Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2

[fester]

Southern Makassar Strait, 1608 January 2, 1943


The last Avenger had landed aboard USS Saratoga. The deck was crowded, the hangers even more so. A dozen aircraft were busily being stripped for anything useful before they were heaved over the side. Destroyers were spread out over a thirty mile trail picking up aircrews from the planes that had to ditch due to battle damage. The carrier was packed. Most of Lexington’s airgroup had landed on the big ship. Some of the Wildcats had diverted to Enterprise and Constellation, while somehow a trio of Dauntlesses landed on Furious despite the pilots never having trained on the bat signals that the British used.

The CAG looked down and counted the aircraft that would be available tomorrow as reinforcements for TF-16. He looked at the sheet of paper that kept track of the known dead, missing and wounded. He would soon leave PriFly and head down to the ready rooms to hear the debriefs. After that, he would be in sick bay to talk with the wounded men. He would authorize medicinal brandy for any man who had been on the strike. And then after night fell, he would start writing letters for the men whom he would never see again.

Losses were “light” for the damage that was being claimed but the light losses included men whom he had gone to Pensacola and flew with for the first time. They included men who had 2,000 hours in the air. They included men who had been aboard Saratoga since before the war started. They included men who had shipped aboard fresh from advanced training and whom he barely knew as all of the twenty two year olds looked and sounded the same to him. They included men who had dreams and hopes and families who would be broken when they received the telegram from Western Union. Light losses, yes, but painful losses to the man who would be writing letters for the next week.

 

[fester]

Aboard HMS Ark Royal, 1608 January 2, 1943

He sipped his tea.

Chaos was erupting on the flight deck below him. Pilots that were ready to take-off looked confused. Deck crew were putting chocks underneath the wheels of the first wave. Angry shouts were coming out of the cockpits and being returned from the flight decks. Pilots were storming towards the island as they did not know why the strike was being held back.

He sipped his tea as Ark Royal began a turn from the southeast where the wind was over her deck to dead north. Flight operations were over as the heavily laden torpedo bombers could not take off on this course. The three other carriers also were turning to follow the flagship. Engines slowed slightly from thirty knots to only an efficient twenty five knots as the Admiral knew that his destroyer skippers were losing their mind as they thought about their fuel reserves.

Several decks below him, he could hear flight leaders and squadron commanders bellow in frustration. And then he heard stunned silence when they were informed that they were to hunt bigger game tonight. He would need to go down to the squadron rooms in a moment where he could lean on his years of credibility to explain the new information. His men, his pilots, his crews would have the chance to Trafalgar an enemy if they would only be patient.

 

[fester]

Northeastern Makassar Strait, 1620 January 2, 1943

Tromp turned hard to port. Her sister followed twenty seconds later and then the American heavy cruiser took a slightly wider turn as soon as her bow entered the knuckle in the lead ships’ wakes. New orders had been received, deconded, translated and resent to the task force. Support was coming north and the remnants of TF-66 were to rendezvous with the battle fleet just north of Paleware.

Aboard Quincy, the captain turned over the deck to the normal watch stander. He left the bridge and went to his cabin. He had been awake since 0200 and his head barely touched the pillow before he was asleep. Action was still promised for tonight, but he would have a chance to see the morning. Now he needed a rested body and a fast mind to give his ship the best chance to survive the promised chaos tonight. His steward would wake him in two hours.

 

[fester]

Northwestern Makassar Strait, 1630 January 2, 1943

The Catalina had to break off. A single Zero was hunting her. A burst of cannon fire had already killed the engineer and burst open an almost empty fuel tank. The lumbering amphibian found a large cloud and flew blindly southwest towards Borneo.

Behind her, the wreckage of the Japanese carrier fleet was strewn over forty miles. Hiryu, accompanied by two destroyers, had finally managed to extinguish her fires. Heroic damage control efforts that had killed a sixth of her crew had somehow contained the damage. Her engines still worked and she was moving north at eight knots towards a year long stay in a shipyard if no new problems were discovered.

Hiryu passed by her sister. Soryu was still barely afloat. The bow was in the troughs of waves even as she listed at eighteen degrees. Torpedo scars were still letting in water. All survivors had been taken off an hour ago. The carrier would have been able to survive the two torpedoes. It was possible she could have survived the two general purpose one thousand pound bombs. She would have been struggling to survive the four deep penetrating one thousand pound armored piercing bombs that destroyed a turbine room and opened up aviation fuel tanks. All of those wounds combined were clearly fatal. A destroyer with hundreds of survivors was slowly maneuvering to fire a point blank range spread of torpedoes.

