Ride of the Valkyries

by Stuart Slade

  "Third group, three hits!" Kurita saw the six destroyers fire again, three ships taking each of the missiles that had penetrated the screen. Both Sagarikas vanished as the missiles hit home. Across the bridge, the warfare officer ticked his pad. "Sir, that makes 24 missiles fired, two malfunctioned, 12 hit. And, Sir, several of the misses were only because their target had been destroyed already."

  "Very Good. Very Good. Order the destroyers to reload." Kurita was thoughtful for a second. "We must make a note, we did this wrong. We should have held our fire for later, at shorter range, given the enemy less time to respond. And allowed us to follow up more quickly. Still, at least this way we have time to reload our Nodachi launchers."

  "We need time Sir, between firing the long-range missiles and finishing up the enemy. Time to let the initial radiation and fallout subside, allow time for us to decontaminate and avoid poisoning ourselves."

  "Yes, when firing nuclear weapons. But today we did not. And we should have held our fire."

  INS Mysore, Flagship, First Division, The Flying Squadron, Dawn, South China Sea.

  "They got them, Sir, all of them." Weaps' voice was crestfallen, almost ashamed. "All twelve, just blotted them out."

  Admiral Kanali Dahm sighed. "We did it wrong, we should have held our fire. Somehow I do not think these long range missiles are quite all that their designers promised." That was the truth, with one Indian ship literally blown out of the water and his flagship lightly damaged, Dahm had to concede the first blood had been scored by the Chipanese. "How long to close quarters action?"

  There was a split second delay. "Just over an hour Sir. We'll be in Jabiru and Ikara range then."

  "Very well. Order the Ghurka and Ghauri to load Jabirus 1s ready for surface-to-surface fire, the two remaining frigates to load Ikaras with their torpedoes set for surface targets. And we'll throw in our own four short-range Sagarikas of course. We'll give the Chimps a blast of missile fire then close the range as quickly as possible. The missile ships will keep up a sustained missile fire while they have shots in their magazines while they try and open the way for the gun destroyers to get at the cruisers with torpedoes.

  "We've got to get a short-range engagement as quickly as we can. If we hang off at long range, those two six inch cruisers out there will shoot us to pieces. At close range, it's our rapid-fire 4.5s that have the edge. As soon as the missile ships are hitting the enemy, all ships will close at maximum possible speed."

  "All missiles, Sir?"

  "All of them. We'll rely on our MOGs for anti-aircraft and anti-missile fire. Damage control, what's happening down there?"

  "Under control Sir. The fires are out, they never amounted to much anyway. We've stopped the flooding from the strained welds. A couple of the bulkheads weren't as tight as they should have been but we've dealt with that. We're dewatering the flooded areas now and sealing up. Thirty minutes and we'll be back up to scratch."

  "Well done. Once your finished, get ready for emergency work as needed. We're going to be going straight at the enemy. You won't be short of work."

  "Very good Sir." The damage control officer did not sound overjoyed at the prospects of his services being in urgent demand. In fact, although Dahm didn't know it, he was wondering if there was still time for a quick transfer to the Air Force.

  "Get the message out to the rest of the squadron, make all preparations for a full-scale action." He thought for a second. "And tell the Ship's Poisoners to be ready for casualties. A lot of casualties.

  The Admiral's Doggie noted the order, nodding grimly while he did so, then tapped his pad. "This, Sir, is going to be bloody."

  Dahm nodded. "In many ways we face the same situation Jim Ladone did back in ‘59 when he faced down Yamato and Musashi. There's an amphibious force back there, 15,000 soldiers, and we can't let them down. We can't let the Chimps through to hit them. We have to take them down out here. We don't have time to be clever or to nibble away at them. This has to be a sledgehammer job, we're going to have to do a ram raid on the Chimp fleet. Which reminds me, any Delhi underworld figures on board? We might need their skills."

  A ripple of laughter ran around the bridge. Delhi was notorious for its ram raids on expensive stores. A couple of badmashs would steal a cheap car, a Tata or a Marati, ram it through the windows of a gold or jewelry shop, grab what they could and retreat in another car driven by a confederate. They would be gone by the time the police turned up. Or so the plan went.

