They are not going to take it well when Kamizakes start becoming deployed en mass.
Princess of Wales: A Memoir on the The Second World War and Origin of Ship Spirits (Kancolle)
- Thread starter LtRainbowSlash
- Start date
They are not going to take it well when Kamizakes start becoming deployed en mass.
force200
Megaspell Technician
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Some of the Japanese Botes (epecially Kongou) are probably not going to take that kind of crap well either. I expect a bunch of defections to happen sooner or later.
Last edited:
That would be kind of hard without being activated ...
About the spirits. Obviously, knowing they exist, Crossroads won't happen. But what to do with the surviving Japanese warships after the war? I suppose the surviving Kongou class ships can be taken in by the Royal Navy, but the others ...
force200
Megaspell Technician
- Location
- Stable <data corrupted>
Last chapter kinda foreshadowed that this kind of thing might start happening soon.
Honestly unsure about that.
Kamikazes are and we're generally viewed as acts of insanity by the US, but made a horrifying amount of sense at the time. A conventional air strike around the time they became common had an ~70% loss rate and an ~5% hit rate, while Kamikazes had a hit rate of ~15%.
This means that from a commanders view, for the same number of hits, less of his men have to die if they are deployed as Kamikazes. From a pilots view, if he flys a slightly more suicidal mission, 2 of his comrades won't have to die to accomplish the same goal.
Kamikazes weren't a fit of madness, they were the result of American AA and CAP making all missions varying degrees of suicidal, and Japanese beliefs of what would happen should they lose the war making surrender not an option.
force200
Megaspell Technician
- Location
- Stable <data corrupted>
The effectiveness of Kamikazes isn't the point here, it's people's (and more importantly shipgirl's) opinion on them.
That's the thing though, the thought process behind them isn't blind rage and madness, it's desperation and trying to minimize casualties for a given sortie.
That difference may have an impact on how it is viewed, both by the crew who carry them out and the ships themselves.
Chapter 45: The First Battle of Savo Island
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
AN: This one really fought me. I'm not too happy with how this turned out, but if I let myself get hung up on making chapters 'feel right' the story would have ground to a halt on Chapter 2 XD
Chapter 45: The First Battle of Savo Island
The night of September 11-12, 1942, would be our first taste of what the Guadalcanal campaign would bring. In my experience, there are two types of surface engagements: those that last less than half an hour, and those that don't. Any battle that lasts longer than half an hour is generally indecisive. A slog that accomplishes very little, beyond sending a great many ships to the yards for repairs. Those that do end in thirty minutes, do so because one side has utterly knackered the other. First Savo was one such battle.
SEPTEMBER 11 1942
D+1
1000 HOURS
The morning after the landings was quiet. I'd slept like a rock, and even taken the opportunity to sleep in a bit, getting up at oh-nine-hundred. I'd got dressed, ate my morning rations, and once more settled into the hammock I'd slung near our tents.
Funnily enough, within ten minutes, Howe had shown up, taken one glance at me, and then decided to mimic me, slinging her own hammock a few yards away. When I glanced over a minute later she'd pulled out a book.
I settled down after that, just relaxing in my hammock. There was literally nothing to do, until we were called. Between aerial reconnaissance, and our radars on Savo, there was no way the Japanese could get anywhere near us without being spotted. And with the addition of our fairy Marines, the four Clemson DDAs now under his command with their fairy marine platoons and ridiculous number of Oerlikons and machine guns (Whoever had come up with their new designation of Amphibious Assault Destroyers needed to be shot), and lack of Japanese troops on the island, I doubted General Vandegrift would need our firepower anytime soon.
So, all we could do was wait.
"Huh." I muttered in realisation.
Howe heard me, and glanced over. "Wales?"
"Nothing important." I waved her off. "I just realised this is what it must've been like for the pilots back during the Battle of Britain. Sitting around, waiting for the call."
"Oh. Probably." My sister replied. "We even have the same tension."
I blinked. Tension? I didn't feel tense. I glanced over at my sister. "Are you nervous, sis?"
She just looked right back at me. "And you're not?"
"Uh, no?" I shrugged. "We know the Nips are coming at some point. Just a case of waiting until then."
My sister blinked. "But… We're going to be attacked. I thought you said you were terrified during battle."
"Oh, I always am." I replied, "And right bloody nervous in the lead up. But they're not here yet, and we're not about to go into battle. No use fretting until then."
"How can you be so blase?"
I shrugged. "Comes with experience, I think."
"Oh." My sister muttered, thinking about what I said. She opened her mouth to speak again…
Only to be cut off by the wail of the airfield's air raid siren.
I just laid in my hammock a moment longer. "Oh, bother." With a sigh, I climbed out of my hammock, opening a radio channel to our radars on Savo. "Eagle Eye, Wales. What have we got?"
It took a few seconds for the Marine operating the air search radar back on Savo to reply, busy as he no doubt was alerting all commands, and preparing to vector the newly named Henderson Field's F4Fs onto the bombers. "Oi, Oioi Oi. Oioi-oi oioi, oi oi oioi oioi. Oioi oioi."
"Copy, out." I turned to Howe, "Level bombers. We'll be safer at sea."
The two of us set out at a jog for the nearby beach. The roar of aero engines starting coming from the airstrip at our backs. I hit my radio again as we ran. "Seven-niner, Wales. Incoming aircraft are level bombers at angels fifteen. Head for the beach, we'll be safer at sea."
I was correct. The bombers had been loaded with bombs, and sent to target the airfield. Even with all the transports still unloading, and the additional juicy targets we presented, they went straight for the airstrip.
What they hadn't counted on, was VMF-112, a Marine squadron flying Wildcats, who'd flown into Henderson the evening before. We'd managed a quick and dirty set up to allow the fairies operating the air search set on Savo to act as fighter control, and guide the Marine fighters onto target.
While not perfect, it had functioned. The CAP had broken up the twenty plane raid, and the rest of the scrambling F4Fs had torn into the unescorted Bettys. Only a single stick of bombs had landed on Henderson, while the rest fell into the surrounding jungle and fields.
For our part, us SHIPs had spent the raid sailing in circles just off the beach, and taking some pot shots with our heavy guns for the brief period that the bombers were in range. None of us hit anything. The moment all the bombs had fallen, I led us ashore again.
It was amazing how quickly everything went back to normal. Ten minutes later I was back in my hammock.
I managed to doze away the next few hours in the tropical heat, clad in nothing but my bra and uniform shorts. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the tropics?
I awoke to the sound of a gunshot.
For a moment, I thought I may have imagined it. Just before I closed my eyes, another shot rang out.
Curious, I climbed from the hammock, and threw on my white T-shirt. Another shot. It sounded like it was coming from the beach.
Four more shots sounded before I finished making my way through the palm grove. As I emerged onto the beach, I spotted the source: Encounter was crouched at the tree line, a Lee Enfeild in hand, aimed at several wood sticks set in the sand near the water.
As I watched, she let off a shot, which missed and splashed into the water. She quickly cycled the bolt, and her next shot splintered a stick.
As I approached I couldn't help but find some amusement in how comical the long rifle looked in her young hands. If she didn't have the extra strength being a SHIP granted her, I doubted she'd be able to hold the heavy gun steady.
But it also made her new height apparent. It wasn't much, but the E's had all put on two inches in the last six months since their hulls had sunk.
"Encounter?"
The destroyer didn't look up, instead pulling the trigger and reducing another stick to splinters. Satisfied, she racked the bolt several times, ejecting the remaining bullets and safeing the gun, and turning to me. "Hey Wales. Need something?"
I shook my head. "Just heard you shooting. Getting some practice?"
The pink haired destroyer nodded, "Yeah. After Electra… Uh…" He paused, and changed tack, "Well, I figured I'll need to use it eventually."
My brow furrowed. "Is 'Lectra alright?"
"I…" The youngest E sister looked unsure. "I don't know if I should say…"
I gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can tell me, Encounter."
She sighed. "Electra was 'aving nightmares last night. I had to wake 'er up several times. Whatever 'appened on Tulagi really 'urt 'er." She glanced at her targets. "I don't want that to 'appen to me."
"Oh." What more could I say? I wanted to promise she wouldn't have to, but I knew we very well may. "What about you? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She replied. "You?"
I chuckled. It was just like her to worry about everyone else. "A bit bored. I expect the Nips will make a run at us soon."
She nodded, "We'll stop 'em."
I nodded, "We will. We will."
SEPTEMBER 12 1942
D+2
0210 HOURS
"General quarters! General quarters!"
I snapped awake, already climbing from my tent as I came to full awareness. It was truly amazing how quickly a SHIP could go from asleep to fully functional, I mused. All it took was my XO calling general quarters.
"Talk to me, XO."
What followed was a quick string of 'Oi's as Commander McMullian explained why I'd been so rudely awoken, all while I briefly pulled and put away my rigging to get dressed quickly. It seemed what had awoken me had also gotten everyone else up, as they all began to emerge from their tents in the dark.
Finally my fairy finished. "Bugger." I turned to my girls, all fully awake.
"You heard the message, let's go!"
As I've said before, normally when I have a section in this book written by someone else, I've gone and asked them specifically to write down their recollections. In this case however, the following is an excerpt from Hobart's book, Waltzing Leander.
0150 HOURS
God I was tired. You may think as a spirit who didn't need sleep I would be immune to such things, but half of a ship is her crew. And my crew had been run ragged the last two days covering the landings. They were exhausted, and therefore, so was I.
Externally, not much had changed. Us six cruisers were still sailing our triangular pattern just east of Savo, ready to pounce on any contacts the radars that 79 had set up on the island picked up. And thank god for that. With our early warning net, most of us were at condition two: half the crew at battle stations, half asleep.
As for me, I was on the bridge as the officer on watch. I would have preferred to be XO, or even Captain like Exeter, but being the third officer wasn't too bad. At this early hour my bridge was dimly lit by the red nighttime lights. The rest of the bridge crew were just as dreary eyes as me, clad in their helmets and vests.
The clinking of dishware drew my attention to the door, and one of my chef's mates stepped onto the bridge, carrying a tray full of steaming cups. "Coffee or tea, anyone?"
I couldn't help my tired smile. "You're the best Henrys." I said, happily grabbing a cup of coffee. I turned to the crew, "One by one boys. Stay vigilant."
Five minutes later, everyone was sipping a nice warm cup of Tea or Coffee. I let out a content sigh. It was quiet, the seas were calm. A good night for sailing. It was just a shame it was so dark. The moon was just a sliver in the clear sky.
Then the radio crackled. "Uhh, girls?" I recognized Canberra's voice immediately. "I've got intermittent radar contact, two-zero-zero. Bloody things been popping in and out the last few minutes."
Australia, our flagship, and Canberra's sister, soon replied. "Radar acting up sis?"
"Maybe?"
"Anyone else got that contact?" Aussie asked.
"Negative." That was Chicago.
"Nope." Quincy.
"Nothing here." San Francisco.
"Fuckall." I quipped.
"Roger." Aussie replied, "Standby."
A few moments passed, as the heavy cruiser no doubt conferred with Admiral Crutchley. Then, "Alright. Bagly, Patterson, go investigate, just in case. Everyone else-"
"Torpedo in the water! Two-zero-zero!" One of our eight destroyers yelled. I don't know which.
Either way, the call came far too late. Within a couple of seconds there was a blast, and a huge waterspout shot up beside one of our screening destroyers. I swore. "All ahead flank, hard to port! Sound general quarters!"
I'd barely finished speaking when more torpedoes found their mark. Just ahead of me, Canberra shook as three exploded against her side in quick succession. At the same time, my lookouts made me aware of Quincy and Frisco astern of me. There was a muffled detonation as Quincy took two fish, and Frisco one.
"Fucking hell!" Aussie roared. "Destroyers, fire starshells! Find those fucking nips! Formation turn to one-eight-zero, speed thirty knots!" Then, changing frequencies, "This is TF62, to all ships in the vicinity of Guadalcanal. We have been engaged by Japanese forces just east of Savo. Am engaging." And finally swapping back to our frequency. "Is everyone alright?"
"Dumb question sis." Canberra coughed. "No power, dead in the water, extreme uncontrollable flooding. I've already advised the crew to abandon ship."
"Fuck!"
Despite Aussie's outburst, Quincy soon reported as well. "I'm dead in the water, heavy flooding. I think we can control it though."
Frisco's chipper voice was completely at odds with everyone else's seriousness. "My bow is gone!"
"...What?" Australia muttered, sounding flabbergasted.
"My bow is gone." The cruiser reiterated, "I'm down to eighteen knots. Disengaging."
"Fuck." Aussie cursed again. She seemed to be about to speak again when the destroyer's star shells burst to the south. "Fire at will!" Aussie barked. My directors immediately went to work on the silhouetted ships.
And finally Captain Showers arrived on the bridge. "Sir." I quickly spun to give a report. "Canberra, Quincy and Frisco have been struck by a surprise torpedo attack, as were two destroyers." I pointed out the bridge windows. "We've spotted the Japanese and have been ordered to engage."
"Continue then. Lieutenant Commander Leander has the con."
I blinked. He wanted me to continue? Well alright then. Just as I turned back to take command, the Japs guns flashed. I grimaced.
"Stay in formation behind Australia." I ordered. Then activating the talkers mic around my neck, "Gunnery, target the second enemy ship in line. Fire at will."
My gunnery crews were way ahead of me. A split second later, the salvo buzzer rang, and at seven thousand yards, I opened fire.
BANG
From there, everything seemed to happen extremely quickly. My two forward turrets fired as I followed Aussie through a turn to port, putting the Japs on our starboard broadside. With Canberra, Quincy and Frisco out of the fight, that left our battleline at just Aussie, Me, and Chicago, with six remaining destroyers.
Just from a glance I could tell we were outnumbered. Under the star shells' light I could make out at least a dozen enemy ships. At least three of which I thought were cruisers.
Star shells burst above us, and several salvos splashed around Aussie. A moment later my secondaries opened up. Followed immediately by my first full boardside.
"62, this is 79," Our radios sounded. "We're on the water headed your way. Status?"
"Status? We're in the fucking shit Wales!" Aussie retorted. ""Berra, Quincy and Frisco are out of the fight and-" She cut out for a second as a pair of shells struck her. "Agh, bloody oath. Just get your fat gob out here and help us Wales!"
"Understood." The ever calm Brit replied. "Seven-niner opening fire."
The range was slowly closing as we traded fire with the Japs. But with their now superior numbers, that meant Aussie was getting pasted. Shell after shell began to strike her as they very quickly found the range.
I'd just scored my first two hits of the battle when huge splashes erupted among the Japs. A moment later there were distant flashes of guns as our two local KGV's fired again. No doubt my sister, Perth, was with them. Though I wanted to, I didn't have time to cheer our newly arrived help. Three shells struck me in quick succession. One demolished one of my 4.7-inchers, While the other two detonated aft of my funnel, starting a small fire.
I was about to give orders to my damcon teams, but they already seemed to be on it, so instead I focused back on the fight. My gunners had found the range, and were pelting the 2nd Jap cruiser in line as quickly as they could load my main guns.
The next salvo from Prince of Wales and Howe came screaming in moments later, one salvo going long while the other straddled the lead cruiser.
And then Bagly, one of our screening destroyers, yelled again.
"Torpedoes in the water!"
"Turn away!" Aussie roared, even as I gave my own helmsman the same order…
TF62 was getting plastered. I didn't know what had happened, but the Nips had seemingly managed to ambush them, and now we were late to the party.
But, luckily for us, and unluckily for the Japs, Savo sound was a small patch of water. Five minutes off the beach, and we'd opened fire on the well lit enemy fleet. Both Howe and I had engaged the lead ship, which I'd identified as a Kongo playing flagship to what appeared to be a cruiser division.
We'd both quickly found the range and after three salvos, whoever was commanding the Japanese fleet had realized he had two very angry fast battleships bearing down on him. But before they turned away, they'd left 62 a parting gift.
I couldn't tell very well from twenty thousand yards away, but Australia had taken at least one torpedo. As had another destroyer.
I'd had 79 turn to pursue, but after twenty minutes the Japs had opened the range, and I'd decided to double back to help rescue survivors.
We were just coming back around when Perth cued the radio, a worried tone in her voice. "Hobart?"
Luckily the suspense didn't hang long. "Oi sis. I'm alright, just a bit banged up. Aussie, 'Berra?"
"I'm still bloody floating." Australia immediately complained, "But I'm gonna need a tow. Someone help a mate out?"
"I'm still here." The younger of the two heavy cruisers spoke up. "Hey Perth? Is being a SHIP always this weird?"
I glanced back to see Perth just blinked and shrugged in the dim light, "No clue what you're on about mate."
"Oh whatever." You could hear the other Aussie rolling her eyes. "Just get over here and get my boys outta the water."
As we began pulling men from the water, I couldn't help but shake my head. Why was it we always had to pay a price in blood to stop the Japs?
AN: Hey look, Slash went nuts with Photoshop again when brainstorming the battle XD
Chapter 45: The First Battle of Savo Island
The night of September 11-12, 1942, would be our first taste of what the Guadalcanal campaign would bring. In my experience, there are two types of surface engagements: those that last less than half an hour, and those that don't. Any battle that lasts longer than half an hour is generally indecisive. A slog that accomplishes very little, beyond sending a great many ships to the yards for repairs. Those that do end in thirty minutes, do so because one side has utterly knackered the other. First Savo was one such battle.
SEPTEMBER 11 1942
D+1
1000 HOURS
The morning after the landings was quiet. I'd slept like a rock, and even taken the opportunity to sleep in a bit, getting up at oh-nine-hundred. I'd got dressed, ate my morning rations, and once more settled into the hammock I'd slung near our tents.
Funnily enough, within ten minutes, Howe had shown up, taken one glance at me, and then decided to mimic me, slinging her own hammock a few yards away. When I glanced over a minute later she'd pulled out a book.
I settled down after that, just relaxing in my hammock. There was literally nothing to do, until we were called. Between aerial reconnaissance, and our radars on Savo, there was no way the Japanese could get anywhere near us without being spotted. And with the addition of our fairy Marines, the four Clemson DDAs now under his command with their fairy marine platoons and ridiculous number of Oerlikons and machine guns (Whoever had come up with their new designation of Amphibious Assault Destroyers needed to be shot), and lack of Japanese troops on the island, I doubted General Vandegrift would need our firepower anytime soon.
So, all we could do was wait.
"Huh." I muttered in realisation.
Howe heard me, and glanced over. "Wales?"
"Nothing important." I waved her off. "I just realised this is what it must've been like for the pilots back during the Battle of Britain. Sitting around, waiting for the call."
"Oh. Probably." My sister replied. "We even have the same tension."
I blinked. Tension? I didn't feel tense. I glanced over at my sister. "Are you nervous, sis?"
She just looked right back at me. "And you're not?"
"Uh, no?" I shrugged. "We know the Nips are coming at some point. Just a case of waiting until then."
My sister blinked. "But… We're going to be attacked. I thought you said you were terrified during battle."
"Oh, I always am." I replied, "And right bloody nervous in the lead up. But they're not here yet, and we're not about to go into battle. No use fretting until then."
"How can you be so blase?"
I shrugged. "Comes with experience, I think."
"Oh." My sister muttered, thinking about what I said. She opened her mouth to speak again…
Only to be cut off by the wail of the airfield's air raid siren.
I just laid in my hammock a moment longer. "Oh, bother." With a sigh, I climbed out of my hammock, opening a radio channel to our radars on Savo. "Eagle Eye, Wales. What have we got?"
It took a few seconds for the Marine operating the air search radar back on Savo to reply, busy as he no doubt was alerting all commands, and preparing to vector the newly named Henderson Field's F4Fs onto the bombers. "Oi, Oioi Oi. Oioi-oi oioi, oi oi oioi oioi. Oioi oioi."
"Copy, out." I turned to Howe, "Level bombers. We'll be safer at sea."
The two of us set out at a jog for the nearby beach. The roar of aero engines starting coming from the airstrip at our backs. I hit my radio again as we ran. "Seven-niner, Wales. Incoming aircraft are level bombers at angels fifteen. Head for the beach, we'll be safer at sea."
I was correct. The bombers had been loaded with bombs, and sent to target the airfield. Even with all the transports still unloading, and the additional juicy targets we presented, they went straight for the airstrip.
What they hadn't counted on, was VMF-112, a Marine squadron flying Wildcats, who'd flown into Henderson the evening before. We'd managed a quick and dirty set up to allow the fairies operating the air search set on Savo to act as fighter control, and guide the Marine fighters onto target.
While not perfect, it had functioned. The CAP had broken up the twenty plane raid, and the rest of the scrambling F4Fs had torn into the unescorted Bettys. Only a single stick of bombs had landed on Henderson, while the rest fell into the surrounding jungle and fields.
For our part, us SHIPs had spent the raid sailing in circles just off the beach, and taking some pot shots with our heavy guns for the brief period that the bombers were in range. None of us hit anything. The moment all the bombs had fallen, I led us ashore again.
It was amazing how quickly everything went back to normal. Ten minutes later I was back in my hammock.
I managed to doze away the next few hours in the tropical heat, clad in nothing but my bra and uniform shorts. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the tropics?
I awoke to the sound of a gunshot.
For a moment, I thought I may have imagined it. Just before I closed my eyes, another shot rang out.
Curious, I climbed from the hammock, and threw on my white T-shirt. Another shot. It sounded like it was coming from the beach.
Four more shots sounded before I finished making my way through the palm grove. As I emerged onto the beach, I spotted the source: Encounter was crouched at the tree line, a Lee Enfeild in hand, aimed at several wood sticks set in the sand near the water.
As I watched, she let off a shot, which missed and splashed into the water. She quickly cycled the bolt, and her next shot splintered a stick.
As I approached I couldn't help but find some amusement in how comical the long rifle looked in her young hands. If she didn't have the extra strength being a SHIP granted her, I doubted she'd be able to hold the heavy gun steady.
But it also made her new height apparent. It wasn't much, but the E's had all put on two inches in the last six months since their hulls had sunk.
"Encounter?"
The destroyer didn't look up, instead pulling the trigger and reducing another stick to splinters. Satisfied, she racked the bolt several times, ejecting the remaining bullets and safeing the gun, and turning to me. "Hey Wales. Need something?"
I shook my head. "Just heard you shooting. Getting some practice?"
The pink haired destroyer nodded, "Yeah. After Electra… Uh…" He paused, and changed tack, "Well, I figured I'll need to use it eventually."
My brow furrowed. "Is 'Lectra alright?"
"I…" The youngest E sister looked unsure. "I don't know if I should say…"
I gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can tell me, Encounter."
She sighed. "Electra was 'aving nightmares last night. I had to wake 'er up several times. Whatever 'appened on Tulagi really 'urt 'er." She glanced at her targets. "I don't want that to 'appen to me."
"Oh." What more could I say? I wanted to promise she wouldn't have to, but I knew we very well may. "What about you? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She replied. "You?"
I chuckled. It was just like her to worry about everyone else. "A bit bored. I expect the Nips will make a run at us soon."
She nodded, "We'll stop 'em."
I nodded, "We will. We will."
SEPTEMBER 12 1942
D+2
0210 HOURS
"General quarters! General quarters!"
I snapped awake, already climbing from my tent as I came to full awareness. It was truly amazing how quickly a SHIP could go from asleep to fully functional, I mused. All it took was my XO calling general quarters.
"Talk to me, XO."
What followed was a quick string of 'Oi's as Commander McMullian explained why I'd been so rudely awoken, all while I briefly pulled and put away my rigging to get dressed quickly. It seemed what had awoken me had also gotten everyone else up, as they all began to emerge from their tents in the dark.
Finally my fairy finished. "Bugger." I turned to my girls, all fully awake.
"You heard the message, let's go!"
As I've said before, normally when I have a section in this book written by someone else, I've gone and asked them specifically to write down their recollections. In this case however, the following is an excerpt from Hobart's book, Waltzing Leander.
0150 HOURS
God I was tired. You may think as a spirit who didn't need sleep I would be immune to such things, but half of a ship is her crew. And my crew had been run ragged the last two days covering the landings. They were exhausted, and therefore, so was I.
Externally, not much had changed. Us six cruisers were still sailing our triangular pattern just east of Savo, ready to pounce on any contacts the radars that 79 had set up on the island picked up. And thank god for that. With our early warning net, most of us were at condition two: half the crew at battle stations, half asleep.
As for me, I was on the bridge as the officer on watch. I would have preferred to be XO, or even Captain like Exeter, but being the third officer wasn't too bad. At this early hour my bridge was dimly lit by the red nighttime lights. The rest of the bridge crew were just as dreary eyes as me, clad in their helmets and vests.
The clinking of dishware drew my attention to the door, and one of my chef's mates stepped onto the bridge, carrying a tray full of steaming cups. "Coffee or tea, anyone?"
I couldn't help my tired smile. "You're the best Henrys." I said, happily grabbing a cup of coffee. I turned to the crew, "One by one boys. Stay vigilant."
Five minutes later, everyone was sipping a nice warm cup of Tea or Coffee. I let out a content sigh. It was quiet, the seas were calm. A good night for sailing. It was just a shame it was so dark. The moon was just a sliver in the clear sky.
Then the radio crackled. "Uhh, girls?" I recognized Canberra's voice immediately. "I've got intermittent radar contact, two-zero-zero. Bloody things been popping in and out the last few minutes."
Australia, our flagship, and Canberra's sister, soon replied. "Radar acting up sis?"
"Maybe?"
"Anyone else got that contact?" Aussie asked.
"Negative." That was Chicago.
"Nope." Quincy.
"Nothing here." San Francisco.
"Fuckall." I quipped.
"Roger." Aussie replied, "Standby."
A few moments passed, as the heavy cruiser no doubt conferred with Admiral Crutchley. Then, "Alright. Bagly, Patterson, go investigate, just in case. Everyone else-"
"Torpedo in the water! Two-zero-zero!" One of our eight destroyers yelled. I don't know which.
Either way, the call came far too late. Within a couple of seconds there was a blast, and a huge waterspout shot up beside one of our screening destroyers. I swore. "All ahead flank, hard to port! Sound general quarters!"
I'd barely finished speaking when more torpedoes found their mark. Just ahead of me, Canberra shook as three exploded against her side in quick succession. At the same time, my lookouts made me aware of Quincy and Frisco astern of me. There was a muffled detonation as Quincy took two fish, and Frisco one.
