1943 (Kirov Series Book 27) Page 16

  “Why was it aloud to proceed?”

  “Frankly, it came as a surprise to us all. We knew the Americans had relieved their Marines with Army troops, but did not expect they would use them in an offensive action again so soon. Now Efate is under threat of enemy occupation, and yes, it will require hard fighting Japanese troops to prevent that. Unfortunately, both Soryu and Kaga took damage in the recent action, and so this left our 1st Carrier Division with little striking power. It was therefore necessary to redeploy those ships here to Rabaul to begin repairs immediately, and to replenish the air wings, which were badly depleted in the recent engagement with the enemy.”

  “Admiral, sir,” came another voice, low and gruff. It was Admiral Chuichi Hara, the bull necked man the navy had come to call ‘King Kong.’ He had been listening quietly from his seat at the far end of the table, but now he was compelled to speak.

  “My 3rd Carrier Division was not engaged in the recent action, and Akagi was not damaged from Nagumo’s 1st Division. Why not permit me the honor of settling this matter, at least from the standpoint of the Navy. Simply transfer Tosa and Akagi to my division, and I will deal with the Americans.”

  Yamamoto smiled, nodding appreciatively. Thus far, Hara had been the Navy’s most reliable carrier commander. He had 5th Division at Pearl Harbor, fought well in the Java Sea operations, and most recently, he had conducted the very successful Indian Ocean Operation that delivered the ripened fruit of Ceylon to the Empire. What Hara set his mind to do, was as good as finished, and Yamamoto had invited him to this meeting for precisely the action he now proposed.

  “Admiral Hara,” said Yamamoto, “I would be honored if you would undertake this mission, as long as you bear in mind that we will not have Soryu back for two weeks, and Kaga for another month. Under these circumstances, I cannot afford to lose another fleet carrier, even if we were to sink two such ships on the enemy side in exchange. The production capability of our enemy is not something we can underestimate ever again. Look how they have already replaced all the carriers we sunk last year, even giving them the same names, as if to taunt us. We cannot hope to keep pace with them if they continue to build ships this quickly, so if we fight, we must be very skilled, and win without losing.”

  Win without losing—in that twisted phrase, the Admiral had placed his finger clearly on the heart of the matter. Japan could not afford further losses to her hard-pressed Navy, even in victory.

  “Admiral,” said Hara. “If you allow me to strike, I can guarantee you that we will win, and the enemy will do the losing.”

  Yamamoto was silent for a time, then he nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Tosa and Akagi will be transferred to 3rd Carrier Division with all available strike planes. Admiral Ugaki, will you see the proper orders are given?”

  Ugaki offered a shallow bow in confirmation, and Yamamoto detailed the operation he envisioned. “Muster near the American held island of Ndeni, but not close enough for their coast watchers to spot you. Reconnoiter the airfield, as we believe many enemy planes may have been diverted there after that last engagement. Strike that airfield, then move south to destroy the American invasion convoy. This will clear the way for us to move additional forces to Efate. I think we can all agree that island must be contested, neh?”

  Everyone was in agreement. Efate flanked Noumea, and if it fell, it would put enemy fighters within range of Noumea and Luganville on Espiritu Santo, and offer the enemy a base from which they could attack either of those outposts. Efate was the center of the board in this chess game, and Yamamoto was still impressed with the boldness the Americans had shown.

  “I might remind you that this Admiral Halsey has returned—the ‘Fighting Admiral,’ or so he is called in the American newspapers. He was able to beat Nagumo when our 1st Carrier Division engaged him last week. The Americans have three new fleet carriers, and new planes as well, particularly the new fighter they call the Hellcat, which our pilots say is very good. So, we will try again, as we must, and send our own Fighting Admiral—King Kong.”

  Hara smiled, bowing his head appreciatively.

  “Yet I have not yet heard an answer from General Imamura concerning the overall strategic situation. Should we continue to leave two full divisions, and two additional regiments on Fiji? Are we overextended?”

