Devil's Garden

Chapter 24

“Saito sent this message?”

Togo was meeting with Vice Admiral Kamimura now in the headquarters office at Maizuru. “How was it the report reached him so quickly?”

“There was quite a stir in the Tsugaru Strait, Admiral. Crewmen off the Kanto Maru were telling wild stories when they returned to port with the survivors. Kawase’s 9th Torpedo Boat Division was training there, and they went to investigate. Now Kawase is telling wild stories.”

“What stories? What do you mean?”

“Only that the ship responsible for this attack was very large, certainly a battleship. It looked like a great dragon at sea, or so the fishermen now say.”

“Fishermen see many things at sea that are never there,” said Togo. “But what did Commander Kawase see? His word I can believe.”

“The same report, sir-a very large ship. Kawase was wise not to engage, and requested instructions. Apparently a telegraph was sent directly to Saito in Tokyo, and it was he who sent this message in return.”

“The scroll was unsigned. That is most unusual.”

“Yet the signal referenced his name and office, sir. It was Saito.”

“Please make any arrangement necessary to settle this matter,” Togo read the scroll aloud again. “What he really means is settle the matter quietly. He merely hands it all to me. Very well, we will settle the matter. I can read enough between the lines on that scroll to know that Saito wants this handled with as little fuss as possible, and without provoking a major international incident. He has recently been questioned by the European reporters concerning dispositions of the fleet with the American Navy approaching.”

“Yes, they seem somewhat anxious. The London Times has been circulating all those rumors about the plan to attack the Great White Fleet. Saito has had his hands full of late. Did you read his statement to the reporters? Here it is, in today’s paper: Vice-Admiral Baron Saito, the Japanese Minister of Marine affairs, declares that he is willing to make an announcement as to the disposition of the fleet and the intentions of the Government with regard to it, if there is any real need to allay the excitement said to exist in America, but that the suggestion of aggressive designs on the part of Japan is so utterly baseless as hardly to be worth attention.”

“Just like Saito,” said Togo. “He uses five words when one will do, and puts legs on a snake. Well…Before we can assure him that this will be settled quietly, we must first know what we are dealing with. Tonight I must leave Maizuru for Kure and the main fleet. I do not anticipate we will need more than your division here, Kamimura, but we will be ready should you need us.”

“I’m sure we can handle a single Russian ship, sir.”

There it was again, that strange feeling of presentiment, a swell of unaccountable anxiety emerging from within. Togo was standing, staring out the window at the growing columns of smoke as the ships in the harbor fired their coal burning stoves and boilers. He turned to Kamimura, a distant look in his eye.

“Take your squadron as far north as Wajima on the Noto Peninsula,” he said quietly. “See what you find there.”

“What if we find this ship, sir?”

“Get in close. Have a good long look. See what they have to say.”

“And if they fire on us or try to escape?”

“Your cruisers will easily outrun a Russian battleship, if that is what this truly is. Besides, I believe the sight of your battle line will chasten this ship.”

“They won’t like the fact that we have Tango and Mishima along. It may enflame the situation. Perhaps we should leave them here. They will only slow us down.”

“No. The battleships will sail with you. You may lead with your cruisers, and break off into a separate squadron if the action requires it. I leave this to your judgment. Certainly the sight of their old battleships now flying the standard of the Imperial Japanese Navy will gall them. That is my intention. If they say anything about it with their guns you can tell them they can either surrender their ship as well, or there will be one less Russian battleship at sea. But do not fire first. If hostilities break out it must not be said that Japan has struck the first blow.”

“Wasn’t Tatsu Maru enough, sir?”

You may ask them about that. See what they respond, and keep me informed. I should reach Kure about the time you get up north.”

“Very good, sir.” Kamimura saluted, ready to go to his flagship, the armored cruiser Izumo.

“One thing more,” said Togo.

“Sir?”

“Be careful, Kamimura…Be careful.”

* * *

“Con. Radar. Surface contact bearing 195 degrees from the southwest. Speed 18 knots. I read eight separate returns.”

