Destroyermen

Author's note

Every human naval vessel named in Destroyermen was real. On February 27, 1942, the old Langley—America's first aircraft carrier—was mortally wounded by Japanese planes while carrying P-40 fighters to Java. On the night of February 28­March 1, 1942, Houston and Perth stumbled upon three Japanese cruisers and nine destroyers protecting a swarm of transports. Both were finally sunk after an epic fight in the Battle of the Sunda Strait.

(The only ship in the Asiatic Fleet with radar was the cruiser Boise, which had long since been sent to the States for repairs after striking a reef. The Japanese had no radar either, but they did have control of the air.)

On March 1, 1942, Pope, Exeter, and Encounter were destroyed by a combined Japanese force, including four heavy cruisers, while attempting to escape Surabaya and reach Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). Barring any mistakes that I take full responsibility for, and a little dramatic license with the pace and sequence of events, everything that took place or was mentioned to have happened in Destroyermen up to that point is true. The only exception is that Walker and Mahan were not there. Neither was Amagi.

The addition of two "four-stackers" and yet another Japanese capital ship would have made absolutely no difference to the historical outcome of that lopsided struggle. Pope, Exeter, and Encounter would have been destroyed regardless; the odds against them were simply too great. The only change to the history books (minus the Squall, of course) would have been two more rusting hulks at the bottom of the Java Sea—even before Amagi came along. But they were real.

As designed, Amagi was a thing to behold. At 47,000 tons, 826 feet long, and 101 feet wide, she was larger and more powerful than most of the battleships of her time. She would have been about the same size as the much later American Iowa-class battleships. It's possible she would have been converted to an aircraft carrier like her sisters, but she was never completed. Badly damaged by an earthquake in 1922 while still under construction, she was scrapped.

The story of Walker and Mahan is a little more involved. More than 270 "four-stacker" destroyers were built for the United States Navy during and immediately after World War I. They were built quickly (some being launched in as few as fourteen days) and were never intended to last more than thirty years—which some of them actually did. Already outdated, they remained in service throughout the 1920s and 1930s and ultimately fought in every theater during World War II.

Many didn't last that long. Because of restrictions on the numbers and tonnage of warships agreed upon at the Washington Naval Conference, many "four-stackers" languished in mothballs for years. Over time, some reentered service when an active destroyer was lost or wore out. Some were used for parts. A lot were converted into damage-control hulks or just simply scrapped. A few were even sold into the merchant service. One literally became a banana boat. Fifty were given/sold/traded to the British at the outbreak of World War II. Most that survived to fight in World War II were modified to one degree or another into minesweepers, fast transports, convoy escorts, seaplane tenders, and so on.

The point is, by the time the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, even the conservative, arguably moribund United States Navy knew the old "fourstackers" were obsolete, yet they used them anyway. This is not meant as criticism of the Navy—far from it. They used what they had. It was Congress that refused to build "up" even to the restrictions imposed by the Washington Treaty. It was this policy that left antique—and, in the case of the Asiatic Fleet, WWI surplus that hadn't even been altered or updated—ships to stand against the very cream of the Japanese Imperial Navy, the most modern and powerful in the world.

Walker and Mahan are presented in Destroyermen as two of these unlucky stepchildren, but in reality—the reality of the universe in which we reside—they were two of the ones that didn't make it. After sixteen years on "red lead row," Walker was slated to become a damage-control hulk, but she was scuttled seventeen days after the Pearl Harbor attack. Mahan was scrapped in 1931. Interestingly, both ships were involved in at least one epic undertaking: They served as pickets during the Navy's historic NC-flying-boat transatlantic flights. In any event, neither ship had a wartime record, so I felt less constrained in giving them a fictional, representative one.

If there are any old destroyermen out there who served on DD-102 or DD-163, you certainly have my respect and gratitude, and I mean no disrespect toward the honorable service of either ship. Instead, I hope you will join me in engaging in a little "what if?" As Captain Reddy said, "All historians do it, whether they admit it or not."

