Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2

[fester]

Western Pacific, March 20, 1945

The USS Enterprise turned into the wind. A dozen Hellcats were warmed up and waiting for enough wind over the deck. The old carrier that had been redesignated as the night fleet carrier would have a busy day today. A dozen Hellcats for the first CAP slot and then maintaining a half dozen fighters at Alert 5 and another dozen at Alert-15 for the rest of the day. Two Avengers would be up for antisubmarine patrols at all times while half a dozen would be kept ready for long range scouting missions. The anti-aircraft guns would be kept at a third manned with the rest of the ship ready to spring to action within minutes. The engineers would make sure that her boilers were creating as much as steam as possible and the screws would bite deep into the water while the mess attendants managed the critical coffee urns and the cooks turned out donuts and sandwhiches for sailors to scarf down in the few minutes between potential emergencies.

A mile behind her, USS Independence, the light night carrier also prepared for a long day. Her fighters would be held on the deck and her Avengers would be seeking out the enemy tonight. Half a mile, the three fleet carriers that had been merely contracts and steel orders when Pearl Harbor was bombed, were organizing deck load strikes even as they waited for orders to launch. Around the five ships, two battleships, four cruisers and a dozen destroyers stood guard. They would absorb as many blows as possible to allow the carriers the chance to launch a second strike in the afternoon.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 0830 March 20, 1945

The radar room's air aboard the heavy cruiser was stale. Men had been staring at the cathode ray tubes for hours. Techs would rotate on for half an hour and then off again for half an hour. Eyes would get strained and minds would get tired. Mistakes could cost lives and ships. Acidic coffee was quickly consumed whenever a steward made a pass through the space.

Outlying picket destroyers had detected a major incoming raid twelve minutes ago. The Corsairs and Hellcats in the standing CAP were already being vectored for interceptions. The ready squadrons aboard the carriers of the task group were starting to claw for altitude. The heavy cruiser would control them once they reached 12,000 feet.

 

[fester]

Munster, Germany, March 20, 1945

A dozen Centurions of the Scots Guards slowly advanced. Ahead of them was a company of infantry. Another company of Guardsmen warily walked along the edges of the road. Their eyes were looking at every window and doorway. Sniper nests and ambush positions abounded. The city itself was silent. No one except the Guardsmen were on the road. All they could see were white bed sheets hanging from balconies and improvised barricades broken up.

Forty five minutes later, the battle group had advanced over a dozen blocks into the town. One man had been sent to the rear with a broken ankle after he slipped stepping between the raised sidewalk and the street. A dog who was looking for food had delayed the column for a minute. Finally they halted when half a dozen middle aged men in civilian suits walked forward along the central public square. They were the mayor and several members of the city council. They made a request to talk to an officer to arrange for the city's honorable surrender.

Half an hour later, it was clear, that the militias that had been ordered to hold the city to their deaths had decided to think about the future instead. Arrangements were soon made to clear the remaining barricades and for unarmed German guides to be attached to British military police units that sought to control the city as well as to facilitate the continued movement to the east.

 

[fester]

Prague, March 20, 1945

The whistle blew. Dozens of civilians put down their mattocks, picks and shovels. They trundled out of the anti-tank ditch that they had been digging for the past week. A horse drawn lunch cart was waiting for them. Half a dozen teenage girls handed out hot tea, coarse bread, hard cheese and pork sausages to the work gangs. They were supervised by a bored squad of the Volksturm who were nervously fingering their expediently made submachine guns. Twenty minutes later, the Volksdeutsch civilians were back to digging another part of a defensive complex.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 0859 Local March 20, 1945

USS Sea Cat started to dive. She had emptied her tubes less than a minute ago. All ten torpedoes sounded as if they were running hot, straight and normal. The stern tubes were targeted at a cruiser. The six forward tubes had been fired at a Hiryu class carrier that had ended flight operations forty minutes ago. As she passed through 150 feet, five torpedoes were heard to explode. When she passed through 250 feet, two more explosions were heard.

