Pacific Storm

Chapter 4

Yamashita set his teacup firmly on the table, savoring the nutty flavor with some satisfaction, and looked at Nagano with a glint in his eye. “It can be done,” he said with an air of calm assurance. “In light of our successful landing at Port Moresby, it is the logical next step.”

“You are aware that the army opposes any further consideration of operations on the Australian mainland.”

“Of course I am, but that is of no concern. They fret and chafe because they have ninety percent of the infantry in China now, and more to deal with than they expected. The fools. What has the invasion of China brought us but an unending war of occupation with 700 million Chinese, neh? Where are the resources this brings home to Japan?”

“Agreed, but the army will use this very same argument against the Australian operation. They claim that it will take at least ten divisions to control Australia, and they will not provide even a fraction of that willingly.”

“You and I both know that is ridiculous,” said Yamashita dismissively. “I took all of Malaya with just a single division—30,000 men against four times our number, and yet we prevailed. At this moment I have enough resources in 25th Army to carry out this operation alone. First off, the notion that we must occupy and control the whole of the Australian mainland is fallacious. It will do us no more good than the war in China. But what the army must realize is this—the resources and oil we have secured thus far in our drive south must be defended if they are ever to be of benefit. And to defend them we must build a strong outer line. The southwest perimeter now stretches from Singapore, through Batavia, Surabaya and Kupang, and its proper anchor is Darwin, not Kupang on Timor. By occupying Darwin our line cuts across the Timor Sea and is securely anchored on the Australian mainland. And Darwin is all we will need for the moment. From there our bombers can range on most other settlements of any consequence in the north.”

Osami Nagano sighed, his hand running over the back of his bald head as he considered. Chief of the Imperial Japanese Naval General Staff, his support would be essential if Yamashita was to have even the slightest chance of gaining approval for his operation. “I understand your logic, but the Army will say that bases on Timor will be sufficient.”

“Perhaps,” said Yamashita, “but leaving Darwin in enemy hands will tempt them to strongly occupy that place as their sole bastion in the north capable or projecting power into the Timor and Arafura Seas, and the Dutch East Indies…or even a return to New Guinea. B-17 bombers are already striking our establishment at Port Moresby—and this from airfields at Cairns and Cooktown on the other side of the Coral Sea! If the Americans put those planes at Darwin, and can protect them with fighters, then they will be able to bomb all the key oil and resource centers in Indonesia—perhaps even Jakarta, and these were our primary reason for driving south in the first place. A child can see this, and the Army must realize it as well.”

Nagano nodded, his eyes searching, considering. “How many divisions,” he then asked bluntly. “What will it take?”

“A single division, and I have that in hand now. With that I can secure Darwin, and then raid or occupy most of the minor ports on the northern coast as well. Of course, if the Army can spare me one further division, I can do much more.”

“And if the enemy sends reinforcements from the south?”

“Let them try. The roads are abysmal, bare tracks that are all but impassable for half the year. The whole area is wilderness. The distance from Darwin to Stanley is greater than that from London to Moscow! Their supply lines will have to stretch over some of the most barren and inhospitable terrain in the hemisphere. This is why we do not need to operate further south. If I push as far south as Katherine that will be more than enough to provide a trip wire defense should the enemy plan such a reinforcement. If they do so, our planes at Darwin will pound them to dust as they march north, and they will have no bases close enough to provide adequate air cover for their operations. For our part, if the navy cooperates, we can easily keep Darwin supplied by controlling the Timor Sea. With strong bases at both Darwin and Kupang, that will not be difficult.”

“Where will you land?”

“A direct assault is feasible, but I will also land troops to the Southwest near the Daly River or perhaps further east. We can launch this operation from Kupang and Amboina now. Give me that second division, and we can strike from Rabaul and Port Moresby and I will take Cooktown, Cairns, possibly even Townsville and secure the Coral Sea.”

“You are aware that Admiral Yamamoto is not in favor of this plan?”

“Yes, but perhaps he could be persuaded.”

“At the moment he has his eyes fixed on another operation aimed at drawing the American navy into a decisive engagement. He has wanted this from the very beginning, and when the operation against Pearl Harbor was canceled, and the Americans declined to rush boldly in with their War Plan Orange to relieve the Philippines, he was left unsatisfied.”

“What is the target this time?” Yamashita was increasingly frustrated, sighing heavily.

“Midway Island.”

“Midway? It is thousands of miles away, a bare speck in the sea! What could he possibly want with that island? It will not prove suitable for a base of operations against Hawaii, and will be impossible to keep well supplied. This is nonsense.”

“Perhaps, but that is what the Army is saying behind your back, Yamashita, that this plan to invade Australia is gibberish.”

“They say this because they believe we will need ten divisions, but I have shown clearly how a limited invasion can be successful, and very beneficial to our war aims. Combined with an operation to further isolate Australia, it becomes even more enticing, and strategically sound as well. We should be striking south from the Solomons to capture New Caledonia and even Fiji. Then where will the enemy base his operations? Samoa? You must convince Yamamoto that this operation can succeed.”

“But he will not have his decisive engagement—not here at Darwin.”

