Cuttlefish
Posts: 2454
Joined: 1/24/2007
From: Oregon, USA
Status: offline
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March 3, 1944
Location: Saipan
Course: None
Attached to: TF 33
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 466
Orders: Prepare to sortie
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While Hibiki gets ready to depart Saipan let’s catch up with some old friends.
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The Japanese anti-aircraft guns open up right on schedule. “Constance” begins to shake from the concussion of near misses. Frank Barnwell hunches over his guns, scanning the sky for enemy fighters, and then hears a voice over his headset.
“Ninety seconds to target,” says the navigator.
“Ninety seconds, roger,” says the pilot. “Stand by, Timmons.” Timmons, the bombardier, acknowledges the message. The Wellington bomber, one of six in the formation, bores in on its target, the major Japanese airbase near Mandalay.
Barnwell winces as a near miss sends shrapnel flying through the fuselage. The Japanese AA guns around Mandalay are numerous and accurate, and it is a rare day that “Constance” does not come back without some kind of damage. On a good day no gets hurt or killed. But the Jap airfields have to be kept out of commission.
At least the Wimpy, as crews almost invariably call the Wellington, can take a lot of damage and still get the crew home. This is a prized quality, especially since the jungle around Mandalay is filled by now with the remains of American and British bombers that didn’t make it. The siege there has been going on for months now, and there is no end in sight.
“Constance” unloads her bombs accurately and turns for home, pursued by several last bursts of AA fire. It looks like all six bombers made it this time, though at least one is trailing a bit of smoke. Barnwell looks around for pursuing Japanese fighters. There haven’t been any over Mandalay in weeks, but it doesn’t pay to get cocky.
Barnwell sighs. Sometimes he almost misses the bad old days when he was being chased by the Japanese across the Dutch East Indies. Sure, he has a bed to sleep in now, plenty of food and his mates around him, but it’s dangerous in the skies over Mandalay. Damned dangerous.
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Kojima Miharu walks out into the garden early in the morning. There is frost everywhere the sun has not yet reached, giving the rocks and plants a coat of glittering white. In the distance she can hear two of her neighbors talking, and further off there is the noise of an automobile motor starting. But it is still rather quiet. Kojima shivers a little in the chill. It seems to always be too quiet when her husband is gone.
As the wife of a navy officer she accepts this. Yet since the war started he has been gone so much. Kojima would not dream of complaining, it is an honor to have him serve, but she still misses him. It was nice that she was able to spend so much time in Tokyo with him recently, but of course there is no knowing when he will return to Japan. Or if he will return to Japan, some traitorous corner of her mind whispers, but she angrily banishes the thought.
She feels a sudden twist of nausea. Oh dear, she thinks, this is what comes of worrying too much. Or perhaps the fish she had for dinner the night before was not as fresh as she thought. The nausea passes and then comes back a little stronger. Kojima turns and hurries back into the house. It would not be seemly to throw up outside.
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Lieutenant Colonel Richard Marson ignores the large drops of water falling from the canopy of vegetation overhead. The commander of the Australian 2/25 Battalion, 7th Infantry Division, knows that worse things fall out of the trees here. Spiders, snakes, scorpions, centipedes…if it can bite you, sting you, or poison you it lives here, he thinks. Not to mention that the climate is appalling and there are diseases here that no one even has a name for yet.
He and his men are making their way along a narrow jungle trail, really just a slot through the riot of undergrowth. Somewhere ahead are thousands of Japanese troops, refugees from the Allied conquest of Madang. The Japanese are trying to make their way to Wewak, the closest Japanese-held base, and Marson and his men, along with a lot of other troops, are trying to stop them.
Marson wonders how the Japs keep going. He and his men have plenty of supplies and he still has trouble keeping half his battalion on their feet. Dysentary, malaria, yellow fever, jungle rot, and a dozen other diseases take a steady toll. The Japs must be eating tree bark and lizards and they still turn and fight when they get the chance. At least their efforts have been growing weaker, Marson thinks. They are moving more slowly and fighting less effectively every time the two sides make contact. Other columns are closing in on them and Marson thinks that they might finally be able to bring them to bay and destroy them. Any sane foe would surrender, but the Japanese aren’t sane, not as far as he can tell.
If that happens maybe he can finally get his men out of this goddamn jungle.
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