Attack of the Greyhounds

by H. Nelson Freeman

  Captain Gilford invited Chris to have a late supper with him on the AGAR. “What do you think about our encounter with that sub this afternoon?” Gilford asked.

  “I thought we had a good chance of bagging her. But, somehow, that sub driver slipped away, he’s good.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, I have a feeling we’ll meet again,” Gilford said.

  “I agree. Our set up was good; I think he is craftier than we gave him credit for and more resilient than we expected.” Chris offered, “He gave us the slip while the explosions caused the bursting bubbles that blinded our soundmen.”

  “Unfortunately, there is little we can do about that. Maybe in time, but not now.” Gilford mused.

  The two discussed tactics for another hour, then Chris crossed over to the HALLIS. He went to the wardroom and drew a cup of coffee. Taking a pad of paper and a pencil, he went over their tactics again, trying to uncover how and why the enemy sub escaped. It was after midnight by the time he turned in.

  ****

  Captain Lanner was up by zero-five-thirty, just as the duty Bo’sun blew reveille. Chris washed and shaved, then made it for the wardroom. There, along with a table full of other officers, Chris completed the waking up process with a hot cup of black coffee. During breakfast, the Officer Corps of the ship went over the day's plans, which were left open with the probability of returning to sea imminent.

  Following the morning ritual with the raising of the national ensign, the ship’s crew went to work. Their primary assignment was preparing the ship for a war patrol or escort duty.

  The Captain only had to wait an hour; a messenger knocked on his cabin door, where Chris was working on a backlog of reports and other paperwork.

  “Sir, this just came in, marked urgent.”

  “Thank you, seaman, have the message logged as delivered.”

  “Aye, sir,” the youngster said.

  The Captain sat at his small fold-down desk and opened the message. Cactus sent the message to Captain Gilford of the AGAR, Captain Lanner of HALLIS, and three older destroyers buoyed nearby.

  The Captain checked his watch, then called the quarterdeck, “OOD, this is the Captain. Inform the Chief Engineer to prepare the plant to get us underway by ten-hundred hours; call the XO to my cabin immediately. Transfer your watch to the bridge at zero-nine-fifteen and set the Special Sea and Anchor detail at zero-nine-thirty; by then, the underway watch will have taken over.

  “Aye, sir,” the line went dead.

  A knock at the door broke his concentration. Opening the door, he was handed a thick envelope by the quarterdeck messenger.

  “This just arrived, sir.”

  “Thank you, have you seen the XO?”

  “No, sir, but the Bo’sun called for him to lay to your cabin.”

  “I heard the call; he should be here soon.” No sooner said, and the XO bounded up the ladder to the Captain’s cabin.

  “XO reporting, sir.”

  “Grab a seat, Leroy; we have new orders to go over.”

  “Where do they say we're going?”

  “Into harm’s way again, I’m afraid.”

  “Oooh!”

  “We get underway at ten-hundred-hours, our destination is “The Slot.” We’re being transferred to Cactus control again. They give no mention of specific assignments. I can only believe those will be coming from Cactus.”

  “I hope he doesn’t send us over the Java Sea again.”

  “I concur, but if the admiral does, we go.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Chris handed his XO the orders, “Go over them and get the department heads moving on getting the ship ready.”

  “From what I saw on my way up here, they already got the word, sir.”

  “We have a good crew here, Leroy, we have to make sure they all come home this time.”

  “I hear you, sir. This ship has already lost too many good men. The best thing to come out of it is your becoming her Skipper. I’m not brown-nosing; the entire crew feels the same way.”

  “Thanks, Leroy, that means a lot. “I’ll do my best, and if I even smell like I’m sliding, you kick my ass, understood.”

  “Aye, Captain. But, somehow, I don't think that will ever be necessary.”

  Chris smiled at his friend as he got up to carry out his orders.

  Ten-hundred was upon them before they knew it, “Shift colors,” came out of the 1MC, as the ship’s horn sounded.

  The five ships headed out of the big bay with the AGAR in the lead. Captain Gilford set the transit speed at twenty-five knots; the admiral wanted the five cans there as soon as they could make the trip. The trip at twenty-five knots would put them in Assembly Area X-Ray at zero-eight-hundred the next morning.

