo.
I almost envy these Americans. They are fighting with more honor than many men I have seen.
Sitting secure in his Reisen, a young Japanese pilot shook his head. The Americans missed their strike on Kaga, he could see it. For all the futility of their attack, these men were worthy of respect. They deserved that much.
And Torpedo
Eight Three is dying again. But their sacrifice will not be in vain...
Grey specks were visible towards the sun. Little more than dots in his vision that could be explained away as sunspots. Yet, there were too many for that. They were moving too fast as well. It couldn't--they wouldn't--not even--
"American dive bombers!" The young pilot screamed into his radio, pulling harshly on his control stick. The force of his sudden maneuver pushed him back into his seat. His body screamed back at him, protesting his actions. He didn't even notice. "The Americans are coming from the sun!"
Around him, the other Reisen pilots were quick to turn up. Kaga's pilots were some of the most experienced in the entire Imperial Navy, and her A6M pilots were chosen for their immense skill and experience on top of that. It was a lucky man who flew a Reisen.
None of these men felt lucky now. Their beautiful fighters struggled to climb into the air, as the grey specks quickly coalesced into American planes. The roundel, a star, only drove that point home. Like shooting stars they dove down in perfect formation, one plane after another. Their gull-wings scythed through the air, while the planes went into as steep a dive as physically possible.
Beneath them, Kaga frantically pulled into a starboard turn. Even as she made that turn, forcing her escorts to do the same, a massive explosion rocked the destroyer Arare. Flames and water shot into the sky. With a tortured groan of crumpled steel, Arare began to settle into the water.
One of the American torpedoes, having overshot Kaga, impacted the destroyer. A few men cried out in a blind rage at the sight. The destroyer came to a rapid halt, listing sharply. Her crew could spare no attention for Kaga, wrapped up as they were in trying to save their own ship. Nor could the crew of Kaga provide aid to their escort.
For the American planes, screaming from the heavens, would give no time to think. Kaga's sharp turn had succeeded in throwing off the aim of the first American planes. Bombs dropped from those aircraft impacted the water on her port flank, popping rivets and buckling hull plates. However, they caused no severe damage. Men who knew what to listen for may have heard a stifled cry of pain, echoing over the thud thud thud of heavy guns joined by the clatter of machine cannons. Her crew continued to fire, the Reisen pilots ignoring the fire and charging at the Americans in their desperation to save their home.
It would not be enough.
Not every American would miss, of course. Adjusting their trajectory to compensate for the turn, the second wave of bombers was deadly accurate. Fat black bombs, larger than any Japanese weapon, fell from the centerline of each plane. Kaga, as a legacy of her battleship hull, could not turn hard or fast enough to evade them. Three bombs hit home in rapid succession. Each impact rattled the carrier and threw men to her deck. Fireballs reached into the sky, smoke and debris flying away from the carrier.
The explosions flung some men onto the decks of the nearby destroyers, and the crippled Arare was hit by a piece of Kaga's deck. A deck that had been shattered by the rapid explosions. Each bomb was enough to cripple a smaller warship, and the old carrier had taken three of them. It was a testament to her crew that she did not stop, dead in the water, despite the ruined flight deck and fires raging in her hangar.
... Because Bombing Three just
wrecked Kaga.
Well, let's see how bad it is. There are only two fire mains on board her, so one or both may have failed from blast and bomb damage, the fireproof curtains to separate the hangar deck into sections may or may not be functional, and she probably cracked her avgas tanks/lines. Also Kaga's emergency generator for the fire pumps is located in her upper hangar deck and may have been disabled (it was at Midway).
Kaga is probably dead. Arare is probably several hundred yards away at minimum, and the explosion is throwing parts of Kaga onto her, which suggests that there was a catastrophic fuel-air explosion like what historically happened to her at Midway when her avgas lit off. Now, if Tamon-maru has brains, he will cut his losses and try to tow Kaga clear, but instead he is likely going to try to destroy the American carriers...which sets up a duel to the death between the Flying Dragon and Little E.
Or, at least, their corpses. Miller could see more than a few men he had shot, laying on the ground. Dead or nearly there. Even more Japanese soldiers were piled at the foot of the machine gun nests, where they had finally been pushed back. He wasn't enough of a fool to think they were all dead. If nothing else, this was not the only beach that the Japs had landed on. But this little slice of Wake? It was as clear as it would ever be.
Corporal Miller didn't know what to feel, about that. On the one hand, the Japs were gone or dead. On the other, he wasn't able to kill any more of them.
Ah hell, at least we held the island. Now we need those navy bastards to get here and relieve us.
Letting out a tired sigh, the Marine propped his rifle against the side of the hole, and slid down. His hands shook as they pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He knew it was likely he'd have to move to fight other parts of the island, but for now, he was going to take a smoke and rest. God knew he needed it.
And the day is getting even worse for the Japanese. Looks like we will have a Third Wake sooner or later, with all the disruption that it will cause at Naval HQ in Tokyo.
Admiral...
Thompson was covered in blood. Her own and his own. His head was cradled in her lap, as she sat in the flickering lights from what remained of her electric network up here. He was quiet in her lap and she had no idea what to do. She could try and use whatever she knew from her medical teams, but she had no supplies or experience in using them. So Sara did the only thing she could.
