The Destroyermen

[Trainbrain16]

"Fuck." Adrian thought as he went to the gun and loaded the first round on the belt of ammunition into the weapon before pulling the charging handle back and watched as it slid forward priming the .50 to fire. He started to scan the skies for any zeros or Kate torpedo planes that might be launching from any carriers the IJN might have in the area, he looked around him and saw he was situated in between two larger AA cannons and he also saw he had five more 100 round ammo boxes near him though if this was anything like the other battles with the IJN then he was gonna need a lot more.

(Ohh, yeah, did I mention the Japs have air support inbound from FOUR fleet carriers? Akagi, Kaga, Sōryū, and Hiryū‍‍ all sent planes after them. lol BTW, the 4"/50s are ship-to-ship only, they aren't AA or DP guns. The only other AA weapons are the two .30 cals on the aft deckhouse and the 3"/23 caliber gun on the fantail.)

Eventually the Japanese heavy cruisers firing those salvoes could be seen in the distance and the destroyers started laying a smokescreen to shield Exeter and Black Hawk from the shellfire. The British cruiser's own gunners started firing, since her lookouts could see over the smoke, but the Jap shells seemed to stem off for the time. In the distance, though, a swarm of little tiny black specks could be seen contrasting against the white clouds high above them, heading in their direction.

 

[Dakota K5]

(Ohh, yeah, did I mention the Japs have air support inbound from FOUR fleet carriers? Akagi, Kaga, Sōryū, and Hiryū‍‍ all sent planes after them. lol BTW, the 4"/50s are ship-to-ship only, they aren't AA or DP guns. The only other AA weapons are the two .30 cals on the aft deckhouse and the 3"/23 caliber gun on the fantail.)

Eventually the Japanese heavy cruisers firing those salvoes could be seen in the distance and the destroyers started laying a smokescreen to shield Exeter and Black Hawk from the shellfire. The British cruiser's own gunners started firing, since her lookouts could see over the smoke, but the Jap shells seemed to stem off for the time. In the distance, though, a swarm of little tiny black specks could be seen contrasting against the white clouds high above them, heading in their direction.

(And you know in this situation until a broadside happened all possible guns are gonna be pointed up in the sky.)

Adrian's gun was pointed towards the sky even though it was a ship to ship gun, the long range duel was a sight to see but Adrian had no time for sight seeing when another klaxon went off as the black and white specks of jap planes came screaming at them. He opened the gun up as he fired the large 50. cal rounds skywards, he knew he was hitting but he didn't have enough fire power to put anything other than a zero out of commission but that was still iffy. As he emptied the second box of 50. cal ammo skyward he saw a jap ship passing in between his ship and another one that he hadn't the time to ID as shell fire ripped into that ship, he pointed his gun at the deck of the Japanese ship and sighted the little specks moving along the surface before he let the gun loose. He was reloading the gun when one of the Japanese ship's smaller secondary cannon's sighted towards him, he threw himself on the Deck just in time as the Jap shell ripped through the 50 and the side plating of the ship wall behind him. He got up and saw plumes of black smoke rising around in the distance as torpedoes slammed into the Exeter before the ship started to list up. He stumbled past another gun that has been hit, all the gunners were nothing but charred husks of men but he had to keep going to try and find wounded to help if he could.

 

[Trainbrain16]

(And you know in this situation until a broadside happened all possible guns are gonna be pointed up in the sky.)

Adrian's gun was pointed towards the sky even though it was a ship to ship gun, the long range duel was a sight to see but Adrian had no time for sight seeing when another klaxon went off as the black and white specks of jap planes came screaming at them. He opened the gun up as he fired the large 50. cal rounds skywards, he knew he was hitting but he didn't have enough fire power to put anything other than a zero out of commission but that was still iffy. As he emptied the second box of 50. cal ammo skyward he saw a jap ship passing in between his ship and another one that he hadn't the time to ID as shell fire ripped into that ship, he pointed his gun at the deck of the Japanese ship and sighted the little specks moving along the surface before he let the gun loose. He was reloading the gun when one of the Japanese ship's smaller secondary cannon's sighted towards him, he threw himself on the Deck just in time as the Jap shell ripped through the 50 and the side plating of the ship wall behind him. He got up and saw plumes of black smoke rising around in the distance as torpedoes slammed into the Exeter before the ship started to list up. He stumbled past another gun that has been hit, all the gunners were nothing but charred husks of men but he had to keep going to try and find wounded to help if he could.

