Rising Sun

sustained firing and he had used up too much on the helpless transport. He turned and flew back to the carrier. Next time he would show more patience.

A thought intruded. Why the hell don’t the Americans surrender? They were cowards who did not live by bushido and had surrendered elsewhere, so why not surrender Hawaii? He had another thought and it made him laugh. Perhaps, instead of painting an American warplane insignia on his Zero, he’d have the silhouette of a ship painted instead.

* * *

The mighty new battleship Yamato was Admiral Yamamoto’s flagship and she, along with a couple of other older and smaller battleships and three carriers, was anchored in the waters off what had been the American base at Midway Island. The mighty Yamato was a floating citadel, a fortress that could cruise at nearly thirty knots. She was eight hundred feet long and displaced more than seventy thousand tons, which made her twice the size of most navies’ battleships. Anchored alongside her, destroyers and cruisers were absolutely dwarfed. While her top speed was over thirty land miles an hour, she could cruise more than seven thousand miles at a more conservative twenty miles an hour.

Her main weapons were nine massive 18.1-inch cannon and a dozen six-inch guns, and it was thought that she represented a technological leap forward that had not been seen since the British had launched their revolutionary battleship, the Dreadnaught, in 1906. In particular, 18.1-inch guns were thought to be so large as to be impossible to make and fire efficiently. The Yamato, it was hoped, would prove them all wrong. Once again the Americans would pay for underestimating Japanese technological skills.

It was firmly believed that the Yamato and her still-building sister-ship, the Musashi, could simply stand off at a distance and pound every American and British warship to pieces. Just as important, her very name, Yamato, was synonymous with Japan.

At least that had been the theory, but that was then and this was now, and wars, even victorious ones, never go as planned.

Admiral Yamamoto flew his flag in the great ship because it was such a symbol of power and authority, but he now believed that he’d set up his headquarters in a giant dinosaur. The recent carrier battles, fortunately all won by the superb planes and pilots of Japan, had changed the face of warfare and shaken the proponents of traditional big gun battles. American and British battleships had been destroyed by small airplanes, little more than flying gnats, and the great decisive battle Japan wanted to fight and win was unlikely to include the great ships as major players.

The admiral’s left hand throbbed, as it sometimes did. He had lost two fingers during the epic battle of Tsushima against the Russians in May of 1905. That battle had propelled Japan into the first rank of world powers, even though some of the Europeans and Americans had a difficult time dealing with yellow-skinned men as equals.

In this latest war, the victories at Pearl Harbor, Midway, and a host of other places reinforced the fact that the Imperial Japanese Navy was second to none. It was strange, he thought, how the missing fingers seemed to still be attached. Were they trying to tell him something?

Yamamoto turned to greet Prime Minister Hideki Tojo with all due pomp as he crossed the deck of the Yamato. He could see the minister’s look of awe as he took in the immensity of the world’s most powerful ship. Tojo had seen the ship before, but it never failed to impress, which was why Yamamoto was holding the meeting on board her and not on nearby Midway Island. The admiral smiled to himself as he recalled that Tojo was a general and knew little of the sea. The prime minister was devoted to the emperor and a strong supporter of the war against the United States.

After the obligatory review of the crew, there was a tour of the ship which included an examination of the great guns and the interior of a huge turret. This was followed by a formal dinner, after which the two men retreated to Yamamoto’s elegant wood-paneled office. The prime minister would sleep on the island and fly back the next morning in the same Kawanishi flying boat that had brought him to Midway. That the fifty-eight-year-old would deign to make such a trip showed the seriousness of concerns back in Tokyo.

“You have done wonders,” Tojo said with genuine admiration. “You have defeated the Americans at every turn and with minimal loss to Japan. Everything you’ve done has displayed an almost magical touch. The emperor is more than pleased.”

Yamamoto’s nod was almost a bow. “I have been fortunate, prime minister, that the Americans so totally underestimate our abilities. That happy situation cannot last forever. Sooner or later they will develop the leaders and the resources to fight us more evenly. We are aware that they have a monstrous fleet building and that we cannot match their productivity. And kindly recall that we have not escaped totally unscathed. One of our carriers, the Soryu, was badly damaged and will be out of action for at least a year. The Shoho, of course, was sunk at the Coral Sea. Even what you correctly refer to as minimal losses cannot be sustained for very much longer. We cannot construct ships and planes at anything resembling the rate at which the Americans can. I am afraid that they will soon overwhelm us.”

“Hence, you will smash them with this marvelous instrument,” the prime minister said, beaming.

“Indeed. As with our pilots, we must substitute excellence for quantity. Yet I am concerned that the results of our battles for Midway and in the Coral Sea, as well as our attack on Pearl Harbor, show that the age of the battleship has passed and that we must have carriers, not more Yamatos,” he said sadly.

Tojo sucked in his breath. “The battleship in general and the Yamato in particular are symbols of the Japanese Navy and our nation’s pride. Are you telling me they are obsolete after all the fervor, money, and resources we’ve showered on them?”

“Yes,” Yamamoto said, and grimaced. “I will not lie to you, prime minister. War has a nasty tradition of making its own rules as the action develops, and war leaders have a habit of planning to fight a new war with an old war’s weapons and tactics. There were no carriers in 1918, in part because planes were so crude, but there are now, and, in every confrontation carriers and planes have prevailed over battleships. Oh, there will be a role for the Yamato and her sisters, but it will be as support for the carriers.”

“So be it,” Tojo said glumly. “What do you need?”

“Almost everything, prime minister. Carriers, planes, pilots, food, and oil. We should consider converting some of our existing battleships and cruisers to carriers. In particular, the Shinano, which was intended to be a third Yamato-class battleship, should be converted to an aircraft carrier of immense proportions. Perhaps that will give us a tactical advantage in battle with the Americans.

“However,” he added sadly, “it will only be a temporary and tactical advantage. The Americans still have large numbers of cruisers and destroyers and, as I said, are making them at a far faster speed than we can. I believe they will produce them four times faster than is possible for us. Since they too are likely to believe that the carrier is the capital ship of this war, they will be making those in great numbers as well. Also, they are likely to be converting merchantmen to small carriers in even larger numbers.”

“What about the Musashi?” Tojo inquired softly.

“The Yamato’s sister is practically completed and about to begin her trials. We can do nothing about changing her. The Shinano, however, is a different story. Also, we must put an end to the draconian way of weeding out less-than-perfect pilot candidates. The Americans are beginning to turn out thousands of only slightly inferior pilots who will simply overwhelm our eagles.”

Tojo nodded agreement. He’d hoped for news of continuing victories, but now his favorite admiral was dashing those hopes. The prime minister wondered if the war against the United States was going to bog down the Japanese Navy as the war against China was sapping the strength of her army? Of course he would never admit that the Japanese Army was in trouble in China.

Nor would he criticize Yamamoto’s candor. The admiral was a hero in Japan even though his earlier prewar comments about not wishing to fight the U.S. had not been appreciated by many whose philosophies were more militaristic, and that included the prime minister himself.

Yamamoto had been dubious about Japan’s ultimate success, and fanatic militants had been so upset by his statements that he’d been sent to sea in part to prevent his being assassinated.

Nor could Tojo forget that Yamamoto knew more about the United States than most Japanese. He’d lived and