by M. L. Maki
“We broke the back of the invasion force, downing over 300 aircraft, sinking one aircraft carrier, one battleship, six cruisers, and nineteen destroyers, as well as other craft. As I am sure most of you realize, resupply is going to become a critical problem soon. Admiral Ren, therefore, has decided to withdraw once all aircraft are recovered. Our next stop is Wake Island, where we hope to intercept an invasion fleet. After that, we will make our way to Pearl Harbor. I cannot guarantee a port visit as we will have to see what happens once we report to Admiral Nimitz. You have all done an exemplary job, and I expect, we will continue to do so. That is all. Captain out.”
Pucks looks at Spike and smiles, offering her the seat next to him. “I see you’re not hobbling anymore.”
“Yeah, I got the stiffness out.” She surveys the room, “Puck…”
Book pacing at the podium looks at Swede, “You think you are hot shit, sinking destroyers.”
“I haven’t said anything, Book.”
Book continues, not hearing him, “Yeah, you and the pink flight, that’s what we should call it, the PINK FLIGHT.”
Swede says, “Just drop it, Book.”
“Fuck you, hillbilly. I ain’t gonna wear no fucking pink ribbon.”
Hot Pants says, “Who cares about a stupid bet.”
Book, “SHUT UP…YOU…STUPID…BITCH! Both of you, just shut the fuck up.”
Spike looks at him, surprised, and Swede says, “Book, you’re out of line, man. Rein it in.”
“Fuck you, Swede. You think you are hot shit. Well, you’re just lead pimp in the pink flight.”
Swede stands, “Book…” All of Flight 3 stand up.
Ignoring them, Book continues, “That’s right, a pimp. What’s it like getting blow jobs from your subordinate pilots?”
Swede takes a step forward, “Commander Carelton, stop, now!”
Spike quickly moves ahead of Swede, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Let him rant, Swede. He’s upset, okay? We all are.” Book walks toward them, scowling.
Swede says, “You’re right, Spike.”
“Do you make them swallow, pimp, or do you shoot all over their hair?”
Turning to Book, Sam says, “It’s ok, Book. We are all upset about Bo-Bo and Klutz.”
Book yells, “BITCH!” and hits Sam with a wicked right cross to the chin. She falls back and to the side, Puck running to catch her, and they both fall.
Swede’s right hand leaps up, hitting Book in the mouth, driving his head back. Book staggers back, sitting down hard on the deck. Thud, Speedy, and Gandhi close on Book, while Gloria goes to Sam and Puck. Book struggles to his feet, bleeding from a cut lip, “I’m going to destroy you for that.”
Calm, Swede says, “Okay, well, I might as well get my money’s worth.” He hits Book again with a cross to the check. Book staggers back, bumping into Gandhi, who keeps him standing. Book throws a chopping right jab, hitting Swede in the chest. Then, Swede spreads his legs and hits Book twice in the stomach. The two stand, toe to toe, throwing punches on each other.
Puck, “Are you alright, Sam?” as he helps her to her feet.
Rubbing her jaw, “Yeah, Eric,” then to the two men, “GUYS, KNOCK IT OFF!”
Packs grabs Thud, pulling him away from the melee. Thud looks at him, “You aren’t fighting for him, Packs? He’s wrong.”
Packs answers, “He’s my pilot,” and swings at Thud.
Sam steps toward Swede and Book, “STOP! Just stop.”
Puck wraps her from behind, “Let them fight it out, Sam. It’s been coming for a while.”
Thud slips a blow from Packs, “This ain’t about loyalty, Packs. He hit Spike.”
Pack turns, blind-siding Gandhi with a blow to the arm. Gandhi moves out of the hit, grabs Packs in a wrist lock, and flips him to the floor. “Book’s out of line, and you know it.”
Packs, “He’s my pilot,” as he struggles against the arm bar Gandhi has him in. Work it as he might, he cannot move.
Thud, “Packs, this isn’t about loyalty, man.”
