1275psi
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Joined: 4/17/2005
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Twice now Mitchell has been in invasions.
Both times as part of the defense. Both times part of a successful defense.
Alone amongst all the men scrambling into the assault craft, he alone knows what can really happen, what probably will.
And yet, he climbs down the rope ladder, determined as any, to do his duty, to do his part.
Landing craft, heaving, swaying under his feet. Khaki bodies, pale, wet already, crammed into the heaving boat.
There is nothing to do except stare at the back of the man in front, to hang on, to pray.
Impressions crash into him. The great hulk of 4 battleships spewing fire and thunder.
Maleolap , or whatever they call it, wreathed in smoke, shattered palm trees.
The growl of the diesel propelling them inexorably towards the shore.
And now, the sound of guns, the chatter of machine guns, the crump of mortars, and terrifyingly, the whip of lead cracking past.
There is little comfort in “the ones you hear have already passed”
At 1800 hours, the first marine regiment, 822 EAB, and Mitchell, hit the beaches.
Twice now, the Japanese have tried to take an atoll in the face of dug in defenders fighting to the death. Twice they have failed, and died.
Can the Americans succeed third time around?
And who are you, mere man?
You are born, you grow. You play, you laugh, you cry
You go to school, you learn
Your journey follows the path of the generations before you.
Life, love.
But your path takes you here today, to this muddy field.
You, mere man, prepare to climb into your machine.
Does your journey end today, here, 20000 feet in the great blue above?
If it does. It does.
Would you, could you, imagine yourself anywhere else?
Impossible.
This is where you are meant to be.
The KI 44 is already running, vibrating, growling. You climb easily up its wing, using the rope supplied.
The crew chief assists you, as you sling your leg over and in, lifting yourself with your arms, and you settle in.
Chief passes you your flight board, your sword.
And the mind turns to the work at hand, body and mind as one.
Throttle, flaps, trim, gauges, goggles, straps.
You touch the throttle, eager to go, eager to go.
Around you, Lunga thunders as over a hundred engines come to life.
They stream past you now, three and four abreast at a time, tails rising into the air, and the ground crews wave hysterically, go!, go!, revenge us for the misery of these months. Our turn to inflict pain.
For what can stand against such gathered might.?
You grin, and fierce exhultation grips you. Your turn, you kick the throttle, kick the rudder, swing the stick. Glance left, glance right, wing men with you.
All grinning.
Throttle savagely forward, dust streaming aft, tail rising, ground rushing, bouncing, lightness, flying, gear up!, gear up!, flaps set, and climb, and climb , into the big blue.
And lunga falls below, fading, merging into the green, into the blue, into the curve of the world below.
Fighter pilot. Ruler of all you see…..
Other planes are up here, circling, circling, and you drive your Tojo higher , higher past the circling navy fighters, up to where it is clear, and clean, and OH so cold……..
The enemy come
Arrogant barsteds
As usual
36 strong, stacked neatly as always.
Big.
Beautiful
Deadly
And you so want to smash them………
You fly briefly, parallel, a thousand feet above them, watching, watching, gathering, and as the navy zeros begin to peel in, you attack.
Hard stick over, engine screaming, wings vertical, , the bombers float, float, rush , rush, grow, you rush, sweep in from the side, a difficult , difficult approach………but you are good enough for this……….
Guns hammer, the noise unheard, tracer reaching, reaching, the bombers wings flashing mere feet above as you race underneath, kicking your fighter down and away, pulling up now, up and hard in, other fighters with you,…….lots and lots of fighters with you………..
Japan swarms over the raid.
But the bombers, with greater guns, heavier, harder hitting GREATER REACHING guns…….fight back.
Just two fall
Four more will not get home
But such a trail of shattered fighters they will leave behind…………
You land
Ammunition expended
Your fighter is holed, but you are uninjured.
But Lunga is not
You cannot look the ground crew in the eye.
The bombers, despite this greatest of effort, have gotten through.
Yamaguichi reads the figures.
26 fighters lost .
26!
For a mere handful of bombers killed.
Hara reads the report to.
“How, do you think, we will stop them?”
He feels hollow. Gutted. I did my best Yamamoto , we did our best. But this war is beyond Bushido……….
“I do not know” the Admiral wearily answers. “ But I do know we cannot sustain this.
Bring the fleet about, we must return to Truk”
Author notes:
The war is a year old, and Cantona fights on, and on.
I followed just one strategy, normal conquest , KILL HIS CARRIERS
To my surprise, I have. But cantona is a superb opponent, playing fair, and we follow pretty well IRL “feel” to the game.
I have managed to muck up the economy, but its recovering (but I am scared to send Damiensan a turn cause he will whip me some more).
I have lost one capital ship so far, but over 3000 a/c to his 2600.
Fuel is my biggest issue.
Scene one, is bloody tuff, and I count myself incredibly lucky to be in this position
I thank everyone who has followed this first year, and I hope we can enjoy another one.
I am planning a huge full carrier sweep to Tarawa in jan 43, with the intention to smash all these bloody outposts cantona has seized.
I think IRL that’s what japan would do.
Again, thanks for following the little ship that certainly has. ( I must sit down and re read and see what her score is so far!)
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