"Surface target! Starboard quarter! We got four Nip destroyers coming out of the smoke! God, they're fast!" Dirk's XO shouted to him as they had first sighted the four enemy vessels emerging from the smokescreen and making a beeline for Exeter. "They must be making at least 35 knots!" Their actual speed was just over 39 knots, but there was no way for them to know that at this moment.
"Gun crews, load!"
"Fire at the lead ship in the formation as soon as you're ready!" Dirk bellowed to his gunnery officer Greg Garrett. "Conn, starboard ten degrees!"
At this distance the rangefinder was useless due to the vibrations, but Garrett estimated the range. "Fire up-ladder! Range nine-five-double-ohh!" After the range, bearing, and apparent speed of the target were fed into it, the mechanical fire-control computer reached a solution.
"Surface action starboard, match pointers!" Garrett shouted. After a moment he turned to the captain and said "The guns are ready, sir!"
"Commence firing," Dirk replied calmly.
"Three rounds, salvo fire! Commence firing!" Garrett yelled as he stabbed the salvo buzzer button. The nerve-racking, jangling RAAAAA of the buzzer was almost instantly overwhelmed by the simultaneous concussion of three 4-inch guns. Even before the first rounds fell, the buzzer sounded again and the second salvo was on its way. Splashes kicked up beyond and astern of the closest enemy destroyer, but seconds later more splashes rose among the ships when their friends opened fire as well. The third salvo seemed to have the range, but it was still behind the enemy. "They're even faster than I thought! I guess I didn't lead them enough," Garrett said apologetically. He fed corrections into the computer. Somebody got a lucky hit with the first salvo, and the third Japanese destroyer belched black smoke from her curiously raked 'stack and slowed out of line. There were a few cheers before a Jap shell smashed into Walker's side on the forward deck house. It was probably armor piercing, thank God, since it passed through the ship without exploding, but it seemed that only the enemy guns that physically couldn't bear at the friendly cruiser were firing at them.
"They're making for Exeter!" Dirk yelled as the Walker's guns fired again. "Get on them, Mr. Garrett!"

The plane that Adrian had been firing at, a "Judy" dive bomber, pulled up from its strafing run and came around to make another pass against the ship, but was quickly blasted out of the sky by the 3"/23 caliber "Pom-poms" on Walker, Mahan, and Black Hawk. However, another plane, a Zero, came diving in to try and make its own strafing run. Small splashes could be seen in the water, quickly stitching a line towards where Adrian was.

 

[Dakota K5]

"Surface target! Starboard quarter! We got four Nip destroyers coming out of the smoke! God, they're fast!" Dirk's XO shouted to him as they had first sighted the four enemy vessels emerging from the smokescreen and making a beeline for Exeter. "They must be making at least 35 knots!" Their actual speed was just over 39 knots, but there was no way for them to know that at this moment.
"Gun crews, load!"
"Fire at the lead ship in the formation as soon as you're ready!" Dirk bellowed to his gunnery officer Greg Garrett. "Conn, starboard ten degrees!"
At this distance the rangefinder was useless due to the vibrations, but Garrett estimated the range. "Fire up-ladder! Range nine-five-double-ohh!" After the range, bearing, and apparent speed of the target were fed into it, the mechanical fire-control computer reached a solution.
"Surface action starboard, match pointers!" Garrett shouted. After a moment he turned to the captain and said "The guns are ready, sir!"
"Commence firing," Dirk replied calmly.
"Three rounds, salvo fire! Commence firing!" Garrett yelled as he stabbed the salvo buzzer button. The nerve-racking, jangling RAAAAA of the buzzer was almost instantly overwhelmed by the simultaneous concussion of three 4-inch guns. Even before the first rounds fell, the buzzer sounded again and the second salvo was on its way. Splashes kicked up beyond and astern of the closest enemy destroyer, but seconds later more splashes rose among the ships when their friends opened fire as well. The third salvo seemed to have the range, but it was still behind the enemy. "They're even faster than I thought! I guess I didn't lead them enough," Garrett said apologetically. He fed corrections into the computer. Somebody got a lucky hit with the first salvo, and the third Japanese destroyer belched black smoke from her curiously raked 'stack and slowed out of line. There were a few cheers before a Jap shell smashed into Walker's side on the forward deck house. It was probably armor piercing, thank God, since it passed through the ship without exploding, but it seemed that only the enemy guns that physically couldn't bear at the friendly cruiser were firing at them.
"They're making for Exeter!" Dirk yelled as the Walker's guns fired again. "Get on them, Mr. Garrett!"

The plane that Adrian had been firing at, a "Judy" dive bomber, pulled up from its strafing run and came around to make another pass against the ship, but was quickly blasted out of the sky by the 3"/23 caliber "Pom-poms" on Walker, Mahan, and Black Hawk. However, another plane, a Zero, came diving in to try and make its own strafing run. Small splashes could be seen in the water, quickly stitching a line towards where Adrian was.

"Double fuck." Adrian thought as the rounds cut near him damaging the wooden deck and sending splinters of wood into his back, his bandage on his hand had fallen off long ago though the wound was tender it was mostly healed. He stood up and felt the warm blood running down his back, he walked through the smoke drifting from the other ships still floating. He slumped against a wall of the ship and passed in and out of consciousness from the smoke inhalation and his wounds, the inky blackness around his vision seemed to mock him as the Marine remembered the fight on Java.

 

[Trainbrain16]

"Double fuck." Adrian thought as the rounds cut near him damaging the wooden deck and sending splinters of wood into his back, his bandage on his hand had fallen off long ago though the wound was tender it was mostly healed. He stood up and felt the warm blood running down his back, he walked through the smoke drifting from the other ships still floating. He slumped against a wall of the ship and passed in and out of consciousness from the smoke inhalation and his wounds, the inky blackness around his vision seemed to mock him as the Marine remembered the fight on Java.

("Double fuck"! Lmfao, this guy!)

