by M. L. Maki
Forrester says, “That was nice, Lori. Thank you.”
Lori blushes, “Thank you, sir.”
WASHINGTON NAVAL YARD, SHIP PLANNING OFFICE
1000 local time, 23 JANUARY, 1942
Captain Warren stands as the Admirals walk into the conference room: Admiral King (CNO), Admiral Peterson (NAVSEA COMMAND), Admiral Klindt (NAVSEA 08), Admiral Nimitz (CINCPAC), Admiral Lewis (CINCLANT). “Sirs, thank you for coming. I’ll get right to it. In light of the new technology we have brought to the table, I have a number of recommended ship building changes.”
Admiral Peterson asks, “So, you want to cancel all the battleships in favor of carriers, right?”
Warren looks at him surprised, “No, sir. The Iowa, New Jersey, Missouri, and Wisconsin have progressed to the point that they should be completed as battleships. The other two hulls just laid should be converted to carriers, though. I am also recommending we build purpose-built supercarriers, three at a time. If we focus on Kaiser type modular design, we can build the ships more quickly. Still, if we are to complete them in time to impact the war, we must start immediately and put financial and manpower focus on the project. This could impact the big gun projects.”
Admiral King asks, “Okay, what about the battleships? Do they have a role?”
“Yes, sir. The battleships are used for shore bombardment, AAW screen, and anti-surface. I recommend more gun tubes, not less. We should complete the four Iowa class with integrated missile armament. We should also make an eight-ship class of battle cruisers.”
King asks, “Why battle cruisers? If you want guns, the battle cruiser uses an as yet untested 12-inch gun.”
“Yes, sir, but it could be mounted with double 16-inch turrets instead. It would be six guns, rather than nine, but they would use common ammunition trains and spare parts.”
Admiral Preston asks, “What about the Essex class?”
Warren replies, “We reconfigure as amphibious and anti-submarine carriers using helicopters. We will want a new class with a well deck.”
Nimitz asks, “A well deck? What are you talking about?”
Warren says, “A ship with ballast tanks that can be filled to put the rear in the water to float amphibious craft out. It’s way safer than climbing down cargo nets.”
King says, “All Lee talks about are carrier decks. How long until we can give him what he needs?”
“The carrier based on the battleship hull should be completed in about 10 to 12 months. The new carriers are about a year and a half out. We’ll be building on both coasts and making at least three at once. The slipway at Bremerton is already being configured.”
Peterson says, “Those ships are outside of 90,000 tons. You propose to launch them on slipway? That’s madness.”
“Sir, we must have the ships. No dry dock exists that can accommodate them. Building dry docks that could, would set back the program six months to a year. We will be building those dry docks, but we have to get these ships built as soon as possible. So, we must build on slipways.”
King asks, “Is that how the Vinson was built?”
“No, sir, but right now, there is no other way.”
“Have you run the numbers? Can it be done?”
“Yes, sir. There are dangers. The staff at Puget Sound have helped me a lot.”
Peterson says, “I’m all ears.”
“We will put a number of tugs tied together with a line reeved through pullies to the bow. As the ship picks up speed, they will power up to slow her down.”
Heads nod, and King says, “What about the submarines, destroyers, and cruisers?”
“We remove mount 3 and 4 from the Fletcher class and install a Mark-13 missile launcher and a CIWS. We have good blueprints, and we can retrofit the launcher to existing vessels. For the cruisers, we add vertical launchers with search and guidance radar, along with CIWS and torpedoes. As for subs, Admiral Klindt has that area. The new fleet subs will be revolutionary.”
CHAPTER 9
ADMIRAL’S OFFICE, USS CARL VINSON
1634, 25 JANUARY, 1942
Captain Johnson and Captain Holtz walk into the admiral’s office carrying several binders. Johnson says, “Admiral, we have the awards package ready for review.”
Halsey says, “Set it down so I can have a look at it.”
Halsey reads the cover sheet, then looks up, “Captain, what is a Navy Achievement Medal, and why are we giving out more than a hundred of them?”