“That remains to be seen, Nagano. If not at Darwin, then he will have it in the Solomons. The Americans are not stupid. They will quickly surmise the danger that any thrust at New Caledonia will portend. They fought to save Port Moresby for a reason. If we take Darwin and threaten New Caledonia, and they will fight again. Mark my words. With Australia isolated they will have to come at us from somewhere else, the mid-Pacific, and this will take long-ranged sea power protected by aircraft carriers. Yamamoto will have his opportunity to smash the last of their carriers right here. At the moment you outnumber the Americans by more than two to one in that category, is that not so?”

“At the moment.”

“Then use this advantage to press for our most promising strategic options now! The isolation of Australia, and control of all the sea lanes from Guadalcanal and New Caledonia to Timor is a decisive advantage. Neutralize the waters north and east of Australia! Striking at Midway is stupid. It makes no sense!”

“I cannot say I disagree. But Admiral Yamamoto…”

“Yes, Yamamoto. Always ready for a decisive engagement yet ever the reluctant admiral when it comes to the real necessities of strategic warfare.”

At this Nagano raised an eyebrow, and Yamashita was quick to sweeten his remark. “I mean no disrespect, of course.”

“Of course… but you must be careful, Yamashita. Tojo was not pleased to see you in the limelight after your Malaya Campaign. He wanted to get rid of you and send you to useless garrison duty in Manchukuo. It was Tojo who issued those travel orders to prevent your rightful welcome as a hero in Japan, and it was he who prevented your audience with his Imperial Highness.”

“I am well aware of Tojo’s opposition, both to these plans and to me personally.”

“Then you must realize that you can ill afford another enemy—particularly Yamamoto!”

“I understand…” Yamashita shook his head, lamenting his long rivalry with Tojo ever since the fateful Ni-niroku jiken, or 2-2-6 Incident as it was now called—the ‘deplorable incident in the capital’ that had seen an attempted coup. His appeal for leniency for the officers involved was not looked on kindly by the Emperor and, ever since, Yamashita had been skating on thin ice. Yet his military prowess was undeniable, and compensated for his failure in the more personal power squabbles involving army personnel.

“That said,” Yamashita moved on, “if Yamamoto could be persuaded to use your current naval advantage with this operation, I will deliver Darwin as the icing on the cake. I have the troops I need now. Just give me two carriers to cover the invasion, and enough transport, and I can take Darwin within a week. Please convey this to him, Admiral. Only you have the standing and authority to make this argument in a most convincing manner. I implore you. If we can convince Yamamoto, and the Navy can stand fast, then the Army will give us enough troops for the limited operations we propose. With two divisions, three at most, we could isolate Australia and perhaps even knock them out of the war.”

“A worthy goal,” Nagano agreed.

“Yes! The Americans will see this as surely as I do now, and they will fight. They tried to stop our Port Moresby operation and lost a carrier for it. The Lexington is at the bottom of the Coral Sea. Thankfully Shigeyoshi Inoue had the backbone to press the invasion home in spite of the American counter operation. Now we have Port Moresby, neh? Now the Americans are denied a base from which their B-17 bombers would be pounding Rabaul. Soon we can also have Darwin and deny them that base as well. The Americans will see the noose tightening around Australia, and believe me, then Yamamoto will have his decisive engagement, I can assure you.”

Nagano breathed deeply, nodding his assent. “I will present your proposal at the next meeting of the Imperial General Staff. Captain Tomioka in the planning division has also argued that we could take Australia with a token force. You are not alone in your views.”

“Tomioka has a good head on his shoulders. Remember the Army-Navy agreement earlier this year which determined the strategic importance of Papua New Guinea and the Solomons in the first place. We must deprive the Allies of key positions they will most certainly use in their counter operations, and Australia is the foundation of their whole defense in this region. This plan is merely an extension of those same ideas. But do not say we will ‘take’ Australia. Argue that we will secure vital bases to defend Indonesia while isolating Australia at the same time and forcing the Americans to a decisive engagement here, where we have adequate resources and land based air power to support our carrier operations—not at Midway, a thousand miles east on an axis that leads us nowhere. This whole operation can be done with two divisions. Throw in one more, or even a few brigades for the Fiji-Samoa operation and we will have a decisive advantage in the Pacific for years.”

“Very well, General. It is at least encouraging that someone in the Army is willing to side with the Navy and see the big picture. If the Tiger of Malaya says these things can be done, perhaps others will be convinced as well.”

“Do not flatter me, Admiral. Just support me.”

Nagano smiled. “Between the two of us,” he said “we can hardly muster a single handful of hair, but our heads may prove to be of some use to the empire after all.”

Chapter 5

Admiral of the Fleet Isoroku Yamamoto sat in his private cabin aboard the Battleship Yamato, and considered. His eyes played over the map, thoughts moving from one island to another in the long chain of the Solomons, imagining the position he would have three months from now, six months, a year. And always as he considered, it was the establishment of vital air bases that was uppermost in his mind. He had been a strong proponent of the Naval Air Arm for decades, opposing the construction of large unwieldy battleships like the one now serving as his headquarters—‘Hotel Yamato,’ the men called it, for the ship had done little in the way of real fighting thus far in the war.

