1275psi
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Joined: 4/17/2005
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11 March 43
Fuchida rises early, 3 am, the Morning quiet and still very dark.
It is still, and he can hear, even from this range, the gentle hiss of the pacific lapping Lunga’s shores.
For a few minutes he stands, sniffing the air, the sweat sheen drying on his body.
Behind him, in the crude shelter they call a hut, snoring still emanates from his companions.
Then the cramps hit again, and he hustles to the ditch, and again groans as he explosively relieves the pain..
The air here is not nearly so sweet.
He is not the only one struck with honourable gastro.
Fuchida is careful at the latrine, here in this dark, it would be too easy to fall in.
A good laugh for his companions…….or maybe no , Too many die every week on this pig of an island from this curse.
Finished, he quietly re enters the hut, extracts his clothing, dresses quietly.
His flight gear is worn, tattered, stained. It is almost all he has in the world. His clothes, his comrades, his plane.
Men are working on his plane, three skinny characters, all but naked, the battered bird hidden under a canvas tarp , shield for the necessary lights.
He watches them, un observed for a few minutes, struck again by the dedication of these men to keep him flying. They are so like his Father, he thinks . The way they work about her, familiar, yet respectful,. Confident, assured .. And it strikes him. They are not attending his plane for him. Not now, not in this early morning hour. There is something more going on here. Something deeper that drives and motivates them.
Two of them are arm deep behind the great radial, the third holding a torch.
And he sees it . Just like his father. That steady determination, the occasional curse. Men Fixing machines. Men pouring their heart and soul into machines.
Men tacking the wheel of their life, and finding meaning, and purpose, in machines.
Machines that this war is consuming in the thousands…………………………
He makes a noise, so not to startle them, and enters the area. ‘Morning men”
The one with the torch comes to the attention, eliciting a curse from the others “For truck sake, hold the light!”
Fuchida smiles. “carry on” he nods ‘”is there a problem, and please don’t let me interrupt”
But this is japan, and he is an officer, so inevitably the two other men will retract from his planes innards, will salute, .
“You have a cracked oil line, number 11 cylinder”
‘’can you fix it?”
A stupid question. If they are anything like his father, not fixing it is unthinkable. “Hie!. “
Yes, they can.
Fuchida knows better than to continue to interrupt. But first……….
He digs about in his pocket. “A gift from Rabual”
A handful of boiled sweets.
A precious gift here, so far from home. But they will not be eaten today, for battle surely comes.
And if it comes, and death takes him, tomorrow they might be wasted
“38th Divisions first lift is loading sir, 12 APD’s, about 1200 men. The convoy is unloading, 3 Aks.”
‘And the battleships?”
‘In covering position”
‘And air cover?’
‘They will be busy sir, very. A dozen KI 44’s. No more. ‘
There is only one Japanese carrier active in the entire pacific this day. CVL Hiyo plys the waters to the north east of Lunga. So far, so good. According to the Americans, the entire Combined fleet waits in ambush .
How long could this deception be kept up?
Nagumo meets his captain at the gangway. “Well done”
Kaga’s Commander smiles wanely. ‘It was, as you would say, a hell of a trip”
Dark rings surround his eyes, two deep pits in a drawn and white face. “ For a while there………….”
‘the storm?’
‘yes, the storm,………………..was bad”
Both men turn to contemplate the great ship. She rests now, safe at last, on the dock blocks.
Water still pours from her great gash deep in her belly.
“I am afraid Admiral, that your favourite ship will be out of the fight for a long time. A very long time”
“How long?”
“300 days”
“300 days from one torpedo?”
‘yes. 300 truking days”
Tans dragon is getting bigger. And, the men to feed it, are getting fewer.
Although her arrival is totally secret, Kaga’s docking is immediately felt. Tan arrives to the morning, confident of getting this, and that done. The turbine lids are going to begin to be lifted today, first step in fitting new seals, new bearings, new , heck, new everything.
Instead, he encounters a dock master, who informs him that 20 of the forty men assigned today have been sent west ‘for urgent work”
But worse news follows. 3 boiler makers have been conscripted. The Army , it seems, needs more men. Skilled or not……………..
Charge has but one comment at the news.
‘It was madness for Japan to go to war I the first place. Do you think we will as a people suddenly find sanity? I am telling you Tan, this circus is just getting rolling…………….”
Five thousand feet.
7 KI44 circle the waters to the south of the green lump called Lunga, vague and indistinct in the morning mist.
Seven fighters, waiting for what must come.
They do not have to wait long.
Ohashi sees them, wings waggle violently, and he peels down and hard left.
Fuchida follows, seeking, seeking, seeing them. Short, blunt crosses, twin engines, …………mediums. B-25’s!
Coming in low, hard, fast………….
Ahead, Lunga roads, and the APDs, the beetle parades of boats…………….
47th swoop in………………
‘Extract from shattering the sword, a cantona production”
With Kaga out of action, Shokaku out of action, and Japanese carriers definitely identified off Lunga, the chance was too good to miss
The invasion of Kwajalein and the Marshall island chain swung into action. ………………
Kato hears the news, ironically, in Imperial Fleet HQ.
Ironically, because todays meeting is to gather and thrash out a new Fleet doctrine……..lessons learnt from 42, .
‘or how to oppose a enemy fleet landing’.
Doubly ironic, considering that the fleet lies alongside, crippled by self inflicted maintenance……
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