Kirov III: Pacific Storm k-3

by John A. Schettler

  “We will be entering the Arafura Sea now, sir, but ahead lies the Torres Strait.”

  “Another bottleneck,” said Volsky. “Very well. Let’s get up around this cape and see if we can slip by this monster. Then it is into the Arafura Sea, and God only knows what lies ahead once we pass the Torres Strait.”

  Part IV

  Thunder Gods

  “Never had the gods of all the tribes

  put upon the seas such monsters

  as man now sends over them.

  Their steel bowels, grinding and rumbling

  below the splash of the sea,

  are fed on quarried rock.

  Their arteries are steel, their nerves copper,

  their blood red and blue flames.

  With the precedence of the supernatural

  they peer into space.

  Their voices scream through gales,

  and they whisper together over 1000 miles of sea.

  They reach out and destroy

  that which the eye of man cannot perceive.”

  ~ Homer Lea, The Valor of Ignorance

  Chapter 10

  Captain Sanji Iwabuchi was growing impatient, and impatience in a man of his disposition became a real vice in short order. Kiyota’s cruisers had been badly overmatched. The loss of Haguro stung him like a whip lash on his face, and he was quick to pass the pain along to any man near him.

  “A shameful display,” he said to his executive officer, Koro Ono. “Our forces were scattered. We had no chi in the attack. This ghost dancer appears from thin air, neh? What ship is this, Ono? Surely not an American battleship cruising alone in these waters.”

  “It must be British, sir. They are trying to reinforce the Australians. It could have come out of the Indian Ocean while we were assembling for this operation north of Timor Island, and before our submarine picket lines were deployed. It might even have reached Darwin and is only now sent fleeing from its hole to avoid being sunk by Admiral Hara’s planes.”

  “Yes, and we are supposed to be shelling that place at this very moment!” Iwabuchi’s dour face clearly indicated his displeasure.

  “Kiyota has a good name for this one,” said Ono. “Mizuchi—the ancient sea dragon. He says it took the bow off Haguro with just one bite, and engaged them at well over 30,000 yards with secondary batteries.”

  “That is nonsense!” Iwabuchi fumed. “We will see how this ship fights soon enough. In the meantime, what about Hara’s carriers? It would be best if we could coordinate a strike with this engagement. Signal him at once.”

  Ono bowed, and was off to the radio room to send a coded message. When he returned his face was set, lips tight, and he saluted before he spoke. “Sir, Admiral Hara reports that his task force is now experiencing force 7 winds with worsening conditions and severe thunder storms. He has elected not to launch another strike wave under those conditions.”

  Iwabuchi just looked at him, his jaw tightening, eyes narrowed and threatening. He had been known to kill the messenger on more than one occasion, but he composed himself, staring ahead at the relatively calm seas in front of them.

  “Ship ahead! Thirty degrees south.” The call came down from the high pagoda mast. Three bridge officers raised binoculars, and one man was already working out an estimated range.

  “About 30,000 yards,” he said and the Captain grunted.

  “Sir,” Ono continued. “Admiral Hara suggests we shadow this ship and keep contact throughout the night. Our bombardment mission to Darwin is canceled and we are herewith detached to pursue this vessel.”

  “Detached? What about the invasion?”

  “Sir, Admiral Hara still has Tone and five destroyers. And he has Mutsu and Nagato with the second wave troops coming out of Amboina and Kendari as well.”

  “Yes, I hear he haggled with Yamamoto for them, and was even trying to get his hands on Musashi!”

  “The plan has changed, Captain,” Ono continued. “The first wave troops out of Kupang are also experiencing high seas. They will be delayed enough by this weather to make a rendezvous with the second wave troops more feasible. Hara now plans to land both waves at once, and use the ships he has for cover. We are detached to pursue this British battleship, but the Admiral plans to operate his carriers well east of Darwin tomorrow morning, where he can support both the landings there and our action in the Arafura Sea.”

  “Then we are to chase this Mizuchi and hold on to his tail,” said Iwabuchi. “So be it.” He looked darkly at the bridge crew. “Range to target?”