Now, as his eye strayed east to the tiny islet of Midway, he still pictured the great ship leading a long line of battleships, the heart of the fleet, but to what end? The carriers were tasked with finding and destroying the enemy fleet, not his battleships. If he took the big ships east what would they do beyond burning up enough fuel to run the entire navy for the next three months? Did he really expect the Americans to sortie with their battle fleet at Pearl Harbor? Those old battleships were already obsolete, he knew. They could not find his fleet, nor could they catch it if they did.

No… It was the carriers that would decide this war. He had been wrong about Pearl Harbor and was inwardly glad the operation had been deemed unnecessary. Was he wrong about Midway now? The more he considered, the more Nagano’s arguments began to make sense to him. It was the carriers, the carriers, the carriers. Every operation conceived by the navy thus far had begun with the assignment of the vital carrier division to be responsible as both a primary strike force and defensive covering force. And where were the American carriers now? Were they east at Midway? Were they in Pearl Harbor? Intelligence answered both these questions with a certain negative. No. They were operating southeast of the Solomons, from Noumea on New Caledonia and Suva Bay in the Fiji Islands. He wanted a decisive engagement, but where would he find it, in the east against Midway and Pearl Harbor, or right here in the Solomons?

He had three carrier divisions at his disposal now—right here, right now. There were at least three enemy carriers operating in these waters—right here, right now. To launch his Midway operation he would have to take all these ships home to Kure and other bases in Japan to refuel and rearm for the long sea voyage east. Yet he could launch this operation “FS,” as it was now being called, from his present position, right now. And Yamashita’s plan for Darwin was also correct, he knew, though he could not condone any further attempt to occupy the vast Australian mainland. But Darwin could be taken easily enough, particularly with Yamashita in command.

He sighed…What was he waiting for? They called him the ‘Reluctant Admiral’ behind his back, though no man would ever dare such disrespect to his face. In some ways it was true, he knew. He had vigorously opposed the useless invasion and occupation of Manchuria, and strongly argued against war with the United States. These were positions that made him a very unpopular man, so unpopular at one time that he had been informed of plots against his life. So the Navy sent him off to sea, away from the mainland, and believed in his promise that if war ever did come, he would raise hell…for six months…for a year he had told them, and then he could guarantee nothing more.

Of course they did not wish to hear that last bit. But thus far it was the American Navy that had been most reluctant to engage him. When Pearl Harbor was wisely canceled, he thought the attack on the Philippines would immediately trigger their War Plan Orange, and was surprised to see that the Americans did not rush boldly in as so many believed they would. Nimitz and Halsey had been crafty, and very elusive. Instead they began to build a center of gravity in the southeast, on New Caledonia, Fiji and Samoa. They had begun moving vast amounts of equipment and supplies to Australia, and avoided major engagements until the recent ‘Operation MO’ had forced them to fight for Port Moresby. And now he realized that this was the only way to bring them to battle—by threatening a key base of operations that they dearly wanted to retain.

What did they prize now? Where were they building strength? Midway was said to have no more than a single battalion and a few old fighters and seaplanes in garrison. Yet at Noumea the enemy strength was building day by day. What would he use that force for? The answer was obvious: they would begin a drive northwest into the Solomons aimed at eventually reaching Rabaul. From there they would be able to outflank our new bastion at Port Moresby, and our positions at Buna and Lae in Papua New Guinea as well. From Rabaul they would have a strong air base to strike this very place where he sat in Hotel Yamato, pouring over his maps—the island of Truk, Japan’s chief naval base in the Pacific.

The longer he considered it, the more he saw the truth in Nagano’s words, and the wisdom in Yamashita’s plan as well. Yamamoto was a gambler in his heart, and had once remarked that ‘people who don’t gamble aren’t worth talking to.’ He had embraced his Midway operation for its daring element of surprise, and the risk inherent in the operation was a cherry he savored at the top. Yet even as initial preparations were being made for the operation he knew he would get if he wanted it, joint staff planning for ‘Operation FS’ continued as well. Imperial General Headquarters Army and Navy Section orders, were already being formulated, and he had the initial drafts in hand…. ‘Carry out the invasions of New Caledonia and the Fiji and Samoa Islands; destroy the main enemy bases in those areas, establish operational bases at Suva and Noumea; gain control of the seas east of Australia, and strive to cut communications between Australia and the United States….’

Now he saw that the safer play, the wiser play, was to push his chips out onto the Solomons, and beyond, as these orders envisioned. His Midway operation would be nothing more than a grand distraction and a waste of valuable fuel, and above all, a waste of precious time. If he moved east he might find and destroy anything the Americans sortied against him from Pearl Harbor. If he moved south—he would find and destroy their carriers. It was now so obvious to him that he was amazed at his own bull-headedness in not seeing it sooner. And so he decided, with a heavy sigh, and let go of his dreams of landing on Midway and threatening Hawaii.

