Knight's Move (Kirov Series Book 21) Page 21

  “Well enough,” said Karpov, “but when you are done with that, you might consider offering more pertinent advice.”

  Fedorov thought for a moment, then turned, folding his arms. “Time to move,” he said quietly. “Our amphibious landing operations are over. We have very little open sea left in the Sea of Okhotsk. When they come north, we’ll be bottled up here if we don’t find more sea room. Get the ship to the Pacific—now—before they have time to organize.”

  Karpov nodded slowly. It was sound advice, but the tone in Fedorov’s voice made it more than that. His Navigator was giving him a warning.

  Chapter 24

  Shaken by this heavy blow, the Japanese navy was at a loss as to how to proceed, like a boxer stunned in the opening round with a heavy punch. No one really knew what had happened, but by the time the reports filtered up to command level, they began to realize that this must have been yet another rocket attack, by the same ship, and with the same dreadful weapons that had struck at the Kido Butai. It was only now that the true measure of the threat the Siberians represented was beginning to register in Tokyo, at General Headquarters of the Combined fleet, now aboard the battleship Yamato as it was heading out to sea.

  Yamamoto got the news, his brow furrowed, eyes dark, and with a strange light of presentiment in them. It was as if he were seeing something in that report that was not written there in the boldly typed script. For the briefest moment, the image of a wild thing at sea came to him, a shadow of a memory, or a nightmare. He had been in the heart of a massive castle of steel—like this very ship around him—and yet he kept hearing the thunder and roar of heavy blows against those walls and towers. Then fire… awful fire and choking black smoke… the dreadful glow of the flames on the sea… and then it was gone.

  It was an old memory, and something new. It was a distant recollection of a battle he had fought in his youth, near Tushima Straits, against a sea demon that had vanish without the slightest trace. And at the same time it was something impending, something very close, another great battle, and though he knew the notion was ludicrous, he could not shake the feeling that it had been fought with this very ship. Could he be merely anticipating the inevitable result of these events, the inexorable sucking gravity of this war that would pull his ship into that nightmare like a maelstrom?

  He cleared his thoughts, shaking the memory from his mind. There was a strange echo in these events, for that battle, fought with Yamato, had then been followed by that dogged pursuit by Chikuma’s sister ship Tone, and the incredible event that saw that ship nearly plunge right into the heart of Kirov. That day and hour, later in 1942, had not yet come in this meridian, might never come now as Kirov’s persistent presence continued to rewrite the history.

  Yet that hour was close at hand, and it was almost as if Yamamoto could feel it, sense it, perceive it on some inner level, though he could not clarify any of this in his mind. The report of the fate of Mutsu and Chikuma seemed a foreshock to events that had not yet happened, darkening his mind like a threatening shadow. There was a warning in this report, something that sent his pulse rising. He had heard the legends that Nagumo shared with him, heard the name Mizuchi whispered by the men in the lower ranks. He could believe nothing of that, but he could feel some grim reality in this report. It was a harbinger, an omen, a herald of unseen danger ahead, not for himself, but for the navy he commanded, and for his nation.

  A battleship, and a heavy cruiser…. Such a loss, and so suddenly, so unexpectedly. That it had come at the hands of the Siberians was an outrage, and now he would be forced to answer it. Now the fleet would be forced to turn about and confront this new foe, and all while the Southern Offensive was still under way, still expanding outward into the South Pacific like the shock wave from a great explosion.

  He considered what to do, noting what ships would now be available. Clearly the Siberians had a powerful warship at their disposal. Such a ship had been found by the Germans at Nikolayev when they captured that great naval port in southern Ukraine, the Sovietskaya Ukrania, nearly complete. Could they have built another similar warship, and then sent it into the Pacific by the northern route? It was from that direction that Nagumo’s carriers were first attacked….

