in her bottom. She was going fast, rolling over so quickly that even the fires weren’t getting a chance to take hold. It took less than a couple of minutes for what was left of the 13,000 ton carrier to slip beneath the waves. Al that remained was just three figures struggling in the water.
“Another wave of American aircraft approaching fast Admiral.”
The Admiral’s Bridge was crowded for
“First wave report in, Admiral. The pilots are claiming seven destroyers, four cruisers and two carriers sunk; five more destroyers, two more cruisers and two carriers damaged. Eighty enemy aircraft shot down.”
Halsey grunted. “That’s more ships that the Krauts started with. We’ll wait to the camera gun film’s ready. Losses?”
“Twenty Flivvers shot down in the air battle with the CAP Admiral, they’re recovering at 58.5 now. Four more were too damaged to make it home. Knudsen says eight Flivvers are on the hangar decks, too damaged for immediate use. Corsairs, eight down; we don’t know yet how many won’t make it back to the carriers or how many are damaged. Adies, nine down, same comment. Total 41 lost; probably closer to fifty by the time the cripples ditch. Out of Halsey winced.
“Admiral, 58.5’s heavy strike should be hitting the German carriers any minute now.” Halsey nodded absently; his mind still with the two CVEs to the south.
The 12 Ta-152F fighter escorts and the 16 Bearcats hit almost head-on in what was almost the traditional opening to an air battle. The Bearcat pilots were at a distinct disadvantage. They’d spent their careers hunting submarines and lumbering maritime reconnaissance. Aircraft. The pilots in the Ta-152s had always been fighter pilots who had some experience, even if it was very little by fighter standards. Half the Bearcat force was already fighting for survival, skidding all over the sky in an effort to avoid the heavy guns of the German fighters. Four of them didn’t make it. They’d left their evasions too late; the five cannon on the Ta-152s took them out. The odds were evened though, One section of four Ta-152s was so intent on hunting the Bearcats that they failed to notice a second section slotting in behind them. Within the first few second of the battle starting, eight fighters had gone from the fight.
Darkshade rolled at the top of his climb, pushed the nose down and dropped. He plummeted in the way the eagles and buzzards on the reservation had shown him. The Ta-152 was still below him, he hadn’t reacted fast enough to the bunt. Darkshade swept his gunsight along the enemy fuselage. When it coincided with the enemy cockpit, he squeezed the trigger. His gunfire ripped the enemy pilot apart. The Ta-152 spun out of control and headed down.
Across from his kill, four more Bearcats pulled the same ambush on the last remaining Ta-152s. Four stubby little F8Fs had climbed out, positioning themselves over the battlefield. Four more had stayed down below. They engaged the German fighters, then extending so the Ta-152s followed them. That was the cue for the Bearcats above to plummet down and rake their enemy with bullets. A few seconds of slaughter and the fight between CAP and escort was finished. The Bearcats called in. Six of the original 16 were gone. The rest set off after the Ju-87s. Would they would catch up in time? It was debatable, the dogfight with the Ta-152s had caused them to drop far behind.
The Ju-87s closed up for mutual protection. The aft gunner’s twin 7.92mm machine guns might not be that effective individually, but the close formation allowed the gunners to mass their fire. That did the trick. The second group of Bearcats swept in to meet massed machine gun fire that sprayed their ranks. Two of the gray and white fighters spun out of control, and headed for the seas below. Two more broke off, their engines belching black smoke. The twelve survivors relearned the infuriating experience Lieutenant Pace had suffered before. The ability of the Ju-87 to slip sideways made it a difficult target to kill. With their first pass, the twelve Bearcats scored only four kills. One was Pace’s. He’d learned his lesson, he’d come up from underneath where the Ju-87 crew couldn’t see him, and killed them before they could dodge. The other pilots watched and noted. In their second pass at the formation, most of them tried the same trick. Eight more of the accursedly-evasive dive-bombers spun out or exploded as the .50 caliber machine guns picked them off.
Pace knew that the problem was; they were running out of time. There were still 14 dive-bombers left and they were approaching the anti-aircraft zone of Hunter-Killer Group Sitka. He also knew there was another formation of around twenty Ju-87s approached from the North. They were the survivors of the scouting line and they converged on the target they obviously thought was the American carrier group. Even while the thought ran through his mind, Pace swung around, hunting another Ju-87. Again, a pass from underneath. An eruption of black smoke signaled another Ju-87 dying. His third for this battle.
Pace’s formation joined up with the survivors of the dogfight with the Ta-152s. He hit full throttle to try and engage the second formation of bombers. On paper, it was a one-to-one match but the Bearcats were running low on ammunition.
Pace wasn’t concerned with that. He’d got his fifth kill. He was officially an ace with the gun camera footage to prove it. He’d exploited the blind spot under the tail again and killed his man with style and finesse. The problem was that his burst had ended early as his guns ran out of ammunition. By the way the other Bearcats were behaving, he wasn’t the only one. Eight of the twenty dive bombers had got through. Pace guessed that wasn’t good. Then he looked up and saw a formation of 16 Corsairs diving out of the sun on the remaining Ju-87s.
Lieutenant Commander Frederick Kellen brought his 16 Corsairs down at maximum speed. That had burned inordinate amounts of fuel to get to the battle and his fighters were in critical condition. He took a glance at the formation below him.