The enemy is right here, and I will fight him here, he thought, as he pushed the map aside, reaching for the bell to summon his personal attendant. It was time to write his letters, a ritual that he kept to every night, and tonight he would spend time in his mind and heart with his friends and family back home, and with his dear Chiyiko, the Geisha that waited for him in Tokyo.

I will give this to my Chief of Operations tomorrow, he thought. Kuroshima will know what to do. Let him seal himself in his quarters for a week in a fog of incense and cigarette smoke and he will deliver a plan worthy of our efforts. In the meantime I will tell Yamashita to get his men ready for Darwin, and the stubborn mules in the Army can go to hell. I am Isoroku Yamamoto, Admiral of the Combined Fleet! What I put my will to, and name to, will be done. But first…the plan….the operation. It must be honed and sharpened like the finest sword, and balanced and timed like the workings of a clock. Yes, the operation.

Weeks later Yamashita had what he wanted. Nagano informed him that the Navy’s 5th carrier Division, would be dispatched by Combined Fleet to support a limited operation to seize Darwin and deny the Allies that vital base as part of an overall plan aimed at isolating Australia. Reconnaissance as far south as Katherine would be permitted, but no further. The Army had been pacified with assurances that no attempt would be made to seriously occupy the continent, but they had been finally convinced that the occupation of Darwin would both anchor the defensive line that stretched all the way back to Singapore, and also provide a base from which Japanese bombers could pound and neutralize most other enemy holdings in the Northern Territories of Australia. Yamashita’s boast, that he could take Darwin with troops he already had in hand, was called. There would be no further troop assignments for the Darwin operation unless they came from the 18th Army on New Guinea. But they reluctantly released the Nagoya 3rd Division, Ko-heidan, the Lucky Division as it was called. One of the oldest veteran formations in the Imperial Army, it had a long record of achievement as far back as the first Sino and Russo-Japanese wars, and it had served with distinction in Manchuria.

A second division was designated as a strategic reserve for the operation, the Osaka 4th Division, presently in the home islands and again headquartered at Osaka Castle. These would be the only bones they would throw the navy for some time, still obsessed with their campaign in China, but they would have to do. The Lucky Division would be moved forthwith to Rabaul, where sufficient transport would be gathered to enable operations aimed at Noumea and Suva Bay. The Osaka division, sometimes called the Yodo Division after the river that wound its way through its home province, would eventually be moved south to stand as a theater reserve for all Navy operations associated with ‘Operation FS.’ In the meantime, positions recently secured on Guadalcanal and at Tulagi would be strengthened as forward bases for this campaign.

With the Midway operation canceled, planning went forward from May through August of 1942, when it was deemed that all was now in readiness, awaiting only the final approval and order of Yamamoto himself. The date was finally set: August 24, 1942, and the Darwin operation would begin hostilities led by the 5th Division carriers Zuikaku, Shokaku, and the light carrier Zuiho, as it would most likely prove a compelling distraction to draw enemy attention to the west.

In the meantime, the Combined Fleet would embark from Rabaul and Truk with two more assault elements. The 2nd Carrier Division with Hiru and Soryu would cover the main amphibious thrust southeast from Rabaul, while Yamamoto would lead the heart of the fleet with the 1st Carrier Division under Nagumo comprised of the venerable Akagi and Kaga, the largest carriers in the fleet, and a strong surface action group centered around his own flagship, the largest battleship in the world, Yamato. And there was more… Yamato’s sister ship, dubbed “battleship number two” for the long years of its top secret construction program, was now also ready for operations. The ship was over three months ahead of schedule, commissioned into the fleet as Musashi in April of 1942. She would take her rightful place in the First Battleship Division alongside Yamato and the older battleships Mutsu and Nagato by June. Her gunnery trials had been completed at Kure by August 5th, the original date scheduled for her commissioning, and so Yamamoto ordered the ship to sail for Truk, where it arrived August 10th.

Yamamoto’s thought was to keep the ship at Truk as a reserve, and use it for headquarters operations there, freeing Yamato for operations at sea. As a last component of her training, he had Musashi work out in aircraft drills with the carrier Zuikaku before it was released for the Darwin operation, and when he met with the Commander of the 5th Carrier Division, Admiral Hara, he received a request for one more battleship to be assigned to the western prong of the operation at Darwin.

“Why not send Musashi,” Hara smiled. The big man was nicknamed ‘King Kong,’ not only for his size but also for his disposition after too much Saki. He was proud of his victory over the Americans in the Coral Sea, the operation that had given the empire Port Moresby, and ready for yet more glory. The thought that he might wrangle away a new battleship for the Darwin operation was enticing. “Musashi performed very well in our recent drills, and so she is already well coordinated with my carrier staff. She would be a wonderful addition, and her guns would pound any garrison in Darwin into submission very quickly. Yamashita will simply waltz ashore and set his men to cleanup operations.”

“You’ve already got three of my carriers, Hara, and now you are after my battleships! I assigned you this mission based on your skill as a carrier commander. You did a fine job with Vice Admiral Takagi in the Port Moresby Operation. I must tell you that Takagi wanted this operation as well, but Imperial General Staff has sent him to Taiwan to take command of the Mako Guard District. So you’ll have complete control of the carriers this time out. As for Musashi, the ship is just commissioned,” said Yamamoto.