Johnson is struck dumb, “Uh, shit, sir. I bet half the awards we are putting in for don’t exist. Hell, half the awards I wear don’t exist. I didn’t think of that, sir. We have to do something for the men. Our guys pretty much expect it. The survivors of the Stoddert need to be recognized as well. Most of them are here, or on the Fife. There are two posthumous CMH packages that need to be sent up for Commander Douglas and Lt. Commander Hubler, CO and CHENG of the Stoddert.”
Halsey leans back in his chair, “Grab some coffee, I think I need a history lesson.”
Over an hour later, the three men are eating dinner and still pouring over the paperwork. Halsey finally says, “Captain, I think we’ve got it. Let the other unit commanders know the plan. I will shoot this up for approval.”
HUNT FARM, STONE MOUNTAIN TENNESSEE
1015, 28 JANUARY, 1942
Margaret Hunt reads the letter she’s received from the office of Senator Tom Stewart.
Dear Mrs. Hunt,
At this time, Senator Tom Stewart can confirm that your granddaughter, Lieutenant Commander Samantha Leigh Hunt was among those sailors and airman, which through means unknown at this time, traveled back in time from 1990 to 1941.
She is a commissioned officer serving as commanding officer of VF-154. VF-154 is, as we understand, a combatant aircraft squadron. We were further informed that her role, besides that of officer in command, is as a pilot. The Navy informed our office that as of January 10, 1942, she has thirty-three confirmed aerial kills.
Her address is: VF154, NAV-AIR 02, Navy Department, Washington, DC. By writing to the address provided, your letters will be forwarded to whatever location she is serving.
Thank you for writing with your concerns.
Sincerely,
David Pruist
Assistant to Senator Tom Stewart
She’s sitting in the kitchen, contemplating the letter, when her husband, Leigh Robert Hunt walks in. He pours himself a cup of coffee, saying, “I fixed the fence in the north pasture.” He turns to look at his wife, “What is it, Darlin’?”
“I just got a letter from Senator Stewart’s office. It seems we do, indeed, have a granddaughter serving in the Navy.”
“Well, she hasn’t written you back. Seems her family ain’t all that important to her.”
“We don’t know that, Leigh. It said she’s a pilot fighting the Japanese. It could take Lord knows how long for her to get my letter and send a reply.”
“I suppose. So, she’s a pilot? What kinda woman would put herself in such a position? Good Lord, a proper girl would be caring for the farm and kids while her man does the fighting.”
“Your grandmother Melanie did her share of fighting in the Civil War, so you’ve said. Seems to me you’re right proud of Grandma Melanie. Now, why shouldn’t we be proud of this Hunt from the future. It says she’s shot down thirty-three Japanese planes. Seems to me that is something to be proud of.”
“Thirty-three planes? Good Lord, the Red Baron shot down eighty-nine over a whole war, and this war is just getting started. Maybe I should write her, too. We ought to be clear that she is welcome with her family.”
KNIGHT 1, 36,000 FEET AND 200 MILES EAST OF WAKE ISLAND
0600, 29 JANUARY, 1942
The ocean below is that shimmery blue only possible in the South Pacific. As Spike’s F-14 cuts through the skies, she can’t suppress a smile, “Puck, it’s awesome to be back in the air.”
“Yeah, I miss this. Since you’ve been skipper, we hardly ever get to fly.�
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“It’s not just that, we have to conserve fuel. But, I know what you mean. You know, Puck, I’m starting to forget about home.”
“You mean, 1990 home, or just America, period?”
“Puck, I remember America, it’s just, Tennessee seems so far away. It’s like the whole thing is a dream.”
“Spike, picking up blips on radar. Mostly surface, okay, we have a strike force out there.”
“Call it in, Puck.” Spike wiggles the wings of her bird to get Thud’s attention.
Puck on radio, “Gold Eagle, Knight 1. There is a surface force 380 miles west of Wake Island. I count 28 vessels, say again, two, eight vessels. Request permission to close and investigate.”
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle. You are cleared to close and investigate. Engage any flat tops identified.”
“Gold Eagle, Knight 1, acknowledged. Knight 212 roll in, loose deuce. Let’s see what we have.”