  Twenty-two hours later, the ships pulled into the Assembly area. HALLIS and the three other cans received signals to take up a patrol across the north and sound entrances into the lower sound southeast of Savo Island. Two hours later, Captain Gilford recalled the ships and ordered them to anchor in the assembly area, where the CO’s boarded the AGAR for a meeting.

  Captain Gilford, being the senior commander of the small flotilla, addressed his fellow commanders.

  “Gentlemen, we have been tasked to help shut down the flow of supplies and replacements to Guadalcanal. For the commanders who are in this campaign for the first time, it has been dubbed the “Tokyo Express.” The enemy is crafty and innovative, not to mention they have us outnumbered in ships, guns, and torpedo tubes. The Japanese Navy is, as you know, the third-largest navy in the world. It would behoove every man to remember that the propaganda told the American public does not, I repeat, not, apply to our adversary. He is strong, confident, intelligent, and has been a sea-going country long before we became a nation.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, he can be hurt, his ships sunk, his aircraft shot out of the air, but he is an aggressive and skilled fighter. He is human and can be defeated. Remember, do not underestimate him. If you do, the consequences could be severe.”

  “The Japanese are sending destroyer class ships loaded with men and supplies to several points around the northern end of Guadalcanal. Sometimes they are escorted by cruisers. Also, be mindful, the enemy seems to have excellent night vision capabilities; this is something we have not yet come to understand. You will want to maintain a vigilant watch at night, which is when they make their runs.”

  “Chris, take the RICHARDSON and patrol the western side of northwestern Guadalcanal to the island of Vangunu, there have been reports of at least one or two runs down the western side by the Express. I’ll take HUFFMAN and DAVIS with me, and we will cover the eastern side. It’s a hundred and twenty-six-mile track of open water except for the Gatukai and Pavuvu island groups of the Russell Islands. We will use the highest frequency in the TBS, and maintain radio silence unless there is contact, then the unengaged ships will join in, and with a little luck, we can get them in a pincher. Questions?”

  “What kind of air support has this Tokyo Express been getting at night?” Asked George MacEvers, the commander of the RICHARDSON.

  Captain Gilford answered, “The only sign of aircraft was when a cruiser escorted some cans and put up an observation plane. No air attacks have occurred yet, but you know that can change at any time, particularly with Munda only a short distance away.”

  “How about submarine escorts?”

  “They would have to be pre-deployed if included in their assignment, and in the night time, they recharge their batteries. That doesn’t mean it can’t happen; we need to remember they are a threat. Everyone will have to maintain a tight watch. With AGAR and HALLIS having the only radar, they will work together to coordinate an attack. Any other questions? If not, we will use the first two letters of our call signs on the TBS, tune to the frequency you will get at the end of this briefing. Because the Japanese will be listening in on our regular frequencies, we must maintain strict radio silence; we don’t want to tip off them off.”

  AGAR led the
four destroyers into The Slot, where HALLIS and RICHARDSON made for the southwestern tip of Guadalcanal. There, they turned northwest to skirt the western coast of Pavuvu. The AGAR, HUFFMAN, and DAVIS did the same in a similar track about twenty to twenty-five miles to the northeast, thus putting three destroyers in the slot, and the other two in the Solomon Sea on the southwest edge of the islands. In the middle of the known Tokyo Express routes.

  Captain Lanner said to the OOD, “Have Operations lower the sound head, and begin listening for any submarines. Remind them we are maintaining a silent posture. Tell them we expect to maintain ten knots while we’re here unless we make contact with a submarine or the Express.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The minutes seem to stretch into hours and hours into days. In reality, they had been on their first leg of their track for a couple of hours.

  “OOD, have the XO report to the bridge.”

  “Aye, sir.

  Minutes later, the XO appeared on the bridge. “You sent for me, sir?”

  “Yes, this will in all respects, as it appears now, a long sortie. That means the men will get bored and tire easily. Have the sound and lookout watches rotate every two hours instead of four. They need to be in top shape at all times on this mission.”