  “Are you suggesting we withdraw?” Imamura finally used the word, just as Yamamoto had in his discussion with Ugaki.

  “I suggest nothing. I ask the Army’s opinion of the situation. Is that where you wish to fight? Is Fiji to be the all or nothing turning point of this war?”

  “The army is already there. Moving it elsewhere would be… problematic.”

  “Perhaps, but if you felt the need to redeploy to the New Hebrides to reinforce the French garrisons, the Navy would do whatever was necessary to see that was carried our satisfactorily.”

  “I could not contemplate such a redeployment without the approval of the Imperial General Staff, and perhaps even that of the Emperor himself.”

  In all this inquiry, Imamura said nothing of what he had shared with 17th Army Commander Hyakutake. Things were afoot that would soon bring considerably more Army troops to the South Pacific, but he did not wish to disclose this until that was confirmed and announced by Imperial General Headquarters. Yet Imamura was not being entirely truthful. The arrival dates for units being transferred from China were uncertain. In the meantime, the situation required… Flexibility. He would later make a quiet request to Yamamoto that fast destroyers be made available in order to redeploy certain units to New Caledonia and better balance his overall force structure.

  “I see… Of course,” said Yamamoto. “However, unless and until you deem it necessary to seek permission for a larger redeployment, I must assume that you are wholeheartedly committed to the Fiji operation. That being the case, General, can you be as direct as Admiral Hara here and promise the Emperor a victory?”

  “I can promise him we will do all in our power to achieve that—even if it means we fight to the last man.”

  Yamamoto did not like the sound of that. “I asked Admiral Hara to win without losing,” he said, “yet to fight to the last man would surely be to lose without winning. It may sound honorable and brave, but in the end, it is nothing more than seppuku. If we lose all those troops on Fiji, what then? Is the 20th Division enough to hold the New Hebrides, New Caledonia, Tulagi, Buin, Buka, the Shortlands, and all the rest? Surely we must find a different way of pleasing our Emperor.”

  “Admiral,” said Imamura. “I would no sooner see the 38th and 48th Divisions lost in battle as you would welcome the loss of two more fleet carriers. Yet there we are, and there we fight. I will raise the question of the wisdom of holding Fiji with the Imperial General Staff, and they will decide the matter, not I.”

  “Well enough,” said Yamamoto, “but realize time is a factor here. Perhaps Admiral Hara can buy us that, but I think it wise if the General Staff reaches a decision before the end of this month.”

  The meeting adjourned and Hara was up and eager to get to his flagship, Japan’s newest carrier, Taiho. He had worked the bugs out of the ship in that long Indian Ocean campaign, now it was a lean and well run ship, in good fighting trim, and he intended to do exactly that—fight. They saw General Imamura out, and then Yamamoto pulled Hara aside.

  “Kong,” he said. “Your mission to Ceylon was superb, and now I put what is left of the fleet in your hands. Be cautious, but realize also that we must kill our enemy, not merely dissuade him from engaging us. Yet we cannot afford more losses. Can you do this? Can you win without losing?”

  Hara simply smiled at him, the gleam of battle in his eye. Then he bowed respectfully, and strode out, fixing his officer’s cap firmly on his big round head as he went.

  Chapter 18

  “Admiral,” said Ugaki when the others had departed. “As to the matter of ship production. Do you recall that we asked Nagano to initiate Phase II of the Shadow Fleet program last May?”


  “Of course,” said Yamamoto.

  “Well, I have recently received a communication from Admiral Nagano, and I am pleased to report that the Gunreibu has authorized the release of all Phase II ships presently available.” The Gunreibu was the Imperial General Staff of the Navy, led by Admiral Osami Nagano, who also had a seat at the table of the Imperial General Headquarters.

  “You are certain of this?”

  “Yes sir, they were assembled at Sasebo and Kobe last week, and I am now told they have left Japan to report to our Combined Fleet Headquarters at Truk.”

  That raised an eyebrow, for it was the first that Yamamoto had heard of the matter. He had assumed the key components of that building program were at least six months from nearing completion. “You mean to say the ships are ready? I knew they were commissioned, but far from being delivered for operational use. I have not had a single report on this.”