The submarine leveled out and went to silent running even as her screws pushed her away at four knots. Before the rear torpedo room could dig out their emergency cribbage board, depth charges were heard entering the water. By the time the first peg was counted, half a dozen explosions were counted a mile away and one hundred feet above the submarine. Two very enthusiastic destroyers were quartering the sea near the launch datum even as the submarine sought to escape through the inner ring of escorts.

 

[fester]

Leopoldsdorf, Austria March 20, 1945

Every gun was ready to fire. Every tank which could be tuned up to at least servicable standards was ready to dash forward. Tens of thousands of riflemen from the entire Empire were in their fox holes and dug-outs waiting for whistles to blow in advance. A dozen squadrons of Tiffys and another half dozen Spitfire squadrons were overhead, lazily circling just a few miles behind the front lines.

The Australians had defeated most the remnants of an SS Panzer Corps over the past two weeks. What remnants they had not beaten, the South African tankers had smashed in a meeting engagement that neither side had wanted at that particular village but both sides stuck to the fight once the first tanks started to brew up. The single corps of Englishmen accompanied by the Yugoslavian partisan army were the follow on attack that took advantage of the collapse of the front which they had pushed forward sixty miles in six days had to stop two days ago to allow the quartermasters' lorries to catch up.

Now tens of thousands of men waited. They waited long enough that the veterans were able to make tea. They waited long enough that the sergeants conducted feet checks. They waited long enough for dice to come out of pockets.

They waited. And then they no longer had to wait.

Vienna would be an open city in six hours. Most of the city's garrison would be allowed to withdraw north with a twelve hour window in which they would not be bombed. The walking wounded and the old man and teen boy militia would remain in place to maintain order within the city. They would maintain personal arms for a day before being processed as prisoners. The city which could have become a abattoir would remain standing.

 

[fester]

Singapore, March 20, 1945

The Canadian merchant ship Fort Stikine exited the Johor Channel. She was bound first for Rangoon and then Bombay loaded with ore, timber and several hundred tons of rubber. The captain waited until the ship was in open water before he relaxed enough to enjoy his tea. It would be another milk run with the strong possibility that he would come back to Singapore after receiving a new assignment in Bombay.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 1425 Local March 20, 1945

The Avenger circled just outside of the heavy anti-aircraft gun range of the enemy fleet. The pilot was not worried about fighters. Eight dozen Hellcats had smashed the Japanese combat air patrol half an hour ago. The overly aggressive and confident Grumman drivers were already claiming at least one hundred and forty kills. The pilot knew that once everyone got back to their carriers and gun camera footage could be cross referenced between aircraft, the actual tally might be forty or fifty kills. A trio of Helldivers and a quartet of Hellcats had been shot down by the Japanese interceptors.

His aircraft had not descended into fast, low attack runs. Intrepid's torpedo squadron had been the first to run the gauntlet. Fourteen aircraft had split into two elements of eight attacking the port quarter of a carrier and six attacking the bow. It shimmied and shook like an overly enthusiastic jitterbug dancer even as every open square foot of deck and sponson space mounted at least a machine gun if not an auto-cannon. Tracers collided with at least three of the bombers. One aircraft hit the sea a mile from the ship, and another limped away after dropping its torpedo with an engine on fire. The pilot was calling for assistance as he attempted to fly as far away from the enemy as he could before the damaged bomber could go no further before belly landing in the modest swells of a calm ocean. If he could make it fifty miles, the float planes from the cruisers of the flak trap screen could readily reach him, the radio operator and the wounded gunner.

