by James Young
Or alternatively, they’ll be landing at the same time the Australians try to, Jacob thought. Glassford paused, again looking over each captain as if searching for signs of obvious cowardice.
“It is my intent to seek and destroy this force whether this front passes today or not,” Glassford said. “We will be operating under the limit of friendly air cover from Jesselton and Brunei. Fighter direction will be handled by the Australia.”
There was a slight shift as Glassford’s words sank in, the nervousness in the room ramping up a notch.
“If we meet the enemy in daylight, we will seek a range of fifteen thousand yards,” Glassford said, gesturing for his aides to start handing out mimeographed fighting instructions. “Destroyers will screen against their opposite numbers, then be released for torpedo attack against enemy cripples. Cruisers will operate in line ahead and engage their opposite number.”
“What is our plan if there are battleships?” Captain Gordon of the Exeter asked.
Run like Hell, Jacob thought. Your ship just got out of dry dock, you idiot, are you trying to go back?
“Commander Marshall,” Glassford asked, turning to his intelligence officer, “what is the maximum speed of the Kongo-class.”
“Twenty-eight knots, sir,” Marshall replied, deadpan.
“The slowest ships we have here are our four-pipers at twenty-nine knots,” Glassford replied simply. “If we see enemy battleships, we will make smoke and break contact. Admiral Phillips will then bring up the Prince of Wales and Revenge from Australia and we will have another go at our friends with our big brothers as back up.”
The officers chuckled tightly at Glassford’s joke.
Of course, that plan only works if no one’s damaged, Jacob observed mentally. If the Kongos show up after someone’s gotten themselves crippled, we’ll be wishing the Prince of Wales was a little closer. Jacob could not fault Admiral Phillips for wanting to be cautious in light of recent events.
“What is our plan in case of air attack?” Captain Fitzpatrick, new master of the H.M.A.S. Australia, asked.
“All vessels will maneuver independently and fight off their attackers,” Glassford replied.
Standing to the rear of Admiral Glassford, Jacob saw several of the British lower ranking officers exchange glances.
It’s our doctrine, Jacob thought to himself, feeling the sweat from the already sweltering tropical heat trickle down his back. American commander, we fight American doctrine. In absence of heavy ships for whom they were providing a screen, the official navy doctrine was for cruisers and destroyers to use their superior maneuverability to evade enemy attacks. Given the differing maneuvering circles of the vessels and the confined waters they would be operating in, separating and fighting it out made sense.
It’s not like the Pacific Fleet staying together seems to have made much of a difference, Jacob thought bitterly. They even had carriers.
Glassford was about to respond to the glances when Houston’s watch officer, Lieutenant (j.g.) Merriweather came in the door with a message flimsy. For a brief moment the young officer paused, not wanting to interrupt the briefing until Captain Wallace waved him over to his seat near the compartment’s aft bulkhead. The OOD walked over and handed the flimsy to Captain Wallace and waited patiently at parade rest, feeling the eyes of the room on him. Houston’s master took one look at the message then handed it to Admiral Glassford.
As pale as the old man just got, somehow I doubt that’s news the Japanese have said “just kidding,” Jacob thought.
Glassford read the message once, his fingers whitening on the paper. Face set in a thin line, the flag officer turned to the captains.
“Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that the Port of Darwin is currently being attacked by carrier and four-engined aircraft,” Glassford said. “There is no word yet on losses, but this force will sortie within the next thirty minutes. Good luck to you all and Godspeed.” The group came to attention and saluted Glassford, which he returned.
Jacob was already passing through the hatch by the time all of this happened, the Lt. (j.g.) Merriweather in tow. He began giving orders as soon as both of the men were in the passageway.
“Sound General Quarters immediately,” Jacob ordered calmly, knowing things were about to get rather interesting. “Where is the harbor pilot?”
“I have sent someone ashore to get him, sir,” Merriweather responded. “I have already passed the word for the ship to begin going to General Quarters but did not want to interfere with the briefing with the ship not being in imminent danger.”
