Kirov III: Pacific Storm

for Darwin.”

“Very well,” Hara relented. “They will do. We do not expect any serious naval threat in the Darwin Operation. With our air base at Port Moresby operational now, the Americans cannot enter the Coral Sea without our knowing about it, let alone try to navigate the Torres Strait. This will be a very simple operation.”

“I am glad to hear your confidence,” said Yamamoto, “because after you secure Darwin you will bring your carriers into the Coral Sea and stand by for further orders. Your destroyers may refuel at Moresby if necessary. Pending the success of Operation FS, you may either be ordered to strike the allied airfields at Cairns and Townsville, or to move southeast to support our operations against Noumea. Bring Nagato and Mutsu with you at this stage, as they will return to Truk when the overall operation concludes. And of course, you also have the battleship Kirishima in your carrier screen force. Bring all those ships as well.”

“Captain Iwabuchi is on Kirishima, and I would be most happy to trade him and his ship for Musashi.” Hara tried one more time, this time with a smile. Both men knew the irascible and unpredictable nature of Captain Iwabuchi, and Hara would just as soon be rid of the man, though he needed his battleship for his screening force as it was one of the very few that could run at 30 knots and keep pace with his carriers.

“Nice try, Hara, but I’m afraid you will have the pleasure of commanding Iwabuchi and his ship for the moment. Musashi stays at Truk.”

“Very well,” Hara concluded. “We will smash Darwin and then come east to the Coral Sea and be ready for any operation you devise, I can assure you.”

“Good.” Yamamoto looked at the clock. “Our submarine screens should already be deploying, and air search operations will commence in two hours. Now it is time to see if we can wake up these sleeping dogs and get them into a fight.”

Even as the Admiral finished, he realized the true meaning of the idiom, ‘best to let sleeping dogs lie.’ It was an obvious warning, yet with nine carriers seven battleships and a host of cruisers and destroyers at his command the threat seemed remote. If this was to be the great battle he had sought from the beginning of the war, then Japan must surely win it decisively.

It will buy us at least another year, he thought, his mind turning to a distant future that he could dimly see. How many carriers do the Americans have in their shipyards at this very moment? They lost one in the Atlantic before the war even started and have been holding the others in a tight fist ever since. I have to find them this time, and finish them…Before they finish me.

Chapter 6

Lt. Commander Kennosuke Torisu peered through his periscope, a surge of both fear and excitement animating him now. The Captain of I-63, he had been cruising south, heading for the Australian coast to scout out the area prior to the planned operation. The Timor Sea and coastline of Australia had been a backwater sideshow in the Pacific war thus far. 1942 had seen Japan occupy Papua New Guinea and conclude successful operations aimed at Port Morseby and the Solomons. The Allies still clung to a makeshift base at Milne Bay, but had otherwise fallen back on New Caledonia and the Fiji-Samoa Island groups where they were slowly building up supplies and resources for a counteroffensive that was certain to come in the near future.

The American Admirals and war planners had been uncommonly cagey and elusive. The battleship squadrons Japan had planned on targeting with their abortive attack on Pearl Harbor had been proven as useless as more contemporary strategists had argued. A few had been moved to Suva Bay, the Maryland, California and New Mexico had been identified there to provide a little muscle as a deterrent to any major Japanese attempt to bombard the nearby island facilities from the sea. But the remainder of the older battleships once thought to be the backbone of the fleet remained berthed at Pearl, too slow to operate with the fast carrier groups that were the real striking power in the Pacific now.

As 1942 grew into late summer, both sides had consolidated their positions, with Guadalcanal being the front line in the Solomons and the place most likely to see conflict in the immediate future. The Japanese had troops at Tassafaronga, Lunga and Tulagi, though these places were not yet well established or fortified. The newly won Port Moresby was being prepared for use as a forward bomber base, but was itself visited daily by small squadrons of American B-17 bombers out of Cairns and Townsville.

A simmering stalemate had developed in the Pacific, with the Americans apparently not yet ready to take the offensive, and the Japanese fretting over how they could best provoke the United States into committing its forces to a decisive engagement. The Army and Navy had been squabbling with one another for long wasted months, thought Torisu as he scanned the horizon. Now they have finally decided to act.

I-63 was at the forward edge of that action, a major operation aimed at Port Darwin, the westernmost thrust of a two prong attack that was now finally underway. Two hundred miles northwest of Torisu’s position Admiral Hara steamed with the navy’s newest carriers, Zuikaku and Shokaku, and the light carrier Zuiho, their crews already arming the planes to make the initial air strikes on Darwin.

Two hundred miles further, the transports at Kupang were already loading troops of the 21st Infantry Regiment, 5th Infantry Division,as well as the Kure 26th SNLF battalion and one mountain artillery battery, all forces that had been combed from General Yamashita’s 25th Army in Indonesia. The remainder of the forces slated to make the Darwin attack would come in the second wave, embarking from Amboina and Kendari. The 2nd Recon Battalion was released to support the operation by Lt. Gen. Ilatazo Adachi commanding 18th Army in New Guinea. Other forces consisting of engineers and IJN Base force personnel would move in once the port had been secured. A reserve force of the 1st Amphibious Brigade was to be used to make secondary landings at Wyndham and perhaps even Broome. These troops had been scheduled for deployment in the Marshall Island group, but were diverted by Imperial General Headquarters for this mission.

Torisu’s mission in I-63 was simple and straightforward. Scout the way forward and report any enemy naval activity. The first three days of his mission had been uneventful, but now he was rubbing his eyes and squinting through his periscope at a large and dangerous looking warship cruising in the distance, too far away for him to do anything about it, yet far too close to the area of planned operations. It could pose a dangerous threat to the landings, and he knew he had to report it at once.

He looked away to consult his navigation charts and determine the ship’s position, and when he looked again he was surprised to see his scope empty, with no sign of the contact. Yet a moment later he saw what looked to be a shimmering mirage on the horizon, and seconds later the ship was there again, a dark silhouette above the clear blue sea, set in sharp relief against the azure sky.

There must be low lying clouds obscuring his view, he thought when the ship seemed to fade and vanish again. He turned to his executive officer and ordered a radio buoy sent up at once. “Signal one ship, cruiser, perhaps bigger, and give our present coordinates. Heading is presently north as far as I can make it. There is something wrong with the periscope today—either that or my eyes,” he finished.

“It’s the headache you have from all that toasting to victory in the ward room yesterday. Time to settle into operations, Captain, and make good on our hopes. Can we attack this ship?”

“Not at this range,” said Toriso. “Our Type 95 torpedoes do not have the range of their older brothers.” He was referring to the lethal Type 93 torpedo carried by most Japanese surface ships, capable of ranging out to 40,000 meters. It was so effective at long range that it would be dubbed the “Long Lance” by historian by Samuel Eliot Morison after the war, though it was largely unknown to the Americans in 1942—until their ships exploded far outside any perceived range of torpedo attack.

“I’m afraid all we can shoot with is our radio this time,” said Toriso. “Send the signal. This is what we are here for—to spot enemy shipping. And from the looks of this ship I only hope it does not spot us! Quite the ghost dancer! It moves in and out of shadows on the sea, but it looks powerful, and very fast.”