  “I understand, sir.” With that, he left the bridge to modify the watches as needed.

  On the HALLIS, the bridge clock showed zero-zero-twelve, just twelve minutes after midnight. “Bridge, radio, we have a message from CE, it reads, radar has six ships nine miles northeast of Vangunu; course one-four-three, speed twenty. Return indicates five destroyers and a probable cruiser. We are at eight degrees, four-zero-one south by one-five-eight degrees, twenty-one-thirty-seven east. Join the party.”

  “Bridge aye,” said the OOD. He turned to repeat it to the Captain. Captain Lanner nodded his reception of the information.

  “Talker to radio, CE from OB, headed your way from eight degrees fifty-seven-thirty-six south by one-five-eight degrees, fifteen-fifty-six east at max speed.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Captain Lanner looked at a map of the area he kept with him. A quick check of the reported course of the Japanese ships showed they were diving below Pavuvu to make the northeastern tip of Guadalcanal; their track indicated they were going to go ashore on the northwestern area Guadalcanal from the Solomon Sea.

  “Bo’ sun 1MC.” The Captain took the mike, “This is the Captain, The AGAR group have made contact, and we’re heading for them at maximum speed. There is a good chance we’ll get into a scrap with the “Tokyo Express,” everyone prepare yourself for this engagement. Straight shooting and good luck, Captain out.”

  “Helm, come to course zero-two-three degrees, speed twenty knots. OOD, call Main Control and have them secure the cruising turbines. Bring the standby boilers to full pressure. As soon as the superheat is at eight-hundred-fifty degrees, increase speed to thirty-five knots at a standard rate of acceleration.” The Captain picked up the TBS and filled in the RICHARDSON.

  In Main Control, Mr. Banner, the Engineering Officer of the Watch, said, “I’m glad we have a Snipe on the bridge who knows what he’s doing.”

  The duty messenger, who had been standing nearby, asked, “Is that where Firemen MacDonald went when I came aboard?”

  The former Chief proudly said, “No, he went to the A Gang. The Snipe I’m referring to use to be a fighter pilot, and when he was hurt, he came to us. Here he became the B&M Division officer, then our Chief Engineer, and is now the Commanding Officer.”

  The wide-eyed messenger, a youngster of seventeen, stood wide-eyed, and said, “Wow, how did he do that? Our Chief in Boot Camp told that engineering officers rarely got out of engineering.”

  It’s a long and strange story of necessity, outstanding qualities, and being in the right place at the right time.”

  Twenty minutes later, the throttleman turned to Mr. Banner and said, “Sir, firerooms report four boilers on the line and available for maximum speed.”

  Ensign Banner said to the talker on the bridge sound powered phone circuit, “Tell the bridge we have four hot boilers ready for maximum speed.”

  The talker passed the word, which brought a smile to the Captain’s face.

  “Helm, thirty-five knots, standard acceleration. OOD, on the TBS to KX, thirty-five knots.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Behind the bridge, the men heard the scream of the blowers in the stacks spool up as the steam turbines yearned for more steam. Behind the two destroyers, the familiar rooster tails formed as the large bronze screws thrust the ships ahead. The disturbed sea of foamy bubbles and bioluminescence falling far behind the speeding ships.

  The two Greyhounds turned to the north-northeast, passing southeast of Gatukai, and rapidly gained speed as they approached just over forty miles an hour. As they reentered the calm New Georgia Sound, nicknamed The Slot, it allowed them to almost skip over the widely spaced swells.

  “Bridge, radar, we have maintained contact with the AGAR group, and now have the enemy ships on our screen as well.”

  “OOD, ship-wide, enemy coming into range, prepare for a surface engagement to port.”

  With that announcement, the entire crew braced itself for the up-coming blasts from the five-inch main batteries. Mounts fifty-three and fifty-four pivoted around to their stops on the port side. Those men at the twenty and forty-millimeter stations prepared to rake the decks of the enemy ships if they came within range. The crew had their ears back and were eager for the fight.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  As the two ships approached the Southwestern edge of the Russell Group (the largest island is Pavuvu), the TBS lit up, “OB, CE, hug the shoreline. They have turned to go under Pavuvu.”

