The meaning of ‘fast moving vapor trail’ was now immediately apparent. Something was soaring towards his position, high in the sky, but now it began to descend, like some demigod or demon swooping down. It had to be a plane on fire, he thought, raising his field glasses, and thinking he could even see the faint gleam of fire there. Some ill fated pilot was falling to his doom, but impossibly fast in the descent. Who could it be?
Then, to his utter amazement, the falling aircraft leveled off just before it would have crashed into the sea. All the men on the bridge who saw it reacted, some pointing in awe. The Admiral’s eyes narrowed as he watched. It was coming, still burning from what he could see, low and fast over the water, and the fire from its tail glowed upon the sea. That such a descent could have been corrected at the last moment like that seemed an impossible feat of flying to his mind, but now he would see more than he ever thought possible. The aircraft suddenly veered left, then right again, dancing over the water like a mad kami from hell. The pilot must have finally lost control, he thought, but the longer he looked, the more those first moments of surprise extended into shock.
The maneuvers that aircraft was making could not be accomplished by any plane he had ever known, and yet there was something about the snap of its course corrections that led his mind to conclude they were carefully controlled. And the speed… The speed!
Chapter 17
The thing in the sky flashed in at them now, coming even faster, though he could hear no sound at all. It was well ahead of the roar of its own engine noise in this final approach, at almost Mach 2, though its high altitude flight path had been sub-sonic at Mach 0.8. The missile had completed its mind boggling evasive maneuver run, intended to defeat weapons that were not even aimed at it, weapons that simply did not exist, except on the ship it had been fired from. No radars were looking for it, no SAMs taking aim, and no fast firing Gatling guns waited on the final line of defense. Akagi, the fleet flagship, and one of Japan’s most venerable carriers, was now no more than a fish in the barrel, about to be harpooned.
The P-900 carried a powerful 400 kilogram warhead, and only the Moskit-II was heavier. It was an optimized heavy HE blast-fragmentation penetrator, and it was going to strike Akagi right amidships. Even though the ship had not fully completed its 1935 refit to extend the upper flight deck all the way to the bow, Akagi did have her island installed in that work, and a slightly longer top deck than the original design. That island was on the port side of the ship, opposite the odd downward facing exhaust stack on the starboard side so that the smoke would not interfere with bridge operations.
The P-900 would strike directly on that strangely curved stack. obliterating it, and penetrating deep into the ship’s lower decks. There were hangers crowded with aircraft on both sides of that compartment, but the bulkheads would not contain the blast. The explosion was even enough to rupture the flight deck above, rendering the carrier all but inoperable when it came to flight operations. A Zero sitting in that spot on the flight deck was broken and flung up and off the carrier. The heavy black smoke billowed from the gaping hole, and the bridge crew stared, aghast.
Nagumo saw the deck and plane heave upward, felt the jarring impact, still stunned and not yet even knowing what could have possibly hit the ship. Yet he had seen it with his own eyes, and now the roar of chaos and fire was all about him. It was as if some demonic spirit had simply reached down and hammered his fist against the side of the carrier, breaking its hard metal hull and shattering all within.
The ship had six inch belt armor, a legacy of her origins as a battlecruiser, but it had been slimmed down from ten inches and lowered during her conversion to a carrier. So the missile had hit just above that hard shield, right on the vulnerable external side mounted stack. The ship had already taken some damage there in the American air raid near Pearl Harbor, but this was complete destruction. The side ventilation stack was completely gone.
The shock of that hit weighed heavily on the entire bridge crew, but they would soon learn that the entire center of the upper hanger deck was involved with fire. Had the range been shorter, those fires would have been much more severe. As it was, the missile had expended almost all its fuel before striking, and so it was the warhead, and sheer kinetic force, that did most of the damage, the explosion igniting any fuel in the planes stored in that portion of the hanger.