  “Because none have been written,” said Ugaki. “I am honored to make this first report to you personally. Given the urgency of the situation, Admiral Nagano has decided that the normal sea trials will be conducted with the ships already registered to the active duty rolls. He has every faith that we can handle the breaking in period in the course of regular operations. They will begin intensive training during the journey south from Japan.”

  “I see… You say all the Phase II ships?”

  “Except Shirane and Mikasa. They will still need a few more months fitting out. But we have all the other carrier conversions at sea—this very moment.”

  “Empty shells,” said Yamamoto. “Two days ago we were looking for any strike bomber we could find to recover recent losses. What good will these ships do us if they have no planes?”

  “That is what I first believed, but Nagano has held Naval air squadrons in reserve for those ships at Sasebo. I am told they will arrive with all air wings assigned, and at full strength, with the ships fully provisioned.”

  That got Yamamoto’s attention. He knew that there were other power centers in the Navy, chiefly around Nagano at the highest levels, and that they could exert a good deal of influence over aircraft production and squadron deployment. He also knew that the trainers had been very busy in the home islands, for new planes were promised, though only a very few ever reached the fleet. When Taiho was commissioned, that ship came with the addition of the new D4Y Dive Bomber, and B6M Torpedo Bomber. Hara had very good things to say about their performance in the Indian Ocean. If these new ships all had full air wings….

  “What ships have been released?” Yamamoto felt his pulse rise, the unexpected windfall of this moment akin to the feeling he experienced when he first set foot on the destroyer Takami.

  “Two light escort carriers from the Gozo Class Conversion project, Kaya and Kiryu, then two more from the larger Kami Class, Okami and Kitsune. These are the escort carriers, but the best news of all is that two dragons have put to sea as well. Both the battle carrier conversions have also been delivered to the fleet early, the ships built on the Kii Class hulls, Kinryu and Ryujin. The whole lot are out to sea, and Nagano has included the two new battlecruisers, Amagi and Kagami, and five of our newest Destroyer Escorts—a full division!”

  “This is most heartening news,” said Yamamoto. “You say they all have new planes?”

  “One hundred and ninety-eight, to be precise. Many have the new A6M3, Model 22, and there will be many new D4Y Dive Bombers, along with the new Tenzan B6M. It passed carrier acceptance trials last year.”

  “Amazing,” said Yamamoto. “Here we were scrounging to dig up any carrier capable strike plane we could get our hands on, and all the while Nagano sat on his nest of eggs, saying nothing. Now he releases the entire Phase II program ships, and without even a whisper to me concerning the matter.”

  “I must admit that I interceded on your behalf,” said Ugaki, and Yamamoto heard more in that than he wished. The man was too headstrong at times. What had he said to Nagano? He turned his head.

  “Explain.”

  “I was able to convince Admiral Nagano of the necessity of maintaining our advantage in carrier operations. With all these new American ships being deployed, we had to take expedient measures to stay on top. He agreed, but there was one thing he required to sign this order.”

  “And what was that?”

  “The destroyer,” said Ugaki. “Just a single ship. Nagano wants it to deploy to Yokohama. He wishes to tour the ship himself personally.”

  “Takami? I gave you specific orders that it was not to be discussed with the Imperial Naval General Staff.”

  “Yes, and those orders were obeyed. I made no mention of it at all, but it appears that Admiral Nagano is more resourceful than we thought. He already knew of Takami, and requested this personally, and as a condition concerning the orders he has just signed on these Phase II ships.”

  Yamamoto took a deep breath. “I suppose this was inevitable,” he said. “The Kempeitai have men everywhere. From the moment those first rockets were fired at Davao, it was certain that the existence of this ship would become known. I trust Nagano will be discreet, and I certainly hope he has no ideas about inviting the Emperor aboard that ship!”

  “Nagano is a man we can trust,” said Ugaki. “Besides, shouldn’t the Emperor know about Takami?”