Hold him and gently run her hand over his pale face.
"Admiral...why didn't you go somewhere safe?" Sara whispered, her hand running along a gash over his eye. Her body had shielded him, but there was only so much she could cover.
No words answered her question, either. She hadn't really expected any.
"You never did care about yourself, did you? Just about the others. Just about me."
Tears pricked at her green eyes. Tears that Sara didn't wipe away. Faintly, she heard her pilots reporting that they had hit a Japanese carrier. Words that she knew would pain her Admiral, if he could hear them. He cared too much. She often wondered. If he could really put aside the girls he knew and realize they were not the ones that he would have to face in combat.
This wasn't the way she wanted to find that out.
Poor Sara. Poor Poor Sara.
Choking back a cry, the carrier turned her reddened eyes out of her shattered command center, and over to Enterprise. Little E was the lucky one. She hadn't been hit once in this battle, and was steaming along. Her decks were crowded with her own planes and Sara's. And her voice was begging a way in.
"Aunt Sara, what's going on over there! Please talk to me!" The panic in her voice was something that Sara hated. She was the older one. She was the one who should have to take on the load of this war, and keep her Little E innocent.
But if things went anything like they had, in her Admiral's past, she wouldn't be that lucky. None of them would.
True. At least barring a catastrophic second strike on Sara or an I-Boat running into her, she will survive the battle and make it back to port.
I think right now that poor Enterprise feels very far from being a lucky ship right now. It has to be killing her by inches to watch members of her family get hurt. Of course, the tragic thing is that in order to protect Sara, E will probably have to sink Hiryu to keep her family safe. Which she will no matter the cost to her if it keeps her family and Dadmiral Halsey safe..
"I--I'm alright, Little E." Despite the hitch in her voice, Sara couldn't let herself look weak. "I'm okay."
"What about Admiral Thompson, then?" Little E's words hit harder than she probably expected. "Da---Admiral Halsey needs to know if he's okay. Is he? You haven't said anything and I'm so worried and I need to know that he--"
Ordinarily, the rambling of her little niece would have brought a smile to Sara's face. Right now, it just pained her more than any fire or any number of explosions.
"He...he's hurt. Badly." Sara returned her eyes to her entirely-too-pale Admiral. Biting her lip, she turned off her connection to Enterprise, and tried to speak through her damaged hull. "If anyone can hear me, I need a corpsman on the bridge. Please hurry, the Admiral is---the Admiral--"
She couldn't finish the sentence.
"...Aunt Sara..." Little E restored the connection, without even a second to waste. Her voice was tiny and quiet. "I..."
A connection that was soon taken away from her. Bull Halsey's gruff voice replaced it, likely speaking directly through the TBS system. "Listen up over there. Saratoga, I know what happened, but I need you to stay focused you hear me? Don't forget what he would want you to do."
Sara had never forgotten what her Admiral wanted her to do. She couldn't.
"Right now, I need to know if you can get back to Pearl. Can you?"
Looking down at her blood covered hands, Sara sucked in a deep breath. It was difficult to breathe...the damage to her stack? She wasn't sure. But she could move under her own power. Not at full speed and she wouldn't want to make sudden turns if she could avoid it. However, she could still move.
"Yes. I think I can." Her response was as mechanical as her hull.
"Damn good news." Halsey grunted, even as he barked orders at his own crew. "Right, I'm detaching Northampton and a few destroyers to escort you back. Get that Admiral of yours back before he does some damn fool thing again, and get yourself fixed up. We're going to need every ship we can get out here."
"Please be careful, Aunt Sara!" Little E managed to break in one more time, before the connection was cut entirely. Sara smiled, ever so slightly, before it faded away.
This whole section was heartbreaking. At least Thompson and Sara are in good hands and should be able to get the care that they need.
Incidentally I feel for Akagi, and I suspect that the news of this will shock Zuikaku to her core since Zuikaku would have looked up to Kaga.
There's a good reason the carriers burned down at Midway, and it doesn't bode well for poor Kaga. Also, I doubt Kaga purged her avgas lines, given that no one OTL thought it was an issue until after Coral Sea, where the lack of purging lines was considered a factor in the loss of Lexington. IIRC. I'd have to reread the story to see if it was introduced earlier for USN, but that doesn't necessarily mean IJN figured it out sooner as well.
It was introduced to the USN thanks to Thompson. He remembered the lessons of Coral Sea very well.
Also, no, the IJN didn't purge their avgas lines when not in use. But depending on the location of the hits, it could just start a localized fire, which even IJN DC can handle without too much trouble.
If their DC has the tools surviving the bomb explosions. The fire mains on Kaga were iron piping, so more vulnerable to shock than the USN steel ones and she only had two loops (one port, one starboard) plus her emergency fire main pump was in the upper hangar deck. If she loses water pressure in the fire mains thanks to shock damage on the plumbing and/or her fireproof curtains are unable to subdivide the hangar deck to contain the fires (either from damage to the curtains/roller paths or because fires in multiple comparments), Kaga is in real trouble.
The fact that you had people/bodies and parts of the flight deck getting blown far enough away to hit the escorting destroyers is a
really bad sign.