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

Theproblem was—neither Mulholland, nor Sprague, nor Halsey himself had any real idea what they were dealing with, or that the dictates of time an fate would indeed have a great say in the events about to transpire. One man had a strong suspicion that day, and he was already on a plane heading for the USS Independence , steaming just a few hundred yards off the starboard bow of “Mighty Mo,” the Fleet Flagship, BB Missouri .

His name was Admiral Bruce Fraser, and he had made an urgent call to see Halsey right away. As soon as the plane landed Fraser was piped aboard with all due ceremony, but he waved off the welcoming committee and wasted no time getting into a launch to take the short ride over to Missouri .

Halsey was watching him come across from the weather deck off the bridge, and had a welcoming committee of his own down on the lower deck in dress whites to receive him. Fraser had been there just a few days ago to deliver the thanks of his grateful nation to Halsey in the form of an official pronouncement admitting the Admiral to a very exclusive order. He was now officially a Knight of the British Empire.

Something tells me that Sir Bruce isn’t here for tea and company with a fellow Knight, thought Halsey as he watched. Fraser was a fighting Admiral too. He had fought in the Med and then went after the Germans again 1943 when he put the battlecruiser Scharnhorst at the bottom of the sea to finally avenge the loss of his old command, HMS Glorious , which met her end under the guns of that same German ship.

He had also heard that Fraser had been involved in some top secret Royal Navy operations over the years. Word gets around, even if it has to go all the way across the Pacific. Halsey had heard the British had a scrap with something in the Med, and Fraser was there. Then there was that intelligence out of FRUMMEL HQ down under about a battle the Japanese fought during the Guadalcanal campaign. FRUMMEL said it involved an entire Jap carrier division and a couple battleships, but the details were sketchy. What irked him about it was this: Halsey had been in nominal command of that campaign, even if he was laid up in sick bay. He nonetheless had reports of every action by US subs, ships, or carriers, and there was nothing at all about these engagements. Who were the Japanese fighting, he wondered? And who took a pot shot at Babe Brown up north? Who took down Ziggy Sprague’s recon flight?

It probably has something to do with the Russians, he thought, and he had the distinct feeling that the British Admiral was bringing him bad news.

He was correct.

“Sufficeit to say, Admiral, that we may be dealing with more here than meets the eye.” Admiral Fraser met Halsey’s eye now, a look of frank seriousness there, and a bit of a warning.

Halsey was of no mind to be frightened by anything his British colleague was saying here. Dour faced and well blooded in battle over long years of combat at sea, Bull Halsey was as hard as they came. His eyes had a sparkle in them, beneath bristling grey eyebrows when he smiled, but when he frowned in anger there was a steely resolve there that was a good part of the reason why his fleet was waiting to receive the surrender of the Japanese Empire.

“You’re telling me the Russians are behind this?” he said. “And you’re sure of this? What possible reason would the Soviet government have to pick a fight with us now?”

“This may not have anything to do with the Soviet government at all,” said Fraser, a bit delicately, as if tiptoeing around something more unsaid, and Halsey noticed it immediately.

“What do you mean by that? Are you saying this is a renegade ship responsible for this attack? I suppose I could believe the Russians might do something like this to get our attention and make sure they have a seat at the table next week. A stunt like that would be just like them, but a renegade?”

“That may very well be a good word for it, Admiral Halsey,” said Fraser. “In point of fact, we have some knowledge of this ship, if I’m not mistaken about it now. I saw the damn thing with my own eyes once. We gave it a code word back then. A word you Yanks will be familiar with I suppose— Geronimo —a renegade indeed.”

“Geronimo…” Halsey had heard rumors of a ship given that name. “Yes, I did catch something about that some years ago.” This was it, he thought. This was that secret operation in the Med.

“Indeed,” said Fraser. “Well, let me share a few things about it with you, Admiral. The first and foremost thing is this—the ship is dangerous. It’s fast, possesses advanced weaponry, and seems to have no qualms about using everything it has if it comes to a scrap at sea.”

“Any good fighting sea Captain would do the same,” said Halsey. “I don’t have to tell you that this ship is dangerous as well.” He was referring to the Fleet Flagship, the battleship Missouri , one of America’s superb new fast battleships.

Fraser considered what to say next, knowing there were limits to what he could discuss here. How to convince a man like Halsey that this situation needs a good long look and careful consideration—real caution? How to redefine the word dangerous for him here in a way that would make it stick?

“Admiral…” he began, still thinking. “I’m sure you recall the incident in the North Atlantic before Roosevelt declared war.”

“You mean that business with the Germans? Well, they caught us flat footed out there and jumped on the Wasp while she was ferrying unarmed planes to Iceland. You don’t forget something like that.”

“Yes, well if you were briefed on the incident then you’ll know what also happened to the Mississippi .”

Halsey frowned. “I was in the Pacific at the time, aboard CV Enterprise and worrying more about the Japanese. Yes, we heard Mississippi went down but, to be frank, I never knew the details. Thank God we got the bastard, that’s all. The boys of Desron 7 did us all proud, and one thing more. They got us into this war when most of the country was too blind to see it coming. So whatever happened out there it was all for the good in the end.”

“I see…” This gave Fraser pause. If the American government had not seen fit to inform a man like Bull Halsey of what really happened in the Atlantic, then he wondered if he was making a mistake here. Yet he knew that Halsey was the man on the scene now. It would be his word commanding the forces most likely to be involved if this was indeed another ‘incident’ in the making. Something told him to proceed with caution, yet at the same time there was an obvious urgency about the situation.

“May I ask if you have any further information on this incident with your scouting force?”

“You mean Babe Brown’s group? He’s back in the fold, Admiral, but hasn’t been able to tell us very much. I haven’t seen the full report yet, but those were a couple old cruisers on patrol up there, both of them ready for the scrap heap. He claims they were closing on a surface contact when they were hit by kamikazes, but we’ve seen no sign of Japanese activity off of Hokkaido since.”

“And your reconnaissance?”

“Bushwhacked on a photo run, and whoever did that is going to pay for it—Japanese, Russians, I could care less. You say it was the Russians, then I’ll believe you, but it won’t make any difference. I sent Admiral Sprague up to see about it, and we’ll settle the matter. If this is some kind of political hot potato, I’m afraid I’m not the sort to play those games, Admiral Fraser. Call me rash, even bull headed, but I’ve been called worse. The Russians don’t get a pass from me if they take to shooting down American planes.”