The forty and twenty-millimeter gunners took careful aim before opening fire. When they did, the lightly built Oscars diving on them disintegrated in a hail of exploding and incendiary shells.
The flight leader called for additional attack planes from Munda, not wanting to dilute his formation on the Lunga Point attack. He didn’t want to risk any more planes and crews after the two fighters went down.
It was fifteen-fifteen on the bridge clock. Captain Lanner knew more air attacks could come before dusk fell. “OOD, contact the supply office and have half the men fed as soon as possible. Then they can return to their stations and relieve the other half. No delays, I expect another attack before nightfall.”
“Sir, signal called, AGAR says to slow to fifteen knots to conserve fuel and with the calm sea, try the sound equipment.”
The OOD gave the necessary orders, and the forced draft blowers spooled down as the load lowered. The two ships rapidly slowed to fifteen knots, and the sound heads were lowered into the down position. Soon the soundmen were trying to pick out man-made sounds from the hissing of the sea across the sound heads.
Six G4M “Betty” bombers, armed with torpedoes, took off from Munda. The planes hugged the surface of the Solomon Sea, seeking to surprise the Americans. With the short distance of thirty-two miles to travel, the planes were nearing their quarry almost before they got set in for the flight.
A lookout on the AGAR was the first to spot the half dozen bombers as three winged up to turn toward the HALLIS. He immediately called the bridge with the startling report.
Captain Gilford grabbed the TBD, “HALLIS, torpedo bombers coming in on the deck from zero-three-one-degrees true, range five miles.”
“I copy.”
With both ships alarmed, all available five-inch mounts wheeled around and began firing at the attackers. The forties and twenty-millimeter cannons took up firing vectors but wisely waited until the planes entered their vectors and range. Seconds later, the forties opened up.
“All ahead flank turns for thirty-five knots, double acceleration, stand by for severe maneuvers, right ten degrees.” the Captain yelled to be heard over the gunfire. The ship heeled to port in response to the change of the rudder angle, causing men to grab anything to maintain their footing.
Heavy gunfire caused the Betty’s to readjust their attack plan, and the flight commander ordered two attackers to charge in on both sides of the bows of the HALLIS to catch them in a crossfire.
The mottled painted planes split apart, with the third swinging to the starboard of the ship. The pilot’s order was to torpedo the destroyer from the starboard quarter while everyone’s attention was on the oncoming attackers.
Captain Lanner, being familiar with attack tactics of aircraft, quickly recognized the setup. “Talker, tell Main Control to standby for emergency back down and tell the after lookouts to look for a bloodsucker trying to sneak in astern.”
“Aye, sir.” The young man sent out the orders in a professional voice, older than his years.
The Captain ran to the starboard wing, looking at the positions of the two incoming G4M’s. The port one was ahead of its partner coming in on the starboard bow, both low over the water.
The G4M’s carried the latest Type 91 Mod 3 torpedoes. The eighteen-hundred-pound torpedo carried a five-hundred-twenty-nine-pound explosive charge at forty-one to forty-three knots. These were deadly weapons for destroyers; it only took one to put a can out of commission for extensive repairs, assuming the ship didn’t sink.
The Captain watched the port attacker through his binoculars as it bore in ignoring the flack. Noting the bomb bay doors were open, Captain Lanner watched for the drop. Suddenly the torpedo dropped from the plane’s belly. A glance at the starboard plane showed the splash beneath the belly of the plane where the torpedo entered the sea.
“Helm, all back emergency, one-third,” immediately Chris felt the ship reacting to the sudden strain on the engines as they tried to stem the forward rush to destruction.
The OOD looked at the Captain with his face full of questions. The Skipper yelled over the gunfire,” I’d rather damage the engines than take two torpedoes, any day.”
The bow plunged into the sea, throwing two men caught off guard, into forward bulkheads. Chris held his breath, along with several others as the torpedo wakes arrowed in toward the bow. One went by; then, the second torpedo crossed the first one’s wake, both missing the ship by five feet. They weren’t out of danger yet. There was yet another G4M out there somewhere, and he’s setting up another attack.
