by M L Maki
“Dog 7. Go, Wingnut.”
“We are crossing south on the one lane bridge and are taking fire from Tiger tank north east of our position.” The tank turret rotates toward them.
“Roger, Wingnut. Confirm, you’re in the truck?”
“Affirmative.”
They hear a loud ‘Brrrrrt.’ The Tiger’s turret explodes off the tank, landing on the road in front of it.
“Dog 7, Wingnut, good kill. It’s time for the bridge to go.” They’re barely across when a unit of German infantry run onto the bridge and Johnny and the guys take them under fire. “
“Roger, Wingnut, taking the bridge.”
As they hurry down the country lane south of the river, the A-10 drops a cluster of 500-pound retarded bombs on the bridge.
SOUTHWEST OF GUADALCANAL
0710, 26 September, 1942 (2110, 25 September GMT)
As the Columbia closes the fleet, LCDR Shawn Hughes sees the North Carolina listing 20 degrees to port and low in the water. The Washington is burning and floating on its lines. The Canberra is on the port side of the North Carolina, so he maneuvers into position onto the Carolina’s starboard side. The Captain calls for the rescue and assistance detail.
Hughes says, “Boatswain, call for the line handling detail to muster, port side.”
He jockeys the engines to bring her smoothly and slowly alongside. Already the crew of the North Carolina is dewatering. The damage is clear in the bright morning light. Nearly every ship visible is damaged. In the distance, he sees a bow rising out of the sea. Below on the port quarter deck, he can see the XO mustering the detail.
Captain William A. Heard walks onto the bridge. BM2 Balls says, “Captain on the bridge.” Heard looks around, assessing the damage as he approaches Hughes. “What happened to QM2 Knox?”
“A chunk of the RIM launcher decapitated him, sir.”
“Are you all right?”
Hughes meets his captain gaze, communicating more that words, “I’ll make do, sir.”
“I need to reassign you. The CHENG was in 1 boiler room when it was hit.”
“How many people have we lost, sir?”
“It’s preliminary, but about 40. Everyone in 1 boiler is dead. That will make you shorthanded.”
“Understood, sir.”
“I have Lieutenant Smith coming up to relieve you.”
“Which ship sank?”
“The Minneapolis. The Astoria took a pounding, as well. We’ve lost the Minneapolis and the destroyer, Philip. The North Carolina is still questionable.”
“Sir, do we know what the Japanese lost?”
“We sank the heavy cruiser and a couple of destroyers. The rest of the group sank at least one battle wagon, a couple of cruisers, and three or four destroyers. Most importantly, we prevented their landing.”
“Sir, while we’re alongside rendering aid, aren’t we leaving the battlegroup exposed to aerial attack? The RIM is destroyed and we can’t maneuver to unmask the Mark 10.”
“It can’t be avoided. They need our help. The Blue Diamonds out of Guadalcanal will have to cover us.”
“Yes, sir.”
GERMAN OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
2156, 25 September, 1942
General Weber’s plane circles the field, studying it. Most of the buildings are intact and he sees the anti-aircraft units he ordered setting up. “Land us east to west.” The runway is in remarkably good shape. Once they’re down, a truck approaches and Hauptmann Kerr steps out and salutes, “Sir, the fuel tanks were not destroyed. All but one contains motor fuel, not jet fuel.”
“Understood. Send the fuel to the Field Marshal. He can use it. We’ll depend on the one and seek another source. Are the facilities clean?”
“Yes, Herr General.”
“Good. Now, we must plan a greeting for any enemy aircraft that ventures close.”
NUMBER 1 BOILER ROOM, USS COLUMBIA
0821, 26 September, 1942 (2221, 25 September GMT)
LCDR Shawn Hughes climbs down the ladder into Boiler Room 1. The fires are out and the compartment is de-smoked, but the lingering smell is a horrid combination of burned fuel oil, burned insulation, steam, and burned bodies. When he sees the CHENG being scrapped off the deck by the medics, he nearly vomits. To himself, “Focus, Hughes.”
Number 1 boiler is destroyed. The armor piercing round had to have exploded against it. Number 2 is damaged by debris. The canning is blown off and refractory scattered all over. “Great. It’s no doubt asbestos.” He looks at Number 3. It, thank God, is intact. The fires are out, but it’s still lined up to fire. On the deck in front of him is BT1 Jim Williamson, dead where he dropped.
