Magestic 2, page 78
At our hotel, I read Toby a story before stepping out to the diner. Hal reported, ‘One of our subs just attacked the Jap fleet, six ships damaged, including two flat-tops. Air strike on its way from Hong Kong.’
‘All the action is over there,’ I sighed. I grabbed a tea and a doughnut, sitting with Jimmy. ‘What’s the latest?’
‘The tank brigade from Hong Kong has cut a major road and rail link east to west. And little more than a hundred miles northeast the American Brigade has assaulted the regional Japanese command centre and barracks; Japanese don’t know where to send reinforcements to. RAF saw some action, bombing road junctions and bridges, couple of trains hit whilst at full steam. I estimate thirty thousand Japanese dead to date.’
‘And the Philippines?’ I asked before sipping my tea.
‘Japanese are consolidating and moving south, the Americans moving to a line well south of them. We stuck four hundred men of the American Airborne and SAS into Super Goose aircraft, and they should be there by now. More to follow. I had a shipment of munitions diverted to the Philippines, so they’ll have RPGs, 105mm, mortars. The aim is to have two thousand of our men there in four days or so, then a counter attack when the Japanese lines are stretched. And Big Paul is harassing their shipping, so supplies will run low.’
‘Right now, the Japanese high command must be wondering which god of their ancestors they pissed off so much.’
‘Hong Kong must have been a shock, their entire force wiped out. The White House knows, but in the press we’ve said that there’s heavy fighting and many casualties on both sides.’
‘Christmas in a few days,’ I noted before biting into my doughnut.
‘I’ve ordered everyone at the factories to have Christmas Day and Boxing Day off, they deserve a break.’
I nodded as I chewed. ‘That’s fair. And they haven’t complained about the pay cuts.’
‘More Canadian police have arrived, about eighty of them. Oh, had around four hundred American miners in the Congo leave, to come back and join up.’
‘Will it affect ore production?’
He made a face. ‘Not really, it’s four hundred out of twenty-five thousand – some of who fled prosecution in the States, and the locals are learning to do much of the work.’
‘You stopped the soup kitchens,’ I noted.
‘Was costing a great deal, and the economy is better now. Besides, there’ll be a massive recruitment drive by Uncle Sam. And we’ve been stopped from sponsoring the Army regiments, since it would be odd for foreigners like us to sponsor fighting men at a time of war.’
‘It would look odd,’ I agreed. With an accent, I said, ‘Where ya from son? Ohio, sir, sponsored by Silo and Holton, sir, and Coca Cola sponsor my rifle.’
He smiled. ‘So we have more money to play with, a lot more. I’m using some of it to buy up ore to piss of the Germans. It’s causing shortages.’
‘We may upset the Fuhrer,’ I cautioned.
‘We may well do at that,’ Jimmy lightly agreed.
The Japanese fleet, struck by the torpedoes of our sub, the Barry White, were naturally running with lights out as the sun set, but unwittingly silhouetted each other as three of their number tried desperately to fight fires. Hearing aircraft approaching, they now sounded the alarm and fired off all of their anti-aircraft batteries as our fighters descended, a hundred fingers of tracer desperately reaching up into the dark to try and find our aircraft.
Our air-version RPGs streaked down with rocket propulsion, fired from a thousand feet or more away before our fighters broke off their individual attacks. The Japanese flat-tops were the main area of interest, their decks easy targets, a dozen holes torn into the flight decks in the first ten minutes of action, fires started below. What had been black silhouettes against the grey ocean a moment ago now became distinct ships, self-illuminated by their own fires.
Destroyers were hit from forty-five degrees and, as the ships tracer reached up towards our aircraft, two flights approached at wave-top height and four hundred miles per hour, no room for error. With the ships’ flickering silhouettes filling their forward view, each aircraft released four RPGs, the nose raised just a few degrees, the ships cleared easily, our fighters running the gauntlet of indiscriminate flack.
