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

He chose his prey, a pair of British fighters fixated on the chutai of dive bombers they’d chosen. The Shiden closed quicker than Isoro had expected from the Spitfires he’d fought in the Dutch East Indies, but he adjusted all the same.

The trail fighter saw him at the last moment, its wings starting to come up in an evasive maneuver before Isoro squeezed his trigger. The British fighter staggered, then burst into flames as the four 20mm cannon pierced its fuel tank.

Realizing the danger, the British leader broke right in a tight turn. Isoro continued past, rolling his fighter to the left to cover Oda as the latter cut across the Spitfire’s turn to fire a snap shot. The burst scored several hits, the Spitfire’s nose losing a piece of the engine cowling and streaming glycol as its pilot desperately dived away.

“Leader look out!” Isoro’s radio crackled with Takahashi’s desperate warning. He didn’t attempt to see what the man was calling about, throwing his Shiden into a snap roll. There were several impact sounds from behind him in the fuselage, and he saw a dark gray Grumman hurtle past his tail, wingman behind him.

That fighter looked…strange.

Instead of attempting to get around to pursue the Grumman, Isoro leveled his wings and advanced his throttle while looking for more prey. He saw that Oda had disappeared somewhere and the radio net was total chaos. Anti-aircraft fire bursts were roughly twenty miles to the south, meaning that the Kido Butai’s first strike had found something.

In a manner that had become far too familiar in the last six months, the skies immediately around them had suddenly become devoid of aircraft. Isoro signaled for Takahashi to follow him and began climbing towards the flak.

Indeed the first strike had found something: prey.

Vice Admiral Cunningham had sortied north from Addu Atoll with the H.M.C.S. Ark Royal, Eagle, Illustrious, and Victorious as the centerpiece of his fleet. Unlike their American and Japanese counterparts, the Royal Navy had anticipated combat in close proximity to both land bases and opposing surface vessels rather than the open expanses of the Pacific Ocean. Therefore, the Fleet Air Arm had made design tradeoffs for their carriers and doctrine that resulted in smaller air groups.

The detection and destruction of Tone No. 4 had cued Vice Admiral Cunningham that his force had been detected. Unfortunately, his staff had believed the lone aircraft and another of its fellows detected on radar to be launched from one of Japan’s many seaplane-carrying submarines. It was only when the first Kido Butai wave was detected at just under two hundred miles that the four carriers had realized their danger.

Despite excellent radar placement, the clouds and thirty-six Kido Butai fighters had mostly served to neutralize the CAP. With the exception of a pair of Tenzan and a solitary Suisei dive bomber, Commander Fuchida found himself directing the entire Kido Butai’s strike at the Victorious and Eagle as the Ark Royal and Illustrious disappeared into the squall line.

The two British carriers were escorted by the Prince of Wales, heavy cruiser Frobisher, light cruiser Emerald, and seven destroyers. Fuchida, quickly assessing the situation, allocated his forty-seven dive bombers and fifty-five torpedo bombers among the thirteen vessels. As the British formation opened to allow the capital ships room to maneuver, first the heavy, then medium, then finally, desperately, light AA guns blazed aways at the Japanese force.

In ten minutes it was over. In accordance with their doctrine, the dive bombers went in slightly ahead of the torpedo bombers to reduce enemy fire. Having just transitioned to the Suisei from the slower Val, the Kido Butai’s timing was slightly off. Several bombers nearly collided as they pushed over, pilots from separate squadrons screaming at other even as British tracer fire and shell bursts reached up towards them. The dense flak claimed six of the dive bombers before they released, with another eight or so being damaged enough to affect their drops.

The thirty or so remaining aircraft more than accomplished their task of suppressing defenses. Emerald was the first to suffer, her captain avoiding four bombs only to catch three in rapid succession. The elderly cruiser, laid down in the waning days of World War II, was no more suited for that level of abuse than a grandmother was for a heavyweight boxing match. Each 1,000-lb. bomb was, in effect, a body blow to an already frail frame, with the bridge, then the amidships engineering spaces, and finally the rudder and stern being blasted into ruin. Horribly maimed, with steam and smoke gushing from her midsection, the light cruiser coasted to a stop then began to list.

On the opposite side of the Victorious and Eagle, the heavy cruiser Frobisher was more fortunate than her lighter counterpart. Like Emerald, her captain ably maneuvered the vessel to dodge the first chutai. The second was similarly thwarted despite each Suisei releasing two 500-lb. bombs apiece rather than the heavier half-ton weapons.

It was a sole Shokaku Suisei, pressing in close, that manage to put a pair of 500-lb. bombs on the cruiser’s stern. Catching a burst of 1.1-inch pom poms to the cockpit for his perfidy, the Japanese pilot did not see that only one of his weapons detonated. Still, the blow managed to sever the Frobisher’s rudder controls, sending the heavy cruiser careening in a circle towards the H.M.C.S. Catterick, a destroyer in the screen. Fortunately for both ships, the bridge crew of the latter were alert and managed to get their smaller vessel out of their larger companion’s way.

Lieutenant Commander Maki led the Akagi’s dive bombers down towards the Victorious’s deck. Unlike the unfortunate Shokaku dive bomber who had hit the Frobisher, Lieutenant Commander Maki did not suffer a burst of fire into the canopy. Instead, a bursting shell from the Victorious’s heavy anti-aircraft battery turned his dive bomber into its namesake. Whether by design or due to the chaos inherent of finding oneself in the center of