Flag Bridge, HIJMS Musashi, South China Sea.
Admiral Idzumo's follow-up message hit Admiral Soriva like a kidney punch. Two destroyers collided, Shokaku torpedoed. That meant that four of Idzumo's six destroyers were out of action and both carriers had been hit. What sort of battle was going on back there? The submarines he'd run into had taken out more than two thirds of his screen and it was only by the luck of the Gods that the carriers weren't sinking. This action wasn't a happenstance convoy skirmish, this was turning into a full-blooded naval battle. But that raised another question. Why hadn't the Americans simply blown him out of the water? Without fighter cover he was helpless against those bombers. There was something he was missing, something very important.
“Sir another message from Admiral Idzumo.”
Soriva took the flimsy and read it. Suddenly, light burst into his head and he felt the deepest shame and mortification of his career. He'd been mentally savaging Idzumo for his conduct with the carriers and now Idzumo sends this message. 'Have outrun enemy ambush. One enemy submarine sunk. Am readying air strike. What is position of second enemy carrier group?' This was the missing piece of the puzzle.
Idzumo had detected a second carrier group waiting in ambush. Instead of playing it safe and leaving Soriva to save himself, he'd bulled his way through the ambush so he could get clear and launch a strike to protect the battleships. He'd risked his life and career, not to mention his command, to save the battleships. Mentally Soriva apologized to his fellow Admiral for the injustices he'd been thinking. The man had acted like a true warrior and Soriva had cursed him for it.
Then another light came on and Soriva at last understood the situation. The battleships weren't the target of the second carrier group. He'd made the traditional mistake, he'd assumed that he was the enemy's main target. Of course he wasn't, the transports were. The enemy plan was to pin down the Japanese carriers with the submarine ambush while the second carrier group took down the transport group. That explained the Americans with their threats but their strange refusal to open fire. Everybody knew that Yamato and Musashi had nuclear shells for their 46 centimeter guns. The Triple Alliance didn't have nuclear weapons, not as far as anybody knew. So the Americans, with their disgusting sense of fair play had evened the odds by checkmating the Japanese nuclear platforms with their own.
Of course the Americans had defined fair play in this case. How many Triple Alliance carriers were out there. Two at least with the convoy but how many in the second group Idzumo had spotted? Two? Four? If two, then Idzumo could have taken them on even terms. But now he had two thirds of his screen gone and his ships had been hit. And, he had to calculate on enemy capabilities. If they were committing their carriers while still half-trained he had to assume all four Triple Alliance Essex class were around. They could overwhelm Idzumo's carriers then eradicate the troop convoy. Soriva realized his battleships simply didn't matter in this equation. Idzumo must have realized that as well, that was why he had acted the way he had, prevaricating on the air cover Soriva had been demanding. He knew he had to give priority to protecting the transports.
“Signals, make to Admiral Idzumo. 'Four enemy carriers waiting in ambush. Make protection of troop convoy your topmost priority. Provide air cover to transports at earliest possible moment.' Get that message out fast.”
Soriva stared at the chart. The message was obvious, it was all over. He couldn't catch the Australian convoy without getting nuked. His transports couldn't get to Rangoon and if they continued on course, they'd be subject to air attack. It would be pointless. The game was over. Time to fold.
“Signals, make to Admiral Iwate. 'Operation abandoned due to overwhelming enemy strength. Come to course oh-four-five then make for Danang.'“ The signals officer cleared his throat and absent-mindedly tapped the earlier signal about Chuyo. “Correction make that Haiphong. Signal Admiral Idzumo and order him to make for Haiphong as well. Helm, come to course oh-six-oh.”
Flag Bridge, INS Hood, South China Sea
Captain Ladone felt the tension screwing his nerves tighter and tighter. He'd felt the same way the time he'd been on the Prince of Wales when she'd made her run across the Atlantic during The Great Escape. His older brother Jack had been on Barham, one of the six old battleships that hadn't made it. A U-boat had nailed Barham with four torpedoes. The Germans had triumphantly released film of her rolling over and exploding. He'd always wondered what Jack had felt as his ship exploded under him, now he would know.
He had accepted he was going to die. It was only a question how. The Chipanese wouldn't back down, they'd call the American bluff. If it was a bluff. It was a logic tree. There were two possibilities, the Americans were bluffing or they were not. There were two more, the Chipanese would fire nuclear shells or they would not. First case, the Americans were bluffing, the Chipanese fired non-nuclear shells. Then, there would be a gunnery duel that would last until an 18 inch shell crashed into his magazines and his ship exploded. Second case, the Americans were bluffing and the Japanese used nuclear shells. Then, Hood would be incinerated instantly. Third case, the Americans were not bluffing and the Chipanese fired non-nuclear shells. Then the Americans would return fire with their nuclear missiles and it would be the Japanese who would be incinerated instantly and Hood would survive. Fourth case, the Americans were not bluffing and the Chipanese fired nuclear shells. Then, Hood would be incinerated and the Chipanese would follow them to Valhalla a split second later. But the Chipanese knew the same four cases and the logic conclusion was that they would open fire with nuclear shells as a result.
So Ladone was waiting for the lookout to report that one of the Chipanese battleships had fired a single shell at Hood. He'd have time to make a quick prayer and that would be it. If he was lucky, the report of the American bombers firing their missiles would arrive before that shell struck. It was the waiting for that lookout's report that was grinding his nerves down. He looked forward, over his forward turrets. Would the old girl get a final chance to get a blow at the enemy? His guns were swung out, trained on the lead enemy battleship. At this range, he could probably get off one broadside, perhaps two. If the Gods of War were just, they'd let the old girl score a single hit, for the sake of honor if nothing else.
“They're turning away.”
Ladone couldn't believe it. “Confirm that.”
“The enemy ships sir, they're turning away from us. All of them. Estimated course between oh-four-five and oh-seven-five. They're breaking off.”
“Oh Dear God Thank You.” The words broke from Ladone's lips quite unintentionally. He felt almost like bursting into hysterical laughter so great was the relief. “Hold present course, oh-oh-oh. We'll stay between them and the convoy, just to keep them honest. But, he could see the Chipanese were indeed being honest. The two enemy battleships settled to course oh-six-oh and, as the minutes lengthened, they vanished over the horizon. Soon, even their faint smudge of smoke had gone. All that was left of the confrontation was the faint contrails of the American bombers high overhead.
“Number One. Plot a course to rejoin the Australians then make flank speed. And invite Rana and Rajput to join Hood in splicing the mainbrace.”