  What to do? The immediate situation for the Army on Kamchatka is now regrettable. I cannot send a convoy of the 73rd Infantry north to Kazantochi as planned, not with this enemy warship at large. It must be found and destroyed, but by the time we do so it is likely the garrison on the main peninsula will be defeated. The Army will blame the Navy, of course, for failing to prevent the landing of the enemy troops that defeated them. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters now is that this enemy exists as a proven threat. The Siberians can no longer be laughed off, and ignored. They must be crushed.

  His mind now turned to the ships, the long steel hulls of the battleships and cruisers, the sweeping flat decks of the carriers, the mad frothing rush of the destroyers—the fleet. A task force will not do now. I must send a much stronger battlegroup. Yet here I am, sailing south to take up command at Truk. Who can I send?

  His mind ran down the list of names. Who was available? Rear Admiral Kurita… Yes, Takeo Kurita has the 7th Cruiser Division now, and he was poised to operate in the Indian Ocean. I have canceled Nagumo’s carrier raid there, which will mean that Kurita will be available, a most capable man. Yet a cruiser division will certainly not suffice. We will need a real show of force this time, with strong carrier based air support, and the Army will have to transfer aircraft in as well. We will have to darken the skies over the Sea of Okhotsk, fog or no fog. The ice free zone there is very restricted in winter. If this ship retreats to Magadan, then we will have the genie in a bottle. But I will have to send a wall of steel to drive it there, just as Admiral Togo deployed the full might of our navy at Tushima, and at Oki Island…

  Nagumo has already gone on ahead with 5th Carrier Division for Operation R against Rabaul. Kaga and Akagi are both in the docks for their planned refit. That leaves only Soryu in home waters, and Tosa now joins her to reconstitute Carrier Division 2. Those ships will have to provide the carrier support.

  There was still a good deal of strength left in the Inland Sea. Nagato is there, and would most likely be eager to avenge the insult to her sister ship. Musashi is there, sitting like a steel fortress at Hashirajima, more a symbol of our power than anything else now. I would have to obtain the permission of the Emperor to use it, as that ship has been formally designated the Emperor’s Flagship now that I have taken Yamato to sea. Making such a request would be awkward, to say the least, and it would have to be done in person, so Musashi stays where it is for now.

  There are plenty of cruisers and destroyers available. I could also recall Satsuma and Hiraga, our newest fast battleships, though I hesitate to do so. Those ships were built to run with our carriers. I’ll want them in the Solomons…. Ise and Fuso could be recalled, as their work in supporting landing operations has been concluded. So that will be the order. I will build a new Northern Fleet, with the nucleus being those three battleships and Carrier Division 2. Kurita can plant his flag on Nagato or one of the carriers if he so chooses, and he can have the pick of the litter when it comes to the cruisers and destroyers.

  So… What are the strategic consequences of this opening move by the Siberians? They will likely take Kazantochi, and by so doing gain a port on the Pacific. At the moment, Magadan is their principal naval operating base and it is deep within the Sea of Okhotsk. Any line of communications by sea to Kazantochi must run right through the Kuriles, where we could easily interdict and destroy it. So the only way the enemy will be able to supply Kazantochi is with that airship fleet they possess. I must admit, those old Zeppelins have proven much more useful than they ever were in the first war. That said, they create a very limited supply line to that port. So I do not anticipate a major threat from there any time soon, unless…

  What about the Americans? They might be very interested in that port as a base, p
articularly for its airfields. They could attempt to supply that place by sea, and would have the means to do so. Look what they are already doing to support the Soviets through Murmansk. Yet they do not control the lower Aleutians, and if we move quickly to establish a strong base there, the air power could serve us well. So this means the first counter move against the Siberians will be to launch an offensive into the Aleutians. I can support that with one of the light carrier divisions, and use the newly formed Marine Amphibious Brigades.

  Next we have Karafuto, Sakhalin Island. The entire northern half is presently locked in the cold embrace of sea ice. So I do not expect anything more than a token intervention by the enemy there, as nothing can come by sea. Again, his airships prove useful, but they can only lift so much—enough to disrupt the oil exploration operations underway there in the north, and that could be a problem. So we will send troops available in Hokkaido to southern Karafuto. The new rail lines we have built there will be most effective in moving them north. What happens along the Amur River further inland will be up to the Army.