Zuikahu was barely able to conduct flight operations. The forward elevator was stuck in the raised position. Fuel lines were inoperable so fighters had to topped off by hand. Sixty seven aircraft were aboard, the remnants of the great aerial armadas that Japan had fielded that morning. She had launched four Zeroes to reinforce the CAP until the fighters came down for the night. As soon as the flight deck had been opened up once again, she turned to the north and began to head home.

Shokaku was a barely moving wreck. Two boilers were destroyed. Crews trying to light one of three extinguished boilers. Other men were still fighting a fire that had been stopped a compartment from the bomb magazine. Water was being poured into the ship by the firefighters and from dozens of broken seams. Canvas stuck hard to her hull. The temporary patches slowed the inflow of water. Her pumps had not reversed the tide but had fought the flows to almost even. There was a chance that she could still be saved.

Akagi by now was merely a debris field. A bomb had detonated a few yards from an avgas tank. Fragments had broken open the tanks and within minutes an uncontrollable fire had started to consume the ship. Half an hour after the last bomb struck, an tremendous explosion broke the carrier’s back. Ninety seven seconds after the explosion, she turned turtle and took almost her entire crew to the bottom.

 

[fester]

Northern Mouth of the Makassar Strait, 1640 January 3, 1943

Four more destroyers had just joined the screen. Their decks were empty of survivors from the forward force. The rescue ships had retreated northward covering the damaged heavy cruiser. Now they would take the port flank guard position three miles from the left hand column of battleships. Seven battleships continued to surge south. Speed had slowed slightly from twenty three knots to twenty one knots as oil consumption calculations weighed heavily on the tactical options. The slower speed now would give the cruisers and destroyers more time at full power tonight. It would barely delay the battle.

The admiral aboard the seventy thousand ton flagship was still pressing on. He had just received a more complete briefing on the losses of the Kido Butai. Three carriers were limping north, and three carriers had settled on the seabed. Six carriers out of action. Six American or British carriers sunk. The last air strike that claimed Akagi and Shokaku was just large enough to have come from the three carriers that the mid-afternoon strike had sunk. The timing was right that the carriers had launched right before they were hit. This battle was far more expensive than he had thought it would have been, but decisive battles are seldom cheaply fought even in victory.

In another ninety minutes, two battles cruisers and half a dozen lesser ships would be joining him. They were from the no longer needed carrier screen. They would take point and fight through any enemy forward screen. They would also give him nine big gun ships. No more than five enemy battleships had been seen. Breaking through the battle line and getting the cruisers amongst the transports would leave 50,000 American Marines dead or dying. A defeat like this would rock the soft Americans to the core. That would be worth a battleship or two.

He ordered a slight turn to 187 and the fleet continued to enter the strait.

 

[fester]

Southern Celebes Sea, 1710 January 2, 1943

HMS Truant turned northwest at 10 knots. New orders had been received and decoded. The entire squadron’s patrol line was being shifted from an east to west line to a northwest to southeast line anchored on the shallows of the Borneo coast. There were cripples heading north.

 

[fester]

Makassar, 1730 January 2, 1943


Sixty medium bombers started to climb. They had made the long journey from the airfields just east of Surabaya at 5,000 feet. Their attack altitude was slotted to be between 8,000 and 10,000 feet depending on the squadron. Forty twin engine fighters were five miles ahead and two miles above the bombers. They were slowly increasing power and making longer and larger weaves to not detach themselves from their charges.

They had passed over ships of all sorts. Fat oilers slowly moving in a well patrolled box were the first ships they overflew. A pair of converted light cruisers that carried critical supplies for the beachhead were seen. The gunners on those ships tracked and almost fired on the bombers. And then the bombers saw a damaged carrier limping back to the port that they had left.

Now the bombers were seeing their target. Pilots tightened up formations and gunners scanned the sky. Ahead of them the fighters were tangling with the few Japanese interceptors that were either on patrol or had managed to scramble. Anti-aircraft shells started to burst over the harbor and then nearer to the airfield, the first bomber went down. And then bombs started to drop. Some were on target, some were close and some were going wide and long.

Fifty eight bombers headed back out to sea as the Makassar runways were damaged yet again.

 

[fester]

Central Makassar Strait 1800, January 2, 1943


The battle force was shaking out in formation. The three King George V's would fight as a single division while the two South Dakotas and the single North Carolina class battleship would fight as their own division as well. The lighter forces were more challenging. The Royal Navy cruisers and destroyers were armed and trained to fight slashing torpedo battles while the Americans placed far more weight and reliance on their cruisers’ guns. The solution was simple. The Royal Navy and Australians would be in the van and engaged side flank while the Americans had the rear and near escort positions. They had drilled these possibilities before and now the ships were slotting into position neatly even as they advanced to battle at twenty five knots.