Hughes moves to Number 4. As he’s inspecting it, BTC Jones from Number 2 boiler room, joins him. “What a mess, sir.”
“It is. I need you to get a watch team down here and light off 3 and 4. Once the boilers are lit, we can deal with the cleaning up.”
“What about the bodies?”
“Stretcher bearers are dealing with them. Chief, we need more than 19 knots.”
“Are you the new CHENG, sir?”
“I am.”
“Aye, sir.”
COMMODORE’S QUARTERS, RAF KENLEY
0352, 26 September, 1942
Samantha wakes with a start. Her mind is muddled as she swings out of bed. She stumbles into the unfamiliar bathroom and flips on the light. She looks at her watch, 0352. “Why am I awake?” She looks at her reflection in the mirror and barely recognizes herself. Her eyes are sunken with dark rings. Her cheek bones are more prominent. “I look like a heroin addict.” She does her business, washes her face, tames her hair, and pulls on a flight suit. Then it hits her. It’s quiet.
Sam walk into the control room, “Report.”
The watch officer says, “Lancelot 1 and 2 are orbiting east of York. Percival 1 and 2 are orbiting south east of London. Galahad 1 and 2 are returning. They will be on final in few minutes. Our new Griffin squadron has adopted the name ‘Merry Men’ and the call signs Robin 1 and 2, Little John 1 and 2, Tuck 1 and 2, Scarlet 1 and 2, Midge 1 and 2, and, finally, Maid Mary 1 and 2. Little John and Scarlet are engaging a raid near Portsmouth. We have two radar planes up. Dog flight 2 and 3 are covering the retreat from the Tees River line. There is a report that the Germans are not attacking into Scotland. Merlin is pre-flighting for a wild weasel mission. Texas lost four jets to the new German fighters. There are three new messages.”
“Thank you.” She picks up the messages.
FROM: COMBATDIV-5
TO: COMTFYAN
REG: Defense of Britain
Battleship Division 5 is en route to Britain and expect to make port at Scapa Flow on or near 0800 9/27/1942. We will join the home fleet in defense of Britain. We are accompanied by Cruiser Division 7 and a destroyer escort. Please advise on the availability of your unit to provide air defense of BATDIV-5.
Commodore Lewis James
She shakes her head and writes a reply.
FROM: COMTFYAN
TO: COMBATDIV-5
REG: Air cover for BADIV-5
Task Force Yankee will support the air cover mission where it does not interfere with the primary mission of defending the United Kingdom. Where BATDIV-5’s movements are coordinated with the Home Fleet that is already part of TYFAN’s mission. Current location of Home Fleet is Belfast, Northern Ireland, not Scapa. If BATDIV-5 is to work independently, please advise TFYAN of movements. Also, please advise how many and which vessels are in BATDIV-5.
Commodore Samantha Hunt
She picks up the next message. It’s from Vice Admiral Klindt’s office asking about storage and security of the nuclear weapon for which she is responsible. She writes a reply with the information requested. She picks up the third message.
FROM: CINC
TO: COMTFYAN
REG: Operational Authority
As the air defense of the British Isles is critical for the prosecution of war operations moving forward and the operations of
Task Force Yankee are critical to the defense of the British Isles, it has been noted that other US and Allied commands may task TFYAN to missions not critical to the defense of the British Isles. Therefore, operational authority shall reside with COMTFYAN, except those missions requiring CINC authority. COMTFYAN will report to LTGEN Eisenhower, Commander, European Theater of Operations (ETOUSA), who shall maintain overall operational command of US operations in theater and report to Admiral Lee, NAVAIR, for all material and administrative matters. All Naval units in and around the British Isles shall report to COMTFYAN, unless specifically otherwise assigned. All USAAF units in the British Isles shall report to COMTFYAN for missions involving defense of the British Isles. These missions are priority 1. TFYAN is priority 1 for all war materials and supplies.
Commander in Chief, Franklin D. Roosevelt
She reads it twice more, then, “Swede is in the air. Get me Cooper and get me Thud.”
Cooper materializes at her elbow and she hands him the President’s message.
“Commodore, General Eisenhower is on line two.”
