Sea of Fire

Chapter 25

On the western perimeter of the reefs and atolls surrounding the main islands of the Fiji Group were the Yasawa Group, a string of long thin islands that seemed to rise like bubbles from the snout of the great flat fish body of Viti Lavu below. They were mostly hilly wooded land, but the main island in the north presented some reasonably open land where an airfield might be built. It was there that elements of Base Force 9 would be put ashore to survey the island, clear it of any enemy coastwatchers, and select the best site for an airfield. In this effort, it was supported by the 2nd Yokosuka SNLF battalion, and so a Tulagi sized operation was well underway there before dawn.

Further south, the leading elements of the main invasion group were carrying the 47th Regiment, otherwise known as the Abe Detachment, which was intending to land north of Nandi Bay at Laotoka. That was defended by 29th Battalion, 14th New Zealand Brigade supported by the brigade artillery group. The preliminary bombardment here was fairly intense, with salvoes by the battleships Kirishima, Kongo and Haruna, the heavy cruisers Tone and Maya, and finally, a booming attack fired off by Yamato. They were unopposed, as the only Allied naval presence in the whole region was limited to the cruiser Chester and destroyers Dale and Hull at Suva that had been refitting with new radar equipment delivered earlier. They got no orders to sortie that morning.

It was a surface action group that could not have been challenged, even if Halsey’s entire cruiser escort had been present. Given that his carriers were still far to the north approaching the Ellice Islands, the Japanese would have absolute naval supremacy during the invasion.

Major-General Koichi Abe’s veteran 47th Regiment began its landings in the narrow coral fringed channel leading to the port, which was hotly defended in spite of the pounding delivered by those ships. 3rd Battalion landed first, storming onto the quays and docks, but was soon pinned down by withering machinegun fire from well sited positions in the buildings adjacent to the harbor. Fires were already beginning in the town where the initial bombardment had fallen most heavily. But it was not until 1st Battalion landed on the narrow coastal strip between the town and Vunda Point to the south that the deadlock at the harbor began to break up.

Japanese troops rushed into the warehouses, bayonets fixed, and killed anyone they found, whether or not they had a weapon or uniform on. They then infiltrated into the town as the Kiwis attempted to regroup, and were soon stopped again with the timely arrival of the 36th Battalion from 8th Brigade, which had been moving to the scene for the last hour. This force was strong enough to counterattack, and soon the Japanese found themselves being pushed back toward the wharf and warehouse sector.

Major-General Abe was finally ashore, and he wasted no time reorganizing a renewed attack, gathering all three of his battalions to make the push. It was going to be a shock attack, with the veteran Japanese infantry advancing with fixed bayonets into the very fluid house to house fighting that was now underway.

Meanwhile the 48th Cav Recon Regiment under Lieutenant Colonel Kuro Kitamura, was landing well to the south in Nandi Bay with his raiding force. He had fast troops with light vehicles, and even horses to give the infantry element additional mobility in the rugged inland country. Before they would land, the battleships Kirishima and Haruna were detached from the bombardment group and met up with the heavy cruisers Tone, Chokai and Kinagusa in Nandi Bay. Their fire was mainly concentrated at the port of Nandi itself, the adjacent airfield, and shore batteries that had been position to oppose a direct landing there.

The 6-inch shore batteries positioned in well-fortified sites along that coast began to return fire, and a small duel began when the two batteries protecting Nandi Bay returned fire on the Japanese warships. A heavy mist lay over the bay, obscuring the positions of the enemy ships, which could only be identified when they fired. Well to the south, Kitamura’s men were already ashore and pushing into lightly cultivated ground south of Nandi. The enemy transports had not been seen, and so the opening bombardment had served as a big distraction, focusing the Kiwis defensive response right there near the harbor.

Kitamura’s first objective would be the small dispersal airstrip at Momi, defended by 1st Company, 35th Battalion of the 8th New Zealand Brigade. These troops had only just arrived on the scene, having been posted much further south at another possible enemy landing point, Likuri Harbor. The battalion there had detached this company to scout up the coast along the rail line that had been built from Nawa on the south coast to Nandi. They arrived just as Kitamura’s raiders made their push for Momi Airfield, and a brisk meeting engagement ensued. Outnumbered three to one, the Kiwis held for as long as they could, but within an hour they had been relentlessly driven back from the airfield and forced to retreat into the jungle.

All these early landings were further supported by a daring raid by the elite Rikusentai paratroopers of the 1st and 3rd Yokosuka SNLF battalions. Flying out of Noumea, these veteran troops had already fought in Borneo, at Kupang in West Timor, where they suffered severe casualties, and in the ill-fated operations against Sumatra and Java. The survivors had been reinforced with fresh replacements from Japan, and flew by night all the way from Rabaul to Luganville on the French controlled island of Vanuatu in the New Hebrides. The Ki-57 Troop transport planes had just enough range to make the trip, and the French had agreed to refuel the planes that night, making them ready for the final leg of their journey by air to the Fiji Islands, another 700 air miles.

