River of Bones_Destroyermen by Taylor Anderson

Author:Taylor Anderson [Anderson, Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

////// USNRS Arracca (CV-3)

TF Bottle Cap

Off the Mouth of the Zambezi

December 15, 1944

“I hope you have a pleas-aant flight,” Commodore Tassanna-Ay-Arracca told Russ Chappelle, Mikey Monk, and Dean Laney as they prepared to step into the launch floating inside the great carrier’s boat bay. The launch would take them out to the big PB-5D Clipper floating alongside Arracca, and the plane would fly them directly to Mahe, where Savoie now awaited their arrival. The rest of Santa Catalina’s exhausted crew had departed almost immediately, aboard USS Ramic-Sa-Ar and the battered Felts, as soon as she received emergency repairs. Felts was in no shape to fight or even sail; all her masts had been shot away. But her hull was essentially sound and she could steam. Ramic’s place in the screen would be taken by the very last Scott-class steam frigate, USS Revenge (DD-22). She’d actually been completed after James Ellis and was the third Allied ship to bear that proud name.

“I guess this is it, then,” Russ said, extending his hand. He was anxious to go, yet still somewhat reluctant, and he looked past Tassanna at his surroundings as if to find a reason to stay. There was nothing where he was. The large bay was a holdover from Arracca’s life as a sailing Home that hunted gri-kakka for their meat and oil, and the long, narrow boats that chased them had been kept here, ready to race directly out of the ship in pursuit of their prey. It had been an ingenious expedient that allowed quick egress and kept the people from having to stow the boats above, where they’d be in the way, susceptible to deterioration, and would have to be lowered the precarious distance to the water below. Unfortunately, not only did the heavy doors enclosing the space present formidable engineering and time-consuming construction challenges, but they represented a natural vulnerability in the otherwise incredibly stout hull. No large ships were built with them now, and even the very first purpose-built carrier, Maaka-Kakja, which otherwise followed traditional hull designs, had dispensed with the boat bay. And there were no gri-kakka boats left in Arracca. Instead, a shoal of motor launches floated there, ready for rapid dispatch to floatplanes in distress or the occasional Mosquito Hawk that had to ditch. Quickly getting to those was essential for their pilot’s survival in this malicious sea.

Tassanna took Russ’s hand and blinked encouragement, correctly gauging his emotions. “Cap-i-taan Reddy needs you, Saavoie needs you, and we will all need her when you get her ready to fight.”

Russ stared down. “I just . . . It’s really hard to leave my ship while she’s still fighting.”

In addition to the incessant night bombing, which inflicted terrible casualties on the fixed battery that Santa Catalina had become, the Grik had finally made another move against her and her cruiser consorts the day before. They’d expected it, and even had photographs of the preparations to look at, taken from a high-flying Nancy and its observer/copilot equipped with a Brownie camera.

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