"Fucking hell!" Aussie roared. "Destroyers, fire starshells! Find those fucking nips! Formation turn to one-eight-zero, speed thirty knots!" Then, changing frequencies, "This is TF62, to all ships in the vicinity of Guadalcanal. We have been engaged by Japanese forces just east of Savo. Am engaging." And finally swapping back to our frequency. "Is everyone alright?"
"Dumb question sis." Canberra coughed. "No power, dead in the water, extreme uncontrollable flooding. I've already advised the crew to abandon ship."
"Fuck!"
Despite Aussie's outburst, Quincy soon reported as well. "I'm dead in the water, heavy flooding. I think we can control it though."
Frisco's chipper voice was completely at odds with everyone else's seriousness. "My bow is gone!"
"...What?" Australia muttered, sounding flabbergasted.
"My bow is gone." The cruiser reiterated, "I'm down to eighteen knots. Disengaging."
"Fuck." Aussie cursed again. She seemed to be about to speak again when the destroyer's star shells burst to the south. "Fire at will!" Aussie barked. My directors immediately went to work on the silhouetted ships.
And finally Captain Showers arrived on the bridge. "Sir." I quickly spun to give a report. "Canberra, Quincy and Frisco have been struck by a surprise torpedo attack, as were two destroyers." I pointed out the bridge windows. "We've spotted the Japanese and have been ordered to engage."
"Continue then. Lieutenant Commander Leander has the con."
I blinked. He wanted me to continue? Well alright then. Just as I turned back to take command, the Japs guns flashed. I grimaced.
"Stay in formation behind Australia." I ordered. Then activating the talkers mic around my neck, "Gunnery, target the second enemy ship in line. Fire at will."
My gunnery crews were way ahead of me. A split second later, the salvo buzzer rang, and at seven thousand yards, I opened fire.
BANG
From there, everything seemed to happen extremely quickly. My two forward turrets fired as I followed Aussie through a turn to port, putting the Japs on our starboard broadside. With Canberra, Quincy and Frisco out of the fight, that left our battleline at just Aussie, Me, and Chicago, with six remaining destroyers.
Just from a glance I could tell we were outnumbered. Under the star shells' light I could make out at least a dozen enemy ships. At least three of which I thought were cruisers.
Star shells burst above us, and several salvos splashed around Aussie. A moment later my secondaries opened up. Followed immediately by my first full boardside.
"62, this is 79," Our radios sounded. "We're on the water headed your way. Status?"
"Status? We're in the fucking shit Wales!" Aussie retorted. ""Berra, Quincy and Frisco are out of the fight and-" She cut out for a second as a pair of shells struck her. "Agh, bloody oath. Just get your fat gob out here and help us Wales!"
"Understood." The ever calm Brit replied. "Seven-niner opening fire."
The range was slowly closing as we traded fire with the Japs. But with their now superior numbers, that meant Aussie was getting pasted. Shell after shell began to strike her as they very quickly found the range.
I'd just scored my first two hits of the battle when huge splashes erupted among the Japs. A moment later there were distant flashes of guns as our two local KGV's fired again. No doubt my sister, Perth, was with them. Though I wanted to, I didn't have time to cheer our newly arrived help. Three shells struck me in quick succession. One demolished one of my 4.7-inchers, While the other two detonated aft of my funnel, starting a small fire.
I was about to give orders to my damcon teams, but they already seemed to be on it, so instead I focused back on the fight. My gunners had found the range, and were pelting the 2nd Jap cruiser in line as quickly as they could load my main guns.
The next salvo from Prince of Wales and Howe came screaming in moments later, one salvo going long while the other straddled the lead cruiser.
And then Bagly, one of our screening destroyers, yelled again.
"Torpedoes in the water!"
"Turn away!" Aussie roared, even as I gave my own helmsman the same order…
TF62 was getting plastered. I didn't know what had happened, but the Nips had seemingly managed to ambush them, and now we were late to the party.
But, luckily for us, and unluckily for the Japs, Savo sound was a small patch of water. Five minutes off the beach, and we'd opened fire on the well lit enemy fleet. Both Howe and I had engaged the lead ship, which I'd identified as a Kongo playing flagship to what appeared to be a cruiser division.
We'd both quickly found the range and after three salvos, whoever was commanding the Japanese fleet had realized he had two very angry fast battleships bearing down on him. But before they turned away, they'd left 62 a parting gift.
I couldn't tell very well from twenty thousand yards away, but Australia had taken at least one torpedo. As had another destroyer.
I'd had 79 turn to pursue, but after twenty minutes the Japs had opened the range, and I'd decided to double back to help rescue survivors.
We were just coming back around when Perth cued the radio, a worried tone in her voice. "Hobart?"
Luckily the suspense didn't hang long. "Oi sis. I'm alright, just a bit banged up. Aussie, 'Berra?"
"I'm still bloody floating." Australia immediately complained, "But I'm gonna need a tow. Someone help a mate out?"
"I'm still here." The younger of the two heavy cruisers spoke up. "Hey Perth? Is being a SHIP always this weird?"
I glanced back to see Perth just blinked and shrugged in the dim light, "No clue what you're on about mate."
"Oh whatever." You could hear the other Aussie rolling her eyes. "Just get over here and get my boys outta the water."
As we began pulling men from the water, I couldn't help but shake my head. Why was it we always had to pay a price in blood to stop the Japs?
AN: Hey look, Slash went nuts with Photoshop again when brainstorming the battle XD
If anyone wanted to know what happened at Savo Island originally, here's Drachinefiel's Guadalcanal Playlist.
View: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMK9a-vDE5zGRthqKrcdizbIrKc-9MQFk
View: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMK9a-vDE5zGRthqKrcdizbIrKc-9MQFk
Meanwhile at IJN Command:
Officer 1: Rabaul says the phantom battleships are back and our ships have the damage to prove it.
Yamamoto: Gods-damnit. Send Everything!
Officer 2: Everything?
Yamamoto: EVERYTHING!!!
Officer 1: Rabaul says the phantom battleships are back and our ships have the damage to prove it.
Yamamoto: Gods-damnit. Send Everything!
Officer 2: Everything?
Yamamoto: EVERYTHING!!!
Chapter 46: Lessons
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 46: Lessons
The first Battle of Savo Island continued our string of 'tactical defeats but strategic victories' that had started at Coral Sea. Three heavy cruisers, Australia, Canberra and Quincy, went to the bottom, for no Japanese loss, bar some damage to their cruisers. But once more, the IJN failed to complete their objective: attacking the transports. Still, such attrition did not do Allied Morale much good. We needed to do better in the coming battles.
SEPTEMBER 12 1942
D+2
0914 HOURS
It'd been a long night, between the fighting, after battle SAR, and patrolling in case the Nips came back. It wouldn't be until the light began to break over the western horizon that I led the girls back ashore inside the Guadalcanal perimeter.
The moment my rigging came off, the exhaustion hit me like a truck. The debrief could wait, I needed a nap, as did everyone else. And so, back into our tents for a few hours we went.
"-les. Wales."
I gently stirred awake to the feeling of someone all but beating my foot a few hours later. I groggily sat up, wiping sleep from my eyes to see Houston leaning in the tent flap. "Fuck, Wales. Why are you so damn hard to wake up?"
I yawned. "Sorry Hou. What is it?"
"Australia and Canberra are here to see you." The Texan reported.
I blinked, "Oh. Let me get dressed, I'll be out in a moment."
Once my XO had backed out I quickly dug out my white T-shirt and shorts, and did my best to smooth my unkempt bedhead, to little success. Oh well, we were in a combat zone. It wasn't as if I needed to look my best.
I finally emerged from my tent to see two brunettes waiting for me. I had only met Australia and Canberra in passing, but the two had a distinctive look. After all, ship spirit twins were just as rare as normal human twins, and I only knew of two pairs: Kay and I, and Aussie and Canberra.
And much like Kay and I, the two Australian sisters wore both their hair and clothes differently. They both had brown hair that transitioned to sun bleached blond at the tips, and the same blue eyes set in the same face. But Aussie wore a khaki T-shirt and shorts and slouch hat with the obligatory one side turned up, her hair sticking out the back in a ponytail. For her part, Canberra wore a dark blue, almost grey, form fitting buttoned shirt under a small unbuttoned jacket, with a white skirt.
Behind them I could see the brunette Quincy in her white and blue shirt and green skirt, along with a pair of American DDs who were happily chatting with Sims and Andie.
"Morning, Aussie. Canberra." I said, straightening up and stretching. "You wanted to see me?"
Aussie, the elder of the two, was the one to speak. "Morning Wales. Sleep well mate?"
I shrugged, "As well as I could. So, what can I do for you?"
The heavy cruiser smirked. "Just reporting in, 'Captain Windsor.' We've been put under your command for a few days, pending our next orders."
"Oh." I muttered, "Well, I wont say no to more firepower." I glanced behind them at Quincy and the destroyers. "Are the Yanks joining us as well?"
The twins both nodded. "Yup." Said Canberra, popping the 'P'.
"Alright." I spoke, glancing around. It seemed the rest of TF79 was already up. Perth and my little sister were brushing their teeth by the burned out firepit, Houston was standing nearby listening to us, Boise was reading a book, and the destroyers were having some breakfast.
"We still need to debrief after last night. Houston? Get everyone around the firepit in ten. I'm going to get breakfast."
"Yes ma'am."
The first half of the debrief was as standard as ever. We all sat around the firepit, and went over the whole engagement, piercing together just what happened. Australia, Canberra and Quincy's input was invaluable in revealing what had happened to TF62.
"So." I started after Quincy had finished her recollections. "The way I see it, there are two major issues that buggered us here: The Savo radars failing to pick the Japs up, and 79 being too far away to intercept. Thoughts?"
Bagley, one of the newly sunk American destroyers, raised her hand. "I also noticed the Jap torpedoes were wakeless."
Everyone's eyes landed on her. Houston gave voice to what we were all thinking. "What?"
"You're sure?" Aussie asked.
Bagley nodded. "Definitely."
Encounter put a hand to her chin. "Are they using Electric torpedoes?"
"No way in hell." Patterson, one of the other newly sunk DDs, said. "They came in way too fast to be electric."
"How fast did they come in?" Jupiter asked.
The American wiggled her hand in a 'so-so' gesture, "Forty-five, maybe fifty knots?"
Houston let out an impressed whistle. "That's a fast torpedo. Must have shit range at that speed."
That got a round off agreement. After all, the American destroyers' Mark 15 torpedoes could do that speed, but with a mere four thousand yard range. It stood to reason the Japanese torpedoes performed similarly. Right?
"We'll have to keep that in mind." I spoke, "Turning to the radar issue, how have you all fared with your onboard sets?"
My sister shyly raised her hand, seemingly uncomfortable around so many people. "Ummm. I uh… I noticed that the islands interfere with returns."
Perth nodded. "Deffo. The radar reflections off the islands make picking up anyone between us and the island bloody hard."
"And here I was hoping it was only me." I said, getting a round of chuckles. "Alright. Perth, Boise, Jupiter and the E's: we'll head out and sail around Savo to let the fairy radar crews run some tests. We'll have to see if we can find any blindspots." The two cruisers and three destroyers nodded. I continued, "As for the response time issue, I believe the easiest solution would be to actively be patrolling off Savo each night."
"You sure Wales?" Houston spoke up, "We'll burn a lot of fuel doing that."
"...Oh right." Duh. Now I felt like an idiot.
"Why not sail out and spend the nights on Savo itself?" Howe butted in.
I spun to her. "How did I not think of that?"
"I think you mean, 'Howe didn't I think of that?'" Hammann jutted in with a shit eating grin.
Sims smacked her younger sister on the head, "No, bad."
"Ow."
I rolled my eyes. Destroyers being destroyers. I continued, "With the airfield operational, the Nips are going to have to keep coming at night. I want everyone to go nocturnal." That got a round of nods. "Anything to add?"
No one spoke, so I continued, "Good. Houston? Take the Sims and my sister and head over to the bunker to help the SeeBees."
"You got it boss."
"Alright, get to it everyone. Dismissed."
1034 HOURS
As usual it only took us an hour to reach Savo. It really wasn't that large, for an island, but certainly had a huge effect on how ships maneuvered and fought in Savo Sound.
I sent Perth with Express and Encounter to test the northern radar while I, Boise, Jupiter and Electra headed around the south side of the island.
"Alright," I spoke, once we'd arrived, "Jupiter?"
The blond J-class perked up. "Yes?"
I pointed at the island itself. "Work along the shore and get us a basic depth survey. We need to know how close to shore the Japs can get, that may be how they slipped past the radar. I also suspect Admiral Lee would much appreciate that data for his own battlewagons."
"You got it!" She gave a small salute, and peeled away to begin her work.
"And us, boss?" Boise asked.
"Stay in formation." I ordered. "We're going to do some passes through the strait so the fairies can see if the radar has any blind spots."
"Right."
And so, that was exactly what we did. I made sure to keep radio contact with my Marines operating the radar as we sailed back and forth, giving them something to read on their scope.
We'd been puttering around for nearly an hour, and I was finally starting to get bored, so I turned to Boise behind me. "Still writing that book?"
The Brooklyn jolted from whatever half asleep state she'd been in at my voice. "Wha?"
"I said, are you still writing that book?"
She grunted, "Yeah. Why?"
I shrugged, "Any tips? I think I may do a memoir of my own after all of this."
THe light cruiser perked up, "Oh, great! Well, uhhh, notes, make lots. You know how memory is. You Brits keep your own logs and journals like we do, right."
I gave a small laugh at the insinuation. "Of course. We started that tradition back in the seventeenth century, if I have my history right. You Yanks got it from us when you seceded, I believe."
"Wait really?"
I shrugged, "That's how the history books tell it."
She just looked confused, "We have history books?"
I blinked. "Yes? You know, that other spirits wrote? Have you never read any spirit written books?"
She made a so-so gesture, "A few. Mostly just stories though. I didn't even know there were nonfiction books."
"There are." I replied, "A great many in fact. Honestly, it's rather incredible how we have our own culture, going back through the centuries. Have you ever read Discovery of the New World?" Boise shook her head. I just stared at her, a bit surprised. "Really? Huh. Well, it's something of a memoir itself, written by Niña around 1500, one of the ships on Columbus' expedition.
Boise blinked, "Really? Where'd you find it?"
"Iron Duke had a copy back home." I replied, pulling out an old looking leather bound book. "A English translation from a hundred years ago of course. This is the copy she made for me. It's quite a read."
"Of course it is." Boise snarked, "Can you imagine being a ship back then? Made of wood and cloth sails?"
"Nope." I said with a shake of the head. "It would have been a brutal life I think. Columbus set out with three ships. Niña was the only one to return."
"Well, here's to being born in the modern age and made of steel."
I chuckled, "I'll drink to that. Have you read Albatross by the Ocean?"
"No?"
"It's a bloody good read." I began to explain, "The story is set in the 1850s. Its about a merchant ship, Albatross, who becomes visible to her crew, and ends up falling for her Captain. It ends with all spirits becoming visible. A bit prophetic, don't you think?"
"Yeah, just a hundred years late." She smirked, "Guess that means you're going to fall for Commodore Leach then, right?"
I just stared at her, deadpan. "Ok, firstly, fuck you. Secondly, fuck you. Thirdly, he's already married with a child, and fourthly, he's like a father to me, and the thought itself is disgusting… Oh and fifth," I flipped her off, "Fuck you."
The following is another excerpt from E-class Destroyer.
SEPTEMBER 13 1942
D+3
1102 HOURS
"'ey, Electra?"
I glanced over my shoulder at my sister, "Yeah, Ennie?"
Encounter just fidgeted, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Well, ye' wanna fly right?" She nodded, and I continued, "Well, this will make you fly."
We were both eyeing Houston. The heavy cruiser was sitting on the edge of the hole being dug for our bunker, taking a short break and a drink. Encounter had been enraptured by Wales' tales of flying in her last life, and wanted to do the same. But if we asked, I knew the answer would be no. So better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
I slowly stalked up behind Houston, as quietly as I could. Apparently I did something right, because she didn't react. I took one last step, and gingerly slid the miniature OS2U off her rigging's catapult.
No reaction. I turned, and slinked back to the bushes.
I had a huge grin as I showed Ennie the plane. "Tadaaaaaa!"
We ran down to the beach where Express was waiting. At the sight of the plane a huge grin split her face. "Awesome!"
I grinned back, "Told ya I could."
A moment later the miniature plane was in the water and growing to full size. I grinned, "Let's go flying!"
Hammocks were the best, I thought to myself as I half dozed between two trees. It'd been a couple hours since the debrief, and I was getting a bit more sleep. Howe was snoring nearby in her own hammock. That was at least something I shared with my little sister.
I was pulled from my half asleep state by the roar of an aeroengine. Blinking, I was able to see a plane slowly buzz past overhead. It must've been one of Henderson's new SBD's returning from patrol. With a yawn, I closed my eyes, and began to doze off again.
Only to be jolted back by the same plane passing by going the other way.
That was odd…
I sat up, and sure enough, a minute later the same plane zoomed past again at maybe three hundred feet. I squinted. That was a OS2U Kingfisher…
This time it was three minutes before the plane came back, and this time, I got a good look as it buzzed past. I was able to see the longhorn painted on the nose. That was one of Houston's.
I keyed my radio. "Houston."
"Yes Wales?"
"Why is your Kingfisher buzzing around?"
"What? My Kingfisher isn't flying around, it's right… Where the fuck is my plane!?"
"Did your fairies decide to go for a joyride?"
"I guess. I'll just reset my rigging."
As she said that, I spotted the plane coming around again. It was a few seconds from going overhead when it winked out of existence. Houston must've desummoned her rigging, the plane disappearing to whatever hammerspace rigging went to when we put it away.
That just left three falling dots… Who were yelling…
A few seconds later three screaming E-class destroyers slammed through the canopy around us, one of them smashing a coconut tree clean in two.
I sat stunned for a few moments before a hand emerged from under the fallen trunk, flashing a thumbs up. Electra's faint, "I'm okay!" reaching my ears.
For a moment, I just stared dumbfounded before everything clicked into place. They'd stolen Houston's plane, taken off, and buzzed around until we noticed. Then Houston had all but yanked the plane out from under them, sending them plummeting a hundred feet.
Hand, meet face. "Bloody destroyers."
The first Battle of Savo Island continued our string of 'tactical defeats but strategic victories' that had started at Coral Sea. Three heavy cruisers, Australia, Canberra and Quincy, went to the bottom, for no Japanese loss, bar some damage to their cruisers. But once more, the IJN failed to complete their objective: attacking the transports. Still, such attrition did not do Allied Morale much good. We needed to do better in the coming battles.
SEPTEMBER 12 1942
D+2
0914 HOURS
It'd been a long night, between the fighting, after battle SAR, and patrolling in case the Nips came back. It wouldn't be until the light began to break over the western horizon that I led the girls back ashore inside the Guadalcanal perimeter.
The moment my rigging came off, the exhaustion hit me like a truck. The debrief could wait, I needed a nap, as did everyone else. And so, back into our tents for a few hours we went.
"-les. Wales."
I gently stirred awake to the feeling of someone all but beating my foot a few hours later. I groggily sat up, wiping sleep from my eyes to see Houston leaning in the tent flap. "Fuck, Wales. Why are you so damn hard to wake up?"
I yawned. "Sorry Hou. What is it?"
"Australia and Canberra are here to see you." The Texan reported.
I blinked, "Oh. Let me get dressed, I'll be out in a moment."
Once my XO had backed out I quickly dug out my white T-shirt and shorts, and did my best to smooth my unkempt bedhead, to little success. Oh well, we were in a combat zone. It wasn't as if I needed to look my best.
I finally emerged from my tent to see two brunettes waiting for me. I had only met Australia and Canberra in passing, but the two had a distinctive look. After all, ship spirit twins were just as rare as normal human twins, and I only knew of two pairs: Kay and I, and Aussie and Canberra.
And much like Kay and I, the two Australian sisters wore both their hair and clothes differently. They both had brown hair that transitioned to sun bleached blond at the tips, and the same blue eyes set in the same face. But Aussie wore a khaki T-shirt and shorts and slouch hat with the obligatory one side turned up, her hair sticking out the back in a ponytail. For her part, Canberra wore a dark blue, almost grey, form fitting buttoned shirt under a small unbuttoned jacket, with a white skirt.
Behind them I could see the brunette Quincy in her white and blue shirt and green skirt, along with a pair of American DDs who were happily chatting with Sims and Andie.
"Morning, Aussie. Canberra." I said, straightening up and stretching. "You wanted to see me?"
Aussie, the elder of the two, was the one to speak. "Morning Wales. Sleep well mate?"
I shrugged, "As well as I could. So, what can I do for you?"
The heavy cruiser smirked. "Just reporting in, 'Captain Windsor.' We've been put under your command for a few days, pending our next orders."
"Oh." I muttered, "Well, I wont say no to more firepower." I glanced behind them at Quincy and the destroyers. "Are the Yanks joining us as well?"
The twins both nodded. "Yup." Said Canberra, popping the 'P'.
"Alright." I spoke, glancing around. It seemed the rest of TF79 was already up. Perth and my little sister were brushing their teeth by the burned out firepit, Houston was standing nearby listening to us, Boise was reading a book, and the destroyers were having some breakfast.
"We still need to debrief after last night. Houston? Get everyone around the firepit in ten. I'm going to get breakfast."
"Yes ma'am."
The first half of the debrief was as standard as ever. We all sat around the firepit, and went over the whole engagement, piercing together just what happened. Australia, Canberra and Quincy's input was invaluable in revealing what had happened to TF62.
"So." I started after Quincy had finished her recollections. "The way I see it, there are two major issues that buggered us here: The Savo radars failing to pick the Japs up, and 79 being too far away to intercept. Thoughts?"
Bagley, one of the newly sunk American destroyers, raised her hand. "I also noticed the Jap torpedoes were wakeless."
Everyone's eyes landed on her. Houston gave voice to what we were all thinking. "What?"
"You're sure?" Aussie asked.
Bagley nodded. "Definitely."
Encounter put a hand to her chin. "Are they using Electric torpedoes?"
"No way in hell." Patterson, one of the other newly sunk DDs, said. "They came in way too fast to be electric."
"How fast did they come in?" Jupiter asked.
The American wiggled her hand in a 'so-so' gesture, "Forty-five, maybe fifty knots?"
Houston let out an impressed whistle. "That's a fast torpedo. Must have shit range at that speed."
That got a round off agreement. After all, the American destroyers' Mark 15 torpedoes could do that speed, but with a mere four thousand yard range. It stood to reason the Japanese torpedoes performed similarly. Right?
"We'll have to keep that in mind." I spoke, "Turning to the radar issue, how have you all fared with your onboard sets?"
My sister shyly raised her hand, seemingly uncomfortable around so many people. "Ummm. I uh… I noticed that the islands interfere with returns."
Perth nodded. "Deffo. The radar reflections off the islands make picking up anyone between us and the island bloody hard."
"And here I was hoping it was only me." I said, getting a round of chuckles. "Alright. Perth, Boise, Jupiter and the E's: we'll head out and sail around Savo to let the fairy radar crews run some tests. We'll have to see if we can find any blindspots." The two cruisers and three destroyers nodded. I continued, "As for the response time issue, I believe the easiest solution would be to actively be patrolling off Savo each night."
"You sure Wales?" Houston spoke up, "We'll burn a lot of fuel doing that."
"...Oh right." Duh. Now I felt like an idiot.
"Why not sail out and spend the nights on Savo itself?" Howe butted in.
I spun to her. "How did I not think of that?"
"I think you mean, 'Howe didn't I think of that?'" Hammann jutted in with a shit eating grin.
Sims smacked her younger sister on the head, "No, bad."
"Ow."
I rolled my eyes. Destroyers being destroyers. I continued, "With the airfield operational, the Nips are going to have to keep coming at night. I want everyone to go nocturnal." That got a round of nods. "Anything to add?"
No one spoke, so I continued, "Good. Houston? Take the Sims and my sister and head over to the bunker to help the SeeBees."
"You got it boss."
"Alright, get to it everyone. Dismissed."
1034 HOURS
As usual it only took us an hour to reach Savo. It really wasn't that large, for an island, but certainly had a huge effect on how ships maneuvered and fought in Savo Sound.
I sent Perth with Express and Encounter to test the northern radar while I, Boise, Jupiter and Electra headed around the south side of the island.
"Alright," I spoke, once we'd arrived, "Jupiter?"
The blond J-class perked up. "Yes?"
I pointed at the island itself. "Work along the shore and get us a basic depth survey. We need to know how close to shore the Japs can get, that may be how they slipped past the radar. I also suspect Admiral Lee would much appreciate that data for his own battlewagons."
"You got it!" She gave a small salute, and peeled away to begin her work.
"And us, boss?" Boise asked.
"Stay in formation." I ordered. "We're going to do some passes through the strait so the fairies can see if the radar has any blind spots."
"Right."
And so, that was exactly what we did. I made sure to keep radio contact with my Marines operating the radar as we sailed back and forth, giving them something to read on their scope.
We'd been puttering around for nearly an hour, and I was finally starting to get bored, so I turned to Boise behind me. "Still writing that book?"
The Brooklyn jolted from whatever half asleep state she'd been in at my voice. "Wha?"
"I said, are you still writing that book?"
She grunted, "Yeah. Why?"
I shrugged, "Any tips? I think I may do a memoir of my own after all of this."
THe light cruiser perked up, "Oh, great! Well, uhhh, notes, make lots. You know how memory is. You Brits keep your own logs and journals like we do, right."
I gave a small laugh at the insinuation. "Of course. We started that tradition back in the seventeenth century, if I have my history right. You Yanks got it from us when you seceded, I believe."
"Wait really?"
I shrugged, "That's how the history books tell it."
She just looked confused, "We have history books?"
I blinked. "Yes? You know, that other spirits wrote? Have you never read any spirit written books?"
She made a so-so gesture, "A few. Mostly just stories though. I didn't even know there were nonfiction books."
"There are." I replied, "A great many in fact. Honestly, it's rather incredible how we have our own culture, going back through the centuries. Have you ever read Discovery of the New World?" Boise shook her head. I just stared at her, a bit surprised. "Really? Huh. Well, it's something of a memoir itself, written by Niña around 1500, one of the ships on Columbus' expedition.
Boise blinked, "Really? Where'd you find it?"
