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Blamey coughed. “Prime Minister, we could defeat the four divisions the Japanese could put on our shores,” he said. “The battleground, near Darwin, has been almost completely evacuated, except for the military. There are no less than twelve divisions of ours there, four of them armoured, as well as the special units from Britain.”

“Four divisions is the worst case scenario,” Turtledove injected. “Despite all their attempts to extend the range of their air transports, we don’t believe that they will be able to pose a major threat to us, or to even provide a division with enough to fight for a day. The Japanese were noted for ignoring logistics, but if they can put more than four divisions across in a single wave, I will be astonished.”

“Once the Japanese first wave lands, and gets comfortable, they’ll send the ships back for more troops,” Blamey said, warming to his topic. “The fleet reloads and sets out again and…”

“And the submarines move in,” Turtledove said. “We have ten SSNs near Australia; I’ve called them all back except for the Trafalgar. The Japanese load up again, and set out, and we slaughter them.”

Blamey nodded. “In the meantime, we move in on the ground and throw them back into the sea,” he said. “We would have air support and the tanks from America; we’ll win with ease, hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Menzies said.

“In the very worst case, we’ll still cut the army off near Darwin and they won’t have anywhere to go,” Turtledove said. “They’re not going to conquer Australia with four divisions, are they?”

“What happens if they land elsewhere?” Menzies asked, thoughtfully. He had to admit that it sounded good, but it would be dangerous. “Like at Brisbane, or even New Zealand.”

“They can’t put too much stress on their equipment,” Turtledove said. “If they try to land on the east coast, their lines get longer and longer. If they do try for New Zealand, the submarines will kill them all before they even get close. No, if they have any sense at all, they’ll try to keep it simple and head for the north coast.”

Menzies scowled. “And where will you be when the battle is being fought?”

“Sinking the Japanese fleet,” Turtledove said. “I’ve ordered the Trafalgar to head north to Hashirajima, where the Japanese have based the carriers of the Combined Fleet. They’re assembling the fleet there, and the Trafalgar will watch developments from a safe distance.”

“Will it really be safe?” Atwell asked. The loss of an SSN – although the future British seemed certain that it had been mechanical failure rather than Japanese action – had dented RAN confidence in their new allies slightly. The survivors were in the United Kingdom, learning the ropes of their new SSKs, the non-nuclear submarines that would sweep Japan from the sea.

“We believe so,” Turtledove said. “We’ve thought about attacking the carriers there, but unless we get lucky, the bastards will be able to do unto us what the Americans did in 1941OTL; re-float the ships.” He chuckled. “In deep water, we will take our position with much of the fleet – except the submarines – and start firing from well outside their own range.”

“And that’s the end of the Japanese part in the war,” Menzies mused.

“The aggressive part in the war,” Turtledove said. “We will still have to roll them back, but once their fleet is gone, we can sweep them from the seas and stave them out if necessary.” He shrugged. “Perhaps they’ll see sense and surrender.”

“Not bloody likely,” Atwell muttered.

“The operation is approved,” Menzies said finally. “May God help us all.”

HIMS Yamato

Hashirajima, Japan

16th May 1941

The departure of a major fleet in three days is a difficult task at the best of times, but the Japanese Navy had developed the skill over nearly sixty years of modern warfare. Veterans from as far back as 1904 were drafted back into the service, assisting the handful of carriers and battleships to prepare for departure. Behind them, on the army compounds of Japan, young draftees drilled constantly, waiting for weapons and transport to one of the battlegrounds.

“I trust the plans are prepared,” Admiral Yamamoto said, without turning around. His eyes gazed over the preparations for war in the harbour, and a cold fear gripped at his heart. Not for himself, for he didn’t fear death, but for his people. He’d been able to convince the Army to start preparing defences in Japan itself, but there was so little time left to prepare. In a week, the fleet would be sunk… and then Japan would lie open to naval attack.

“Yes, sir,” Commander Sato said. “We have supplied ourselves with escorting oil tankers and transports, we could even effect a landing near Vancouver if we had the troops.”

“We won’t get anywhere near Vancouver,” Yamamoto snapped, scowling across the vision of powerful Japan. He knew that it was an illusion. “Commander Sato, we will be sunk midway between the two.”

“I have prepared plans for the battle,” Commander Sato said. “If we use the main guns, we might be able to knock down some of their… cruise missiles.”

Yamamoto’s eyes flickered with a new hope. He forced it down ruthlessly. “Then they send another, and another,” he said. “Our only hope is the new armour, and the new radar system from Germany.” He glared. “And as the British have shown themselves to be perfectly capable of jamming it whenever they choose, it’s not as useful as it seems.”

Commander Sato nodded grimly. “We have at least modified the sonar Jammer,” he said. “With some of the equipment that the Germans have sent, and some of the data they’ve supplied, we should be able to confuse their submarines.”

“It won’t be as useful as you think,” Yamamoto said, and he felt a new flicker of pain within his heart. “What about our own submarines?”

“We’ll have an escort, along with some of their tenders,” Commander Sato assured him. “They can seek out the enemy carriers and…”

“And get blown out of the water,” Yamamoto said. “We are in the position of using our bodies to hold back a machine gun, Commander Sato.”

Commander Sato bowed. “Hai,” he said. “Admiral, then why do we fight?”

Yamamoto chuckled bitterly. A new wave of bile rose up within his chest. “We have a duty to die for Japan,” he said. “We have a duty… Commander Sato; I was on the bridge of Admiral Togo’s ship when we defeated a European power for the first time, and…”

A strange dimness arose around his eyes. He was grimly aware, at the very edge of his perception, of Commander Sato’s cry of alarm. “And now we are threatened by barbarians with weapons out of those novels I used to read,” he said, and darkness swallowed him up. He never felt his body hit the deck.

* * *

Ambassador Yurina didn’t react openly as the Japanese commander, one of Yamamoto’s allies, gave her the news. Yamamoto had made it clear that she was his unofficial aide, and she was to be treated with all courtesy. Still, Japanese women were not expected to show emotion in this era, and she kept her face calm as Commander Sato reported that Yamamoto had been taken to the navy Hospital to have his stomach pumped to remove the poison.

“Admiral Chuichi Nagumo has taken command of the fleet,” Commander Sato reported. “I expect that the Admiral, and yourself, will remain in the anchorage.”

“He would have wanted to command the fleet,” Yurina said flatly.

“He can’t command in that state,” Commander Sato said nervously. “There are three battalions of Naval Infantry based here as well.”