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

"Aye aye, sir," Rear Admiral Fitch replied, his tone sorrowful.

Does it make me yellow to be so concerned with not going for another swim that I agree with Fletcher?

It had been weeks since he'd had a Hornet nightmare, but that didn’t mean the carrier’s loss didn’t haunt him. Eric imagined it was ten times worse having been in command when the Saratoga, Lexington, and Hornet had all been lost.

Even if he was not technically commanding our task group, he was still the senior carrier officer when the Hornet went down.

"Sir, Lieutenant Cobb," Captain Kiefer stated, stepping past the commander into the flag plot. He gestured for Eric to step forward, freezing the commander in place with another glare. "He's brought something I think you'll want to see."

Well, if that doesn't put me on the spot.

Eric shoved his nerves away.

"Sir, compliments of VB-11," Eric said, walking to an open corner of the map and sliding the charred wood from Soryu onto the map.

"What in the hell is that, Lieutenant Cobb?!" the commander asked from behind him.

"It's a piece of a Japanese carrier's flight deck, sir," Eric responded levelly, not even bothering to look at the man. "It landed in my gunner's cockpit."

"I imagine it nearly took his poor head off," Captain Kiefer observed.

Oh shit.

It was he first time he considered just how small the rear cockpit was in relation to the piece of debris' size.

I need to buy Brown a beer when we get back to civilization. Hell, maybe even a whole night in the vice district.

"How many carriers did you see hit, son?" Vice Admiral Fletcher asked.

"Three sir," Eric replied. He quickly laid out what he had observed during his attack. Swallowing hard, he also recounted what Brown had seen during the egress. Finally, pointing out his plotting board, he estimated where he estimated the Japanese would be if they'd continued on their course.

"I drew this circle of how far I thought the Hiryu-class ship I hit might get," Eric continued. "But I'm pretty sure that at least one Hiryu-class and what looked like two larger carriers were still functional."

"Gentlemen, I'm returning to the bridge," Captain Kiefer stated. "I'll have my air officer provide you with how many functional aircraft we have remaining."

"Thank you, Captain Kiefer," Vice Admiral Fletcher said. He turned once again to look at his flag map with Eric's information as Captain Kiefer left. A runner nearly ran into Yorktown's master in the hatchway, quickly ducking back to let the senior officer pass before handing a message flimsy to the glowering commander standing by the flag plot's aft bulkhead.

"The Independence reports she's launching the first batch of returned fighters to bolster the CAP," the commander said. He brought the flimsy over to Vice Admiral Fletcher.

"Thank you, Commander Babin," Fletcher replied, then read the message. His brow furrowed.

"How many more fighters on the Bonhomme Richard?" he asked.

"They report roughly twelve Corsairs and ten Hellcats are available right now," Babin replied. "In another two hours they'll probably have four and eight more, respectively, repaired or brought down from the spares."

"Jesus," Fitch muttered.

"Perils of weighting the strike force with them," Fletcher replied. "This just further reinforces what we've said about needing more fighters even if it means we cut some of the dive bombers."

"I can only hope our opponents have the same problem," Fitch stated. "If not…"

"Sir!" one of the talkers spoke up. "The Massachusetts reports a large raid bearing oh nine seven true, estimated range seventy miles!"

"Well, looks like we have our answer on how many planes the enemy sent south," Fletcher said. "Scramble the emergency CAP. How many fighters do we have over Vice Admiral Godfrey's force?"

"Eight sir," Commander Babin said, his face pale. "Eight more on the way."

"How did that happen?!" Fletcher asked.

"We withdrew sixteen to cover the carriers during landing operations, sir," Rear Admiral Fitch said. "The last thing we wanted to happen was us getting caught from another direction."

Vice Admiral Fletcher looked at the map.

"Let's hope those new anti-aircraft shells work," he said, his tone forlorn.

Better the surface forces than us, Eric thought, then immediately regretted it.

"Lieutenant Cobb, you look like you've seen a ghost," Rear Admiral Fitch said, concerned.

Just how do I explain what Jo is to me?

Eric mulled for a moment, then hedged his bet.

"My friend's father is the Houston's captain," Eric said, realizing his tone and demeanor was that of a plebe caught in the middle of a mistake. Thankfully no one pressed the issue.

"The Houston's a good ship," Fletcher said. "I haven't had much interaction with Captain Morton, but I'm sure she'll be fine and so will he."

"Thank you, sir," Eric replied.

There's plenty of other big targets out there for the Japanese to try and hit. What are the odds they'll decide to waste bombs on the Houston?

U.S.S. Houston

1115 Local (0145 Eastern)

Here goes nothing, Jacob thought.

The Houston was pushing through the gathering swells as TF 25 continued its rush southeast after the reported Japanese cripples. The wind from the cruiser’s passage blew in his face as he stood atop her pilot house. The binoculars around his neck felt as if they were three times their weight from the fear he was doing his best not to show.

Why do air attacks always seem so much worse than a gunnery fight? he pondered, briefly glancing at Commander Farmer. The man stood with his own glasses to his eyes, looking towards the east over the port side. It was Farmer who had strenuously suggested that, in the face of the large carrier raid heading towards them, Jacob give heading and course directions from a position where his view upwards would be unimpeded.

Part of me thinks he's fucking crazy. But I've also never been had to deal with this many dive bombers at once.

During the fight for the Dutch East Indies, it had been land-based torpedo bombers that were the bane of the Allied surface vessels. Farmer had been quite adamant that handling attacks from small