"Iron Duke had a copy back home." I replied, pulling out an old looking leather bound book. "A English translation from a hundred years ago of course. This is the copy she made for me. It's quite a read."
"Of course it is." Boise snarked, "Can you imagine being a ship back then? Made of wood and cloth sails?"
"Nope." I said with a shake of the head. "It would have been a brutal life I think. Columbus set out with three ships. Niña was the only one to return."
"Well, here's to being born in the modern age and made of steel."
I chuckled, "I'll drink to that. Have you read Albatross by the Ocean?"
"No?"
"It's a bloody good read." I began to explain, "The story is set in the 1850s. Its about a merchant ship, Albatross, who becomes visible to her crew, and ends up falling for her Captain. It ends with all spirits becoming visible. A bit prophetic, don't you think?"
"Yeah, just a hundred years late." She smirked, "Guess that means you're going to fall for Commodore Leach then, right?"
I just stared at her, deadpan. "Ok, firstly, fuck you. Secondly, fuck you. Thirdly, he's already married with a child, and fourthly, he's like a father to me, and the thought itself is disgusting… Oh and fifth," I flipped her off, "Fuck you."
The following is another excerpt from E-class Destroyer.
SEPTEMBER 13 1942
D+3
1102 HOURS
"'ey, Electra?"
I glanced over my shoulder at my sister, "Yeah, Ennie?"
Encounter just fidgeted, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Well, ye' wanna fly right?" She nodded, and I continued, "Well, this will make you fly."
We were both eyeing Houston. The heavy cruiser was sitting on the edge of the hole being dug for our bunker, taking a short break and a drink. Encounter had been enraptured by Wales' tales of flying in her last life, and wanted to do the same. But if we asked, I knew the answer would be no. So better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
I slowly stalked up behind Houston, as quietly as I could. Apparently I did something right, because she didn't react. I took one last step, and gingerly slid the miniature OS2U off her rigging's catapult.
No reaction. I turned, and slinked back to the bushes.
I had a huge grin as I showed Ennie the plane. "Tadaaaaaa!"
We ran down to the beach where Express was waiting. At the sight of the plane a huge grin split her face. "Awesome!"
I grinned back, "Told ya I could."
A moment later the miniature plane was in the water and growing to full size. I grinned, "Let's go flying!"
Hammocks were the best, I thought to myself as I half dozed between two trees. It'd been a couple hours since the debrief, and I was getting a bit more sleep. Howe was snoring nearby in her own hammock. That was at least something I shared with my little sister.
I was pulled from my half asleep state by the roar of an aeroengine. Blinking, I was able to see a plane slowly buzz past overhead. It must've been one of Henderson's new SBD's returning from patrol. With a yawn, I closed my eyes, and began to doze off again.
Only to be jolted back by the same plane passing by going the other way.
That was odd…
I sat up, and sure enough, a minute later the same plane zoomed past again at maybe three hundred feet. I squinted. That was a OS2U Kingfisher…
This time it was three minutes before the plane came back, and this time, I got a good look as it buzzed past. I was able to see the longhorn painted on the nose. That was one of Houston's.
I keyed my radio. "Houston."
"Yes Wales?"
"Why is your Kingfisher buzzing around?"
"What? My Kingfisher isn't flying around, it's right… Where the fuck is my plane!?"
"Did your fairies decide to go for a joyride?"
"I guess. I'll just reset my rigging."
As she said that, I spotted the plane coming around again. It was a few seconds from going overhead when it winked out of existence. Houston must've desummoned her rigging, the plane disappearing to whatever hammerspace rigging went to when we put it away.
That just left three falling dots… Who were yelling…
A few seconds later three screaming E-class destroyers slammed through the canopy around us, one of them smashing a coconut tree clean in two.
I sat stunned for a few moments before a hand emerged from under the fallen trunk, flashing a thumbs up. Electra's faint, "I'm okay!" reaching my ears.
For a moment, I just stared dumbfounded before everything clicked into place. They'd stolen Houston's plane, taken off, and buzzed around until we noticed. Then Houston had all but yanked the plane out from under them, sending them plummeting a hundred feet.
Hand, meet face. "Bloody destroyers."
- Location
- Columbus, Ohio
That's going on the List if it's not already on there, lol!!!
Chapter 47: Consolidation
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 47: Consolidation
Destroyer stupidity aside, a short respite between the First and Second Battles of Savo Island. One quite got the feeling the IJN was recalibrating and preparing a further counterstroke. And, as history would tell, that was exactly what they were doing. Upon receiving Admiral Mikawa's (slightly inaccurate) report of sinking five heavy cruisers, Yamamoto came to the conclusion that Guadalcanal would serve well for their 'decisive battle'. For our part, we continued our preparations for the inevitable coming battles. Unfortunately for us, the fighting would be far fiercer than anything we expected.
SEPTEMBER 14 1942
D+4
0902 HOURS
It was after another long night on Savo that I found myself walking along the beach near our camp on Guadalcanal. It really was a beautiful region of the world, I mused, apart from the heat of course. It was a beautiful day that had dawned, and not a cloud was to be seen. The sea was a gorgeous clear blue, and the beach white sand, contrasted by the lush green of the jungle.
I suppose there's a reason paradise is often imagined as tropical.
I was just returning to our tents when the crack of a rifle drew my attention. Then a second shot. And a third.
Curious, I found myself walking further along the beach until I spotted Encounter crouched by the treeline with a Lee-Enfield in hand. As I approached, she fired again at several targets on sticks she had set up where the waves met sand.
"Ennie?"
The pink haired destroyer glanced up at the sound of my voice, And she quickly safed the rifle. "Oh, 'ey Wales."
"What are you doing?" I asked, coming to a stop beside her.
She gestured with the rifle to her makeshift targets. "What does it look like?"
"Why?"
She shrugged, "'As been on my mind since the girls came back from Tulagi. 'Lectra… She's been having nightmares." She paused, then smiled. "Or daymares I guess." She joked, to lighten the mood.
I was still concerned however. "Is she all right?"
"Oh, come on Wales, it's Electra." She shook her head, "Big sis is as tough as nails." She hefted the rifle. "I'm just making sure I'm ready too. Nips aren't getting me easily."
"I'm sure you'll be alright." I said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "The Nips will have to go through me before I'd let any of you get hurt."
She snorted, "Thanks, Wales."
We lapsed into silence for a minute before she spoke again. "'ow do you do it, Wales?"
"Do what?"
She vaguely gestured out into the sound at Savo. "Be so damn brave. If I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd call you fearless."
I couldn't help but remember a quote I vaguely remembered hearing somewhere. "'Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid.' I'd wager I'm just as terrified as the rest of you when the bloody shells start flying."
"What are you afraid of?" The destroyer asked.
I shrugged, "A lot of things. Death, being wounded, again. Making a bad call that loses us a battle or, heaven forbid, gets one of you girls sunk. You?"
Her eyes fell, "I don't want to die. There's so much I want to do after the war…"
"Like?" I prompted.
"I want to travel, and see the world now that I'm free of my hull. I want to try all the food and drinks, now that I can taste. I want to learn to drive, to cook well, to fall in love. Now that we're free of our hulls we can live! Truly live! And if I die…"
I chuckled, "Same as Iku then."
Her brow furrowed. "The Jap sub?"
"Yes. She said some of the exact same things."
"Oh."
I threw my hand over Ennie's shoulders. "Tell you what. After the war, we'll get everyone together who wants to, and sail around the world. We can stop wherever you want, see everything you want. Sound good?"
The destroyer's eyes may as well have been glowing. "Really?"
"Of course."
She beamed at me, "I'll hold you to that, Wales."
I smiled back. "I look forward to it." I stepped away and produced my tommy gun, "Now, I don't suppose you'd mind if I join you? I could use some shooting practice myself."
Ennie shrugged, "Sure."
With a nod, I loaded the submachine gun. I'd just brought it up to my shoulder when Ennie spoke again. "What the hell kind of tommy gun is that, Wales?"
I blinked, lowering the gun and cocking it to the side where I could examine it. She wasn't wrong. I didn't know enough off the cuff to recognize the exact model of Thompson. But it was one of four I had aboard. They weren't standard issue, but my Marines had… Acquired them while we were in New York. Whether that meant trading for them or outright theft, I didn't want to know. Of those four guns, the fairies had foisted one specific gun off on me as 'my small arm'. It was the same gun I'd used in the push from the beach to the airfield
'Vera' was carved on the left side of the stock, and the pistol grip was lavishly engraved. But most damningly, the wooden handguard had tally marks. A block of five, and two. Seven.
If this hadn't been a New York Gangster or Hitman's gun, I'd eat my officer's sword.
Finally, I turned back to Ennie. "I don't know, my Marines got it in New York."
"It looks like a gangster's gun." She remarked.
"I'm quite sure it is."
"Oh."
"Shall we?"
"Yeah, yeah."
And so we started shooting.
SEPTEMBER 15 1942
D+5
0207 HOURS
I was quickly learning I was not a night owl. Being nocturnal, at least for only a few days, was hard. It seemed I'd need another few weeks before my circadian rhythms would sort themselves out. There was also just something so calming about sitting beside a fire on a dark beach in the wee hours that was just so… calming.
Sat or laying in the sand around the fire was the rest of my girls. My little sister was cuddled up against my side, Sims was laying with her head in Houston's lap, Boise, Perth and Hammann were roasting marshmallows, Electra, Ennie, and Jup were playing poker. Only Anderson and Express were missing, as the two of them were out patrolling to make up for the newly discovered gaps in the radar.
As we'd discovered from the previous days' tests, the Japanese fleet had unwittingly slipped through a gap under the southern radar close into shore. Meanwhile the destroyers' sonar depth surveys had revealed the surprising depth of Savo sound. Savo island itself seemed to be a steep underwater peak. A mere few hundred yards from shore the sea floor planged to over four hundred fathoms (1 fathom is about six feet for non-nautical readers). In fact, most of Savo Sound was four hundred feet plus, more than deep enough for even the heaviest ships. I'd already begun writing up a report to send up the chain, though I still assigned a different pair of destroyers each day to continue expanding the surveys.
Honestly, despite the First Battle of Savo, things had gone well so far. Enterprise had withdrawn on D+2 as planned once the marine fighters had arrived at Henderson, and the transports were scheduled to finish unloading today at 2000.
Honestly, it was all going too well. And I was too cynical by now to not expect the worst. War really was hell.
As I stared glassy eyed into the fire, I couldn't help but realise how crap this second life of mine had been. I'd virtually known nothing but war, barring those first few months of my new life that I could barely remember now. I'd never had any real freedom to go off and do as I liked, and I'd spent the last year and a half fighting, killing, being wounded, watching men and spirits I knew be killed, and even dying the once. When had I become such a perfect little toy soldier? Sometimes I really hated my damn overblown sense of duty. For that was really the only thing preventing me asking for a backline posting or discharge. But if I did that, I'd never forgive myself, especially now that that meant abandoning my girls. I doubted such a request would even be granted at this point anyway.
There were times when I really wished I could go back to my nice comfortable first life as a civvie.
But then my eyes landed on Howe, and I couldn't help the smile that filled my face at how adorable my sleeping sister was. It really wasn't all that bad though, was it? If I hadn't been granted this second chance, where would I have been? Heaven? Hell? Dead as a doornail? How lucky was I to have a second chance? And to have such wonderful sisters as Kay and Howe… I can't even describe how that felt. Those feelings of unconditional love that only those with siblings of their own could ever understand.
I glanced around at my fleet. My girls. My friends, and sisters-in-arms. I wouldn't have met any of them either. I counted Houston as a good friend, and the best second a flagship could ask for. She was the most dependable person I knew, always ready to back up and support me. Boise too, despite her sometimes immaturity. Perth was hard to befriend, but once you did, there was no one I'd rather have at my back. Jupiter… She was honestly almost like a daughter or little sister to me, always mature beyond what was expected of her, and an absolute sweetheart. Meanwhile Electra and Express were the rambunctious cousins, while Ennie was usually the responsible one. They caused me so much trouble, but I was coming to realise I wouldn't have the three E's any other way.
Even the three Sims, though I hadn't known them long. Sims was such a darling, and her cooking was to die for. Hammann was a little shit, but she was an endearing little shit. And Andie was just as good with her guitar and songwriting as she was with a five-inch gun.
And hell, I wouldn't have met John, who was more a father to me than the one I was born to a life ago. Or Repulse, always the cool aunt. Or the best mom a ship could ask for, Iron Duke. My first friend Dido. And everyone else I'd met along the way.
I wouldn't have gotten to leave Britain and see the world. I wouldn't have gotten to enjoy our pub crawls in Perth and Sydney. Nor feel the thrill of battle. Or the glorious feeling of speeding across the waves at flank speed. The thrill of firing guns bigger than I'd even known existed in my last life. I wouldn't have gotten to know what it was like to be a battleship, and all the good and bad that came with it.
And, in a way most importantly, I wouldn't have gotten to both live through and make history, fighting the greatest evil the world has ever known.
I smiled. War was hell. But even it had upsides.
0746 HOURS
The night had been quiet, with no sign of the IJN, and we returned to Henderson just after sunup. Sims and Jup had fired up the barbecue Perth had brought and, with the help of their fairies, cooked us all a large hearty dinner of steaks and grilled vegetables.
It was still weird to have dinner at just before eight in the morning, but that's how it went working night patrols.
"Thanks, you two." I said as Jup loaded my plate. No doubt I'd be back for seconds and thirds to replace the fuel I'd burnt going out to, and then back from, Savo. It was a short sail though, and the fuel drain was minuscule, so it was actually quite practical to refuel with food. Our two destroyer cooks had taken that into account and made enough food of course.
The J-class finished loading my plate with steak and vegetables. "No problem, Wales." She smiled as I took the plate. "It's fun!"
I took my time walking over to the fire pit we had near our tents, where everyone else was already eating. We had some logs to sit on, and someone had already relit the fire.
I sat down, and got to eating. And just as always, Sims' cooking was to die for. The steak was just perfect. I absolutely certainly did not stuff my face as quickly as I could chew. That would be crude.
I was most of the way through eating my first serving when my radio room began to pick up a morse message. In that moment, I shrugged, and kept eating. It was fifteen minutes later though, and in the middle of my second helping, that one of my radio fairies popped onto my shoulder with a 'oi' and a slip of paper.
"Oh, thank you." I said, taking the note. With a salute, he disappeared back aboard.
Now curious, I turned to the note:
FROM: COTF79
TO: FLAGTF79
WILL BE ARRIVING IN PERSON TOMORROW 0900 IN COMPANY WITH AMMO SHIP AND TANKER STOP CICPACFLEET SUSPECTS MAJOR IJN ACTION IMMINENT STOP LOOK FORWARD TO CATCHING UP
"Oh." It seemed John was coming in person. I hadn't expected that.
Houston, hawkeyed as ever, noticed my surprise from across the campfire. "Something up, Wales?"
I glanced up. "The Commodore's coming, along with his staff."
An amused smile crossed my 2nd's face, "Ah, the old man's gotten a bit action hungry has he? Sailed a desk for too long."
I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway. "Probably. Must've gone stir crazy being stuck back in Sydney."
"Heh." The cruiser chuckled. "Well, good officers do lead from the front."
SEPTEMBER 16 1942
D+6
0900 HOURS
Twenty-four hours later, Houston and I were standing on the beach as a small convoy anchored off shore and began offloading. Various boats and landing craft shuttled back and forth, delivering the ship's cargos ashore. One of the first ashore disgorged a small party of officers, who made their way up the beach towards us.
I saluted the leader once they stood before us. "Commodore Leach. Welcome to Guadalcanal."
John returned my salute with a small smile. "It's good to be here Captain Windsor." My former Captain looked around, "It's been far too long since I was anywhere near the front."
"Been stuck behind a desk too long, Sir?"
He nodded, "Something like that. So, where do you have camp set up?"
I gestured for them to follow us. "Right this way Sir."
As we began walking along the beach back towards the still-under-construction bunker and our camp, I took a moment to look over the men accompanying John. I recognized Lieutenant Anderson easily enough, but the other three were foreign to me. It seemed John had finally put together a command staff.
"So," John spoke, breaking me from my observation, "What's the situation been like?"
"Favorable." I replied. "We've lost two transports to air attack, and three others damaged, but the CAP has rapidly improved. Between the ships and Marine F4Fs, the last count was ten confirmed, two probables, and eighteen damaged, all Bettys, which we believe is most of Rabual's air strength. The strikes have tapered off which lends credence to that."
I continued, "Have you read my report on the battle off Savo?"
"I have."
"Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, but we still kept them away from the transports. Canberra, Australia and Quincy, along with three destroyer SHIPs were placed under my command. I've had them running daylight patrols while the rest of seven-niner takes the night shift."
"That reminds me, Captain." John interrupted me, "I have new orders for those six. They're to sail as soon as possible for Sydney."
"A shame." I muttered. I'd appreciated the extra hands. "I'll pass that on, Sir."
"Good, continue."
So, I did. "The repair bath is coming along well. The SeaBees last estimate have it being completed in the next four days."
"And, as instructed, I've had the destroyers surveying Savo Sound since we arrived. We've got a relatively complete depth map made. This entire area is quite deep. More than enough to operate any type of vessel. Our general rule of thumb is one nautical mile off shore. Stay outside of that and there's no issue. In fact…" I produced a folder that contained my report, "This is a relatively complete report you can pass up the chain."
John gave a satisfied nod. "Excellent. Good work Wales." He glanced over his shoulder at one of his new aides. "That reminds me, we have several intel reports for you as well."
My brows rose. "Oh?"
The aide stepped forward, and pulled several folders from his briefcase. I took them and quickly began to leaf through as we walked. "Assessment of Japanese G4M 'Betty', Analysis of IJN Decisive Battle Doctrine… Assessment of Japanese Type 95 Submarine Torpedo…" Now that was interesting.
I quickly stowed the rest of the reports for later reading, and opened the torpedo document. I had to admit, I was curious about how the Nips had created a wakeless torpedo.
A moment later, my face had twisted into disbelief. "Nine thousand yards at over fifty knots? On a submarine torpedo?" I glanced up at John to see him smirking, "Is this a joke?"
He gave a small laugh. "Keep reading."
So I did, and what I read a few lines later had me slack jawed. "They WHAT?! Pure oxygen!? Are they insane?!"
John chuckled at my reaction. "What do you think?"
I all but threw my hands in the air, "Right. Of course they are! They're Japs. Bloody hell. I suppose that explains why they keep exploding whenever we hit their torpedo tubes…" A sudden, worrying thought occurred to me, "How much better would the destroyer variant be?"
John shrugged, "Ours have about three times the range of the submarine variants."
I blinked. "Surely not? That would be… Thirty-Six thousand odd yards, give or take. At over forty knots? There's no way."
John shrugged, "It's possible. Normal compressed air is what? Twenty percent oxygen? Pure oxygen would be five times more efficient then?"
"Oh god." I sighed, "Honestly, that explains so much. Those torpedoes that caught us back at Java Sea. They must've fired those from twenty-five thousand yards or so at the beginning of the engagement."
"Most likely."
"Well, guess I'm never sailing in a straight line for more than ten minutes ever again…"
He patted my shoulder, "I'm sure you'll manage."
A moment later, before I could reply, a fairy popped up on my shoulder, waving a note at me. "Oioi oi oi oi."
"Oh. Thank you." I said, taking it. I took one look, and froze. "Bugger."
Everyone looked at me. John's brow rose. "What is it, Wales?"
"Nip cruisers spotted entering The Slot. And here I was hoping for another quiet night…"
Destroyer stupidity aside, a short respite between the First and Second Battles of Savo Island. One quite got the feeling the IJN was recalibrating and preparing a further counterstroke. And, as history would tell, that was exactly what they were doing. Upon receiving Admiral Mikawa's (slightly inaccurate) report of sinking five heavy cruisers, Yamamoto came to the conclusion that Guadalcanal would serve well for their 'decisive battle'. For our part, we continued our preparations for the inevitable coming battles. Unfortunately for us, the fighting would be far fiercer than anything we expected.
SEPTEMBER 14 1942
D+4
0902 HOURS
It was after another long night on Savo that I found myself walking along the beach near our camp on Guadalcanal. It really was a beautiful region of the world, I mused, apart from the heat of course. It was a beautiful day that had dawned, and not a cloud was to be seen. The sea was a gorgeous clear blue, and the beach white sand, contrasted by the lush green of the jungle.
I suppose there's a reason paradise is often imagined as tropical.
I was just returning to our tents when the crack of a rifle drew my attention. Then a second shot. And a third.
Curious, I found myself walking further along the beach until I spotted Encounter crouched by the treeline with a Lee-Enfield in hand. As I approached, she fired again at several targets on sticks she had set up where the waves met sand.
"Ennie?"
The pink haired destroyer glanced up at the sound of my voice, And she quickly safed the rifle. "Oh, 'ey Wales."
"What are you doing?" I asked, coming to a stop beside her.
She gestured with the rifle to her makeshift targets. "What does it look like?"
"Why?"
She shrugged, "'As been on my mind since the girls came back from Tulagi. 'Lectra… She's been having nightmares." She paused, then smiled. "Or daymares I guess." She joked, to lighten the mood.
I was still concerned however. "Is she all right?"
"Oh, come on Wales, it's Electra." She shook her head, "Big sis is as tough as nails." She hefted the rifle. "I'm just making sure I'm ready too. Nips aren't getting me easily."
"I'm sure you'll be alright." I said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "The Nips will have to go through me before I'd let any of you get hurt."
She snorted, "Thanks, Wales."
We lapsed into silence for a minute before she spoke again. "'ow do you do it, Wales?"
"Do what?"
She vaguely gestured out into the sound at Savo. "Be so damn brave. If I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd call you fearless."
I couldn't help but remember a quote I vaguely remembered hearing somewhere. "'Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid.' I'd wager I'm just as terrified as the rest of you when the bloody shells start flying."
"What are you afraid of?" The destroyer asked.
I shrugged, "A lot of things. Death, being wounded, again. Making a bad call that loses us a battle or, heaven forbid, gets one of you girls sunk. You?"
Her eyes fell, "I don't want to die. There's so much I want to do after the war…"
"Like?" I prompted.
"I want to travel, and see the world now that I'm free of my hull. I want to try all the food and drinks, now that I can taste. I want to learn to drive, to cook well, to fall in love. Now that we're free of our hulls we can live! Truly live! And if I die…"
I chuckled, "Same as Iku then."
Her brow furrowed. "The Jap sub?"
"Yes. She said some of the exact same things."
"Oh."
I threw my hand over Ennie's shoulders. "Tell you what. After the war, we'll get everyone together who wants to, and sail around the world. We can stop wherever you want, see everything you want. Sound good?"
The destroyer's eyes may as well have been glowing. "Really?"
"Of course."
She beamed at me, "I'll hold you to that, Wales."
I smiled back. "I look forward to it." I stepped away and produced my tommy gun, "Now, I don't suppose you'd mind if I join you? I could use some shooting practice myself."
Ennie shrugged, "Sure."
With a nod, I loaded the submachine gun. I'd just brought it up to my shoulder when Ennie spoke again. "What the hell kind of tommy gun is that, Wales?"
I blinked, lowering the gun and cocking it to the side where I could examine it. She wasn't wrong. I didn't know enough off the cuff to recognize the exact model of Thompson. But it was one of four I had aboard. They weren't standard issue, but my Marines had… Acquired them while we were in New York. Whether that meant trading for them or outright theft, I didn't want to know. Of those four guns, the fairies had foisted one specific gun off on me as 'my small arm'. It was the same gun I'd used in the push from the beach to the airfield
'Vera' was carved on the left side of the stock, and the pistol grip was lavishly engraved. But most damningly, the wooden handguard had tally marks. A block of five, and two. Seven.
If this hadn't been a New York Gangster or Hitman's gun, I'd eat my officer's sword.
Finally, I turned back to Ennie. "I don't know, my Marines got it in New York."
"It looks like a gangster's gun." She remarked.
"I'm quite sure it is."
"Oh."
"Shall we?"
"Yeah, yeah."
And so we started shooting.
SEPTEMBER 15 1942
D+5
0207 HOURS
I was quickly learning I was not a night owl. Being nocturnal, at least for only a few days, was hard. It seemed I'd need another few weeks before my circadian rhythms would sort themselves out. There was also just something so calming about sitting beside a fire on a dark beach in the wee hours that was just so… calming.
Sat or laying in the sand around the fire was the rest of my girls. My little sister was cuddled up against my side, Sims was laying with her head in Houston's lap, Boise, Perth and Hammann were roasting marshmallows, Electra, Ennie, and Jup were playing poker. Only Anderson and Express were missing, as the two of them were out patrolling to make up for the newly discovered gaps in the radar.
As we'd discovered from the previous days' tests, the Japanese fleet had unwittingly slipped through a gap under the southern radar close into shore. Meanwhile the destroyers' sonar depth surveys had revealed the surprising depth of Savo sound. Savo island itself seemed to be a steep underwater peak. A mere few hundred yards from shore the sea floor planged to over four hundred fathoms (1 fathom is about six feet for non-nautical readers). In fact, most of Savo Sound was four hundred feet plus, more than deep enough for even the heaviest ships. I'd already begun writing up a report to send up the chain, though I still assigned a different pair of destroyers each day to continue expanding the surveys.
Honestly, despite the First Battle of Savo, things had gone well so far. Enterprise had withdrawn on D+2 as planned once the marine fighters had arrived at Henderson, and the transports were scheduled to finish unloading today at 2000.
Honestly, it was all going too well. And I was too cynical by now to not expect the worst. War really was hell.
As I stared glassy eyed into the fire, I couldn't help but realise how crap this second life of mine had been. I'd virtually known nothing but war, barring those first few months of my new life that I could barely remember now. I'd never had any real freedom to go off and do as I liked, and I'd spent the last year and a half fighting, killing, being wounded, watching men and spirits I knew be killed, and even dying the once. When had I become such a perfect little toy soldier? Sometimes I really hated my damn overblown sense of duty. For that was really the only thing preventing me asking for a backline posting or discharge. But if I did that, I'd never forgive myself, especially now that that meant abandoning my girls. I doubted such a request would even be granted at this point anyway.
There were times when I really wished I could go back to my nice comfortable first life as a civvie.