Along the way the transports had been escorted by fighters off the Zuiho, which was now arriving on the scene of the action after coming all the way from the Solomon Sea south of Port Moresby. The careful planning and coordination of this operation was something that was simply beyond the capabilities of the Allies at this time. Like a fighter that had been dropped in the first round, pummeled on the ropes and staggered in the early going, the Allies were still covering up on defense as Japan moved in for the battle they hoped would clinch the fight in a knockout.

While this was going on, the second regiment scheduled to make the Fiji assault landing was still at sea, navigating the treacherous gaps between long coral reefs that surrounded most of the island group. Major General Shizuo Sakaguchi was leading his regimental sized detachment to the far north of the island, intending to land near the small port of Tavua. Even as the paratroopers of the 1st Yokosuka SNLF landed about seven kilometers to the east of that harbor, his transports were threading their way into the narrow Manava Passage leading to the port. They would be supported by naval gunfire from the heavy cruiser Aoba and a fist full of destroyers that were already in a hot gun battle with a battery of Kiwi coastal artillery.

For the Allies, with many miles of coastline to watch and defend, it was a frustrating morning. They could not make any major redeployment of ground troops because the Japanese could land anywhere they pleased, so the entire US 132nd Infantry Regiment was simply ordered to hunker down on the ground it held along the southern coast of the island, mostly around Suva Bay.

This was a former National Guard Regiment, that had come a long way from Camp Forest in Tennessee, loaded aboard trains guarded by FBI agents in those early fearful days of the war, and then onto transports in Task Force 6814 bound for Australia. It was to become the first regiment of what would soon be called the “Pacifica Division” in this history, and it was going to get but a brief respite before its baptism by fire would begin.

The troops had already seen the white winged Japanese fighters overhead, some swooping down to strafe their position near Suva, and then the Vals came in, their bombs whistling down to strike the anchorage sector. It was their own mini version of Pearl Harbor, made by airmen off two carriers that had been in on that raid months earlier. Informed by Takami that the seas and skies were clear, the pilots off Akagi and Soryu were free to impose their reign of steel over the island. If Nimitz had not diverted Halsey, this action might have met a strong challenge from the planes off Enterprise and Hornet. But Nimitz was playing a different game now, carefully husbanding his remaining pieces on the board, and planning to mount a counterattack once the Japanese carriers had run out their lease on these waters.

As it seemed clear that the other big island of Vanua Levu was not being targeted, the only move the US made was to transfer several squadrons of A-24 Banshees from Pago Pago, which was now a beehive of activity in Samoa. The Americans already had a full Marine Regiment there, with several more on the water heading for that location. They were being covered by the Wasp and light carrier Shiloh, and with them would come a new battleship division sent all the way from the east coast, newcomers Washington, and the newly commissioned North Carolina.

These two ships were the first foray made by US designers into the art of the ‘fast battleship.’ The US had seen the Japanese building the Kongo class battlecruisers, and someone suggested they were intended to run with their carriers. Since all the older US battleships were too slow for such a role, the North Carolina Class was conceived. Originally designed to carry twelve 14-inch guns, the main armament was ‘upgraded’ when Japan reneged on the Washington Naval Treaty. So these new ships would now carry nine 16-inch guns, while still being able to make 28 knots, fast enough to stay with the carriers, or to serve as a formidable commerce raider. They were going to be over 45,000 tons full load, and the icing on the cake was the first appearance of the class of 39, the South Dakota.

A new class, this ship had corrected several shortcomings perceived in the North Carolinas, which would end their run with the Washington. They were given better underwater protection with the main belt extended well below the water line, and a double bottom. Conceived as a flagship vessel, the ship also got a new deck on the conning tower to make room for command staff, and in spite of the added weight, it still maintained a speed of 27 knots. South Dakota was to be the first of four in the class, and it was being delivered to the fleet about 90 days early, a much needed reinforcement.

So there was a method to the madness in those orders Halsey received from Fleet Headquarters. Nimitz was mustering all the muscle he had in the deep South Pacific. He was going to build a fast carrier group with Enterprise, Hornet, Wasp, and the light carrier Shiloh, and he was going to add considerably more firepower with the addition of these three new battleships. The Marines were all huddled aboard what was now being called “The Presidential Convoy” heading for Pago Pago. It was called this firstly because it sailed on Roosevelt’s direct order, and secondly because the transports that carried the troops all bore the names of past US Presidents.

With the 1st US Marine Division soon to arrive in Samoa, the US was going to have some punching power for their first real offensive of the war. The only question now was where that punch should be aimed. The Japanese were already wading into the shallows of the Solomon Island Group, though their presence there was strongest in the north on Bougainville. They had begun setting up a seaplane base at Tulagi, and put small survey detachments ashore at Lunga on Guadalcanal and a few other nearby islands, looking for the best places to build airfields.