Even as the lamed Avenger tried to run for life, thirteen torpedoes were in the water. Four had no chance of hitting anything, they were dropped with too much or much too little lead. The carrier heeled over. Her captain decided that the broadside drop was more dangerous so he turned away from them. Four torpedoes from the anvil churned through the sea. The carrier turned slightly right to dodge the first two, straightened up and headed hard left even as the screws went to full reverse, flinging men and loose items against the bulkheads. The emergency stop allowed another torpedo to run into the wake. A single torpedo slammed into the starboard front quarter, opening up the hull to the sea.

If that was the only damage, the carrier would still be able to fight.

Two squadrons of Helldivers from Essex and Hornet began their dives on the first ship that was damaged. Thousand pound armor piercing bombs began to explode on and around the ship. Even as one carrier was targeted, torpedo bombers, fighters with rockets under their wings and dive bombers started to pick their targets. Most of the fighter bombers targeted the cruisers as the equivalent of five inch shells would not damage the battleships or carriers enough, but they could meaningfully reduce the amount of flak. The Avengers, Helldivers and Dauntlesses were attacking anything big and moving. Some carrier air groups came in as a single fist able to land a haymaker. A carrier that was trying to dodge a torpedo squadron stopped suddenly in the water as first a thousand pound bomb exploded in the main engineering spaces and then a second bomb blew out the magazine. Another carrier was listing seventeen degrees after barely surviving an attack from San Jacinto and Randolf. A battleship was lamed after a eating five torpedoes on the port side. Three more capital ships had taken substantial damage, but they were still pressing forward at eighteen knots or better.

All of this was seen by the pilot and the gunner who had never touched his machine gun in the belly turret. Instead he had a notepad and binoculars for the entire hour the bomber orbited the fleet. As the pilot turned away, the radio operator sent a report to the fleet flagship, New Jersey. Another strike would be needed if the Japanese were looking for a gun battle.

 

[fester]

Strasbourg, France March 20, 1945

Anna Marie leaned forward as she pushed open the door from the railroad commission building to begin her walk to the boarding house across the city. It was Sunday and typically the building was almost empty on Sundays, but the trains that were supplying the Allied armies' pushes need to keep on running so her section had been called in for overtime. The shift itself was unmemorable. A little gossip from Lsye, and, to use her correspondent's delightful phrase, a complete FUBAR on a switching station that was resolvable with phone calls and rescheduling of work gangs.

She pulled her coat tight against her body. The wind was still biting and cold even as the early spring flowers were starting to push through the ground. The loose strands of her hair were buffetted by a breeze. Her hair had regained her luster once she had enough protein and fat to eat. Her weight had increased by three kilograms since her parents died. A steady job and connections with quartermasters willing to help a pretty woman spend her income had paid off. As she walked down the street, her eyes found a crowd of rough looking men and angry women. Similar crowds had roamed the city since its liberation, paying off grudges accumulated over both the past five years and five generations.

Her feet moved quickly as she turned down a side street and then an alley. It was unlikely that anyone knew her or her past, but trouble was best to be avoided if possible. Perhaps the gendarmes or the American MPs would break up the crowd. It had happened before. She kept walking.

Five more minutes and she would be home as she rapidly strode. Five more minutes and she would be safe enough to have a glass of wine while frying spam. Five more minutes.

"Her, her over there.... she was a horizontal" A woman's voice rang out. Anna Marie's mind quickly placed the voice. It was a classmate from lycee. That cow had hated her.

She tried to slip down an alley but the crowd blocked her. She saw anger in eyes and scissors in hands.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 1525 Local March 20, 1945

"Jaroshek, move your ass!"

The recently promoted sailor grunted an acknowledgement. He was moving his ass. The mount captain could see him hauling the clips from the 40 millimeter magazine. There was a chain of men refilling the ready ammunition that had been fired during the last air raid--- half a dozen Jills had lined up to attack Yorktown. They had flown long, straight, low and slow to give their weapons the best chance of connecting. That course also meant that the entire fury of the fleet's automatic weapon firepower could be adjusted and led into each bomber. Four bombers were in the water at least twenty five hundred yards short of the carrier. Only only one torpedo was launched with any accuracy. It missed the dodging carrier by two football fields.