But then my eyes landed on Howe, and I couldn't help the smile that filled my face at how adorable my sleeping sister was. It really wasn't all that bad though, was it? If I hadn't been granted this second chance, where would I have been? Heaven? Hell? Dead as a doornail? How lucky was I to have a second chance? And to have such wonderful sisters as Kay and Howe… I can't even describe how that felt. Those feelings of unconditional love that only those with siblings of their own could ever understand.
I glanced around at my fleet. My girls. My friends, and sisters-in-arms. I wouldn't have met any of them either. I counted Houston as a good friend, and the best second a flagship could ask for. She was the most dependable person I knew, always ready to back up and support me. Boise too, despite her sometimes immaturity. Perth was hard to befriend, but once you did, there was no one I'd rather have at my back. Jupiter… She was honestly almost like a daughter or little sister to me, always mature beyond what was expected of her, and an absolute sweetheart. Meanwhile Electra and Express were the rambunctious cousins, while Ennie was usually the responsible one. They caused me so much trouble, but I was coming to realise I wouldn't have the three E's any other way.
Even the three Sims, though I hadn't known them long. Sims was such a darling, and her cooking was to die for. Hammann was a little shit, but she was an endearing little shit. And Andie was just as good with her guitar and songwriting as she was with a five-inch gun.
And hell, I wouldn't have met John, who was more a father to me than the one I was born to a life ago. Or Repulse, always the cool aunt. Or the best mom a ship could ask for, Iron Duke. My first friend Dido. And everyone else I'd met along the way.
I wouldn't have gotten to leave Britain and see the world. I wouldn't have gotten to enjoy our pub crawls in Perth and Sydney. Nor feel the thrill of battle. Or the glorious feeling of speeding across the waves at flank speed. The thrill of firing guns bigger than I'd even known existed in my last life. I wouldn't have gotten to know what it was like to be a battleship, and all the good and bad that came with it.
And, in a way most importantly, I wouldn't have gotten to both live through and make history, fighting the greatest evil the world has ever known.
I smiled. War was hell. But even it had upsides.
0746 HOURS
The night had been quiet, with no sign of the IJN, and we returned to Henderson just after sunup. Sims and Jup had fired up the barbecue Perth had brought and, with the help of their fairies, cooked us all a large hearty dinner of steaks and grilled vegetables.
It was still weird to have dinner at just before eight in the morning, but that's how it went working night patrols.
"Thanks, you two." I said as Jup loaded my plate. No doubt I'd be back for seconds and thirds to replace the fuel I'd burnt going out to, and then back from, Savo. It was a short sail though, and the fuel drain was minuscule, so it was actually quite practical to refuel with food. Our two destroyer cooks had taken that into account and made enough food of course.
The J-class finished loading my plate with steak and vegetables. "No problem, Wales." She smiled as I took the plate. "It's fun!"
I took my time walking over to the fire pit we had near our tents, where everyone else was already eating. We had some logs to sit on, and someone had already relit the fire.
I sat down, and got to eating. And just as always, Sims' cooking was to die for. The steak was just perfect. I absolutely certainly did not stuff my face as quickly as I could chew. That would be crude.
I was most of the way through eating my first serving when my radio room began to pick up a morse message. In that moment, I shrugged, and kept eating. It was fifteen minutes later though, and in the middle of my second helping, that one of my radio fairies popped onto my shoulder with a 'oi' and a slip of paper.
"Oh, thank you." I said, taking the note. With a salute, he disappeared back aboard.
Now curious, I turned to the note:
FROM: COTF79
TO: FLAGTF79
WILL BE ARRIVING IN PERSON TOMORROW 0900 IN COMPANY WITH AMMO SHIP AND TANKER STOP CICPACFLEET SUSPECTS MAJOR IJN ACTION IMMINENT STOP LOOK FORWARD TO CATCHING UP
"Oh." It seemed John was coming in person. I hadn't expected that.
Houston, hawkeyed as ever, noticed my surprise from across the campfire. "Something up, Wales?"
I glanced up. "The Commodore's coming, along with his staff."
An amused smile crossed my 2nd's face, "Ah, the old man's gotten a bit action hungry has he? Sailed a desk for too long."
I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway. "Probably. Must've gone stir crazy being stuck back in Sydney."
"Heh." The cruiser chuckled. "Well, good officers do lead from the front."
SEPTEMBER 16 1942
D+6
0900 HOURS
Twenty-four hours later, Houston and I were standing on the beach as a small convoy anchored off shore and began offloading. Various boats and landing craft shuttled back and forth, delivering the ship's cargos ashore. One of the first ashore disgorged a small party of officers, who made their way up the beach towards us.
I saluted the leader once they stood before us. "Commodore Leach. Welcome to Guadalcanal."
John returned my salute with a small smile. "It's good to be here Captain Windsor." My former Captain looked around, "It's been far too long since I was anywhere near the front."
"Been stuck behind a desk too long, Sir?"
He nodded, "Something like that. So, where do you have camp set up?"
I gestured for them to follow us. "Right this way Sir."
As we began walking along the beach back towards the still-under-construction bunker and our camp, I took a moment to look over the men accompanying John. I recognized Lieutenant Anderson easily enough, but the other three were foreign to me. It seemed John had finally put together a command staff.
"So," John spoke, breaking me from my observation, "What's the situation been like?"
"Favorable." I replied. "We've lost two transports to air attack, and three others damaged, but the CAP has rapidly improved. Between the ships and Marine F4Fs, the last count was ten confirmed, two probables, and eighteen damaged, all Bettys, which we believe is most of Rabual's air strength. The strikes have tapered off which lends credence to that."
I continued, "Have you read my report on the battle off Savo?"
"I have."
"Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, but we still kept them away from the transports. Canberra, Australia and Quincy, along with three destroyer SHIPs were placed under my command. I've had them running daylight patrols while the rest of seven-niner takes the night shift."
"That reminds me, Captain." John interrupted me, "I have new orders for those six. They're to sail as soon as possible for Sydney."
"A shame." I muttered. I'd appreciated the extra hands. "I'll pass that on, Sir."
"Good, continue."
So, I did. "The repair bath is coming along well. The SeaBees last estimate have it being completed in the next four days."
"And, as instructed, I've had the destroyers surveying Savo Sound since we arrived. We've got a relatively complete depth map made. This entire area is quite deep. More than enough to operate any type of vessel. Our general rule of thumb is one nautical mile off shore. Stay outside of that and there's no issue. In fact…" I produced a folder that contained my report, "This is a relatively complete report you can pass up the chain."
John gave a satisfied nod. "Excellent. Good work Wales." He glanced over his shoulder at one of his new aides. "That reminds me, we have several intel reports for you as well."
My brows rose. "Oh?"
The aide stepped forward, and pulled several folders from his briefcase. I took them and quickly began to leaf through as we walked. "Assessment of Japanese G4M 'Betty', Analysis of IJN Decisive Battle Doctrine… Assessment of Japanese Type 95 Submarine Torpedo…" Now that was interesting.
I quickly stowed the rest of the reports for later reading, and opened the torpedo document. I had to admit, I was curious about how the Nips had created a wakeless torpedo.
A moment later, my face had twisted into disbelief. "Nine thousand yards at over fifty knots? On a submarine torpedo?" I glanced up at John to see him smirking, "Is this a joke?"
He gave a small laugh. "Keep reading."
So I did, and what I read a few lines later had me slack jawed. "They WHAT?! Pure oxygen!? Are they insane?!"
John chuckled at my reaction. "What do you think?"
I all but threw my hands in the air, "Right. Of course they are! They're Japs. Bloody hell. I suppose that explains why they keep exploding whenever we hit their torpedo tubes…" A sudden, worrying thought occurred to me, "How much better would the destroyer variant be?"
John shrugged, "Ours have about three times the range of the submarine variants."
I blinked. "Surely not? That would be… Thirty-Six thousand odd yards, give or take. At over forty knots? There's no way."
John shrugged, "It's possible. Normal compressed air is what? Twenty percent oxygen? Pure oxygen would be five times more efficient then?"
"Oh god." I sighed, "Honestly, that explains so much. Those torpedoes that caught us back at Java Sea. They must've fired those from twenty-five thousand yards or so at the beginning of the engagement."
"Most likely."
"Well, guess I'm never sailing in a straight line for more than ten minutes ever again…"
He patted my shoulder, "I'm sure you'll manage."
A moment later, before I could reply, a fairy popped up on my shoulder, waving a note at me. "Oioi oi oi oi."
"Oh. Thank you." I said, taking it. I took one look, and froze. "Bugger."
Everyone looked at me. John's brow rose. "What is it, Wales?"
"Nip cruisers spotted entering The Slot. And here I was hoping for another quiet night…"
KongouBongo
Always got to make time for tea-time!
- Location
- 26°9'1"N 121°22'57"E
Another good chapter, though Yudachii gave a good explanation of Type 93 in the anime as well Poi
Poi
*looks at their plans, their damcon, and their interpretation of Mahan*
Yes
Spherical_Light
Likely Illuminating a room near you
- Location
- NW US
What the above person said.
Navol Torpedoes would do well here... Seems like PoW is hinting at those...
As for Poiboat... and Shimakaze, that would be an interesting thing to read.
Navol Torpedoes would do well here... Seems like PoW is hinting at those...
As for Poiboat... and Shimakaze, that would be an interesting thing to read.
Chapter 48: The Second Battle of Savo Island
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 48: The Second Battle of Savo Island
The Second Battle of Savo Island With Mikawa's (exaggerated) success in the first battle, the IJN High Command came to believe their 'decisive battle' could be found in the soon to be named Iron Bottom Sound. This sudden shift and commitment would directly lead to the next two months of force fighting, which kicked off with the Second Battle of Savo Island. It was TF79's first major engagement as a full twelve SHIP formation, and my first trial of command.
SEPTEMBER 16 1942
D+6
1700 HOURS
"Captain Windsor?"
I glanced up from my breakfast at the sound of my legal name. I'd just gotten up and was getting some food before tonight's sortie. John was approaching, with a young man in Khakis. My brow furrowed as I stood. "Sir?"
John began to introduce us, "Captain, this is Second Lieutenant Briggs, VMSB-141's intelligence officer. Lieutenant, this is Captain Windsor, my second in command and at sea commander."
I stuck out my hand, "A pleasure, Leftenant."
"Likewise, Ma'am."
John continued, "Mr. Briggs has agreed to act as liaison and provide us with nightly intel briefings on anything of import. Likewise, we will provide the marine aviators with any useful reports and intel through him."
"I see." I replied, "I don't suppose you've got anything on that enemy fleet headed our way, Leftenant?"
The young marine nodded. "Aye, Ma'am." He glanced down at the bundled map he was carrying. "You got a table?"
I couldn't help a small smirk as I pulled a table from behind my back and plunked it down between us. "Yes."
For a moment, he just stared. This one hadn't had much exposure to SHIPs it seemed. "How did you…" He blinked, and shook his head, "Never mind."
"So, what are we up against?" I asked as he laid out the map on the table.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out Ma'am." He replied. "I'm sure you know how inaccurate aerial contact reports tend to be."
I gave a small snort. "That's putting it mildly."
"Yeah. Well, we flew a full squadron strike on them. The boys got back two hours ago so I got them all debriefed. We have five claimed hits, all on heavy cruisers, but experience tells me that's one or two actual hits." He reported.
Now I was curious. "How many aircraft do you have?" I interrupted.
"Sixteen, ma'am." He replied, "Though only ten were serviceable for the strike. VMSB-231 will be arriving in the next few days with another sixteen, if they all make the flight."
Still being curious, I asked, "How many squadrons are currently on the field?"
"Three. Us with our SBDs, and VMF-112 and -212 in F4Fs."
"I see." I nodded, "Apologies for the tangent."
"No problem ma'am. To get back on topic, I got reports all over the place from the pilots. One claimed a pair of battleships, another eight heavies…"
I rolled my eyes, "I don't care what they think they saw, Leftenant. I care what you think they have, from those reports."
"Right, sorry ma'am." He quickly apologised. "I don't think they have battleships, only one pilot claimed that. "I have this photo," He placed it on the table, "of four heavy cruisers, so that is confirmed, and claims of up to eight, so four-to-six seems likely. Claims of anywhere from two-to-six light cruisers, so call it four. And ten plus destroyers was almost a universal claim.
"And then there's the second destroyer fleet we spotted. Eight or so DDs, nearby but separately."
I bit my lip. "So call it six heavies, four lights, and ten-plus destroyers. Plus a second formation of eight-plus…"
He nodded, "Seems about right ma'am."
I shared a worried glance with John, "Are we getting any reinforcements?"
The Commodore shook his head. "Turner left with most of his ships around noon. There's a cruiser force on its way from Espiritu at flank, but they'll arrive early in the morning, around oh-five or oh-six-hundred."
"And when are the Japs going to arrive?"
"I was speaking with the Lieutenant about this." John pointed to a spot on the map just in The Slot, "They attacked the Nips here. At thirty knots, they'll arrive around midnight."
I blew out a breath, "So just us then. Bugger." My hand rose to stroke a non-existent beard. It wasn't the worst odds. Two modern fast battleships and three supporting cruisers, versus four to six heavies, and two to three lights. Honestly, outnumbered as we were, it was a relatively fair fight. Tactics would be key. I had to limit the advantages of the Japanese torpedoes, and maximise our gunpower advantage. In a clear, daylight engagement, Howe and I would be able to stay at long range and maul them with our heavy guns, but at night it was a far closer run affair.
John was looking at me, "What are you thinking, Wales?"
I met his eyes. "Well, it's winnable. Could go either way. Those damn torpedoes mean a lucky shot could easily put one of us out of the fight, but between Howe and I we have enough firepower to outshoot the Japs every day of the week." I bit my lip, "It's risky. If things go bad we may be out of this campaign. Whoever gets the drop on the other is going to win this I think."
John mulled that over. "If it's too risky you don't have to sortie. The transports are clear."
I balked. "And, what? Give the Nips free reign to bombard the field?"
He met my eyes. "The field can be repaired, and planes and pilots can be replaced. You cannot."
I blinked. I'd never known John could be so cold. He continued with a shrug, "It is an option. But you're the experienced combatant here. The choice is yours."
It was hardly a choice, was it? Hide ashore like a coward and put men at risk, or fight and put myself at risk instead. I was sure John knew me well enough to know exactly what I would choose.
2152 HOURS
As usual, after dark found us sitting around a small fire, on one of Savo's eastern beaches. Sims and Ennie had first shift, the American destroyer patrolling the northern strait, while the E-class took the south. I'd briefed everyone before we'd left Henderson Field, so we all knew what to expect, and when to expect it. Now all we had to do was wait.
The rest of us were entertaining ourselves. I was currently sitting right beside the fire with Howe, a stick in hand with a marshmallow on the end.
"Here you go." I said, handing it over to my sister, who was sitting beside me.
Howe took and examined it. Then shrugged, "So, I just stick it in the fire?"
"No!" I exclaimed, too late as the white treat was shoved straight into the flames and caught fire. At my cry she jerked it back, but it kept burning anyway. I facepalmed. "Sis, you don't cook things by shoving them into the flames."
She just stared at the black bubbling marshmallow. "Oh. Oops?"
I rolled my eyes, but still grinned. My little sister was too precious. "Give me that." I quickly shucked the blackened treat into the fire and replaced it. "You want to get it close, but not so close it burns." I explained, pointing to the sides and a small pocket under the burning wood. "The best spots are lower down, where it's hottest but not flaming."
"Got it." She gave an adorable determined nod, and this time held the stick near the side of the fire, near the coals.
"Now, just slowly rotate it so it cooks evenly." I Instructed. She did, and the next minute was spent watching the treat slowly cook.
Finally, it turned a nice golden brown, and she pulled it back. "Did I do it?"
I nodded, "Yeah. Good job."
Without further ado, my sister spun the stick around, and ate it. The way her face lit up as she chewed on the gummy marshmallow made my day. "Mmmm thash reall goo." She tried to speak with her mouth full. She swallowed. "How did you learn, Wales?"
Now that was a question. And one that brought back fond memories of a small campsite, and someone all too similar to Howe. "My little brother taught me. He loved the outdoors and camping. He took me up into the Brecon Beacons, I must've been twenty. We spent the weekend camping and hiking. First time I ever had a marshmallow."
My sister had something of an awestruck look on her face. "Could you take me? After the war?"
"I'd love to." I said with a wide smile. At that moment my internal alarm clock rang. "2200 already? We only just started." With a yawn, I stood and stretched. "Alright, up and at 'em ladies!"
It was credit to my girls that none of them complained, or even so much as groaned, instead standing and dusting the sand off their uniforms. Houston doused the fire, and as one, the ten of us headed for the water through the dark.
Ten minutes later we were slowly cruising just offshore, back in the usual battleline formation of Me, Howe, Houston, Boise and Perth with the DDs screening. The Nips would be along in an hour or two. It wouldn't do to be caught ashore if they showed up early.
The next two hours were terribly dull. With the transports and their near constant chatter gone, we sailed in radio silence. Any chatter would no longer be masked by the rest of the transmissions, and I wasn't going to give the Nips anything I didn't have to.
So boredom it was. At least, until Sims came over the radio, half an hour past midnight. "Radar contact. Looks like… Six miles due north of Savo, heading seems roughly southeast at around thirty knots."
I took a deep breath. "Here we go again." I muttered, and keyed the radio. "Right, Ennie, Sims, pull back to us. Formation turn due north and make twenty-five knots. We'll see if we can cross their T. Destroyers, I want a full portside screen."
"Aye aye!"
Again it was credit to my girls and their experience that we avoided any accidents as the screen shifted to the left. The night was clear but dark, the moon only half full. Even with amere five hundred yard spacing I could barely make out Howe's projected hull.
We made our way North, and I quickly picked up Sims as she sped back to us at flank. A moment later the Japs appeared on my scope. Boise let out a low whistle over the radio, "That's a lot of Japs."
She was right. I had about fifteen individual contacts, the closest at fifteen thousand yards, and heading almost straight for us. I immediately began loading and swinging my guns around, while my FCS went to work computing a firing solution. "Standby action to port. Reduce speed to twenty knots. Let them get closer before we engage." I ordered.
We slowed, hopefully reducing our wake and making us harder to spot. Even knowing where to look, I couldn't see the IJN Warships at this range. All of a sudden I was extremely grateful for my new radar integration. "Standard targets. I'll take first in line, Howe second and so on. Destroyers, first two salvos will be star shells, then every eighth salvo. Otherwise engage your counterparts. Jup, you have command of the screen."
"Got it."
I continued, "Reduce speed to fifteen knots. Come starboard to zero-two-zero." That put us directly crossing their T. Now, we waited.
A minute passed. Two. Three. The range came down. Fifteen thousand yards became ten. Then eight. Then seven, then six. At just over five thousand five hundred yards I was able to make out the dark shapes in the inky black night. Had they seen us? They hadn't reacted yet.
"Stand by to open fire." I ordered, heart beginning to race. Here I was, once more about to plunge into combat. There was a part of me, a small one mind, that loved fighting. After all, I was a battleship. In this life, I was literally made for this. And it was a hell of a rush.
Once more dear friends, once more.
"Make twenty-nine knots! Fire at will! Let 'em have it!"
What came next was blinding and deafening. Between the twelve of us, in under three seconds over a hundred main and secondary battery guns opened up. Later, one of the Japanese ships would recount to me that it appeared as if the entire horizon had suddenly exploded.
The Japanese were caught completely by surprise. And unfortunately for them, at five thousand yards we could hardly miss. Shells slammed home through steel with bright flashes as over fourty starshells turned night into day. Five Japanese heavy cruisers greeted us, with ten destroyers.
Our first salvo was devastating. Especially the fourteen-inchers. My first salvo had landed four hits on the lead cruiser leaving her two forward turrets demolished and a merry blaze amidships. Even worse for her, she also seemed to already be losing speed. And that was before my new five-inch secondaries started pelting her as fast as I could get them reloaded.
Up and down their five cruiser battleline the story was much the same, with all five already having fires of one sort or another and visible damage. "Ha! How do like that you yellow fuckers! Pour it on 'em girls!" Boise roared, already loosing a second fifteen-gun broadside.
I refocused on my own target as my secondaries began to splash all around the cruiser. Several began to strike home on her belt and upperworks, detonating in deceptively small flashes. She staggered out of line, slowing as my gun crews worked as quickly as they could to reload my main battery.
Thirty-three seconds after my first, I fired my second slavo. And with her having turned to open her broadside, and the range having closed to four-thousand yards, six shells struck home. Mostly along her waterline. One struck her just aft of midships, where her torpedo tubes were.
I couldn't help a slightly satisfied, adrenaline fueled grin at the huge ensuing explosion. "And that is why you don't use pure oxygen, you muppets!"
Two salvos. That's all it took for me to cripple and sink Mikuma. The third that soon followed was overkill, but in my defence, it can be near impossible to be sure an enemy ship is out of the fight, especially in a chaotic night action.
By the time of my third salvo, about a minute and thirty seconds into the engagement, the Japanese formation had disintegrated as they maneuvered to avoid collisions with the lead ships that had lost steam.
"Wales, Jupiter!" The radio squawked. "Permission to launch torpedoes?"
"Granted!" I yelled back, as my new Bofors and Oerlikons began to fire on a destroyer that had gotten too close. A split second later a hail of shells from Hammann and Andie pelted her, and she turned hard away pumping out smoke.
I glanced around, trying to get a handle on the situation. Howe was still right behind me, hammering the second ship in line. The poor cruiser looked just as buggered as my target, rapidly slowing and listing. Behind her, Houston had mauled her counterpart, while Perth and Boise were doing their best machine gun impressions. Boise especially. Her guns were firing completely out of sync as fast as they could be loaded. From all fifteen of her guns it looked like two or three rounds were being sent downrange every second. Her target could best be described as a 'rapidly retreating bonfire'. The destroyers were getting on well too, hammering away at their Japanese counterparts.
But by now, several Japanese ships, both destroyers and cruisers had turned broadside. And I was not eager to see if my torpedo defences could hold against those monster oxygen torps. To my eye, in under two minutes we'd crippiled or sank three cruisers, and three or four destroyers, and damaged everything else.
Yes. Time to get while the getting was good.
"Seven-niner! Synchronized standard turn to starboard to one-one-zero on my mark! Three-two-one mark! Make smoke!"
As one, the twelve of us turned away, smoke billowing from our stacks. The Japanese ships rapidly disappeared behind a thick smokescreen.
"Why are we disengaging?!" Boise came over the radio. "We fucken had the bastards!"
"Oh shut up Boise." Houston shot back. "Those three are crippled. Even if they stay afloat until daylight, the dive bombers'll get 'em."
"Exactly." I jutted in. "I'd much rather take two sunk cruisers for no loss, than five at the cost of one of us being sunk or badly damaged. Speaking of, damage report?"
"One eight-inch hit." Houston reported first. "Overpenetrated my super structure. Minimal damage."
"One eight-incher and three five-inch, I think." Spoke Boise. "DDs really wanted to shoot me. Uptakes are a bit fucked but nothing major."
"This is Sims. Number 1 turret knocked out. Otherwise I'm fine."
"This is Jup. Minor flooding from a waterline hit. I have it under control."
After Jup had spoken, silence reigned for a moment, only interrupted by a few blindly fired shells passing overhead. Boise chuckled. "We really pissed them off."
"We did. Let's just hope they don't hit us with any blind fired torpedoes."
They didn't.
We were a jubilant group that came ashore near Henderson an hour later. John had stayed up to watch the whole thing it seemed. I spotted him waiting in the treeline, lit by a fire that Lieutenant Anderson was tending.
He took one look at us as we came into the firelight, "I take it that things went well? It looked like you were only engaged for a few minutes."
I nodded with a huge grin. "Four minutes. They brought five cruisers, ten destroyers. We crippled at least three of the bastards, though we may need the flyboys to finish them off."
Now John was grinning. "Bloody good work! Got the drop on them did you?"
"Completely and utterly."
"Well done. Get some food and some rest." He glanced over at the scrape across Boise's forehead. "And get those wounds seen too. You girls have earned it."
The Second Battle of Savo Island With Mikawa's (exaggerated) success in the first battle, the IJN High Command came to believe their 'decisive battle' could be found in the soon to be named Iron Bottom Sound. This sudden shift and commitment would directly lead to the next two months of force fighting, which kicked off with the Second Battle of Savo Island. It was TF79's first major engagement as a full twelve SHIP formation, and my first trial of command.
SEPTEMBER 16 1942
D+6
1700 HOURS
"Captain Windsor?"
I glanced up from my breakfast at the sound of my legal name. I'd just gotten up and was getting some food before tonight's sortie. John was approaching, with a young man in Khakis. My brow furrowed as I stood. "Sir?"
John began to introduce us, "Captain, this is Second Lieutenant Briggs, VMSB-141's intelligence officer. Lieutenant, this is Captain Windsor, my second in command and at sea commander."
I stuck out my hand, "A pleasure, Leftenant."
"Likewise, Ma'am."
John continued, "Mr. Briggs has agreed to act as liaison and provide us with nightly intel briefings on anything of import. Likewise, we will provide the marine aviators with any useful reports and intel through him."
"I see." I replied, "I don't suppose you've got anything on that enemy fleet headed our way, Leftenant?"
The young marine nodded. "Aye, Ma'am." He glanced down at the bundled map he was carrying. "You got a table?"
I couldn't help a small smirk as I pulled a table from behind my back and plunked it down between us. "Yes."
For a moment, he just stared. This one hadn't had much exposure to SHIPs it seemed. "How did you…" He blinked, and shook his head, "Never mind."
"So, what are we up against?" I asked as he laid out the map on the table.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out Ma'am." He replied. "I'm sure you know how inaccurate aerial contact reports tend to be."
I gave a small snort. "That's putting it mildly."
"Yeah. Well, we flew a full squadron strike on them. The boys got back two hours ago so I got them all debriefed. We have five claimed hits, all on heavy cruisers, but experience tells me that's one or two actual hits." He reported.
Now I was curious. "How many aircraft do you have?" I interrupted.
"Sixteen, ma'am." He replied, "Though only ten were serviceable for the strike. VMSB-231 will be arriving in the next few days with another sixteen, if they all make the flight."
Still being curious, I asked, "How many squadrons are currently on the field?"
"Three. Us with our SBDs, and VMF-112 and -212 in F4Fs."
"I see." I nodded, "Apologies for the tangent."