“Eight contacts?” Rodenko wanted to see the returns on the screen. Sure enough, there was an obvious battle line of eight surface ships cruising in formation, strung out like pearls on a string.” He walked to the forward view screen, looking at the horizon and seeing a distant smudge of charcoal in the sky.

“Activate Tin Man opticals.”

“Aye sir,” said Nikolin. “Feeding the image to the overhead display, sir.”

The high-res video feed was somewhat hazy given the distance, but Rodenko saw enough to be concerned. These were not commercial ships, nor were they tiny patrol boats like those that had approached the ship earlier in the Tsugaru Straits. Kirov had turned south, and skirted north of the long Noto peninsula that protruded from the mainland like a bent finger, pointing at the island of Sado off Japan’s northwest coast.

It was mid-day and the ship was sailing under clear skies and bright sun five miles off the relatively deserted cape of Onaga-saki. A high hill rose to a height of 285 meters there, right on the bent knuckle of the finger of the peninsula. The Tin Man opticals were good enough that they could clearly see the two sizable guns mounted in a round turret on the forward deck of the lead ship. Behind this was the bridge and conning section, with three stacks amidships and two tall masts that looked like those one might see on a sailing ship of old. Rodenko had no doubt that there were men high up in the crow’s nests of those masts, scanning the seas ahead. If they had not already spotted Kirov, they soon would.

“Range, Mister Yeremenko. Always include range in your contact reports.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I read contact range at 48,520 meters and closing at 70kph factoring in our present speed of 20 knots.”

Now Rodenko wished he had Fedorov at hand to tell him what these ships were. They were not as formidable as the warships they had faced in WWII, but yet those guns looked threatening and he wasn’t sure of their range. He decided to turn out to sea and watch how the oncoming ships reacted.

“Helm, come right ten degrees and steady on 220.”

“Sir, my rudder is right and coming to 220, aye.”

He thought for some time before he gave his next order, as he was certain that it would immediately bring the Captain to the bridge. Kirov had the speed to avoid a conflict here, and Rodenko had that uppermost in mind as he walked to the navigation plot with a question.

“Mister Kalinichev, if I come to 230 and increase to 30 knots can that contact still intercept?”

“Kalinichev made some quick calculations, using a light pen on the Plexi screen to denote the new heading. The computer quickly put up a predictive plot.

“Sir, the computer indicates possible interception here, but the contact would have to increase to twenty knots.”

“What do we have to steer to avoid them?”

“We would have to come another fifteen or twenty points to starboard beyond 230, sir. If we steer anything under 250 they will come within 5000 meters. At 255 the best they can do is 10,000 meters. At 260 that range increases to 15,000 meters, and so on.”

Rodenko considered that, knowing that each minute he hesitated would bring the ships closer. The WWII ships they had faced earlier could easily fire out to 15,000 meters. Would the guns on these ships have the same range? The Captain had been studying Fedorov’s books, and now Rodenko realized he should have prepared himself better as well. There was no excuse for not knowing the capabilities of the enemy he might be facing here, yet it was partly because he did not wish to immediately see these ships as foes that he hesitated.

He had complained to the Captain that he heard the forward deck gun firing with no call to action stations. In less than 30 minutes these ships could possibly have the range to engage them. What should he do?

“The ship will come to level two alert,” he said quietly.

“Sir, sounding general quarters at level two.”

“Helm please come to course 270 due west. Increase to 30 knots.”

“Sir, ahead 30 and coming round to 270 west, aye.”

They could feel the powerful surge of Kirov’s engines as the ship moved from its cruising speed of 20 knots to near full speed, and began a wide turn to starboard. On this new heading Rodenko reckoned the closest the enemy could come would be 25,000 meters. That was still within range of the ship’s 152mm deck guns, but a long shot for the enemy, unless these were battleships. Rodenko did not have much time to speculate. Karpov was on the bridge five minutes later.

“What is the situation?” He was immediately at Rodenko’s side, and received a full report. He looked at the radar returns, the navigation plot, and then made a quick decision.

“What are we on this heading for, Rodenko? Our objective is south, not west.”