 

[fester]

Southern Celebes Sea, 1825 January 2, 1943


The light carrier turned north. Two destroyers guarded her. Flight operations were done for the day after the last torpedo bomber landed from a luckless anti-submarine patrol. She was to hold her position in a small operating box until after midnight before steaming south to support the fleet in the morning with fighter cover and scouts looking for the Allied amphibious fleet near Parepare.

 

[fester]

Near Parepare 1830, January 2, 1943


LST-2, LST-11, LST-14 formed a rough line. Ahead of them, USS Broadbill, a new minesweeper, chivied a mostly empty assault transport into place. The five ships soon cleared the rest of the support fleet and accelerated to eleven knots as they headed south by southwest. Other gaggles of ships were also making final cargo runs ashore before they could scatter for potential safety.

 

[fester]

Central Makassar Strait, 1635 January 2, 1943


Two hours the fleet had been running to the north. The American carriers had been left far behind as they slowly moved to the southwest away from the impending action. Now the carriers and their closest escorts turned hard to starboard and allowed the southeast wind to run across the deck.

Minutes later, the first of thirty seven torpedo bombers took off from the four carriers. Another eleven aircraft carried either raid coordinators or flares. The Albacores from Victorious headed north first, they would be bypassed by the far faster Avengers soon enough. Each squadron would carry out their own attack without plans to coordinate strikes by the four carriers. They had a position and there was a trio of RAF Sunderlands almost ready to hold the enemy formation tight throughout the night with radars.

Before the dusk turned into night, the carriers turned north again while a second, smaller wave warmed up.

 

[fester]

The Inland Sea, 1840 January 2, 1943

The carrier Hiyo and a pair of second class destroyers finished securing themselves to the buoys in the fleet anchorage. Today had been a successful day, four hundred touch and go landings and one hundred and eighteen actual take-offs and landings. One pilot had disqualified himself from continuation but the rest had passed. Night launches would proceed next week for this current class of trainees.

 

[fester]

USS Enterprise, 1900 January 2, 1943


The flight deck was closed. The last plane had been brought below. Half a dozen aluminum skeletons had been pushed over the side. The fleet was changing course from the southeast to southwest. Screws slowed from a flight operations speed of twenty eight knots to a far more efficient twenty two knots. The deck division had another hours worth of work before they could turn in for dinner and a few hours of sleep. Task Force 16 was scheduled to rendezvous with the tankers to top off the destroyers and refill the avgas tanks aboard the carriers. It would not be a complete refueling but enough to keep Admiral Kinkaid’s ulcer under control.


Below the flight deck, work crews were repairing dozens of battle damaged aircraft. Some fixes were simple. A quick patch and a wing was whole again. Others required ripping out an engine and either repairing blown cylinders or replacing the entire P&W. All of the spare aircraft that had been lofted overhead were down on the deck and being checked out. Aircraft from Saratoga and Lexington had landed aboard Enterprise and her sisters. Those bombers would flesh out the ranks in the morning.


Above the busy mechanics, a small cluster of men brought up several canvas covered bodies from sick bay. They rested near an anti-aircraft gun mount where a five inch shell was placed into the bottom of each sack and a sailor threaded a needle around the top of the sacks. The last stitch was through the nose.


The Chaplain began a brief service. Pilots and air gunners leaned on each other as their own mortality was being reflected. Friends and crew mates were being committed to the deep tonight. Others would just never be coming back as their aircraft had been shot down attacking battleships and carriers or had just disappeared sometime between take-off and expected landing times. Tomorrow they could be in the bag.

 

[fester]

West of Parepare, 1945 January 2, 1943


USS Quincy slowed. The run to the south was over.

The forward signalman blinked the light quickly several times and then slowly twice and then quickly again. The challenge had been accepted. Turrets shifted back to the central line and away from the Royal Navy destroyer that was the vanguard of an incredible amount of firepower heading north. A second brief message was passed with orders for the three cruisers and their escorting destroyers.

Quincy and her consorts headed south. They would be the rear guard for the battle fleet. The Dutch cruisers were too weak to be in the van of a gun battle where armoured piercing shells might not even be activated when hitting their thin armor. Instead they would make sure that no Japanese destroyers were able to get a surprise torpedo run in.

 

[fester]

Northwest of Parepare, 2002 January 2, 1943


The guns aboard USS Washington barked again. Another star shell exploded in the southern sky. Half a dozen searchlights were focusing. A dozen voices were on a dozen radios screaming at the idiots aloft.


The Avengers from Indomitable broke off. A Scottish brogue apologized and then headed north.