“Good man. The captain will be on the bridge shortly, probably with Rear Admiral Glassford right behind him. Make sure you render the proper respects and are aware of the readiness of each of the departments. I am heading back to Battle Two,” Jacob stated.
“Aye aye, sir,” Merriweather responded. Jacob headed out onto the main deck then back towards Battle Two, checking on the Houston’s anti-aircraft guns as he went.
Jacob had just stepped into Battle-2 when air raid sirens began sounding all around the harbor.
There’s no way the Japanese should be able to bomb in this storm, but stranger things have happened, Jacob thought.
“Status report,” Jacob barked as he stepped into Battle Two.
“Sir, we’ve got steam and can start moving as soon as you want us too,” Lieutenant Connor reported. “All boilers are lit, the watch is all present, we’re ready to sail as soon as the captain gives the order.”
Jacob nodded, his face creasing with the first smile of the day. Seeing this, the sailors standing in Battle Two with him all breathed a sigh of relief. It was not a good day when the first thing that happened was the XO went ballistic because someone failed to do their job.
“Sir, the pilot is aboard,” one of the talkers stated, relaying the message from the bridge.
“Thank you,” Jacob replied.
Houston was as ready as a man-of-war could be. Now it remained to see what the next few hours brought.
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
1630 Local (2130 Eastern)
27 March
With over forty Navy and Army fighters circling overhead, the Yorktown eased her way into Pearl Harbor’s carrier berth #1. Sparing a moment to look down at her wooden deck, Sam could see that the ship’s crew appeared to be at general quarters, guns manned just in case. Around the harbor, the carrier’s escort was also tying up to their quays.
Even with all these fighters, not sure we’d be able to stop another attack like the last one, Sam thought. At least those Army jerks managed to fight to something resembling a draw. Looks like even our Wildcats are outclassed by the new Japanese fighter. “Ramshackle copies of Western designs my ass.” Sam nearly clenched his fists thinking about the idiots in intelligence that spread that rumor.
“All right gentlemen, tighten it up,” Major Bowden’s voice came over the radio. Sam snapped back to reality, bringing his flight back around to orient on that of the squadron commander’s.
Okay, Sam, need to stop getting distracted, he thought to himself. Be a shame to score two kills on day one of the war then run into someone on day two. At least all four of our kills got confirmed.
“All aircraft over Pearl Harbor, all aircraft over Pearl Harbor, this is Octagon Base,” Sam’s radio crackled. “Unidentified aircraft inbound bearing three zero zero, altitude twenty angels, range one hundred fifty miles from Oracle Station. All Army aircraft, move to intercept.”
What kind of radar direction is that?!, Sam thought to himself. Then, after a moment, he thought about how bad life had to be for the controllers below. There were aircraft from three different services, five different wings or groups, and eight different squadrons flying over the Yorktown. Giving an order to a “Red Flight” would probably lead to total chaos.
“Look sharp, Marines, we’re next in the batting order,” Bowden barked over the net. The plan, worked out hurriedly between the staffs of Vice Admiral Pye, now the acti
ng Commander-In-Chief, Pacific Fleet, and General Short, was for Army aircraft to make any initial interceptions. These interceptions would be followed by those of the Marines and Navy fighters.
“All Army aircraft, all Army aircraft, belay the last order. Incoming aircraft are friendly, I repeat, friendly aircraft,” the controller corrected.
I wonder who in the hell that could be, Sam thought to himself. Enterprise?!
Over an hour later, as the approaching aircraft began making their initial contact with the fields that would be receiving them; Sam realized he had been correct in his assumption…and that Vice Admiral Halsey had brought friends.
“Okay Green and Red flights, time to go home,” Bowden’s voice came over the radio. “Blue and Yellow flights are on station.”
“Roger Red One,” Sam replied. “Do you want Green Flight to recover at Hickam, over?” Sam asked.
“Green One, this is Red One,” Bowden said. “Negative, meet me on the ground.”
I don’t know why he sounds perturbed, Sam thought to himself. He briefed Hickam as a possible secondary field, and Ewa is kind of crowded at the moment. Looking over at David, he saw his twin brother raise his hand and shake a finger at him.