There were six more planes on the aft flight deck, three aloft, five that were downed in the raid on Pearl Harbor, but all the rest, some 58 aircraft, were below in the hangers. About half were fueled, but there was no ordnance installed, and that had also been a saving grace. The ship had therefore taken a severe blow, but not a fatal one. Had her decks and hangers been crowded with fully fueled and armed aircraft, she would have faced uncontrollable fires from that single hit, and shared the fate of the last carrier struck down by the mighty Kirov, the German Graf Zeppelin.
Nagumo was shaken by the sudden and unexpected attack. With Kaga already damaged in the carrier duel off Hawaii, the thunder that had struck Akagi had now effectively removed the entire 1st Carrier Division from the navy’s order of battle for months. Reacting in the heat and shock of the moment, it was soon clear that this attack had been made by a single aircraft, deliberately crashed into his carrier to achieve maximum damage. But what could it have been? How could it move as it did, with such speed? There was no plane he had ever seen that could do what he had just witnessed. It was as if Raijin, the god of thunder, had just hurled his lightning down from above.
As the next minutes passed, and damage control parties reported, it was clear that the ship was badly hurt. Now he met with Captain Kiichi Hasegawa, Air Officer Masuda Shogo, Strike Leader Mitsuo Fuchida and one of the chief planners of the operation just concluded, Minoru Genda. No man among them could explain what just happened.
“It was clearly a single plane,” said Fuchida. “I was well aft when it came, seeing to the three Zeroes we have spotted on ready alert. The impact knocked me from my feet.”
“One plane?” said Shogo. “Its speed was fantastic! Could it have been the rocket weapons we were warned about?”
“The tales told by the Prophet?” said Hasegawa. “You might just as easily tell me it was a sky demon”
“That is not far from the truth,” said Genda. “Plane, rocket, it does not matter. We have seen what it can do, how it can move and strike us with such precision.”
“It must have been piloted,” said Shogo. “No rocket fired from over the horizon could hit with such accuracy. So if it was piloted, then it must have been launched from a carrier. We must find it and destroy it at once!”
“Hiryu and Soryu are already scrambling fighters,” said Admiral Nagumo, glancing at Genda as he spoke. “We can clearly see the direction it came from. It has left that high white vapor trail in its wake.”
“That plane could have maneuvered to that heading prior to attacking us, simply to hide the real location of the ship.”
“Perhaps,” said Nagumo, but I will order a search to the north in any case. The only question I have is this. We sunk one American carrier off Hawaii. How could there be another here, this far west, without our knowing it.?”
“Nothing followed us,” said Fuchida. “I have had searches mounted to the east for the last three days.”
“But not to the north,” said Nagumo. “This enemy carrier may have been lurking there, which means the Americans may have known about this operation from the very first.”
“You are suggesting this was a deliberate ambush?” Shogo had a difficult time believing that. “All our intelligence found nothing to suggest that could be possible.”
“Nor did we know where the American carriers were,” said Nagumo. “Do you not find it strange that none were at Pearl Harbor—that they all left that place just prior to our attack?”
“Then Hiryu and Soryu will have to deal with this threat,” said Fuchida. “The 5th Carrier Division is now approaching Wake Island to support our landing o
peration there.”
Nagumo shook his head. “A third of our carriers off to the south. Kaga has limped to Kwajalein, and now we will be lucky to put that fire out and return Akagi safely to Japan.”
“Sir,” said Captain Hasegawa. “The loss of our ventilation shaft and the damage to the boilers from that attack has reduced our speed to a maximum 18 knots. You should consider transferring your flag to one of the other carriers.”
Nagumo looked at him, realizing the deep shame he must feel, and the difficulty in making such a suggestion, his ship to be gelded and sent home alone. He then looked at the others, one by one, seeing a silent accord in their eyes that Fuchida eventually vocalized.
“Hiryu and Soryu are fast, and now we must fly like the wind to find and attack this unexpected enemy. Kirishima is still with us. May I suggest that ship position itself right off our starboard side. It has good armor, and better guns to repel another attack like this. It can serve as a strong shield for Akagi while the other carriers strike out to the north to find and kill our enemy.”