Speedy replies, “Roger, Puck. We’re right with you.” The two F-14’s invert and dive, running their engines at most economical speed, the aircraft soon break the speed of sound, exchanging altitude for speed. Closing at 900 knots, the ships soon heave into view. What were mere smudges, soon become four aircraft carriers surrounded by escorting vessels and a swarm of zero fighters.
Spike, “Puck, let’s see if we can get in and out before the zeros can be a problem.”
“Spike, I want to make a pass to be sure they are Japanese.”
“Okay, tell Speedy.”
“Speedy, Puck, weapons tight until we make a positive ID.”
“Puck, Speedy, roger, weapons tight.”
COMBAT, USS CARL VINSON, 500 MILES SOUTH OF WAKE ISLAND
Halsey says, “Captain, why are they doing a dry pass? I told them to hit the carriers.”
“Yes, sir. They’re just making sure, being cautious.”
“I don’t want cautious. I want the carriers sunk. Launch one of your alpha strikes and tell them to hit the carriers. The Japanese will pay for Pearl Harbor today.”
Johnson picks up a phone, “Launch an alpha. Anti-surface, about 700 miles north west. Tell Knight flight one, the carriers are hostile.”
KNIGHT 1, OVER JAPANESE STRIKE GROUP
As they close, more and more details appear on the four ships, the big red ball clearly visible on the flight decks. Puck says, “Well, boss, they’re Japs.”
Spike pulls back on the stick, sending her fighter climbing to a higher altitude, as ack-ack starts exploding well behind them. “Okay, Puck. We call it in, then attack.” A Zero crosses her path and she applies a little rudder, squeezing off rounds from her guns. The Zero catches fire, rolls and falls into the sea.
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle, engage the carriers. We have confirmation they are hostile.”
As they pass 28,000 feet, Puck on radio, “Gold Eagle, Knight 1, we are engaging. We confirm, four Japanese flat tops. Two are the Akagi and the Kaga. I’m not sure about the others.”
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle, hit the flat tops on the flight deck. Destroy the decks and as many aircraft as you can. We are launching support.”
“Knight 1, Knight 212, I see another group of ships just to the east of Wake.”
“Speedy, Puck, how many do you see?”
“About twenty.”
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle. Focus on the carriers. We will address the others later.”
“Acknowledge, Gold Eagle, flat tops first.”
Spike says, “Fuck, Puck. Those other ships are probably amphib’s.”
“I know, Sam. We have our marching orders.” Then on radio, “Speedy, rolling in.”
The fighters dive directly on the ships, Puck says, “I have a good lock.” Then on radio, “Fox 1. Fox 1.”
Spike pulls the trigger on two AIM-7 Sparrow missiles. They streak toward two of the carriers as more ack-ack blossoms behind the supersonic fighters. Thud, on her right, pickles off three, then both aircraft are pulling out, skimming the waves, and starting the climb back for altitude. Two Zero’s attempt to engage, but the F-14s are moving so fast, they can’t turn in time. Behind them balls of flame ignite on three of the four carriers.
As they climb out, Spike rolls her bird to the left, flying toward Wake Island. She continues to climb, passing 20, 25, then 30,000 feet as she levels off. “Puck, check those boats out with the camera. What do we have?”
“You’re right, Spike. They’re amphibious, four with escorts. I count one, no two battleships or heavy cruisers.”
Spike orients toward the amphibs, “We have to cover the Marines.”
“Puck, Speedy. What are we doing?”
“Just stay on our wing, Speedy. If we hit the transports before they finish unloading, the Marines might be able to hold the island.”
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle, mark the status of the aircraft carriers.”
“Gold Eagle, Knight 1. Three out of four are on fire. The transports are unloading troops. We have to hit them now.”
“Knight 1, Gold Eagle, acknowledge. Carry on.”
COMBAT, USS CARL VINSON
Halsey picks up a phone, “Strike, why did you just approve a divert?”
Captain Holtz answers, “Sir, we are not there. I trust my pilot’s judgement. If Spike says they need to hit the transports now, we should follow her lead.”
“Bullshit. We destroy the carriers and they lose all air support. The marines will have to wait.”
“Shall I call them back, sir?”
“No, but remind them what orders are when they return.”