Laugh it up, knucklehead, Sam thought. You know he’ll just make you Green Flight leader if he relieves me, right?
The short flight back to Ewa was made in silence. As Red Flight was the first one to land, Sam kept Green at ten thousand feet for top cover. Once the runway was clear, he led the flight down, not wanting to keep Bowden waiting. As he shut down his aircraft and shoved back his canopy, he noticed Bowden still at his aircraft conferring with two men. With a start, he realized one of the men was MAG-21’s executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel John McKenna. The other man had his back to Sam, but was wearing Navy whites and looked strangely familiar.
“What gives?” David asked, coming up to stand beside his brother. Seeing both Cobbs were done shutting down, Bowden motioned for both men to come over.
That’s unusual, Sam thought. Major Bowden usually likes to keep squadron business in the squadron, not out in the open for everyone to see. As they walked closer, Sam suddenly recognized the officer in question and had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around Nick. Pausing, he saluted Bowden and McKenna, both men returning the gesture with sly grins.
“What in the Hell are you doing here?” Sam asked his younger brother.
Screw military bearing, Sam thought, grabbing his brother in a bear hug before he had a chance to answer.
“Good to see you two, sir,” his brother said. “You’re hurting my ribs.”
“We’ll leave you three to get caught up, then you come find us at Flight Ops,” Major Bowden said.
“That’s all three of you come find us, gentlemen,” McKenna added.
“Yes, sir,” Sam said. All three Cobb brothers saluted Bowden and McKenna as the two men walked off.
“Lieutenant Colonel McKenna was very helpful in finding you guys,” Nick said after a moment.
“His son’s on Wake,” Sam replied quietly. “Now, again, what in the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be at sea with Nautilus?”
Nick winced.
“Nautilus is gone,” he began, then gave his brothers a quick run down of how the war’s first day had gone for him. Sam and David looked at him in awe, their eyes wide in shock as he told them of the attack on the Zuikaku and Shokaku.
“We had just started to try and come back in when the port engine seized up,” Nick finished. “We made an S.O.S. call back to Pearl for a tow. They sent the Tautog and Narwhal to give us what aid they could. Division commander takes one look at Nautilus and ordered us to scuttle her, he wasn’t risking two more subs to save a wreck.”
Sam could hear the pain in Nick’s voice.
“So, to answer your original question, everything but this spare pair of whites is currently sitting in a ‘wreck’ at the bottom of the Pacific,” Nick finished grimly. “I’m here because the division commander immediately requested a Catalina to fly back Commander Freeman and myself to speak with Rear Admiral Graham about our weapons’ failures. Which is fine, as even with bum torpedoes we still got at least one, maybe two of those bastards.”
“I thought the Army boys were trying to claim a carrier?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, ask them what condition they found her in,” Nick replied derisively.
“We better go join Major Bowden,” David interrupted, pointing towards the hangar where Bowden and McKenna were waiting outside Operations.
“Have you guys heard from Eric?” Nick asked worriedly. “I understand Enterprise and Victorious just arrived in range, but haven’t heard anything about Hornet after seeing her air group.”
As if on cue, the door to Operations opened to reveal a familiar form joining Bowden and McKenna.
That can’t be good, Sam thought, both David and he starting to slow. Nick had enough time to look at them puzzledly before the third officer spoke.
“Gentlemen, we really have to stop meeting like this,” Chaplain McHenry stated, his tone indicating he was only slightly joking. “I am glad to see you as well, Lieutenant (j.g.) Cobb, as my next stop was Rear Admiral Graham’s office to find you before Major Bowden and Lieutenant Colonel McKenna informed me you were here.
“What’s happened, sir?” Sam asked evenly, even as he felt his palms start to sweat.
“Again, your brother Eric is alive,” McHenry started out. “He’s been wounded.”
“Shit,” David cursed angrily, then gained control of himself.
“It would appear that your family has plenty of heroes in it,” Bowden said, his voice flat. “Unfortunately, it would appear that you are all also here in Hawaii or close by.”