 

[fester]

Northeast Makassar Strait 2045 January 2, 1943


Men were drinking tea and eating rice balls. They had been at their battle stations for anti-aircraft and anti-submarine action during the daylight. Since dusk, shifts had been rotating for food and short rests. A third of the guns were manned and ready, while the rest would be ready to shoot in mere minutes. This quasi-relaxed state aboard the mighty Yamato would cease in another hour as the main turrets would be fully manned and buttoned up. Until then, the crews could rest so that they could shoot their best tonight.


The drone of engines broke the quiet of the night. Sharped eyed look-outs were straining their night adjusted eyes to connect noise with objects. The pale sliver of a moon did not help. The first machine guns did not fire until after an Avenger from Ark Royal had dropped a string of flares between the two columns of battleships.

Hyuga was bathed in the descending glare. She turned out of line and guns started to fire in the general direction of the anticipated attack. Every second brought her bow slightly more to the west while the rest of the fleet continued to head south. Every second brought another gun on line. Star shells were now being fired by her secondary battery and the brilliant white light offered glimpses of stubby attackers skittering along the surface like dragonflies hunting a meal. A brilliant red ball erupted as somehow shells intersected with an attacker.

It did not matter. Ten torpedoes were in the water. Eight torpedoes were running close to the track of the battleship, two were clearly ahead as the pilots had not anticipated the turn. The attacking squadron turned away even before a pair of detonations caused an impromptu braking by seawater to slow the battleship from twenty three knots to twelve knots. Power was out in half the ship and an engine room was flooding from the damage. Within minutes, damage control crews had isolated the damage and dogged every hatch as they then started to battle to save their ship and themselves.


Seven miles away, Yamato continued south even as more aircraft engines were heard and a few blips were seen on radars.

 

[fester]

Central Makassar Strait, 2048 January 2, 1943

HMS Liverpool turned to the west and accelerated. She was dark again. Off to the north, the noise of a dozen aircraft engines receded. Victorious’ Albacores were still on their way. The light cruiser was a navigational checkpoint for the strikers. She was also a checkpoint for some of the Avengers that were already returning. Ark Royal’s and Furious’ squadrons had passed. Indomitable strikers were on the radar although at least one flight was missing. When they got close, Liverpool would turn on her search lights and wave them south before fleeing the datum.

 

[fester]

Southern Celebes Sea 2050 January 2, 1943

USS Grouper was motoring on the surface. The moon was hidden behind clouds. Look-outs were straining to see bumps and breaks of the horizon. The radar was probing the darkness. Four other fleet boats were also motoring to the northeast out of the Makassar Strait. Cripples were out and about.

The patrol line was tightening up to only two thirds of the normal intervals for this type of mission. Any ship spotted would be mobbed. An initial miss would only matter as to who would be able to brag and who would need to buy beers at the O-club at Batavia or Pearl Harbor. Beneath the sail, the radar operator focused. The young man fresh from qualifying for his dolphins had only been looking at the scope for the past half hour. The other radarman on the watch was alternating short shifts with him so that their eyes would stay fresh and their minds alert.

There was fuzz. His eyes lit up and his brain sharpened. The twenty two year old focused and within seconds, there was a firm enough contact to tell his PO.

The PO glanced and confirmed.

The chase was on.

 

[fester]

Aboard Yamato 2147 January 2, 1943

Hyūga was by herself and lagging behind the fleet. A pair of destroyers had been detached to support and escort her. She had eaten another torpedo from Furious. The light cruiser Nagara had been targeted by the full strike from Indomitable. They had misidentified her. She was bigger than the destroyers that had been spotted and was sending an incredible barrage of anti-aircraft fire in the general direction of the strikers. She had to be a battleship so they sent nine torpedoes her way. Seven missed. Two were enough to send her down by the bow.

Aboard Yamato, tea was being passed out. Anti-aircraft gunners were still at their stations as the next wave of torpedo bombers came in. This time the Albacores from Victorious struck true. A pair of flare spotters made a long, slow, low run behind Yamato and in front of her slightly younger sister. One crashed after a 25 millimeter shell killed the pilot.

The other ten bombers pressed hard. Nine dropped while the last one hit the water in flames. Eight survived the egress. Seven torpedoes ran hot, straight and true. The mighty battleship turned into the attack trying to be skinnier than a debutante fitting into her first corset despite her Rubenesque physique. Much like that debutante, Yamato failed to be skinny enough but the turn allowed six of the torpedoes run down her flanks like an illicit lover’s hands. A torpedo burst fruitlessly against the port torpedo defense system. The battleship slowed slightly as water entered the outer voids.

Thirty minutes later, she was back at fleet speed, down six inches due to counterflooding and ready for battle.

 

[fester]

Celebes Sea 2217, January 2, 1943


HMS Truant accelerated. A call had just come in of a sighting by HMS Triumph to the south. The rest of the squadron would soon converge on the prey.