“A perfect first trial for her,” Hara pressed. “Leaving her in Truk while everyone else is out on operations will be bad for morale. We built these ships to use them, neh? You’ll still have plenty more battleships at Truk. Give me Musashi, and I’ll return her in short order with her first battle star.”

Yamamoto smiled. “I’m afraid that is impossible. Musashi will be assigned to fill out 1st Battleship Division. And remain with Yamato at Truk. Combined Fleet Headquarters will be moved to that ship. In its place you will be assigned Mutsu and Nagato, both to be sent to Amboina where elements of the ground operation will embark for Darwin.”

“Very well,” Hara relented. “They will do. We do not expect any serious naval threat in the Darwin Operation. With our air base at Port Moresby operational now, the Americans cannot enter the Coral Sea without our knowing about it, let alone try to navigate the Torres Strait. This will be a very simple operation.”

“I am glad to hear your confidence,” said Yamamoto, “because after you secure Darwin you will bring your carriers into the Coral Sea and stand by for further orders. Your destroyers may refuel at Moresby if necessary. Pending the success of Operation FS, you may either be ordered to strike the allied airfields at Cairns and Townsville, or to move southeast to support our operations against Noumea. Bring Nagato and Mutsu with you at this stage, as they will return to Truk when the overall operation concludes. And of course, you also have the battleship Kirishima in your carrier screen force. Bring all those ships as well.”

“Captain Iwabuchi is on Kirishima, and I would be most happy to trade him and his ship for Musashi.” Hara tried one more time, this time with a smile. Both men knew the irascible and unpredictable nature of Captain Iwabuchi, and Hara would just as soon be rid of the man, though he needed his battleship for his screening force as it was one of the very few that could run at 30 knots and keep pace with his carriers.

“Nice try, Hara, but I’m afraid you will have the pleasure of commanding Iwabuchi and his ship for the moment. Musashi stays at Truk.”

“Very well,” Hara concluded. “We will smash Darwin and then come east to the Coral Sea and be ready for any operation you devise, I can assure you.”

“Good.” Yamamoto looked at the clock. “Our submarine screens should already be deploying, and air search operations will commence in two hours. Now it is time to see if we can wake up these sleeping dogs and get them into a fight.”

Even as the Admiral finished, he realized the true meaning of the idiom, ‘best to let sleeping dogs lie.’ It was an obvious warning, yet with nine carriers seven battleships and a host of cruisers and destroyers at his command the threat seemed remote. If this was to be the great battle he had sought from the beginning of the war, then Japan must surely win it decisively.

It will buy us at least another year, he thought, his mind turning to a distant future that he could dimly see. How many carriers do the Americans have in their shipyards at this very moment? They lost one in the Atlantic before the war even started and have been holding the others in a tight fist ever since. I have to find them this time, and finish them…Before they finish me.

Chapter 6

Lt. Commander Kennosuke Torisu peered through his periscope, a surge of both fear and excitement animating him now. The Captain of I-63, he had been cruising south, heading for the Australian coast to scout out the area prior to the planned operation. The Timor Sea and coastline of Australia had been a backwater sideshow in the Pacific war thus far. 1942 had seen Japan occupy Papua New Guinea and conclude successful operations aimed at Port Morseby and the Solomons. The Allies still clung to a makeshift base at Milne Bay, but had otherwise fallen back on New Caledonia and the Fiji-Samoa Island groups where they were slowly building up supplies and resources for a counteroffensive that was certain to come in the near future.

The American Admirals and war planners had been uncommonly cagey and elusive. The battleship squadrons Japan had planned on targeting with their abortive attack on Pearl Harbor had been proven as useless as more contemporary strategists had argued. A few had been moved to Suva Bay, the Maryland, California and New Mexico had been identified there to provide a little muscle as a deterrent to any major Japanese attempt to bombard the nearby island facilities from the sea. But the remainder of the older battleships once thought to be the backbone of the fleet remained berthed at Pearl, too slow to operate with the fast carrier groups that were the real striking power in the Pacific now.

As 1942 grew into late summer, both sides had consolidated their positions, with Guadalcanal being the front line in the Solomons and the place most likely to see conflict in the immediate future. The Japanese had troops at Tassafaronga, Lunga and Tulagi, though these places were not yet well established or fortified. The newly won Port Moresby was being prepared for use as a forward bomber base, but was itself visited daily by small squadrons of American B-17 bombers out of Cairns and Townsville.

A simmering stalemate had developed in the Pacific, with the Americans apparently not yet ready to take the offensive, and the Japanese fretting over how they could best provoke the United States into committing its forces to a decisive engagement. The Army and Navy had been squabbling with one another for long wasted months, thought Torisu as he scanned the horizon. Now they have finally decided to act.

I-63 was at the forward edge of that action, a major operation aimed at Port Darwin, the westernmost thrust of a two prong attack that was now finally underway. Two hundred miles northwest of Torisu’s position Admiral Hara steamed with the navy’s newest carriers, Zuikaku and Shokaku, and the light carrier Zuiho, their crews already arming the planes to make the initial air strikes on Darwin.