Admiral King was eager to get in the fight, and largely responsible for making sure the 132nd Regiment got to Fiji as it did. Now he wanted his Marines to get busy, and flatly stated that to go anywhere other than Fiji would be most unwise.

“We need Fiji’s airfields and harbors, and now that the enemy is already there, that’s where we should hit them,” he said in a meeting of the Joint Chiefs.

“What about something a little more daring?” said Marshall. “The 132nd Regiment is already on Fiji, and we could hold our ground and keep the Japanese busy there. Then we could swing north and hit the New Hebrides. Take this island—” He fingered the big Island of Vanuatu, “right in the center of the board. In effect, we’d be outflanking the Japanese at both Fiji and Noumea once we got airfields and good air support established at Luganville. And from there we can also cover the Santa Cruz Islands and springboard into the lower Solomons. As serious as these penetrations are with the enemy on New Caledonia and Fiji, the Japs are out on a limb. If they want to supply those troops they’ll have to come down through the Solomon and Coral Seas, and from Luganville, we’d have a base that could keep a watch on both those approaches.”

“Right,” said King. “Then how do we keep Luganville supplied if the Japs have planes on both Fiji and Noumea? General, those bases have to be taken, no if, ands, or buts about it.”

It was going to be much debated before a decision would be reached, and the matter would eventually end up in Roosevelt’s lap again. At the moment, however, the fate of Fiji itself still rode in the whirlwind. It looked like Operation FS was going to be a complete success. Hara’s 5th Carrier Division had met and all but destroyed Fletcher’s Task Force in the Coral Sea. Port Moresby had been invaded and secured in five days, the base at Tulagi was unchallenged, and troops were already safely ashore on the main island of the Fiji Group.

“We have done all of this, I might add,” said Admiral Ugaki, “without any magic tricks by that ship out there.”

“Don’t underestimate them just yet,” said Yamamoto. “The situational awareness they provide has been most useful, even if it has not been necessary for them to use those advanced rocket weapons. I remind you that we can operate now with such impunity only because they have assured us no enemy task force is within striking range of our forces.”

“Where do you think those other enemy carriers have gone?” asked Ugaki.

“The losses they sustained in the Coral Sea had to shake them,” said Yamamoto. “It is my feeling that they were planning a two-pronged attack, only their left pincer was shattered by our 5th Carrier Division. We paid a price for that in losing the Soaring Crane, and now Lucky Crane has withdrawn to Rabaul, so the real effect of that battle was to remove all four carriers from the plotting table.”

“Yet we will have Zuikaku back in a week’s time,” said Ugaki.

“Yes, but there are still three American fleet carriers in the Pacific. I believe they will consolidate now, as they cannot afford to face us on even equal terms after this loss. The battle in the Coral Sea taught them that, so I find the silence after those raids in the Marshalls to be somewhat ominous.”

“That was nothing,” said Ugaki. “In fact, I believe those raids were meant as a mere diversion while that other American task force attempted to ambush us. Thankfully Hara’s pilots took care of that.”

Yamamoto nodded, but looked at the report on his desk detailing plane and pilot losses from the sinking of Shokaku. It could have been worse. Many on the ship were safely rescued at sea, and those in the air that survived the attack were able to land on Zuikaku. Yet we were perhaps one 500-pound bomb away from suffering the same disastrous loss the Americans took. What if they had hit Zuikaku’s flight deck? None of those planes would have been recovered, and I would be inscribing a good many more names on that plaque aboard Akagi.

So now we lose our second fleet carrier. Thankfully we will have Kaga back in service soon after her repair and refit. The Kido Butai remains strong in spite of these losses, but I must be very careful in the days ahead. The Americans are now like a coiled spring. They must strike us somewhere, and I must learn what they are planning. I do not think I will find the answer in the library aboard Takami. Everything here is now vastly different from that history. So we will fight it the old fashioned way, with blood and steel on the seas, and our brave pilots in the skies above. If the Americans do strike us soon, then we will see what this strange new ship can really do. The war may be decided on the outcome of the next major battle, and I must win it… or die trying.

Chapter 26

By the morning of the second day the situation on the north and west coast of the main island was starting to look grim. The Kiwis had fought hard, with the village of Lautoko north of Nandi changing hands twice in the long days fighting. The key factor, however, was the complete control of the sea and skies around the island. Japanese cruisers with powerful 8-inch guns were able to weigh in heavily on the fighting along the western shores, and by nightfall, the haggard Kiwis were starting to call Nandi Bay ‘Battleship Row.’ Kongo, Kirishima and Haruna had sat out there all day, pounding any location where they could get a good fire order from shore based spotters. Those heavy rounds were simply too much for the infantry to endure, and the New Zealanders were forced to withdraw into the heavily wooded interior to gain positions where the Japanese could not easily call in those guns.

The problem with that strategy was that all their stores and supplies had been in those positions along the coast. The Japanese now had all the ports on the west coast they had been after, clearing Nandi and Lautoka, and the Sakaguchi Regiment had secured Tavua in the north. Brigadier Robert Row had the 8th Brigade, and he huddled with Brigadier Lawrence Potter of 14th Brigade to see what could be done. Potter had been literally holed up in his underground communications center and headquarters at a place called ‘Black Rock,’ a fortified post hacked out of the stone by the Kiwi engineers a month earlier.