Four destroyers took RPGs in the side, the two-stage warheads detonating inside the structures, fires started. And with our aircraft buzzing overhead, the Barry White moved into position slowly, four torpedoes fired towards a carrier at the rear of the convoy – and from just four hundred yards out. Turing quickly, our sub sent four torpedoes towards a second carrier a mile away. Three found their mark and holed the carrier below the water line, our sub slipping silently into the depths.
In the Shanghai Hotel, Hong Kong, Big Paul said, ‘I think their attack on us has been called off.’
He was wrong.
Six battleships steamed towards the colony under the cover of darkness, missed by the sub patrols, but picked up by the torpedo boats. The Japanese ships would be in shelling range in thirty minutes, the fighters on their way back to the colony, their ammo spent. The RAF hurriedly fitted their night sights, loaded RPGs, and made ready to take off, but Big Paul was hesitant. He ordered the torpedo boats to attack when it was fully dark, and to use their discretion.
The RAF took off anyway as the Japanese ships approached, the sun now just a dark purple glow on the far horizon. The RAF had a bearing for the ships, and flew out at a thousand feet, down three aircraft due to damage or mechanical fault. With the Japanese ships silhouetted from the west, black images against a grey-purple curtain, the torpedo boats adopted a tight line astern and powered up, approaching their intended targets before it was fully dark. At three thousand yards they changed course, now pointing their noses right at the side of the lead battleship. The Japanese ships opened up.
At two thousand yards, the lead torpedo boat fired two torpedoes and turned away to port. The boat behind turned ten degrees to port and fired two torpedoes, aiming at a destroyer, turning as the boat behind it suffered an unlucky hit, blown to pieces. The fourth boat swung to starboard, then port, a shot down the throat of the second battleship, its torpedoes released at a thousand yards out, nose to nose with the huge ship. Our torpedo boat turned away and passed the battleship’s bow at less than six hundred yards, the water peppered with explosions as shells landed nearby. Inside the armour-plated wheelhouse, it sounded as if someone was dropping coins onto a metal roof.
As the torpedo boats disappeared into the dark, the second battleship felt a blast through its structure, a hit forwards, soon taking on water. The lead battleship had been hit amidships, modest damage, now taking on water but containing the leak. The worst damage had been suffered by a destroyer, the propellers crippled.
Distracted by the torpedo boats, and keenly watching out for another attack, the Japanese lead battleship was hit four times in the side by RPGs. Anti-aircraft fire erupted skywards, orange fingers seeking out the Boeings as our aircraft attacked from the north. The lead battleship took a second broadside, now burning in several places, the stationary destroyer hit in the bridge and on its funnel, the command crew killed.
A Boeing took an unlucky hit after releasing its RPGs, its propeller sliced off. The pilot plummeted to a watery death, but his RPGs had found their mark - and damaged again the stricken destroyer. The other RPGs missed ships that were zig-zagging, the Boeings soon heading back, four having picked up damage during the action.
With our three remaining torpedo boats returning to the colony, our subs nowhere near, three Japanese ships powered towards the shore, and opened up at maximum range with their heavy guns. The colony soon reverberated with the explosions caused by the heavy shells. Ten of our fighters sat on the runway, watching the colony across the lagoon erupt with orange flashes, but did not have night sights fitted, or RPGs.
Big Paul faced the senior men. ‘Do we have MLRS or artillery nearby?’
‘No,’ was the answer.
‘Wait, there’s an MLRS with a broken engine,’ some called.
‘Tow it with two trucks, right to the shore, all the spare ammo. Move it!’ He pointed at the naval representative. ‘Have our torpedo boats fix the position of the Jap ships precisely.’
The hotel shook, bottles at the bar rattling.
‘I think they heard you,’ the Governor quipped.
Big Paul pointed at the Canadian Rifles officer. ‘Have ten planes loaded with RPGs, they fly with night sights or not!’ Another blast rocked the hotel. ‘Where the fuck are our subs!’ he roared.
The bombardment continued, many buildings hit, but most of the shells again fell into the lagoon or hit the grassy hillsides. The torpedo boats put themselves halfway between the colony and the Japanese ships, and gave a bearing, adjusting it every few minutes, the Japanese ships now four thousand yards offshore.
