Admiral Halsey would have the Enterprise and Yorktown II , three heavy cruisers and four destroyers. He would be met by Admiral Ray Spruance out of Brisbane with Essex and Lexington II , with his cruisers and DDs in escort, and then Ziggy Sprague would come down with the newest fleet carrier Bunker Hill , and the two escort carriers Princeton and Independence . Admiral Lee would divide up his battleship squadron so that each of the three US carrier groups would have one in escort. At the same time, both Gettysburg and Vicksburg were now repaired and again escorting Marines to Efate, this time the 8th Regiment. They would boldly take up a position north of that island, barring the way between the landing site and Luganville, where the Japanese had dive bombers and Nell twin engine torpedo bombers.
Halsey was itching to get out to sea and into another fight, but Nimitz had made it very clear that he was not to do so alone. No attempt would be made to seek or engage the enemy until all three carrier groups were within easy supporting distance from one another. Their rendezvous point would be mid-way between Noumea and the Fijis, where all groups arrived on the 14th of March.
The first sighting report Hara received came in that same day from a Japanese submarine, indicating 1 carrier, two battle carriers, and two heavy cruisers. The intrepid sub Captain had it partly right. He had seen Gettysburg and Vicksburg enroute to Efate, mistaking one of the US APDs for a carrier. A US Catalina had better dope for Halsey a day later. He would learn of six Japanese carriers of various types cruising west of Funatfuti, which seemed rather far afield considering the US intelligence estimate of Japanese intentions.
“Now that can’t be right,” Halsey said to his new Captain aboard the Enterprise , Osborne Bennett Hardison, or simply “Ozzy” for short. “This report has the Japs some 600 miles east of where they should be.”
“Well,” said Hardison, “If they were where they should be, I wouldn’t want to be aboard those transports headed for Efate now. Six carriers? That’s a lot of wallop.”
“HYPO said they’re up to no good,” said Halsey. “That’s probably what spooked Nimitz. He wouldn’t let me take the gloves off until Spruance and Sprague got into position.”
Captain Hardison scratched his head. “600 miles is a good long haul. If they went that far east, then they did so for a very good reason. Could HYPO be screwed up on the target of this big Jap operation?”
“Stranger things have happened,” said Halsey.
“Maybe the pilots got it wrong,” said Hardison, but either way, Halsey had his carriers all within arm’s reach, and now he had a decision to make.
“Let’s wait and see if the intel firms up. We’ll wait here tonight and get squadrons ready for action.”
So far things had been very quiet, but eight hours later a combat report came from Gettysburg , and Halsey’s first thought was that he had waited too long. He had images of all those Japanese dive bombers descending on the 8th Marines, and with only those two brave battle carriers there to try and cover them. Yet when he looked at the message, he realized this enemy strike could not have come off the decks of six carriers.
“Why, they got hit with a dozen Vals and a handful of Nells. There was no more than seven or eight Zeros flying cover. That had to come from Luganville.”
“Then where are those six Jap flattops?”
Halsey rubbed his chin, his eyes dark beneath those big grey brows. “Come to 45 northeast. Signal all groups to follow.”
A sixth sense told him that if the Japs were that far east, then they wanted the Fijis, and he was going to head northeast to cover those islands just in case. He was looking for trouble, but with seven carriers bearing 400 planes, he would be ready for it. Even as he gave that order, the Japanese carriers were turning southeast, intending to interpose themselves between the American carriers and the troop transport convoy, which Yamamoto was taking further east towards Wallis and Funafuti Islands. That was going to set up a collision at sea, and it would all happen on the 17th of March.
* * *
“1908?” said Volsky. “I feel a very bad case of déjà vu coming on when I hear that.”
“The root of the problem lies there,” said Karpov. They were meeting aboard Kirov , now sailing about 200 nautical miles due west of Nauru. Karpov had taken Kirov well out into the Pacific, far from Truk, Rabaul, or any sea lanes that Japanese were likely to be using. Nauru was an outlier of the Marshall Islands, which were well to the north, so it was relatively isolated. There was a small Japanese garrison there, and they had built an airstrip, but they were not concerned about discovery. The Japanese might have a few seaplanes on the island, but in the unlikely event of a search directly on their heading, they would see the plane long before it ever got close to them.