Spike picks up the phone, “Hunt.”
“I take it you’ve read the message?”
“I just got it and I’m still processing what it means.”
Eisenhower asks, “What do you want to do with the 8th Air Force?”
“Can we shift them to anti-shipping? I want to prevent any resupply from Germany or France.”
“Done.”
“If they can safely do it, I would like them to engage radar stations on the coast of France.”
“Done.”
Thud walks in and she hands him the message. “Sir, where are we going to move them?”
“We’re shifting them south and north to keep clear of the Germans. We’re also converting a couple of B-17s to gunships as you suggested. We don’t have enough guns for more in theater, however.”
Spike nods, “When they’re ready, my guys will provide instruction and cover them.”
“The Army Airforce is also tasking the first two squadrons of F-1 War Eagles when they’ve completed their training.”
“The new jets? I’ve heard we had some in the pipeline.”
Ike says, “Yes, we’ll have them in a day or two.”
“Where are they going to be stationed?”
“We were going to put them at Duxford, but now they’re looking for a home.”
“I can hold the first two squadrons here at Kenley so we can get used to working together. Jesus Christ, I’ll have six or more squadrons working for me. I need a bigger staff.”
Thud emphatically nods his agreement.
Eisenhower, “You do. Do you want Army or Navy?”
“I want knowledgeable and competent.”
Ike laughs, “Is it okay if I put someone on it?”
“Yes, thank you. I have rather a full plate. I need good logistics, admin, and operations staff. In the Navy, we generally assign pilots to those duties, but our op tempo is too high for that to work. I also need a non-flight officer for a chief of staff. Someone who can handle what we do.”
“I know just the person. I take it we’re on track with the new aircraft?”
“Yes, we should get two more today.”
“Good. Any status on pilots?”
“They need to check out on the ’14 first, but they’re coming.”
“You’ll have your new chief of staff there in about a day. You know you have my full cooperation.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Take care, Commodore,” and he’s gone.
Thud, “You going to need me to train new air crews?”
“Soon, Thud. You, Gunner, Speedy, and NOB.”
“Roger, Spike. I’ll get to it.” He leaves.
Cooper asks, “Are we getting more staff?”
“Yes, General Eisenhower is taking care of that problem.”
“Fluffy can find them quarters. I need to get us more office space. Oh, and your breakfast is here. Eat.” A young woman brings in a huge plate of food.
Spike takes a couple of bits and picks up a document, and starts reading. Cooper pulls the piece of paper out of her hand, “If you don’t eat the doctor won’t let you fly. Eat. I promised the doc, I would put five pounds on you.”
She looks up at him and sighs, “Yes, Mama,” and picks up her fork.
CHAPTER 12
FLIGHT LINE, OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
0418, 26 September, 1942
Weber walks out on the line with Major Gunter, “So, deliver this to Oberst Ernst Meyer. He’s an officer from the future and we work together closely. We next use chaff, but not to avoid a specific missile, but to cover the whole force. The designs should be ready. With it, you may escort the transports to us. Questions?”
“May I lead the mission, Herr General?”
“Of course, you are a good and faithful officer.”
USS MISSISSIPPI BB-41, FLAGSHIP OF BATDIV-5, 180 MILES WEST OF GALWAY, IRELAND
0535, 26 September, 1942
Commodore Lewis James reads the message from Commodore Hunt, “Why does she need the makeup of our unit? Does she presume we work for her?”
Captain David Smith says, “Perhaps she does, sir. We are to report to Commander Naval Forces, United Kingdom. Is that her?”
“She calls herself Task Force Yankee.”
A petty officer walks in, “A message from CINC, sir.”
The Commodore reads it first, then hands it to the captain. He reads it and looks up, “So, we work for her, sir.”
“Indeed.”
GAWAIN FLIGHT, 30,000 FEET OVER THE RIVER TEES
0740, 26 September, 1942
Thud and Speedy hear, “Gawain, Whiskey Bravo Bravo, raid east. 36 aircraft at 300 knots, angels 25, course 280. Designate Raid 6.”
Speedy, “Whiskey Bravo Bravo, Gawain. Roger, we are coming to 085 to engage.”
Thud makes a smooth left turn and checks for Trollop and Mouse on his wing.