Another salvo slammed out from Walker, and this one looked on target, but there were no explosions. Either they were shooting long by just a hair, or the shells were passing through the thin-skinned Japanese ships without detonating.
"That's it!" shouted Garrett into his comm. "No change! No change! Rapid fire, let her have it!" The geysers erupting around the advancing enemy now resembled those that had bracketed Exeter a short time before, if not in size then certainly in volume.
"Skipper," Dirk's PO spoke up. Captain Blinn on Pope sends to execute a starboard turn in column and prepare to fire torpedoes." Blinn was senior to both Dirk and Captain Atkinson on Mahan and had authority over the three American DDs.
"Very well, acknowledge. Mr. Kutas, bring us in behind Mahan when she makes her turn."
Back aft the torpedo officer adjusted his headset while an ordinance striker fiddled with the connection linking the antiquated torpedo director to the mounts on the starboard side. As the four destroyers accelerated to block the enemy thrust, his eyes burned when they turned into their own smoke screen.
"Sir," commented Kutas. "Exeter's firing torpedoes." He pointed at the cruiser, now off their port bow. Puffs of smoke drifted from her amidships tubes, but the splashes when the weapons hit the water couldn't be distinguished from those of the enemy shells. Then, as they looked on, there was a small reddish flash between Exeter's two funnels. A column of black smoke rocketed skyward and a cloud of escaping steam enshrouded her amidships. Except for the racket of the blowers and the wind, there was stunned silence in Walker's pilothouse, broken only by someone's soft, pleading murmur.
"No, oh no... no, please no..."
Dirk didn't know who said it. It might have been him. Somebody cursed loudly. Exeter's speed dropped to nearly nothing, as if she'd slammed into a wall. Shells rained down and more began to hit as she wallowed on helplessly at barely four knots. The Allied destroyers executed another turn, in column, and ran up Exeter's starboard side, placing themselves between the doomed cruiser and the oncoming enemy ships. Through the thinning haze of the smoke screen, the Japanese cruisers were visible, much closer than before. At the head of the line, smoke and steam spewed from Encounter as her torpedoes leaped into the sea. The two American destroyers ahead followed suit.
"Engage as they bear with the starboard tubes," Dirk yelled.
"Aye, aye, sir!" came the reply. "Torpedo action starboard! In salvo! Fire one, fire three, fire five! Fire seven, fire nine, fire eleven!"
Dirk peered around the chart house. The amidships deckhouse was in the way, but he saw the cutoff-looking muzzles of the pair of starboard triple launchers angled out thirty degrees from the side of the ship. As he watched, the first three 21-inch MK-15 torpedoes thumped out, one after another, the sun shining on their burnished metal bodies as they plunged into the sea with enormous concave splashes. They disappeared, but a moment later dense trails of effervescent bubbles rose to the surface in their wakes as someone back aft shouted "FISH IN THE WATER! FISH IN THE WATER!" There were only three trails, however.
"Sir, there's a casualty on the number-three mount. They don't know what it is yet, but the fish are secure."
Dirk swallowed a curse. It probably wasn't anyone's fault, just worn out equipment. "Very well. Let me know what you find out. Light a fire under it, though. I want those torpedoes!"

Someone spotted Adrian and rushed over to him, shaking him hard to try and wake him up fully as the Zero started coming around again. "Hey, dude! Get up, we can't have you just lying around here, you're liable to have your head blown off!" It was right about then that Exeter received her first hit that sealed her fate and the sailor jerked his head to look in shock and disbelief. "Ohh SHIT! The Brit cruiser's hit and bad!"

 

[Dakota K5]

("Double fuck"! Lmfao, this guy!)

Another salvo slammed out from Walker, and this one looked on target, but there were no explosions. Either they were shooting long by just a hair, or the shells were passing through the thin-skinned Japanese ships without detonating.
"That's it!" shouted Garrett into his comm. "No change! No change! Rapid fire, let her have it!" The geysers erupting around the advancing enemy now resembled those that had bracketed Exeter a short time before, if not in size then certainly in volume.
"Skipper," Dirk's PO spoke up. Captain Blinn on Pope sends to execute a starboard turn in column and prepare to fire torpedoes." Blinn was senior to both Dirk and Captain Atkinson on Mahan and had authority over the three American DDs.
"Very well, acknowledge. Mr. Kutas, bring us in behind Mahan when she makes her turn."
Back aft the torpedo officer adjusted his headset while an ordinance striker fiddled with the connection linking the antiquated torpedo director to the mounts on the starboard side. As the four destroyers accelerated to block the enemy thrust, his eyes burned when they turned into their own smoke screen.
"Sir," commented Kutas. "Exeter's firing torpedoes." He pointed at the cruiser, now off their port bow. Puffs of smoke drifted from her amidships tubes, but the splashes when the weapons hit the water couldn't be distinguished from those of the enemy shells. Then, as they looked on, there was a small reddish flash between Exeter's two funnels. A column of black smoke rocketed skyward and a cloud of escaping steam enshrouded her amidships. Except for the racket of the blowers and the wind, there was stunned silence in Walker's pilothouse, broken only by someone's soft, pleading murmur.
"No, oh no... no, please no..."
Dirk didn't know who said it. It might have been him. Somebody cursed loudly. Exeter's speed dropped to nearly nothing, as if she'd slammed into a wall. Shells rained down and more began to hit as she wallowed on helplessly at barely four knots. The Allied destroyers executed another turn, in column, and ran up Exeter's starboard side, placing themselves between the doomed cruiser and the oncoming enemy ships. Through the thinning haze of the smoke screen, the Japanese cruisers were visible, much closer than before. At the head of the line, smoke and steam spewed from Encounter as her torpedoes leaped into the sea. The two American destroyers ahead followed suit.
"Engage as they bear with the starboard tubes," Dirk yelled.
"Aye, aye, sir!" came the reply. "Torpedo action starboard! In salvo! Fire one, fire three, fire five! Fire seven, fire nine, fire eleven!"
Dirk peered around the chart house. The amidships deckhouse was in the way, but he saw the cutoff-looking muzzles of the pair of starboard triple launchers angled out thirty degrees from the side of the ship. As he watched, the first three 21-inch MK-15 torpedoes thumped out, one after another, the sun shining on their burnished metal bodies as they plunged into the sea with enormous concave splashes. They disappeared, but a moment later dense trails of effervescent bubbles rose to the surface in their wakes as someone back aft shouted "FISH IN THE WATER! FISH IN THE WATER!" There were only three trails, however.
"Sir, there's a casualty on the number-three mount. They don't know what it is yet, but the fish are secure."
Dirk swallowed a curse. It probably wasn't anyone's fault, just worn out equipment. "Very well. Let me know what you find out. Light a fire under it, though. I want those torpedoes!"