“We’ve lost our main objective,” said Potter. “Now that they’ve taken the aerodrome at Nandi, there’s nothing else of real military importance between here and Suva. The Yanks have some engineers in the south hammering out emergency airstrips along Queen’s Road, but we won’t do much good here, and not under those naval guns.”

“Agreed,” said Row. He had fought his battalions well, and would later become a tenacious factor in the battle for this island, so much so that the Americans came to respect and admire the Kiwis. They had once called the heart of the batting order for their beloved New York Yankees Murders Row, and now, after seeing the Kiwis fight, they started calling them “Row’s Murderers.” It had taken the entire Abe Detachment, reinforced with the 4th Yokosuka SNLF battalion and the 48th Cavalry Regiment to dislodge the New Zealanders from their positions around Nandi Bay, but now that fight was over.

“Look,” said Brigadier Row. “There’s only one good road inland to get us down to the south coast and Queen’s Road. We can’t sit here in the jungle. I say we get to that road and hoof it south. It’s our only play.”

“I hate to give up such plush accommodations,” said Potter looking around the roughly hewn cave site at Black Rock. “But I can’t see any other course of action.” So the orders were given to withdraw the New Zealand Brigades south and east. In effect, the only game in town now was going to be the vital port and airfields around Suva Bay, and that was all that would matter until significant reinforcements permitted offensive operations. Gone were the early days where the men would wallow in the mud of the cricket and football fields near Camp Namaka. Now the war had finally come to their island, and they were in it up to their hips.

It was going to be a long, hard trek inland to that road, and then difficult going in the higher country as it wound its way through the hills, following the course of the Singatana River to the south coast of the island. What was left of the garrison at the small Likuri Harbor would meet them at the mouth of that river near the village of Nayawa. That had been an American post, but General Krueger, the overall commander of all forces in Fiji and Samoa, had decided the position could be too easily outflanked by enemy troops coming down that road. So he sent an order to Patch to pull his troops out, the Regimental Engineers, and a battalion of Aviation Engineers that had been working on a small airstrip. They marched east along Queen’s road, which would follow the entire southern coast of the island all the way to Suva.

The Kiwis would follow the Yanks east along that road, and Krueger asked for a meeting with the two Brigadiers to coordinate the defense they now had to plan.

“We gave them a good fight,” said Potter, “but the thing is this, we had to be at every place along that coast that provided a suitable landing point, and they could pick and choose any spot they want, and then hit it with an entire regiment. By the time we moved in supporting troops, they were already well established ashore. It was just impossible to hold on the coast under that naval gunfire, so you end up withdrawing inland.”

“Well how do we avoid that down here?” asked Krueger.

“That’s easy enough—you need your damn navy to stop them if they come by sea. As long as they control the seas, you’ll always be looking over your shoulder wondering where they’ll put men ashore. Only a strong navy or air force presence can neutralize that advantage. Do that, and I think we can go toe to toe with them on the ground.”

“Well you just get your boys safely into our end of the island and I’ll see about that naval support.” Krueger was Army through and through, rising all the way from Private to his current rank of Major General. Born in Prussia in 1881, he had fought in the Spanish American War, and the Philippine American War that followed. In the first World War he was chief of staff for the US 84th Division, and later served in that same role in the Tank Corps. In training exercises known as “The Louisiana Maneuvers” in the States before the war, Krueger had requested the services of an enterprising staff officer to help him run his VII Corps, Colonel Dwight D. Eisenhower. He shined in those maneuvers, employing the very able services of another man with a fated path before him in this war, one George S. Patton, who was commanding the 2nd Armored Division at that time.

Yet it was MacArthur who would ask for Krueger to fight with him in the Pacific, in spite of his age of 60 years when the war broke out. In Fedorov’s history, Krueger would do exactly that, fighting his way “From Down Under to Nippon,” which became the title of his memoirs of the war. This time, his battles would begin right there on Fiji, and that journey would take him to some very unexpected places. A careful man, Krueger had a methodical style of command, taking risks only when they were necessary. If he had been a chess master, he would have favored positional play, building his strategy around his pawn structure, trading pieces in the middle game, and then playing the endgame like a machine to push one of those pawns home to become a Queen.

Here, in these Altered States, he would get his chance to ply his operational art, but at this early date in April of 1942, that endgame was very far away. In the world this one was born from, MacArthur once wrote a very fitting tribute to Krueger saying: “History has not given him due credit for his greatness. I do not believe that the annals of American history have shown his superior as an Army commander. Swift and sure in the attack, tenacious and determined in defense, modest and restrained in victory—I do not know what he would have been in defeat, because he was never defeated.”

