Axis of Evil

Chapter Twenty-Four: Nippon Down Under

HIMS Tintin

Nr Australia

20^th May 1941

Private Fumihiko had lost all sense of timing, wishing with all his heart that the nightmare voyage would just end. HMIS Tintin, a captured large fishing boat, was one of thousands of ships, not all of them remotely seaworthy, that had been pressed into service. Fumihiko had once been proud to be part of the infantry group that would make first landfall on Australia, but as the long voyage wore on through the night, he had lost interest.

A private vomited; a sergeant slapped him across the face. Fumihiko concealed his own vomit, grateful that he was no longer the newest man in the platoon. Sergeant Hitoshi ruled the platoon with a rod of iron, and he was hardly the worst in the army.

“Land,” the pilot shouted. Fumihiko looked up as best as he could; sure enough, a dark shrouded land could be seen. Suddenly, a streak of light sliced through the air, blinding the platoon, and slammed into a larger transport. The explosion blasted the ship out of the water.

The platoon gasped as the boat rocked wildly. Sergeant Hitoshi said nothing; perhaps they were allowed some concern when it seemed as if they would all plunge into the cold waters. Another streak of light appeared, then another, but they all missed the tiny boat, out for bigger targets. A green flare flickered in the sky and Fumihiko saw Australia for the first time. It was a beach, just a beach.

“Out, now,” Sergeant Hitoshi bellowed, forcing them out. Warm water lapped around their ankles as the platoon jumped overboard, holding their weapons high, and splashed through the water to reach the beach. A single gunshot rang out, and another, and then they stopped.

“Forward, don’t stop,” a Captain shouted. The man needed no urging; they ran forward and headed into the land beyond the beach. There was very little light and no sign of Australians… before a hail of fire pinned them down.

Sergeant Hitoshi bellowed commands. Fumihiko jumped up and fired a burst from his rifle, the new weapon that the armouries had been turning out, and then ducked as a machine gun focused in on him. An explosion rang out as a grenade detonated, blasting the machine gun and its user away.

“They’re running,” someone shouted. Fumihiko smiled, convinced that the man was right. How could the cowardly white men hope to stand against the steel of Japan? Sergeant Hitoshi blew a whistle and the platoon reassembled. A great deal of confusion ran through the ranks until all of the platoons were carefully sorted out.

“Get unloading,” Sergeant Hitoshi bellowed, as the first of the transport ships sailed up to the beach. They were tiny lifters, moving back and forth from the big ships hanging off shore. An explosion illuminated the beach as a missile struck one of the transports and destroyed it. “Move, damn you!”

Fumihiko jumped to obey. Once the supplies had been unloaded, they could proceed overland towards Darwin. He smiled; he’d heard stories about white women and couldn’t wait to see if they were true.

No Japanese tactical commander worth his stripes would dream of not being in the first wave, even with the new and deadly weapons available to the enemy. General Masaharu Homma, the victor of the Dutch East Indies, knew more about the new British weapons than most of his people, and had decided that being on the ground was safer. His staff, which had been dispersed among five different ships, was being reassembled and he’d set up a command post in a commandeered hotel.

He scowled. Why did he have the feeling that events were not going according to plan? They’d landed against less opposition than he’d expected and the Australians had run…

He shook his head. They hadn’t run; they hadn’t been there at all. All his troops had encountered was a small number of troops, fighting to slow the Japanese down. All three of the main landing sites were reporting the same; an almost unopposed landing. Homma didn’t like it at all; he knew the westerners and knew their strengths. The AEF in the First World War had been one of the toughest forces in the trenches, and nothing had really changed there. They should have been capable of putting up a better fight than this.

The night wore on. Thousands of troops came ashore, along with a handful of small tanks. After their disastrous defeat in Malaya, Homma had been reluctant to bring them along, as the German-provided weapons would provide sufficient anti-tank firepower. The War Cabinet had overruled him; the tanks might just remain useful, and besides, they weren’t doing anything just sitting back in the East Indies.