Two hundred miles further, the transports at Kupang were already loading troops of the 21st Infantry Regiment, 5th Infantry Division,as well as the Kure 26th SNLF battalion and one mountain artillery battery, all forces that had been combed from General Yamashita’s 25th Army in Indonesia. The remainder of the forces slated to make the Darwin attack would come in the second wave, embarking from Amboina and Kendari. The 2nd Recon Battalion was released to support the operation by Lt. Gen. Ilatazo Adachi commanding 18th Army in New Guinea. Other forces consisting of engineers and IJN Base force personnel would move in once the port had been secured. A reserve force of the 1st Amphibious Brigade was to be used to make secondary landings at Wyndham and perhaps even Broome. These troops had been scheduled for deployment in the Marshall Island group, but were diverted by Imperial General Headquarters for this mission.

Torisu’s mission in I-63 was simple and straightforward. Scout the way forward and report any enemy naval activity. The first three days of his mission had been uneventful, but now he was rubbing his eyes and squinting through his periscope at a large and dangerous looking warship cruising in the distance, too far away for him to do anything about it, yet far too close to the area of planned operations. It could pose a dangerous threat to the landings, and he knew he had to report it at once.

He looked away to consult his navigation charts and determine the ship’s position, and when he looked again he was surprised to see his scope empty, with no sign of the contact. Yet a moment later he saw what looked to be a shimmering mirage on the horizon, and seconds later the ship was there again, a dark silhouette above the clear blue sea, set in sharp relief against the azure sky.

There must be low lying clouds obscuring his view, he thought when the ship seemed to fade and vanish again. He turned to his executive officer and ordered a radio buoy sent up at once. “Signal one ship, cruiser, perhaps bigger, and give our present coordinates. Heading is presently north as far as I can make it. There is something wrong with the periscope today—either that or my eyes,” he finished.

“It’s the headache you have from all that toasting to victory in the ward room yesterday. Time to settle into operations, Captain, and make good on our hopes. Can we attack this ship?”

“Not at this range,” said Toriso. “Our Type 95 torpedoes do not have the range of their older brothers.” He was referring to the lethal Type 93 torpedo carried by most Japanese surface ships, capable of ranging out to 40,000 meters. It was so effective at long range that it would be dubbed the “Long Lance” by historian by Samuel Eliot Morison after the war, though it was largely unknown to the Americans in 1942—until their ships exploded far outside any perceived range of torpedo attack.

“I’m afraid all we can shoot with is our radio this time,” said Toriso. “Send the signal. This is what we are here for—to spot enemy shipping. And from the looks of this ship I only hope it does not spot us! Quite the ghost dancer! It moves in and out of shadows on the sea, but it looks powerful, and very fast.”

The message was tapped out at once, quickly received by Hama’s carriers, but it was not necessary. The sharp eyes of a Japanese squadron leader had already seen the ship, and he was eager to attack.

Lt. Tamotsu Ema was glad to be airborne again, riding his favorite warhorse into action at long last. He was leader for the EII-2 squadron of the carrier Zuikaku, flying his lucky plane, number 235. His formation was well up, at 15,000 feet, cruising at 240kph with twenty-seven planes spread over three full squadrons of nine planes each. Lt. Akira Sakamoto led 1st Squadron, on his left, and Lt. Hayashi had 3rd Squadron on his right. He was privileged to assume the role of buntaicho and lead in second squadron, in the center position, the place of honor that Lt. Sakamoto had been kind enough to grant him as a reward for scoring the first hit on the Americans three months ago.

It seemed such a long time since that first wild clash with the Americans in the Coral Sea and he was eager to get back in the fight. Admiral Hara’s 5th Carrier Division, comprised of Shokaku (White Crane) and her sister ship Zuikaku (Lucky Crane), and Zuiho (Lucky Phoenix) now occupied a prominent place in the Combined Fleet. They were first to find and blood the enemy carrier groups in the Coral Sea, sinking the USS Lexington two months ago during Operation MO and insuring the successful landing that had secured Port Moresby. Ema’s Aichi D3A1 dive bombers had scored three hits on the big flattop, smashing her flight deck and igniting a raging fire when the aviation fuel ignited below decks. Lt. Commander Matsua’s torpedo Bombers off Zuiho had finished her off.

Now the sky was clear and bright ahead, though behind them came the burgeoning white clouds of a thunder storm, grey-white fists rising on the far horizon, where the carriers were laying in wait and running before the rising wind. Today they would be Jinrai Butai—the Thunder Gods at the edge of a storm, and they would bring their anger to their enemies and herald the imminent invasion that would soon follow on their heels.

Ema looked down, noting something off his right wingtip, a strange shadow on the sea below that soon glinted in the bright sunlight—a ship! He thumbed his short range radio, calling the hikotaicho formation leader and reporting the contact.

“Lieutenant Sakamoto. Ship below at three o’clock. It looks like a big cruiser!” Even as he reported he wondered if the Australians had somehow learned of the operation and sortied a screen of fast cruisers to look for signs of the attack. If so, they would soon find more than they bargained for.