So it was that the man who never tasted defeat would now face an army that had seen nothing but one successive victory after another. Another methodical man had stopped the Japanese briefly on the island of Singapore, this time it would be Krueger’s turn to see if he could stem the tide.

Nimitz was playing a very cagey game, but he was driving Admiral Halsey to utter frustration as he waited for the Cimarron to come on station for the planned replenishment operation. The Wasp and Shiloh were also still heading south, and so Halsey frittered and fretted through the 16th and 17th, topping off his destroyers, listening to reports of the ground action on Fiji, and getting more and more restless with each day. He wanted to get down there and give the defenders of Fiji something to cheer about, but Fleet HQ was adamant—no combat sortie was authorized until the task force had been strengthened with the arrival of the Wasp group under Captain John Reeves.

Orders were orders, whether you liked them or not, and Halsey chewed on the reins for another day, receiving one more signal clarifying what Nimitz wanted him to do. He was to replenish, screen the western approaches to Pago Pago, and then reorganize his task force for offensive operation after the arrival of Wasp. The Americans were waiting on those transports in the Presidential Convoy, waiting on those three shiny new fast battleships, and waiting on the Wasp. Decisions had been made higher up that while Fiji was clearly in jeopardy now, it was not yet in real danger of falling to the enemy. Krueger had the whole of the Pacifica Division there now, and therefore any real offensive would simply have to wait for the Marines to get sorted out on Pago Pago.

It was a strategy of necessity, for Nimitz could see no other viable option, and since the employment of his naval assets would be vital to any offensive the Army and Marines could plan, he had to husband those precious ships and planes, and preserve their striking power. The plan was to carry the enemy here through the middle rounds, lay on the ropes, stay out of reach of his strong right hand in that dangerous carrier force off Fiji—and it worked.

On the night of the 18th of April, Yamamoto met with Ugaki to consider their situation. The expected arrival of the remaining American carriers had not happened. 1st Carrier Division had hovered off Nandi Bay, pounded ground troops, the airfield and port at Suva, but now their own supply situation was going to force Yamamoto to make a decision.

“I believe the Americans have made a strategic withdrawal with their remaining carriers,” he said. “We have waited here three days, fulfilling our primary role in supporting the Army in this invasion. Now that they are well established ashore, our next consideration will be how to keep them supplied.”

“I have already spoken with 17th Army Headquarters,” said Ugaki. “The Tanaka Detachment is now formed up at Rabaul and preparing to get seaborne. It was necessary to wait for the return of the MO troop transports to provide the necessary sealift. Unfortunately, we lost several transports in that action off Port Moresby, two to enemy shore batteries, and a third was sunk by a submarine. To compensate for these losses, I have recalled the transports from Tulagi to Rabaul as well. That should give us the lift required to get Tanaka moving this way.”

“What is the situation on the ground?”

“We control the north and west coasts, several small ports and the airfields at Nandi and Momi. The enemy still holds the south and east coast, though they appear to be consolidating around Suva.”

“Were we wise to land where we did instead of making a direct attack against that port?”

“That was the Army’s choice. They believed that once ashore, Suva could be taken from the landward side. That remains the plan, and our forces are probing the enemy defenses to determine their strength.”

“Then the Tanaka Detachment will land at Nandi Bay?”

“Correct, but that can be re-evaluated later.”

“Yes, but we cannot wait here any longer. Our destroyers are thirsty, and we have used a good deal of aviation fuel and munitions in these ground support operations. It will be necessary to take 1st Carrier Division out of theater to replenish.”

“Now sir? But what about the American carriers?”

“What about them? Takami reports they have no sign of any threat within 500 miles, and they have flown off search missions with those helicopters of theirs equipped with advanced radar. The enemy has withdrawn.”

Ugaki narrowed his eyes. “They are undoubtedly waiting for us to do exactly what you propose.”

“That appears to be the case. The loss of those two carriers in the Coral Sea must have been very sobering. It is clear they were not willing to risk their remaining carriers in an engagement here after that. So we will leave tonight.”

“For Truk?”

“Rabaul. That is where Zuikaku has retired for minor repairs, and that ship should be ready for renewed operations by the time we arrive there. What is the timetable regarding the Tanaka Detachment?”

“They will need about five days to pack and load.”

“Very well. That will give us the time we need to get to Rabaul. I assume there are sufficient stores of fuel there?”

“They just received tanker support from Japan. That will not be an issue.”

“Good. Then our plan will be to reform the Kido Butai at Rabaul in five days time, then we will sortie as the covering force for Tanaka’s convoy. The Zuiho group will linger here one more day, then follow in our wake. Has the Shoji Detachment been sent to New Caledonia?”

“Not yet sir. It remains on Bougainville, until we can free up more shipping.”

Yamamoto smiled. “We make our plans to ride off on our carriers and battleships to find and defeat our enemies, but this war will be won or lost on the backs of those merchant ships. Thus far, this operation has gone very well. It is now ours to see that the troops we deliver get the supplies they need. Do not be deluded by the absence of the American carriers. There is more behind this than fear of engagement here, though that was certainly a factor in their thinking. They are building up as much strength as possible before they move. There is more going on than we may realize.”

