Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (classic book list .txt) 📗

The noise of an aircraft rolling down the flight deck briefly filled the ready room.

That sounds like we’re getting some of our fighters launched, Eric thought. Which means they’re strengthening the CAP either in anticipation of something getting flown back at us or sending more fighters out towards the surface folks.

It was a short walk up and out onto the Yorktown’s flight deck. The carrier’s strike was arrayed aft, engines starting to turn over as crews made the final pre-flight checks. A Wildcat trundled down the flight deck, then soared off to join the other three stubby fighters in its flight.

“Helluva way to earn our pay, ain’t it?” Lieutenant Ramage shouted, the wind over the Yorktown’s bow causing his Mae West to flap in the wind.

The big carrier’s deck vibrated underneath them as she steamed at near full speed, her wake broad and white behind her. As he walked over towards the island where Lieutenant Commander Brigante knelt with a mapboard in front of him, Eric turned to look over the rest of the formation. With just a pair of light cruisers and four destroyers around her, the Yorktown was sailing along with the smallest escort she’d had since the start of the war.

I’d feel a little exposed if I didn’t know there was a surface group less than three hours away. Less than that if we steam towards one another.

“Okay guys, here’s the dope,” Lieutenant Brigante began in his strong Brooklyn accent. “The wind’s being cooperative for operations, so Yorktown’s going to continue to steam towards the Italian port until we return. CAG believes as long as we keep behind the surface bubbas, no need to worry about the Italian bombers flying all the way out here to hit us.”

Well that seems a bit optimistic, Eric thought.

“We’re going with Plan Able from last night,” Brigante said. “Vice Admiral Fletcher figures even if the battleship and carriers come out to fight, they’re going to need fuel afterwards to go anywhere. Our job is to make sure the tankers that are allegedly in harbor don’t make it back out.”

Gotta wonder how many tankers the Italians are going to have after this, Eric mused. We’ve sank quite a few.

“The torpeckers are going to go plaster what intelligence indicates is one of only two airfields capable of handling bombers,” Brigante went on. “That’s the only change from Plan Able.”

Eric wasn’t the only one who looked back in surprise at the Avengers.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a wrinkle that got slipped in while we were sleeping, and the ordnance boys had a long night of it swapping stuff out,” Brigante observed.

Wonder if Vice Admiral Fletcher is trying to conserve torpedoes? It was a long, long way to an American depot, and scuttlebutt from the replenishment was that the Lassen had been long on bombs, short on torpedoes.

I wonder if the rumors are true about BuOrd recalling a bunch of tin fish for testing? Eric thought. Nick had told him about the submariners’ problems. Several of VT-8’s survivors had also sworn they should have gotten at least one hit on the damaged Japanese carrier that had escaped during the Battle of Hawaii. Other incidents from the Dutch East Indies and the Battle of Iceland had increased the tension between BuOrd and the active fleet.

“Now, there’s a possibility that we might run into some British aircraft,” Brigante said, consulting his notes. “Besides the birds carried on the escort carriers intel says are in port, apparently our black shoe brethren were sighted by a British flying boat.”

You know, for all the complaining people were making about not doing this with the Royal Navy carriers as well, I think I’m glad to know any British aircraft I see are enemy.

“Rendezvous points are as follows,” Brigante said, then began rattling off the respective latitudes and longitudes. Consulting his notes one last time and seemingly satisfied, Brigante tucked the piece of paper away.

“Let’s go make our mothers proud, gentlemen,” he said. “See you guys back here in a couple of hours.”

The flight towards Mogadishu seemed longer than it actually was. With VB-11 and VS-11 both flying the strike at almost full strength while the Enterprise acted as the duty carrier, the Yorktown’s “Sunday Punch” was almost fifty aircraft strong. Puttering along behind and below the twenty-four dive bombers, the carrier’s twelve Avenger torpedo bombers each lugged a 2,000-lb bomb while twelve F4Fs weaved protectively overhead.

“Isn’t it kind of strange that the torpecker pilots aren’t carrying any of their tin fish?” Radioman 1c Brown asked.

“Vice Admiral Fletcher wants to make sure we wreck the harbor,” Eric replied. “If we destroy the facilities, the ships can’t come across the Indian Ocean after us while we’re fighting the Japanese.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m no admiral, but doesn’t putting a hole in their side keep the vessels from chasing us just as well?” Brown asked.

Yes, but you’re assuming their torpedoes would work.

“A whole lot easier to hit a building than a ship, Brown,” he said aloud. “Plus if the British are right, this harbor has horrible defenses.”

“Pardon me if I’m not all that eager to take the opinion of a bunch of people whose carriers are rushing east,” Brown replied, disgusted.

“Careful Brown, you’ll get both of us banned from their rum if you keep up that attitude,” Eric said with a smile.

“Sir, I don’t get to eat all the…bogeys, four o’clock high!”

Eric had just enough time to look up and to his left before the flight of Spitfires dove on the combined dive bomber flight. The rattle of machine guns and cannon fire came even as Eric sideslipped his Dauntless. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three Wildcats falling, their pilots dead before the fighters had a chance to jettison their wing fuel tanks.

Dammit, looks like they were expecting us!

Brown fired away with his twin guns as another flight of Spitfires slanted in. This group made the mistake of swinging in slow and directly astern, the two