“Should we recall the 5th Carrier Division?” asked Shogo.
“Two carriers should be sufficient here,” said Genda. “Leave Zuikaku and Shokaku where they are.”
“I agree,” said Nagumo. “Signal Rear Admiral Tamon of the 2nd Carrier Division. I will transfer my flag to Soryu at once. The destroyer Akigumo will come alongside Akagi to assist. Captain Hasegawa, you have fought well, and there is no shame to be laid upon your shoulders as I leave you now. Your orders are to break off here, move south to effect an eventual linkup with Carrier Division 5. You must do everything in your power to get Akagi safely back to Japan.”
“Sir,” said Fuchida. “That hit was right between the forward and ‘midships elevators. We have lost many planes on the hanger deck, and the crews have fought like demons to move as many aircraft as possible forward and aft, away from the fires. As for the pilots, they are a precious asset. It may be wise to send them along with you to the Soryu. We can always replace those planes, but the men who can fly them are a rare jewel.”
Nagumo looked first at Hasegawa, seeing him nod agreement with a bow. “Very well,” he said. “Leave Captain Hasegawa enough to get a fighter squadron into the air for self defense. If the damage can be controlled and the deck patched, he can use them to mount combat air patrols on the way home. I will transfer my flag at 11:00. Pilots selected by Fuchida and all members of the Fleet Air Planning Staff will accompany me to Soryu. Yet, as this ship is in no immediate danger of sinking, the Emperor’s portrait will remain here in the capable hands of Captain Hasegawa.”
The next hour, all was quiet. The fleet was at the highest state of readiness, and the four ships of the 18th Destroyer Division were attached to the last mobile element of the once vaunted Kido Butai. Only two destroyers remained to escort Akagi and Kirishima south. The two carriers that now made up Nagumo’s hunting party had fared very well at Pearl Harbor. Hiryu had only lost three planes, and five were lost from Soryu. So their air wings were all at full strength, given the fact that many of Kaga’s planes had landed on the other carriers before she was detached. Each of the two carriers had 62 planes, with eight or nine spares from Kaga and some even remaining in crates.
Aboard Kirov, Karpov had not followed up his first missile strike with a second P-900. Instead he waited, wanting to see the reaction in the enemy formation, and launching a diplomatic missile at Tokyo instead. He signaled that he had just initiated hostilities against the Kido Butai, giving the formation’s exact position, and stating that he had deliberately struck the carrier Akagi, Fleet Flagship, as a final warning. He knew that the Japanese had a small destroyer flotilla anchored at Urajio, Vladivostok. So he demanded that flotilla make steam by 24:00 that night, and leave the port as a sign that the Japanese Government would initiate talks on the repatriation of Siberian territories. The message also indicated that any ground troops present in the Harbor were to be embarked and returned to Japan.
This was, of course, an impossible demand from the Japanese perspective. Urajio was now their principal supply port for the Kwantung Army. The rail line from there to Harbin in Manchuria, to occupied Chita, was now the quickest overland route to move those supplies up to the Baikal front. To lose Urajio would force them to completely restructure their logistics plan, moving the bulk of supplies to Dalian, the old Port Arthur they had also won in wars of the early part of the century.
“They won’t concede such a strategic port simply because you have struck a single carrier,” said Fedorov.
“Of course not,” said Karpov. “But I now give them every warning that further attacks will follow should they fail to comply with my demands.”
“What is the point in that?” said Fedorov.
Karpov responded with a single word. “Drama.”
“This isn’t theater, Admiral.”
“Oh, but it is, Fedorov. I’m going to literally telegraph my punches here. I intend to show them just how powerless they are against us, and then the real demands will be made. I’ve just nicked their cheek with the tip of my sword, but that was only the first cut. I intend to bleed them, hobble them, humiliate them.”