“You suspect the Americans are planning an offensive?”

“What would you be planning under these circumstances? Naval intelligence has recently informed us that they now believe the Americans have at least three full divisions in this theater. One is here on Fiji, another is mustering in New Zealand, and the third is believed to be a unit composed of Naval Marines. If those troops are anywhere as good as our own SNLF battalions, then they are here for one reason—counterattack. I believe they will defend Fiji stubbornly, using the forces they have there like a shield, and these Marines—they are the sword.”

“Then it must be shattered,” said Ugaki.

“Yes, but to parry the blow I believe is coming, we must first know where they will strike. When I was on that ship, Ugaki, I saw things in their library that were very disturbing. I believe this unit is the 1st US Marine Division, and in the material I read, the Americans used it to counter our occupation of Guadalcanal in the lower Solomons.”

“Guadalcanal? Near our new seaplane base at Tulagi? We took that because it was the best anchorage in the Solomons. There is nothing on Guadalcanal but jungle and mosquitoes.”

“At the moment…” Yamamoto stared out the port hole, watching the play of the moonlight on the water. “Those books I read tell another story,” he said slowly. “There was an airfield built near Lunga, first by us, and then by the Americans after they captured it from us. They came to call it Henderson Field.”

“What? On Guadalcanal? They could never take that now. They have no logistical base close enough to sustain such an operation.”

“Perhaps so… But this 1st Marine Division landed there, and soon there were more than mosquitoes on that island. Our entire 2nd Division went there to try and throw them off, and was largely destroyed before we were eventually forced to… redeploy elsewhere. No, I will say it the way it was—until we were forced to withdraw.”

“That could never happen now, Admiral.”

“Are you so certain?”

Yamamoto stood up, hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the sea. “See that all ships in the task force receive orders to move at 22:00.”

Chapter 27

Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift was a quiet, soft spoken and self-effacing man for the role he would assume—commander of the US 1st Marine Division, now hastily assembling at Pago Pago in the Samoa Islands. Making Lieutenant in the Marines in 1909, he had seen his first combat three years later in Nicaragua, and at Vera Cruz in 1914. He then fought in the humid jungle and hill country of Haiti, chasing down the Caco Bandits while gaining much experience in special operations and jungle fighting.

His boys were here in the Pacific a full month early, the 5th Regiment arriving in early April, and now joined by the 1st and 7th Regiments on the Presidential Convoy. Instead of sailing to New Zealand, they had stopped right there in Samoa. The enemy was already on Fiji, and the excellent harbor at Pago Pago had to be defended, so there was no time for deployment to New Zealand and the six months of training Vandegrift thought he would have before the division went on the offensive.

Admiral King wanted action now, and his arguments that trying to send the Marines on a risky amphibious assault operation to a place like Espiritu Santo, or even Guadalcanal, as Marshall suggested was too dangerous to contemplate.

“We’re down to three fleet carriers,” he said. “You stick your neck out that far, and Halsey will have to linger in the invasion zone for days, which means there would be a strong likelihood of another fight with the enemy carriers that took down Fletcher. But have a look at the alternative: we’ve already got fresh planes arriving for Fiji. Halsey is there now, and with three new battleships to give him some more muscle. We control Suva, and the Marines can land right there. We also have airfields on Vanua Levu in close supporting range of any operation on Fiji’s main island. The Jap carriers have had to withdraw to replenish, and that gives us a window of opportunity that we simply cannot throw away. I say Halsey can take his entire carrier force down there, establish air superiority, and we can then get the Marines ashore there with little or no risk. We already have Patch and the entire 23rd Pacifica Division. You send in the Old Breed now in the 1st Marine Division, and we can send the Japs back to tell Tojo just how bad they got licked out there.”

Roosevelt listened, his pipe askance, dangling from his prominent jaw, and just the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. King was the fiery heart of the Navy, an irascible, abrasive and choleric man that was quick to anger, and often disliked by subordinates for that reason. King knew that of himself, but never apologized for it. “When the going gets tough,” he once said, “they send for the sons-of-bitches.” King filled the bill nicely.

“Then we’ll have Fiji,” King pressed on. “Then we’ll have a strong base to plan the offensive into the New Hebrides.”

“What about that Jap base at Tulagi?” Marshall reminded him.

“What about it? Naval Intelligence thinks the Japanese have no more than 3000 men in the lower Solomons, mostly service troops, and six seaplanes. Nimitz suggested we could send the 1st Raider Battalion there if need be, but I don’t see the threat. What I do see is a clear and present danger on Fiji. The Japs already have at least three regiments there, and you can bet more will be on the way. They’ve already got several airfields, and they can ferry in planes from Noumea. If we let them get dug in there, mark my words, we’re going to regret it. We have to hit them now, and with everything we have.”

“Are the Marines ready?” asked Roosevelt.

