THE LAST LIEUTENANT: A Todd Ingram Novel (The Todd Ingram Series Book 1)

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THE LAST LIEUTENANT: A Todd Ingram Novel (The Todd Ingram Series Book 1) Page 44

by JOHN J. GOBBELL


  Imperial Japanese Combined Fleet, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto Commander in Chief:

  1) MAIN BODY - ADM Isoroku Yamamoto

  a) BatDiv 1 Yamato - Flagship, Nagato, Mutsu

  b) Carrier Group - Hosho (CVL) 8 bombers, 1 DD

  c) Special Force - Chiyoda, Nisshin (seaplane carriers serving as tenders)

  d) Screen (DesRon 3) Radm. Shintaro Hashimoto

  i) Sendai (CL Flagship)

  ii) DesDiv 11 - 4 DDs

  iii) DesDiv 19 - 4 DDs

  iv) 1st Supply - 2 oilers

  2) FIRST CARRIER STRIKING FORCE (1st Air Fleet--Kido Butai) - VADM Chuchi Nagumo

  a) Carrier Group VADM Nagumo

  i) CarDiv 1

  (1) Akagi (CV, Flag)

  (a) 21 Zero fighters, 21 dive-bombers, 21 torpedo bombers

  (2) Kaga (CV)

  (a) 21 Zero fighters, 21 dive-bombers, 30 torpedo bombers

  ii) CarDiv 2 RADM Tamon Yamaguchi

  (1) Hiryu (CV, Flag)

  (a) 21 Zero fighters, 21 dive-bombers, 21 torpedo Bombers

  (2) Soryu (CV)

  (a) 21 Zero fighters, 21 dive-bombers, 30 torpedo bombers

  iii) Support Group - RADM Hiroaki Abe

  (1) CruDiv 8 - Tone (CA Flag), Chikuma (CA)

  (2) 2nd Section, BatDiv 3 - Haruna, Kirishima

  iv) Screen (DesRon 10) - RADM Susumu Kimura

  (a) Nagara (CL) Flag

  (b) DesDiv 4 - 4 DDs

  (c) DesDiv 10 - 3 DDs

  (i) DesDiv 17 - 4 DDs

  v) Supply Group - Oilers, 1 DD

  3) MIDWAY INVASION FORCE (2nd Fleet - VADM Nobutake Kondo)

  a) Invasion Force Main Body

  i) CruDiv 4 (less 2nd section)

  (1) Atago (CA Flag), Chokai CA

  ii) CruDiv 5 - Myoko (CA), Haguro (CA)

  iii) BatDiv 3 (less 2nd section) - Kongo, Hiei

  b) Screen (DesRon 4) RADM Shoji Nishimura)

  i) Yura - (CL Flag)

  ii) DesDiv 2 - 4 DDs

  iii) DesDiv 9 - 3 DDs

  c) Carrier Group

  i) Zuiho (CVL) - 12 Zero fighters, 12 torpedo bombers; 1 DD.

  d) Supply Group - 4 oilers, 1 repair ship

  e) Close Support Group

  i) CruDiv 7

  (1) Kumano (CA Flag); Suzuya (CA), Mikuma (CA), Mogami (CA).

  ii) DesDiv 8 - 2 DDs.

  iii) 1 Oiler

  f) Transport Group - RADM Raizo Tanaka

  i) 12 transports carrying troops

  ii) 3 patrol boats carrying troops

  iii) 1 Oiler

  g) Escort (DesRon 2) - RADM tanaka

  i) Jintsu (CL Flag)

  ii) DesDiv 15 - 2 DD

  iii) DesDiv 16 - 4 DD

  iv) DesDiv 18 - 4 DD

  h) Seaplane Tender Group - RADM Riutaro Fujita

  i) Seaplane Tender Div 11

  (1) Chitose (CVS) 16 fighter seaplanes, 4 scout seaplanes,

  (2) Kamikawa Maru (AV) - 8 fighter seaplanes, 4 scout planes.