“Bridge, after deckhouse lookout, a twin-engine enemy plane is inbound from one-two-zero off the bow, low over the water.”
“Bridge, aye.” The talker informed the OOD, who went into action.
“Fire Control, inbound attack from one-two-zero off the bow, open fire.”
Before the OOD passed the word, Fire Control picked up the lookout’s warning and had the mounts take a bead on the Betty. When the order to fire came through, the first round went off as the OOD finished his order. He turned and looked at the Captain, who shrugged his shoulders.
Black popcorn puffs began appearing near the bomber, but the pilot was good. He maneuvered the big plane back and forth, up and down, effectively evading the deadly puffs.
Captain Lanner stood on the starboard wing, watching the bomber, which was still two or three miles away. The forties began coughing out their two-pound shells. The Captain watched the pilot’s moves. The plane was a mile away, and the Captain’s sharp eyes saw a pattern forming.
“Helm, be prepared for some radical maneuvers and notify the OOD for the announcement. Your first move will be starboard five degrees, then when I give the word, I want the maximum rudder to port, with a full back on the port shaft, flank on the starboard shaft. You will have to watch the clinometer to keep us from rolling. Adjust the rate of turn as you see the need. Make sure Main Control is aware, hurry, we’re running out of time.”
Captain Lanner turned back toward the bomber, now with its bomb bay doors open. He yelled into the bridge, “Right five degrees.” The ship began to respond. The black torpedo fell from the plane, which took numerous hits in the cockpit at the same time.
The Captain yelled, “Left full rudder, port shaft back emergency full, starboard shaft ahead flank, double acceleration.” HALLIS quickly heeled to starboard as the bow began coming to port. Knuckles of swirling water broiled behind the hard-pressed destroyer. In the fading light, bioluminescence sparks were becoming visible.
Chris Lanner stood riveted to the starboard wing, his eyes locked onto the thin wake making its way toward his ship. His eyes were widening in horror as he saw the torpedo rapidly intersecting with the starboard side of the Fletcher, which continued to slip away from the track.
The seventeen-inch diameter torpedo scrapped the side of the fleeing ship and continued past without exploding. Half a mile behind them, the wreckage of the G4M began sinking into the deep.
Suddenly, the air was still; no aircraft were attacking the ships, leaving the only sounds coming from the screaming blowers in the stacks and the water rushing along the hull, then breaking into a wave.
Captain Lanner scanned the darkening skies while listening intently, no screaming aircraft engines. “OOD, check with radar and find out if there are any planes on the scope.”
“Sir,” the talker spoke up, “signal message from AGAR. Head zero-six-four, speed fifteen.”
Seconds later, the Captain got his response to his inquiry, “Sir, no aircraft or surface contacts.”
“Very well, all ahead two thirds at fifteen knots, make your course zero-six-four-degrees.”
“Aye, sir.”
The blowers began spooling down as the ship slowed to its ordered speed, turning toward the MTB’s landing point. Their speed should put the ship about a mile to a mile and a half offshore in an hour.
Captain Chris Lanner picked up the IC phone set and called the Operations Center. “This is
the Captain, keep a sharp lookout for any indications of enemy ships, our firefight with those planes will most likely draw some to investigate. And don’t forget the possibility of a surfaced sub charging its batteries. I’d rather we didn’t catch a fish again.”
“Aye, sir.”
The Captain then punched up the Fire Control director overhead, “Captain here, I have ops watching for any surface intruders, concentrate your electronic fingers on spotting any surfaced subs, we don’t want to get into trouble on this run. That air attack was unfortunate, and I expect it to draw flies.”
“I understand Captain; we’ll search every square inch within range.” Answered the Assistant Operations Officer, Lieutenant Jg Robert Brown.
