Kirov III-Pacific Storm (Kirov Series) (33 page)

Nagumo stared at his shattered carrier
division realizing that he now had only the small light carrier
Ryujo
operational. It had taken one bomb on the fantail, but the damage had been controlled.
Neither of his fleet carriers could receive the returning waves of planes, and
Ryujo
could accommodate no more than thirty aircraft. He had sent eighty strike
planes and twenty fighters against the Americans, pleased to learn that they
had scored hits on two of the three carriers there, and that a battleship had
also been hit. Thirty planes had been lost in the attack, but where would the
remainder go? He also had fighters aloft and needed
Ryujo
for defense
operations over his task force, or he would certainly lose
Kaga
should
the American planes return for a second strike. The dogged American Marines had
also wrested control of the airfield on Guadalcanal at Lunga, so his surviving
planes could not land there.

He had no choice but to order them to fly
southwest in the hope of somehow finding the Western Task Force under Admiral
Yamashiro where they could land on
Hiryu
and
Soryu
. This they
did, eventually finding that task force south of San Cristobal and east of
Rennell Island, but the haggard formations of Nagumo’s precious strike planes
arrived at a most inopportune time.

Yamashiro had been unable to get any
radio communications through to either Nagumo or Combined Fleet Operations in
the Kondo Bombardment group. The radio waves eventually cleared up, but unlike
Nagumo, the urgency to strike at once was not as great for him. The Americans
did not know where his ships were. For all they knew, Nagumo’s force
represented the only real threat to their operations. He therefore held his
strike wave on deck—until the airwaves suddenly cleared a little after 06:00
hrs that morning and he heard the urgent calls coming from Nagumo’s planes as
they desperately tried to locate his carriers.

Realizing that he now had to receive
some fifty planes in a recovery operation, he hastily began launching
everything he had to make room on the already crowded decks of his two fleet
carriers. Nagumo’s planes arrived short of fuel, and many had to be given
immediate priority to land. If he had kept his third carrier in hand, the light
escort carrier
Ryuho
, he could have started bringing Nagumo’s planes in
there, but the
Dragon Phoenix
was well to the north by now, coordinating
with the Hara Group for a strike on a mysterious ship that appeared to be
threatening the second wave transport fleet where troops of the 3rd division
were still riding at sea.

Yamashiro had only
Hiryu
and
Soryu
available, but he managed to juggle his operations and get most of his planes
in the air, ordering some below decks, still fully armed, so as to make room on
the decks for the recovery. It was a matter of controlled chaos for a good long
while, and by the time his strike wave was finally headed northeast to look for
the Americans, the enemy had already learned of his location as well.

The American carriers moved boldly
west, like a boxer side stepping in the ring and slipping into a corner. Their
superior damage control had enabled them to clear their decks, recover most of
their planes and turn them around into another strike wave while Yamashiro was
struggling with his own recovery/launch operation further south. Yamashiro’s
planes flew to the last reported positions of the US fleet and began search
operations, but the lucky American strike wave led by Lieutenant Commander Wade
McClusky off the
Enterprise
found and followed one last straggler from
the Nagumo group, and it ended up leading them right to Yamashiro’s carriers.

The resulting air strike was
catastrophic. The Americans dove on the enemy while Lieutenant Commander John
Waldron’s Torpedo 8 off the
Hornet
came in on the deck. Yamashiro looked
out to see yet more planes coming at him for recovery before he realized what
was happening, and then controlled chaos became utter chaos. The American
planes found their primary targets and rained hell upon them. Bombs penetrated
the flight deck of both
Hiryu
and
Soryu
, some deep enough to
smash the armed remainder of his strike planes that had been taken below. The
resulting explosions were ripping his carriers to pieces, and then the
torpedoes came.

By 07:00 hours both
Hiryu
and
Soryu
were gone, and he had transferred his flag to the cruiser
Chokai
,
shaken and much distressed. He was now commander of little more than a
screening force with two cruisers and four destroyers. His planes would
eventually find and strike the Americans, hitting the
Hornet
hard enough
to put her at the bottom of the sea and also damaging both
Enterprise
and
Saratoga
, but when they concluded their strike there was now nowhere
they could go. No friendly flight deck could receive them in the Western Group.

In an astounding feat of flying and
carrier management, some twenty planes were told to look for Nagumo’s last
remaining light carrier
Ryujo,
the
Prancing Dragon
as it retired to
the north. There Nagumo managed to juggle operations and launch planes from
Ryujo
,
and then receive the valuable strike planes from Yamashiro’s savaged carriers.
He would refuel them and then send them up again while he recovered the
fighters as their fuel ran out, and on it went as the last of Nagumo’s force
hastily retired towards Rabaul. The planes from
Hiryu
and
Soryu
that could not take part in this flying circus were forced to ditch near
Guadalcanal and, though they were total losses, their precious pilots would
make it ashore there to fight again another day.

Yamamoto’s face was ashen as he listen
to the reports. The entire operation had come flying apart. The odd radio
interference had prevented close coordination of the two pincers and the Americans
had done exactly what the Japanese feared they would, defeating each horn in
detail. He had lost
Akagi, Hiryu, Soryu
, and
Kaga
was making a
pathetic twelve knots as she limped back to Rabaul. Her damage was severe
enough that she would be many months in repair, and effectively lost to the
fleet for the remainder of the year.

Then he heard the result of Admiral
Hara’s strike, and his mood darkened further. Lt. Commander Sakamoto was alive,
though many more planes and pilots from
Zuikaku
,
Shokaku,
and
Ryuho
had been killed. His force was now spent, and could be of no further service to
the action around Guadalcanal.