New reports came in and Homma started to understand what had happened. The small collection of towns had been stripped of anything that might prove useful, including transport and fuel. Almost all of the civilians, those who hadn’t attempted to remain and defend their property, had been evacuated from the town. There would be no slave labour to build defences like there had been before, in the Philippines.

“We have to march on Darwin at once,” Homma said finally. Certain radio signals were dispatched through the confusion, ordering the second force east of Darwin to begin its own advance. “We need to keep them running, prevent them from forming a proper defence line.”

His colonels bowed and set off to get their regiments moving. Homma felt a centre of cold ice form in his heart; he knew that events were not going to plan at all. For a long moment, he thought about abandoning the beachhead, or even digging in, but he had studied the last attempt to try anything as big as invading a whole country – Gallipoli. No, speed was of the essence; they had to act before the enemy regrouped and counterattacked.

He glared into the terrain revealed by the rising sun. Somewhere within that wilderness, he was certain; Australians were watching him, and waiting…

Philip Orozco and Samuel Broderick were not Australians, but otherwise Homma was correct; there were people watching all the likely landing sites. Unlike the Australian defenders, who were now retreating in good order, the two SAS men were under orders to observe only – no heroics.

“Bastards,” Broderick snapped suddenly. One of the sensors, a robot bird that was undetectable to Japanese technology, had picked up on the fate of the only Australian to be taken prisoner. The Japanese summarily beheaded him. “They’re worse than the fucking ragheads.”

“Now, now,” Orozco said. “What sort of example is that for the young men we have to educate?”

Broderick fixed him with a deadly glare. The twenty-two strong SAS reserve force had been sent to Australia to train a new group of Australian SAS; they hadn’t expected to be at ground zero of an invasion. The SAS had been parcelled out across some of the more likely landing zones, just to watch and see what the Japanese were doing.

“We’re supposed to bring them up to be killers,” he snapped, and transmitted orders to the drone hanging high overhead. They’d been ordered to act under 2015 stealth protocols – acting on the assumption that the enemy had the same detection equipment as they did – and the burst transmission was almost impossible to detect unless someone was looking out for it. The drone relayed it up to the satellite, which bounced it back down to Canberra.

“It’s going to be a long time before anyone says nice things about them,” Orozco said calmly. “Think we should just melt down the swords this time?”

“No argument there,” Broderick said. He glared at the transmitter; the Field HQ hadn’t given them any instructions. “How long do you think it will be before they reach Darwin?”

Orozco considered the matter thoughtfully. The Australian transport network wasn’t anything like as capable as it had been in 2015. The Australians had also removed any transport that might have been found along the coastline, hopefully. Given the size of Australia, it was hard to be certain.

“Two, three days?” He guessed. “They’re only… what? Fifty kilometres from Darwin?”

“I suppose,” Broderick said. “I wish that they had GPS up and running at the moment.”

“They’re supposed to be working on it,” Orozco said. He peered through some of the sensors. “It looks like they’re getting organised.”

“Finally,” Broderick muttered. “None of them would pass Selection.”

“To be fair, they’re landing an entire army with three jetties and a shallow beach,” Orozco pointed out. “I’m amazed that they’re not in more trouble.”

“Perhaps they’ll click their ruby slippers without any help from us,” Broderick said. He nodded as his communicator hummed. “We’re to remain and observe, nothing else.”

“Bastards,” Orozco said. “Inform them that we’ll continue to watch.”

Government House

Canberra, Australia

20^th May 1941

The map looked grim, grimmer than the situation really was, or at least Menzies hoped so. There had been questions in the House the day before, and now the Japanese had spent most of the night digging in. He scowled; four Japanese divisions and assorted hangers-on had arrived almost overnight, and the fleet was still on its way, heading for its rendezvous with the Japanese Fleet.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Colonel Philip Hawkinson assured him. The British liaison officer nodded politely to the Prime Minister. Menzies didn’t take offensive; he’d learnt fairly early on that Hawkinson was devoted to his equipment, the rest of the world made little impact on him.

“It’s going to look bad when I stand before Parliament and try to explain why the army is not immediately counterattacking,” Menzies snapped. He scowled. “Look at the bastards expanding their control!”