  (3) 1 DD; 1 patrol boat carrying troops

  i) Minesweeper Group

  i) 4 Minesweepers

  ii) 3 Submarine Chasers

  iii) 1 Supply Ship

  iv) 2 Cargo Ships

  4) ADVANCE (submarine) FORCE (6th Fleet) - VADM Teruhish Komatsu

  a) Katori (CL flag) at Kwajalein

  b) SubRon 3 - RADM Chimaki Kono

  i) Rio de Janeiro Maru (submarine tender, flag) at Kwajalein

  ii) SubDiv 19 - 4 submarines

  iii) SubDiv 30 - 3 submarines

  iv) SubDiv 13 - 3 submarines

  5) SHORE BASED AIR PATROL (11th Air Fleet) -- VADM Nishizo Tsukahara at Tinian

  a) Midway Expeditionary Force - Capt. Chisato Morita

  i) 36 Zero fighters (aboard Nagumo's carriers

  ii) 10 land-based bombers at Wake; 6 flying boats at Jaluit

  b) 24th Air Flotilla - Minoru Maeda at Kwajalein

  i) Chitose Air Group - 36 Zero fighters, 36 torpedo bombers at Kwajelein

  ii) 1st Air Group - 36 Zero fighters, 36 torpedo bombers on Aur and Wotje

  iii) 14th Air Group - 18 flying boats at Jaluit and Wotje

  6) NORTHERN (ALEUTIANS) FORCE (5th Fleet) VADM Moshiro Hosogaya

  a) Northern Force Main Body

  i) Nachi (CA Flag)

  ii) Screen 2 DDs

  iii) Supply Group - 2 Oilers, 3 Cargo Ships

  b) Second Carrier Striking Force RADM Kakuji Kakuta

  i) Carrier Group (CarDiv 4)

  (1) Ryujo (CVL) 16 Zero fighters, 21 torpedo bombers

  (2) Junyo (CV) 24 Zero fighters, 21 dive bombers

  ii) Support Group (2nd section, CruDiv 4) - Maya (CA), Takao (CA)

  iii) Screen (DesDiv 7) 3 dds, 1 oiler

  c) Attu Invasion Force - RADM Sentaro Omori

  i) Abukuma (CL Flag)

  ii) DesDiv 21 4 DDs

  iii) 1 Minelayer, 1 transport carrying troops.

  d) Kiska Invasion Force - Capt. Takeji Ono

  i) CruDiv 21 - Kiso (CL), Tama (CL), Asaka Maru (auxiliary cruiser)

  ii) Screen (DesDiv 6) - 3 DDs

  iii) 2 transports carrying troops

  iv) Minesweeper Div. 13 - 3 minesweepers

  e) Submarine Detachment - RADM Shigeshi Yamazaki

  i) SubRon 1 - I-9, Flag

  ii) SubDiv 2 - 3 submarines

  iii) SubDiv 4 - 2 submarines

  7) GUARD (Aleutians Screening) FORCE - VADM Shiro Takasu

  a) BatDiv 2 - Hyuga (flagship), Ise, Fuso, Yamashiro

  i) SCREEN - RADM Fukuji Kishi

  ii) CruDiv 9 - Kitakami (CL, Flag), Oi, (CL)

  iii) DesDiv 20, 4 DDs

  iv) DesDiv 24, 4 DDs

  v) DesDiv 27, 4 DDs

  vi) 2nd supply unit - 2 oilers

  * * * * *

  Moaning softly, Chiyoko rolled over. He jerked awake. He'd fallen asleep for a couple of hours. His right arm was free now and he flexed, it helping the circulation to return. Looking down he made sure she breathed evenly, then ran a hand lightly over her hair. Then he looked at his summary again. As far as he knew, the AF operation was indeed the largest naval attack force afloat in the history of mankind. He really felt the diversionary attack in the Aleutians was unnecessary and preferred to concentrate everything for the Midway attack. But he decided to let his young staff have their head. It would give them the experience needed for planning attacks on the U.S. mainland early next year.

  Besides, he knew he had enough forces for this operation--except perhaps for Nagumo's Kido Butai. For this engagement, they would be down to four out of the six original heavy carriers. Two heavy carriers, the Zuikaku and the Shokaku, were casualties of the Coral Sea Battle and definitely would not be available. But that was not of concern to him. Nimitz had only one, possibly two, carriers with which to defend.

  He wanted to be with the Kido Butai, that's where the action would be. But he knew his position as Commander-in-Chief had to be aboard the Yamato with the Main Body Attack Force, six hundred miles behind the four carriers. He gave a sigh. Chuchi Nagumo would have all the challenges. And all the fun. Yamamoto trusted Nagumo; he'd done an outstanding job executing the Pearl Harbor attack. And this operation was well planned. Nothing should go wrong, now.

  Besides, surprise was on their side.

  Chiyoko stirred once more and fell back to an untroubled sleep. A glance out the window told him the rock garden shadows were much longer. Dawn would come soon. He listened carefully, making sure Chiyoko breathed evenly. Satisfied, Rengo Kantai drifted off to his own blissful sleep.

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  18 May, 1942

  Nasipit, Mindanao

  Philippines

  Ingram woke with a wracking cough.

  "Shhhhhhh." A hand fell lightly over his mouth.

  For a moment he panicked. He wanted to tear away the hand but he was too weak. He shook his head, seeing light patterns like those cast by venetian blinds.

  Where am I?
/>   "Stop wiggling, damnit."

  It was a woman's voice. His mind was fuzzy and it took a moment to figure it out. Amazing! "Helen?"