“Shall we attack?” he asked his hikotaicho again.

“Hold formation,” Sakamoto returned. “I will send Hayashi on the right. His squadron is in better position to make the attack. Hayashi, are you reading this? Get down there and give them hell!”

A moment later Ema looked and saw Hayashi peel off, the planes of his 3rd Squadron following in three neat shotai, the three plane units that would make up each squadron of nine. The drone of their engines filled the air and got his blood up for action, and now he wished he had been posted on the right, and that it was his planes diving on the enemy from above. Naval combat was what he and his men had trained for, and lived for. Yes, they would strike Darwin and soften the enemy up for the invasion, but sinking a cruiser would be so much more satisfying.

He smiled, hearing the cheers of the nine pilots as they dove to the attack, and sighed. Who knows what is good or bad, he thought. He would press on at altitude with Sakamoto’s group and pound Darwin to dust instead. After all, none of the planes had armor piercing bombs at the moment. They really should not be making this attack on a ship with incendiaries, but the cruiser could not pass unchallenged.

Above them he saw the A6M2 Rei-sen fighters streak ahead on top cover, the vanguard of the formation, clearing the way for his dive bombers. Far to his left he could see the planes off Shokaku, another formation of twenty-seven Aichi D3A1 dive bombers with many fighters in escort. The torpedo bombers were not deemed necessary on this ground attack mission, and were still waiting aboard the carriers. He looked at his comrades diving, expecting to see the smoky white puffs of flak at any moment as they closed for the kill, but what he saw instead would haunt him for the rest of his days.

The sound seemed to be coming from all around them now, faint and far away at times, and then ominously close, wavering in the still air above the Timor Sea. They had been steaming north for thirty minutes in an utterly calm sea until a watchman on the bridge reported seeing something on his starboard quarter. Rodenko thought he saw something as well on radar at that same moment, and then his screen seemed to crackle with interference.

Volsky was in his chair, Fedorov at the navigation station where he kept his history reference materials, and there came a sudden vibration, increasing as the sound around them wavered in and out.

“Something is happening,” said Fedorov, eyes wide as he looked to the condition of the sea, but all seemed calm.

Admiral Volsky had a grim expression on his face, brows lowered, eyes intense as he listened. “What is that sound?”

It was a long distended drone, quavering in and out, and multiplied ten and twenty times in a welter of dissonance. Behind it all was a low rumble, deeper, more pronounced, and with a more steady rhythm.

“Mister Fedorov, call engineering and see if we have any problems there.”

“Aye, sir.” Fedorov made the call. “Dobrynin says he heard something earlier, sir, and he still has some odd flux readings, but the reactor is stable.” Even as he finished he was distracted when he saw something in the sky above them, strange shadows moving in the vibrating air. Then he caught the wink of sunlight on metal in the sky and turned quickly to Rodenko. “Any signal data?”

“I have nothing on radar.” Rodenko spoke up over the growling noise, a confused look on his face. His systems were now unreadable.

“Look!” Fedorov pointed.

All eyes followed his arm, but Volsky could see only shadows, high overhead, as if a flight of storm clouds had joined in formation and were moving impossibly fast on a windless day. The droning sound settled on a lower, more sustained note that was now clear and recognizable. It was the sound of aircraft engines—propeller planes, and it had a powerful and dangerous overtone.

“God almighty,” said Fedorov. “We’ve shifted again, and right into the middle of a strike wave. Look!”

Now when he pointed the others could see the shadows slowly dissipate and become silver crosses in the sky above and well off their starboard side. They suddenly sharpened, as though a camera lens had focused, and now they were clearly silver-white planes with bright red meatballs painted on each wing, and prominent unretracted landing gear.

“Battle Stations! Alert one! Those are Japanese dive bombers—right on top of us!”

Karpov heard the second alarm, and was now rushing to the bridge, making his way through the long corridors and up ladders to the command level deck and the armored citadel.

“What is happening, Captain?” the men asked as he passed. “More fighting?”

“Spakoyna. Nye Boytyes” he said, “Stay calm. Don’t be frightened. Just man your post as always. Admiral Volsky is on the bridge, and we will handle matters.”

He pressed on, but caught a matoc seaman mutter that at least the Admiral was not locked up in sick bay this time, and his eyes darkened. They have every right to feel as they do, he realized. One day I may win back their respect again, but he gave it no more thought.

As he worked his way to the upper deck heard the loud drone that had spooked the crew and set them on edge. What was it? By the time he reached the bridge he could hear the low thrum of distant engines and then a long wailing scream of something coming at the ship from above. He burst through the hatch, sealing it behind him quickly, and seeing Fedorov and Volsky gaping out through the forward view panes. What was happening?

The sudden geyser of seawater exploding up off the port side told him all he needed to know. The shock of the abrupt appearance of planes right on top of the ship had stunned the bridge crew, but Admiral Volsky was suddenly animated, turning quickly to Samsonov.

“Engage all airborne targets,” he said gruffly. “Weapons free!”