“Our plan to try and cleanse this time cannot succeed.” Karpov began to summon the line of reasoning he had shared with Fedorov. “It was long odds to simply get Takami , but now look, we’ve another entire Japanese task force out there, and getting all those ships is not likely. I had to use a nuke just to survive our first encounter with them, and consider the impact that could have on this time if we fail to sink each and every ship.”
“Yes, this is certainly a complication we never expected,” said Volsky. “Can we kill them? Captain Gromyko, what do you think?”
“I got Takami , and I could have probably put that other destroyer down too—the Takao . But we didn’t engage, and for good reason. There were still a lot of other ships out there, and they all carry helicopters that can find and kill Kazan . Even if I evaded, how many more ships do they have? I only have so many missiles, and it can take a good many to kill a single ship. If you order me to engage, I will get you one or two more, but I cannot promise you I can get them all, or even find that carrier.”
“You see?” said Karpov. “And if their carrier survives, it will wreak havoc here. It could devastate the American fleet—change everything.”
“So your solution is to shift backwards and leave this task force here to do exactly that? I don’t understand.” Volsky folded his arms.
“It’s simple, Admiral,” said Karpov. “We have no real assurance that we can get all those ships, and that pretty much rips our little plan to shreds. So we can’t do what we planned here in 1943. We simply don’t have the power. Even if we did sink all those Japanese ships, what about Volkov? Yes, we have a contract out on him now, but that might not work. He’s a very clever and crafty man, and his security is very tight. How long do we wait while we run one operation after another to try and get him? But even that is irrelevant, because if we did kill him, his Orenburg Federation will still be there, and someone else will just take over. There’s simply no way we can cleanse this meridian of Orenburg. I knew this all along.”
“Then why were you so eager to sign on to this plan?” asked Volsky.
“That’s simple—to make certain our Captain Gromyko here would not do what he was sent here to do. I had no desire to get into a shooting war with Kazan .”
“So you went along only to save your own skin?”
“Correct. Then we get F-35’s in the sky, and I knew at that moment that the entire plan was doomed to fail. We can’t fix things here, but in 1908, we become all powerful.”
Volsky took a long breath. “We moved heaven and earth to go back there and get to you,” he said, just a little anger creeping into his tone. “We saved the ship, and we thought you were dead, only to find you survived to work your way into this history again. So now you are head of this Free Siberian State, and it surprises me to hear you suggest that we go back to 1908 and make certain that state never arises.”
“Anything else we do is a half measure,” said Karpov. “Yes, I’ll miss my little throne here. Being head of State is rather comfortable. At one point I decided I would do better here than I could anywhere else. I decided to stay and fight my war here too, to live or die here, come what may.”
“And now you are willing to give all that up; forsake the power you’ve worked so hard to grasp h
ere?”
“It was rather self-serving,” said Karpov. “Listen to our Mister Fedorov. He’s figured out more of this than you may care to hear. Once he warned me that we might do something, change some key event, and it would mean that the future that arises never conceives a ship like Kirov . How’s that for a nice humbling experience. Yes, I was having a good deal of fun sailing about and bullying the Japanese Navy, and I was only getting started. Now, however, that navy can shove back, and I’m not one to flirt with death. Are you?”
“So this is all just to save your skin again, this time from the Japanese.”
“Think so if you like, but realize that anything we do here is futile. It will never be enough. Understand? 1908 is the only place where we can get a real lever on these events. From there we are powerful enough to change everything. We can eliminate Mironov—Sergei Kirov. Sadly that will put Stalin back in the picture, but Stalin wins this war, as we all know. We can also get Ivan Volkov before he ever builds his Orenburg Federation, and so we solve that problem very easily. Yes, that means the Bolsheviks unite all Russia, as in the real history, and that united Russia defeats Germany. Doing this is the only way to reset the clock, and get the history back on the right track—and that history is what gives rise to Kirov .”