Yamamoto shook his head sullenly.
“Four decks sit there, almost empty considering
Zuiho
has also lost all
her planes, and here we learn of Yamashiro’s planes having to ditch off
Guadalcanal. This is a disaster. We had nine carriers to the enemy’s three! We
could have smashed the Americans if we had only coordinated our strikes more
carefully.”

“This odd radio interference, sir,”
Operations Chief Kuroshima explained, an almost pleading look on his face now.
“It could be another example of advanced jamming capabilities developed by the
enemy. This ship we have been chasing, this
Mizuchi
, has also been a
most unsettling affair.”

“Most unsettling? That ship has passed
through our entire operation like a bullet! Well, Kuroshima, what about it? Did
Hara’s planes sink it this time?”

“We have very strange reports, sir.
Sakamoto says the ship seemed to simply disappear as the strike planes were
making their final attack.”

“Disappear?”

“The reports are very confused, sir.
None of the pilots reported hits this time, but the ship was masked by smoke,
or so some of the reports read this way. Then it could not be found minutes
later. I was of the opinion that it had been hit and sunk, sir, possibly by one
of our submarines, but—”

“But we had no submarine in that area,
yes?”

“Correct, sir. Then we received this
last report from a seaplane off the cruiser
Tone
. Captain Iwabuchi has
his flag there now, and he reports that this
Mizuchi
has been spotted
again, about forty miles east of the position where Sakamoto’s planes made
their attack. The odd thing is this, sir. They made that sighting at 12:20
hours, just ten minutes ago. We’ve only just received the report.” He held out
the decrypted paper like another excuse.

Yamamoto frowned. “The distraction of
this ship has proved fatal. It has unhinged our entire operation, from Darwin
to the Coral Sea. Thank God Yamashita’s troops made good their pledge and at
least took Darwin. That is our only consolation in this whole sad affair. We
lost three fleet carriers today, and
Kaga
is a complete wreck as well.
Hara’s group has no teeth either. Do you realize that we now have virtually no
naval air power we can use here, and that is likely to be the case for months!
I wanted a decisive engagement, but who could expect this? Operation FS must be
immediately canceled. Kondo cannot hope to take those transports to Guadalcanal
now. It will be all we can do to safely get the men of the Nagoya Division to
friendly ports. The American carriers have been hit, but they do not sink!”

“We do report one carrier has been
abandoned and scuttled, sir. The
Hornet
.”

“Yet they still have two carriers
operational, not to mention control of the airfield at Lunga. Now we will have
to operate at night, running fast cruiser forces south through the Solomons to
land troops in the dark, like shadows skulking ashore before the dawn chases us
north again. This is disgraceful.”

There was a long silence in the room
before Kuroshima spoke again. “And this enemy ship, sir? This
Mizuchi?
Captain Iwabuchi has asked permission to take the cruiser escorts from Hara’s
group and hunt this sea dragon down again.”

Yamamoto’s eyes were like frozen fire.
“Where is this ship?” he asked, his voice low, with a dangerous edge.

“It is now reported heading southeast,
sir, and on a course that could still threaten the second wave troop convoy in
the Coral Sea.”

Yamamoto gave him a hard look. “Then
we turn to join the hunt as well,” he said. “Plot an intercept course at once,
and tell Captain Iwabuchi he may proceed. Let his hounds flush this bird out
and we will do the rest. It will be a long voyage north to Japan after this is
over.”

“I will personally apologize to the
Emperor, sir. It is all my responsibility.” Kuroshima lowered his head, the
shame apparent, his shoulders slouching.

“No, Kuroshima,” said Yamamoto. “I
will apologize to the Emperor—for the sinking of the
Akagi
, and all the
rest. The responsibility lies with me.” The
Akagi
had always been a much
loved and favorite ship for the Emperor. “But before I do so I will finish off
this
Mizuchi
once and for all…Or die trying.”

“Sakamoto had another name for this
ship, sir. How strange that his men lost contact with it in the middle of a
fight like that, only to find it a mere forty miles away over six hours later!
He called it
Kumuri
Kage
,
the Shadow Dancer. Everything we have learned about this ship is most
unsettling, sir. It has endured two major air strikes and yet survived. That
last attack by Hara’s group threw everything he had at the ship—over ninety
planes! It has sunk a cruiser, killed a submarine, beached a battleship and
still it eludes our grasp.”

Yamamoto gave Kuroshima a last sullen
look, a strange uncertainty in his eyes now, chased by sudden determination.
Then he gestured with his hand. “That will be all.”

Nothing more was said.

Part IX

Decisions

“Choices
are made in brief seconds and paid for

in
the time that remains.”

―
Paolo Giordano,
The Solitude of Prime Numbers

Chapter
25

Doctor Zolkin
looked at Voloshin, trying to
understand what the man was saying, and mustering as much sympathy as he could.
The Able Seaman had come to him soon after the last attack, shivering with
fear. It would not be the first time a man at sea faced the terrors of naval
combat and came away shattered by its horror. Yet the story Voloshin told him
had a nightmarish edge to it, a surreal quality that Zolkin found unbelievable.

True to the conventions of
vranyo
,
the Russian game where one man’s stretching of the truth was quietly received
by another without objection or complaint, he listened attentively as the man
told his tale. He had seen something pass through the ship, a shadow at first,
then what looked like a plane. He had been right in its path, servicing the
missiles beneath the long forward deck, turning to see it coming for him with
no hope of escape. Then the face of a man, his features frozen in a strange
agonizing scream. He said he could actually see the face of the pilot as the
shadow came hurtling for him, passing right through him, the leering face, the
wailing sound, like an angel of death itself.