Steel Reign (Kirov Series Book 23)

by John Schettler

  The previous night, Combined Fleet had doubled down on the order that sent cruisers into that channel on Showa day. With the carriers at hand, Ugaki deemed the risk acceptable this time and ordered two small surface action groups to sweep those same waters south of the islands. The first was composed of heavy cruisers Haguro and Myoko, and the 15th Destroyer Division with Kuroshio, Oyashio, Hayashio, and Natsushio. It was entering the Kandavu channel between Viti Levu and the Kandavu island, the most direct passage to Suva and the big Allied airfield at Nausori at the southeast corner of the island. That was the objective for Captain Sakiyama on the Haguro, to take his cruisers in and put that airfield out of action by bombardment. Yet like Captain Mori’s ill fated sortie a few days earlier, he would never get there.

  A patrol of two SBDs off the Enterprise spotted the enemy cruisers heading east into the channel, and Halsey immediately went after them. 36 Wildcats accompanied the initial strike, which was made by 44 SBDs and 14 TBDs, a heavy blow that encountered no more than 9 A5M Claudes off the airfield at Nandi. The nimble fighters had to dodge craters to get airborne, but they managed it, only to get into a hail storm of F4F Wildcats. Seven were shot down, and the strike wave blew right on through to hit those cruisers.

  When they were done destroyer Oyashio had taken a direct hit, with heavy fires amidships, Myoko was struck once, a near miss that mostly hit the ship’s belt armor, but the heavy cruiser Haguro got smashed. The Dauntless pilots put no less than six bombs on the cruiser, riddling it with concussion and fire. The coup de grace was a single torpedo hit that would end the ship’s misery. Haguro had once been fated to be the last major Japanese warship attacked and sunk in the war, but not this time around.

  Two hours later a second strike arrived overhead with 24 SBDs and 8 TBDs off the Wasp. They found only one cruiser remaining, put a bomb on Myoko, and sunk a pair of destroyers, Hayashio and Natsushio. It was only the weather that prevented Halsey from destroying this entire group, for heavy thunderstorms popped up in the late afternoon, and the planes were called home.

  That afternoon, Hara’s carriers and most of the Vals off the Nagumo group pounded Allied ground positions on the main island, but did little real harm. There were now 40 Aircobras ready at Suva, joined by over 36 Wildcats that had been flown in from Pago Pago, more than enough to put up a substantial air cover over that island. The battle for Fiji was now beginning in earnest, and Bull Halsey was determined to hold the line. He had taken one punch, and given the enemy a bloody nose in return, but the worst of this fight was yet to come.

  Chapter 26

  Displeased with these results Yamamoto summoned Nagumo, to Fleet HQ aboard Yamato to discuss the situation. Nagumo bowed deeply, an apologetic expression on his face, but Yamamoto did not summon him to berate him. Nothing was said of the loss of Haguro, for this time it was Ugaki who had ordered those ships in. Yet Nagumo knew that silence was weighty, and he could hear the displeasure when Yamamoto finally spoke.

  “Given that your orders were to strike the enemy ground facilities,” he said. “I can see why your dive bombers were not ready for anti-ship operations. Now that the enemy carriers have been discovered south of the islands, we must make them our primary targets. They apparently sought to avoid a direct clash with us here, but we must engage them. It is most unfortunate that the use of our B5N Torpedo bombers to make a long range attack as level bombers leaves us very few for these more important naval operations.”

  Silence. Nagumo nodded slowly, understanding that Yamamoto was now expressing his real concern in the matter. Before he could think what to say, the Fleet Admiral simply asked him another question. “Given this situation, how do you propose to operate?”

  “I considered moving east and then south,” said Nagumo, “following the route the Americans must have taken and cutting their line of communications back to Samoa. Now, with our cruiser group retiring to Noumea, I think it best to move counterclockwise around these islands, and swing down toward Nandi.”

  “Agreed,” said Yamamoto. “We must also not forget the transports carrying the Tanaka Regiment and headquarters and artillery for the 48th Division. A move in that direction would put us between the enemy carriers and those transports, allowing us to cover their approach.”