"No problem ma'am. To get back on topic, I got reports all over the place from the pilots. One claimed a pair of battleships, another eight heavies…"
I rolled my eyes, "I don't care what they think they saw, Leftenant. I care what you think they have, from those reports."
"Right, sorry ma'am." He quickly apologised. "I don't think they have battleships, only one pilot claimed that. "I have this photo," He placed it on the table, "of four heavy cruisers, so that is confirmed, and claims of up to eight, so four-to-six seems likely. Claims of anywhere from two-to-six light cruisers, so call it four. And ten plus destroyers was almost a universal claim.
"And then there's the second destroyer fleet we spotted. Eight or so DDs, nearby but separately."
I bit my lip. "So call it six heavies, four lights, and ten-plus destroyers. Plus a second formation of eight-plus…"
He nodded, "Seems about right ma'am."
I shared a worried glance with John, "Are we getting any reinforcements?"
The Commodore shook his head. "Turner left with most of his ships around noon. There's a cruiser force on its way from Espiritu at flank, but they'll arrive early in the morning, around oh-five or oh-six-hundred."
"And when are the Japs going to arrive?"
"I was speaking with the Lieutenant about this." John pointed to a spot on the map just in The Slot, "They attacked the Nips here. At thirty knots, they'll arrive around midnight."
I blew out a breath, "So just us then. Bugger." My hand rose to stroke a non-existent beard. It wasn't the worst odds. Two modern fast battleships and three supporting cruisers, versus four to six heavies, and two to three lights. Honestly, outnumbered as we were, it was a relatively fair fight. Tactics would be key. I had to limit the advantages of the Japanese torpedoes, and maximise our gunpower advantage. In a clear, daylight engagement, Howe and I would be able to stay at long range and maul them with our heavy guns, but at night it was a far closer run affair.
John was looking at me, "What are you thinking, Wales?"
I met his eyes. "Well, it's winnable. Could go either way. Those damn torpedoes mean a lucky shot could easily put one of us out of the fight, but between Howe and I we have enough firepower to outshoot the Japs every day of the week." I bit my lip, "It's risky. If things go bad we may be out of this campaign. Whoever gets the drop on the other is going to win this I think."
John mulled that over. "If it's too risky you don't have to sortie. The transports are clear."
I balked. "And, what? Give the Nips free reign to bombard the field?"
He met my eyes. "The field can be repaired, and planes and pilots can be replaced. You cannot."
I blinked. I'd never known John could be so cold. He continued with a shrug, "It is an option. But you're the experienced combatant here. The choice is yours."
It was hardly a choice, was it? Hide ashore like a coward and put men at risk, or fight and put myself at risk instead. I was sure John knew me well enough to know exactly what I would choose.
2152 HOURS
As usual, after dark found us sitting around a small fire, on one of Savo's eastern beaches. Sims and Ennie had first shift, the American destroyer patrolling the northern strait, while the E-class took the south. I'd briefed everyone before we'd left Henderson Field, so we all knew what to expect, and when to expect it. Now all we had to do was wait.
The rest of us were entertaining ourselves. I was currently sitting right beside the fire with Howe, a stick in hand with a marshmallow on the end.
"Here you go." I said, handing it over to my sister, who was sitting beside me.
Howe took and examined it. Then shrugged, "So, I just stick it in the fire?"
"No!" I exclaimed, too late as the white treat was shoved straight into the flames and caught fire. At my cry she jerked it back, but it kept burning anyway. I facepalmed. "Sis, you don't cook things by shoving them into the flames."
She just stared at the black bubbling marshmallow. "Oh. Oops?"
I rolled my eyes, but still grinned. My little sister was too precious. "Give me that." I quickly shucked the blackened treat into the fire and replaced it. "You want to get it close, but not so close it burns." I explained, pointing to the sides and a small pocket under the burning wood. "The best spots are lower down, where it's hottest but not flaming."
"Got it." She gave an adorable determined nod, and this time held the stick near the side of the fire, near the coals.
"Now, just slowly rotate it so it cooks evenly." I Instructed. She did, and the next minute was spent watching the treat slowly cook.
Finally, it turned a nice golden brown, and she pulled it back. "Did I do it?"
I nodded, "Yeah. Good job."
Without further ado, my sister spun the stick around, and ate it. The way her face lit up as she chewed on the gummy marshmallow made my day. "Mmmm thash reall goo." She tried to speak with her mouth full. She swallowed. "How did you learn, Wales?"
Now that was a question. And one that brought back fond memories of a small campsite, and someone all too similar to Howe. "My little brother taught me. He loved the outdoors and camping. He took me up into the Brecon Beacons, I must've been twenty. We spent the weekend camping and hiking. First time I ever had a marshmallow."
My sister had something of an awestruck look on her face. "Could you take me? After the war?"
"I'd love to." I said with a wide smile. At that moment my internal alarm clock rang. "2200 already? We only just started." With a yawn, I stood and stretched. "Alright, up and at 'em ladies!"
It was credit to my girls that none of them complained, or even so much as groaned, instead standing and dusting the sand off their uniforms. Houston doused the fire, and as one, the ten of us headed for the water through the dark.
Ten minutes later we were slowly cruising just offshore, back in the usual battleline formation of Me, Howe, Houston, Boise and Perth with the DDs screening. The Nips would be along in an hour or two. It wouldn't do to be caught ashore if they showed up early.
The next two hours were terribly dull. With the transports and their near constant chatter gone, we sailed in radio silence. Any chatter would no longer be masked by the rest of the transmissions, and I wasn't going to give the Nips anything I didn't have to.
So boredom it was. At least, until Sims came over the radio, half an hour past midnight. "Radar contact. Looks like… Six miles due north of Savo, heading seems roughly southeast at around thirty knots."
I took a deep breath. "Here we go again." I muttered, and keyed the radio. "Right, Ennie, Sims, pull back to us. Formation turn due north and make twenty-five knots. We'll see if we can cross their T. Destroyers, I want a full portside screen."
"Aye aye!"
Again it was credit to my girls and their experience that we avoided any accidents as the screen shifted to the left. The night was clear but dark, the moon only half full. Even with amere five hundred yard spacing I could barely make out Howe's projected hull.
We made our way North, and I quickly picked up Sims as she sped back to us at flank. A moment later the Japs appeared on my scope. Boise let out a low whistle over the radio, "That's a lot of Japs."
She was right. I had about fifteen individual contacts, the closest at fifteen thousand yards, and heading almost straight for us. I immediately began loading and swinging my guns around, while my FCS went to work computing a firing solution. "Standby action to port. Reduce speed to twenty knots. Let them get closer before we engage." I ordered.
We slowed, hopefully reducing our wake and making us harder to spot. Even knowing where to look, I couldn't see the IJN Warships at this range. All of a sudden I was extremely grateful for my new radar integration. "Standard targets. I'll take first in line, Howe second and so on. Destroyers, first two salvos will be star shells, then every eighth salvo. Otherwise engage your counterparts. Jup, you have command of the screen."
"Got it."
I continued, "Reduce speed to fifteen knots. Come starboard to zero-two-zero." That put us directly crossing their T. Now, we waited.
A minute passed. Two. Three. The range came down. Fifteen thousand yards became ten. Then eight. Then seven, then six. At just over five thousand five hundred yards I was able to make out the dark shapes in the inky black night. Had they seen us? They hadn't reacted yet.
"Stand by to open fire." I ordered, heart beginning to race. Here I was, once more about to plunge into combat. There was a part of me, a small one mind, that loved fighting. After all, I was a battleship. In this life, I was literally made for this. And it was a hell of a rush.
Once more dear friends, once more.
"Make twenty-nine knots! Fire at will! Let 'em have it!"
What came next was blinding and deafening. Between the twelve of us, in under three seconds over a hundred main and secondary battery guns opened up. Later, one of the Japanese ships would recount to me that it appeared as if the entire horizon had suddenly exploded.
The Japanese were caught completely by surprise. And unfortunately for them, at five thousand yards we could hardly miss. Shells slammed home through steel with bright flashes as over fourty starshells turned night into day. Five Japanese heavy cruisers greeted us, with ten destroyers.
Our first salvo was devastating. Especially the fourteen-inchers. My first salvo had landed four hits on the lead cruiser leaving her two forward turrets demolished and a merry blaze amidships. Even worse for her, she also seemed to already be losing speed. And that was before my new five-inch secondaries started pelting her as fast as I could get them reloaded.
Up and down their five cruiser battleline the story was much the same, with all five already having fires of one sort or another and visible damage. "Ha! How do like that you yellow fuckers! Pour it on 'em girls!" Boise roared, already loosing a second fifteen-gun broadside.
I refocused on my own target as my secondaries began to splash all around the cruiser. Several began to strike home on her belt and upperworks, detonating in deceptively small flashes. She staggered out of line, slowing as my gun crews worked as quickly as they could to reload my main battery.
Thirty-three seconds after my first, I fired my second slavo. And with her having turned to open her broadside, and the range having closed to four-thousand yards, six shells struck home. Mostly along her waterline. One struck her just aft of midships, where her torpedo tubes were.
I couldn't help a slightly satisfied, adrenaline fueled grin at the huge ensuing explosion. "And that is why you don't use pure oxygen, you muppets!"
Two salvos. That's all it took for me to cripple and sink Mikuma. The third that soon followed was overkill, but in my defence, it can be near impossible to be sure an enemy ship is out of the fight, especially in a chaotic night action.
By the time of my third salvo, about a minute and thirty seconds into the engagement, the Japanese formation had disintegrated as they maneuvered to avoid collisions with the lead ships that had lost steam.
"Wales, Jupiter!" The radio squawked. "Permission to launch torpedoes?"
"Granted!" I yelled back, as my new Bofors and Oerlikons began to fire on a destroyer that had gotten too close. A split second later a hail of shells from Hammann and Andie pelted her, and she turned hard away pumping out smoke.
I glanced around, trying to get a handle on the situation. Howe was still right behind me, hammering the second ship in line. The poor cruiser looked just as buggered as my target, rapidly slowing and listing. Behind her, Houston had mauled her counterpart, while Perth and Boise were doing their best machine gun impressions. Boise especially. Her guns were firing completely out of sync as fast as they could be loaded. From all fifteen of her guns it looked like two or three rounds were being sent downrange every second. Her target could best be described as a 'rapidly retreating bonfire'. The destroyers were getting on well too, hammering away at their Japanese counterparts.
But by now, several Japanese ships, both destroyers and cruisers had turned broadside. And I was not eager to see if my torpedo defences could hold against those monster oxygen torps. To my eye, in under two minutes we'd crippiled or sank three cruisers, and three or four destroyers, and damaged everything else.
Yes. Time to get while the getting was good.
"Seven-niner! Synchronized standard turn to starboard to one-one-zero on my mark! Three-two-one mark! Make smoke!"
As one, the twelve of us turned away, smoke billowing from our stacks. The Japanese ships rapidly disappeared behind a thick smokescreen.
"Why are we disengaging?!" Boise came over the radio. "We fucken had the bastards!"
"Oh shut up Boise." Houston shot back. "Those three are crippled. Even if they stay afloat until daylight, the dive bombers'll get 'em."
"Exactly." I jutted in. "I'd much rather take two sunk cruisers for no loss, than five at the cost of one of us being sunk or badly damaged. Speaking of, damage report?"
"One eight-inch hit." Houston reported first. "Overpenetrated my super structure. Minimal damage."
"One eight-incher and three five-inch, I think." Spoke Boise. "DDs really wanted to shoot me. Uptakes are a bit fucked but nothing major."
"This is Sims. Number 1 turret knocked out. Otherwise I'm fine."
"This is Jup. Minor flooding from a waterline hit. I have it under control."
After Jup had spoken, silence reigned for a moment, only interrupted by a few blindly fired shells passing overhead. Boise chuckled. "We really pissed them off."
"We did. Let's just hope they don't hit us with any blind fired torpedoes."
They didn't.
We were a jubilant group that came ashore near Henderson an hour later. John had stayed up to watch the whole thing it seemed. I spotted him waiting in the treeline, lit by a fire that Lieutenant Anderson was tending.
He took one look at us as we came into the firelight, "I take it that things went well? It looked like you were only engaged for a few minutes."
I nodded with a huge grin. "Four minutes. They brought five cruisers, ten destroyers. We crippled at least three of the bastards, though we may need the flyboys to finish them off."
Now John was grinning. "Bloody good work! Got the drop on them did you?"
"Completely and utterly."
"Well done. Get some food and some rest." He glanced over at the scrape across Boise's forehead. "And get those wounds seen too. You girls have earned it."
KongouBongo
Always got to make time for tea-time!
- Location
- 26°9'1"N 121°22'57"E
If I am not mistaken, it was not uncommon for Captains to dump all their torpedoes into the water (ie shoot) as soon as they engaged knowing what the result of a hit on the torpedoes would do to their ship.
Spherical_Light
Likely Illuminating a room near you
- Location
- NW US
Well, that went well it seemed. I found an interesting art piece that possibly you havent seen yet...
Rheinuburg
Thats what the piece is called. I only post it because PoW is depicted as extremely emotional here, a very poignant image.
Rheinuburg
Thats what the piece is called. I only post it because PoW is depicted as extremely emotional here, a very poignant image.
- Location
- Frozen Winterland
Note the art credit; Dishwasher 1910, real name Bach Do, got hard into Azur Lane once it had its english release, and was a good enough artist (and fan) that he got commissioned to make actual character art in-game. Both the P-class Heavy Cruisers and the Kronshtadt were done by him.
As for that specific art piece, well, it's pretty accurate to how the battle of Denmark Strait went down, to be honest. The only one that came out of that fight unscathed was Prinz Eugen.
As for that specific art piece, well, it's pretty accurate to how the battle of Denmark Strait went down, to be honest. The only one that came out of that fight unscathed was Prinz Eugen.
Chapter 49: Home Away From Home
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 49: Home Away From Home
In war, overclaiming and misidentification is a fact of life. We believed we'd crippled or sank three cruisers, and five destroyers. As it turned out, we'd actually sunk Mikuma, and crippled Mogami, who come morning was then finished off by bombers from Henderson, while Sazuya was damaged and managed to limp away. Two Japanese destroyers also went to the bottom. Less than half of the five destroyers we'd claimed.
However, unknown to us, the cruisers had been cover for a force of destroyer transports to unload reinforcements on Cape Esperance. Despite that, Second Savo was our first true victory since Makassar Strait, and a welcome morale boost. But more importantly, as far as the IJN was concerned, venturing into the now named Iron Bottom Sound without a significant heavy force was off the table. Instead, they would focus on air superiority and landing more troops on the island. And of course, they still had a few aircraft carriers…
SEPTEMBER 17 1942
D+7
0550 HOURS
Getting up way too damn early. A military tradition as old as time. It was a good thing I was nicely adjusted to our normal night shift, and didn't have to worry about such things. However, Lieutenant Briggs did.
I found the young Marine officer in VMSB-141's ready tent, near Henderson's dirt runway, already going over the morning's intel and preparing a briefing for the squadron's CO.
"Morning Leftenant."
He glanced up from his papers. "Oh. Captain Windsor. Good morning." He replied, with a following yawn. He wiped his eyes before meeting my gaze. "You have something for me?"
With a nod, I plunked down my own AAR on his desk. "Gave the Nips a right bashing last night." I smiled, "And may I just say, stellar bloody work. You got their numbers dead on."
His eyes widened. "I did?"
I nodded again. "Five cruisers, ten odd destroyers."
He scooped up my AAR and began leafing through. "You engaged them? How did that go?"
"We got the drop up on the bastards. Ambushed them at point-blank. Three cruisers and five destroyers sunk or crippled." I replied. "Odds are there's a sitting duck or two out there for you flyboys to finish off."
"Any losses?"
I shook my head. "Minor damage."
A grin split his face. "Great. I'll get the gears turning then. Those Japs ain't gonna sink themselves."
"I look forward to the result." I replied, turning to leave. "See you tonight, Leftenant."
"Will do ma'am."
I yawned as I returned to our camp. It'd been a long night, and I was about ready to get some sleep. Sometimes I quite wished I could just leave my rigging on, and never tire.
I was nearly to my tent when I spotted Howe sitting alone by the campfire, slowly stoking it. She looked as tired as I felt. With a sigh, I changed my course, and set myself down beside her. "You alight sis?"
She glanced over. "Oh, hey Wales."
"So, how was that for your first proper fight?" I asked.
My little sister mulled that over for a moment before replying, "Is it always like that?"
"Heh." I chuckled, "Not in the slightest. That has to be one of the shortest, most one sided engagements ever."
"Yeah." Another voice spoke, both of us glancing up to see Encounter joining us. "I think Admiral Nelson 'imself would be proud."
I blinked. "Surely not. That was hardly a battle worth comparing to Trafalgar."
The destroyer smiled as she took a seat. "Sure, but it was just as one sided."
I shrugged, "True, I suppose. I can only hope we get a true Trafalgar at some point. Would do a lot to shorten this war if we can sink a few battleships."
"Do you think they'll send battleships at us?" Howe asked, almost giddy at the prospect. Oh to be young and naive again.
"I hope not." I bit my lip, "But they have two choices. Give up on Guadalcanal, or come at us with everything they have. Unless I really bugger things up and get us ambushed, cruisers and destroyers are not nearly enough to deal with the two of us." I nodded at Ennie, "Especially with experienced destroyers and cruisers backing us up."
"Let 'em come!" My sister grinned, "We'll send the wankers to the bottom of the sound."
That got a glare out of me. "Don't get cocky, Howe. I said something similar before Denmark Strait. And look how that bloody turned out." My sister froze, a 'oh' look on her face. "Lessons of war are learned in blood. And I've learned to never, ever underestimate the enemy, or overestimate yourself."
My sister looked suitably chastised. "Oh. Right. Sorry Wales."
I shook my head, "No need to apologise. You're still learning. Just always remember: This is a deadly serious business we're in. One mistake, and you'll be on the bottom. Take the enemy seriously, follow my lead and we'll make it through this."
Ennie nodded. "Well said Wales." She smiled at my sister. "And don't worry too much, Howe. Us destroyers are here for a reason."
I smiled back, and ruffled the pinkette's hair. "And you're damn good escorts at that."
"Waaaaaales." Destroyers were too cute.
I had to stifle a yawn, and stretched. "Ohhhh, I'm tired. If you'll excuse me girls, I'm going to go get some sleep."
SEPTEMBER 20 1942
D+10
0130 HOURS
Another night, another boring watch stood, or sat really, on Savo Island.
As was tradition, we were sat in the sand around a small fire, killing time until either the sun came up and the Marines' aircraft took over our watch, or the Japs decided to show up, again.
But, in a way, the boredom was good. We'd always had lots of downtime, but it was rarely spent as a full group, with all twelve of us. And sitting here, around the fire as we were, there really was nothing better to do than talk. Talk generally led to bonding, and bonding made us a better fighting force.
At the moment, it was our three cruisers leading the conversation. Perth had just told some joke, and Boise had spoken next. "That reminds me. Remember Marblehead? The other American CL in Soerabaja?"
Our resident Aussie nodded, so Boise continued, "Well back before the war, she had a ship's cat, Jimmie. I swear that stupid fuzzball could see us. He'd follow us around when any of us were on her hull, and have a nap right beside you once you'd sat down somewhere."
Hou lit up. "I remember that little bastard! The first time I was on Marb's hull he walked right over and stared at me. I tried to pet him, but I just phased through, as always."
"What ever happened to Marblehead?" Perth asked.
"She got bombed running convoys just before Java Sea." Houston replied, "Went back stateside for repairs. She should be just about finished by now."
"I wonder how De Ruyter's doing." Boise muttered.
"I've kept in contact with her." Perth spoke up, "She hasn't said so directly in her letters, but I think she's still in Columbo."
"What about 'Pulse?" Houston asked.
That was my cue to enter the conversation. "Last letter was from two months ago. She's in the Med. She says hi to everyone by the way."
Hou smiled, "Tell her hi back. It's louder without her around to keep the destroyers in check."
Ennie and Jup, who were both listening in as they roasted marshmallows, glared at her. "Hey! We're not that bad." Ennie protested.
Hou snorted, "Your sisters are."
The youngest E-class opened her mouth to retort, and then paused. She huffed a moment later and crossed her arms in a pout. "I 'ate that I can't refute that."
I chuckled at the byplay. "God, incredible isn't it? It feels like I've known you girls for my entire life. But it's only been nine months."
That got a round of agreement and nods, at least from the majority of us that had originally met back in Soerabaja.
"DEI feels like years ago, doesn't it?" Boise muttered.
Hou elbowed her with a smirk, "Is that nostalgia I hear?"
Our resident battle junkie shrugged, "We got into some awesome fights."
"I wish I'd been there." Hammann butted into the conversation, "You were the determined underdogs who fought like hell and turned it around."
"Ha!" Houston scoffed. "Sure kiddo. Do you know how demoralizing it was, being there? Knowing we were outgunned and only buying time until they finally gave up and decided to throw their flattops at us? Fuck, I'm amazed we did as well as we did."
"Damn right." I nodded.
Houston continued, "This is war. There's nothing exciting or glamorous about what we do. The propaganda fuckers may turn us into big damn heroes. And the history books will remember us. But at the end of the day we are here to kill or be killed, and if you treat this as a game the Japs will put you on the bottom of the sound before you know they're there." She glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes. "I get it. Battle's a hell of a rush. But unlike the steel hulls, none of us get second chances." She met my eyes, "Am I right, Wales?"
"Took the words straight out of my mouth. You're my second for a reason Hou." I smiled, "After all, you're the only other sane one here."
That got another round of smiles and chuckles from everyone.
Ennie spoke up next, once everyone had stopped laughing. "On another topic, you remember your world cruise promise, Wales?"
I nodded, "Of course."
She glanced around and gestured around, "Well, why don't we bring everyone too?"
"What are you two talking about?" Perth asked.
I spoke up. "I promised Ennie we'd go around the world for fun after the war." I glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes. "And she has a point. Why don't we all go?"
Boise's eyes lit up. "That sounds great! Hou and I could show you around Newport News, where we grew up."
Hou also looked interested. "We could introduce them to Tenacious and Bully."
"Tugs?" Jup asked.
The two Yanks nodded. "Yup."
Perth spoke next with a smirk, "I'd suggest visiting Australia, but we've already been."
"I wanna visit London." Electra said. "I don't think anyone I know s'been up the Thames."
"What about Paris?" The normally quiet Sims spoke up, "I'd love to go to Paris."
Andie was rolling her eyes, "That's just because it's the 'Centre of Fashion', sis."
The posh American destroyer huffed, "Well, it is."
I couldn't help my amused smile. I loved my girls. And seeing the world with them sounded like a wonderful time. "Guess we have something to look forward to, girls. We'll have to draw up an itinerary when the war's over."
Ennie was beaming, "Well, we just gotta finish the Japs off all the sooner then."
SEPTEMBER 21 1942
D+11
0900 HOURS
Finally, after eleven days, the bunker containing the repair baths and our quarters was complete, if lacking the amenities we'd brought along. Lieutenant Commander Hugan's SeaBees had done stellar work to have it done so quickly, though no doubt having one of us along to help using our absurd strength at all times was a big help. To no one's surprise, Lieutenant Commander Hugan looked rather satisfied with his SeaBees' work as he gave John, Houston and I the tour.
The entrance was down a flight of steps beside the bunker that descended into the ground. On the right side at the bottom was a big heavy steel door, which opened into a communal space, and its attached small kitchen area, currently just bare concrete. Leading off of the communal space were six wood doors, each of which lead into a very small room with a bunk bed for two.
Opposite the entrance was another stairwell, which led down to the second floor, which contained the repair bath itself. The floor was bare concrete, with six hot tub-like pools built into the floor, all of which were hooked up to a proper pump, heater and filter system to cycle and heat the heavily mineralised water. Leading off from the main pool area was a large communal shower room, and our bathrooms. Both of which again hadn't been furnished, instead the piping for all the appliances was plain to see on the walls.
Having finished our short tour, I turned to Lieutenant Commander Hugan where we stood on the pool deck.
"Bloody brilliant work."
He smiled. "Thank you Ma'am."
John nodded as well. "Colour me impressed Lieutenant Commander. This is excellent for only a week and a half." He turned to me, "How long until you have all your 'amenities' installed?"
"Shouldn't take the fairies more than a day or two, Sir." I reported.
"Perfect."
SEPTEMBER 22 1942
D+12
1754 HOURS
"Ahhhhhhhh." I sighed contentedly as warm water ran over me. The shower was heavenly. Especially after accumulating over two weeks of sweat and grime. After the last two weeks of roughing it, a nice warm shower was just what I needed.
I took my time to wash out my hair and scrub away the sweat, before turning the shower off and grabbing a towel. It was amazing what a good shower could do. I felt the best I'd had in weeks. Dried and clothed, I ascended the stairs to the mouthwatering smell of cooking meat.
Compared to the day before, the communal area had been transformed. The girls had produced a rug for the floor, couches, chairs, and a coffee and dining table. There was a pot with flowers in one corner, and someone had hung up a few paintings and photos on the walls. The small kitchen area had been furnished with an electric stove, oven, fridge for cold drinks, and proper countertops. Not to mention the air conditioning unit I'd installed on the vent near the ceiling. That damn thing had cost me an arm and a leg. But bugger the tropics. The comfortable seventy degrees it kept our bunker at was absolutely worth it.
Though at the moment it was switched off, and the door wide open. I emerged into the morning sun to see my girls chatting away with two dozen men. We'd decided to thank the SeaBees for their hard work with a barbecue, and a chance to use the showers, just as I'd promised Hugan a week and a half ago. Sims, Perth, Ennie and several of the men were manning the barbecues, and now that I was done with my own shower, Hugan began to send his men down in small groups for their own.
Hell knew they'd earned it.
Speaking of Hugan, I found myself near the engineer as we watched the myriad of meats cook. "Everything good Captain?" He asked.
I nodded. "Very. I think the rest of our stay on this island will be as comfortable as it can be, thanks to you. If you or any of your men ever need use of it, please, just ask."
"Will do ma'am."
Yes. Running water, and electricity. The staples of modern civilization. I'd never thought we'd have such comfort on this damned island.
In war, overclaiming and misidentification is a fact of life. We believed we'd crippled or sank three cruisers, and five destroyers. As it turned out, we'd actually sunk Mikuma, and crippled Mogami, who come morning was then finished off by bombers from Henderson, while Sazuya was damaged and managed to limp away. Two Japanese destroyers also went to the bottom. Less than half of the five destroyers we'd claimed.