Volsky had to admit that this was true. From 1943, they could simply not accomplish their desired mission. From 1908, it seemed a simple affair. “Fedorov,” he said. “What is the plan?”
“We haven’t really finalized that yet sir. This meeting was the first step. It’s something we all have to agree upon and support.”
“Well how in the world would we go there? You know how risky it is to use that old control rod.”
“You mean Rod-25?” said Karpov. “Yes, I have it here aboard the ship, but it isn’t the old rod. It’s practically unused. In fact, it has only been used once, to bring this ship here from 2021. Remember, this isn’t the original Kirov , and not the old Rod-25 either.”
“So you think we can dip that rod and it will simply take this ship back to 1908?”
“I do.”
“But why? It could take us anywhere, just as it did before.”
“I don’t think so. Look, this situation needs resolution. Time has been slapped around and bent over the couch by us for long enough. If we expose ourselves in another shift, and with the intention of resolving this nightmare once and for all, then I think she’ll cooperate. 1908 is the only place where we can fix things. I know that, Fedorov knows it, and so does Mother Time. So yes, if we shift, that’s where we’ll go. I’m sure of this. Fedorov, tell him. Tell him about this Absolute Certainty.”
The Admiral looked at Fedorov again, one eyebrow raised.
“It’s a concept from Dorland’s Theory of Time,” said Fedorov. “It’s easy to see that we have all been Prime Movers in creating this history. Each one of us has thought to shoulder the blame. I thought it was all my fault, Karpov will say it was his doing, and you will think that you are to blame. In any case, we did change things, and that means we have power—real abiding power to influence events. Dorland calls us Prime Movers. If we set our minds on something, the theory says that a condition of Absolute Certainty arises. This is why Karpov believes we’ll get where we intend to go if we try a shift—to 1908. But it will take all of us together in this to create that condition of Absolute Certainty.”
“So you say if we all agree, then our combined will forces things?”
“Correct,” said Karpov.
Volsky smiled. “Unless a Japanese task force has a modern carrier with F-35 stealth fighters. Didn’t we all agree on the previous plan? What happened to your Absolute Certainty in that?”
“Interesting,” said Fedorov, looking at Karpov. “That’s a good point. We did set our minds on one goal, but now we’ve come to the conclusion that it is fruitless.”
“So the same thing could happen with this new plan,” said Volsky.
“No…” Karpov’s voice was quite firm. “The previous plan failed because I knew it was futile from the beginning. I was merely paying it lip service. In fact, I simply wanted to use Gromyko and Kazan to help me get rid of Takami . Then we got… complications.”
“Quite a confession,” said Volsky. “So you were never really on board. This is what you say now? And this is why there was no real combined intention on our part that could win through.”
“Admiral, you are very astute.”
“But now you are convinced that this new plan—1908—is the only solution.”
“Well can you think of anything else? Solve it then. You come up with a plan that gets Volkov, removes his Orenburg Federation, expels the Japanese from Vladivostok and all our other territories. And don’t forget beating the Germans in that too.”
“Alright… I admit that 1908 is a decisive year, and that from there we can have a profound effect on how the timeline moves forward.”
“I knew that the moment I first found myself there,” said Karpov. “And if we decide to go, we’ll get there. Hell, Fedorov got there all on his own, even against my direct order, and with no Kirov , and no Rod-25 at his command. He got there on a goddamned blimp! How’s that for willpower? Well, I could do the same. In fact, I could get there in seventeen little steps, if I wanted. You forget about Ilanskiy.”
“Suppose this is true,” said Volsky. “Suppose we do get there. When do we arrive? Fedorov has said we cannot go to a time where we already exist, so how could he go back there again?”
“I was only there very briefly,” said Fedorov. “I was there on June 30th, the day of the Tunguska Event, perhaps for just an hour. And I returned again, present through July 1st, and with a mission very much like the one Karpov suggests in mind. But…. I failed.”
“And you were also there on Anatoly Alexandrov , and then we were all there for those unfortunate events off Iki Island.”
