The Commodore: A Novel by Deutermann P. T

Author:Deutermann, P. T. [Deutermann, P. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, War, Adventure, Suspense
ISBN: 9781250091758
Goodreads: 28514206
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2016-08-02T07:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Savo Island

Two hours later his phone squeaked. He heard it, ignored it. It squeaked again, harder.

“Captain.”

“Captain, this is Lieutenant McCarthy in Combat. Wichita and Providence both are reporting air contacts inbound from the north. Wichita says they look like multiple heavy bombers. Right now they’re forty-eight miles out and closing at a hundred sixty knots.”

“What time is it?” Sluff asked.

“Zero two thirty, sir.”

“GQ,” Sluff said, and rolled out of bed.

In the passageway outside he heard the bosun piping all-hands over the ship’s announcing system, followed by the words “General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations.” Then came the familiar gonging noise. He dressed quickly and scrambled up to the bridge, accompanied by everyone else headed for a topside GQ station.

He didn’t get a chance to look at his watch until he made it to his chair. It was 0235, which meant that the Japs had now thrown night-capable bombers into the Solomons campaign, maybe even equipped with radar. He looked out the bridge windows and saw only the typical Solomon Islands darkness. No visible moon, the air heavy, wet, and still in the low nineties, even at this early hour. Then he heard the radio speaker above his chair come to life. The task group commander ordered the formation to execute an immediate-execute turn together to the north and head right for the approaching bomber formation, speed twenty-seven knots. Then he executed it, and all the ships swung left and began to accelerate.

The Japs wouldn’t be trying to drop bombs at night. This would be a torpedo attack, and by presenting their narrow bows to the oncoming bombers, the admiral had much reduced the target aspect of the American column. Sluff called Combat and asked if King’s radars held the approaching planes.

“In and out, Captain,” the exec said. “I think they’re just now descending to drop level. I’m guessing Bettys. As soon as we get a solid contact, I’ll designate to director one.”

“But on this course, we can only bring one gun to bear,” Sluff said.

At that moment both cruisers opened fire. Each of them could bring six barrels to bear on the descending aircraft. Their radar-controlled dual-purpose six-inch guns were designed to fill the air in front of an approaching bomber formation with white-hot shards of steel at a range of ten miles. The destroyers would have to wait until the bogeys got into seven or eight miles before they could even reach them, depending on their altitude.

“Captain, Combat, we’ve got ’em on the surface-search radar now, which means they’re down on the deck for a torpedo run. Fifty-two will open up in about forty seconds.”

Sluff didn’t like this setup, but there really was no alternative. If they turned perpendicular to the attacking waves, each destroyer except King could bring five guns to bear, and the cruisers fifteen. But he knew the reason they were turning into the attack. Come right or left and the torpedoes would have six hundred feet of cruiser to collide with; this way, they had fifty-five.

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