They had a few minutes of rest. The machine gun officer had always done a good job of keeping the gun crews informed. If they looked hard enough to the horizon, they could see contrails and perhaps fireballs as the next raid was being intercepted. Until then, they would reload and wait.

 

[fester]

South of Nagasaki, Japan March 20, 1945

Two squadrons of B-24s accelerated south. Two fresh minefields had been laid. Now the bombers could run back to Okinawa's newly operational airfields. The rest of the bomb group would garden tomorrow as a milk run for operations over Imperial Japan were due to commence in a week.

 

[fester]

Antwerp, Belgium, March 20, 1945

The all clear sounded.

Half a dozen buzz bombs had been shot done by the flak belt outside of the city. One exploded yards from an empty lighter, modestly damaging it. Another blew up in the middle of a cleared channel. Three more overflew the city.

 

[fester]

Stratford, Connecticut March 20, 1945

Another production bird was on the flight line. Three engineers were checking out a recently made tweak to the design. The screws had a few extra threads that they thought would be enough to stop the inspectors from complaining about this particular problem. Flight tests would start tomorrow when the regular shifts arrived.

 

[fester]

West Rhine-Westphalia, March 20, 1945

The viaduct was destroyed. A dozen earthquake bombs had borrowed deep enough into the ground to generate at least some structural instability to the stone and steel structure. That did not matter. One bomb landed four meters east of one of the great support columns, collapsing it in seconds after the explosion. The division that was supposed to respond to British and Canadian advances in the corps sector was now immobilzed until an alternative route could be cleared.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 0100 March 21, 1945

The engine strained. The radar operator never looked up from his screen. He coached the pilot. The rudder soon shifted and the nose of the aircraft moved a few degrees to the right even as it descended.

The rest of the squadron from Enterprise were also lining up their attacks. Torpedoes had been gingerly loaded hours ago as Avengers from the light night carrier kept contact with the Japanese task force. It had been battered by another strike that landed just before night fall. It kept on coming even as crippled and lamed ships sank, scuttled, or were allowed to turn back to the Inland Sea without escorts. The Avenger squadron had overflown a quartet of destroyers that were scouting ahead of the greatly diminished battle line with the hope of giving the battlewagons an hour of warning.

They would not have a chance as a task group whose Admiral was flying his flag aboard Los Angeles and consisted of two other heavy cruisers and five light cruisers along with a destroyer squadron was ready to sweep aside the Japanese outer screen while the American battleline consisting of ships that had fought and won at Trondheim, Corsica, and Makassar along with a pair of new faster battleships with even more capable guns waited for the chance to club cripples.

The first few strings of tracers were wild. The great bulk of a battlehship, black against off black grew. The flak became more intense as the bombers got closer. One Avenger crashed into the sea. No one survived. Another dropped early. Ten bombers pressed their attacks and dropped within 800 yards of a ship that seemed larger than anything that was waiting for battle ninety miles away.

Five of the torpedoes hit the monster. Two wasted themselves on the torpedo defense system. Two ripped modest holes in the hull, letting more water into the already damaged ship, and one ruined the outer port screw's power train. She slowed.

As the Avengers made their way home, they saw gun flashes as American cruisers directed by airborne radars ambushed Japanese destroyers that were relying on elan and optics instead of electronics directing both the search and the guns.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, 0412 March 21, 1945

USS Massachusetts was the first ship in the American battle line. The other short hulled battleships were in the van then the big fast Iowas with Washington whose armor was the least likely to shrug off an 18.1 inch shell took the rear. Cruisers and destroyers had clashed with the outer edge of the Japanese screen for the past ninety minutes. Montpelier had lost her radar and her aft battery had been reduced by half from a few shells landing high on the ship, cutting wires and jamming the turret. A destroyer had a half dozen dead, but the screen had effectively clubbed the four Japanese destroyers like they were baby seals. Two cruisers and a destroyer division per enemy ship was just a slightly unfair fight.