“They’re not expanding,” Hawkinson said. “They have three beachheads; one on each side of Darwin and a third at Cape York. None of them are going to go much further.”

He waved a hand at the map. Australian units were positioned in locations that would allow them to seal off the enemy lodgements. RAF units were preparing for yet another raid on the enemy positions; a Japanese attempt to set up an airfield was going to be ruined.

“Except Darwin,” Menzies said. “They’ll concentrate on taking the city.”

Hawkinson nodded. “That’s what they’ll do,” he said. He tapped the map. “They’re not going to have an easy time of it; they’re not set up to be a mechanised force. They’ll concentrate on taking the city, and we have four infantry brigades in the city itself… and by the time they realise they’ve been tricked; they’ll have been starved out. Then they can surrender or drop dead.”

Menzies smiled wryly. “I don’t suppose that they can live off the land?”

“Not enough to feed them all,” Hawkinson assured him. “Even if they try… well, guns and bullets don’t grow on trees.”

“A serious problem,” Menzies said dryly. “I don’t suppose that your technology can make things out of nothing.”

Hawkinson shook his head. “It’s supposed to be possible to transmute elements in a reactor,” he said, “but I don’t think that it was ever made practical.”

Three hours later, Menzies stumbled back into the headquarters and summoned Sir Thomas Albert Blamey at once. The Prime Minister was haggard and worn; sweat was running under his suit.

“They just put me through the wringer,” he said. “I managed to convince them from doing anything stupid, but they’re in a murderous mood.”

“How is civilian morale taking it?” Blamey asked. “Has there been panic and rioting?”

“A little in the east coast,” Menzies said. “The evacuation wasn’t hard to miss, after all. If it wasn’t for the nuclear-powered desalination plant, we would have been unable to water them all, let alone feed them. What’s the latest?”

“Japanese units are slowly poking their way towards Darwin,” Hawkinson said. He nodded towards the computer display. “The air force wants to launch strikes against their armour.”

“Approved,” Menzies said. “The fewer Japanese tanks there are, the better.”

“We might be better targeting their lorries,” Blamey said. “They don’t have anything like enough anyway.”

“We can do both,” Hawkinson said. “We can launch a series of strikes – its not like they can hit the Harriers. The only danger is aircraft from Papua New Guinea, and they won’t have much time to loiter around, even with drop tanks.”

“Order the RAF in,” Menzies said. He scowled; the RAAF had been destroyed on the ground in the opening days of the war, the handful of aircraft that were left had been lost in the battles around Papua New Guinea. The new RAAF was being reequipped with Hawk aircraft, in Britain, and wouldn’t be available for months yet.

“Yes, Prime Minister,” Hawkinson said. He tapped a control on the console. “The orders have been sent.”

Nr Darwin

Australia

20^th May 1941

Private Fumihiko felt his sprits life as the tanks appeared near the end of the column, moving past the infantry, who cheered as the intimidating iron monsters clunked past, emitting smoke and flumes. He cheered with the others; it was a good way to avoid being hit by Sergeant Hitoshi. Still, he had decided he hated Australia; it was hot and uncomfortable and filled with flies.

He wished he could pause, if only for a few minutes, but the sergeants were keeping the men moving, using their clubs with gusto. The men in the tanks were lucky, he decided; at least they didn’t have to walk. The flasks of water that they’d been provided with were almost empty; several men had fallen ill after drinking water from streams. Sergeant Hitoshi had blamed it on poisoning, but Private Fumihiko privately doubted that the Australians could have poisoned every stream in the continent. Australia was big, he knew; it had looked so simple to conquer when he’d seen the map.

A scream split across the sky as two black shapes roared overhead. He looked up, expecting to see Japanese Zeros, but instead, they were different planes, nastier-looking ones.

“Stay in the ranks,” Sergeant Hitoshi bellowed. Fumihiko gasped in pain as the sergeant’s club slammed into his back. He focused on the back of the man in front of him and marched on… until the aircraft swooped low over the force and dropped some bombs. Fumihiko threw himself to the ground along with the other men as a series of explosions ran up the column and overran the tanks. One by one, they exploded; the aircraft vanished into the bright sky.