Swede and Book continue, toe to toe. Swede pounding blow after blow to Book’s belly, and Book landing hit after hit to Swede’s face and shoulders. Then, Book tries a knee to Swede’s groin, and Swede twists, taking the hit on his hip, and getting in an uppercut that snaps Book’s head back. The crushing right uppercut staggers Book, and Swede says, “You’re done, Book. Don’t make me finish this.”
Sam steps in, “Guys, stop it. Please, stop it.”
Book steps back, wiping blood off his mouth and breathing heavily. Swede turns to Sam, “Are you alri…” Book charges and Swede swings a cross to Book’s jaw, and he crumbles to the deck.
From the door Holtz shouts, “KNOCK IT OFF!”
Swede steps back and Book rolls onto his knees, retching. The others move back, clearing a path for Holtz. Gandhi lets loose of Packs. Holtz looks over the scene, “Swede, what the hell just happened?”
Swede tears the rank insignia off his uniform, hands them to Holtz, and sits down. Book still on his knees, says, “He…he struck me. You saw it yourself. I want him in the brig.”
Holtz shakes his head, “Everyone, sit down. Book, Book, I saw you both fighting. But, why? Why would Swede…?”
“What does it matter why, he did it.”
Gloria says, “Carleton hit Sam first, and Swede was defending her.”
Book says, “Shut up, cunt. No one is asking you.”
Holtz, “Stow it, Book. Another word out of you and I’ll hit you myself.”
Swede finally says, “He hit her, boss. He was way out line. If I’m going to the brig, he ought to, too.” He looks at Book, “If you’re charging me with assault, I’m charging you with assault and sexual harassment.”
Holtz says, “Settle down, Swede. I thought it was something like that. What did he say?” No one answers, then, “Spike, what did he say?”
“He called Swede a pimp and said Swede was getting blow jobs from his pilots. He was spoiling for a fight, sir. When I tried to calm him down, he hit me.”
“Is that what all of you heard? What you saw?”
They all nod, and Puck says, “Spike was trying to calm him when he hit her, sir.”
Book now on his feet, turns to Puck, “You helped him! All of you helped him! You’re gonna go down, too.”
In a cold tone of voice, Puck says, “Carleton, I haven’t hit you, yet.”
Holtz says, “Enough of that, Book. Are you trying to court martial my whole squadron? Just be quiet and let me think.” Then, “Did anyone other than Swede hit you?”
“No, only him.”
The problem, Swede, is once he leveled charges at you, you can’t counter charge. The UCMJ doesn’t allow it.” Then to Book, “Are you sure you want to press charges? It will tear up the squadron and we’re in a shooting war.”
Book says, “Damn straight. He’s going down. Then they won’t have their protector.” Book turns to Spike and Hot Pants, “We lost two good MEN today. Why couldn’t we have lost you two instead?”
Puck balls his fists, his face darkening, “You evil son of a bitch.”
Gloria opens her mouth in shock, then puts her face in her hands. GQ puts his hand on her shoulder, lips tight.
Gunner says under his breath, “What the fuck man?”
The silence in the room deepens until the only sound is Gloria crying.
Spike grits her teeth, eyes narrowed, and looks around. Some of the men meet her gaze, but others look away. “Fine. He hit me. I’m charging him with assault.”
Holtz asks, “Not sexual harassment?” She shakes her head.
Thud, crimson, looks at Speedy, who’s scowling, “Commander?”
“Go ahead, Thud.”
“Commander, I want to place charges on Lieutenant Commander Carleton, sir.”
Confused, Holtz asks, “What for?”
“For sexual harassment and conduct unbecoming an officer, he accused me of having homosexual sex with Lieutenant Swedenborg, sir.”
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“He did?”
“Yes, sir. He said Swede was getting blow jobs from ALL his pilots, sir. I’m one of those pilots.”
Holtz sits down, putting his head in his hands.
Spike, holding Gloria, looks at Thud, shocked.
Book says, “Oh my God. It’s high time we got rid of Swedenborg and his pussy pink flight.”
Holtz glares at Book, “Shut the fuck up, Book.” Then to his RIO, Lt. JG Todd, “Shawn, call the masters at arms. I’ve got to call the CAG and the Captain.”
