1275psi
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Joined: 4/17/2005
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May 10th
0400 hrs
Hasegawa enters the bridge, his form barely recognizable in the pre dawn light, he shuffles to his usual place near the starboard binnacle
‘Captain on the Bridge!’
The OOW, the navigator, the assistants nod towards him, he nods the morning greeting back.
Carefully, he takes up his binoculars, raises them, scans the ocean about them.
‘A quiet night gentlemen?”
‘Nothing to report sir, Shoho has lost a boiler for a reported another 30 minutes. BB Ise reported a possible submarine contact at 0300”
‘Where are they now?”
‘Still hugging the coast, just of Victoria point”
Hasegawa grunts. All good, so far.
He raises the glasses again, now as his eyes adjust better to the pink on the horizon-he can –just, make out the shadow of Port Blair. Port Blair –a poisonous snake lying curled against his flank………..
He sighs, glances at the clock, the growing dawn. ‘Time for action gentlemen, lets start the day”
“Hie!”
The navigator leans over a voice tube –speaks calmly. ‘call the ship to action please.”
‘Ship at state one sir”
“‘very good”
Dawn
The moment when the hunted are at their weakest.
The moment when senses are tired, eyes weary, reactions at the slowest.
Where half light can expose the hunted, and hide the hunter.
Zuiho sails the still pitch dark sea, pitch dark enemy land to her West, and waits.
Below those dark waters, hunters lurk.. You just know they are there – and every moment below decks, every moment below the water line, can be an eternity –if you let your mind dwell on it.
Everybody knows, that at the moment, Zuiho is the hunted…………..
Above decks, Hidaka drives his department. The kates bellow, oil temperatures rising.
Soon, soon he intends to turn this situation their way………soon they will hunt them.
Below decks, waiting, the men work.
Not physical work, watchkeeping. The boilers are watched, the turbines watched, the auxillories tended. At action stations, the engineering department has but one task –answer the revolution counters, obey the telegraphs.
At whatever cost.
But for the moment, all is quiet (as the machinery lets it be)
The Charge is in the Port Engine room, and he is at work.
Different work. He bends to the communications circuit again
‘Question number 13. What is the minimum lube oil pressure at the remote bearings?”
He waits two minutes
“Question number fourteen. Where is the pump suction remote reach valve located for the Starboard boiler room?”
And so it goes, until twenty questions are asked.
‘Bring your answers to the port Engine room please, winning space one bottle of sake”
The quiz has taken nearly an hour.
One hour less to think of those hunters outside………..
0600 hours.
Now the sky is clear, and the ea going from grey, to green, and soon, blue.
No SS attack.
But now, now the sky is scanned, and scanned.
Zuiho falls ouut of action, goes to state two –her guns still loaded, half manned, the crew grabbing breakfast at their posts, the rice pots and baskets being brought to them –good sticky white rice today.
The men eat it with their fingers, licking them clean, eyes still cocked at the sky.
And nobody says it.
Despite the fighters overhead – they still feel hunted.
1200 hours.
And now the sun bakes her decks, her gun bays, her hanger becomes an oven again.
The watches change, men silent mostly.
Some relieved to get above, others, as they go below, intensely aware of the steel enclosing them , surrounding them, slamming shut above their heads, hatches screwing down.
And still, there is no sign of the enemy
1430 hours, a break in the tension.
A Kate reports “many ships bearing 280 degrees” – and excitement breaks out –until, minutes later, it is obvious some one has reported swift eagle itself as the enemy……
1600 hours, and now the sun is sliding down, and the third shift of search planes are departing, the second being struck below.
Tired, sweaty pilots and crew wearily make their way to the ready room.
Nothing sighted, nothing at all.
Two zeros have even swept over Port Blair field –and nothing stirs
But everyone still feels………..hunted
2000 hours, and now the sun begins to sink – and Hasegawa, who has not moved from the bridge, calls dusk action stations.
A day .
Nothing sighted.
Nothing, apparently gained.
Hasegawa does not think so.
They know we are here –they must. And as long as we keep between them and the coast, 25th army is safe.
We may want to hunt, we may boast of the hunt. But this is what navies are for –to steam the oceans, and to deny safe passage to them, and keep safe passage for us.
This is our mission Hidaka –if you could only see it. Hunt, when we can, when we must. But for now, we play the shepherd. The good Shepherd.
Idly, Hasegawa considers that thought.
The Good shepherd. Its would make a great name for a book about the war at sea…………
Grand Dictator Herbiesan considers the meal before him (and his ‘guest’)
Lobster –fresh.
Prawns –fresh.
A nice rice, a good wine.
It will be a good meal, and she will make a lovely desert……..
There is a knock at the door, discreet, but insistent
Damn…….
‘’One moment my dear…….a war to run and all that – can you leave us a moment?’
It is General Tokiwa – a flighty barsted , but bendable and obedient……”yes general?”
‘’Sorry sir….a message from our sources in Gibraltar “strong indications of an enemy offensive in southern Pacific about to be launched ***”
***(Strong E mail hints from cantona)
‘Anything else?”
‘Our source also believes that we are about to strike at Tarawa………”
‘he does?’
‘yes sir.
Interesting. Good. Now, can Yamamoto use this –or will the buffoon flub it again?
< Message edited by 1275psi -- 3/14/2011 9:08:55 AM >
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RE: The little ship that could. - 
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