  "Quiet."

  "Helen."

  "Shhhht." Her response a cat's hiss.

  He lay back and groaned.

  A hoarse whisper drifted from Sunderland. "Mr. Ingram, damnit. Shut up before I pop you with a crowbar."

  Feet stomped overhead. Guttural shouts echoed and shadows flicked through the light shafts.

  Those are Japs up there.

  Men. Soldiers. Growing fully conscious, Ingram realized Japanese were directly above. His head lay in Helen's lap and her hand still rested on his mouth. He looked up, finding the shadows emphasized her cheekbones. She still wore Whittaker's ball cap which somehow isolated a compelling and basic simplicity. It was much like the cap she wore when they first met. And even in that moment, the enemy just a few feet above, he caught himself admiring the structure of her face, in spite of her sores and in spite of the fact that her eyes darted about, surveying the threat above. Her chin, her white teeth, and the small birthmark on her neck, the way her left eyebrow arched was all a magnificent combination of delicacy and power and self-determination.

  She glanced down nervously, smiled for the briefest of moments, then looked up with the light painting dim, parallel streaks over her. Her hand remained on his mouth and perspired exuding, not the odor of sweat, but fear.

  .He moved. Dirt crunched under his back as he moved. Cutting oil fumes crept in his nostrils. Familiar figures were huddled around and with thick floorboards above he reckoned they were in a basement of some sort. To his right, soft amber sunlight played over mounds of gas masks and helmets. Farther back stood a stack of several long, wooden crates. A box was open, and a cosmoline-smeared rifle barrel glinted inside. Other crates were piled carelessly about labeled "grenades" or ".30 caliber." Another half-dozen stubby crates were labeled "dynamite."

  Suddenly two figures, wearing sandals and drab jungle fatigues, stomped not more than four feet above him. There was a rapid burst of Japanese; the figures turned and walked away.

  Nearby, someone groaned, but it was quickly muffled.

  Another whispered hoarsely, "Okay for water?"

  Helen's head jerked in a nod.

  Soon, there was splashing, followed by a choked gurgling. Then it was quiet. For a while the world seemed to mark time, as if the clock had stopped altogether. It was hot and stuffy, and flies buzzed around Ingram's face. He put a hand to his cheek wiping off sweat. Half his face was bandaged and his head hurt. "Ohhh."

  One of the men cursed not ten feet away.

  "Quiet Bones," another said.

  "...can't stand 'em," Yardly whimpered.

  Something grazed his ankle and bumped his knee. Ingram looked down into two tiny beady eyes. Another glistening pair were poised beside his boot. "Uggggh." Helen clamped her hand hard over his mouth. He spasmed his legs; the rats scurried off. With effort he controlled his breathing. Helen eased her hand away just as they heard coarse shouts outside. Feet thumped, a tailgate slammed, and an engine started. The driver had trouble coordinating transmission and clutch. Someone shouted, the gears clanked horribly, and finally the truck pulled away.

  "What time is it?" Ingram rasped.

  "Quiet. It may be a trick."

  "How long have I been out?"

  "Delirious," she said softly.

  "Whatever. How long?"

  "Almost two days."

  "What time is it, now?"

  She flicked her wrist and held it to a shaft of deepening amber light. "Five-thirty," she said.

  A figure crawled close. "Welcome back, Mr. Ingram."

  Ingram recognized Pablo Amador's quiet whisper. "Pablo, what's going on?"

  "I think the Hapons are gone for the time being, but Manuel tells me they're planning to convert this into a headquarters of some sort."

  "When?"

  "Soon. Possibly within the week."

  Ingram looked up at the flooring. "How do we get out of here?"

  "Ramirez and Carrillo will move the lathe."

  "Lathe? Where the hell are we?" said Ingram.

  Amador said, "Nasipit. Under the lumber mill."

  Ingram's mouth was dry and he tried to swallow. "What happened with the B-17?"

  "The motors stopped turning. You crashed."

  Ingram broke into a sweat as he remembered TILLY's propellers jerking to a stop; the bomber slamming into the ground. "Anyone figure out why?"

  "Lieutenant Beardsley says the gas was spiked with water."

  Ingram sank back in Helen's lap. The Japanese had spies throughout the Philippines well before the war. A lot of material had been sabotaged. Suddenly he jerked upright. "Is everyone okay?"

  "Relax," Helen said. "You have a concussion."

  Ingram felt the bandages again. "Owww. Tell me how to relax with a concussion."

  She said. "Your head hit the instrument panel. Multiple lacerations on the right side. You're fortunate they have Novocain here. I had to sew up your cheek again."

  "Oh."

  "To begin with, it hadn't knitted well. I don't think you took very good care of it." She wrinkled her forehead, imitating a fourth-grade school teacher holding a switch behind her back.

