On Seas So Crimson

by James Young

  Even if they’re more than old enough to vote, they look impressive enough, Jacob allowed. Leading the line was the H.M.C.S. Ramilles, sister ship to the Revenge, and likewise armed with a main battery of eight 15-inch guns. Next in line were the identically armed Valiant, Phillips’ flag, and Malaya, both of the slightly faster Queen Elizabeth-class. Trailing the three battleships were the heavy cruisers Cornwall and Devonshire, while nine destroyers circled protectively. As Jacob watched, the Commonwealth vessels all began running up their massive battle pennants, the famous “red duster, white ensign.”

  Well, can’t have them showing us up, can we, Jacob thought. Turning, he was about to grab a runner when he heard the sound of rustling cloth. Looking up, he saw the largest Stars and Stripes he had ever seen making its own way up the Houston’s flagstaff. For a moment he felt a lump in his throat, then forced it out with a loud cheer. Startled at the uncharacteristic display of emotion from their XO, the men around him were silent, until several of the older, saltier chiefs began shouting in turn. In moments, the Houston’s top decks were pandemonium.

  Somewhere up there, Jones, Farragut, and Decatur are watching with a smile on their face, Jacob thought. This is the navy that they built, and we will do them proud today.

  Continuing aft, Jacob suddenly realized the men were breaking into ‘Anchors Aweigh’. As he entered Battle Two, he could see several of the older hands eyes glistening with pride, and fought down his own tears by picking up his binoculars to look aft over the ships behind the Houston.

  The fast group was arranged with the Hobart in the van, followed by the Houston, the ever pugnacious Exeter, the twin battlecruisers Renown and Repulse, the Prince of Wales, the damaged De Ruyter, Achilles, Ajax, and finally the H.M.C.S. Dorsetshire. The destroyer screen, arrayed so as to protect against any interfering submarines, consisted of the Dutch destroyers Piet Hein, Van Ghent, the Commonwealth and Australian destroyers Express, Eclipse, Encounter, Intrepid, Arunta, Jupiter, and the new American arrivals Tucker and Smith.

  We are going to kick those bastards’ asses today, Jacob thought. Then it’ll be the Krauts’ turn.

  If Jacob could have been sixty-five miles away, he might have had a little less confidence. The IJN battleline had been placed under the command of Vice Admiral Nobutake Kondo, commander of the Third Japanese Fleet. Unlike the unfortunate Admrial Hart, Kondo had not been prevented from placing his flag on the battleship Mutsu. Like Phillips, Kondo had disposed the battleline into two groups based on speed. Steaming south, his westernmost column consisted of the fast battleships Kongo, Hiei, Haruna, and Kirishima in that order, each with eight 14-inch guns. They were supported by the Suzuya, Atago, Aoba, Kinugasa, Furutaka, and Kako, all 8-inch heavy cruisers.

  In the slower column were IJN’s older battleships. Leading the column were the sisters Ise and Hyuga, with their archaic arrangement of twelve 14-inch guns. Behind them were the similarly armed Fuso and Yamashiro, followed by the more heavily armed and armored 16-inch Mutsu and Nagato. Screening this massive force were sixteen destroyers and four light cruisers, the excess light forces being gained by leaving the transports of the invasion force in Balikpapan with only six destroyers as their escort.

  The Japanese plan was quite simple, a miniature of the plan they had intended to utilize against the American Pacific Fleet in their planned ‘Decisive Battle’. First, the Kongos, cruisers, and destroyers would press forward to gain contact with Phillips’ fleet. Upon making contact, the fast forces would conduct a long-range torpedo attack utilizing their Long Lances, the intent to cause confusion and attrit the enemy’s heavy forces. Once the enemy fleet was in disarray, the slower Japanese battleships would close and complete the destruction of the Allied forces utilizing their superior firepower. Seemingly simple on paper, in reality it would require a delicate combination of timing, accuracy, and luck to succeed.

  With hoisted flags and hastily blinkered signals, the plan was set into motion. Smoke pouring from their stacks, the four Kongos and all Japanese light forces except for six destroyers surged forward, accelerating to twenty-six knots. With only limited intelligence on each others’ forces due to the great violence being wrought in the skies above, Phillips and Kondo moved towards each other to being the Second Battle of the Java Sea.

