Exactly, it will force a reaction if there are available units to react... and given Makassar Strait and Flores Sea... what is left of the IJN to react with?
Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2
- Thread starter fester
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Driftless
Donor
Most of the surviving heavies and carriers are still in the body-and-fender shop aren't they?
SsgtC
Banned
They might be able to get a few units ready if they go for an "expedient repair" to get the ship combat ready for a short operation (see what the USN did to Yorktown IOTL). But I'm doubtful the IJN would do that unless they are forced into it.
Yep, if pressed I think the IJN can muster Ryujo, Yamato and a small force of destroyers and cruisers.
I’m not sure if the IJN is capable of doing that, even under normal circumstances.
Driftless
Donor
I don't think they go meekly though.... Luzon, especially will likely suffer, with the other islands catching hell based on the size of the forces present.
With defeat fever about to kick in I read that as systematic crimes against humanity as opposed to battle.
SsgtC
Banned
They were capable of it, but it violated their doctrine. So in practice they would never do it
The actions of the Japanese in the PI once American forces were retaking the islands managed to fit the "war crimes" criteria quite well enough, thank you. The dead in the battle for the old city of Manila (the intramuros) numbered in the tens of thousands perhaps over a hundred thousand civilians.
I've never made the connection between the Warrior Code of Bushido and the murdering of civilians. I don't get it. The European knights didn't exactly treat the peasants with respect, but unless they were retaliating against them because of an uprising I don't think they went out of their way to slaughter them for sport as the Japanese did in Nanjing..or just mass murder as in Manila..or the murdering of doctors and nurses in Singapore. How does that fit in with being a warrior?
Thinking about the European knights comment...I take that back. They were dicks, too.
formion
Banned
I think in Makassar both Yamatos had their superstructure severely damaged along with a number of torpedo hits. Basically only the main belt was left untouched. So I think they are in the shop for anything from 6 -18 months depending on the actual damage. This is just great, because the IJN throws valuable resources to fix the behemoths. By the time they are ready for combat the Marines may be landing in Okinawa. At worst case senario, Luzon at least will have been liberated.
Story 2001
Yokosuka Navy Yard, April 18, 1943
Admiral Kurita never thought he would be the senior admiral afloat for the Imperial Japanese Navy. War accelerated promotions and created new paths for the good or the lucky. At the best of times, promotion happened to the good and the lucky. He knew he was just lucky after the remnants of the Combined Fleet had crawled back to the Home Islands after the massacre in Makassar. Half of the men senior to him had been killed in battle, the rest had behaved with honor after they had made their final reports.
At one day’s notice, Nagato and Ise could be out to sea. Yamato had been undergoing repairs at Kure while Musashi had entered drydock in February and would not be out until at least August. The sole surviving battle cruiser of the Kido Butai had four functional guns and could not outrun most of the British battle line at Jutland. A few cruisers were available in home waters, and an understrength cruiser strike force led by Asama was based at Palau being able to respond to either threats from the east or the south. The carrier strike groups could barely launch one hundred aircraft if they had a favorable wind.
He had nothing. Reinforcements were promised. This fall, Shinano would be ready for working up if there was enough fuel. Aircraft carriers were being promised but the stockpile of high octane aviation fuel was declining fast. The crews that could man those aircraft would be a few survivors of the war in China, another tranche of pre-war veterans and then men who had never seen combat. Their flying time was barely adequate and grossly inferior to the least experienced pre-war men who had taken off from the decks of the six carriers north of Oahu just sixteen months ago.
And now the Americans were on the move. Intelligence had reported a huge concentration of troops, aircraft and warships at Singapore. At least three American carriers were still in the South China Sea. They could expand the offensive up Makassar and eliminate another third of the oil the Empire needed; they could take Saigon or Haiphong and cut off the rice shipments that fed the Home Islands, or they could land in the Southern Philippines to threaten the aluminum that was needed for the reconstruction of the naval air arms. They could do all of that and he could do nothing, at least not yet.
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Story 2002
Cambridge, Massachusetts April 19, 1943
She skipped down the steps. The exam was over. No more integrals, no more abstractions of sums, no more divination of slopes and areas with complex formulas. Or at least no more for another week until another short session started where differential equations would be the challenge in front of her. Half a dozen girls from the radar lab were steps behind her while an older woman from the acoustics lab had reached the landing and was lighting a cigarette before she walked through the rain to the T station.
Elaine did not care about the rain. She was done and she had done well. Cambridge was only an hour from Lowell but it was a lifetime of possibility. She was in college, well not really college as she had not been accepted anyway, but she now had completed nine college credits and would be taking another six over the summer. That was an absurd statement only three years ago. If the war had not come, she would be in a small apartment a few blocks from the mill bundling up at least one, if not two toddlers for the walk to her mother’s house before a shift at the mill. Her Patrick would be with her at the mill gate and they would have a full day of hearing looms slam into each other. Now she would never go back to the mill floor.
He was half a world away and his letters were full of pride as he was responding from Australia three or four months later than her news. He was proud of her work in college geometry and introductory literature from January. He was proud of her moving to the university labs instead of a ship yard. He was proud of her. And she was proud of him. There were secrets he did not need to know, but she was proud of him. As the rain ran down her face, she placed another letter, the third of the week, into the mailbox. A part of her life was now in the hands of the post office.
She skipped down the steps. The exam was over. No more integrals, no more abstractions of sums, no more divination of slopes and areas with complex formulas. Or at least no more for another week until another short session started where differential equations would be the challenge in front of her. Half a dozen girls from the radar lab were steps behind her while an older woman from the acoustics lab had reached the landing and was lighting a cigarette before she walked through the rain to the T station.
Elaine did not care about the rain. She was done and she had done well. Cambridge was only an hour from Lowell but it was a lifetime of possibility. She was in college, well not really college as she had not been accepted anyway, but she now had completed nine college credits and would be taking another six over the summer. That was an absurd statement only three years ago. If the war had not come, she would be in a small apartment a few blocks from the mill bundling up at least one, if not two toddlers for the walk to her mother’s house before a shift at the mill. Her Patrick would be with her at the mill gate and they would have a full day of hearing looms slam into each other. Now she would never go back to the mill floor.
He was half a world away and his letters were full of pride as he was responding from Australia three or four months later than her news. He was proud of her work in college geometry and introductory literature from January. He was proud of her moving to the university labs instead of a ship yard. He was proud of her. And she was proud of him. There were secrets he did not need to know, but she was proud of him. As the rain ran down her face, she placed another letter, the third of the week, into the mailbox. A part of her life was now in the hands of the post office.
and the carrier count doesn't include the Royal Navy...looks like TF 57 is going to get to play a lot sooner with a lot more cooperation between the navies...
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