Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (story reading txt) 📕

commanding the fleet,” Hairns said. “I’ve only met the chap a couple of times, but he seems to be almost as cagey as Somerville was.”

Well, we all know what that got him, Russell recalled. Although he took at least one Japanese carrier down with him. Maybe if the Americans ever get around to deciding to risk their fleet before the Japanese gobble up the Empire, that exchange rate will start to matter.

“I never believed I’d be back out this way,” Hairns mused, looking out the window. “I’d done my bit flying in Palestine and figured No. 11 Group was where my flying days would end, one way or the other.”

“If you’d told me I’d be leading a Mossie squadron against the Japanese from Ceylon two years ago, I’d have thought someone was quite mad,” Russell agreed. “In any case, we’ll be off in ten minutes once I brief the men.”

Hairns nodded, then extended his hand.

“Hurt them, Squadron Leader Wolford,” he said. “Hurt them dearly.”

“That’s why we have the bombs, sir,” Russell replied cheerfully. He hoped his smile was a lot more confident than he actually felt.

The next two and a half hours seemed almost surreal. To Russell’s pleasant surprise, Baron Squadron managed to get into the air without incident. After much discussion with his flight leaders, Russell had decided to vary Baron Squadron’s armament. Gratham Flight, as befitting Flight Lieutenant Badcocke’s former career with Coastal Command, would lead the squadron towards their Japanese target. His four Mosquitoes carried a battery of underwing rockets and a single 500-lb. bomb, as they would spend most of the night dropping flares for the other flights to see their targets. Jersey Flight was similarly equipped, and Russell hoped that both could manage to alternate attacking escorts so that Baron could get in and hit home with their pair of 1,000-lb. bombs.

“This lot seems a lot less keen than their friends in the Indies,” Bellingsley observed. Baron Squadron had just received another report from the Sunderland that had taken over shadowing the Japanese group from the departing Lancaster. The Japanese force had turned away from Ceylon, and was now roughly four hundred and fifty miles southeast of the island's southern tip.

They turn much further out we’re going to have an interesting flight home.

“In the Indies they had a lot more support from land-based fighters,” he stated out loud. “I don’t blame them for deciding to see what came out to greet them in the dark far as possible from our airfields.”

“Glad to know we made an impression on them,” Bellingsley replied.

“Thank you, Portal Leader, we have the targets,” Flight Lieutenant Badcocke replied. “Multiple targets bearing one six five true, range twenty-five miles.”

Russell turned to look into his scope. Not two minutes later, he too picked up the target group.

Well if this lot has radar, I suppose the Lancaster or Sunderland would have figured it out by now. At least, I hope that’s it, and not that they only decided to launch fighters once they saw multiple blips. Russell shrugged off his paranoia and turned to running his squadron’s attack.

“All right Gratham, Jersey, let’s be about it,” he ordered. The eight Mosquitoes accelerated into their descent, breaking through the intermittent cloud at 10,000 feet towards the Indian Ocean below. The sea’s surface reflected the waxing moon breaking through the clouds, and Russell’s experienced eye picked out the numerous wakes of enemy vessels below.

“Ten miles,” Badcocke said.

“Baron Leader, Jersey One, I have airborne trade bearing oh two oh, range five miles.”

Well, looks like they’ve got cats eyes fighters up, Russell noted with a bit of concern. He looked off towards their right front and saw the brief glint of moonlight on canopy.

“All right lads, I see at least one bloke coming in for a look see, two o’clock!” he said into the radio. “If there’s one, there’s going to be more of them.”

Russell was correct in his summation that there would be multiple fighters airborne. Vice Admiral Ozawa’s Second Carrier Fleet, while not as well-known as the Kido Butai, was a tough, experienced force that had benefited from several of its vessels being sent back to Japan for repairs and refit in the previous three months after the DEI campaign. The cruiser Nachi, having been severely damaged by Allied surface vessels in the Battle of the South China Sea, had received a radar during her time in the yard. A British air search set captured from the Germans then transferred to the Japanese, the Type 281 was an early example of that type. Still, it had been been far in advance of anything the IJN had fielded in 1942, and was quite functional despite having been used for extensive experimentation.

Nachi had detected Baron Squadron at a little over one hundred miles. That had been more than enough time for the carriers Ryujo, Ryuho, and Chitose to each launch a single chutai of Zero fighters. Utterly lacking in radar, what each aircraft did have was a functional radio from which to receive general headings and altitude towards Baron Squadron.

In the end, the system worked about as well as could be expected, which was to say hardly at all. The Ryuho’s chutai, confused in the darkness, was horribly out of position as Jersey and Gratham Flight began their ingress. Chitose’s trio of fighters flew a reciprocal heading to the one they were given, then only realized their mistake as the Nachi’s radar operator began screaming invectives at them. This left Ryujo’s fighters, led by a veteran of that carrier’s grievous wounding during the Dutch East Indies campaign, to attempt the intercept of twelve fast, heavily armed Mosquitoes.

Gratham One, seeing the Zeroes turning in towards his flight, elected to rely on the Mosquitoes’ speed to see them through. As planned, Badcocke and his wingman began passing over the Japanese formation at roughly 5,000 feet. As they reached the outer ring of escorts, Vice Admiral Ozawa angrily issued the order to open fire due to his fighters’ ineffectiveness. As if a