  “Sir, we estimate 28,000 yards, but they are turning to Starboard now, running just north of that cape. The range is opening. They appear to be very fast.”

  Iwabuchi raised his field glasses, eyes puckered, and finally saw the distant enemy ship himself. Hara was probably correct not to launch now, he thought. It would be another hour before the planes got here, and then he would be faced with a recovery operation in high seas and gale force winds. All the better for me, he realized.

  “So this ship is fast,” he said. “Then it is not one of their old fat battleships. It must be a battlecruiser—most likely the Renown. Or perhaps even one of their newest ships.”

  “We still have Nachi and Myoko, sir,” said Ono. “They have taken five or six light caliber hits each, but only one gun has been put out of action on Myoko, and there is no flooding or damage to the engines on either ship. We have the speed to keep this ship in sight, sir, and we can run all night before the wind.”

  Iwabuchi liked the sound of that, and allowed himself a taut smile. “Gunnery officer!” Commander Kimitake Koshino was quickly at his side, bowing respectfully. “Fire at that ship. Both forward batteries. We will let them know we are coming.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The first salvo came in short by over 1000 meters, and well off their port quarter, but Volsky noted how tight the splash pattern was, and the odd blue color of the water when the shells landed.

  “That was typical of Japanese naval gunnery,” said Fedorov. “Their salvos will space no more than a hundred yards at times. It made for a lot of near misses, and fewer hits, but when they did find the target they could often score multiple hits at one time with a shell fall pattern that tight. That blue you see in the water splashes is dye, sir. The Kongo class battleships each used a different color dye so their spotters could distinguish which water splashes were from their own guns, Kongo used red dye, Hiei black, and Kirishima used blue dye.”

  “Then they are not radar controlled?”

  “No sir, but the Japanese had superb optics, and were excellent night fighters as well. They can put rounds on a target at long range, though there are no recorded hits in history beyond 26,000 yards or so. That said, I suggest we maneuver a bit to make it just a little more difficult for them to find the range.”

  “What is the caliber of the guns?”

  “14 inches, sir. Most likely Type 91 armor piercing rounds.”

  “Not something we wish to experience firsthand,” said Volsky. “I have no desire to be painted blue and smashed by a 14 inch wide hunk of steel! We are making thirty-two knots?”

  “Yes, sir. But Byko is complaining. That bomb hit we took aft was very near some of the hull damage we sustained in the Med.”

  “Yes we have had our backside kicked more than once: the misfired Klinok, the helicopter incident, and those near misses the British sent our way. Now a bomb hit there. What does Byko say about it?”

  “The hull is breeched sir, but well above the water line. We were spared serious damage due to the angle of the bomb, slightly off vertical, and it nearly missed us. It struck very near the outer gunwale before it penetrated two decks and blew out a three meter hole in the hull from the inside. It was also aft of our armor belt, sir. Most of the explosion was directed outward, away from the ship. He is doing his best to seal off the area and reinforce that sector with some metal work now. But remember the engines, sir. We had a vibration on the right turbine in the Med and there was some
flooding there earlier. Byko says he has it well in hand, but it will remain a weak point to watch closely, particularly if we are running at full battle speed like this.”

  “An Achilles heel…” Volsky folded his arms. “Very well, Mister Fedorov. You may maneuver the ship.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Karpov. “Shall I return fire with the aft deck gun?”

  Volsky looked at him, blinking. “No. I think we will remain silent. He is just shaking his fist at us, Mister Karpov. Hitting him with a 152 millimeter round or two is only likely to enrage the man, and steel his determination. Are we opening the range, Rodenko?”

  “Yes, sir. Over 30,000 yards now with our turn east.”

  There was no further fire from the pursuing ships, but Rodenko noted that two smaller signal returns were moving slightly ahead of the battleship now, and creeping up on them.

  “Those must be the cruisers we fought off earlier,” said Fedorov.

  “I make the speed at 34 knots at the moment,” said Rodenko.