“Sir, I moved to open sea to maintain the range until we could ascertain the nature of the threat.” It was a more military way of saying he was trying to avoid engagement, and luckily, Karpov bought it.

“Very well…” The Captain was staring at the overhead Tin Man display. “Fedorov would come in handy here,” he said. “But to my eye those do not appear to be the pre-dreadnaught battleships of this era. They are most likely armored cruisers.” He walked to the flag bridge and consulted the books he had been studying there. “Yes…These would be carrying an 8 inch main gun. Technically it could fire out to 18,000 meters, but real action ranges for these ships would be closer to 8,000. Decent armor…twenty knots maximum speed.”

“Our present course and speed keeps the range at 25,000 meters in fifteen minutes, sir,” said Rodenko. “After that we should easily shake them off.”

“Well within range of our AK-152s. Very well, activate our forward turret. 152mm battery, please.”

Samsonov was quick to oblige and reported guns ready. As before, the Captain summoned Chekov to assist Nikolin and they began to send wireless Morse. Karpov’s first message was blunt and to the point. He identified himself as the battlecruiser Kirov of the Imperial Russian Navy, and ordered the Japanese ships to stand down and return to port. The Japanese message was equally blunt.

“Sir, they require us to reduce speed and prepare to be boarded for inspection. They say they are hunting a ship responsible for the sinking of the steamer Tatsu Maru.”

“Is that so? Well tell them we are the ship responsible, and as to their request for us to reduce speed, it has been denied. They will break off and return to port.”

Rodenko folded his arms, inwardly shaking his head. Things were developing just as he expected. The Captain knew exactly how to aggravate his foe and force an action here. He wanted to engage these ships, and this was no more than a thin veneer of civility on the violence that would soon ensue.

“Sir,” he suggested. “They cannot catch us on this heading. We can easily outrun them.”

“We are not here to run from these ships, Mister Rodenko. Helm, come left fifteen degrees to 255 and steady at 30 knots.”

“Sir, coming left to 255 and steady on.”

“That is better. We turn to face our foe, Captain Lieutenant. We do not run from the enemy. We are here to teach them to run from us, if they can. Mister Chekov, tell them they have five minutes to reverse course or they will be presumed hostile and fired upon.”

They waited briefly, but the only response they received was a speed change from 18 to 20 knots and a slight course adjustment. Then a final message came and Chekov translated. “You have failed to comply and we will engage you.”

Karpov smiled. “Threatening us, are they? I suppose the range is a bit far for them to see this ship is twice the length and displacement of the largest battleship in their navy! No matter. What is the current range?”

“Sir, radar has the column at 32,900 meters and as we are now on converging courses, the range is closing.”

“Samsonov. Let’s send them a more direct message. Target the lead ship. Their commanding officers were fond of leading the charge in this era from what I have read. We’ll make an example of his ship first.”

“Sir, I have radar lock on the lead ship in the formation.” Karpov walked slowly to the Captain’s chair and did something he seldom ever did at the edge of combat. He sat down. Nine times out of ten he would be at the view screen with his field glasses. But now he sat, almost casually on the rotating chair, elbow on the arm rest and hand stroking his chin.

“You may open fire with the forward battery. Three salvos, please.”

Rodenko watched the computer controlled turret rotate smartly with a low whir, the guns elevated at just the precise angle required to put rounds on the target, which was now painted with powerful targeting radars. The sharp report and swift recoil of the twin battery snapped the silence on the bridge with three sharp cracks that sent six rounds at the enemy.

Minutes later two would strike the forward deck of Izumo, penetrating the relatively thin 2.6 inch armor there and exploding below decks. A single 12 pounder gun on the bow was put out of action, its crew killed almost instantly. Two more riddled its big 8 inch turret, smashing the side armor there, and the last two struck the conning tower, causing considerable smoke and explosive shock, but failing to penetrate the thick 14 inch armor protection. It was enough to jar the ship, as if Karpov had given the Japanese a rude shove at the outset of an argument. Smoke from the fire caused by the two rounds exploding below decks soon billowed up, adding to the dark stain in the sky from the coal fired ships that were laboring to pursue them.

It had begun.