Samsonov stared at his board, eyes wide as he looked for data points that were simply not there. The Admiral’s orders had not been clear and specific. No weapon system was named, and he hesitated. “Sir—I have no radar locks!”

“Nothing?”

“No data, sir.”

“What are we fighting, Fedorov,” said Karpov coolly, his eyes set and a fierce expression on his face.

“Aichi D3A1,” Fedorov started, then realized this would make no sense to Karpov. “Dive bombers! High angle attack. They will come in from a cruising altitude between ten and fifteen thousand meters. Right on top of us!”

The drone of the diving planes grew louder, and a second bomb splash fell closer, an angry geyser of seawater not fifty meters off the port side of the ship.

Karpov reacted immediately. Striding quickly to the CIC, his eyes alight. The AK-760s will not elevate high enough, he knew at once. They had been designed to defeat sea skimming missiles coming at the ship on a low attack trajectory. He needed to use the an older system.

“Helm, ahead full battle speed!” Karpov shouted. “Samsonov, Kashtan system! High azimuth arc. Target zone zenith plus and minus ten degrees and fire all systems. Full missile barrage! Use infrared!”

“Aye, sir!” Samsonov shouted, and his hands moved like lightning over his system board, toggling switches until they heard the high swish of missiles firing. Thus far the older CADS-N-2 Kashtans had not come into play in their many combat scenarios. Their ancestor ships in the original Kirov class had up to six of these weapon systems installed, the earlier CADS-N-1 system. When the AK-760 Gatling guns replaced their older counterparts, it was decided to leave at least two of the Kashtan units in the order of battle for Kirov, adding just a little more defensive coverage for arcs of fire not well served by the AK-760.

The Kashtans sat like two squat heavy armed robots on each side of the ship. The head was a rapidly rotating radar antenna working in tandem with a larger dish on the unit’s chest. The two arms were the business end of the module. Each had a set of four short range missiles above what looked like a long black steel pipe housed in a sleek metal cage. The pipe was actually the outer casing of a six barreled 30mm Gatling gun, and the whole unit was a self-integrated system, independent of the ship’s primary radar systems that seemed to be completely fogged over. Two other guidance and ranging systems were also built into the unit, one for infrared and another for high powered optics and TV control.

The unit swiveled rapidly, its big missile laden arms reaching for the sky, and two tiny caps flipped open on the IR and TV sensor tubes. Moments later Samsonov had a real time TV image on an auxiliary screen and he was able to quickly designate targets and fire.

A full barrage released all four missiles on each robot arm, sixteen in all between the two units. It was much more firepower than they actually needed, but in the heat of a dire emergency with bombs raging down on them, Karpov took the most expedient measure possible and fired everything he had as ready ammo.

It saved the ship.

The Aichi D3A1 was the best dive bomber in service during the early years of the war. It had good speed in a dive, with adequate maneuverability in spite of the fixed, non-retractable landing gear, and it could deliver a 250kg bomb mounted on the main fuselage and two smaller 60kg bombs on the wings. As the plane attacked in a steep dive, a trapeze system flung the bomb away from the rotating propeller when released, and the Japanese had developed very good accuracy with the plane. It would end the war as the most successful Axis dive bomber against Allied shipping, killing sixteen warships in the mix of vessels sunk, including an aircraft carrier, the Hermes, three cruisers and twelve destroyers. Even fast agile ships could not easily evade the deadly high angle attack, which was extremely difficult for most gun systems to defeat—but not for missiles capable of vertical launch angles, as the Kashtan was.

The missiles ignited in a wash of white steamy smoke and danced into the sky above, locking on to any target within their arc of fire. The system could track only eight simultaneous targets, but eight was enough. Within seconds the sky overhead erupted with one explosion after another and the missiles found and killed the relatively slow planes with fragmentation warheads that would create a sphere of shrapnel upon detonation out to a five meter range. The air above the ship was soon a wild spray of shrapnel. Two kills…three…five…Then a another bomb fell just ahead of the ship and sent a wild spray of seawater over the bow. Kirov rolled as she ran over the detonation, her sharp prow cutting through the seething water.

Karpov’s mind raced. Killing the planes was not enough, he realized! The bombs may have already been released. “Samsonov! Gatling system on full automatic! Now!”

The snarl of the Gatling guns joined the cacophony of noise as the Kashtans flung thousands of rounds of 30mm shells from their heavy arms, the six barrels rotating rapidly within the long black pipe that housed them with an evil whirring sound, their muzzles spitting out enormous fiery jets of flame. Karpov was filling the sky above the ship with a lethal barrage of metal, and three falling bombs were hit and exploded high above the ship, one too close for comfort.

That accounted for six of the nine bombs on the planes in Lt. Commander Hayashi’s EII-3 Squadron. Two more died before they could be released, their brave pilots waiting too long as they sighted on the enemy ship beneath them. Yet it was bomb number nine that finally found its target and struck an avenging blow—Hayashi’s bomb, striking the ship and broiling up in thick black smoke and fire.

Kirov had finally been hit, but not by the 20mm rounds of a British Beaufighter this time, most passing harmlessly through the target that was not quite there.

This time it was a 250 kilogram bomb.