  Fedorov did a quick mental calculation. “With a two knot speed advantage they will only gain 3,700 meters on us per hour. That would put them at the maximum range of their guns an hour from now. The sun is behind that storm front, and we are losing light rapidly. Given that they must sight us optically, they probably won’t fire until they get closer. I think we have two hours before we should be worried about them.”

  Volsky was satisfied. “Then unless that battleship persists in lobbing shells at us, we will rely on our speed for the moment. I am going below to speak with Dr. Zolkin about the casualties. Mister Karpov, if that battleship puts rounds close enough to pose a threat, slap his face. Use one MOS-III, not the deck guns, and hit his superstructure. He has fired and thrown down his gauntlet. I have heard his complaint, and I have not answered, but I will not be goaded indefinitely.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Mizuchi slipped away, slowly sliding beneath the far horizon insofar as the battleship was concerned, though Kirishima was still pressing hard at 30 knots. Iwabuchi ordered the two cruisers to use their superior speed and advance close enough to keep the ship in visual range, but not so close as to provoke another engagement. The lesson learned earlier had been a hard one. To attempt to close on this sea dragon now would mean a slow, plodding gain, possibly under fire for hours before they could come into effective range.

  The Captain was ill tempered, pacing the bridge at times, short with the men and in a very sour mood. When it became clear that they could do little more now, he finally relented and turned the bridge over to his executive officer Ono, going below for food and rest.

  When the surly Captain had gone, Ono breathed a bit easier. He turned to Lt. Commander Ikeda, in charge of the ship’s secondary batteries with a knowing look. “It appears we have a situation here,” he said discretely.

  Ikeda raised an eyebrow. “With the mood the Captain is in this could become something much more,” he said in a low voice. “Vendetta would be a better word. Iwabuchi will not take the loss of Haguro lightly. In fact I think he will take it very personally.”

  “This enemy ship is fast! It has already slipped over the horizon.”

  “The cruisers will keep hold of her, and we will get a seaplane up at first light again.”

  “What do you make of this, Ikeda?”

  “Something slipped in the planning, what else? The British had a ship at Darwin, and it is running for friendly ports on their east coast.”

  “Most likely,” said Ono. “I believe there is a new squadron assigned to our airfield at Port Moresby, a group of G3M Rikko bombers. Perhaps we should notify them that this ship appears to be heading for the Torres Strait.”

  “They won’t be able to hit a ship with this speed. That’s work for a carrier.”

  “Initial reports were that a hit was scored when the ship was first spotted, but we have heard nothing since.”

  “It will take a more concentrated strike by Hara’s carriers tomorrow,” Ikeda agreed. “Hara will get the job done. Either that or he can slow this one down enough for us to catch him.”

  “Yes, old King Kong is coming east right behind us. But something tells me that this enemy ship is going to cause real trouble. It may be running now, but did you hear the report from Kiyota? He says they were taking small caliber hits at 30,000 yards!”

  “He must have been mistaken,” Ikeda said politely. “I know secondary batteries and they can’t range much beyond 15,000 to 20,000 yards.”

  “Yet I saw the damage when Nachi and Myoko joined us,” said Ono. “Those were not large caliber hits. They would have crushed those ships if they were from 14 inch guns like our main batteries.”

  “They must have misjudged the range.”

  “I’m not so sure, Ikeda. Captain Kiyota aboard Nachi is a skilled sea captain. He was working to get into torpedo range and we both know he could have fired with his Type 93s if he was inside typical secondary gun range. This ship could be something we’ve never seen—a new ship, with all new guns.”

  “What was Kiyota talking about with this nonsense about Raiju? He said Haguro was hit by something new, fast as lightning, and with deadly accuracy and power.”

  “It was most likely a large caliber shell from their main batteries,” said Ono. “What else could do such damage? The ship’s bow was practically ripped apart with that hit. A lucky shot, neh? Kiyota’s cruisers are good in a hunt, but no match for an enemy battleship. We were wise to order him to break off and rejoin us.”

  “Yes, and I fear Iwabuchi will not rest until he brings this ship to battle.”

