Field Marshal Herrick hadn't expected the Wasserfall missiles to achieve much, but he'd expected at least a few kills. The performance information that was coming was also worrying him. If the bombers really had that sort of performance at that altitude, the fighters that got up there would be hard put to catch them. The raid plot was also worrying him. They had accurate course data now, the strange problems that had affected the long-range radars weren't affecting the higher-frequency Wurtzburgs. The main body was still too far back but the courses of the target marker groups were better defined. Each group of three seemed to be heading for a city, mostly in the eastern part of the country.
That made sense of course, if they were going to change course suddenly and converge on the real target, they'd want apparent targets a distance away so the turns would be less pronounced. There were some anomalies even there though. There was one group of nine aircraft that seemed to be on a course for Berlin, another of six heading for Munich. They'd probably be the first ones to swing to the real target. Also, they'd be coming under attack from the rocket fighters soon.
Herrick thought again about the performance estimates. Then the explanation hit him; it wasn't that the new bombers were unusually fast or agile, it was the Wasserfall crews were exaggerating their performance in order to explain their lack of success. The Me-163 and 263 fighters would be better placed to bring a few down. This raid did show things though. The high altitude fighters were needed again. They'd been bottom of the priority list for years now but this raid would put them back up. In the short term there were so few of them though.
Only the Gotha flying wings had real high altitude capability. Two groups were fully equipped with them, JG-1 and JG-52, both far away on the Russian front. JG-26 was in France but it had only one squadron of Go-229s and a small sub-strength unit of the old BV-155s. Rumor had it JG-26 didn't exist any more; they'd been wiped out by the latest series of carrier strikes. But, defending against the new bombers meant the two Go-229 groups in Russia were vital and he had to make sure that NAIAD controlled them. His deft sabotage of Himmler's attempt to grab a portion of the Luftwaffe had given a couple of markers from Goering to call in. He still had Himmler's support to get any high altitude fighters he needed and his little stab at Gal land would reduce opposition from that quarter.
Herrick looked back to the developing situation map. The leading line of the American raid was well over the border now and the groups that followed it were crossing. The big cloud that represented the main body was getting close and, at last, some detail as available. Odd, each group there, the ones that were accurately plotted anyway, was also on a direct course for a German city. Well, they'd all turn for a major city soon, whatever the real target was. Essen and its steel plants, Herrick thought, that was the most likely one. Or perhaps the aircraft plants at Regensburg. Something was nagging at the back of his mind though, something from a meeting a long time ago, something about a cat?
Admiral's Bridge, USS Shiloh, CVB-41 Position 46.8 North, 4.6 West
Shiloh was dead in the water. A few minutes ago, the crew had been forced to abandon the CIC and the forward machinery spaces. Too much heat, too much smoke, too much fire. That had made the decision to transfer flag inevitable. Admiral Newman was now on board Puerto Rico, he was leaving Shiloh, Samoa and two cruisers to help fight the fires while he carried on operations with the rest of TG-57.2. Captain Madrick realized he'd been making a mistake recently; he'd thought running the ship from CIC and putting the Admiral on the bridge would ensure he could do least harm. Now, he realized putting the Admiral on a different ship entirely was even better. Then, an idea burst on him with astounding clarity, this concept could be taken a stage further. Suppose they put all the Admirals in a different navy?
Kittyhawk had arrived on the scene now, she was well away to starboard, well clear of the smoke and any danger of explosions. Her Bearcats were circling overhead as CAP while her helicopters were lifting the most seriously wounded directly over to her medical ward where surgeons were waiting. Madrick hadn't seen the HO3s used this way before. They had a capacity for four people, this time they were flying with a pilot, a corpsman and two stretcher patients. They were needed, the last explosion had caused still more casualties. Those helicopters couldn't handle the mass of casualties though, they were for the worst and most urgent cases. They had to get a cruiser alongside to cross-deck the rest. That would be Fargo, she was moving in now. About 15 men had been blown over the side from the aft anti-aircraft mountings, they had been picked up by the destroyers. Susan B Anthony, known to her crew as The Unwanted Buck for reasons that defied logical explanation, was in position there by the carrier's aft quarter.
“As a matter of fact sir, we're doing pretty well.” It was the damage control officer, Howarth. “We've driven the fire on the hangar deck back to the starboard quarter and contained it there. It's being subdued now and we expect to have it out shortly. Below decks, we've driven the main fire back to its original starting line. The fire crews are going to start re-entering the galleys, scullery and bakery shortly. Samoa has been working backwards sir, pouring huge amounts of water into our hull, that's why we're listing. But they opened the way for the damage control teams and we've regained about a third of the burned-out area.
'“At present, there is no danger to the ship sir, we are intact below the waterline and the pumps have the fire-water flooding under control. Our real problem is heat and smoke. The temperature in the forward machinery spaces had hit 165 degrees when they were abandoned and you remember what the CIC was like.
“Smoke is terrible sir. We have to make that clear in our 'Lessons Learned'. We must give the crews more breathing gear, much more. Even up here, we've got problems. Samoa tried to hose the island down but she doesn't have the pressure to do it.”
Howarth thought carefully for a moment “My real worry is the ammunition stores and fuel spaces. The temperature below decks is deadly and its rising in all the magazine and tank spaces. We caught between a rock and a hard place there. The fire is contained below decks with limited ventilation. Its acting like a furnace, its burning very hot but slow. If we open up the ship, we'll remove that risk but the influx of oxygen will cause all the fires to flare up and we'll lose everything we've gained. I recommend we keep the ship sealed up, the temperature issue is bad but its controllable, but if the fires get a full air supply, we could be in a world of hurt.
Captain's Bridge, USS Far go, CL-106 Position 46.8 North, 4.6 West
The problem with having a name like Mahan was that people kept expecting you to be some sort of strategic genius. They just wouldn't leave you alone to drive cruisers which was all any true sailorman wanted to do. Cans were too small, you spent all your life running around after other people. Battleships were nothing more than glorified office blocks these days and carriers were small moving cities. But cruisers were just right.