Cribtop
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From: Lone Star Nation
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May 30, 1942
Ensign Dazai Razan hated rain, clouds and the Indian Ocean, in that order. For the third consecutive day, his Nakajima B5N2 torpedo bomber flew through storms near the large island of Ceylon. No one spoke of it, but every man in Kido Butai could feel that this operation, unlike all those before it, was not going according to plan. Perhaps Genda Minoru's brain trust on Akagi had finally failed, perhaps bad luck or the early monsoon was to blame, but for three days the Carrier Strike Force of the Imperial Japanese Navy had found only the smallest of fish while hunting for whales.
This was a strange war. Razan had been trained for years that Japan would fight a defensive battle against the advancing navies of the Imperialists, whittling down the arrogant aggressors before the battle line of the Main Body would strike the killing blow with big gun dreadnoughts. Instead, from December 7 on, the enemy had fled to his ports, conceding the Pacific Ocean to the IJN. As a result, it had been up to the carrier aircraft of Kido Butai to hunt the enemy down in his den, attacking one port after another to sink the enemy at anchor. Even his shipmates on the Zuikaku were shocked at their success. Pearl Harbor, Darwin, Soerabaja - all names that swelled their hearts with pride and filled the Western newspapers with dread, as they trumpeted frightened headlines wondering where the Japanese would strike next.
But now they labored, and if the radio intercepts out of Colombo were true, a bit of the terror had gone out of the enemy. Three days of poor weather had helped to keep the Royal Navy's main base in the Bay of Bengal immune from attack, forcing the Japanese carrier aviators to try their luck on less important and more nimble prey. They had hit a few light combat ships, but nothing that would justify the risk of sailing this far into danger. Today looked no different, as rain droplets struck the Nakajima's canopy and visibility seemed poor at best. At least this morning he could see the island, so perhaps there was hope.
Razan's reverie was shattered by the sound of gunfire ahead. As his aircraft broke out of the cloud cover, he saw that his flight's escorting Type 0 Fighters had engaged British planes rising to protect the Battleships of the Eastern Fleet. He should be concerned, but instead he felt pity for the English. They faced some of the best trained pilots on Earth, flying a fighter clearly more than a match for their Hurricanes. Plus, the Zero jockeys were frustrated after three days of impotence. Ensign Dazai lost count of the enemy machines that burst into flames and fell to the rough landscape below. His pilot never had to so much as alter course in response to the futile efforts of the UK fighters.
This elation at his comrades' aerial victory turned to disgust as he saw that Colombo's harbor was socked in again, with tall grey clouds mounting up high like the towers of a heavenly castle defending the enemy from any attack. Razan fumed. He decided then and there that a wisp of cloud would not deter his flight today. His eyes scanned the fog, seeking any chink in the ethereal armor.
During training for this operation, his superiors had constantly warned of the dozens of heavy flak guns that ringed Colombo's naval yards. They had insisted the bombers remain at 14,000 feet to minimize losses. Well, the ceiling was well below that today, and Dazai was tired of waiting. He would risk himself and his crew, the other Navigator/Bombardiers could decide their own course. There! Just a small gap in the clouds bearing about 50 degrees, but he directed his pilot to make for it. Without orders, Zuikaku's Kates followed him down as one.
Razan's eyes grew wide as he saw enemy capital ships in the grey half light. Battleship Warspite and Battlecruiser Repulse, if he was not mistaken. BANZAI! He leaned over his bomb site in anticipation. Flak burst around the B5Ns, but it was thin and off target. Apparently the thrice cursed storm clouds obscured the enemy gunner's sights as they did his. Dazai decided to wait to release until the following aircraft were over the capital ships. That meant his own target was a light cruiser berthed just beyond Repulse. He knew immediately it was the Newcastle, one of the ships damaged in air strikes a few days ago. His finger tightened on the bomb release, and he felt the Nakajima lurch upward as a 250kg armor piercing bomb dropped.
The aircraft pulled up and turned to starboard, giving Dazai a view of the ships under attack. He watched Newcastle, sure his bomb had struck home just abaft of the rearmost stack. The results were less than grand, with a small trickle of smoke leaking out from the deck. He saw numerous bombs impact Repulse and Warspite, with towering flames shooting up from both vessels. Razan thought again how much he would have preferred to drop one of the 800kg bombs hitting those ships.
He turned to take one last look over his shoulder at his target when his neck was violently wrenched forward as a shock wave shuddered the plane. Newcastle exploded with such force that she seemed to rise out of the water amidships before breaking in two. It happened so fast that Dazai wondered if he was the only witness to the terrific eruption. THAT should put the fear of Kido Butai back in the Imperialists. It was then he noticed figures hurling themselves from the already settling cruiser into the waters of the harbor. What must it be like on a ship under attack by carrier aircraft? Dazai Razan hoped he never found out...
Near Mili, Marshall Islands
"How many more times can they come," thought Lieutenant Kajitani Fujio on the ruined bridge of the light cruiser Tenryu. Literally hundreds of American carrier aircraft had attacked the cruisers and destroyers of the Marshalls Squadron for hours on end. The fast combat ships twisted and turned, firing their anti-aircraft weapons into the veritable phalanx of bombers tormenting them. The torpedo planes were slow and easily avoided, but the dive bombers just kept coming.
Tenryu had moved to Mili hoping to ambush the Americans if they attempted another naval bombardment, as they had at Baker Island last week. Instead, as morning dragged toward noon they were set upon by what seemed to be every squadron in the American carrier fleet. The first bomb hit had exploded on the number two turret, flinging shrapnel into the Bridge and killing the Captain instantly. From that moment on, Lt. Kajitani had assumed command, not that he could do much other than watch the skies and order the helm to undertake one wild turn after another. It was awful to face a foe without any real chance of fighting back.
"Aircraft, bearing 275 degrees," shouted a lookout. Perhaps this at last was the air support promised by Fourth Fleet. Nells out of Roi Namur and Bettys from Tabiteuea were on call and in range, but as yet there was no sign of aid. Kajitani's blood went cold as he saw only more Dauntlesses pitching over. He gave the order but already knew he was too late...
< Message edited by Cribtop -- 11/2/2011 2:43:50 AM >
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RE: Wait, I can't read Cuttlefish's new AAR? - Cribtop ... - 
I'll have to look at Tracker but I know the Tojo has advanced a few months. Why oh why didn't the IJAAF and IJNAF just get together and say - hey, howze about we both use the Zero for our 1942 fighter plane. 
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