  “Agreed,” Ono shrugged. “Get some rest, Lieutenant. Something tells me we’re going to be very busy the next few days, that is if these old engines can keep us in the hunt. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Chapter 11

  All that night Hara’s Kido Butai carrier force ran east, skirting the northern coast of Melville Island where Charlie One and Strangler had seen the action involving Kirov. But by now the two Aborigine scouts were far to the south, well away from the thickening squads of Japanese naval infantry from the Kure 26th SNLF that were now landing on the island in force.

  In the pre-dawn hours of August 26, 1942 the planned invasion of Port Darwin was well underway. The heavy Bombardment Group centered on the two big battleships Admiral Hara had wrangled away from Yamamoto were now pounding the coastal shore batteries and inland positions where remnants of a small Australian defense force that had been evacuated from Port Moresby now held forth. Mutsu and Nagato fired salvo after salvo, their big 16 inch guns blasting the shore and sending huge columns of smoke into the grey dawn. Closer in, the light cruiser Tama and destroyers Onami, Kiyonami, and Okinami used their smaller guns to good effect as well.

  Just before sunrise, the transport fleet began to disembark wave after wave of troops from the 21st Infantry Regiment, the Shimada Regiment from Yamashita’s 5th Division, the very same tigers that had so baffled the British forces defending in Malaya. It was all he would need. The Darwin garrison was no more than battalion strength, and would be overcome by persistent Japanese attacks within a few days.

  Hara was so pleased with the work done by his battleship bombardment force, that he canceled a planned second air strike on Darwin and thought instead of his pursuit force further east. He turned to E-I flight leader Masafumi Arima aboard Shokaku where he set his flag, and asked for an update.

  “Where is Iwabuchi and the pursuit force?”

  “Sir? About 250 miles northeast of our position. The cruisers managed to shadow this enemy ship all night, but Kirishima slowly fell behind, even running at her very best speed, sir. The British have edged away, but Captain Kiyota aboard Nachi now reports Iwabuchi is just over twenty miles behind in the chase.”

  “Amazing,” said Hara. “For that old battleship to stay so close at high speed like that is quite a feat. We must now think about slowing this British ship down, even if we have to di
sappoint Iwabuchi by sinking it. Prepare a major air strike this time. Sakamoto should have never sent only 9 planes with incendiaries yesterday, and I was equally remiss by sending only twelve torpedo bombers off Zuiho.”

  That had been the one thing to darken Hara’s mood the previous day, for no report was ever received back from Matsua’s B5N2s. They waited well into the night, with Zuiho bravely running ahead of the storm to make for a safer recovery operation, but not a single plane returned. Now they were all presumed lost, the whole of Zuiho’s strike element. All she had left was Hidaka’s twelve A6M2 fighters and Hayashi with his sole surviving dive bomber, the hapless leader of that first ill-fated strike on this enemy ship. Hara had been taught a strong lesson. He would not repeat the mistake. This time he would use his more experienced pilots off the two fleet carriers, with the correct ordinance, and this time he would strike in force.

  “Twenty planes gone,” he muttered. “At least we managed to fish half the pilots out of the sea. The Navy can give us more planes easily enough, but finding skilled men to fly them is another matter. Well, Captain, spot a good mixed strike wave this time. Use our squadrons as well as anything you need from Zuikaku. I want to avenge the men and planes we so foolishly lost yesterday. Let us attack this ship properly today, and put it on the bottom of the Arafura Sea.”

  “Aye, sir! Seaplanes from Iwabuchi’s ship and the cruisers will have a good fix on the target. Who should I task to lead this attack, sir?”

  “Sakamoto, who else? Let him use all of Ema’s dive bombers, and Yamaguchi’s as well. Assign Ichihara from our torpedo bombers, and Subota from Zuikaku—9 planes each. I do not think we will need many escort fighters, but send one squadron. Use Zuiho’s planes for top cover escort. We’ll keep our fighters for Combat Air Patrol over the fleet. I want a good coordinated strike.” He held up a finger, admonishing.

  “Very good, sir. Sakamoto will handle the matter this time.”