The broken MLRS had not been far from the southern tip of the colony, towed quickly up a deserted road and to a ridge, a clear view afforded of the distant flashes from the Japanese warships. The crew loaded the rockets, received the latest bearing and checked the direction visually, set the range given by the torpedo boats, and fired one rocket. Nothing.
A new bearing was given, a new range set, a single rocket fired. Again nothing, no flash indicating a hit as incoming shells screamed over the ridge and into the colony behind. The torpedo boats then indicated the main battleship turning to shore, possibly to track back the other way. They gave a bearing and range, a rocket fired. A hit, reported by the closest torpedo boat. Twenty rockets were loosed off in quick succession.
The battleship itself loosed off anther salvo, but as the MLRS crew peered into the dark the ship was suddenly lit-up like a Christmas tree, eleven simultaneous hits, the big ship well alight in six places. With a bright target to aim at, the MLRS crew adjusted the bearing and shortened the range, firing a second salvo of twenty rockets, claiming eight hits, flames bursting from the stricken battleship. It nosed out to sea, the other Japanese ships moving to join it.
When the prop fighters finally took off they could see the battleship three miles away as a distant amber glow, and flew straight towards it. Seeing the ship well alight, they used the glow reflecting off the other ships to launch their attack by eye, two destroyers hit side-on and set alight. The battleship took eight RPGs in the backside as it fled, its main guns now out of action. Out of RPGs, the prop fighters dropped low, and came at the remaining ships head on, quick bursts towards the bridge glass with their fifty cal machineguns. Two destroyers lost their command staff.
Big Paul stepped in from the balcony, buildings nearby on fire, the air filled with the smell of smoke. ‘We just damaged a battleship with a field rocket system. A new one for the textbook, and a good story over a beer.’ He coughed out smoke.
‘Might we expect a counter-attack by the Japanese land forces,’ the Governor asked, holding a handkerchief to his mouth when not speaking.
‘They’re busy attacking the tank brigade, and the American Brigade has launched a major offensive a hundred miles north of here. So … the Nips are bit tied up at the moment, mate. And tomorrow we’ll break out.’
The Governor lowered his handkerchief. ‘Break out?’
‘We’ll attack those Japs left nearby,’ Big Paul confirmed.
At dawn, three thousand men of the Nepalese Rifles moved out, some on foot – long snaking lines, many by jeep or half-track. The Canadian Rifles moved down from the hills and joined them, each building searched and marked before moving on – the local residents having long fled, soldiers left at crossroads to police the area. A modest force moved east, the larger force moving up the north road towards the distant tank brigade.
The main force advanced three miles before it came across the first Japanese patrol, an air strike called in, the Japanese-held positions bombed by the RAF. The colony force split up, spreading out in all directions. Junctions would be held, command posts set up, re-supply routes fixed. Every half a mile a platoon of Rifles would set up a happy home, movement of locals on the roads watched, the hills scanned with optical sights.
A few Japanese platoons, cut off from their main units, started to snipe down at the Rifles from the hills above. The Rifles simply zoomed in with powerful telescopic sights mounted on fifty cal rifles, and killed each Japanese sniper without too much difficulty, the poor Japanese enlisted man using a bolt action rifle.
By this time, the American Airborne had landed and grouped in the central eastern Philippines, to began a slow march north, the aim being to circle around the known Japanese thrusts in the west and in the central areas.
Knowing where the Japanese were offloading men and supplies, and where their temporary field headquarters were located, the US Army suggested to us an aerial bombing campaign. Their pilots were already trained to fly both Super Goose and the bomber variant, but they were still fresh, so we handed them six of our veteran pilots on loan. Six bomber variants had flown out to Hawaii at the start of hostilities, been refuelled, and then flown onwards to the Philippines when called for, each with modest bomb loads, the bombs carried with no fuses.