However, unknown to us, the cruisers had been cover for a force of destroyer transports to unload reinforcements on Cape Esperance. Despite that, Second Savo was our first true victory since Makassar Strait, and a welcome morale boost. But more importantly, as far as the IJN was concerned, venturing into the now named Iron Bottom Sound without a significant heavy force was off the table. Instead, they would focus on air superiority and landing more troops on the island. And of course, they still had a few aircraft carriers…
SEPTEMBER 17 1942
D+7
0550 HOURS
Getting up way too damn early. A military tradition as old as time. It was a good thing I was nicely adjusted to our normal night shift, and didn't have to worry about such things. However, Lieutenant Briggs did.
I found the young Marine officer in VMSB-141's ready tent, near Henderson's dirt runway, already going over the morning's intel and preparing a briefing for the squadron's CO.
"Morning Leftenant."
He glanced up from his papers. "Oh. Captain Windsor. Good morning." He replied, with a following yawn. He wiped his eyes before meeting my gaze. "You have something for me?"
With a nod, I plunked down my own AAR on his desk. "Gave the Nips a right bashing last night." I smiled, "And may I just say, stellar bloody work. You got their numbers dead on."
His eyes widened. "I did?"
I nodded again. "Five cruisers, ten odd destroyers."
He scooped up my AAR and began leafing through. "You engaged them? How did that go?"
"We got the drop up on the bastards. Ambushed them at point-blank. Three cruisers and five destroyers sunk or crippled." I replied. "Odds are there's a sitting duck or two out there for you flyboys to finish off."
"Any losses?"
I shook my head. "Minor damage."
A grin split his face. "Great. I'll get the gears turning then. Those Japs ain't gonna sink themselves."
"I look forward to the result." I replied, turning to leave. "See you tonight, Leftenant."
"Will do ma'am."
I yawned as I returned to our camp. It'd been a long night, and I was about ready to get some sleep. Sometimes I quite wished I could just leave my rigging on, and never tire.
I was nearly to my tent when I spotted Howe sitting alone by the campfire, slowly stoking it. She looked as tired as I felt. With a sigh, I changed my course, and set myself down beside her. "You alight sis?"
She glanced over. "Oh, hey Wales."
"So, how was that for your first proper fight?" I asked.
My little sister mulled that over for a moment before replying, "Is it always like that?"
"Heh." I chuckled, "Not in the slightest. That has to be one of the shortest, most one sided engagements ever."
"Yeah." Another voice spoke, both of us glancing up to see Encounter joining us. "I think Admiral Nelson 'imself would be proud."
I blinked. "Surely not. That was hardly a battle worth comparing to Trafalgar."
The destroyer smiled as she took a seat. "Sure, but it was just as one sided."
I shrugged, "True, I suppose. I can only hope we get a true Trafalgar at some point. Would do a lot to shorten this war if we can sink a few battleships."
"Do you think they'll send battleships at us?" Howe asked, almost giddy at the prospect. Oh to be young and naive again.
"I hope not." I bit my lip, "But they have two choices. Give up on Guadalcanal, or come at us with everything they have. Unless I really bugger things up and get us ambushed, cruisers and destroyers are not nearly enough to deal with the two of us." I nodded at Ennie, "Especially with experienced destroyers and cruisers backing us up."
"Let 'em come!" My sister grinned, "We'll send the wankers to the bottom of the sound."
That got a glare out of me. "Don't get cocky, Howe. I said something similar before Denmark Strait. And look how that bloody turned out." My sister froze, a 'oh' look on her face. "Lessons of war are learned in blood. And I've learned to never, ever underestimate the enemy, or overestimate yourself."
My sister looked suitably chastised. "Oh. Right. Sorry Wales."
I shook my head, "No need to apologise. You're still learning. Just always remember: This is a deadly serious business we're in. One mistake, and you'll be on the bottom. Take the enemy seriously, follow my lead and we'll make it through this."
Ennie nodded. "Well said Wales." She smiled at my sister. "And don't worry too much, Howe. Us destroyers are here for a reason."
I smiled back, and ruffled the pinkette's hair. "And you're damn good escorts at that."
"Waaaaaales." Destroyers were too cute.
I had to stifle a yawn, and stretched. "Ohhhh, I'm tired. If you'll excuse me girls, I'm going to go get some sleep."
SEPTEMBER 20 1942
D+10
0130 HOURS
Another night, another boring watch stood, or sat really, on Savo Island.
As was tradition, we were sat in the sand around a small fire, killing time until either the sun came up and the Marines' aircraft took over our watch, or the Japs decided to show up, again.
But, in a way, the boredom was good. We'd always had lots of downtime, but it was rarely spent as a full group, with all twelve of us. And sitting here, around the fire as we were, there really was nothing better to do than talk. Talk generally led to bonding, and bonding made us a better fighting force.
At the moment, it was our three cruisers leading the conversation. Perth had just told some joke, and Boise had spoken next. "That reminds me. Remember Marblehead? The other American CL in Soerabaja?"
Our resident Aussie nodded, so Boise continued, "Well back before the war, she had a ship's cat, Jimmie. I swear that stupid fuzzball could see us. He'd follow us around when any of us were on her hull, and have a nap right beside you once you'd sat down somewhere."
Hou lit up. "I remember that little bastard! The first time I was on Marb's hull he walked right over and stared at me. I tried to pet him, but I just phased through, as always."
"What ever happened to Marblehead?" Perth asked.
"She got bombed running convoys just before Java Sea." Houston replied, "Went back stateside for repairs. She should be just about finished by now."
"I wonder how De Ruyter's doing." Boise muttered.
"I've kept in contact with her." Perth spoke up, "She hasn't said so directly in her letters, but I think she's still in Columbo."
"What about 'Pulse?" Houston asked.
That was my cue to enter the conversation. "Last letter was from two months ago. She's in the Med. She says hi to everyone by the way."
Hou smiled, "Tell her hi back. It's louder without her around to keep the destroyers in check."
Ennie and Jup, who were both listening in as they roasted marshmallows, glared at her. "Hey! We're not that bad." Ennie protested.
Hou snorted, "Your sisters are."
The youngest E-class opened her mouth to retort, and then paused. She huffed a moment later and crossed her arms in a pout. "I 'ate that I can't refute that."
I chuckled at the byplay. "God, incredible isn't it? It feels like I've known you girls for my entire life. But it's only been nine months."
That got a round of agreement and nods, at least from the majority of us that had originally met back in Soerabaja.
"DEI feels like years ago, doesn't it?" Boise muttered.
Hou elbowed her with a smirk, "Is that nostalgia I hear?"
Our resident battle junkie shrugged, "We got into some awesome fights."
"I wish I'd been there." Hammann butted into the conversation, "You were the determined underdogs who fought like hell and turned it around."
"Ha!" Houston scoffed. "Sure kiddo. Do you know how demoralizing it was, being there? Knowing we were outgunned and only buying time until they finally gave up and decided to throw their flattops at us? Fuck, I'm amazed we did as well as we did."
"Damn right." I nodded.
Houston continued, "This is war. There's nothing exciting or glamorous about what we do. The propaganda fuckers may turn us into big damn heroes. And the history books will remember us. But at the end of the day we are here to kill or be killed, and if you treat this as a game the Japs will put you on the bottom of the sound before you know they're there." She glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes. "I get it. Battle's a hell of a rush. But unlike the steel hulls, none of us get second chances." She met my eyes, "Am I right, Wales?"
"Took the words straight out of my mouth. You're my second for a reason Hou." I smiled, "After all, you're the only other sane one here."
That got another round of smiles and chuckles from everyone.
Ennie spoke up next, once everyone had stopped laughing. "On another topic, you remember your world cruise promise, Wales?"
I nodded, "Of course."
She glanced around and gestured around, "Well, why don't we bring everyone too?"
"What are you two talking about?" Perth asked.
I spoke up. "I promised Ennie we'd go around the world for fun after the war." I glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes. "And she has a point. Why don't we all go?"
Boise's eyes lit up. "That sounds great! Hou and I could show you around Newport News, where we grew up."
Hou also looked interested. "We could introduce them to Tenacious and Bully."
"Tugs?" Jup asked.
The two Yanks nodded. "Yup."
Perth spoke next with a smirk, "I'd suggest visiting Australia, but we've already been."
"I wanna visit London." Electra said. "I don't think anyone I know s'been up the Thames."
"What about Paris?" The normally quiet Sims spoke up, "I'd love to go to Paris."
Andie was rolling her eyes, "That's just because it's the 'Centre of Fashion', sis."
The posh American destroyer huffed, "Well, it is."
I couldn't help my amused smile. I loved my girls. And seeing the world with them sounded like a wonderful time. "Guess we have something to look forward to, girls. We'll have to draw up an itinerary when the war's over."
Ennie was beaming, "Well, we just gotta finish the Japs off all the sooner then."
SEPTEMBER 21 1942
D+11
0900 HOURS
Finally, after eleven days, the bunker containing the repair baths and our quarters was complete, if lacking the amenities we'd brought along. Lieutenant Commander Hugan's SeaBees had done stellar work to have it done so quickly, though no doubt having one of us along to help using our absurd strength at all times was a big help. To no one's surprise, Lieutenant Commander Hugan looked rather satisfied with his SeaBees' work as he gave John, Houston and I the tour.
The entrance was down a flight of steps beside the bunker that descended into the ground. On the right side at the bottom was a big heavy steel door, which opened into a communal space, and its attached small kitchen area, currently just bare concrete. Leading off of the communal space were six wood doors, each of which lead into a very small room with a bunk bed for two.
Opposite the entrance was another stairwell, which led down to the second floor, which contained the repair bath itself. The floor was bare concrete, with six hot tub-like pools built into the floor, all of which were hooked up to a proper pump, heater and filter system to cycle and heat the heavily mineralised water. Leading off from the main pool area was a large communal shower room, and our bathrooms. Both of which again hadn't been furnished, instead the piping for all the appliances was plain to see on the walls.
Having finished our short tour, I turned to Lieutenant Commander Hugan where we stood on the pool deck.
"Bloody brilliant work."
He smiled. "Thank you Ma'am."
John nodded as well. "Colour me impressed Lieutenant Commander. This is excellent for only a week and a half." He turned to me, "How long until you have all your 'amenities' installed?"
"Shouldn't take the fairies more than a day or two, Sir." I reported.
"Perfect."
SEPTEMBER 22 1942
D+12
1754 HOURS
"Ahhhhhhhh." I sighed contentedly as warm water ran over me. The shower was heavenly. Especially after accumulating over two weeks of sweat and grime. After the last two weeks of roughing it, a nice warm shower was just what I needed.
I took my time to wash out my hair and scrub away the sweat, before turning the shower off and grabbing a towel. It was amazing what a good shower could do. I felt the best I'd had in weeks. Dried and clothed, I ascended the stairs to the mouthwatering smell of cooking meat.
Compared to the day before, the communal area had been transformed. The girls had produced a rug for the floor, couches, chairs, and a coffee and dining table. There was a pot with flowers in one corner, and someone had hung up a few paintings and photos on the walls. The small kitchen area had been furnished with an electric stove, oven, fridge for cold drinks, and proper countertops. Not to mention the air conditioning unit I'd installed on the vent near the ceiling. That damn thing had cost me an arm and a leg. But bugger the tropics. The comfortable seventy degrees it kept our bunker at was absolutely worth it.
Though at the moment it was switched off, and the door wide open. I emerged into the morning sun to see my girls chatting away with two dozen men. We'd decided to thank the SeaBees for their hard work with a barbecue, and a chance to use the showers, just as I'd promised Hugan a week and a half ago. Sims, Perth, Ennie and several of the men were manning the barbecues, and now that I was done with my own shower, Hugan began to send his men down in small groups for their own.
Hell knew they'd earned it.
Speaking of Hugan, I found myself near the engineer as we watched the myriad of meats cook. "Everything good Captain?" He asked.
I nodded. "Very. I think the rest of our stay on this island will be as comfortable as it can be, thanks to you. If you or any of your men ever need use of it, please, just ask."
"Will do ma'am."
Yes. Running water, and electricity. The staples of modern civilization. I'd never thought we'd have such comfort on this damned island.
Chapter 50: Anticipation
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 50: Anticipation
After two weeks of roughing it in tents, washing in sea water, and doing our 'business' in a literal hole in the ground, having an air conditioned bunker, lights, and running water was heaven. It really was amazing how much difference a warm shower and proper bed made to one's mental resilience. And I would need it. God, how I would need it.
SEPTEMBER 30 1942
D+20
0720 HOURS
Another day, another quiet night on Savo. I was honestly beginning to wonder if the Nips had given up after 2nd Savo.
The sun had just risen as I walked the short distance between our bunker and John's command post. Unlike us, he didn't get the luxury of a proper bunker with electricity and water, though I'd've been cruel to deny him access to our showers and toilets. Though at strict times of course. There wouldn't be any 'accidents' on my watch. Instead, he, Lieutenant Anderson and his two new aides (Who I still hadn't gotten the names of), had a more traditional dugout the SeaBees had built in a mere day.
I soon arrived and descended into the dirt and wood dugout. "Morning, John."
My former captain glanced up from his small desk. "Ah, good morning Wales. Quiet night."
I nodded. "The usual." I handed over a paper report to him as I did every morning. "Any word from on high? From where I'm standing it seems as if the Nips have given up."
John took the paper and quickly leafed through. "The spooks assure me they haven't." He put down my report and pulled another paper from his desk, "Here."
I took it, and quickly skimmed the contents. Blinking, I asked, "What does 'unknown activity on the Slot' mean?"
"Exactly that." He replied. "Mostly RDF picking up near nightly transmissions near the eastern end."
My brow furrowed, "Coded?" John nodded, so I continued, "Have we cracked their codes?"
He shrugged at that. "No idea. Above our clearance."
"Hmmm. Fair enough." I muttered, walking over to the other big table in the dugout. This one with a map of the Solomons laid out. "What are they up to?"
John shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
I grimaced. "I hate knowing they're up to something, but not knowing what."
John nodded, "You and me both." He stood and joined me at the map. "How are you holding up?"
I smiled at his concern. "Better, now that we've a victory to our name, and actual beds."
He nodded, "Little comforts go a long way."
We fell into silence for a few moments, both of us staring at the map. As it began to drag on I glanced over at John. To my surprise, his eyes had grown distant. "John?"
He started, "Oh, yes?"
"Are you alright?"
He stared at me for a few moments. Then his eyes dropped, and he sighed. "I'm fine. It's just hard, sending you out and not being able to join you."
"You miss combat." I stated.
He nodded. "Somewhat. But the worst is the feeling that I'm sending you to die."
My eyes widened, "John…"
He gave a self deprecating laugh. "Not much of an officer am I? Not leading from the front but sitting in the back behind a desk, letting a bunch of girls who look like they aren't even out of grade school to do the fighting."
"And what does that make all the Admirals and Generals back home then?" I shot back. "Are they cowards?"
His eyes fell. "No, I suppose not…"
"John, look at me." His almost ashamed gaze rose to meet mine. "You are not a coward. The fact that you still want to go back despite what you've seen is all the proof one needs of that."
"Wales…" He muttered, but I'd built up steam and just kept going.
"You couldn't see me, but I was on the bridge at your side for the whole of Denmark Strait. That shell… You remember that horrid moment? The blood and the screams still pop up in my dreams now and again."
The haunted look on John's face was now doubt mirrored on my own, as we both re-lived those few moments in our heads. "In mine too." He gave a slow nod. "Herbert's finger landed on my…" He trailed off, shuddering at the memory.
I took a moment to pull myself from the memories, and continued. "You went through that, and you still want to go back?" I gave a small smile, "That's bravery John."
When my eyes met his next, they were glistening with tears. "I… Thank you, Wales. I…"
I didn't let him finish his sentence, instead stepping forward, and pulling him into a hug. His own arms soon wrapped around me. "Thank you Wales. Thank you." He said, fighting back tears. "I think I had to hear that."
"Anytime."
A moment later we separated, John wiping his eyes. "Better?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Much. Thank you."
"Let me know if you ever just need to talk." I said, giving my best supportive smile. At least until an involuntary yawn caught me.
"Tired?" He asked.
"Of course." I muttered as a reply. I straightened up, "If that will be all Sir, I'll go get some sleep."
He smiled. "Don't let me stop you. Dismissed. Have a good sleep. I'll see you tonight."
"See you tonight."
2012 HOURS
Being temporarily nocturnal did have its upsides. The main one being the laxer schedule which meant that I could consistently get a full ten hours of sleep. And it wasn't bad sleep either. I'd brought along a nice soft mattress back in Sydney for my bunk, as well as a nice fluffy comforter and sheets. Throw the fact that our bunker had proper A/C?
Mmmmmmm. Oh my bed was just so nice and comfy. It was honestly sometimes hard to climb from the sheets and back into the real world, with all its stress and violence. Not that I had a choice.
But I was soon up, as always, and headed downstairs for my morning, or rather evening, shower. Several of the girls were already scrubbing themselves when I entered the communal shower. It was bare concrete, with a few drains in the middle, and Hugan's SeaBees had left eight spots near the ceiling where we'd installed our showerheads. There was no privacy of course.
After a good scrub, I found myself lounging in our living room on the couch Electra had brought along. The delicious smell of cooking bacon, toast and eggs filled the room from the kitchenette, where Sims and Ennie were cooking us all breakfast.
I found my eyes idly wandering the room as more of my girls woke up, and joined us in the living space. They soon landed on Jup, sitting on a nice armchair in the corner. She had a large sketchpad in her hands. Every few moments, she'd glance up, and then go back to drawing.
"What are you drawing, Jup?"
She started, and glanced at me. "Oh, uuuuuhhh. Nothing."
My brow raised. "You're doing an awful lot of sketching for 'nothing.'"
She sighed, "Fine. I'm sketching you."
I blinked. "Me?"
She shrugged, "You were there, and I wanted to draw."
"Can I see?"
She waffled for a moment before sighing. "Fine."
She threw the book across the small space, where I caught it. Flipping it around, I discovered a relatively detailed sketch of my face. "Oh wow, this is quite good, Jup."
The J-class positively lit up, "You think so?"
I nodded, "You could be a professional artist after the war."
Jup was beaming now. "Really? Wow, thanks Wales."
I grinned, "I suppose I should add the Louvre to our list of post-war destinations?"
Jup froze, smile giving way to surprise. "Oh. Oh wow. You're right. I can actually visit there now."
"There are many things to see when you aren't restricted to the sea." I replied, before facepalming a moment later when I realised what I'd just said.
Sims giggled from the small kitchen. "I thought Andie was the poet and songwriter?"
Said destroyer just happened to be climbing the stairs, hair still wet from her shower. "Damn right I am!"
That got a round of laughter from everyone, as most of us were now in the room, waiting for our food. Express flopped down next to me on the couch. "Anywhere you want to go after the war?"
A small smirk appeared on her face. "I wanna go to some Grand Prix. Maybe even get into motor racing myself."
Electra, who'd just joined us on the couch, looked intrigued. "Motor racin'? Like, racin' cars?"
Express nodded excitedly, "Yeah! Before the war there was talk of standardizin' a European racing championship. I'd love to go to a race! 'ell, I'd love to drive in one!"
I ruffled her hair. "Fancy yourself a race car driver do you?"
She turned to me, as if in realization. "Wait, you know the future! What's Grad Prix racing like?"
"Grand Prix?" I blinked, trying to dredge up old memories. "I think my grandfather took me to the British Grand Prix once. That would have been in the nineties." I rubbed my chin in thought, "Grand Prix racing… Yeah, that would be F1."
Express leaned in, obviously interested. "F1?"
"Formula 1." I explained, "I don't know much, I wasn't a fan or anything." I chuckled, "But can't be British and not have heard of it I suppose. It's a big racing series, super famous, very fast."
"When did it start?" She asked.
I shook my head, "Don't look at me. I don't bloody know. I was never actually interested in it. Like I said, I only know about it because it was so damn big."
Express' face fell. "Oh. Well, guess I just 'ave ta' get into it."
"Heh," Electra chuckled, "That sounds fun. Maybe I'll join you."
"Just don't crash any more cars into brick buildings?" I teased.
Express' hands snapped into the air. "One time!"
SEPTEMBER 31 1942
D+21
0703 HOURS
It'd been another boring night spent on Savo. As was becoming usual, we had a barbecue for dinner, as we had to eat slightly more than normal to make up for the fuel burned sailing to and from the Savo. Ennie and Sims had made it very clear that it was far easier to cook enough food for all of us to refill on our four assorted barbecues, rather than the much smaller kitchen in the bunker.
I was sitting on a log, just finishing my dinner when John showed up. "Morning, Captain."
I swallowed the roasted carrot I'd been chewing on. "Sir? I was just about to bring my morning report…"
He gave me a look. "Did anything happen?"
I blinked, "No?"
"Irrelevant then. Don't bother." He replied, "General Vandegrift wants to see you in his CP when you can."
Oh. Oh, that couldn't be good. "Did he say why?"
John shook his head, "No."
I perused my lips. "Alright." I gestured at the food still on my plate. "I'll polish this off quick, then head over."
"Good." He nodded. "Report to me after your meeting."
"Yes Sir."
General Vandegrift's command post was in the same place as always, and it didn't take long for me to arrive. The man himself was at his desk as I entered. "General. You wanted to see me?"
At my voice, he took a moment to finish something before standing. His eyes met mine, and he gestured me over to his map table. "How is the naval situation, Captain Windsor?"
"Quiet, Sir." I replied. "Nips haven't come back after the bashing we gave them."
He grunted. "Good."
"If I may ask, how are things on land?" I asked.
"Stable, for now." He replied. "Nothing major. A few skirmishes. But the last few days have seen more Jap activity. We've turned back several proper probing assaults." He pointed to the map at several spots outside the perimeter. "I've got scouts and listening posts attempting to keep track of the Japs, but in this terrain it's easier said than done."
"Is an update why you called me here, sir?" I asked.
"No." He spoke. "I believe an all out assault is coming. Tonight." The gruff Marine General turned to me. "So, I am requesting your assistance."
After two weeks of roughing it in tents, washing in sea water, and doing our 'business' in a literal hole in the ground, having an air conditioned bunker, lights, and running water was heaven. It really was amazing how much difference a warm shower and proper bed made to one's mental resilience. And I would need it. God, how I would need it.
SEPTEMBER 30 1942
D+20
0720 HOURS
Another day, another quiet night on Savo. I was honestly beginning to wonder if the Nips had given up after 2nd Savo.
The sun had just risen as I walked the short distance between our bunker and John's command post. Unlike us, he didn't get the luxury of a proper bunker with electricity and water, though I'd've been cruel to deny him access to our showers and toilets. Though at strict times of course. There wouldn't be any 'accidents' on my watch. Instead, he, Lieutenant Anderson and his two new aides (Who I still hadn't gotten the names of), had a more traditional dugout the SeaBees had built in a mere day.
I soon arrived and descended into the dirt and wood dugout. "Morning, John."
My former captain glanced up from his small desk. "Ah, good morning Wales. Quiet night."
I nodded. "The usual." I handed over a paper report to him as I did every morning. "Any word from on high? From where I'm standing it seems as if the Nips have given up."
John took the paper and quickly leafed through. "The spooks assure me they haven't." He put down my report and pulled another paper from his desk, "Here."
I took it, and quickly skimmed the contents. Blinking, I asked, "What does 'unknown activity on the Slot' mean?"
"Exactly that." He replied. "Mostly RDF picking up near nightly transmissions near the eastern end."
My brow furrowed, "Coded?" John nodded, so I continued, "Have we cracked their codes?"
He shrugged at that. "No idea. Above our clearance."
"Hmmm. Fair enough." I muttered, walking over to the other big table in the dugout. This one with a map of the Solomons laid out. "What are they up to?"
John shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
I grimaced. "I hate knowing they're up to something, but not knowing what."
John nodded, "You and me both." He stood and joined me at the map. "How are you holding up?"
I smiled at his concern. "Better, now that we've a victory to our name, and actual beds."
He nodded, "Little comforts go a long way."
We fell into silence for a few moments, both of us staring at the map. As it began to drag on I glanced over at John. To my surprise, his eyes had grown distant. "John?"
He started, "Oh, yes?"
"Are you alright?"
He stared at me for a few moments. Then his eyes dropped, and he sighed. "I'm fine. It's just hard, sending you out and not being able to join you."
"You miss combat." I stated.
He nodded. "Somewhat. But the worst is the feeling that I'm sending you to die."
My eyes widened, "John…"
He gave a self deprecating laugh. "Not much of an officer am I? Not leading from the front but sitting in the back behind a desk, letting a bunch of girls who look like they aren't even out of grade school to do the fighting."
"And what does that make all the Admirals and Generals back home then?" I shot back. "Are they cowards?"
His eyes fell. "No, I suppose not…"
"John, look at me." His almost ashamed gaze rose to meet mine. "You are not a coward. The fact that you still want to go back despite what you've seen is all the proof one needs of that."
"Wales…" He muttered, but I'd built up steam and just kept going.
"You couldn't see me, but I was on the bridge at your side for the whole of Denmark Strait. That shell… You remember that horrid moment? The blood and the screams still pop up in my dreams now and again."
The haunted look on John's face was now doubt mirrored on my own, as we both re-lived those few moments in our heads. "In mine too." He gave a slow nod. "Herbert's finger landed on my…" He trailed off, shuddering at the memory.
I took a moment to pull myself from the memories, and continued. "You went through that, and you still want to go back?" I gave a small smile, "That's bravery John."
When my eyes met his next, they were glistening with tears. "I… Thank you, Wales. I…"
I didn't let him finish his sentence, instead stepping forward, and pulling him into a hug. His own arms soon wrapped around me. "Thank you Wales. Thank you." He said, fighting back tears. "I think I had to hear that."
"Anytime."
A moment later we separated, John wiping his eyes. "Better?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Much. Thank you."
"Let me know if you ever just need to talk." I said, giving my best supportive smile. At least until an involuntary yawn caught me.
"Tired?" He asked.
"Of course." I muttered as a reply. I straightened up, "If that will be all Sir, I'll go get some sleep."
He smiled. "Don't let me stop you. Dismissed. Have a good sleep. I'll see you tonight."
"See you tonight."