  “Under the circumstances,” said Nagumo. “The transports should be held near Noumea with the fleet oilers until we settle affairs with these enemy carriers.”

  “That would also be a wise precaution. Very well, Admiral, we move as you suggest tonight, and should be steaming off Nandi Bay in the pre-dawn hours tomorrow. The enemy carriers are now our first priority. No further strikes against ground targets should be planned until they are dealt with.”

  That was what the Admiral had summoned him here to convey, Nagumo knew, and the burn of shame was on his neck, in spite of the subtle and diplomatic way in which the Fleet Commander had conducted this meeting, allowing him to lay out his plans before making that last final remark, almost as if it were an afterthought. But he knew what Yamamoto was really saying—get it right this time, reserve the torpedo planes for the enemy carriers, and cease fruitless bombing runs against ground targets. He berated himself inwardly, while outwardly, his face remained set in stone.

  Search operations from the carriers should have detected the enemy move south, he thought. The fleet needed to be ready for any contingency… But that airfield at Suva must be hit again before we leave, and very hard this time.

  It occurred to Nagumo that he possessed just the tool necessary to accomplish this task. Two groups built around heavy cruisers had attempted to run the Kandavu Strait, and each time they had been intercepted by American carriers lying in wait. This time the attack would be well timed, and it would be conducted by the fast battlecruisers Kongo and Kirishima. A night raid would be necessary, minimizing the possibility of both discovery in the strait on approach, or any effective enemy reprisal by air. And come dawn, when the bombardment group was withdrawing, his carriers had to be ready to provide the necessary cover.

  We cannot be here indefinitely, thought Nagumo. Each mission we fly finds empty chairs in the briefing room. As skilled and determined as we are, attrition in war is inevitable. It kills planes, and the pilots in them, and it sinks ships.

  He looked at the charts compiled by staff officers. Akagi had no more than 51 planes ready for operations. There were 45 on Soryu, and another 53 on Zuikaku. The two light carriers mustered a combined total of 40 planes. So the Kido Butai now had a total of 189 planes available. At Pearl Harbor we had twice that number, he thought. We have not yet fully engaged the remaining American carriers. Yes, many of the men off Shokaku made it safely to Noumea. Several of those Chutai have been moved to the New Hebrides airfields, and they can transfer to the carriers as needed. Before we leave here, I must make certain the American carriers can no longer pose any serious threat to our continued operations.

  That was what Yamamoto seemed to press upon him—get the enemy’s mobile striking power. Their fixed base assets could come later, and perhaps the Army could solve that problem in the long run. Yet bringing the enemy to heel would prove more difficult than he thought. The Fiji Island group was a vast area, with the main island surrounded by hundreds of small islets and coral reefs everywhere. When Nagumo moved south to get into position to strike the last reported position of the enemy, his reconnaissance planes soon reported that the Americans had swung north again, cleverly placing the main islands between their position and the Kido Butai. The two sides seemed to be circling those islands like two Samurai warriors, swords ready and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

  Two days passed with little more than sniping between long range CAP patrols on either side. Frustrated, Nagumo moved north again to the 12:00 position on the clock face, with the Americans last reported at 03:00. It was then that his enemy would do something most unexpected, and it would set the scene for all that would follow.

  * * *

  “God damnit!” Hal
sey was clearly not happy. “Here we just get into position to take these bastards on, and look at this!” He handed Enterprise Captain Murray the latest signal from Pearl. Nimitz had his spoon in the soup again.

  Murray took the message, reading it aloud: “Given latest intelligence of enemy carriers moving east, imperative you cover underway operations embarking 112th Base Force from Pago Pago to Savuii Island in Samoa Group. Do not engage enemy carrier group and withdraw east at earliest opportunity.” He looked up at Halsey, who was still venting steam, arms crossed on his barrel chest, eyes dark with his displeasure.