KNIGHT FLIGHT CLOSING THE INVASION FLEET, WAKE ISLAND
“Puck, do we have lock?”
“Just a sec.” Then on radio, “Speedy, you take the two transports on the left. Fox 1. Fox 1.”
Spike pickles off two AIM-7s. The supersonic missiles fly straight on to the transports as they sit nearly stopped and offloading soldiers onto the waiting boats. One hits the southernmost ship and the other hits the second, just to the north. Loaded with, men, supplies, weapons, ammunition, and fuel they burst into flames. As Spike pulls out, she fires a quick burst with her guns, hitting one of the landing boats heading for the atoll.
Dozens of boats are slowly making their way to the island beaches. As they climb out, black puffs of anti-aircraft fire appear form the escort ships below. Puck says, “Well, I would say, that pissed them off.”
“Let’s see how many of the boats we can take out before they hit shore.”
“Speedy, Puck, we’re rolling back in.”
A handful of Zero’s break off their attack on the island to engage the fighters but can’t get to them.
“Puck, Speedy, we are sans AIM-7s. Switching to guns.” As they line up for the next pass, they hear F-18s from the Vinson organizing the attack on the carriers.
They line up a pass on the bobbing wooden boats, difficult targets in the clear blue waters. Quick bursts of their guns and several boats are stopped, their engines burning. A Zero pulls toward them, and Thud destroys it. Again, they make a pass on the boats, and again, can only hit a few. As Spike fires on her seventh boat, she runs out of ammo. “Shit, Puck. Our guns are dry. Maybe we can use our sonic boom to scare them.”
“Spike, we’re done. We need to get back to the ship.”
“But Puck, I could use our exhaust. Maybe I can catch one of them on fire.”
“Spike, we’re bingo fuel. It’s time to take it home. What’s with you?”
“Alright. Tell Speedy it’s time to go home.”
As they climb out and head for home on the Carl Vinson, Puck asks, “Sam, what got into you? It was personal. Like they were killing your mom.”
“Eric, my dad might be down there. They reinforced Wake, remember? I don’t know where he is.”
“Okay, Sam, I get it. We did what we could, now trust to the rest of the air wing. Trust those Marines to kick all the ass Marines always do.”
CHAPTER 10
DACHA NEAR GZHEL USSR
The command track comes to a stop
in the yard of the dacha just as the sun rises. It is a large home, no doubt built for some noble in Czarist times. Colonel General Kryukov steps out of the track and sees a scene of carnage in the yard. The guns of the Hind helicopters and the machine guns of his soldiers left bodies strewn everywhere. Captain Petrov, a Spetsnaz team leader approaches and salutes, “Comrade General it is done. If you come this way, I will show you.”
Kryukov returns the salute and silently follows. He steps over the bodies and enters the residence. They walk through an entryway and up the grand staircase to a bedroom. Lying on the bed, gasping for breath, is Stalin. Their eyes meet. “Why?”
Kryukov says, “Your fear and incompetence cost us the Motherland. In defeating the Germans, you destroyed us. We fought the Americans, the West, but in the end, it was all lost. I will restore our Motherland to its proper place of greatness.” He draws his side arm, points it at Stalin’s head, and pulls the trigger. To the captain, “Thank you. Your service to me today is greatly appreciated. It was a distasteful task performed to perfection. Gather up your men. I will have need of them later.”
SMITHSON FARM, GORST, WASHINGTON STATE
Shawn Hughes watches the dust trail of the old Ford driving away from his farm. Earlier this afternoon he’d signed the deed papers, signed the loan, and took custody of his farm. His farm. It would take some getting used to. As he watches the realtor drive away, he muses, “Well, you did it this time, Shawn. You bought the farm,” and laughs.
Across the Sinclair Inlet he can see the shipyard. The low tide has exposed a few hundred yards of mud. The realtor had made it clear that this farm was useless to the navy. But, to him, it was very useful. Oh, yes, very useful. thirty acres of overgrown blackberry bushes with a road and a rail line right there. Enough.
He opens the rickety screen door and walks into the kitchen. They’d left a table and two chairs, so he pulls out a chair, lays his brief case on the table, and sits down. He pulls out paper and a pen and starts a letter.