An hour later, the only way to know they were before Rendova was the lack of stars blotted out by the rising landmass. The radio shack began sending the notification signal to the two boats. In five minutes, the boats answered and reported its mission completed, and they were ready to egress the area.
While waiting for the two MTBs, one sent a message: “Picked up IJA transmission requesting sea search for two American destroyers operating in their area, beware of enemy warships.”
Signal rushed the message flimsy to the Captain. He initialed the receipt, and after reading it, he called the OOD. “The islands enemy commander has called for a surface force to find us, get us ready for surface action, but do it quietly.”
“Aye, sir.”
Captain Lanner grabbed the TBS and called Captain Gilford. “Tom, did you get that warning message from the MBTS?”
“Copy, we’re getting ready for a surface action now.”
“Same here, take care.”
“You too, out”
It took the men a few minutes to pull the camouflage away from the boats and make their getaway, but they made their appearance on schedule. The four vessels headed into the Solomon Sea to make a wide detour around any islands where the eyes and ears of the enemy searched from the shores.
The OOD asked, “Sir, do you think they will send air units out for us again?”
Captain Lanner looked at the younger officer and said, “You can bet on it. Have signal come to the bridge.”
In less than a minute, an almost breathless young sailor from signal entered the bridge. “Seaman Second Beaman, reporting, sir.”
“At ease, sailor, I want a signal to the MBTs as to their maximum sustained speed.”
“Aye, sir,” and he was gone, leaving Chris with a smile.
A few minutes later, the response came through, “Sea state allows a sustained speed of thirty knots.”
At that time, the vessels were doing twenty knots. Chris called the commander to recommend thirty knots on the information from the MTBs. Captain Gilmore concurred and had their speed increased accordingly on a course of one-two-zero.
At zero-seven-forty, with a bright day in the offering, radar alerted the bridge, “Three destroyer-sized returns bearing three-four-seven degrees, course one-six-eight, speed thirty-five knots, and distance thirty miles. We also picked up a flight of an unknown number of aircraft from the same bearing, twenty-mile distance, and closing.”
The talker passed the information to the OOD and Captain. The Skipper called out, “Prepare to repel enemy aircraft from three-four-seven degrees.” The ship's antiaircraft batteries came to full alert for another bout with the IJA Air Force.
The Captain grabbed the TBS, “Tom, think we can get any cover or help from Cactus?”
“I’ll alert them, and since they want what we have, they may, but I think we may be on our own.”
“Indeed, out”
The OOD looked at his captain, the obvious question on his face. Captain Lanner said, “It’s like a fire aboard the ship; we have to put it out.”
The young man nodded and licked his lips.
****
The Japanese flight leader spotted the four wakes before seeing the vessels. “Leader to all aircraft, split into two flights as we planned, the Americans will divide to try avoiding our strike.”
****
“Bridge, radar, the enemy air strike has split into two smaller flights, one is heading for AGAR, and the other is still bearing in on us.”
The Captain took the call in stride, at least they would only have to contend with half the total number of planes, but they have the additional firepower from the PT’s as well. Captain Gilmore ordered the PT’s to split and each stay with a destroyer for mutual support. Now with each pair, they could manage their defense more effectively as they separated to two miles apart.
Two G4M’s armed with torpedoes separated from their flight to take up attack formations from the port and starboard as they planned.
The flight leader called the four Nakajima KI-43 Hayabusa’s in the escort flight and ordered them to destroy the ship’s antiaircraft defenses. The “Oscar’s,” opened their throttles and pushed over the sticks to dive on the destroyers. The enemy fighters were armed the Ho-103 twelve-point-seven machine gun, two in the cowl, and firing through the propeller. At close range, it was almost as deadly as the Browning .50 caliber but used a smaller casing. The American Browning uses a full half-inch round that causes much more damage and has a greater range and muzzle velocity.