“We’ve worked out the dates,” said Karpov. “I arrived on the 10th of July, 1908. To my great surprise, Fedorov contacted me by shortwave on the 17th of July.”
“Yes, the Anatoly Alexandrov shifted back on that day, and for another 48 hour period. That’s how we discovered where you were.”
“And I was there through the 25th of that month,” said Karpov, “so those dates are out for me.”
“Then when would we appear if we attempted this?” asked Volsky. “Assuming time cooperates with us as you believe.”
“We would have that window, from July 2 through the 10th,” said Fedorov. “Then the next opportunity would not occur until after we finally attempted our shift home, late July of 1908.”
“And where would Volkov and Mironov be by then? You both may think we have all the time in the world, but we could do this thing and still show up late…”
Part II
Yasawa
“ Time is everything; five minutes make the difference between victory and defeat... And in battle, something must always be left to chance; nothing is sure in a sea fight.”
— Admiral Horatio Nelson
Chapter 4
The day would start very early for the Japanese carrier forces. The order sent down to awaken the crew would go out as early as 03:00 that morning. Service crews, plane mechanics, ordnance handlers would all take their brief morning meals in the mess halls before filing into the broad open spaces of the inner hangar deck. Their work awaited them in the seeming haphazard jumble of planes—white winged Zeroes, the deep green and dull earth tones of the torpedo bombers all sitting in silent repose. There were no neat lines, but there was a method to the seeming disorder, for the planes were all carefully positioned and aligned with white painted markers on the hangar deck, and meticulously anchored in position by cables fed through eye bolts. Sometimes as little as 5 centimeters separated the upward folded wingtips on the D5-A’s from one another, and crewmen would stoop to dip beneath the wings as they moved about.
Some were fetching tools, others looking for spare parts, but they all worked together like a well
-oiled machine. The Sebichos, petty officers of the maintenance deck, barked orders, seeing that each mechanic was at his assigned plane, and with the correct tooling required for any work that plane needed before being certified for operations. They would all labor in the slowly rising heat by mid-day, but now the cool pre-dawn hours were the time to get everything ready, and it promised to be a very busy day.
In effect, all these men, over 2,400 of them spread across the various carriers, were filling orders determined the previous evening by the ship’s Air Officer and Squadron Leaders. Once given the authorization to operate by the ship’s commanding officer, lists of aircraft and assigned pilots would be sent down to the hangar deck, and the Sebichos would identify specific planes for each Chutai leader by their brightly colored tail markings.
The first action of the day was going to be a long range armed reconnaissance, flown off by one squadron of torpedo bombers to be escorted by a dozen Zeroes out to conduct a fighter sweep. Sighting reports from the previous day’s recon sorties had all been digested by the Air Officer, and now he intended to confirm the information. So only the planes assigned to this mission would be fueled and armed that morning, and it would be the first real sortie that might result in combat since the fleet had left Rabaul.
The Nakajima B6N was selected for the mission, for it had a range of slightly over 1,600 nautical miles. The Japanese had only been receiving these new planes in recent months, the replacement for their venerable B5N’s. They called the new planes the Tenzan , or “Heavenly Mountain,” but to the U.S. pilots on the other side, they were demoted to the common code handle of “Jill.” Four would go up, one heavy Shotai , where the flight leader would fly slightly above and behind the traditional trio of planes that would normally make up that formation. The Zeroes would be higher up, watching for enemy scout planes or fighters.
It was nothing more than a small probing sortie, intended to scout towards the last reported sighting made the previous day by a big seaplane out of Luganville. To make even this small mission possible, those mechanics and service crews had to be up and at their work well before dawn. Some were making last minute tune-ups on the engine of a Zero, others pulling the large drop tanks from the storage areas along the outer walls of the deck and getting them mounted on the planes. The whole scene was awash with the smell of aviation fuel, motor oil, lubricants of every kind. The ventilation fans were already at work to clear out the vapors, which could be deadly if ignited in the confined space of the hangar deck.
Ironfall (Kirov Series Book 30) Page 3
