On Seas So Crimson

by James Young

  Why are we still turning? Jacob suddenly thought as he realized the ship was starting to orient back towards the Allied line. He leaned back into Battle Two to ask that question and got his answer before he had a chance.

  “Fire in #1 5-inch!” the talker said rapidly, then stopped, his face pale. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “The bridge is hit!”

  “Assume control!” Jacob shouted to the auxiliary helmsman. The man threw several switches then seized the vessel’s auxiliary wheel.

  “I have the helm, aye!”

  “Rudder amidships!” Jacob barked, seeing the Repulse and Prince of Wales following the heavy cruiser around. “Have damage control let me know if the bridge is destroyed!”

  “Aye-aye, Sir!” the talker replied.

  Judging from the lack of inquiry from the bridge as to why Battle Two had assumed control, Jacob had assumed that the captain was wounded or dead. If the bridge was gone, that meant he would have to continue to fight the vessel from his location, not the optimal place for a fight. However, if the bridge’s control apparatus were still intact, he would make his way forward.

  “Gunnery is inquiring as to our next actions, Sir!”

  Calmly, Jacob took stock of what he knew of the battle’s geometry in his head. The Houston was starting to steam back past the surging Allied battle line, the Prince of Wales and Repulse in tow. Apparently the Ramilles had realized the American heavy cruiser was out of control and had continued on her original path, firing at the now visible Japanese battle line. Dimly, he could hear Admiral Phillips voice on the TBS inquiring into their condition and why the Houston had turned out of line. That was followed by the De Ruyter reporting that she was taking friendly fire.

  “Tell Commander Sloan fire at the next target he sees, we’re coming back into the fight! Hard a port, make your course two seven zero.”

  “Two seven zero, aye-aye!”

  If Jacob’s guess was correct, Houston’s turn would carry her several hundred yards aft of the Allied battleline, at which point he would be able to make another turn and gradually arc to a location on the battleships starboard quarter. Thinking, he suddenly remembered what had made the initial turn so chaotic in the first place. He looked at the plot, the young ensign in charge furiously making notations. Casting a glance at the map, Jacob nodded to himself, sure that the Houston would clear. As he glanced at the map, seeing the geometry, the reason for the white flashes along the Japanese line suddenly hit him.

  “Shit! Torpedoes…tell the Valiant she is entering torpedo water!” Jacob shouted.

  Even if Jacob had been aboard the three British battleships his warning would have been far too late. Fired at roughly twelve to fourteen thousand yards, the Type 93s had been set to their faster, forty-eight knot setting, while their smaller 21-inch cousins had been set for forty-two. This meant the torpedoes had an approximately five to seven minute run before impact, virtually an eternity in naval warfare. For many of the crew of one vessel, the light cruiser Naka, the passage took on a literal meaning. Having had the misfortune to be set afire by the Dorsetshire, the Naka attracted the attention of most of the Allied fleet, especially those vessels which had not been in night combat previously. Smothered by a storm of smaller caliber shells, her armor barely above that of a destroyer, the Naka strangely enough did not explode and sink despite being set afire from bow to stern. Instead, her hull finally pierced numerous times, the light cruiser rolled over and sank just as the first Japanese torpedoes were starting to arrive.

  Whilst the only vessel of the port wing to be sunk, Naka was not the only vessel to be damaged. Indeed, if not for the disorienting effects of darkness, poor lighting, and the confusion caused by the Allies’ emergency turn, the Imperial Japanese Navy would have found itself missing many stalwart destroyermen when the sun next rose over the Java Sea. As it was, only one of the light vessels would come through unscathed, with the remainder seeing from two months to a year in various yards.

  In less than three minutes all of this damage was more than made up for. First to suffer, despite not being the primary targets, were the Allied cruisers. Far faster and nimbler than the battleships, the cruisers had managed to surge ahead so as not to foul the battleships range. The surge had brought them directly into the easternmost edge of ‘torpedo water’, meaning that only the lead vessels were in danger. Relatively, the odds of any one ship being hit were small due to the long range and changing geometry, the chance so small that even if they had been aware of the torpedoes the cruisers’ captains probably would have continued on their course.