Obviously, Destroyermen is set, for the most part, within the context of an alternate universe. The fascinating possibility of one or many alternate/parallel universes has long provided wonderful worlds for sciencefiction/fantasy writers to explore. Even more fascinating is the growing scientific speculation that they might actually exist. Unfortunately, none of these new theories, attitudes, or even popular culture perceptions could be referenced in Destroyermen. The characters' perceptions of the alternate/ parallel universe must be viewed from the perspective that they had: a perspective prevalent in the 1940s, particularly among Asiatic Fleet destroyermen. I hope I have managed to capture that.

Unlike many stories involving a similar premise, the universe the destroyermen cross to is not just slightly skewed; it is the result of a profoundly and fundamentally altered evolutionary path. The "dinosaurs" in the story are depicted somewhat from whim, but with at least a little more modern perspective than the characters are able to perceive them. We now know so much more about dinosaurs than we did even when I was a kid—we have virtually started from scratch. Compared to those destroyerman in 1942, we live in an extremely enlightened age—at least as far as dinosaurs are concerned—so before you say, "What an idiot! Doesn't he know brontosauruses weren't real?" Yeah, I do. But the destroyermen don't.

My childhood books depicted dinosaurs as bloated, lizard-like beasts slouching along dragging their tails, or spending most of their days bobbing about in lakes or seas because they were too fat to stand. Tyrannosaurus was cool because he had lots of teeth, but his tail was just a third leg so he could stand upright like a man. And if anybody ever mentioned a dinosaur, the first thing that popped into your mind was the brontosaurus.

We now know the brontosaurus was a myth—a hoax—an extra head bone stuck on a decapitated apatosaurus skeleton. But in 1942, brontosaurus was real. It was the symbol by which any dinosaur would be judged and identified as such. Anything that looked remotely like a sauropod would immediately be called or compared to a "brontosaurus"—even by someone as learned at Courtney Bradford.

In our universe, dinosaurs have been extinct for around 65 million years. In Destroyermen, this is not the case. Those same prehistoric creatures have not remained stagnant. Everything has evolved beyond what the fossil record teaches us—the flora, fauna, the very ecology, and, because of that, even the geography to a certain extent. The "extinction event" is the obvious diversion point between the two realities, but there have still been ice ages, droughts, floods, and other cataclysmic events that would cause other extinctions and guide evolution for 65 million years. But "brontosaurus" remains. Stunted, perhaps, but physically similar to what the destroyermen expect to see.

Brontosaurus—or whatever it is the destroyermen call brontosaurus— is an amazingly well-adapted creature. Nature has been trying to replace him ever since he went away, but without too much success. Crossbreed a giraffe and an elephant and we would have him, I guess. Anyway, as long as there was green, leafy stuff to eat he wouldn't have to change. He would get smaller in the jungles of Indonesia, though, just like the elephants that live there today are smaller than their African counterparts. In fact, there's evidence that sauropods—and those that hunted them—were actually smaller in densely forested regions.

The Grik are descended from one of the many species of "raptors," as they're now inclusively known. They were relatively small, aggressive, possibly even cunning creatures that may have hunted in packs. If so, that would imply cooperative and therefore social behavior. Regardless of size, this gives them a leg up, in my estimation, on the ladder to the top of the evolutionary heap.

The seas are so hostile for a lot of reasons, but mainly because the creatures that lived there 65 million years ago sure scare me to death, and my imagination runs rampant with how terrifying they could become if they had a little more time. Also, if they're in the water you can't even shoot them—usually.

Almost alone among the creatures of this different earth that remained unchanged are sharks, crocodiles—and the mythical brontosaurus. Sharks and crocs are still here, even after the ancient unpleasantness that wiped out everything else. Compared to that, I imagine they would manage to cope with a little more persistent competition.

Considering that competition, one begins to wonder how mammals might have fared. Not too well, according to some scientists. In the tropical regions in which the Grik thrive, an isolated domain—thus Madagascar— would be needed for mammals to evolve to a sentient level. Let's face it, if humanity did spring from Africa, our ancestors wouldn't have lasted very long in constant contact with the Grik. Let us hope they were at least thought of as "worthy prey."

But what of the cooler climes? Remember, the destroyermen that came through the Squall have been able to sample only a very small part of this new world they find themselves in. A relatively isolated and environmentally homogeneous part. What amazing discoveries might they make once they are able to do more than "float about," as Courtney Bradford would say? But again, what if?