2012 HOURS
Being temporarily nocturnal did have its upsides. The main one being the laxer schedule which meant that I could consistently get a full ten hours of sleep. And it wasn't bad sleep either. I'd brought along a nice soft mattress back in Sydney for my bunk, as well as a nice fluffy comforter and sheets. Throw the fact that our bunker had proper A/C?
Mmmmmmm. Oh my bed was just so nice and comfy. It was honestly sometimes hard to climb from the sheets and back into the real world, with all its stress and violence. Not that I had a choice.
But I was soon up, as always, and headed downstairs for my morning, or rather evening, shower. Several of the girls were already scrubbing themselves when I entered the communal shower. It was bare concrete, with a few drains in the middle, and Hugan's SeaBees had left eight spots near the ceiling where we'd installed our showerheads. There was no privacy of course.
After a good scrub, I found myself lounging in our living room on the couch Electra had brought along. The delicious smell of cooking bacon, toast and eggs filled the room from the kitchenette, where Sims and Ennie were cooking us all breakfast.
I found my eyes idly wandering the room as more of my girls woke up, and joined us in the living space. They soon landed on Jup, sitting on a nice armchair in the corner. She had a large sketchpad in her hands. Every few moments, she'd glance up, and then go back to drawing.
"What are you drawing, Jup?"
She started, and glanced at me. "Oh, uuuuuhhh. Nothing."
My brow raised. "You're doing an awful lot of sketching for 'nothing.'"
She sighed, "Fine. I'm sketching you."
I blinked. "Me?"
She shrugged, "You were there, and I wanted to draw."
"Can I see?"
She waffled for a moment before sighing. "Fine."
She threw the book across the small space, where I caught it. Flipping it around, I discovered a relatively detailed sketch of my face. "Oh wow, this is quite good, Jup."
The J-class positively lit up, "You think so?"
I nodded, "You could be a professional artist after the war."
Jup was beaming now. "Really? Wow, thanks Wales."
I grinned, "I suppose I should add the Louvre to our list of post-war destinations?"
Jup froze, smile giving way to surprise. "Oh. Oh wow. You're right. I can actually visit there now."
"There are many things to see when you aren't restricted to the sea." I replied, before facepalming a moment later when I realised what I'd just said.
Sims giggled from the small kitchen. "I thought Andie was the poet and songwriter?"
Said destroyer just happened to be climbing the stairs, hair still wet from her shower. "Damn right I am!"
That got a round of laughter from everyone, as most of us were now in the room, waiting for our food. Express flopped down next to me on the couch. "Anywhere you want to go after the war?"
A small smirk appeared on her face. "I wanna go to some Grand Prix. Maybe even get into motor racing myself."
Electra, who'd just joined us on the couch, looked intrigued. "Motor racin'? Like, racin' cars?"
Express nodded excitedly, "Yeah! Before the war there was talk of standardizin' a European racing championship. I'd love to go to a race! 'ell, I'd love to drive in one!"
I ruffled her hair. "Fancy yourself a race car driver do you?"
She turned to me, as if in realization. "Wait, you know the future! What's Grad Prix racing like?"
"Grand Prix?" I blinked, trying to dredge up old memories. "I think my grandfather took me to the British Grand Prix once. That would have been in the nineties." I rubbed my chin in thought, "Grand Prix racing… Yeah, that would be F1."
Express leaned in, obviously interested. "F1?"
"Formula 1." I explained, "I don't know much, I wasn't a fan or anything." I chuckled, "But can't be British and not have heard of it I suppose. It's a big racing series, super famous, very fast."
"When did it start?" She asked.
I shook my head, "Don't look at me. I don't bloody know. I was never actually interested in it. Like I said, I only know about it because it was so damn big."
Express' face fell. "Oh. Well, guess I just 'ave ta' get into it."
"Heh," Electra chuckled, "That sounds fun. Maybe I'll join you."
"Just don't crash any more cars into brick buildings?" I teased.
Express' hands snapped into the air. "One time!"
SEPTEMBER 31 1942
D+21
0703 HOURS
It'd been another boring night spent on Savo. As was becoming usual, we had a barbecue for dinner, as we had to eat slightly more than normal to make up for the fuel burned sailing to and from the Savo. Ennie and Sims had made it very clear that it was far easier to cook enough food for all of us to refill on our four assorted barbecues, rather than the much smaller kitchen in the bunker.
I was sitting on a log, just finishing my dinner when John showed up. "Morning, Captain."
I swallowed the roasted carrot I'd been chewing on. "Sir? I was just about to bring my morning report…"
He gave me a look. "Did anything happen?"
I blinked, "No?"
"Irrelevant then. Don't bother." He replied, "General Vandegrift wants to see you in his CP when you can."
Oh. Oh, that couldn't be good. "Did he say why?"
John shook his head, "No."
I perused my lips. "Alright." I gestured at the food still on my plate. "I'll polish this off quick, then head over."
"Good." He nodded. "Report to me after your meeting."
"Yes Sir."
General Vandegrift's command post was in the same place as always, and it didn't take long for me to arrive. The man himself was at his desk as I entered. "General. You wanted to see me?"
At my voice, he took a moment to finish something before standing. His eyes met mine, and he gestured me over to his map table. "How is the naval situation, Captain Windsor?"
"Quiet, Sir." I replied. "Nips haven't come back after the bashing we gave them."
He grunted. "Good."
"If I may ask, how are things on land?" I asked.
"Stable, for now." He replied. "Nothing major. A few skirmishes. But the last few days have seen more Jap activity. We've turned back several proper probing assaults." He pointed to the map at several spots outside the perimeter. "I've got scouts and listening posts attempting to keep track of the Japs, but in this terrain it's easier said than done."
"Is an update why you called me here, sir?" I asked.
"No." He spoke. "I believe an all out assault is coming. Tonight." The gruff Marine General turned to me. "So, I am requesting your assistance."
KongouBongo
Always got to make time for tea-time!
- Location
- 26°9'1"N 121°22'57"E
Even the girls using their secondaries will make a mess of any attacking force on Henderson Field. Historically it was a tough fight for the US Marines and the Japanese.
Chapter 51: Blood and Mud
LtRainbowSlash
Is just here for Botegirls
- Location
- Canada
Chapter 51: Blood and Mud
General Vandegrift's request was one I'd hoped I'd never get. I was under no illusions what fighting on land would entail. War on the Sea was brutal enough. I would do anything to spare my girls from the horrors of land combat.
SEPTEMBER 31 1942
D+21
0710 HOURS
"I believe an all out assault is coming. Tonight. I am requesting your assistance."
Oh. That wasn't good. I wanted to say no, but I'd just told him how quiet the naval war had been the last few days. Instead I asked, "Why? Don't you still have the four stackers?"
"I do, but they can't cover the entire threatened frontage." He explained, seemingly annoyed. "I need just one or two of your SHIPs to draw fire and lend heavy fire support. You'd be saving a lot of marines."
"Why not offshore gunfire support?" I suggested, looking for any way to get out of this.
The General shook his head, still annoyed. It was clear he was a man not used to being questioned. "Frankly Captain, I don't trust you not to hit my men in the dark, when the Japs are ten yards to our front. Besides, the four stackers have already shown a SHIP's greatest use in a firefight is to attract fire and reduce my Marines' casualties."
I grimaced. He was right. Nighttime close support would be far too risky.
I didn't know what to do. On one hand, I just couldn't subject my girls to what had caused three of them to come back from Tulagi with thousand yard stares. But at the same time, if I refused, I'd have the Marines' blood on my hands.
I internally sighed. "I'll bring along whoever is assisting you here in the evening."
He nodded, "Good. We'll see you then."
My mind was awhirl as I walked back to our bunker, trying to find a way to save my conscience. I had two terrible choices. The Marine's lives, or my own girls' wellbeing. Neither of which I wanted to choose. But I had to. Oh how I hated War.
I was halfway back to the bunker when I paused as a thought occurred to me. There was another option, wasn't there? And as horrid as it was, it was infinitely better than leaving the Marines to die, or sending my girls to be traumatized.
I'd gladly put myself on the front to protect my girls.
I nodded. Yes, that would work. I'd just have to go myself.
The rest of the walk back was strangely calming, now that I'd made up my mind. Hot and sweaty mind, but every day on this damn island was anyway. At least we had A/C now.
But before I could return to the bunker and the wonderful cool air, I had to report to John. He was at his desk in his dugout as usual, working on some report or other. He looked up as I entered.
"What did the General want?" He asked, straight to the point.
"A SHIP or two to support his men." I replied, "He's expecting a large assault tonight."
He nodded in understanding, "Who are you sending?"
"Me."
For a few moments, he just stared at me, trying to work out what I'd just said. With some surprise, he finally asked, "You?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Now it was my turn to blink. "What?"
"Why you?" He elaborated. "Why not one of the cruisers or a pair of destroyers?"
"I…" wanted to protect them, I wanted to say. But that wasn't a good enough reason militarily was it?
Of course, John could read me like a book. "You're protecting them, aren't you? You don't want them to go through this?"
For a moment I stood still, not wanting to admit it. But finally I pursed my lips and gave a small, slightly ashamed nod.
John sighed. "Oh Wales. Fine. You're their direct commander. It's your call."
I nodded, "Thank you John."
"I hope you don't regret it. Go get some sleep."
"Yes, Sir."
As usual, it wasn't a long walk to the bunker, but it was enough for me to ponder John's words. Why would I regret it? I was making the choice precisely so I didn't have to make a choice I'd regret.
As it turned out, Houston had the answer. When I returned to the bunker I found her sitting on the concrete roof that protruded just above the ground. "Howdy Wales."
"Hou." I replied with a yawn. "Do you need something? If not, my bed is calling my name."
The cruiser chuckled, "Just wanted to talk tactics with you. Had a couple ideas. By the way, what did the General want?"
I gave the exact same reply I'd given John. "A SHIP or two to support his men. He's expecting a large assault tonight."
"Who's going?" Hmmmm, what a feeling of Deja Vu. It was like I'd just had the exact same conversation.
I sighed, and discarded my tired annoyance. It was fine. She had a right to know as my 2IC. "Me."
This time, her reaction was far different from John. "What? Are you nuts? You're the damn flagship!"
"Well that's why I have you as such a capable second, right?"
She scowled, "Flattery is not getting you out of this Wales. You're a full third of Seven-Niner's firepower! What happens if the Japs show up with a pair of battlewagons tonight then? Huh? You're going to leave Howe to fight them alone?"
I scowled, "It will be fine. The flyboys would have spot them coming."
"And if they didn't?"
"They would've."
Houston's face pulled into an angry look. "God, fucking, DAMNIT Wales! This is war!! You can't do this! I know you're trying to protect us, but overprotectiveness is just as likely to get us killed!"
"Sod off!" I shouted right back. She was right, I was trying to protect them! And she had the gall to get angry at me for it?! "Would you rather I send you to the frontline?!"
"YES!" She roared back, giving me pause, "If I'm left ashore I don't cripple the entire task force! What happens if the Japs do show up tonight? Huh? What happens if they get the jump on us, while we're missing a third of our gunpowder and most capable leader!?"
I wasn't ready to let go yet. "I'm trying to protect you!" I shot back, "Did you see the destroyers after Tulagi!? I can't do that to them!"
"Then send me! Or Boise! Or Perth! Fuck! Send the destroyers anyway!" She shot back. Calmer, she continued, "This is war Wales. We may be much harder to kill now, but we're not all going to survive this war. Sooner or later, someone is going to buy the farm. And you're going to have to deal with it."
She was probably right, but at the time, I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't even fathom losing anyone. That was my worst fear. "Not if I do my job. Everyone is coming home."
The Texan sighed, "You just don't get it, do you?! Because you've actually been human? We're. Not. Human, Wales. We're warships. We're made for this. The destroyers are literally created to fight and die to screen and protect you, the battleship! Not the other way around! We need your firepower Wales."
And she was right. But, "They're just kids…" I weakly protested.
Hou just gave me a pitying shake of her head, "We both know that's not true. They may look it but…"
I sighed, "I know. They just look so young."
"They're all older than you."
"That they are…" I muttered. That would always be strange to me.
"So." Hou began again, "Who are we sending?"
"Me." The look on her face was instantly angry again. "But only this once." I continued, eyes downcast. "Next time, I'll send you or someone else. Okay?"
She sighed again, seemingly mollified, "God damn it Wales. Fine. Just this once. I'll hold you to that."
"Thank you, Hou."
1810 HOURS
The sun was beginning to set by the time I entered General Vandegrift's command post that evening. I'd changed into a set of khakis and a borrowed helmet from my crew, my ornate tommy gun slung over my shoulder. I was quickly let into the tent where the general was working with some of his staff.
"General."
He glanced up from his work at the sound of his rank, and straightened when he saw me. And typically of the man, he was straight to business. "Captain Windsor. Who are you sending?"
"Myself, Sir."
A mixture of confusion and surprise crossed his face, "You? But don't you…" He paused, and shook his head. "Nevermind, the naval war is your domain." He turned to one of his staff. "Fetch me a runner." The staffer nodded, and quickly left the tent.
He gestured me over to his map table, pointing out a small river on the eastern side of the perimeter. "The Japs are going to hit us here. On the Tenaru. That's The First's frontline. You're to report to Colonel Cates. His CP should be somewhere around here." He pointed to a spot just behind the river.
I nodded. "Understood. Anything else, sir?"
"No, the Colonel will give you further orders."
Before I could reply, a Marine in full kit entered the tent. "You needed a runner, Sir?"
The General nodded, "Show Captain Windsor here to Colonel Cate's CP, then leave yourself at his command."
"Aye aye, Sir." He nodded, before gesturing for me to follow him, "This way Ma'am."
With that, the two of us exited the tent and set off, the marine leading me east. We spent the first couple minutes walking in silence, though the young man - he couldn't have been older than eighteen - kept stealing glances at me. By the tenth glance, I couldn't help but remark, "Something on your mind, Marine?"
His eyes returned front instantly, his face flushing. "No, ma'am."
I chuckled, "I don't blame you, I do look like a model. But at least have some subtlety and self control?"
His flush deepened, "O-of course ma'am."
I chuckled again. Oh well, no need to go terrorizing the kid. "What's your name, Marine?"
"PFC Salo, Ma'am." Oh, look, he didn't stutter that time.
I hummed, "Where are you from, Private?"
He looked at me, confused for some reason. "Uhhh, San Fran, Ma'am."
I rolled my eyes. By the book, this one. "You can drop the 'Ma'am', lad." I said, as some of my Welsh accent began to slip through.
"Yes, ma-... Uhhh. Yes, miss?" He stumbled through his words. Oh to be young and awkward again.
"So, why'd you join the Marines, Mr. Salo?" I asked, an amused grin still on my face, "And don't give me a cookie cutter answer."
"Uhhh…Well…" He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "My dad was a Marine. He fought in the last war, in France. He fought in Belleau Wood. I wanted to make him proud."
"Well, you're in the right place for that then." I replied. I gave a vague wave at the world around us, "We're in the middle of history right here. Hell knows these battles will be remembered for generations."
"Yeah." The young man agreed, sounding almost reverential.
I snorted, "Doesn't mean it isn't hellish though. I can't wait for this all to be over so we can go home."
We arrived at Colonel Cate's CP just as the sun was setting. Unfortunately, the man was short on time to spare, busy as he was getting his command prepared for the oncoming attack. Instead I was bundled off down the chain of command again, finally arriving at the bank of the Tenaru, which wasn't actually the Tenaru River, but rather the Ilu River, but the Marine's maps had the names switched around, though the Marines more commonly called it Alligator Creek. And to top it all off, the 'creek' or 'river' wasn't even such, but a tidal lagoon held back by a sandbar.
A confusing affair all around.
Nonetheless, I soon found my way to a small trench dug just behind the main line, which one Lieutenant Colonel Pollock called home. He was talking on his radio as I arrived, which gave me a moment to examine him. The First Marine Regiment's 2nd Battalion commander was a wiry man, tall and lean, though still an inch shy of my six foot. His face was lined with stress, and a beard a day or two old covered his chin.
"-Affirm, bring them up, out." With a clunk, the middle aged officer plunked the receiver down, and turned to me.
"You the ship spirit we were promised?"
"I am, Lieutenant Colonel." I nodded, taking no small pleasure from the fact that I was now the highest ranking officer around. "Captain Windsor, Royal Navy. What's the situation?"
The Marine officer didn't look too pleased about having to treat a woman as a superior officer, but he didn't say anything. "My boys are dug in along the creek here all the way up to where 1st battalion is. The creek is wadeable, but it'll come up to the neck, and anyone trying to cross would be a sitting duck. The sandbar on the left flank along the beach is the biggest problem. It'll be exposed as the tide goes out in an hour or two, and even at high tide, it's only knee deep. I've got two machine guns and two mortar teams with a full company covering it. What class of ship are you?"
"Sorry, classified." I responded. As usual I wasn't allowed to tell anyone which ship I was if they weren't at least a General, "But capabilities wise, I mount over a hundred autocannon barrels."
Pollock blinked. "Fucking christ. What caliber?"
"Twenty and Forty millimeter." I replied.
A small smirk appeared on the American's face. "Japs won't know what hit them. Perfect. In that case, you hold the sandbar. I leave a platoon of my men to support you. That'll free my support weapons up to reinforce the rest of the line. Oh, and I've also got an attached platoon of fairy Marines. I'll have them join you as well. Japs are gonna have to push that sandbar."
"Sounds good. I'll defer to your judgment, Lieutenant Colonel."
The hours passed, and darkness fell. The Marines had set me up in a fighting pit just ten yards up the 'creek', with a clear field of fire covering the entire sandbar, which was now completely exposed by the tide.
On my right, one of my platoons of Royal Marine fairies were dug in, attached under Pollock's command. It was good to see Vandegrift was putting the little guys to good use. A few of the little buggers had come over, both to just chat with me, and catch up with their crewmates still aboard. One by one they also began to rotate through, quickly disappearing aboard to have a quick shower and hot meal from my galleys, until the whole platoon had used my shipboard amenities.
Other than the fairies, there was one platoon of US Marines dug in around me, all in their own fighting positions. The officer in charge, one Lieutenant Clint, was using the pit behind mine as his CP, when he wasn't moving among the rest of the foxholes to check on his men. Which, funnily enough, apparently now included me.
"Everything alright, Captain?" He asked, dropping into my pit.
"As much as it can be, leftenant." I replied.
He nodded, then asked, "You seen action before?"
I snorted, "And then some. Out on the water, at least. I can't claim such familiarity with land warfare. You?"
The young officer shook his head, "No, I'm straight out of training. Shouldn't be too hard tonight though. Just have to sit here and shoot anything that moves."
"Quite." I muttered.
Silence stretched for a moment, and I took the opportunity to glance at the young officer. He seemed to be somewhere in his early twenties, face tight, yet stoic. But he still seemed nervous. I didn't blame him, I was too. Difference was my usual royal mask was a bit better at hiding my trepidation.
"Well." He spoke again, "Good luck." And with that he hopped out and headed for another trench.
A short while later I ended up dozing off…
"-aptain. Captain!"
I jolted awake to find Lieutenant Clint shaking me awake. "I'm up, I'm up!" I muttered, reaching up to wipe my eyes. "What is it?"
"Listening post spotted Japs." He hoarsely whispered. "I need you ready."
"Got it." I whispered back, now aware anything louder may be overheard. With a nod, the young man turned and climbed out of my pit, slithering away into the darkness.
For my part I quickly stood, wiping dirt from my khakis and grabbing my tommy gun. With luck it would only be a platoon or two of Nips, and I wouldn't have to pull my rigging.
And there were the pre-battle jitters. Oh, it was the worst feeling in the world. Your body knowing what was to come, a pit in your stomach, and just a tiny bit of adrenaline to make your hands shake. I forced my hands still as I leaned the barrel of my gun on the lip of the fighting pit, aimed vaguely at the jungle across from us.
The waiting was the worst. The longer it dragged on, the longer I had to put up with that damn feeling. A minute passed. Two. Three. Idly, I checked my internal clock. Forty-six minutes past midnight. I was starting to think it may have been a false alarm.
And then a Marine yelled, "Contact front!" Which was followed instantly by the crack of a rifle.
The Japanese soldiers didn't seem to take too kindly to that. In response, a muzzle flash lit up in the jungle, and a hail of bullets ripped past.
At the time, it amazed me how quickly things went from zero to a hundred after that. In less than a second, dozens of rifles on both sides, and several Japanese machine guns all opened up. The night was filled with flashing guns and the absolute cachaphony of rapid unceasing gunfire. There was the sudden scream of mortar shells, followed by explosions as they landed around our positions.
I honestly struggle to put the experience into words. It was an utter sensory overload of flashing guns in the darkness and deafening gunfire. In a word, it was chaos.
My battleship instincts took over, and sighted my tommy gun on a rapidly flashing enemy gun. I let off a burst, then another, but the machine gun kept flashing in the dark jungle. I swung my aim to another flash, and fired another burst.
It rapidly became a routine, as I fired somewhat wildy towards the enemy. Was this what land combat was like? Just, firing wildly in the general direction of the enemy? Bullets whip-cracked past, but I paid them no mind. In my opinion, the tear of enemy naval shells overhead was far more terrifying.
Eventually my magazine ran dry, and I ducked down to reload. A moment later I popped back up, gun full, and continued shooting, even as more mortars fell around us.
The firefight must've only been a minute old when I heard some unintelligible yelling. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes landed on Lieutenant Clint, gesturing to the left. I followed his arm to see at least a dozen dark figures running out of the jungle, and across the sandbar. Several fell, but the rest kept coming.
I only hesitated to pull my rigging for a brief moment, before a wounded Marine started screaming for his mother. I instantly regretted not doing so at the start of the firefight. It was my duty on this night to defend these marines. And I'd already failed out of compassion for the enemy.
I climbed from my fighting pit, and an instant my khakis disappeared, replaced by my red uniform, rigging settling on my back.
For a brief moment, the firefight slackened and the charging figures slowed. But only for a moment. In the next, the incoming fire thickened again, this time hundreds of rifle and machine gun rounds all aimed at me, plinking off my form like raindrops. The figures charging across the sandbar sped up, buoyed by loud Japanese shouting, and now too numerous to count.
Aboard my decks, drum magazines were loaded into Oerlikons, and oversized clips were fed into Bofors. Rounds were chambered, and guns were aimed.
Even as such a battleship myself, the amount of gunfire a warship of my type can put out when fully loaded with anti-aircraft guns is staggering. The shells do not just come in the hundreds, but the thousands. And fighting at night, as we were, the thousands of glowing tracers made for a morbid lightshow.
The dark, indistinct shapes of men running across the sandbar never stood a chance. They fell in their dozens, my autocannons ripping through their ranks as the high-explosive shells burst in small flashes. The sound of my guns drowned everything else out.
To their credit, the Japanese soldiers rapidly realised they couldn't hurt me, instead firing at the Marines and fairies. In their place, their mortars quickly found my range (not hard, my projected hull is huge), and the small shells began to strike my deck.
They didn't do much, of course. The bursting charge was far too small to do anything to my deck itself. But the shrapnel was more than enough to cause casualties among the gun crews, and even damage my guns themselves.
But there couldn't have been more than two or three tubes firing at me. Far too little, far too late.
It had taken me a mere thirty seconds to clear the sand bar, and with no more apparent movement, I swung my guns onto the jungle across the lagoon, where there were still several machine guns spraying the marines' positions. Several thousand 20 and 40mm quickly silenced them. But I didn't stop, instead raking the opposite shore for a solid half minute, shells splintering trees, and ripping through the foliage.
Finally, I ceased fire, night slipping into sudden silence, only broken by the sound of a distant firefight.
A moment passed, without any gunfire. Then two. "Holy shit." I heard a marine mutter.
"Heh." Someone laughed. "Heh. Hehehehehe. Fucking hell! We did it!"
"Captain!" I heard Lieutenant Clint call, and I turned to see him poking out of a foxhole, tommy gun in hand, "Remind me never to piss you off! Japs never stood a chance! You hit like a fucking truck!"
I slowly turned back to face the lagoon. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Once the adrenaline left my system, and I'd put away my rigging again, exhaustion had hit me like a speeding liner. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but Christ did it leave me tired.
I ended up passing out again in my pit and sleeping away the rest of the night.
The sun had just risen when my eyes fluttered open again. I yawned, wiped my eyes, and stood to stretch. Rolling my neck with a satisfying pop, I turned…
And promptly doubled over as my stomach emptied itself. "Agh," I mumbled, before another contraction expelled another batch of stomach acid. Groaning, I produced a glass of water and quickly rinsed out my mouth to get rid of the horrible taste.
Then, slowly, I raised my eyes to again see what had caused such a reaction.
Bodies. Dozens, upon dozens of bodies. Maybe even hundreds. The sandbar and beach were covered in them. All wore the uniform khakis of the Imperial Japanese Army. And the worst part was the state they were in. I could easily tell those that had been killed by the marines by the clean bullet wounds and bloodstains. My kills however…
I just stared, numb. My mind just couldn't comprehend the sheer horror of what I was looking at. There was an arm. And there, a leg, blown clean off. Another body, everything from the stomach up simply gone thanks to one of my forty millimeter cannons. Everywhere I looked, I saw mutilated corpses, limbs or entire chunks removed by my guns.
I found my feet slowly carrying me towards the sand bar, head numbly swiveling to take in everything. Slowly, I walked among the corpses, boots picking up wet bloody red sand.
These were men, my numb mind realised. People. People with lives. Families. They were sons, brothers. Maybe even fathers.
It was one thing to see a distant ship and fire upon her.
It was wholly another to stare those you'd killed in the face, and realise their humanity.
At that moment, I felt like a monster. For what else could so casually and cruelly end so many lives? To kill a man was to not only take everything from him, but to take everything he ever could have. How many grieving mothers and fathers had I just created? How many Widows? Heaven forbid, how many orphans?
Tears were running down my face as I continued my slow walk across the killing field. My eyes landed on the woodline. Several dozen trees were shattered, knocked down by my guns. And among them were even more corpses.
How many had I killed, in those short two minutes?
I started counting. One. Two. Three. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty. At a hundred, I gave up.
Tears still running down my face, I turned, and slowly began to pick my way back. My eyes landed on the marines. Not a single one was shedding a tear. And that was tragic. What a world this was, that these men could take part in something as monstrous as this war, and not see their enemies' humanity through the propaganda and racism.
Surely we were better than this?
And then, I heard the groan.