King smiled. “Always ready,” he said. “That’s the motto. And now the Presidential convoy has safely delivered the 1st and 7th Regiments to Pago Pago. I say we turn them loose on Fiji at the first opportunity, and I don’t want to hear any mealy mouthed talk about the boys needing training before they go in. They’ll learn the hard way, right there on Fiji.”

Roosevelt smiled. “Admiral,” he said. “I like your enthusiasm. We’ve sat on our heels for nearly six months now, and that business in the Coral Sea was a warning—we could lose this thing if we don’t do something to stop the other fellow. So I’m inclined to agree with you. I think Fiji should be the target, and you have my full authorization to proceed as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Mister President. You won’t regret that decision, I assure you.”

“Just assure me that you’ll kick the Japanese off Fiji, and I’ll be more than happy.”

So the die was cast, and the target of the first US ground offensive of the war was now set in stone—Fiji, not Guadalcanal, and it would come much sooner, in later April instead of August. Vandegrift was worried he could not get his troops ready, but realizing he had a harbor to debark at Suva was a big plus.

“We’ve only got amphibious assault craft to lift one regiment, and so I intend to use it on that northeast coast. The other regiments can make the run into Suva Bay, and this time the navy had better be there.”

The General did not have to worry about that, King assured him. Another son-of-a-bitch was on the scene, and Halsey was itching to get into this fight. With new orders finally within his grasp, Halsey was ready to go. On the night of April 25th, he was authorized to proceed to ‘seize control of the sea and airspace around the Fiji Island Group, neutralize enemy controlled airfields on Viti Levu, and assure the safe landing and transport of elements of the 1st US Marine Division.’ He was only too happy to comply.

Far to the north, the heavy rounded bow of the icebreaker Siberiakov was slowly churning its way through the remnants of the pack ice in the Sea of Okhotsk. The ship was working with the Oktyabr, Krasin and Yermak, all ships “borrowed” from the Soviet Northern Fleet for this mission. Together they were able to forge a pathway wide enough to permit the transports behind them to follow slowly in their icy wake.

It was a very hazardous mission, undertaken at night in the dark of the moon to minimize the possibility of discovery. The watchmen strained to see ahead, trying to spot hidden bergs in the floes of pack ice. They would bob up and down sometimes hidden beneath the water. Others watched the dark starlit skies, fearing the would be found and attacked by Japanese planes on lower Sakhalin Island. Vladimir Karpov had told the Captains not to worry about that, but many of these men had never seen Kirov in action, and knew very little about the ship or its astounding capabilities.

Kirov had re-entered the Sea of Othotsk for this escort mission, for behind those icebreakers the precious transport fleet was carrying a full regiment of the Siberian 32nd Rifle Division, the strongest reinforcement yet for the small airborne force that had been lifted months earlier by Airship. No enemy naval presence was expected, but the ship was there to prevent any possible attack by enemy aircraft the following morning, once the landing had been reported to the enemy further south. Ice in the narrow channel between Sakhalin and the mainland was still too heavy in the north, but on the eastern coast, it had been thinning enough to allow for this daring surprise attack.

As much as the Japanese might have expected the enemy to come, this was not a night for war in the icy north. The Siberians had made no attempt to push south from the small enclave they controlled at the northernmost segment of the island, but Karpov wanted a port, no matter how small, and the only facility in any way suitable was the small port of Okha. That was where those icebreakers were heading that night, with the wind up, a frigid chill in the air, and cold darkness as thick as the ice fog that drifted in a frosty haze over the floes.

At that same moment, Vladimir the Young was also leading a flotilla of airships south. Their objective was any enemy airstrip that had been cleared by the Japanese late last fall, before the ice and snow made operations there impossible. They were carrying another wave of Karpov’s elite Air Guardsmen, and a key objective was the eastern landward approach to the vital ferry site near Lazarev. That was not only another viable port on the west coast of the island, but also the primary link between Northern Sakhalin and the mainland. Companies of Cossack irregulars were loping out of the heavy woodlands, also heading for that location on the mainland side of the channel. The plan was to seize that ferry before the Japanese even knew it was under attack.

The airships hovered like vast sea creatures over the frozen white landscape, every gun port manned, and the Oko panels ceaselessly turning to look for any sign of the enemy in the dark starry skies. Long cold ropes extended like tentacles from the looming beasts, and down them came the leading edge of the Air Guard, all dressed in snow parkas, their rifles and submachine guns slung over their backs. The sub-cloud cars were creaking in the cold as they lowered on coiled steel cables laden with skis and equipment for the troops.

The tough Naval Marines that had landed months earlier to secure the small enclave in the north were now up from their fortified border positions and moving stealthily forward. Before the sun would rise in the white morning haze, Karpov would have units in motion all over Northern Sakhalin Island. He would seize that port, cut the rail line further south, secure three airstrip sites, and the vital Lazarev Ferry. In doing so, he would also cut off the site where Japanese oilfield engineers were laboring to drill through the frozen ground to find that much needed oil.