  "What do you plan to do, Sir?" Weaps was having to suppress his snorts of laughter. "Rob their pay office into the bargain?"

  "Not a bad idea Weaps, not bad. Only hardly worthwhile the way the Chimps pay their sailors. I just thought, if we get close enough, perhaps our dacoits from down in the engine rooms could get me a samurai sword off one of their officers. Sort of grab it as we go past?" There was another ripple of laughter, the Admiral's jokes were always funny.

  "So, we have our objectives. Order the squadron to make 28 knots, we'll open fire at 20 miles range. Weaps, work out a fire plan for the ships. Check the CBs, find out exactly which ships we're likely to be facing and target accordingly. Blast a hole through the middle of their destroyer screen. And may the Gods smile on our endeavors today. If we forget them, let us hope that they do not forget us."

  Bridge, INS Rana, First Division, The Flying Squadron, Dawn, South China Sea.

  "This, Sir, is going to be bloody." Captain Ditrapa Dasgupta's first officer was quite unconscious of the fact he was echoing the Admiral's comments an hour earlier. Dasgupta nodded, his eyes fixed on the radar repeater. The Japanese formation was now some 35,000 yards in front of them: two lines of six ships, smaller blips showing the destroyers in front of and beside the four larger echoes of the cruisers.

  The same display showed the Indian formation beginning to spread out despite the orders to hold 28 knots. Oh, everybody was obeying orders but that didn't change basic physics. The three Project 18 class destroyers were capable of ten knots more than that speed so they'd pulled slowly ahead, their extra power helping them overcome any momentary losses. The two surviving frigates could barely hold 28 knots: if their speed dropped for a second or two, they couldn't make it up so they had fallen slowly to the rear. In the middle were the Mysore and the two Project 21 class missile destroyers. They were the keys to the next stage of the game.

  Any second now, Dasgupta tapped his binoculars on the bridge rail for luck and went to the wings. Behind him the two Project 21s were plowing peacefully through the waves; even as he watched they suddenly picked up speed. He wished his Rana had those engines, the gas turbines in the Project 21s gave them terrific acceleration. Then, they seemed to lengthen and distort as they swung off course to unmask their stern rails. They held that position for a second, then they seemed to shudder and vanish as their missile launchers fired at almost zero elevation.

  The Jabirus were off on their way, streaking across the sea towards the enemy destroyer line. Eight of them in all. Dasgupta heard their screams as they passed Rana on the way out. In his mind's eye he saw the launch rails elevate to vertical, the missile magazine hatches open and the next pair of Jabirus slide upwards into the arms of the launcher. The doors slammed shut, the rails dropped to horizontal and more missiles went screaming across the sea.

  Only 20 seconds elapsed between salvoes, yet the first group were already more than 2/3 of the way to their targets by the time the second group of missiles were on their way. Over the Chipanese fleet, Dasgupta saw the sky turn black with explosions as the Jabirus met the enemy defense.

  Almost at the same instant, the order came in: "All ships close on the enemy at maximum possible speed.'" The meaning of that had been made clear, get every scrap of power, every last ounce of steam pressure, every last small fraction of a revolution out of your machinery and close on the enemy fast. Dasgupta felt the vibration under his feet suddenly become almost painful as Rana, Ranjit and Rajput accelerated towards the enemy. On trials, they'd all exceede
d 38 knots. Now, they would find out if speed trials actually meant anything.

  HIJMS Aoba Flagship, South China Sea Squadron, Dawn, South China Sea

  "Missile fire Sir! Enemy formation firing missiles."

  "Bring them down!" Almost as if the launchers had been waiting for the orders, the ten Nodachi missile ships opened fire. A full salvo of ten missiles streaked out to meet the eight inbound Indian missiles. It seemed almost instant; the two waves of missiles closing so fast that no time seemed to elapse between the roar of launch and the black clouds of the explosions.

  "Eight hits! Enemy first wave of missiles gone!" That was a great success, it made the American bungling a few years earlier look amateurish in comparison. "Another wave inbound Sir, eight more! Closing fast."

  The Indians had got their punch in first and they had the initiative. They were punching with their missiles and the Japanese were defending, trying to fend off the blows. Kurita realized he'd hit a great truth in this type of missile warfare; being first was everything. As long as one side was attacking, the other had to defend and that put them at a disadvantage.

