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kaleun -> RE: Niitaka Yama Nobore. Son of Heaven Vs Buttsworth (10/22/2007 11:12:51 PM)
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Showa 17 nen Nigatsu niju yokka (Feb 24th)
Midnight. The skies are clear, with only a sliver of moon showing on the sky. Aboard the transports, anxious soldiers look over the gunwales of their transports; those that are fortunate enough to be on the deck. For the immense majority, in the dark, cavernous holds of the transport ships, the anxiety over the approaching hours joins the discomfort of the crossing, in ships poorly designed for the purpose, the smell of vomit from the seasick soldiers, and the stench of improperly disposed human waste.
On the deck of one of the transports, Lt Yato lights a cigarette. He has shielded the light so it cannot be seen and keeps the ember within his hand, to maintain the strict blackout. He shakes his head at their orders. They are to attempt to land again tonight. The forces on Canton Island are desperate for reinforcements. Yesterday’s attempt cost the convoy all of its destroyers. Now, defended only by the aging minesweeper, they are to attempt a landing again.
In front of the formation, the minesweeper zigzags irregularly. Its sides lined with extra lookouts, looking for the enemy warships. Intelligence predicts the warships have left. They would be crazy to stay around with the Japanese carriers nearby. But Yato knows the carriers are not near. After the previous raids, they withdrew to Kwajalein.
The ponderous transports follow the minesweeper into the bay. They can now see the beachhead, by the occasional small arms fire around the perimeter. Perhaps the intelligence rats were right and the enemy battleships are gone.
The ships enter further into the bay and the soldiers prepare to disembark.
Flashes light the sky to the north. Soon after the whooshing sound of heavy shells breaks the stillness of the tropical night. One ship, then another is targeted by the big shells. The shells fall among the formation, near misses drenching the soldiers with the warm, tropical water, hits lighting up the formation as men and pieces of the ships fly through the air, blasted by the explosions. In front, the valiant minesweeper lays a smokescreen and tries to close with the big ships, firing all its weapons, even if it is completely out of range, and would not be able to hurt any of the big ships, if they were in range.
Salvo after salvo straddles the brave little ships that keeps twisting and turning, this way and that, making smoke, and like a single sheep dog beset by a pack of wolves, tries to keep the pack from his herd.
The transports turn tail and scatter. The sacrifice of the minesweeper enables almost all of the transports to leave the bay and head to the West. Four hulks remain, burning, in the bay.
At Dawn, Lt Yato can still see the island lying East. They have not withdrawn that far. He fears they will be ordered to try to land again in the night.
The convoy is in a very open formation; ready to scatter should the warships appear. The lookouts, reinforced by the soldiers keep their eyes peeled.
“Airplanes there!” A lookout points to the north sky. The alarm sounds and all the AA guns are manned.
“Bakayaro!” Screams the first officer from the bridge. “They are our planes.”
Indeed they are. Flying low over the transports, bombers, with torpedoes slung under them fly over. Their wings sport the Rising Sun emblem.
“Banzai, Banzai, Banzai!” All the soldiers cheer as the huge formation passes overhead. Dive bombers can be seen flying higher and, even higher, so small that they cannot be clearly identified, flies the fighter cover. The planes fly towards the island.
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