ADMIRAL’S CONFERENCE ROOM, ONE HOUR LATER
LCDR Carleton, Lt. Swedenborg, CDR Holtz, Lt. Hunt, and Lt. JG Jackson are all in their dress blues waiting for the Admiral and Captain to come in. Because of the rules of non-judicial punishment, a chaplain and the Chief Master at Arms are required to be present, as well as the accused person’s supervisor. The requirement for the chaplain is a holdover from the days when a commanding officer could issue capital punishments such as the cat ‘o nine tails, keel hauling, hanging, or hanging from the bows. The chaplain is there to offer last rites to the condemned. The CMAA is there for if the commanding officer orders confinement to the brig, or even bread and water.
The accused has the right to ask witnesses to be present, but the CO is not obligated to allow the witnesses to speak. The accused cannot ask for counsel, as the proceedings are non-judicial, but he can waive the NJP and ask for court martial. Not normally a good idea. Court martial convictions are felonies.
“Attention on deck!” and Admiral Ren, Captain Johnson, and Captain Lee walk in wearing working khaki.
Ren says, “Master at Arms, I will hear the case against Lieutenant Swedenborg first.”
The CMAA says, “Lieutenant Swedenborg is charged with one count of Article 90, Assaulting or willfully disobeying a superior officer.”
Ren asks Swede, “How do you plead?”
“Guilty, sir.”
“No excuses about extenuating circumstances?”
“No, sir, I hit him.”
“Why?”
“Because, sir, he hit Lt. Hunt. Before that he accused me of taking sexual advantage of my subordinate officers, sir, and selling their services for money.”
“He said that?”
“He called me a pimp, sir. That’s what a pimp does.”
“Setting the assault aside for now, the gist is, he impugned your honor?”
“Yes, sir, but he also impugned the virtue of three officers under my command.”
“Is it honorable to strike a superior office, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir.”
“So, in defense of your honor, you yourself impugned it.”
“No, sir, that’s not how I see it.”
“Neither do I. Do you feel your actions were in defense of Lt. Hunt?”
“Yes, at least, to begin with. The truth is, Lt. Hunt was sucker punched. Otherwise, she could have defended herself with no help from me. Sir, he was spoiling for a fight. He said all that stuff to start a fight. I should have known better. It pissed me off that he hit her and that was the final straw. After that the fight was on. I could have tried to hold him down, or something, but by then my blood was up. I’m sorry, sir.”
“I’m sorry, too. You admittedly struck a superior officer. For that offense, you will be reduced in rank to lieutenant junior grade, suspended for three months, and continue in flight status.
Swede says, “Yes, sir.” Salutes, does an about face, and is directed out of the room by the CMAA.
Admiral Ren says, “Master at Arms, please read the charges against Lieutenant Commander Carleton.”
The CMAA says, “Two counts of Article 92, failure to obey an order or regulation, one count of Article 117, provoking speech or gestures, one count of Article 128, assault, and three counts of Article 133, conduct unbecoming an officer and gentleman.”
Ren asks, “How do you plead, Lieutenant Commander Carleton?”
Carleton says, “Not guilty, sir. I was defending myself from Lieutenant Hunt and Lieutenant Swedenborg.”
“You were defending yourself? According to the reports I read, she was trying to calm you down?”
“She raised her hand to me. I thought she would strike me.”
“And how do you explain your aggressive and inappropriate comments before the encounter?”
“I never intended to include Lieutenant Jackson in my comments?”
“Your intent is irrelevant. You said what you said.”
“Then, sir, how is it I have three counts?”
Ren says, “One count of conduct unbecoming for tonight, the second for other night when you yelled at Lieutenant Hunt and Lieutenant Hoolihan for saving lives, and the third for several nights ago when you berated Lieutenant Hunt for helping Lieutenant Mohr. So, two counts each time for disobeying the general orders of the Navy, and for disobeying the orders given to you by your commanding officer. One count for each female officer, but you’re right, that would be five counts. So, note in the charge paper, Master at Arms. Any more questions, Lieutenant Commander Carleton?”
Turning pale, Book says, “No, sir.”
Ren continues, “I would say you made a regular ass out of yourself, Lieutenant Commander. This is your opportunity to attempt to redeem yourself. Have you anything to say?”