Rodenko looked over, a warning in his eyes. “The two remaining carriers have now moved away and they are turning north. They appear to be splitting their battlegroup. The original target has reduced speed, and it is now moving off to the south.”
“Mister Fedorov? Your assessment?”
“No mystery here,” said Fedorov. “If he wasn’t killed in that missile strike, I believe Nagumo has just transferred his flag and sent Akagi south with orders to try and limp home. The remaining carriers should be moving at close to 30 knots soon.”
“Correct,” said Rodenko.
“And they are looking for us,” Fedorov continued. “They should turn into the wind in a few minutes, so I expect them to assume a heading of about 350. Then they’ll launch a search detail covering this entire northern arc out to at least 300 nautical miles. If my navigation plot is correct, we are now 210 nautical miles north of their position, which is just an hour’s flying time at the normal cruising speed of a D3A Val. They’ll be about twenty minutes launching and then form up before dispersing on their assigned search path. So I expect they will have planes in visual range of us in about ninety minutes. Their D5A Vals could range out to nearly 800 nautical miles, and the Kate torpedo bombers close to 1100. Those planes are likely to be used in the search, and they will be armed.”
“Fair game then,” said Karpov. “It won’t be like Volsky’s equivocation over taking down an unarmed search plane. Then again, with me it would never be like that. How many planes do those ships carry, Fedorov?”
“Over 60 aircraft each. That’s a good chunk of our SAM inventory.”
“Indeed,” said Karpov. “Mister Samsonov, let us show them the futility of what they are now attempting to do. Mister Rodenko will closely track all those search planes, and we will take out any who come anywhere close to a sighting position on this vessel. Ready one silo of our S-300 SAMs.”
“Aye sir. Activating missiles 63 thru 61. Missile 64 has already been fired.”
Karpov moved to the radar screen, watching over Rodenko’s shoulder for some time. Fedorov’s prediction was right on. They could soon clearly see the planes dispersing into a wide search pattern that would cover everything through a 180 degree arc north of the carriers.
“Those three planes there,” said Karpov. “Feed targeting data to Samsonov.”
Rodenko tapped the three contacts on his screen, then pressed a button to feed the data to the CIC. In a matter of seconds, they were on Samsonov’s board as red targets, and he quickly assigned the three S-300s he had readied.
“You realize shooting those planes down will clearly reveal our position,” said Fedorov. “They’ll know exactly where our jab hit them, and the missing teeth will tell them where we are—that and the contrails of those S-300s.”
“Yet you just said tho
se planes would be armed,” said Karpov. “So they will be treated as the threats they are, and destroyed. Mister Samsonov. Fire on designated targets.”
“Aye sir.”
Chapter 18
The warning claxon, the snap of the hatch opening, the hiss of the first missile out of the underdeck silo—it was all par for the course they had been on these many long months. And sure as the moon would rise later that night, those three planes were going to die. Karpov watched the blistering speed of his missile tracks to the targets, one by one. When it was over he lingered, noting the reaction time of his enemy. It was as if they were fighting a modern carrier battlegroup that was moving in slow motion. The lightning fast reflexes of the Russian ship were now further amplified by the plodding, groping slowness of the enemy.
“Give them another twenty minutes, and you will see their strike wave forming up,” said Fedorov.
As before, he was correct.
Rodenko notified Karpov that the first of the enemy planes were now starting to emerge from the contact blips of the carriers. This now presented one more decision.
“Am I correct in assuming the decks of those ships will be full of strike planes, with more in the hangers below, all armed and fueled?”
“That is very likely.” Fedorov knew exactly where this was going.
“Then those carriers are now at their moment of maximum vulnerability. A pair of SSMs will do the work that a hundred SAMs might have to do in another ten or fifteen minutes. This is not a matter for further deliberation. I’ve been watching to see how they operate, and now the theater is over. Mister Nikolin. Send coded message three. Mister Samsonov. Range to primary targets?”
Tide Of Fortune (Kirov Series Book 20) Page 15