Someone spotted Adrian and rushed over to him, shaking him hard to try and wake him up fully as the Zero started coming around again. "Hey, dude! Get up, we can't have you just lying around here, you're liable to have your head blown off!" It was right about then that Exeter received her first hit that sealed her fate and the sailor jerked his head to look in shock and disbelief. "Ohh SHIT! The Brit cruiser's hit and bad!"

Adrian eyes were stung from the diesel fumes as he slid himself up on the wall painting it red with his blood as he went, the sailor looked on in horror as Adrian walked his way out of the puddle of his blood that had pooled under him. "First my hand now my goddamn back." He said to no one specific as shells and gun fire rained around him and the ship, he slumped again on a interior wall that has shielded him from the gun fire and shrapnel and passed out again.

 

[Trainbrain16]

Adrian eyes were stung from the diesel fumes as he slid himself up on the wall painting it red with his blood as he went, the sailor looked on in horror as Adrian walked his way out of the puddle of his blood that had pooled under him. "First my hand now my goddamn back." He said to no one specific as shells and gun fire rained around him and the ship, he slumped again on a interior wall that has shielded him from the gun fire and shrapnel and passed out again.

"SIR, lookout reports torpedoes in the water!"
Of course there were, Dirk thought. It took him a second for the realization to hit him. "JAP torpedoes! Right full rudder!" Walker heeled sharply to port as she turned towards the torpedoes to try and slip between them and present the smallest target. The other three destroyers followed suit and soon the wakes of the lethal Japanese weapons passed beyond them. Their momentary relief at evading the torpedoes was shattered when they were brutally reminded of the one member of their group who couldn't evade anything. A towering column of water spouted directly under Exeter's aft funnel on her starboard side. She heeled hard to port then rolled back into a pronounced starboard list. A heavy secondary explosion sent debris and smoke high into the air.
The salvo buzzer rang. Wham!
They couldn't worry about Exeter now. Waterspouts were rising around Walker again, and there was a loud noise somewhere aft.
"Damage report!"
"Nothing serious, Skipper. A new hole in the aft funnel. The shell didn't explode. It must've been armor-piercing, and its not like we have any armor."
Raaaaa! Wham! Cheers erupted from fire control when a big explosion rocked a Japanese destroyer. It veered hard out of formation, smoke obscuring the bridge. The other two enemy destroyers finally broke off their attack and retreated behind a smoke screen of their own, towards the protection of the remorselessly approaching cruisers.
"Skipper." The grim voice was Dirk's PO. "Signal from Exeter to all ships. Captain Gordon says thanks for the help, but he'll take it from here." Dirk strode to the port bridgewing and stared at the once-handsome ship that had seen so much action in this war before the United States was even involved. She'd hounded the Graf Spee to her doom, but past glory meant nothing now. Lifeboats were in the water and men were going over the side. He took a deep breath.
"Acknowledge. And send, 'Good luck, Exeter. God bless.'"
Shells still pummeled the helpless cruiser as Walker, last in line, sped impotently by. Dirk slapped the rail in frustration. "God help them," he muttered. God help us, he added to himself. Another huge explosion convulsed Exeter, and she rapidly rolled over onto the boats and men in the water. He could see the red paint of her bottom come up on the far side as her superstructure disappeared into the sea. And still the shells fell unrelentingly, and he saw the grim expressions of his crew as they watched the once mighty cruiser go down.
"Skipper..." it was his PO again. "Signal from Pope. She says to resume line abreast and continue making smoke. She also wants to know if we can increase speed."
"Acknowledge, and tell her we'll try."

The sailor watched the goings on in muted horror, then got someone else nearby to help him pick Adrian up and move him towards the medical bay.

 

[Dakota K5]