  "Four hits!" That meant four more were coming through. "And another enemy wave inbound."

  "Leave the leakers, hit the intact waves." His order was being executed even while he spoke. Leave the leakers to electronic warfare and the guns. The missile's jobs was to break up the mass attacks. Kurita felt Aoba shake under his feet as her forward 155mm guns opened up, reinforcing the 100mm guns on the destroyers, now pumping out 35 rounds a minute from each of their four guns. They weren't shooting at the missiles, they were trying to lay down a wall of fragments in the area the missiles had to fly though. They wouldn't hit the missiles, the missiles would hit the splinters of steel. Meanwhile, the EW crews would be repeating the Indian target designation pulses, the frequency and timing subtly changed so that the homing heads would steer for the wrong position.

  As Kurita watched, one of the white trails from the Indian missiles went into the sea, its passing marked by an oily explosion. Flown into the sea, probably a simple accident, but a fortunate one. Another vanished in a ball of smoke, probably fragments penetrating its rocket motor and causing it to burn up. That left two. One was clearly going astray, angling gently away from its target as the seductive electronic signals mislead its simple brain. It shot aft of the destroyer it was targeted on, the Aotaka, and exploded in her wake. The fourth and last missile shot over Aotaka, the EW crew hadn't deceived it in deflection but they had in range. The missile actually passed between their bridge and mast, exploding just a few seconds later. Fragment damage and probably casualties, but nothing more. Aotaka had evaded the missiles as deftly as a geisha avoiding the probing hands of a drunken customer.

  "Third wave, four hits! Fourth wave inbound." The intercept had happened while he had been watching the final runs of the leakers. Kurita didn't need to repeat the orders. The Nodachi launchers were already training their last remaining ready-missile on the fourth wave. The leakers were again for the point defenses to handle. Once again, a delicate electronic fan-dance mixed with the brutalism of the heavy gunfire. Once again, the explosions in mid air as inbound missiles disintegrated or an elegant swing in their white trails as they were deflected by the modified signals.

  A short, gray streak came from the target of this wave, the Agano. One of the original light cruisers that had given birth to the Kawari class, twice rebuilt now and an old ship, she'd fired a shoulder-mounted surface-to-air missile as a last defense. It failed, never came close, but Kurita saw one of the two missiles it had been aimed at streak past Agano's bows. For a second he thought the other had missed as well, the white trail of its motor vanished. For a millisecond that seemed like an age nothing happened. Then, there was a boiling mushroom of black smoke and flame from Agano. A hit, dead midships. His mind saw the scene on her now, the emergency sirens going, men running out with hoses and stretchers through the smoke and noise, through the wrecked structure, around the mangled men, seeing the flames, the ship burning at the point of impact. The Indians had drawn their first blood.

  "Fourth wave, six hits!" Two more leakers, well evidence was showing that the point defenses could handle those, even with Agano out of the fight. "Fifth wave inbound."

  That dispassionate comment was the crack of doom for the Nodachi launchers were empty. Oh, there were reload missiles available. Even now the launchers would be retracting into the decks, the crews running out, manhandling the missiles in their launch boxes from the hangars, rolling them along the deck tracks, sliding them onto the rails. But that took time. The Japanese system was built around a short, sharp engagement; a decisive battle where everything was decided with the first salvoes. This was turning into a prolonged brawl.

  Kurita watched the wave of eight missiles slashing towards his ships. Gunfire, more gunfire. It had taken down the two fourth wave leakers, now the point defenses faced a worse threat. The fifth wave was concentrated on the Fubuki, a destroyer already twisting and turning as the missile wave closed in on her. Some exploded, others were deflected, some simply missed but three did not. Two hit almost side by side, at the base of Fubuki"s funnel. The third hit right aft, the fragments of its detonation scythed through the crews working to reload the missile launchers. Other fragments peppered the hangar, cutting fuel lines and ripping through electronic circuitry. Fubuki lurched under the hammer blows, her sirens sounded the ship's screams of pain and distress as her crew boiled out to put out the fires and stem the floods.

  INS Mysore, Flagship, First Division The Flying Squadron, Dawn, South China Sea.