While still beyond the range of the Oscar’s, the American destroyers opened five with the five-inch main guns, the forties, and twenties. On the MTBs, their defensive weapons were two-dual fifty caliber gun mounts and a twenty mounted on the stern. The additional antiaircraft guns proved the two vessels possessed sufficient firepower to demolish the strafing fighters before they got a shot off.
Despite the display of dense antiaircraft fire, and in an attempt to break up the deadly defensive pattern, the Japanese commander ordered all his aircraft to attack at once. The tragic attack of the Oscars only fueled the rage in the pilots to take revenge. The planes peeled off and flew a mile from each of the two vessel groups, and in a turning, shallow dive, quickly dropped to within a few feet above the sea. Now they were coming in from four directions at once with blood in their eyes.
Captain Lanner sized-up the situation; the Japanese commander had ordered them into a shrinking box, and that could be deadly. “OOD, have that boat open the distance between us to two hundred yards but stay in the formation for mutual defense.” The order went out, and the MTB slid to starboard, their gunners as ready as possible.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The small force continued on its base course of one-two-zero at thirty knots, skipping across the smooth waters to the southeast. The Japanese attack force was more than a hundred miles an hour faster and rapidly overtook the four vessels.
The flight commander, his round face red and contorted, as his rage seethed over the loss of four of his best escorts. He radioed the crew to prepare for torpedo attack plan six. In which another G4M would accompany his plane to the north of the target, and the other two bombers would swing wide to the south. From their positions, the four planes could release four of the seventeen-inch torpedoes at a forty-five-degree deflection. The angles were well within the designs for a proper attack. The target could not turn in either direction without being hit by those fish coming at the ship from the other direction.
Captain Lanner watched the four bombers swing away and quickly descend. “Signal tell the PT boat to expect a torpedo attack from about two-seven-five-degrees. They won’t be the target; we will.” Turning to the OOD, “We will have to split our firepower; their movements indicate they will have two Betty’s come in from about two-seven-five and the other two from about three-two-zero-degrees. They are going to try to catch us in a vice. Have Main Control standby for an emergency back down, and to push her to the max,”
“Aye, sir,” he said with wide-open eyes. ‘More of those wild maneuvers, this ship will never see the end of the war,’ ran through his mind.
The Captain grabbed the TBS phone and called the AGAR. “Tom, watch out for a torpedo attack from the after port and starboard quarters si
multaneously.”
“Copy,” was the only reply from the equally busy man. The air in the enclosed bridge seemed suffocatingly heavy. Their shirts and trousers clung to them like a second skin, sweating profusely from both the stress of the impending attack and the heat radiating from the steel enclosure.
The Captain opened the port wing hatch and looked for the aircraft coming in. He spotted them and yelled over the gunfire to the OOD, “Have a man stand by the hatch as a relay for voice commands.”
The ship was up to thirty-five knots speed as the planes approached. Captain Lanner called out, “Helm, slow to thirty knots.” Seconds later, the high-pitched whine of the forced draft blowers in the stack behind the bridge spooled down several octaves, and the ship began to slow.
Watching intently, the Skipper watched as the bomb bay doors opened in the belly of the planes. He called out, “Standby for emergency back down.” The command was relayed, causing everyone to feel increased stress.
Black stick-like objects fell from the Betty’s, and Captain Lanner yelled, “Emergency back down, both shafts.” Things happened fast; every gun aboard the ship was pouring out shells as fast as they could.
One of the Betty’s lost a wing as a direct hit from a five-inch shell sliced it away; then, it exploded a hundred yards behind the stricken plane. With no support from the missing wing, the Betty rolled violently to starboard and fell into the sea, taking its crew with it. The deadly torpedo had already been dropped and was on its way. Then the lead Betty took hits from a twenty-millimeter cannon which punched several holes about the aircraft, starting a fire from an intersected hydraulic line. Splinters from the exploding shells wounded the cockpit crew, and the pilot pulled back on the yoke, putting the plane into a steep climb.
Attack of the Greyhounds Page 20