Jimmy had a ship with bombs at anchor in Singapore, for a later campaign, but had released it to the US Army, the ship sailing to the southwest of the Philippines. The bombers flew to the largest suitable strip closest to the port off-loading the bombs to save time, each plane operating with a mechanic onboard, most with two or three mechanics onboard for the flight over. The existing bombs were armed first, each plane offering just twenty thousand pounds worth or ordnance, and one morning at six o’clock eight bombers took off in sequence heading north, climbing to fifteen thousand feet.
Over the target port in the north, they turned in a large circle – their con trails clearly visible to the Japanese below, coming around again for the lead plane to line up and check its bombsights. The bombs were dropped onto the port in turn, staggered released, the aircraft observing their own pattern accuracy on the ground. The bombs fell tight enough, the entire length and breadth of the port a suitable target area, eight loads of twenty thousand pounds released, each bomb just two hundred and fifty pounds. But four crews had selected the wrong bombs, and had peppered the area with delayed-fuse bombs.
The mistake was realised when only a handful of their bombs were seen to explode, the aircraft returning to base unmolested by Japanese fighters. At the port, however, the initial strike had caused havoc, ships and buildings alight, roads dug up. But as the repair crews started to the tackle fires, bombs detonated, one every ten minutes or so. It made effecting repairs a dangerous pastime, which was the whole point – albeit by accident.
That evening, the mechanics and crews loaded the correct bombs, forty thousand pounds worth each, and the aircraft lifted off at dawn after a long take-off run. At fifteen thousand feet, now above the damaged port, the aircraft lined up, awaited the marked drop point in their bombsights, and let rip with a staggered release. The last two aircraft couldn’t see the target for smoke, and so aimed at the smoke itself. When they circled around to judge the damage they had no view of the port for smoke. They circled for a fruitless ten minutes, then just gave up and set off south.
Hardly a building was left standing in the port, the roads unusable, every ship in the harbour either sunk or on fire, confirmed by a flight the next morning that simply took photographs. The port was written off and beyond repair, not a structure left standing, a dozen ships destroyed. Given that the Japanese regional HQ was in the middle of a large town, carpet bombing was now decided against.
The Japanese front lines in the west were, however, known, the forward Americans units pinned down for the moment. The bombers were reloaded overnight, and took off the next day. They confirmed their own positions by large markers on the ground - south of the lines, clearly visible through the telescopic bombsights, and came in parallel to the lines, over the Japanese positions.
The bomb release was set to “wide-staggered”, the switches thrown just ahead of the target. The trailing bomber would then aim at the end of the smoke caused by the previous aircraft. By time all of the bombs had been released, an area some two miles long had been hit, a wall of dust and smoke steadily rising. The attacking Japanese lines had been thinned out to great effect, the Japanese soldiers not initially running for cover since no aircraft had been heard or seen. Making use of the opportunity, several American units attacked through the smoke, modest gains accrued.
Festive cheer
Christmas arrived, and those of us left at the hotel tried to make the most of it. I enjoyed a traditional family Christmas – all about the kids ripping gifts open, followed by a hotel-gang Christmas, followed by a family Boxing Day, another gang celebration in the evening. The hotel’s dining room ran functions for the senior staff, and I bought gifts for many.
Our motorcycles manager informed me that sixty bikes had been handed to the Rifles, thirty sent to Kenya. Another manager mentioned the progress of the cruise missiles, and no matter how hard we tried to avoid it - we always got back around to work. The latest gossip was that US Marines were landing in the Philippines in numbers by ship, new automatic rifles having been issued to them and practised with aboard ship.
Later that night, I slipped out and checked the reports, details of operations around Hong Kong, casualties, supply levels, ammo levels. The food situation for the colony had eased now because local farmers on the Chinese side could again sell to Po. Chickens and pigs travelled across the causeway as it was being hurriedly repaired by hungry workers.
Hal came and joined me, drink in hand. ‘Not enjoying the party?’ I asked as he sat.
‘It’s OK, but I was up early.’
‘You’re always up early,’ I pointed out, my own drink in my hand.
‘Most days I take a cat nap for thirty minutes around 6 o’clock, but don’t tell anyone. After a nap I’m good till 1am.’