  It was like the siege of a castle. The walls stood and the battering ram slammed into them. The first blow did nothing, the second barely more than that. But, with each blow, the stones were a little weaker, the damage just that bit greater. One day, one final blow would be enough and the wall would come tumbling down.

  "Admiral, fifth wave of missiles got through, at least three hits, perhaps five on one of their destroyers. No defensive missiles fired, we've run them out of ammunition."

  And the walls came tumbling down, the words echoed again through Dahm's mind. The enemy were out of long-range antiaircraft missiles and the range was dropping fast, down to around 25,000 yards. Just about maximum gunnery range he thought. Wasn't the record for long range hits some German battlecruiser taking pot-shots at a British carrier back in 1940? That had been around 25,000 yards hadn‘t it. Long range for guns, short range indeed for Sagarika.

  "Hit the cruisers with the four remaining Sagarika, one at each. Then order the frigates to open fire with Ikaras on the cruiser line." Dahm looked at the score board. The two Project 21 class destroyers had stopped firing, their Jabirus gone. In exchange, three pyres of smoke could be seen on the horizon, burning ships. They hadn't paid the debt for Himgiri yet but it was a start.

  HIJMS Aoba, Flagship, South China Sea Squadron, Dawn, South China Sea

  "Report from Agano Sir. The missile hit the forward end of the superstructure, just aft of No.2 turret. Hull damage is superficial but they regret to report that No.2 turret and the forward missile fire control radars have been knocked out by splinters. The ship's armor deck has prevented more serious damage. Agano reports a fire in the area of impact, its limited and under control but it's the very devil to put out."

  Rocket fuel thought Kurita, it burned hot and contained its own oxidizers. Nothing would put it out until the original fuel was exhausted, all the crew could do would be to keep the surrounding area cool. The furnace-like rocket fuel fires would otherwise heat bulkheads to the point where they would ignite the contents of adjoining compartments by radiation.

  "Mutsuki, Sir, the Gods are looking after her. She's taken four hits. Two hit the deck right aft and skidded clear, she's got minor fragmentation damage there, no more than that. Another did the same on the bows, hit just under the flare and went right through before exploding. The one bad one was aft, into the hull, just above the screws, only it failed to e
xplode. Mutsuki reports a few injured, some dents and splinter holes, no fires, no flooding.

  "But Fubuki, she's hurt. Two missiles took her amidships, one where the aft part of the funnel enters the deck, another where the forward part joins the superstructure. The fragmentation went right through her, her machinery spaces are flooding and the whole midships area is on fire. Third missile took her right aft in the hangar. Missile fire control is gone, the hangar's shredded and the fuel lines are pouring aviation fuel into the missile fire. Captain reports she's dead in the water, listing heavily, no power and pumps running on emergency. Damage control crews are trying to establish fire and flooding perimeters, they're reinforcing bulkheads with timbers and trying to seal off the fires but it's the missile fragments, she's really torn up."

  Missile fragments. Rocket fuel. Fires, splinter damage. Almost no mention of the explosions, as if the warheads on the Australian anti-aircraft missiles were of little account. If Japanese intelligence was to be believed (and it should be, since they'd got the information from the brochures given away at arms exhibitions although why they had then stamped those sales brochures "Top Secret" was a mystery to everybody), the Jabirus had a continuous rod warhead. A thick steel bar, notched at carefully chosen-intervals was wrapped around the explosive charge. Then the warhead went off, the rod burst in a corona of fragments concentrated in a narrow doughnut around the missile and spraying outwards.

  It was supposed to slash through aircraft and break them up but it punctured bulkheads and cut wiring runs just as effectively. Worse yet, it worked with the rocket fuel fires, ensuring paths by which they could spread. The words of a song echoed in Kurita's mind. it was a stupid song form one of the spineless, brainless, cowardly Americans. One of the ones who prattled on about love and peace. ‘Fire, water, earth and air' it went, the four elements in ‘nature's circle'. Well, those four elements are crippling my destroyers. Fire from the rocket fuel, air feeding the flames, steel fragments from earth, slashing holes in bulkheads and shell plating, and water seeping in to destroy buoyancy and stability. Fire, water, earth and air. Love had nothing to do with it.