  Very well, resolution of the Siberian issue will be up to Kurita. I will then continue with Operation R into the Bismarck Archipelago and Solomons, and we will continue to support the next phase of the planned offensive into the Dutch holdings on Sumatra and Java. Thankfully, the navy we have built is strong enough to respond to this new challenge. Pearl Harbor has bought us time, nothing more. Soon my main worry will not be the great bear to our north, but the eagle in the east, America. That is where our war will either be won or lost….

  * * *

  The Siberians continued to press their relentless attack at Kazantochi, struggling now to overcome the old fortifications they themselves had built to protect that place. At one point, an entire regiment was thrown at Fort Avacha at the north end of the city, and took nearly 30% casualties under Japanese artillery, supported by some timely naval gunfire from a few destroyers that had been in the bay. The old stone ramparts were also manned by unmovable Japanese troops. Trench lines were dug in the hard cold ground, and the action took on the flavor of the battle for Port Arthur, when the Japanese infantry took that at great price in blood from the Russians. The Siberians rushed these old fortified positions, but they would simply not yield, even after successive attacks by much superior numbers.

  The airships tried to stand off and use their 105mm recoilless rifles against that small naval flotilla in the bay, but the dual purpose batteries on the destroyers simply outranged those rifles, and made any approach close enough to hit the enemy a very dangerous proposition. Abakan was damaged and forced to withdraw, and so the presence of these few steel warships in the bay had effectively neutralized the Russian airship division’s presence over the harbor.

  Two battalions of artillery in the Russian 92nd Division tried to reduce the fort, but without success, so the Siberians decided to simply bypass that strongpoint, taking to the high slopes of the imposing Mount Sorka volcano, and edging east to attack the city from that direction. Unable to be everywhere in sufficient strength, the Japanese could not stop the Siberians from eventually breaking through. The tough ski troops assembled, then made massive infantry attacks that swept down the slopes of Mt. Sorka like an avalanche, pushing into the town. There they were met by stubborn groups of Japanese infantry, fighting house to house.

  Had the Japanese simply held in the buildings and cellars, they could have made a mini-Stalingrad out of the battle. Yet as the defense wore thinner and thinner, the increasingly desperate situation led the Japanese Sergeants to muster what little troops they had left and launch suicidal banzai charges. With the enemy already behind them in the city, the defenders of Fort Avacha fixed bayonets and came charging into the Siberian machineguns.

  In all this action, Troyak and his Marines acted as a kind of storm group. They methodically advanced on the coastal fortifications at Dolinovka, east of the port, and the Black Death combined the suppressive firepower of their assault rifles and the precision targeting and penetrating power of the Koronet ATGM to reduce key enemy strongpoints. Then the stolid Siberian infantry would mount a battalion strength assault and carry the position.

  Colonel Ozawa reported the situation to 91st Division commander, and though he was prepared to die there, he was ordered to embark as many troops as possible and return to Shumushu Island to the south. Six battalions had been under his command, but no more than two battalions made it safely south. All the rest died where they stood in those last hours, leaving much of the city a blazing wreck.

  When Karpov learned of the casualties his divisions had taken to secure Petropavlovsk, he grimaced, then took a long breath. “What you have said about the fighting character of the Japanese is now made clear to me,” he said to Fedorov.

  “Yes sir, they will be tenacious and fierce opponents. Consider what just happened. We had the element of surprise, air mobility, overland speed with our ski troops, and yet when it came down to it, it was hand to hand in the streets of Petropavlovsk.”

  “And that is what the place will be called again,” said Karpov. “I ordered every sign of Japanese occupation eradicated. Mitsunami Airfield is now Mokhovaya again, and Uji Airfield is now Zavoko. That is the way it will remain.”