  If not for the presence of the Kitakami and her extensive torpedo tubes, such a gamble would have likely been successful. However, when the Kitakami’s forty torpedoes were added to the fray this meant that the seven leading vessels in the Allied formation were steaming through a tremendous amount of torpedo water. When put into this perspective the Hobart, Cornwall, Exeter, Devonshire, De Ruyter, Danae, and Dragon were fortunate to only have ten hits spread between them.

  The first vessel to be struck was the De Ruyter. One moment the vessel’s guns were steadily engaging a Japanese destroyer with some success, the next the vessel was staggering and afire as one torpedo eviscerated her powerplant spaces and the other blew off her stern. In an instant the Dutch cruiser was a wreck, afire and rapidly flooding with no means to stop either problem. Despite the valiant efforts of her crew, the vessel was doomed and would sink sixteen minutes after first being struck.

  The Danae, throwing her helm hard over to starboard to avoid the derelict De Ruyter, saved herself from being hit. As the light cruiser passed by her stricken companion the De Ruyter’s crew could be heard cheering encouragement even as they struggled to save their vessel. Unfortunately for the Danae passing between a burning vessel and the enemy was not the most prudent course of action, resulting in her receiving three shells aboard. One of these destroyed the light cruiser’s ‘Y’ turret, setting off the ready ammunition and powder in the hoists. Making smoke, the light cruiser turned away from the enemy.

  Forward of the De Ruyter and Danae, the Devonshire and Cornwall’s masters had just enough time to wonder what had happened to the lead Dutch cruiser just before they found out first hand. Devonshire was fortunate, taking one of the smaller 21-inch torpedoes than a larger ‘Long Lance’. The 21-inch torpedo hit far aft, damaging one of the heavy cruiser’s props and opening a portion of her stern, while the ‘Long Lance’ snuffed out the vessel’s boilers. Coasting to a stop, the heavy cruiser was passed by her compatriots, her crew turning to the grim business of fighting the inrush of seawater and attempting to regain power before any Japanese units returned.

  Cornwall, her turrets still punching rounds into the burning Naka, never realized the danger she was in before two 24-inch torpedoes found her. Like the Devonshire, the first ‘Long Lance’ found her boilers, this one killing the entire crew and snapping the vessel’s keel just before the second did the same for the engine rooms. Adding insult to injury a third ‘Long Lance’ hit as the cruiser was coming to a stop. Striking the vessel in her aircraft fuel bunkerage, this ‘Long Lance’ caused the area between the third stack and ‘X’ turret to erupt into a blazing cauldron. Without power, and suddenly the most attractive target amongst many for Japanese gunners, the heavy cruiser’s crew began to abandon ship.

  Hobart, lead Allied cruiser, and Dragon, the last ship to pass through the torpedo water, were the final victims. The Australian vessel, her captain having just commented on her improved luck from the afternoon’s engagement, received two torpedoes. The elderly British cruiser, her antiquated equipment and relatively poor training having prevented her from effectively contributing to either of the battles, received only one. The end result was the same, as the vessels’ thin armor belts failed to prevent high explosive from detonating in fuel spaces. For the Hobart, the last HMAS vessel to have avoided damage in the Australian fleet, the second hit only hastened what was already a fatal wound. Coasting to a stop, the
light cruiser capsized to starboard in a little under ten minutes, the Java Sea putting out her flames as it claimed over three quarters of her crew. The Dragon received no such succor, the brilliant fire continuing to spread despite all efforts to fight it. Clearly finished, she was left to burn by both sides, her crew abandoning ship. It would take a little over thirty minutes for the fire to reach a magazine, the light cruiser breaking in half and sinking when this occurred.

  Having been unmasked by the cruisers’ surge, the Ramilles, Malaya, and Valiant had begun engaging their opposite numbers as soon as the vessels had been illuminated by starshells from the Prince of Wales then their light forces. This fire had been kept up even through the Houston’s impromptu turn from formation, and it began to tell even as Japanese battleships were still attempting to find the range and their torpedoes were decimating the Allied cruiser line.