  “They’ll pound that airfield at Suva all day if we pull out now,” said Halsey. “Damnit, if Nimitz wanted to run this operation, then why didn’t he take the Con himself out here?” He fretted, scratching a reddish rash on his arm and elbow.

  “You read The Fleet OP PLAN order from Admiral King,” said Murray. He could recite it almost verbatim now: “Inflict maximum damage on enemy by employing strong attrition tactics. But do not accept such decisive action as would be likely to incur heavy losses in our carriers and cruisers.”

  “Well we can’t beat them if we don’t fight them,” said Halsey. “Alright, I’m ordered to cover that silly transport operation, and so that’s what I’ll tell Fletcher to do.” Halsey had found his only way out of the corner.

  “Fletcher?”

  “He’s senior to Reeves on the Wasp, so I put him back in the saddle with Taffy-18. He can take Wasp and Shiloh east and screen that damn sealift operation, but by God, I’m going to keep my fighters in range of Suva, come hell or high water.”

  “Well we might just end up getting both,” Captain Murray warned. “You’re going to split up the Task Group and then wait here for the whole enemy force to come at us? That last sighting report had them coming due east. It looks like they mean business.”

  “Well I mean business too,” said Halsey with a scowl, “but we won’t stand here with our chin out. We’ll do the same thing we pulled two days ago, and swing south. They had to pull most of the Wildcats off Suva and post them to isolated bases when those Jap battleships made a run at the place. Now they’ve nothing more than those obsolete Army Aircobras. Hell, they even moved the PBYs back to Pago Pago. That’s where we’ll be fighting this battle next if we don’t stop them here. So we swing south, but stay in range of Suva so I can cover the field with a few Wildcats.”

  “And what if they hit us with everything they have? We could lose both Enterprise and Hornet, and that would leave the Fletcher Group the only flat top we have worth mentioning.”

  “That’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  “A risk you’ll have to take… Aw, hell, I didn’t mean it that way. Admiral, sir, my men will back you 110% out here, but I just hope to God you know what you’re doing.”

  Halsey gave him just the hint of a smile. “Funny you should mention that,” he said, “because He and I were discussing this situation just last night, and the lord on high tells me he has our back this time. Come about, Captain. Give me 180 South and ahead full. You get the flags up for Mitscher with this, and I’m off to send Fletcher his marching orders east. He’s about to comply with Fleet Order 140, Fifth of May, 1942. I have business elsewhere.”

  Halsey was dividing his force in the face of the enemy attack. One day historians might squint and say he was brash, and acted stupidly, but not today, not on the 5th of May, 1942. Most of the men who would analyze and second guess the fighting Admiral were still waiting to be born.

  The Battle of the Koro Sea – 5 MAY, 1942

  They came out of the north, flying right through tall rising columns of thunder storms to get there. The weather had been so bad in the pre-dawn hours of May 5th that Halsey only had four Wildcats off each of his two carriers up on patrol, and all they could think of was getting out of that turbulence and seeing if they could land in that mess. Heavy seas move a flight deck around quite a bit. You could time a wave set better for takeoff, and even use that to good advantage when the bow would fall away and help a plane get airborne, but landing was a hazardous affair. That deck could suddenly swing up when you didn’t expect it , and smack your plane right in the belly.

  The Japanese were up in spite of the storm, and out to bring a little thunder and lightning to their enemy. Nagumo’s search planes had seen the American fleet late the previous day. Yet morning searches noted one group heading east, another bearing south. Nagumo considered that the withdrawing unit might be no more than bait, and resolved to strike south, keeping his carriers close to the Fijis.

  It was a very good guess, and Admiral Hara’s 5th Carrier Division led the way, with Zuikaku, and light carriers Zuiho and Shoho. They would open the action with 21 B5N torpedo planes led by Lt. Yoshiaki Subota, the cream of what was left in the fleet for that plane type after Nagumo’s disastrous use of the torpedo bombers to conduct that long range strike earlier. Another two Chutai of D3A Dive Bombers was led by Lt. Tamatsu Ema, the heavyset bearded wonder of the dive bomber squadrons. His plane was clearly evident in the lead, its scarlet tail impossible to miss. His second Chutai was one plane light, but its Chutachio, Lieutenant Hayashi, Had boasted he would make up for the missing plane personally.