“Halt,” a colonel bellowed. Fumihiko was glad of the rest as the senior officers muttered to themselves, trying to see how many soldiers had been killed. He winced; the entire tank force had been destroyed – with ease. Shots rang out; three officers died. Under the command of the sergeants, the Japanese returned fire, tearing through the foliage and hitting… what? Nothing, as far as Fumihiko could tell.

This isn’t as easy as we thought, Fumihiko thought, as the column began to move again. He thought about pointing it out, and then decided not to bother; it would have only led to kicks and blows.

General Masaharu Homma cursed as some of the strategy became clear. The Australians – and their British masters – had intended to allow the force to land, choosing to avoid concentrating in a position where the Japanese could defeat them. Instead… instead, they were concentrating somewhere over the horizon, and waiting for the Japanese to run out of vehicles and supplies.

“We have to push faster,” he said. His colonels bowed; they didn’t understand, not really. There were limits, even for the finest Japanese fighting men, and Australia might just be just across the limits. They could not maintain such a pace for ever, even for the two days that would be required to reach Darwin. The port had the facilities they needed, but the port would be no good if they could not muster the strength to take the city.

For a long moment, he considered simply surrendering; he knew the west and he didn’t expect that his men would be slaughtered as soon as they were disarmed, but he dismissed the thought. It would be dishonourable to surrender, not when they could fight to the finish. It wasn’t as if the fight was hopeless… wasn’t it?

HMS Astute

Coral Sea

23^rd May 1941

HMS Astute was one of four submarines of her class, the most advanced submarines in the world after the Transition. The Japanese had literally nothing that could touch her; the only danger was mechanical failure. Despite the torrent of propaganda coming out of Tokyo, the Royal Navy was fairly certain that it had been mechanical failure that had caused the loss of a submarine in the Dutch East Indies.

Along with eleven other submarines, deployed to the west and east of Australia, HMS Astute had been waiting for the signal to engage. The only excitement had been a Japanese destroyer stumbling into the kill-zone, which had been duly blown out of the water with a single torpedo. While HMS Astute’s commanding officer, Captain Patricia Orison, had heard about the Japanese anti-torpedo measures, she’d never actually seen one of them work, and personally blamed it on human error.

“Captain, we’re receiving a burst transmission, FLASH-level encryption, from fleet command in Canberra,” Lieutenant Vanderlinden reported. “It’s decrypting now.”

Orison nodded. She wasn’t convinced that there was any need to encrypt signals – the Japanese couldn’t hope to intercept them – but she agreed with the Oversight Committee that it would be a bad idea to develop bad habits. Sooner or later, someone, most likely the Americans, would develop quantum computers and equal decryption abilities.

“They’ve sent the attack order,” Lieutenant Vanderlinden said. The atmosphere in the submarine’s control room suddenly became a great deal tenser. “They want us to attack.”

“About bloody time,” Orison muttered. “Helm, ahead full. Let’s see what we can find.”

The more complex orders had been simple. There were no allied vessels – apart from the submarines – in the region between Australia and the Dutch East Indies. Everything in that region was a target; they were to sink all the Japanese ships. Orison waited patiently as HMS Astute deployed its radar tower and performed a quick radar scan. There were three Japanese transports heading from Papua New Guinea, directly for Cape York.

“Load torpedo tubes,” Orison ordered. She waited for the acknowledgement. “Fire!”

HMS Astute shuddered briefly as it launched three torpedoes in quick succession. The Japanese had no idea that they were under attack; the three ships exploded with more force than Orison had expected.

“They must have been carrying ammunition,” Lieutenant Vanderlinden commented. “Even fighting men don’t explode like that.”

Orison nodded dispassionately. “That should slow down their conquest,” she said. “Time to tighten your belts, boys; we know how to strangle shipping in ways you can’t even dream of.” She studied the results of the radar scan thoughtfully. “On to the next target,” she said. “The Japanese won’t sink their own supply lines for us.”