  Yamamoto smiled. “Admiral Ugaki, the two of us have walked that deck, seen all the strange equipment on that ship, watched its rocket weapons fire, and spent hours with its chief officers. And yet we still have difficulty believing such a ship could exist, let alone the story that came with it—that these men come from our own far flung future. How could we ever explain this to the Emperor? If Nagano gets his hands on that ship, then the entire General Headquarters will know about it.”

  “I would assume that is already the case.”

  “They may have heard the rumors,” said Yamamoto, “or even read reports, but that is one thing—seeing that ship first hand is quite another. They will not understand, and they would certainly not believe the story we were told by Harada and Fukada. What they will believe is this—that the ship is a top-secret prototype that has been kept from their knowledge, just as Nagano husbanded the resources of the Shadow Fleet. They will then assume that all these weapons, these radar sets and rockets, are actually in development, and then they will stop at nothing to find out where they are being produced.”

  “But this will lead them nowhere,” said Ugaki.

  “Precisely, and that creates another enormous problem. They will look for the factories, the warehouses, the designers, but find nothing. Their suspicion will increase with every day that passes, and fingers will be pointed in all directions. Then the Army will learn about all of this, and they will think the Navy has deliberately held back this technology and weaponry.”

  “That was inevitable,” said Ugaki. “In fact, I believe it may be well under way. I have learned from this Executive Officer, Fukada, that Nishimura invited them to dine with him when Takami arrived at Singapore.”

  “That was not wise.”

  “Yes, but how could they refuse? Needless to say, our signals intelligence unit intercepted a friendly communication sent to Imperial General Headquarters shortly after that dinner.”

  “Then Nishimura is spying for the Army?”

  “At the very least. He is Tojo’s rat, and I have little doubt that our Prime Minister has been well informed.”

  “Yet he has said nothing, at least not to me.” Yamamoto was deeply concerned about all of this. He shrugged, clearly unhappy. “I will reiterate my order that nothing should be revealed about this ship, or what we have also learned about Mizuchi—even if you are asked directly by a man as highly placed as Nagano. Play the ignorant subordinate if you must, but say nothing. Simply refer the inquiry to me. Sooner or later, this will come to the attention of the Emperor, and then all the senior officers will be called to account—including Tojo. Now… Do you wish to explain this to His Majesty? If not, learn when and when not to speak!”

/>   Ugaki was silent.

  * * *

  “It doesn’t make sense,” said Fedorov. He had been huddling with Nikolin and pouring over recent signals intercepts. The Japanese Naval code had been changed, but the considerable computing resources aboard Kirov had made short work of it, a feat that would have amazed a man like Joe Rochefort at Station HYPO, or Alan Turing at Bletchley Park. “You are certain of the translations?”

  “As far as I can be, sir,” said Nikolin. “I even ran them by Ensign Omi last night to be sure.

  “Golden Dragon…” said Fedorov. “Dragon God…” Those must refer to aircraft carriers. Japanese ship naming conventions are very predictable. The last two dragons were Hiryu and Soryu, which translate as Flying Dragon and Blue Dragon. Now we have two names on the airwaves that never existed, Kinryu and Ryujin. Yet my guess is that these must be new aircraft carriers, something this history has spawned that we couldn’t anticipate. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Nothing in the history of the Pacific War has repeated after Pearl Harbor, and even that battle was quite different from the historical attack.”

  Karpov overheard their conversation and drifted over. The two men had come to a new understanding after Fedorov’s mission to Ilanskiy in 1908. They had managed to put aside their inherent opposition to one another, and see that together they were much stronger than they could hope to be as adversaries. In fact, Karpov made a direct apology to Fedorov for the missile incident, and the two men shook hands on the matter and put it all behind them. They realized that what was before them was of supreme importance—the war, the strange new unfolding of this history, the prospect of an Axis victory that was still a very real possibility. The winds of war had been shifting, in Russia, North Africa and now in the Pacific as the Americans received new reinforcements and began to hit back. Yet all was still at risk in the swirling gyre of these events.