Carleton says, “Sir, why did the Navy ever think women should fly jets? It’s 1941 now, and it’s illegal, and I believe it’s wrong. The Lord never meant a woman to do a man’s work. The Bible says so. Besides, I was just saying what everyone else is thinking.”
Turning red, Ren says, “Jesus also said, ‘Love one another as I love you.’ Did you forget that scripture, or do you only read ones that let you be an asshole? I find you guilty on all counts. You’re busted to Lieutenant Junior Grade, taking a half month pay, times two, and giving you four days of bread and water to think about what you’ve done. If it were practical to court martial you, I would. You are also going to be transferred to Captain Lee’s staff. I would pull you from flight status, but we need every pilot, even an idiot like you. I’m ordering you to have no contact with any of the aircrew involved in this, except as part of your official duties. If I hear about another outburst from you, I will throw you in the brig to rot. Do you understand?”
Carleton lowers his head to hide his anger, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Master at Arms, get him out of my face.”
As the CMAA leads Carleton away, Ren looks at the remaining officers, “Commander Holtz, you need a new XO, but this isn’t the time or place. Can you handle your squadron without one for now?”
“Yes, sir, I can.”
“Okay, I have one question, Lieutenant Hunt, why didn’t you or Lieutenant Hoolihan file charges of sexual harassment? He was way out of line.”
Sam swallows, trying to find her voice, and Thud says, “If I may, sir?”
“Yes, lieutenant, go ahead.”
“Because they’re girls, and neither want to be accused of causing trouble. They work really hard to get respect, and I think, if they filed sexual harassment charges against Lieutenant Carleton, they would fear they would lose what respect they have with the guys.”
Ren is quiet, then he says, “I understand, son. I hope, though, that after their performance in the air today, they get that respect. They’ve earned mine. Commander Holtz, I don’t envy you your job. Okay, dismissed.
CHAPTER 22
11TH AIR FLEET HEADQUARTERS, TAKAO PREFECTURE, FORMOSA,
0630, 23 DECEMBER, 1941
Lt. Kenzo Koizumi stands at attention in the office of Vice Admiral Nishizo Tsukahara. The sips his tea, reading, and looks up, “Lieutenant Koizumi, you have done very well to shoot down one of the American planes. You are the only one of my pilots to do so, though, many were able to hit them with guns. Why were you successful?”
“Fortune favored me, Admiral. All of my fellow pilots are excellent aviators.”
“Yes, they are, however, as you analyze your movements, what gave
you the advantage?”
“I was always moving, sir. Never did I fly in a straight line. When I saw an opportunity, I did not hesitate.”
“We have lost a great number of aircraft and pilots today. I do not wish to lose you, but you have been recalled to Japan. May you continue to serve the Emperor with distinction.”
ENGINE MAINTENANCE AFT OF HANGAR BAY 3, 0810, 23 DECEMBER, 1941
Most of the space between hangar bay 3 and the fantail belongs to the Aviation Intermediate Maintenance Depot, which is part of the ship’s force. It’s also home to the power plant divisions of every squadron on deployment. Functionally, each squadron gets a corner for their tools which are stored in large multi-drawer cabinets called vidmars.
The Black Knight Air Frame and Power Plant Division belongs to Lt. Hunt. This morning they’re working on a General Electric F110-400 turbofan engine, preparing it for turnover to AIMD for testing. Three people are working on the engine, the rest are standing around talking. Sam is leaning against a vidmar reading the QA report on the engine they just wheeled back to AIMD. There, they fire the engine out the stern, often adding a knot or two of speed to the 90,000-ton vessel.
Greg Newburg, her new airman off the Stoddert, walks in, and without looking up, Sam asks, “How is MM1 Hammond, Greg?”
The rest of her crew look up, knowing his friend is still in medical. “He’s ok. The corpsman says it’s going to take a long time. He started walking a bit today, though.”
AD1 Gellar says, “LT, if we’re going to keep your pet fireman in the division, shouldn’t we give him a call sign?”
Grinning, “Hmmm, you’re right. What should it be? What defines you?”
Newburg answers, “I don’t know. Does everybody have one?”