  In the end, Captain Wallace was off in his estimate of time. The two columns had been steaming along at a relatively stately twenty knots for just over an hour when the first contact was made.

  “Lookouts report smoke bearing three four oh,” Seaman First Class Donald Dewey, Wedgewood’s replacement, intoned from the back of Battle Two.

  “Well, either that was the quickest two hours I’ve ever experienced, or our opposite numbers are as eager to get this over with as we are,” Jacob muttered, looking at his watch. He grabbed his steel helmet, putting the pan-shaped headgear on and making sure everyone else did the same.

  “Damage control parties ready in all respects, sir,” Chief Roberts said. Jacob started to reply, suddenly finding his mouth dry. Swallowing quickly, he nodded.

  “Range thirty-five thousand yards to enemy contacts,” Dewey sang out. “Prince of Wales is ordering an increase in speed and preparation to come to port to unmask all guns.”

  Jacob nodded, getting a mental image of the geometry in his head. If the faster column came to port, that would give the slower vessels room to turn in column behind them. When complete, the turn would establish a single long line of Allied heavy guns, with the destroyers and Commonwealth cruisers going forward to conduct torpedo attacks.

  Best to keep the plan simple, I guess, Jacob thought. We’re nowhere close to a well-honed squadron. He felt the Houston starting to heel over, not her sharpest turn but definitely not as stately as a peacetime column maneuver.

  “Range is thirty-two thousand yards, contacts are tentatively identified as four battleships and six heavy cruisers.”

  Jacob, turning, saw the Houston’s aft turret trained as far forward as it could go, the guns elevated near maximum. Looking back, he saw the Exeter’s forward turrets in the same condition, then more distantly the Renown, Repulse, and Prince of Wales. As the Houston came around he could see the aft turret starting to traverse, tracking the approaching Japanese.

  For their part, the Japanese had no interest in reenacting the German High Seas Fleet at the Battle of Jutland. As Jacob brought up his binoculars he could see the lead vessels starting to change their orientation to present their broadsides, the Kongos discernibly larger than their accompanying vessels. Behind the four fast battleships, the Japanese heavy cruisers began to make smoke as they increased speed, their own turn more gradual so that they did not foul their larger brethrens firing solution. Listening to the talker chanting down the range, Jacob suddenly felt his sphincter tightening and his mouth turning to cotton.

  “Range is twenty-eight thousand yards, all ships are cleared to fire,” Dewey said with finality.

  Jacob nodded, imagining Commander Sloan going through the computations up in the Houston’s director. Long range daylight gunnery was the U.S. Navy’s standard doctrine, the one event towards which all of its equipment, training, and tactics were geared towards. Whereas the night fights had been confusing, bizarre affairs, this was what Jacob and every other officer and sailor aboard the Houston had trained for.

  If this is supposed to be normal, then why do I feel like a nervous groom on his wedding night? Jacob thought.

  Houston’s firing gong began to ring. Looking at the aft turret’s orientation, Jacob winced and ducked back inside Battle Two. He was just in time, as with a massive roar all nine of Houston’s rifles spoke, the vessel shaking with the force.

  That fucking idiot Sloan fired a full broadside! Jacob was beside himself in fury as he brought his binoculars up. Standard practice was to stagger the fire of a vessel’s guns when the range was unknown, the intent being to shorten the amount of time between ranging shots. By firing a full broadside, the Houston’s turrets would still be in t
he midst of their firing cycle when the first shells landed. This meant if Sloan had to make a radical range correction the process would take far more time.

  I’m going to wring his neck, Jacob thought, stepping up to the spotting glasses on the bridge rail. Dimly, he heard several more blasts, and paused to look astern at the extended Allied line. The Renown and Prince of Wales had been the only other ships to fire, the other vessels either unable to induce the necessary elevation or unwilling to spend the rounds. Jacob turned back to the glasses just as he heard the sound of cheering from inside the aft turret.

  “Hit! We got a hit!” Dewey shouted excitedly a moment later, nearly jumping out of his chair in his excitement.

  “Good, now sit down!” Chief Roberts barked, pushing firmly on the young sailor’s shoulder.

  Jacob could not believe his eyes. Houston’s initial salvo had been on in range, speed, and course through either dumb luck or Sloan’s skill. Smoke poured from just abaft the Suzuya’s bridge. .