"SIR, lookout reports torpedoes in the water!"
Of course there were, Dirk thought. It took him a second for the realization to hit him. "JAP torpedoes! Right full rudder!" Walker heeled sharply to port as she turned towards the torpedoes to try and slip between them and present the smallest target. The other three destroyers followed suit and soon the wakes of the lethal Japanese weapons passed beyond them. Their momentary relief at evading the torpedoes was shattered when they were brutally reminded of the one member of their group who couldn't evade anything. A towering column of water spouted directly under Exeter's aft funnel on her starboard side. She heeled hard to port then rolled back into a pronounced starboard list. A heavy secondary explosion sent debris and smoke high into the air.
The salvo buzzer rang. Wham!
They couldn't worry about Exeter now. Waterspouts were rising around Walker again, and there was a loud noise somewhere aft.
"Damage report!"
"Nothing serious, Skipper. A new hole in the aft funnel. The shell didn't explode. It must've been armor-piercing, and its not like we have any armor."
Raaaaa! Wham! Cheers erupted from fire control when a big explosion rocked a Japanese destroyer. It veered hard out of formation, smoke obscuring the bridge. The other two enemy destroyers finally broke off their attack and retreated behind a smoke screen of their own, towards the protection of the remorselessly approaching cruisers.
"Skipper." The grim voice was Dirk's PO. "Signal from Exeter to all ships. Captain Gordon says thanks for the help, but he'll take it from here." Dirk strode to the port bridgewing and stared at the once-handsome ship that had seen so much action in this war before the United States was even involved. She'd hounded the Graf Spee to her doom, but past glory meant nothing now. Lifeboats were in the water and men were going over the side. He took a deep breath.
"Acknowledge. And send, 'Good luck, Exeter. God bless.'"
Shells still pummeled the helpless cruiser as Walker, last in line, sped impotently by. Dirk slapped the rail in frustration. "God help them," he muttered. God help us, he added to himself. Another huge explosion convulsed Exeter, and she rapidly rolled over onto the boats and men in the water. He could see the red paint of her bottom come up on the far side as her superstructure disappeared into the sea. And still the shells fell unrelentingly, and he saw the grim expressions of his crew as they watched the once mighty cruiser go down.
"Skipper..." it was his PO again. "Signal from Pope. She says to resume line abreast and continue making smoke. She also wants to know if we can increase speed."
"Acknowledge, and tell her we'll try."

The sailor watched the goings on in muted horror, then got someone else nearby to help him pick Adrian up and move him towards the medical bay.

(Adrian is still out he will awake in the medbay.)

Dreams, dreams are what he saw as his body lay useless and limp. The marine's training flowing to him keeping itself sharp for when the marine needed them to either defend his own or persecute his targets, the drills, the PT and the marksmanship all culminating in this one body, this one man who had so gracefully walked with his brothers into death's waiting embrace on multiple occasions only to walk away alone to bury his brothers in the cold unfeeling earthen tombs that every marine was destined for. While his body was useless his mind was ready and waiting for it's time again.

 

[Trainbrain16]

(Adrian is still out he will awake in the medbay.)

(Alright)
The next hours were like a feverish nightmare. They gained some distance on the cruisers, but they never moved completely out of range. Periodic savage salvos churned the sea around them, and all the destroyers were damaged, mostly by near misses. An eight-inch shell detonating close aboard made a hell of a concussion and Walker's riveted seams leaked in a dozen places. More enemy aircraft appeared, and they finally cut the smoke, figuring it just made them easier to spot from the air. Only fighters had appeared so far, aside from a few "Judys" earlier on, but they strafed the ships repeatedly. They soon decided to wait for the bombers and cruisers to finish the job, however, after quite a few of their number few victim to the AA fire from the destroyers and the larger Black Hawk. One plane narrowly missed Mahan as it plunged into the sea. A few tantalizing squalls marched across the horizon, but it seemed they could never reach them. Dirk vigorously rubbed his eyes and looked at his exhausted bridge crew and their haunted expressions. The trauma of watching Exeter's destruction--the most powerful member of their group--had etched itself on their faces, and he knew they believed it was only a matter of time before they all met a similar fate. One by one.
Encounter's turn came next, and with appalling suddenness. Another ranging salvo of eight-inch shells screeched in, the sun glinting off the projectiles in flight. Geysers of spume marched across the sea--and across the British destroyer. In the blink of and eye, for all intents and purposes, she was gone. When the spray cleared, all that remained was twisted wreckage, already awash, and a few men scurrying about the buckled deck, throwing anything that would float into the sea. The three tired grey-hounds raced on. There was nothing they could do. Dirk knew it on a rational level, but deep down he felt an overwhelming sense of shame. His jaw muscles tensed, and he ground his teeth as he forced himself to watch Encounter slip farther and farther astern. "I'm getting tired of leaving people behind..." he muttered.
The voice of his lookout in the crow's nest far above him came through a speaking tube near him. "Skipper, there's a promising cloud off the starboard bow. Looks like it's working up to rain pretty good."
"Signal from Pope," his PO added. "Make for the squall."
"Acknowledge. Helm, starboard ten."
They pressed onwards and made it to the temporary safety of the rain squall, but not before a flight of six Jap dive bombers were upon them, a pair attacking each of the remaining destroyers. Walker and Mahan dealt with theirs relatively easily with help from Black Hawk's single 3"/23 AA gun and her four 5"/38 DP mounts, but they couldn't see how bad they got Pope, who was farther ahead, before an arm of the squall separated them visually from each other. They didn't have time to contemplate if they'd just lost another of their friends before they, too, were swallowed by the squall.

"Ahh, come on," Connie groaned as Adrian was brought in to her again. "Didn't I literally JUST fix you!?..."