  "You sound better," he said.

  "I am."

  "Much?" He raised his hand to her face.

  Helen pulled her head away. "Yes, much better, thank you. “With the back of his hand, he grazed a cigarette burn near her ear. "How are they doing?"

  She jerked her head again. "Itch like the dickens."

  "Good."

  "...ah..."

  "What?"

  Ingram wanted it off his chest. "Japs surprised us just as we started the engines. They began shooting. We didn't have a choice but to try and go then. I’m sorry. We couldn’t get back here to pick you up.”

  "I know."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Forget it."

  "But--"

  "Forget it, I said."

  After a moment he said, "You didn't answer my question."

  "What?"

  "Is everyone okay?"

  Silence.

  "Come on, damnit," he said.

  "Later," she said.

  "Rocky," Ingram called quietly.

  Bartholomew's crumpled chief's hat took shape beside him. "How you doin', Sir?"

  "Fine. Look, Rocky. Give me a casualty report. I want it all. Understand?"

  Bartholomew looked at Helen.

  "All of it," Ingram said.

  "Okay." Bartholomew's voice broke as he whispered, "Mr. Holloway took one in the chest. He was dead before we hit."

  Ingram said, "My God." Thunder, lightning and the bellowing of TILLY's engines filled his head. He could almost hear the rain thumping on the B-17's aluminum fuselage as she surged down the runway. He remembered another sound: the chatter of fifty-caliber machine guns in TILLY's top turret. "Sunderland. He got his turret going."

  "At the last moment, a squad of Japs tried a banzai charge on the plane with grenades. Sunny nailed 'em." said Bartholomew.

  Another image came to focus in Ingram's mind. "Whittaker fell when we were starting up."

  Bartholomew nodded grimly. "Pete was hit pretty bad. We got him inside, but I think he was gone by the time we took off."

  Another dead. In near darkness Ingram bit his lip then asked, "What about Forester?"

  Bartholomew sucked through his teeth for a moment. "Hit in the shoulder. Miss Durand says..." He looked up.

  "He lost a lot of blood; we're still not sure," she said.

  "You worked on him?"

  "That's what I do."

  "I mean, you feel that good?"

  "Better than standing around and watching people writhe in pain."

  "Well, thank you." Ingram whispered, "Everybody else okay?” Bartholomew said, "To a point. We've been on the run. Tired. Hungry. Japs are madder than hell. Between Sunny and Mr. Amador's scouts, we kil
led more than half that patrol. Next day the little bastards went on the rampage. They lined up thirty civilians in Amparo and shot 'em outright. Another twenty or so in Cabadbaran. Butuan was the worst. Fifty were machine-gunned. And they left the bodies in the street for the flies and rats. And you know whose doin' it?"

  "The jerk in the white suit, I'll bet." Ingram spat.

  "Yeah, he struts around and orders people out of their huts to die. You should have seen what he--"

  "Shhh," said Amador.

  A large shape scraped above them. Amador said, "That's the lathe. Ramirez." He shouted a phrase of Tagalog.

  Ramirez shouted back, and with grunts he and Carrillo shoved a large piece of machinery. Soon a section of the floor swung up, flooding the area with late-afternoon light. Ingram saw that most of the men were bandaged, only two appeared untouched. There was something else. Yardly stared vacantly at the ground, Beardsley's head hung down, and Sunderland lay with his back to them.

  Toliver's silhouette filled the hatchway. He leaned down and said, "All clear."

  "Stinks in here." Sunderland lurched to his feet and hoisted himself out.

  Like zombies, the others worked their way through the hatch, then lifted a heavily bandaged Junior Forester. Helen Durand went out right behind them, to make the groaning sailor comfortable.

  Ingram was alone so he wobbled to his feet and grasped the edges of the hatchway, finding his chest even with the floor. His head swirled for a moment as he blinked and squeezed his eyes, adjusting to the late-afternoon sun. Dust motes sparkled in the light shafts and Nasipit, at five-thirty in the afternoon, was strangely silent. Looking up, he studied the lumber mill's cavernous ceiling. Its intricate network of rafters and trusses had been created in a more gentler age by architects and engineers and craftsmen not bent on killing each other. Their symmetry mocked him. It was a taste of civilized achievement ridiculously intact in a world gone mad.

  He was too damned weak to hoist himself out. The others had forgotten him and stared into space from wherever they collapsed to the floor. The hell with it, he thought. He wiggled, trying to muster the energy, but only managed to raise a leg halfway toward the hatch.

  "Come on, Skipper." Bartholomew and Toliver reached down to pull him through, and half carried him to a stack of quilted furniture pads in a corner.

  Ingram panted as he sat. "How's Junior now?"

  "No change." Helen came over and eased beside him.

 

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