  “What if they counterattack?” said Fedorov. “What if they persist and move troops there by sea? Those waters won’t ice over, and Kirov cannot be everywhere. We can’t sit there watching that sea route indefinitely.”

  “They will have to bring at least a full division by sea to retake that harbor from us now,” said Karpov. “I will have the entrance to the bay mined in 24 hours, “Yes, they could try a landing, but I do not think the Japanese will send the force required to retake this place here any time soon. We paid a high price in blood for it, but Petropavlovsk is ours, and with it, we now have de facto control of Kamchatka, whether the Japanese know it or not. Now I will have a port on the Pacific in the spring, and with Kirov, the means to defend it.”

  Fedorov nodded, seeing the strategy Karpov was slowly working to bring about. He struck in the dead of winter, yes, the Siberians were always better then. He took the one place that had to be held to lay claim to that vast peninsula, and that was all that mattered. It was his now, and in spite of fears concerning what might lay ahead, Fedorov had an inner hunch that this first small victory was going to matter a very great deal.

  Kamchatka had fallen, but now the battle for Sakhalin would begin, and there the Japanese would soon come to see that desolate northern land as more vital to their security than any of the distant islands they were now seizing with their Naval Marines. Yamashita would arrive, flying directly to Khabarovsk to assess the situation and gather intelligence on what the Siberians were doing. And then the Tiger of Malaya would soon become the white, striped death of a Siberian Tiger, for Karpov’s war had only just begun.

  Part IX

  Knight’s Move

  “Mankind accepts good fortune as his due, but when bad occurs, he thinks it was aimed at him, done to him, a hex, a curse, a punishment by his deity for some transgression, as though his god were a petty storekeeper, counting up the day's receipts.”

  ― Sheri S. Tepper, The Visitor

  Chapter 25

  Boston Navy Yard was a busy place just before the war broke out in the Pacific. A number of new ships were scheduled to launch, and among them was a new Gleaves Class destroyer. She was lined up on the slipway about four months earlier than in Fedorov’s history, ready to taste the champagne and sea for the first time. The usual crowd of onlookers were present, friends and family of all the men and women who had a hand in building the ship, and the few dignitaries standing up on the high platform rising to kiss her bow.

  The Gleaves Class would be the successor to the older Benson class, looking almost identical to those ships. At 1,630 tons, the ships were fast at 37 knots, and hardy at sea, with a range of 6500 nautical miles that was good enough to send them to the vast Pacific. They mounted four single 5-inch guns, two forw
ard and two aft, and ten 21-inch torpedo tubes amidships between a pair of stovepipe stacks that were just slightly inclined from the vertical. They also had a pair of depth charge racks aft, making them a good all purpose sheep dog and escort ship for fleets and convoys. Many things learned by the Gleaves class at sea would help make its successor, the Fletcher Class, the most successful destroyer class ever built.

  This particular ship was late in the series, the 54th of a total of 66 that would be built in the class, designated DD-633. Only 11 ships of that total would be sunk in the war, and in Fedorov’s history, this particular ship would be lucky enough to survive unscathed, finally being sunk as a target ship off San Diego in 1967. For now, that ignominious moment before a firing squad from the nation the ship so ably served was decades away. The ship was fresh and new, untried, untested, the rivets in her hull plating barely gleaming with fresh paint.

  Up on the high platform, the ship's sponsors were gathered for the launching ceremonies, Rear Admiral W. T. Tarrant, the Commandant of the Boston Navy Yard, and a young fresh faced woman, Miss Elizabeth Harwood Royal, the granddaughter of the Admiral this ship would be named for. Young and pretty beneath her light lace veil, Miss Harwood stood with her bouquet of flowers beside the Admiral, her smile lighting up the moment. They posed for photos, and then when it came time to swing that bottle of champagne, she gave it a solid knock, right at the 6 fathom line, and sent the effervescent white foam awash across that bow. From that moment on, it would be the white foam of the sea there, for this ship was to have a most unusual twist in its life line, and all because of the man she was named for.