 

[Dakota K5]

(Alright)
The next hours were like a feverish nightmare. They gained some distance on the cruisers, but they never moved completely out of range. Periodic savage salvos churned the sea around them, and all the destroyers were damaged, mostly by near misses. An eight-inch shell detonating close aboard made a hell of a concussion and Walker's riveted seams leaked in a dozen places. More enemy aircraft appeared, and they finally cut the smoke, figuring it just made them easier to spot from the air. Only fighters had appeared so far, aside from a few "Judys" earlier on, but they strafed the ships repeatedly. They soon decided to wait for the bombers and cruisers to finish the job, however, after quite a few of their number few victim to the AA fire from the destroyers and the larger Black Hawk. One plane narrowly missed Mahan as it plunged into the sea. A few tantalizing squalls marched across the horizon, but it seemed they could never reach them. Dirk vigorously rubbed his eyes and looked at his exhausted bridge crew and their haunted expressions. The trauma of watching Exeter's destruction--the most powerful member of their group--had etched itself on their faces, and he knew they believed it was only a matter of time before they all met a similar fate. One by one.
Encounter's turn came next, and with appalling suddenness. Another ranging salvo of eight-inch shells screeched in, the sun glinting off the projectiles in flight. Geysers of spume marched across the sea--and across the British destroyer. In the blink of and eye, for all intents and purposes, she was gone. When the spray cleared, all that remained was twisted wreckage, already awash, and a few men scurrying about the buckled deck, throwing anything that would float into the sea. The three tired grey-hounds raced on. There was nothing they could do. Dirk knew it on a rational level, but deep down he felt an overwhelming sense of shame. His jaw muscles tensed, and he ground his teeth as he forced himself to watch Encounter slip farther and farther astern. "I'm getting tired of leaving people behind..." he muttered.
The voice of his lookout in the crow's nest far above him came through a speaking tube near him. "Skipper, there's a promising cloud off the starboard bow. Looks like it's working up to rain pretty good."
"Signal from Pope," his PO added. "Make for the squall."
"Acknowledge. Helm, starboard ten."
They pressed onwards and made it to the temporary safety of the rain squall, but not before a flight of six Jap dive bombers were upon them, a pair attacking each of the remaining destroyers. Walker and Mahan dealt with theirs relatively easily with help from Black Hawk's single 3"/23 AA gun and her four 5"/38 DP mounts, but they couldn't see how bad they got Pope, who was farther ahead, before an arm of the squall separated them visually from each other. They didn't have time to contemplate if they'd just lost another of their friends before they, too, were swallowed by the squall.

"Ahh, come on," Connie groaned as Adrian was brought in to her again. "Didn't I literally JUST fix you!?..."

Adrian's eye's fluttered open at the sound of Connie's voice. "Bitch at the man that had me on a 50. up top." He groaned out as she was pulling out the wood fragments from his back. "How are you holding up down here Connie?" He asked as the storm above rocked the ship.

 

[Trainbrain16]

Adrian's eye's fluttered open at the sound of Connie's voice. "Bitch at the man that had me on a .50 up top." He groaned out as she was pulling out the wood fragments from his back. "How are you holding up down here Connie?" He asked as the storm above rocked the ship.

They kept charging east through the squall and a few hours later, with almost the same suddenness that they'd entered it, they drove out of the squall into the afternoon sunshine. The bridge crew all blinked their eyes against the glare, and the water on the decks and in their clothes began to steam. Then, less than five hundred yards to port, Mahan emerged and seemed to shake herself off like a wet dog as she increased speed. Just behind and about equidistant between them, Black Hawk soon emerged from the rain storm as well. Men immediately scanned for their enemies.
"Oh, my God, Skipper! Look!" someone shouted. Garrett swore and Dirk shouldered in beside him on the starboard bridgewing. He felt like his heart had stopped. There, about four miles off the starboard beam, Pope was enduring her final moments in agony. She wallowed helplessly, low by the stern, while aircraft swirled like vultures in the sky above. Massive waterspouts rose around her as the spotting planes summonded the cruiser's fire upon their carrion.
"Skipper! Can't we... I mean, is there...?" a young sailor said before clamping his mouth shut, realizing the pointlessness of his appeal. Then he looked at his captain's face and was shocked by the twisted, desperate rage upon it. With an audible animal growl, Captain Dirk spun back into the pilothouse. Ahead, about seven miles away, another squall brewed. It was huge, darker than the last one, almost green, and it blotted out much of the horizon. For some reason, it seemed to radiate an aura of threat nearly as intense as the force that pursued them so relentlessly.
"Make for that squall!" ordered Dirk in a tone none of the men had ever heard him use. It was the voice of command, but with an inflection of perfect hatred. "Signal Mahan and Black Hawk. We'll keep this interval in case we have to maneuver. Helm, ahead flank!"

"Glad to see you're awake," Connie said as she noticed the sounds of the rain hitting the ship's deck suddenly stop as they left the first storm. "I'm holding up alright, thanks for asking. Not many patients just yet, though I'm pretty certain that's not going to last much longer. Now, how the hell did you manage to get this in you?" She held up the nearly foot-long spike of wood that she'd extracted from his back in the several hours that he'd been passed out and they'd all been in the first squall.