Speedy, “Okay, Thud, I have them. 150 miles.”
Thud accelerates to full military power, “Thirty-six is a lot. What do they look like?”
Speedy, “Fighters escorting bombers or transports. The fighters are a mix of ‘163s and ‘262s. I’m picking up search radar. They have us.”
Thud, “The ‘262s, right? The ‘163 doesn’t have radar.”
“These do. Do we focus on fighters or bombers?”
“If we chew up the fighters, the Griffins can mop of the others.”
“Okay, I have lock. Four are squirting ahead. Engaging those.”
Thud volley fires four AIM-1s.”
GUNTER’S ‘262, LEADING THE GERMAN FORMATION
Gunter on radio, “Yellow flight, parallel the group 200 meters higher and drop chaff canisters.”
The ‘163 leader asks, “Once dropped, can we engage the Americans?”
“Negative, it’s not the mission.”
The four ‘163s drop the chaff canisters. The canister’s parachutes open, releasing chaff as they drift down.
GAWAIN 1
Speedy, “They’re dropping chaff and pulling back. I think they’re diving to stay behind the chaff.”
“Do we still have lock?”
“Trying. Shit, it’s a lot of chaff. Dude, it’s like seeing through milk. We missed.”
“Okay. G’s,” and pulls back on the stick, climbing, Trollop following. “We just need to climb over it.” They invert to see the enemy. Thud, “I see four. AIM-7s and head to head.”
Speedy, “We got lock. A little closer. They’re breaking off.”
“Where?”
“They’re heading north to rejoin the group. Dude, the whole group is being shielded with chaff.”
“Fuck. Call it in. Let’s come around behind them. If we must, we can go to guns.”
Speedy, “Yankee control, Gawain 1. The Germans are using a high volume of chaff. Closing to engage.”
Swede in Control, “Roger Gawain, continue.”
Mous
e, “Eight inbound. We have the left.”
Speedy, “Roger, Mouse.” They close at 1500 mph. Thud fires a quick burst and one of the ‘163s goes away, dropping out, as they flash by.”
Thud pulls vertical, lighting his burners, “G’s. Where are they?”
“They’re coming up, too.”
“Okay, G’s.” He rolls over the top and sees a ‘163 a couple of miles away pulling up to meet him. He selects the AIM-7 and fires. It fails to track, but the German reacts by pulling vertical in full afterburner. Thud selects an AIM-9 and gets good tone. He fires and it detonates in the right engine, causing the ‘163 to lose control and go nose down, spinning into the sea. “Where is Trollop?”
“Ten K below us.”
“Okay.” Thud inverts and dives to join his wingman. As he does, he sees a SAM launch. On radio, “Trollop, break left, break left, chaff, flares!” A second missile launches and tracks him, “Hold on.” He times his maneuver and the missile misses. “Where are we?”
“Near Newcastle. Where did the Germans go?”
“There were six north of us. The others are west, I think. Let’s circle to find them.”
Thud does a circle and the skies are clear. “Speedy, they had subsonic planes with them. Where did they go?”
“Thud, they’re landing at Ouston.” On radio, “Whiskey Bravo Bravo, Gawain 1, the Germans are landing at Ouston.” To Thud, “SAM! Break!” Thud identifies the missile and breaks east and down.
Mouse, “Speedy, there are a lot of SAMs here.”
“Gawain, Yankee actual, return for refuel and rearm.”
TARMAC, OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
General Weber stands with his hands on his hips as sixteen fighters, eight transports, and two tankers taxi into position. The cargo planes disgorge men and equipment. The tanker aircraft start pumping fuel into the German fighters. Major Gunter approaches and salutes, “I will turn around four fighters immediately for air cover. Sir, it went exactly as planned.”
“Very good, Herr Major. Keep it a defensive patrol, unless told otherwise. They’ll have to come to us.”
“Heil Hitler!”
101ST BATTALION, 1ST REGIMENT, 3RD PANZER DIVISION, LEEDS, UK
0810, 26 September, 1942
SS-Obersturmbannfuhrer Ernst Meier stands in the commander’s hatch of his Tiger H11 tank, the 125mm gun reaching far out in front of it. His whole battalion is behind him, and behind them straggles the rest of the invasion force. He smiles, “I am at the tip of the spear.”