My eyes snapped to one of the fallen Japanese. He was laying on his back, left leg missing, and groaning weakly.
"Corpsman!" I bellowed, already rushing to the fallen man's side.
Two of the American medics quickly rushed forward to join me. "Holy shit, how is he still alive?" One of them remarked as they arrived. Quickly, yet gently the two men leaned down and lifted him up, one throwing the soldier's right arm over his shoulder. The other tried to get the soldier's other arm over his shoulder, when I saw a glint of metal in his hand.
I was already moving when the Jap elbowed one of the two to free his hand. "Tennōheika, Banzai!" He shouted, and raised a grenade over his head.
But I was quicker. I lashed out with my left hand, fingers wrapping around the grenade. There was a slight popping and crunching noise as I accidentally caught the Nip's fingers, but I didn't care. I wrenched it out of his hand, taking a finger with me, and dove away. I managed to summon my rigging the moment the handheld explosive was wedged between me and the sand.
It went off a moment later.
I laid in the sand for a few seconds, heart racing. Had I really just done that? Slowly, I pushed myself up, and glanced down at my hands. Neither hand was even scratched, but clutched tightly in my left hand was a collection of metal from the grenade's outer fragmentation shell.
Slowly, I stood, dropping the metal, and glanced back. One of the Corpsman was gaping at me, as was the Japanese soldier, while the other American was glaring daggers at him. "Fucking Japs." He spit, before he tugged the other two into motion.
For his part, the soldier kept staring at me, as he was led away.
I just stood there among the corpses for a few more minutes. I'd saved those three men's lives. But how many had I taken? How many?
I steeled myself, wiping tears from my eyes, and headed back towards our positions. I finally thought I'd gotten a hold of myself when my eyes landed on three corpses, lain in a row beside the forward trench. But these ones weren't Japanese. They were Marines. And the one in the middle…
My legs gave out, and slumped to the ground. PFC Salo's glassy eyes stared back, as a sob escaped my lips. How? How had he died? He was supposed to be a runner, not an infantryman. Why was he even here?
He'd been such a nice young man. And now here we was. Dead. And all I could do was sob and disparage how unfair the world was. It was all my fault. I should have pulled my rigging from the start. Then maybe those three would have been alive.
I promised myself then, I would never hesitate again, or show the enemy unearned mercy by holding back. I would never again let anyone down when they were counting on me for their survival.
Never again.
AN: This is one of those chapters that has been floating around my mind since I started writing this story. And, if it wasn't obvious enough, was heavily inspired by 'The Pacific' miniseries' depiction of the same battle. That series, mixed with Band of Brothers have been the inspiration for the tone and a lot of themes I'm exploring with this story, and I can only hope I'm succeeding in matching said tone.
That said, The Pacific has a special place in my heart, as it was the first brutally real depiction of war I'd ever seen, and as a fourteen year old, I was still in that stage of glorifying war and wanting to be a soldier myself. It's my opinion that everyone should have to watch either Saving Private Ryan, BoB, or The Pacific, as all three absolutely hammer home how fucking horrible war really is.
Anyway, mini-rant over. Hope I did a good job with this one.
General Vandegrift's request was one I'd hoped I'd never get. I was under no illusions what fighting on land would entail. War on the Sea was brutal enough. I would do anything to spare my girls from the horrors of land combat.
SEPTEMBER 31 1942
D+21
0710 HOURS
"I believe an all out assault is coming. Tonight. I am requesting your assistance."
Oh. That wasn't good. I wanted to say no, but I'd just told him how quiet the naval war had been the last few days. Instead I asked, "Why? Don't you still have the four stackers?"
"I do, but they can't cover the entire threatened frontage." He explained, seemingly annoyed. "I need just one or two of your SHIPs to draw fire and lend heavy fire support. You'd be saving a lot of marines."
"Why not offshore gunfire support?" I suggested, looking for any way to get out of this.
The General shook his head, still annoyed. It was clear he was a man not used to being questioned. "Frankly Captain, I don't trust you not to hit my men in the dark, when the Japs are ten yards to our front. Besides, the four stackers have already shown a SHIP's greatest use in a firefight is to attract fire and reduce my Marines' casualties."
I grimaced. He was right. Nighttime close support would be far too risky.
I didn't know what to do. On one hand, I just couldn't subject my girls to what had caused three of them to come back from Tulagi with thousand yard stares. But at the same time, if I refused, I'd have the Marines' blood on my hands.
I internally sighed. "I'll bring along whoever is assisting you here in the evening."
He nodded, "Good. We'll see you then."
My mind was awhirl as I walked back to our bunker, trying to find a way to save my conscience. I had two terrible choices. The Marine's lives, or my own girls' wellbeing. Neither of which I wanted to choose. But I had to. Oh how I hated War.
I was halfway back to the bunker when I paused as a thought occurred to me. There was another option, wasn't there? And as horrid as it was, it was infinitely better than leaving the Marines to die, or sending my girls to be traumatized.
I'd gladly put myself on the front to protect my girls.
I nodded. Yes, that would work. I'd just have to go myself.
The rest of the walk back was strangely calming, now that I'd made up my mind. Hot and sweaty mind, but every day on this damn island was anyway. At least we had A/C now.
But before I could return to the bunker and the wonderful cool air, I had to report to John. He was at his desk in his dugout as usual, working on some report or other. He looked up as I entered.
"What did the General want?" He asked, straight to the point.
"A SHIP or two to support his men." I replied, "He's expecting a large assault tonight."
He nodded in understanding, "Who are you sending?"
"Me."
For a few moments, he just stared at me, trying to work out what I'd just said. With some surprise, he finally asked, "You?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Now it was my turn to blink. "What?"
"Why you?" He elaborated. "Why not one of the cruisers or a pair of destroyers?"
"I…" wanted to protect them, I wanted to say. But that wasn't a good enough reason militarily was it?
Of course, John could read me like a book. "You're protecting them, aren't you? You don't want them to go through this?"
For a moment I stood still, not wanting to admit it. But finally I pursed my lips and gave a small, slightly ashamed nod.
John sighed. "Oh Wales. Fine. You're their direct commander. It's your call."
I nodded, "Thank you John."
"I hope you don't regret it. Go get some sleep."
"Yes, Sir."
As usual, it wasn't a long walk to the bunker, but it was enough for me to ponder John's words. Why would I regret it? I was making the choice precisely so I didn't have to make a choice I'd regret.
As it turned out, Houston had the answer. When I returned to the bunker I found her sitting on the concrete roof that protruded just above the ground. "Howdy Wales."
"Hou." I replied with a yawn. "Do you need something? If not, my bed is calling my name."
The cruiser chuckled, "Just wanted to talk tactics with you. Had a couple ideas. By the way, what did the General want?"
I gave the exact same reply I'd given John. "A SHIP or two to support his men. He's expecting a large assault tonight."
"Who's going?" Hmmmm, what a feeling of Deja Vu. It was like I'd just had the exact same conversation.
I sighed, and discarded my tired annoyance. It was fine. She had a right to know as my 2IC. "Me."
This time, her reaction was far different from John. "What? Are you nuts? You're the damn flagship!"
"Well that's why I have you as such a capable second, right?"
She scowled, "Flattery is not getting you out of this Wales. You're a full third of Seven-Niner's firepower! What happens if the Japs show up with a pair of battlewagons tonight then? Huh? You're going to leave Howe to fight them alone?"
I scowled, "It will be fine. The flyboys would have spot them coming."
"And if they didn't?"
"They would've."
Houston's face pulled into an angry look. "God, fucking, DAMNIT Wales! This is war!! You can't do this! I know you're trying to protect us, but overprotectiveness is just as likely to get us killed!"
"Sod off!" I shouted right back. She was right, I was trying to protect them! And she had the gall to get angry at me for it?! "Would you rather I send you to the frontline?!"
"YES!" She roared back, giving me pause, "If I'm left ashore I don't cripple the entire task force! What happens if the Japs do show up tonight? Huh? What happens if they get the jump on us, while we're missing a third of our gunpowder and most capable leader!?"
I wasn't ready to let go yet. "I'm trying to protect you!" I shot back, "Did you see the destroyers after Tulagi!? I can't do that to them!"
"Then send me! Or Boise! Or Perth! Fuck! Send the destroyers anyway!" She shot back. Calmer, she continued, "This is war Wales. We may be much harder to kill now, but we're not all going to survive this war. Sooner or later, someone is going to buy the farm. And you're going to have to deal with it."
She was probably right, but at the time, I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't even fathom losing anyone. That was my worst fear. "Not if I do my job. Everyone is coming home."
The Texan sighed, "You just don't get it, do you?! Because you've actually been human? We're. Not. Human, Wales. We're warships. We're made for this. The destroyers are literally created to fight and die to screen and protect you, the battleship! Not the other way around! We need your firepower Wales."
And she was right. But, "They're just kids…" I weakly protested.
Hou just gave me a pitying shake of her head, "We both know that's not true. They may look it but…"
I sighed, "I know. They just look so young."
"They're all older than you."
"That they are…" I muttered. That would always be strange to me.
"So." Hou began again, "Who are we sending?"
"Me." The look on her face was instantly angry again. "But only this once." I continued, eyes downcast. "Next time, I'll send you or someone else. Okay?"
She sighed again, seemingly mollified, "God damn it Wales. Fine. Just this once. I'll hold you to that."
"Thank you, Hou."
1810 HOURS
The sun was beginning to set by the time I entered General Vandegrift's command post that evening. I'd changed into a set of khakis and a borrowed helmet from my crew, my ornate tommy gun slung over my shoulder. I was quickly let into the tent where the general was working with some of his staff.
"General."
He glanced up from his work at the sound of his rank, and straightened when he saw me. And typically of the man, he was straight to business. "Captain Windsor. Who are you sending?"
"Myself, Sir."
A mixture of confusion and surprise crossed his face, "You? But don't you…" He paused, and shook his head. "Nevermind, the naval war is your domain." He turned to one of his staff. "Fetch me a runner." The staffer nodded, and quickly left the tent.
He gestured me over to his map table, pointing out a small river on the eastern side of the perimeter. "The Japs are going to hit us here. On the Tenaru. That's The First's frontline. You're to report to Colonel Cates. His CP should be somewhere around here." He pointed to a spot just behind the river.
I nodded. "Understood. Anything else, sir?"
"No, the Colonel will give you further orders."
Before I could reply, a Marine in full kit entered the tent. "You needed a runner, Sir?"
The General nodded, "Show Captain Windsor here to Colonel Cate's CP, then leave yourself at his command."
"Aye aye, Sir." He nodded, before gesturing for me to follow him, "This way Ma'am."
With that, the two of us exited the tent and set off, the marine leading me east. We spent the first couple minutes walking in silence, though the young man - he couldn't have been older than eighteen - kept stealing glances at me. By the tenth glance, I couldn't help but remark, "Something on your mind, Marine?"
His eyes returned front instantly, his face flushing. "No, ma'am."
I chuckled, "I don't blame you, I do look like a model. But at least have some subtlety and self control?"
His flush deepened, "O-of course ma'am."
I chuckled again. Oh well, no need to go terrorizing the kid. "What's your name, Marine?"
"PFC Salo, Ma'am." Oh, look, he didn't stutter that time.
I hummed, "Where are you from, Private?"
He looked at me, confused for some reason. "Uhhh, San Fran, Ma'am."
I rolled my eyes. By the book, this one. "You can drop the 'Ma'am', lad." I said, as some of my Welsh accent began to slip through.
"Yes, ma-... Uhhh. Yes, miss?" He stumbled through his words. Oh to be young and awkward again.
"So, why'd you join the Marines, Mr. Salo?" I asked, an amused grin still on my face, "And don't give me a cookie cutter answer."
"Uhhh…Well…" He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "My dad was a Marine. He fought in the last war, in France. He fought in Belleau Wood. I wanted to make him proud."
"Well, you're in the right place for that then." I replied. I gave a vague wave at the world around us, "We're in the middle of history right here. Hell knows these battles will be remembered for generations."
"Yeah." The young man agreed, sounding almost reverential.
I snorted, "Doesn't mean it isn't hellish though. I can't wait for this all to be over so we can go home."
We arrived at Colonel Cate's CP just as the sun was setting. Unfortunately, the man was short on time to spare, busy as he was getting his command prepared for the oncoming attack. Instead I was bundled off down the chain of command again, finally arriving at the bank of the Tenaru, which wasn't actually the Tenaru River, but rather the Ilu River, but the Marine's maps had the names switched around, though the Marines more commonly called it Alligator Creek. And to top it all off, the 'creek' or 'river' wasn't even such, but a tidal lagoon held back by a sandbar.
A confusing affair all around.
Nonetheless, I soon found my way to a small trench dug just behind the main line, which one Lieutenant Colonel Pollock called home. He was talking on his radio as I arrived, which gave me a moment to examine him. The First Marine Regiment's 2nd Battalion commander was a wiry man, tall and lean, though still an inch shy of my six foot. His face was lined with stress, and a beard a day or two old covered his chin.
"-Affirm, bring them up, out." With a clunk, the middle aged officer plunked the receiver down, and turned to me.
"You the ship spirit we were promised?"
"I am, Lieutenant Colonel." I nodded, taking no small pleasure from the fact that I was now the highest ranking officer around. "Captain Windsor, Royal Navy. What's the situation?"
The Marine officer didn't look too pleased about having to treat a woman as a superior officer, but he didn't say anything. "My boys are dug in along the creek here all the way up to where 1st battalion is. The creek is wadeable, but it'll come up to the neck, and anyone trying to cross would be a sitting duck. The sandbar on the left flank along the beach is the biggest problem. It'll be exposed as the tide goes out in an hour or two, and even at high tide, it's only knee deep. I've got two machine guns and two mortar teams with a full company covering it. What class of ship are you?"
"Sorry, classified." I responded. As usual I wasn't allowed to tell anyone which ship I was if they weren't at least a General, "But capabilities wise, I mount over a hundred autocannon barrels."
Pollock blinked. "Fucking christ. What caliber?"
"Twenty and Forty millimeter." I replied.
A small smirk appeared on the American's face. "Japs won't know what hit them. Perfect. In that case, you hold the sandbar. I leave a platoon of my men to support you. That'll free my support weapons up to reinforce the rest of the line. Oh, and I've also got an attached platoon of fairy Marines. I'll have them join you as well. Japs are gonna have to push that sandbar."
"Sounds good. I'll defer to your judgment, Lieutenant Colonel."
The hours passed, and darkness fell. The Marines had set me up in a fighting pit just ten yards up the 'creek', with a clear field of fire covering the entire sandbar, which was now completely exposed by the tide.
On my right, one of my platoons of Royal Marine fairies were dug in, attached under Pollock's command. It was good to see Vandegrift was putting the little guys to good use. A few of the little buggers had come over, both to just chat with me, and catch up with their crewmates still aboard. One by one they also began to rotate through, quickly disappearing aboard to have a quick shower and hot meal from my galleys, until the whole platoon had used my shipboard amenities.
Other than the fairies, there was one platoon of US Marines dug in around me, all in their own fighting positions. The officer in charge, one Lieutenant Clint, was using the pit behind mine as his CP, when he wasn't moving among the rest of the foxholes to check on his men. Which, funnily enough, apparently now included me.
"Everything alright, Captain?" He asked, dropping into my pit.
"As much as it can be, leftenant." I replied.
He nodded, then asked, "You seen action before?"
I snorted, "And then some. Out on the water, at least. I can't claim such familiarity with land warfare. You?"
The young officer shook his head, "No, I'm straight out of training. Shouldn't be too hard tonight though. Just have to sit here and shoot anything that moves."
"Quite." I muttered.
Silence stretched for a moment, and I took the opportunity to glance at the young officer. He seemed to be somewhere in his early twenties, face tight, yet stoic. But he still seemed nervous. I didn't blame him, I was too. Difference was my usual royal mask was a bit better at hiding my trepidation.
"Well." He spoke again, "Good luck." And with that he hopped out and headed for another trench.
A short while later I ended up dozing off…
"-aptain. Captain!"
I jolted awake to find Lieutenant Clint shaking me awake. "I'm up, I'm up!" I muttered, reaching up to wipe my eyes. "What is it?"
"Listening post spotted Japs." He hoarsely whispered. "I need you ready."
"Got it." I whispered back, now aware anything louder may be overheard. With a nod, the young man turned and climbed out of my pit, slithering away into the darkness.
For my part I quickly stood, wiping dirt from my khakis and grabbing my tommy gun. With luck it would only be a platoon or two of Nips, and I wouldn't have to pull my rigging.
And there were the pre-battle jitters. Oh, it was the worst feeling in the world. Your body knowing what was to come, a pit in your stomach, and just a tiny bit of adrenaline to make your hands shake. I forced my hands still as I leaned the barrel of my gun on the lip of the fighting pit, aimed vaguely at the jungle across from us.
The waiting was the worst. The longer it dragged on, the longer I had to put up with that damn feeling. A minute passed. Two. Three. Idly, I checked my internal clock. Forty-six minutes past midnight. I was starting to think it may have been a false alarm.
And then a Marine yelled, "Contact front!" Which was followed instantly by the crack of a rifle.
The Japanese soldiers didn't seem to take too kindly to that. In response, a muzzle flash lit up in the jungle, and a hail of bullets ripped past.
At the time, it amazed me how quickly things went from zero to a hundred after that. In less than a second, dozens of rifles on both sides, and several Japanese machine guns all opened up. The night was filled with flashing guns and the absolute cachaphony of rapid unceasing gunfire. There was the sudden scream of mortar shells, followed by explosions as they landed around our positions.
I honestly struggle to put the experience into words. It was an utter sensory overload of flashing guns in the darkness and deafening gunfire. In a word, it was chaos.
My battleship instincts took over, and sighted my tommy gun on a rapidly flashing enemy gun. I let off a burst, then another, but the machine gun kept flashing in the dark jungle. I swung my aim to another flash, and fired another burst.
It rapidly became a routine, as I fired somewhat wildy towards the enemy. Was this what land combat was like? Just, firing wildly in the general direction of the enemy? Bullets whip-cracked past, but I paid them no mind. In my opinion, the tear of enemy naval shells overhead was far more terrifying.
Eventually my magazine ran dry, and I ducked down to reload. A moment later I popped back up, gun full, and continued shooting, even as more mortars fell around us.
The firefight must've only been a minute old when I heard some unintelligible yelling. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes landed on Lieutenant Clint, gesturing to the left. I followed his arm to see at least a dozen dark figures running out of the jungle, and across the sandbar. Several fell, but the rest kept coming.
I only hesitated to pull my rigging for a brief moment, before a wounded Marine started screaming for his mother. I instantly regretted not doing so at the start of the firefight. It was my duty on this night to defend these marines. And I'd already failed out of compassion for the enemy.
I climbed from my fighting pit, and an instant my khakis disappeared, replaced by my red uniform, rigging settling on my back.
For a brief moment, the firefight slackened and the charging figures slowed. But only for a moment. In the next, the incoming fire thickened again, this time hundreds of rifle and machine gun rounds all aimed at me, plinking off my form like raindrops. The figures charging across the sandbar sped up, buoyed by loud Japanese shouting, and now too numerous to count.
Aboard my decks, drum magazines were loaded into Oerlikons, and oversized clips were fed into Bofors. Rounds were chambered, and guns were aimed.
Even as such a battleship myself, the amount of gunfire a warship of my type can put out when fully loaded with anti-aircraft guns is staggering. The shells do not just come in the hundreds, but the thousands. And fighting at night, as we were, the thousands of glowing tracers made for a morbid lightshow.
The dark, indistinct shapes of men running across the sandbar never stood a chance. They fell in their dozens, my autocannons ripping through their ranks as the high-explosive shells burst in small flashes. The sound of my guns drowned everything else out.
To their credit, the Japanese soldiers rapidly realised they couldn't hurt me, instead firing at the Marines and fairies. In their place, their mortars quickly found my range (not hard, my projected hull is huge), and the small shells began to strike my deck.
They didn't do much, of course. The bursting charge was far too small to do anything to my deck itself. But the shrapnel was more than enough to cause casualties among the gun crews, and even damage my guns themselves.
But there couldn't have been more than two or three tubes firing at me. Far too little, far too late.
It had taken me a mere thirty seconds to clear the sand bar, and with no more apparent movement, I swung my guns onto the jungle across the lagoon, where there were still several machine guns spraying the marines' positions. Several thousand 20 and 40mm quickly silenced them. But I didn't stop, instead raking the opposite shore for a solid half minute, shells splintering trees, and ripping through the foliage.
Finally, I ceased fire, night slipping into sudden silence, only broken by the sound of a distant firefight.
A moment passed, without any gunfire. Then two. "Holy shit." I heard a marine mutter.
"Heh." Someone laughed. "Heh. Hehehehehe. Fucking hell! We did it!"
"Captain!" I heard Lieutenant Clint call, and I turned to see him poking out of a foxhole, tommy gun in hand, "Remind me never to piss you off! Japs never stood a chance! You hit like a fucking truck!"
I slowly turned back to face the lagoon. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Once the adrenaline left my system, and I'd put away my rigging again, exhaustion had hit me like a speeding liner. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but Christ did it leave me tired.
I ended up passing out again in my pit and sleeping away the rest of the night.
The sun had just risen when my eyes fluttered open again. I yawned, wiped my eyes, and stood to stretch. Rolling my neck with a satisfying pop, I turned…
And promptly doubled over as my stomach emptied itself. "Agh," I mumbled, before another contraction expelled another batch of stomach acid. Groaning, I produced a glass of water and quickly rinsed out my mouth to get rid of the horrible taste.
Then, slowly, I raised my eyes to again see what had caused such a reaction.
Bodies. Dozens, upon dozens of bodies. Maybe even hundreds. The sandbar and beach were covered in them. All wore the uniform khakis of the Imperial Japanese Army. And the worst part was the state they were in. I could easily tell those that had been killed by the marines by the clean bullet wounds and bloodstains. My kills however…
I just stared, numb. My mind just couldn't comprehend the sheer horror of what I was looking at. There was an arm. And there, a leg, blown clean off. Another body, everything from the stomach up simply gone thanks to one of my forty millimeter cannons. Everywhere I looked, I saw mutilated corpses, limbs or entire chunks removed by my guns.
I found my feet slowly carrying me towards the sand bar, head numbly swiveling to take in everything. Slowly, I walked among the corpses, boots picking up wet bloody red sand.
These were men, my numb mind realised. People. People with lives. Families. They were sons, brothers. Maybe even fathers.
It was one thing to see a distant ship and fire upon her.
It was wholly another to stare those you'd killed in the face, and realise their humanity.
At that moment, I felt like a monster. For what else could so casually and cruelly end so many lives? To kill a man was to not only take everything from him, but to take everything he ever could have. How many grieving mothers and fathers had I just created? How many Widows? Heaven forbid, how many orphans?
Tears were running down my face as I continued my slow walk across the killing field. My eyes landed on the woodline. Several dozen trees were shattered, knocked down by my guns. And among them were even more corpses.
How many had I killed, in those short two minutes?
I started counting. One. Two. Three. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty. At a hundred, I gave up.
Tears still running down my face, I turned, and slowly began to pick my way back. My eyes landed on the marines. Not a single one was shedding a tear. And that was tragic. What a world this was, that these men could take part in something as monstrous as this war, and not see their enemies' humanity through the propaganda and racism.
Surely we were better than this?
And then, I heard the groan.
My eyes snapped to one of the fallen Japanese. He was laying on his back, left leg missing, and groaning weakly.
"Corpsman!" I bellowed, already rushing to the fallen man's side.
Two of the American medics quickly rushed forward to join me. "Holy shit, how is he still alive?" One of them remarked as they arrived. Quickly, yet gently the two men leaned down and lifted him up, one throwing the soldier's right arm over his shoulder. The other tried to get the soldier's other arm over his shoulder, when I saw a glint of metal in his hand.
I was already moving when the Jap elbowed one of the two to free his hand. "Tennōheika, Banzai!" He shouted, and raised a grenade over his head.
But I was quicker. I lashed out with my left hand, fingers wrapping around the grenade. There was a slight popping and crunching noise as I accidentally caught the Nip's fingers, but I didn't care. I wrenched it out of his hand, taking a finger with me, and dove away. I managed to summon my rigging the moment the handheld explosive was wedged between me and the sand.
It went off a moment later.
I laid in the sand for a few seconds, heart racing. Had I really just done that? Slowly, I pushed myself up, and glanced down at my hands. Neither hand was even scratched, but clutched tightly in my left hand was a collection of metal from the grenade's outer fragmentation shell.
Slowly, I stood, dropping the metal, and glanced back. One of the Corpsman was gaping at me, as was the Japanese soldier, while the other American was glaring daggers at him. "Fucking Japs." He spit, before he tugged the other two into motion.
For his part, the soldier kept staring at me, as he was led away.
I just stood there among the corpses for a few more minutes. I'd saved those three men's lives. But how many had I taken? How many?
I steeled myself, wiping tears from my eyes, and headed back towards our positions. I finally thought I'd gotten a hold of myself when my eyes landed on three corpses, lain in a row beside the forward trench. But these ones weren't Japanese. They were Marines. And the one in the middle…
My legs gave out, and slumped to the ground. PFC Salo's glassy eyes stared back, as a sob escaped my lips. How? How had he died? He was supposed to be a runner, not an infantryman. Why was he even here?
He'd been such a nice young man. And now here we was. Dead. And all I could do was sob and disparage how unfair the world was. It was all my fault. I should have pulled my rigging from the start. Then maybe those three would have been alive.
I promised myself then, I would never hesitate again, or show the enemy unearned mercy by holding back. I would never again let anyone down when they were counting on me for their survival.
Never again.
AN: This is one of those chapters that has been floating around my mind since I started writing this story. And, if it wasn't obvious enough, was heavily inspired by 'The Pacific' miniseries' depiction of the same battle. That series, mixed with Band of Brothers have been the inspiration for the tone and a lot of themes I'm exploring with this story, and I can only hope I'm succeeding in matching said tone.
That said, The Pacific has a special place in my heart, as it was the first brutally real depiction of war I'd ever seen, and as a fourteen year old, I was still in that stage of glorifying war and wanting to be a soldier myself. It's my opinion that everyone should have to watch either Saving Private Ryan, BoB, or The Pacific, as all three absolutely hammer home how fucking horrible war really is.
Anyway, mini-rant over. Hope I did a good job with this one.