The Big Mamie started to slightly turn to port by a point and then another one. Her rear turret was now cleared even as her armor was still angling into the enemy. Three large battleships were still pushing forward. Spotters could see the secondary batteries of the lead ship fire as Fletchers and Bensons pushed home their attacks. The radar plot was continually refined. Once the admiral aboard USS New Jersey , experienced through victories in the Norewegian and Ligurrian Seas as well as the Straits of Makassar, saw that range was down to 27,000 yards, he gave orders for the battle line to fire.

Eleven seconds later, two turrets fired their first ranging shots. Within a minute there were forty tons of steel tipping over and accelerating to the precisely calculated points in the sea where the gunnery officers predicted a battleship would be in mere seconds.

 

[fester]

Sankt Polten, Austria, March 21, 1945

"ON THE WAY....."

The Churchill's cannon fired. The high explosive shell missed the machine gun nest by a few feet. A smoke grenade began to mask the tank and the section of infantrymen from Perth who were now making themselves small as they laid down a suppressive base of fire. The tank's machine gun started to chatter again before the cannon from the second tank fired. The German machine gun nest was now silent.

The advance continued.

 

[fester]

USS Massachusetts, Western Pacific 0453, March 21, 1945

The short hulled ship shuddered. A 14 inch shell from HIEI punched through the splinter deck before wasting itself against the main deck armor. Damage control center soon reported no casualties and no degradation to the fighting capacity of the ship from the first damage she had taken during the battle. Soon her guns roared again. Nine super heavy shells raced to a point 22,800 yards away. The shells tipped over and gained speed as gravity overtook the force of the propellant's conflagration. Seven shells punched holes into the sea. One shell scraped the already damaged bow of the battlecruiser. If the last shell had not penetrated the forward turret's roof, there would be no meaningful damage to a ship that could now only make 27 knots. However, the super heavy shell punched through the steel atop the twin turret, activating a fuse that splayed thousands of super heated steel shards in the complex array of machinery that was bringing bags of propellent up to the waiting gun crews. The turret catastrophically failed and only the incredibly rapid reaction of the turret officer who prevented a catastrophic powder explosion.

 

[fester]

Deggendorf, Germany March 21, 1945

Every rifleman nervously walked forward. The point man had his eyes rapidly moving left and right, up and down. They were walking into an ideal ambush position as they walked across a bridge spanning the Danube. But no one was firing. It was not just because there were a trio of Shermans and a quartet of half tracks a few dozen yards behind the rifle platoon. The lead tank had its cannon pointed down the street while the second tank was aiming at the buildings on the left side and the trailer was covering the right side. The half track gunners kept their machine guns swiveling across their zones every few seconds.

No, it was an unusual sight. Every house had a white sheet either hanging from the second floor balcony or covering a first floor window. There was almost no one in the streets besides a few scared dogs. The point man nervously stepped forward as a screech broke the monotony of clanging tracks of the tanks. He was ready to shoot until he saw two tom cats claw at each other in the first alley that he walked past.

An hour later, a captain from battalion had hurried forward to take the surrender of the town from the mayor. The platoon kept on walking until they were out of town. Riflemen quickly scrambled to grab cigarettes and snacks from bags left in the half tracks before they mounted up and headed east to keep on pushing until they finally found the next line of German resistance.

 

[fester]

Western Pacific, Dawn March 21, 1945

USS Essex turned into the wind. A squadron of Hellcats with rockets under their wings were warming up their engines. An even ten Avengers with heavy antiship torpedoes in their bellies began their runs down the deck, dipping slightly once their wheels left the wood and gripped the cool mist filled morning air before the General Motors built bombers clawed for altitude.

Half a mile away the other two fleet carriers in the task group were also launching strikes to finish off whatever cripples that had survived a ninety minute brawl with the American battle line.