  “I can’t believe it! We’ve got to be the luckiest bastards in this fleet,” Jacob shouted.

  The next thirty seconds swiftly disproved Jacob’s nascent hypothesis, as the Renown demonstrated why she’d been a former Home Fleet gunnery champion. Like Sloan, her gunnery officer had fired a full broadside, having learned to rely on the range and bearing provided by the modern fire-control radar located on her mainmast. Even with the technological addition, hitting on the first salvo at twenty-seven thousand yards was a feat previously unheard of in naval warfare.

  While the hitting was not as much a matter of luck as a testament to Renown’s greater experience, the placement was enough to convince a vocal atheist of divine intervention. Almost twenty-six years before, at the Battle of Jutland, the Royal Navy’s ammunition had been a critical reason large portions of the German fleet had escaped. Well aware of this fact, the Royal Navy had spent much of the intervening time period refining and developing new shells for its battleship weapons for just such an occasion as Second Java Sea. Falling from its apogee, Renown’s 15-inch, 1938-lb. shell developed a massive amount of kinetic energy, more than enough to defeat even Kongo’s modified deck before terminating its flight in the forward port secondaries’ magazine.

  With a bright flash and puff of black smoke, the magazine exploded. In and of itself, this would have been a grievous but possibly not fatal wound. What finished the former battlecruiser, ironically constructed in her assailant’s homeland, was the same thing that had finished her cousins at Jutland—unstable cordite. In the split second after the explosion of the secondary magazine registered, the vessel’s forward powder magazine followed, snapping the vessel in half forward of the bridge. The fast battleship rolled to starboard onto her beam ends, the steel of her massive pagoda bridge structure screeching as it dug into the unyielding sea and bent backwards with the vessel’s momentum.

  Aboard the Hiei, the stunned captain and officers in the vessel’s conning tower saw the pristine stern come out of the water, props still turning as it slid underneath the waves. Barking commands that quickly began to bring his ship closer towards the enemy while still maintaining her broadside, the captain looked and saw only a spreading oil slick where the Kongo’s bow had been. Feeling the vessel starting to turn, the captain’s next inquiry, icily delivered, was to ask why the Hiei’s own guns were not speaking. His answer was the booming of the eight 14-inch rifles, a move that sparked the rest of the stunned Japanese line into action.

  “Damn, if the Limeys keep shooting like that this is going to be a short fucking war!” Jacob said in exultation, just as the Japanese riposte roared from their guns. All three remaining Kongos and the heavy cruisers opened fire, their gunnery officers choosing to utilize the more traditional range gathering methods in absence of radar.

  To his utter dismay, Jacob realized that the Japanese shells were discernible as they began their plunge. His mind dimly realized that there were five dots coming towards him with the characteristic rushing sound, then the shells were passing overhead to thunder in a tight group six hundred yards behind Houston. Turning around, he was just in time to see the Kinugasa fire the second half of its salvo.

  There was a dull whump! forward, and he turned to see Hobart’s Y turret lurching in train, smoke issuing from a small hole near the structure’s forward edge. Jacob was so busy concentrating on the light cruiser that he did not hear Houston’s firing gong. The heavy cruiser’s gun blast startled him, and he was suddenly glad that the heavy cruiser was at near broadside presentation to the enemy. The blast had no sooner dissipated, his hearing dimly returning, then Kinugasa’s second salvo arrived, the shells barely two hundred yards beyond Houston and almost one hundred behind her.

  Bastards don’t realize just how fast this vessel is, Jacob thought. Once more he checked the line, hearing the tail end of a vessel reporting damage. Astern, he saw that there were two vessels with damage, both the Exeter and Dorsetshire trailing thin streams of smoke from holes in their side. The Prince of Wales did not look like she was doing so well either, her forward quad turret silent and having returned to minimum elevation. Looking, Jacob could see no clear damage, but it appeared the battleship was working through some sort of issue.

  “Sir, we’re reducing speed…the Repulse and Renown are both reporting leaks forward,” Chief Roberts said.