  The Ramilles had begun firing on the Yamashiro, and began hitting on her tenth salvo. The first 15-inch shell, identical to those fired by Renown in her earlier engagement, had a much flatter arc at the shorter ranges of the current fight, resulting in it hitting the Japanese battleship in her much thicker belt. However, at seventeen thousand yards this merely meant that the penetration was not obscene, merely effective. Piercing the barbette for No. 2 turret, the shell vented its fury into the ammo hoists for that mount. If not for the sealed scuttles and protective apparatus installed as a result of the British experience at Jutland, Yamashiro’s carcass would have immediately joined that of Kongo’s on the bottom of the Java Sea.

  As it was, the hit started a fairly large blaze that greatly aided Ramilles aim, resulting in her hitting with her next salvo. This shell also easily overmatched the Japanese vessel’s belt and detonated in her engine room. With a cascade of sparks and a muffled boom! the armor-piercing shell destroyed one of the vessel’s massive turbines, the resultant spall greatly increasing the IJN’s casualty notification branch’s workload. Not the swiftest vessel in the best of conditions, the Yamashiro was slowed to twelve knots and forced to turn out of line.

  Malaya and Valiant both engaged the Fuso, Yamashiro’s sister ship, with devastating results despite a loss of accuracy due to their over concentration. The first to hit, Malaya’s put three shells into the Japanese battleship in quick succession, starting a tremendous blaze amidships, smashing her No. 1 turret, and holing her engine room. Believing the Japanese battleship to be finished, and with a plethora of targets shooting back at his vessel, Malaya’s gunnery officer shifted off the battleship while Valiant’s continued to engage. With flames shooting to the height of her massive pagoda mast and the problem of over concentration suddenly solved, Valiant even outshot her sister with four hits.

  With the Valiant’s first two hits simultaneously clearing the vessel’s signal bridge and turning her conning tower’s inhabitants into something resembling that which came out of a sausage factory, the vessel’s command fell upon her executive officer. While not a lightweight vessel by any means, the Fuso had never been intended to stand up to such a pummeling. The junior captain had just enough time to be informed of his impromptu promotion when Valiant’s third shell ended his tenure. The fourth shell, hitting almost immediately thereafter and cutting the battleship’s fire mains, ensured the hapless man had plenty of company for the journey to meet his ancestors. With the loss of water pressure, the raging amidships fire swept like a hurricane into the magazine servicing No. 3 turret, causing that compartment to erupt in a massive explosion that had debris landing around the Mutsu.

  Admiral Kondo, seeing the burning Yamashiro turning out of line and the Fuso’s explosion, realized that he would lose all of Japan’s battleline in one fell swoop if he was not careful. Screaming at his staff, he began ordering the battleships to turn away. It would be up to the destroyers and cruisers to damage the Allied battleline so that their Japanese opposite numbers could return to finish off cripples.

  “I’m going forward!” Jacob shouted above the din of Houston’s main battery firing again. “Lieutenant Foncier, you have the con!”

  “Aye-aye, Sir!”

  Jacob slid down the ladder to the main deck and began rushing forward. His leg attempted to buckle under him and he stopped, looking down to see that his previous wound had darkened his pants with blood. Biting down hard, he forced himself to move quickly past the firing port 5-inch guns in order to avoid hindering the firefighters still battling the blaze on the starboard guns. Looking around once more he realized that the Houston was still in the dark even though her 8-inch guns were like giant strobe lights whenever they fired. Looking out towards the enemy, he saw what could only be several Allied vessels afire. As he watched one of the three-funneled Commonwealth cruisers, her silhouette lined in flame, had her aft magazines detonate with a thunderous whoooooommmmmpppp! that was audible almost four miles away.

  Jesus Christ on rollerskates! Jacob thought. We’re getting creamed!

  With a roar the Prince of Wales fired at some distant target, the six shells proscribing a lazy arc towards the horizon. Aft of her, Repulse also fired her forward guns at a distant target. There was a flash then a bright burning on the far horizon.

  Maybe not, as long as those Limey battleships keep hitting.

