John Schettler - Fallen Angels - 9 Days Falling, Volume II

One lucky pilot, Lt. JG Everett Wheeler, received the Navy Cross for gallantry in the face of intense anti-aircraft fire, holding steady to put a 1000 pound bomb right smack on the forward deck of the Japanese heavy cruiser Tone , another ship with lines of fate deeply entangled in this strange new twist of history’s rope. The dour Captain Iwabuchi was not present when Tone was finally put out of action. He had already slit his belly open in the last awful hours of the massacre in Manila, refusing to surrender to the bitter end.

After a taste of the bubbly, the pilots of the 87th thought they would be on Easy Street for a while until word came down to assemble in the briefing room for yet another mission. Lt. Vern Higman was already seated and ready for the briefing as a number of other pilots reported in. His wing mate, Wendell Stevens spied him in his old favorite chair and was quick to his side.

“What do you make of this one Higgs,” said Stevens. “Word is the Russkies are mixed up in this brawl now.”

“Russians? They’re a little late to the party, I’d say.”

“Me too, but that’s what I heard in the radio room. That recon flight thought they were overflying three Russian ships in the Kuriles up north. They made one pass, then came round a second time for the photo run and bam , one of those bastards lit up Billy Watts, and he went right into the drink. Flight leader was so pissed he swung round for a strafing run, but that was the last they heard from any of them.”

Higman didn’t like the sound of that. The Hellcat was a fast, reliable, and sturdy workhorse that could take a good deal of punishment and still come home in one piece. To lose five like that was reason for raised eyebrows, but he said nothing, arms folded on his chest as he watched the other pilots finding seats. He still remembered that harrowing day when a Japanese ship put a 4 inch shell right through his wing and fuselage near the canopy. His baby, “Round Trip Ticket” had a hard ride home after that, but the plane lived up to its name and brought him safely back to his carrier.

Now Stevens had more to say.

“Heard something else, Higgs,” he always called Higman that, and the other man instinctively leaned his head to one side as Stevens lowered his voice.

“More scuttlebutt, or was this from the radio room intercepts?”

“This stuff was right in the clear! The pilots on those Hellcats said something about rockets before they went down.”

“Rockets?”

“Damn right. How you figure it? I mean, we use ‘em ourselves. Old Holy Moses packs quite a punch.” He was referring to the HVAR, or High Velocity Aircraft Rocket, a 5 inch (127mm) weapon that was unguided, but could penetrate four feet of reinforced concrete.

“Yeah, but I’ve never heard much about ships using the damn things,” said Higman.

“Brits use ‘em. They’ve got a thing they call the Three Stooges, or something like that. I hear they named ‘em Curley, Larry and Moe.”

“They call it the Stooge,” Higman corrected him. “Probably because you have to be stupid to use the damn things. I saw one once on one of their carriers a while back when I had to land there. The Brits tried those out on the Kamikazes, but they only had six, or so I heard. You can’t do a whole hell of a lot with six rockets, and good luck hitting anything with those anyway. Ask me and I’d just as soon stick with my MGs and a good 1000 pound bomb.”

“Tried and true,” said Stevens, yet he was still thinking about those rockets, and wondering what it would be like to get a couple Tiny Tims under his wings. They were much bigger than the HVAR rockets, and hit much harder. Before he could say anything else Lt. Commander Ingalls called the briefing to order and laid it out, plain and simple.

“Alright, listen up,” he began. “Somebody took down Billy Watts and Tom Haley’s group. Bushwhacked the whole bunch on a photo run. You find me a Jap ship still floating and I’ll believe it was Tojo trying to paddle his way north out of harm’s way. So we think this might have been a group of Russian ships. The damn commies are getting a little too big for their britches, so we’re going up to say hello and let them know who’s running the show around here.”

This received an enthusiastic murmur in response, and Ingalls nodded his considered approval. “Alright,” he continued. “These ships were flying a white naval ensign with a blue letter X across the whole field. Someone says that could be Russian Navy, at least on the colors, but we’ll see soon enough.”

“Yeah, soon enough, LTC,” Stevens piped up. “We get rockets this time out, or do we just sink ‘em like Higgs says here and use the old dead lead?”

“Use whatever they put on your plane, Stevens, but nobody drops an egg on these ships unless Iron Mike or I give the say so. We’re to find them, and then I’ll do the talking from that point on.”

“What if they give you some lip, LTC? Russkies speak English these days?”

“If I can’t raise them on radio we’ll show them the whole damn formation and see if they feel like taking any more sucker punches like that. If they get stupid, I’ve got authorization to plaster them.”

More murmurs, all happily raring to go. “And one other thing,” said Ingalls. “ Benner and Sutherland are heading north to look for our downed pilots, which is another reason nobody needs to get trigger happy unless I give the word. They’re watching these ships on radar, and we’ll handle the rest. Now, suit up and be up on the flight deck in twenty flat. Dismissed.”

Stevens was excited and ready to go. After all, he thought, this may be the last chance he would get to plaster somebody with anything. But he was about to learn more about rockets than he ever wanted to know.

Farto the north US destroyer pickets Benner and Sutherland had joined up and were steaming together towards the site of the action. It was their intention to get in and rescue their downed pilots in the water before the sharks or the cold finished them off. If need be they could also find and shadow the ships the US Navy wanted to hold responsible for the incident. Each destroyer was fast at 35 knots, and packed six 5 inch guns along with a set of five torpedo tubes on one side of the ship with 533mm fish. The other torpedo mount had been removed for electronic and radar equipment to give Benner and Sutherland better eyes. Commander John Mulholland, the squadron leader on Benner , figured he still had enough punch to move in close and get the contact in his field glasses for a good long look. He had heard the order from Ziggy Sprague, “steady as you go,” and he knew the whole of TF.38.3 was right behind him.

Sprague was as tough a fighting Admiral as anyone, he thought. He knew that the four carriers in the main body would most likely have planes up within the hour, riding his locator beacon signal north. A man like Ziggy Sprague at your back did a lot to bolster confidence. And behind Sprague there was another fighting admiral out there in Bull Halsey. He commanded Vice Admiral McCain’s TF 38.1, Ballentine’s 38.2, and Radford’s 38.4, all mustering for the surrender ceremony being planned in Sagami Bay off Tokyo. In all there were four fast carrier task forces in theater, and the British would throw in another with their TF.37. It was more naval power than the world would ever see amassed in one location like this, and intended to make the strongest possible show of force when the fleet anchored off Tokyo.

This is what we have left after we put your whole damn navy on the bottom of the sea, thought Mulholland as he spoke inwardly to the Japanese. So if the Russians want to play now, they had better realize just what they’re dealing with.