McKenna looked from the squadron commander to the Cobbs.
“Whole family?” McKenna asked, eyes narrowing.
“Sir, our sister is here in the islands as well,” Sam replied. “She is rooming with an officer’s daughter in Honolulu.”
McKenna’s eyes narrowed further.
“So if the Jap fleet comes back with transports, there’s a chance all of you will be caught on this island together?” McKenna asked incredulously.
“Yes, sir,” Sam and David answered simultaneously.
“Okay, that’s it,” McKenna snapped. “I am giving you two a direct order. You will decide immediately which one of you is going to do the speaking, effective immediately. What does your sister do here in the islands?”
“Sir, Patricia works in the public library,” Sam replied.
“Sir, some people do not have a problem with entire families being potentially in harms way,” Bowden said. “I have a good friend who serves on the Juneau, and he says that they have five brothers on board.”
“I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” McKenna snapped. “In light of Lieutenant (j.g.) Cobb’s near miss aboard his submarine, Lieutenant Cobb’s wounding,you’re your encounter with four enemy aircraft, I think it’s time we give your mother some relief. You’re both grounded, effective immediately.”
“Sir, Captain Cobb is…” Bowden started.
“I’ll send you replacements, Major Bowden,” McKenna said, waving away the protest. “As soon as it can be facilitated, I’ll also send orders for you to send these two back to the mainland.”
Both Sam and Eric’s faces fell in shock, a look mirrored by Major Bowden.
“In light of your change of status, you gentlemen have three days pass. Use this time to find your sister and get your affairs in order,” McKenna continued. “I don’t care what in the hell other people do, I’m not going to be responsible for your mother going to a looney bin.”
“Sir, my wife…” David began.
“Will be evacuated at the earliest opportunity with the rest of the dependents,” McKenna said. “I’ve already got the G-1 making up the list. I strongly suggest you gentlemen get your sister on it as well.”
Nick, Sam, and David all lo
oked at each other.
“Sir, with all due respect, that’s not a good way to keep my mother’s sanity or my brothers safe,” Nick said quietly.
“Lieutenant (j.g.) Cobb, that’s none of my business,” McKenna said simply. “If she wants to stay here, good luck to her. I don’t imagine the Army or Navy’s going to march anyone out of here at bayonet point.”
Looking at his watch, Lieutenant Colonel McKenna turned to Major Bowden.
“I’m going to need you to be at headquarters in two hours, Major Bowden,” McKenna said. “The old man should be back from Fleet Headquarters around then. I suspect we are going to be going to visit Wake.”
“Yes, sir,” Bowden said.
“Until then, carry on,” McKenna replied. The group came to attention, Bowden saluting and receiving the courtesy in return. As McKenna got into the wing car, Major Bowden turned back towards the two men.
“I think he’s being too sentimental,” Bowden snapped. “But orders are orders.”
“Sir, what’s happened with Wake?” Sam asked.
“The Japanese tried to invade yesterday afternoon,” Bowden replied. “Wake’s fight went a lot better than ours did, but casualties were still heavy. Lieutenant Colonel McKenna’s son was listed among the wounded, and his wife’s extremely distraught.”
Well now I understand the comment about our mother, Sam thought.
“You need to go find your sister,” Bowden continued. “Then you need to go find your brother. Scuttlebutt is that the Denver will be in later today due to torpedo damage with Hornet’s survivors.”
“Someone’s talking too much, sir,” Nick said, his voice incredulous. Bowden looked left and right, then back at the three Cobbs.
“Scuttlebutt, in this case, is Mrs. Bowden,” Major Bowden observed, drawing a slight smile from Sam and David as Nick colored. “I think she feels she can trust me, seeing as how she sleeps next to me every night.”
“Understood, sir,” Nick replied sheepishly. “My apologies.”
“No apologies needed,” Bowden replied. “If I didn’t have an inside source someone would be talking way too much indeed. You three get going—I think you need to get to your sister sooner rather than later.”