  “OB copies.”

  “Helm ten degrees to port, but no closer than three miles. Talker, have radar give the helm constant distances, no closer than three miles.” Turning to the OOD, the Captain reversed an earlier order, “OOD, get ahold of Fire Control, our new position will make the surface action to Starboard.” Grabbing the 1MC, “Surface action will be to starboard due to a change in our position.”

  “Aye, sir,” the helm answered between the Captain’s orders.

  The ships began closing the western edge of the Russell’s “Bridge, radar; we are entering the maximum range of the enemy ships.”

  Captain Lanner called out, “I have the conn. Talker, inquire if Fire Control has the range and bearing of the enemy ships, and if so, what is their configuration?”

  “Aye, sir.” Twenty seconds later, “Sir, Fire Control now has the resolution to engage the Japanese ships; they are in a single column.”

  Reaching for the TBS mike, the Captain called the RICHARDSON, who confirmed they were ready and on target. Then the Captain reported his situation to AGAR.

  “CE to OB and KX, engage, engage, engage.”

  Captain Lanner gave the order that was the first salvo of the fight.

  “Open fire.”

  The bow half of the small ship began to shutter each time the forward main battery of five-inch guns blasted fifty-four-pound shells toward the enemy. The RICHARDSON added her firepower to the attack.

  Radar guided shells began falling about the enemy convoy. The gunfire gained the full attention of the destroyers and cruiser to the presence of the two American ships.

  The Natori class light cruiser turned its five-and-a-half-inch, listed as fourteen centimeter, guns toward the area of her attackers. Once they received the suspected range and bearing, the two forward twin mounts sent a four-round salvo toward the two destroyers. The four rounds were harassment and looking for a lucky hit. They missed.

  Within seconds the three AGAR group destroyers fired a three-round volley from their forward five-inch guns for a total of nine, fifty-four-pound shells. Three of them struck targets, two hit the cruiser, and one hit amidships on the last destroyer in line. The shell landed in a torpedo nest, starting a brilliant fire.

  **** />
  The unexpected attack from the second group of ships caught Captain Kiyoji Okuda, the convoy commander, as well as the ships commanding officers off guard. For them, it was the first time a pincher was used against them.

  Captain Okuda was incensed, they were only a short distance to their drop-off point, and now they find themselves in an ambush from two unknown sizes of enemy forces. He called his commanders, “Continue to return fire but do not slow down; these supplies and troops must get through.”

  ****

  The ambush turned into a running gunfight, with the Japanese having more firepower in the number of guns, but they were fully loaded with troops and supplies. The nimble Gleaves had the upper hand with radar and slightly greater speed. Captain Gilford directed the ships like a maestro.

  The Captain opened the IC circuit to Operations, “Radar, bridge, can you give me an indication of what class cruiser they have?”

  Seconds later, “It’s a little larger than the cans, probably the Natori class.”

  “Bridge Aye.” Turning, he grabbed TBS, “ All ships, we need a maximum effort on that cruiser, get within eleven thousand yards or closer, he has two-inch armor around engineering, the bridge, and turrets. HALLIS, RICHARDSON, get the transports, we’ll deal with the cruiser.”

  The two western ships acknowledged and continued after their targets. Gilford’s AGAR, along with the Huffman and Davis, honed in on the cruiser. The three swiftly moved to within in ten-thousand yards with the DAVIS astern, and the HUFFMAN to port and AGAR to starboard.

  “AGAR to DAVIS and HUFFMAN, fire at will with continuous barrage until that ship is finished.” Captain Gilford ordered. All three ships began pumping out shells at their maximum rate. The DAVIS, a four stack destroyer leftover from the ‘Great War,’ had four of the four-inch-fifty deck guns. One located on the bow, one on each side aft the bridge, and one on the after deckhouse. Her four-inch guns required her to get within about sixty three-hundred-yards or about three and a half miles. With no radar, Lee waited until the other ships opened up and started a fire or explosion. He didn’t need to wait long. And that allowed him to get up six-thousand yards, dangerously close to his target.