 

[Dakota K5]

They kept charging east through the squall and a few hours later, with almost the same suddenness that they'd entered it, they drove out of the squall into the afternoon sunshine. The bridge crew all blinked their eyes against the glare, and the water on the decks and in their clothes began to steam. Then, less than five hundred yards to port, Mahan emerged and seemed to shake herself off like a wet dog as she increased speed. Just behind and about equidistant between them, Black Hawk soon emerged from the rain storm as well. Men immediately scanned for their enemies.
"Oh, my God, Skipper! Look!" someone shouted. Garrett swore and Dirk shouldered in beside him on the starboard bridgewing. He felt like his heart had stopped. There, about four miles off the starboard beam, Pope was enduring her final moments in agony. She wallowed helplessly, low by the stern, while aircraft swirled like vultures in the sky above. Massive waterspouts rose around her as the spotting planes summonded the cruiser's fire upon their carrion.
"Skipper! Can't we... I mean, is there...?" a young sailor said before clamping his mouth shut, realizing the pointlessness of his appeal. Then he looked at his captain's face and was shocked by the twisted, desperate rage upon it. With an audible animal growl, Captain Dirk spun back into the pilothouse. Ahead, about seven miles away, another squall brewed. It was huge, darker than the last one, almost green, and it blotted out much of the horizon. For some reason, it seemed to radiate an aura of threat nearly as intense as the force that pursued them so relentlessly.
"Make for that squall!" ordered Dirk in a tone none of the men had ever heard him use. It was the voice of command, but with an inflection of perfect hatred. "Signal Mahan and Black Hawk. We'll keep this interval in case we have to maneuver. Helm, ahead flank!"

"Glad to see you're awake," Connie said as she noticed the sounds of the rain hitting the ship's deck suddenly stop as they left the first storm. "I'm holding up alright, thanks for asking. Not many patients just yet, though I'm pretty certain that's not going to last much longer. Now, how the hell did you manage to get this in you?" She held up the nearly foot-long spike of wood that she'd extracted from his back in the several hours that he'd been passed out and they'd all been in the first squall.

"Connie i'm a marine if dangerous objects aren't flying into me then I am not in the right place. You know our odds aren't looking to good right now." He said to her as the final pieces of wood were pulled out allowing him to sit up, thankfully his wounds weren't as bad as the amount of blood would show, only a few centimeters deep with the foot long spike being the worst one which was causing a majority of the bleeding.

 

[Trainbrain16]

"Connie i'm a marine if dangerous objects aren't flying into me then I am not in the right place. You know our odds aren't looking to good right now." He said to her as the final pieces of wood were pulled out allowing him to sit up, thankfully his wounds weren't as bad as the amount of blood would show, only a few centimeters deep with the foot long spike being the worst one which was causing a majority of the bleeding.

(Shit's about to get real)
Another squall, lighter, was a little to the left of the one they were heading for. It was dissipating rapidly, though, as if the first was somehow draining it, feeding off it, sucking it's very force. As it diminished, two dark forms took shape.
"Holy Mary," muttered Garrett, crossing himself unconsciously.
Before them, racing to prevent escape into the looming rainstorm, were yet another destroyer and a massive capital ship. There was a collective gasp.
After a moment of studying the apparition through his binoculars, Dirk spoke. "That, gentlemen, is Amagi." His voice was harsh but matter-of-fact. "She's a battlecruiser. Not quite a battleship, but way heavier than a cruiser. I know it's her"--he smiled ironically, but his expression was hard--"because she's the only one they have left. Built in the twenties, so she's almost as old as we are"--he snorted--"but they've spent money on her since. Major rebuild a few years ago. Anyways, I remember her because I was always impressed by how fast the Japs could make so much metal move." He sighed. "I guess it's fitting, after everything else, she should show up here. They really don't want us to get away."
He turned and spoke to his PO in a voice that was white-hot steel. "Signal Mahan to prepare for a torpedo attack with port tubes, and tell Black Hawk to stick close and focus on any aircraft that decide to bug us." He crossed his arms over his chest and his hands clenched into fists. "We can't go around her and we can't turn back. That leaves only one choice."
Garrett nodded with grim acceptance. "Yes, sir, we'll have to go right through the big son of a bitch."
Blowers roaring, haggard destroyermen performing their duties in an exhausted fugue, the three battered, venerable old ladies slightly altered course and together began their final charge. Dirk noticed that now even Captain Duvall was on the foredeck now, hauling shells. It was clear to everyone that getting past the two ships ahead and disappearing into the strange, ominous squall was their only hope. It was equally clear that it was impossible.
Ahead waited Amagi: 46,000 tons of cemented armor plate. As they watched, she began a leisurely turn to present her full broadside of ten 16--inch guns. Her secondary battery of 4.7-inch and 5.5-inch guns was entirely superfluous. The sleek new destroyer at her side was all but forgotten despite her guns and deadly "Long Lance" torpedoes. The additional threat she posed was laughably insignificant under the circumstances. She could have taken them all by herself.
The shriek and splash of incoming shells proved the cruisers behind hadn't forgotten them either, and the growling drone of propellors indicated the bombers had seen them too.
"Looks like every Jap in the Java Sea's in a race to sink us," mumbled Garrett.

Connie sighed heavily and sat down after a moment. "Don't remind me..." she muttered, looking like she was on the verge of breaking down into tears.