  “So much for this being a ‘fast’ group,” Jacob muttered, the Houston’s engines starting to audibly slow. Turning his binoculars further aft, he could see the Japanese destroyers and light cruisers turning towards the ‘slow’ group of vessels as the distance between the two Allied forces steadily increased. The sound of snapping flags was suddenly audible, and he turned towards Houston’s signal bridge. This time he heard the firing gong and braced himself as Sloan sent the cruiser’s third salvo towards her opponents. Jacob turned to see the spot of shell and was just in time to see a bright flash high on the Hiei’s massive pagoda.

  Even if they cannot keep up their speed, the Repulse and Renown are both shooting lights out, Jacob thought exuberantly.

  “The Dutch are turning out of line to attack the Jap destroyers,” Dewey called out.

  Jacob turned around, raising an eyebrow and cocking an ear to listen to the speaker mounted on Battle Two’s aft bulkhead. Due to his inattention, he did not hear Kinugasa’s third offering coming in. It was an almost fatal lapse, as the Japanese heavy cruiser nearly found the range. With a high whine and several thunks!, Battle Two was scoured by several splinters and some spray. Belatedly ducking as his front was soaked, Jacob turned towards the structure’s side.

  Holy shit! he thought, startled at the three gouges barely a couple of feet ahead of him. Shaken, Jacob looked down to realize that the spotting glasses he had just been looking through a moment before were shattered, the storm of splinters having jaggedly removed the left side.

  Well that was a little bit closer than I would have liked, Jacob thought, stomach churning. Forcing the bile down, he turned towards Foncier.

  “Damage report,” he said crisply, startling the younger officer out of his own shock. With a rush, the lieutenant turned towards the talker, just as Houston began a gradual course change towards the Japanese line.

  Captain Wallace has started chasing salvos…this ought to be interesting, Jacob mused.

  The at first tidy sea fight was starting to degenerate into a disjointed brawl. Realizing that the Japanese forces were closing for purposes of a torpedo attack, Phillips was forced to begin turning his slower vessels to present a narrower angle. This had the effect of allowing the range to begin opening, the end result being only Valiant was able to fire a pair of salvoes at the faster Kongos before they were out of range. This was fortunate for the fast battleships, as Repulse and Renown’s fire alone continued to be dangerously accurate, but quite terrible for the Japanese light forces. In moments, the charging destroyers and light cruisers found themselves running a gauntlet of heavy shells as they attempted to close the range for their L
ong Lances.

  For their part, the Japanese heavy elements continued to gradually close the range. With their initial accuracy having left much to be desired, the Japanese seemed to suddenly land a flurry of hits. Exeter, having just fired her fifth salvo, was suddenly struck with two Atago shells. One shell, a dud, lanced into her aid station, killing the ship’s surgeon, while the second shell detonated in her captain’s cabin, causing minor casualties.

  Dorsetshire and Hobart were in some ways luckier than their Commonwealth fellow, in other ways worse off. Like Exeter, both of the first shells to come aboard were duds, each killing a couple of unfortunate sailors but doing little other damage. It was the second shell that caused significant dismay in each case, hitting the Dorsetshire’s torpedo flat and devastating Hobart’s A turret. In both cases, rapid damage control measures prevented things from being worse, the Dorsetshire jettisoning her torpedoes while Hobart’s crew quickly brought her fire under control.

  Jacob had just watched Hobart receive her hit forward when he heard the familiar ripping canvas sound of an incoming salvo. Ducking, he felt the Houston shudder, the sound of rending metal coming from forward. When there was no subsequent explosion, he quickly stood up.

  “Dud forward, into the secondaries,” Chief Roberts said, forestalling his question. “And there are minor leaks from the near-miss, but otherwise the old girl is fine.”

  Houston’s own batteries roared back at the Japanese line, Sloan firing another full broadside. The Suzuya had begun evasive maneuvers, also chasing salvoes. Like Houston, staying in line necessitated only gentle turns, and the Japanese heavy cruiser’s luck was similar. While the maneuver prevented her from being dead center in Houston’s salvo, it intersected her primary 8-inch director with a shell from No. 3 turret. With a bright flash, Houston turned the position to junk, killing Suzuya’s gunnery officer and blasting large segments of steel into exposed personnel forward. The heavy cruiser lost precious moments as her gunnery department began switching control of her main battery over to secondary directors, a respite the Hobart’s crew was extremely grateful for.