  The men were in high spirits that morning, in spite of the weather, and the gloom that had enfolded Hayashi the last few days dissipated now that the adrenaline of battle was flowing in his blood again. Thos odd dreams of rockets in the sky no longer bothered him. It was only lightning now, and the occasional rumble of thunder, which seemed to set the scene for him perfectly. They were the Thunder Gods now, he thought. They were out to avenge the loss of their sister ship, Soaring Crane.

  In spite of the bad weather, the raid was detected on radar about 77 miles out, some 30 minutes before they would get over Halsey’s carriers. Even with that lavish grace period, Enterprise got no more than three additional Wildcats up to join the CAP patrol, three planes off Hornet also scrambled, and more were being spotted, but that group would fly off in the wrong direction and fail to find the Japanese when they bored in on Halsey’s position.

  The Big E was well out in front, and actually entering a squall line when the strike came in, which left Hornet and her closest escort, the cruiser San Francisco, as the most visible targets. The D3As came in first, with orders to strike the closest escorts to give Ema’s torpedo bombers the best chance to put their thunderfish to work. Hayashi would prove true to his word and draw first blood when he put a 250 KG bomb on San Francisco, right behind the aft stack. Not to be outdone, Ema came in right after him and scored yet another hit amidships, starting heavy fires there. Now the way was clear for Subota, as San Francisco had to fall out of it screening position for the carrier when the ship lost power and slowed to 20 knots.

  Subota would lose only two BN5s on the run in, with two more damaged by flak and forced to abort, but the other 17 would all make the attack over those wild seas. The torpedoes, however, had a very rough run into the target, many lost and diverted from their intended course in the batting waves. One would run true and get a torpedo hit on the Hornet that penetrated the belt armor and caused significant damage just aft of the island. The high white wash of seawater clearly marked the hit, and Hayashi could see it as he looked over his shoulder after recovering from his dive through a hail of flak. The Thunder Gods had announced their presence, and he clenched his fist, eager to get back to Zuikaku and rearm for a second strike.

  But fate had other plans for him that day, and they were now churning in the mind of a self proclaimed Fighting Fool, Admiral Bull Halsey. When he got the news, Halsey scratched his neck, where a bright red rash was plaguing him again that morning.

  “Is Hornet still underway?”

  “Yes sir, her speed is good and the flight deck looks clear.”

  “Good, thank God we got our boys up before this squall line hit us. They ought to be getting close to the other fellow by now. Why haven’t we heard anything?”

  It was a special agony there
in the close confines of the main bridge, one eye on the mission board where he was taking in the names of the men he had just set out into that storm, and one ear on the overhead intercom, listening for any sound that could tell him what they were doing. The ceiling above him was a morass of grey cables, all hooking in to some piece of equipment or another, and then snaking off in thick bundles to vanish into the grey guts of the ship. One coiled near the Captain’s Command Announcing System, where many a “now hear this” had been shouted over the last years of duty. Ten red lights sat in two rows of five, each with a thick black switch that would be flipped to activate any of those stations, the Open Bridge, Secondary Conn, Damage Control, Pre-Flight Briefing, AA Stations and more. Now those lights sat dark, the switches all set to the vertical off position.

  Halsey’s orders had been given, the men and planes and ships all set in motion by his bawling commands, and now he could only stand there, waiting, listening, eyeing that Mission Board and wondering how many of those men would make it safely back to the ship. This was the hardest part of the job for Halsey, and the skin ailment that had been brought on by all the stress of these last months was making the wait even worse. They had opened a can of ‘Peerless Coffee,’ a Bay Area special that had been roasted there since 1924. Halsey picked up three cans before they left the west coast, but now, as the weather loosened up a bit and Enterprise came into the clear, he looked to see the cruiser San Francisco burning in his wake.