  The “Limey battleships” in question were indeed hitting well. Unfortunately, despite their brilliant shooting, the Japanese retort was about to arrive. Even with the ten torpedoes absorbed by their cruiser escorts still over one hundred remained. Slow, cumbersome, and utterly fixated on their opposite numbers which they were so brilliantly pummeling, it was only in the last few moments that anyone aboard the three battleships realized the danger they were in. Whilst errors in Japanese aiming and a misjudgment of the vessel’s true speed made the number of torpedoes with a realistic chance of hitting maybe a third of those launched, that was more than enough.

  Ramilles was the first vessel hit. The ‘R’-class battleship had been designed to slug it out with her German counterparts in the North Sea which meant that almost a third of her weight was devoted to armor. Unfortunately, little of this was below the waterline to resist the two ‘Long Lances’, one amidships and one aft, that hit the elderly battleship. The first hit was like a stroke from a massive warhammer, ripping a gigantic hole in the vessel’s side at the point where the engine and boiler rooms adjoined one another. The second was like a whirling backhand blow with the same blunt object, opening another appalling gash just a couple dozen feet aft of where the first wound ended. Powerless, with a severe fire making her a beacon, the Ramilles came to a stop and began to list, her guns still trained to starboard. Realizing from the reports coming in that her fate was sealed, the battlewagon’s captain swallowed hard and made the hardest decision any captain could face. Twenty minutes later, with the majority of the survivors off, the old battleship proved the wisdom of his decision as she capsized to starboard and sank.

  Malaya, in one of the strangest flukes in naval history, was somehow missed. From the locations of the damaged cruisers, her captain would later determine the torpedoes that would have had the best opportunity to hit her had already eviscerated the Cornwall and Devonshire. Putting her helm over to port in order to pass the mortally wounded Ramilles, the Malaya checked fire as she did so. As a result her crew had a ringside seat to the worst sight of the night for the Allied side: the death of Valiant.

  The Valiant had just fired her first salvo at her next target, the Mutsu, when she was struck by two ‘Long Lances’. The first one, running shallow, hit the battleship in her armored belt, the thick armor minimizing the damage of the blast. Shuddering slightly, the battleship had enough time to fire another salvo when she was struck by the second ‘Long Lance’. Seeming almost guided by a malevolent force, the ‘Long Lance’ more than made up for its earlier companion by running almost as deep as it had shallow. Hitting the battleship between A and B turrets at the point where her belt was starting to thin as the hull curved, the ‘Long Lance’ sent hot fragments and debris into the ves
sel’s main forward magazine. While the Valiant’s propellant had been modified to provide added stability after the keen lessons of Jutland, its nature was to explode. Like the scorpion in the children’s fable it was unable to deny its nature in the face of opportunity.

  Hauling himself up the bridge ladder, Jacob was suddenly stopped dead by an explosion that made that of the British heavy cruiser seem like a child’s firecracker. The bright flash lit up his face, followed a few moments later by a gust of warm wind. Turning to look at its source, he felt he suddenly felt faint, nearly falling off the ladder. As he wildly flailed and managed to hang on, his mind screamed in terror at what his eyes were telling him. The Valiant’s aft end was starkly outlined by the inferno blazing in her fore half, the flagship clearly down by the bow.

  Oh sweet Lord…Jacob thought.

  He never had time to finish his prayer as suddenly it was raining all around the Houston. First there was a massive splash roughly five hundred yards off the port bow, some large portion of the Commonwealth battleship smacking into the water. Then there were shouts of surprise followed by screams of horror as several mortal remains of the Valiant’s crew began falling on the heavy cruiser, several falling wetly on the deck below where Jason was climbing the ladder.

  The revulsion snapped Jacob out of it.

  I don’t want to end up damn chum for some fuckin’ shark! he thought angrily. Fighting down the urge to vomit, he fought himself up the ladder and onto the bridge. Stepping into the structure, he was confronted with bedlam. Whereas pieces of the Valiant’s crew had been landing on the Houston’s deck, those of most of the bridge’s inhabitants were strung all about the structure. As he took another step forward he nearly slipped, going down to one hand and one knee in a blinding bit of pain. Feeling his hand wet, he looked down to see his hand covered in the normal aftermath of a violent death.