The attack was coming a full month before the Japanese ever thought it could be mounted. Once again, Tojo and the High Command had completely underestimated the Siberians capabilities, and the sudden invasion, along with an unexpected development on Fiji, was now going to force Admiral Yamamoto to make a very difficult decision.

Halsey had moved as ordered, slipping down to the Fijis and sending his considerable air wing in to pound the Japanese. A squadron of planes that had been flown off the Hiyo to Noumea the previous January were the unlucky group that met the American Wildcats. There were only 12 A5M Claudes in the fighter group, and an equal number of D3A Vals up that day, and they were going to run into Lt. Gray and Fighting 6 off the Enterprise. The US carriers now enjoyed a windfall with many pilots recovered from the Lexington the previous year off Hawaii. One of them was Lieutenant Gordon Firebaugh, a competent flyer with a knack for making smart evasive maneuvers to foil enemy gun passes, and then getting after them with his own MGs in short order.

Firebaugh led a section of VF-6 that had some very other talented pilots, including Machinist Donald Runyon, who knew his plane inside and out, from the engine to the hydraulics and every moving part. It was as if his inherent knowledge of the machine itself translated into knowhow in using it. He seemed to know just how fast he could make a turn, when to best apply flaps, and how much power to give the engine. He was going to be one of the very best in VF-6, and started making his first kills that day against those Claudes. Lt. Lou Bauer was also up that day, a man who was in line to succeed Grey as the Squadron Leader. He and his wing mate Howard Packard were eager to find some action.

When they encountered the thin enemy CAP over Nandi, the Americans had a feast, downing 4 Claudes in little time and sending the rest home. The bombing that followed made that landing a hazardous one, and any of the AM5s that had been on station took an equal pounding from the SBD pilots. Airfields were easy targets, and the US planes put over twenty holes in the runway near Nandi. In a matter of 45 minutes, Halsey had put that base, and most of the planes there, out of commission.

The enemy air threat dealt with, the SBD’s soon went to work on the port facilities near Nandi Bay. The last of the Japanese transports were already well out to sea, escorted by heavy cruisers Mogami and Maya, but that was the only Japanese naval surface threat still around the islands. When they learned that enemy carrier planes were attacking at Nandi Bay, the only wise thing they could do was continue withdrawing to Noumea at their best speed. Two damaged transports that had been beached along the shore were also going to remain there permanently. What was left of the docks and quays there and at the smaller port of Tauva to the north were blasted apart and set on fire. The old shore battery positions once occupied by the Kiwis got another good working over, and any concentration of Japanese troops, tents, or vehicles were all fair game.

The appearance of this overwhelming air power was quite a boost to the morale of the disheartened Kiwi forces that had made the long retreat to the southern coast. They had been grumbling that the Americans seemed to always be one step ahead of them, falling back towards Suva. “The Yanks haven’t got the stomach for this,” said one Sergeant—until he saw those beautiful blue planes come in, wings wagging, and the bombs whistling down on the enemy behind them.

To make matters worse for the enemy, the US battleships and escorting cruisers were authorized to make a visit to the enemy that night. In a reverse of the fate suffered by the Marines on Guadalcanal, enduring the pounding by Japanese battleships which came down the Slot each night, now it was the enemy taking the beating from those big new 16-inch guns. After this heavy one-two punch on the 26th and 27th of April, the Japanese could say they still held most of the western portion of Viti Levu, but the facilities and airfields they had come to capture, the bases they would need to support and sustain operations, had been badly damaged.

Halsey and the Navy had taken the fight right to the enemy, and it felt good to be dishing it out instead of receiving for a change. And ready or not, Vandegrift now had three regiments of Marines on the Presidential Convoy, and they were heading for Suva Bay. Once ashore, they would nearly double the Allied troop strength on the ground, and soon the hunters would become the hunted. The hardened Japanese troops were about to encounter much stiffer odds than they expected, but they were still intent on continuing their offensive operation.

That was both a common trait and shortcoming when Japanese land operations were concerned. The seasoned Army troops and their commanders had tasted nothing but one victory after another. The men of the Abe Detachment, for example, had first become veterans in China, where their division gained a reputation for ferocity and atrocity. They then bested one US and Pilipino unit after another on the Philippines, and easily subdued the Dutch on Java when they stormed ashore near Surabaya. They were tough troops, offensive minded, and with a preference for infiltrating, enfilading and attacking, even against positions that had not been well scouted.

If the Japanese had known that there was already a full US division at Suva, and that it was about to be reinforced by the Old Breed in a matter of days, they might have hesitated and begun digging in to fixed fortifications. Yet at this point in the war, the Japanese had literally ‘nothing to fear.’ They were soon about to learn that these US divisions were going to be well armed, well led, and determined to reverse the sliding fortunes of the Allied cause in this war. The Japanese had thought they were playing their endgame to a sure and certain conclusion with this invasion. The pawns the US had husbanded throughout the early months of the war were still green, but they were now about to be crowned and become powerful new and unexpected forces on the board.