 

[Dakota K5]

(Shit's about to get real)
Another squall, lighter, was a little to the left of the one they were heading for. It was dissipating rapidly, though, as if the first was somehow draining it, feeding off it, sucking it's very force. As it diminished, two dark forms took shape.
"Holy Mary," muttered Garrett, crossing himself unconsciously.
Before them, racing to prevent escape into the looming rainstorm, were yet another destroyer and a massive capital ship. There was a collective gasp.
After a moment of studying the apparition through his binoculars, Dirk spoke. "That, gentlemen, is Amagi." His voice was harsh but matter-of-fact. "She's a battlecruiser. Not quite a battleship, but way heavier than a cruiser. I know it's her"--he smiled ironically, but his expression was hard--"because she's the only one they have left. Built in the twenties, so she's almost as old as we are"--he snorted--"but they've spent money on her since. Major rebuild a few years ago. Anyways, I remember her because I was always impressed by how fast the Japs could make so much metal move." He sighed. "I guess it's fitting, after everything else, she should show up here. They really don't want us to get away."
He turned and spoke to his PO in a voice that was white-hot steel. "Signal Mahan to prepare for a torpedo attack with port tubes, and tell Black Hawk to stick close and focus on any aircraft that decide to bug us." He crossed his arms over his chest and his hands clenched into fists. "We can't go around her and we can't turn back. That leaves only one choice."
Garrett nodded with grim acceptance. "Yes, sir, we'll have to go right through the big son of a bitch."
Blowers roaring, haggard destroyermen performing their duties in an exhausted fugue, the three battered, venerable old ladies slightly altered course and together began their final charge. Dirk noticed that now even Captain Duvall was on the foredeck now, hauling shells. It was clear to everyone that getting past the two ships ahead and disappearing into the strange, ominous squall was their only hope. It was equally clear that it was impossible.
Ahead waited Amagi: 46,000 tons of cemented armor plate. As they watched, she began a leisurely turn to present her full broadside of ten 16--inch guns. Her secondary battery of 4.7-inch and 5.5-inch guns was entirely superfluous. The sleek new destroyer at her side was all but forgotten despite her guns and deadly "Long Lance" torpedoes. The additional threat she posed was laughably insignificant under the circumstances. She could have taken them all by herself.
The shriek and splash of incoming shells proved the cruisers behind hadn't forgotten them either, and the growling drone of propellors indicated the bombers had seen them too.
"Looks like every Jap in the Java Sea's in a race to sink us," mumbled Garrett.

Connie sighed heavily and sat down after a moment. "Don't remind me..." she muttered, looking like she was on the verge of breaking down into tears.

Adrian rested a hand on her shoulder as he stood. "It could be worse, we could still be on Java." Adrian said as he relaxed against the bulkhead, the thought of death was a regular thing for him so this was less than new for him. "Who knows maybe a miracle will happen and we'll make it out of here." He walked to the steps of the medbay before turning to Connie. "Keep your strength, I don't think we are destined to die here and when we make it out all the young boys up there who are hurt are going to need you, their angel of mercy to heal their wounds." He said before he disappeared into the halls of the ship following sailors to the gun turrets to help load or anything else he might be able to do.

 

[Trainbrain16]

Adrian rested a hand on her shoulder as he stood. "It could be worse, we could still be on Java." Adrian said as he relaxed against the bulkhead, the thought of death was a regular thing for him so this was less than new for him. "Who knows maybe a miracle will happen and we'll make it out of here." He walked to the steps of the medbay before turning to Connie. "Keep your strength, I don't think we are destined to die here and when we make it out all the young boys up there who are hurt are going to need you, their angel of mercy to heal their wounds." He said before he disappeared into the halls of the ship following sailors to the gun turrets to help load or anything else he might be able to do.

Five miles away, Amagi opened fire. She pulsed with flame from one end to the other as she salvoed her big guns. Seconds later, the rattling roar of sixteen-inch shells thundered toward them. They sounded a lot deeper than the eights, Dirk reflected absently. Then he stepped into hell.
The first salvo fell short, but it threw up a wall of spray that drenched Greg Garrett and his team and probably soaked Lieutenant Rogers all the way up in the crow's nest. Rogers had fallen silent, and Garrett tried to adjust the fire of the number one and three guns, but he couldn't bloody see. Walker pierced the spume raised by Amagi's main guns, but the splashes from the secondaries and the cruisers behind were uninterrupted. He thought of all those times he'd shot turtles in the stick tank behind his grandmother's house--now he knew how they must have felt. There was a loud bang behind him and he twisted to see chaos on the amidships deckhouse.
A roar overhead made him turn to see a dive bomber pull up and blow by, its wingtip a dozen yards from the mast. An enormous explosion convulsed the sea to port and bomb fragments whined off the rail and rangefinder. Tracers rose to meet the plane and something fell off it. Another mighty salvo rumbled in, the splashes seeming to concentrate on Mahan. He half expected to see a twisted wreck as the spray fell away, but somehow she staggered out of the trough and shook herself off. Water sluiced from her. Her aft deckhouse was wrecked, and her number four funnel lay on a crushed lifeboat davit. The searchlight tower had fallen as well.
Something went crump forward, and a 5.5-inch plowed a furrow in the starboard bow and ricocheted into the sea. The big anchor chain that normally disappeared in the well trailed over the side from the bollard. Another salvo boomed overhead, less than three miles off. Damn we're close! he thought as the shells almost sucked the air from his lungs as the passed--just barely--overhead to thrash the sea astern. He peered through his binoculars during a momentary respite.
"There they are! Right there!" he shouted into the speaking tube. "I mean, surface target! Bow! Estimate range five-five-double-ohh!" The salvo buzzer sounded once more shrill than usual before the pathetic report of their own guns. Greg held on tight as Walker turned sharply to starboard. Amagi seemed almost motionless, the destroyer tucked under her skirt like a timid child. Beyond them, much closer now, the squall beckoned. Dark and alive with a torrential green rain.

Connie looked up at Adrian and slowly nodded as he left. Isaac was helping to quickly lug 4"/50 shells from the magazine to the ready-use locker for the number one gun on the bow, and when he saw Adrian he yelled "Hey, care to give me a hand with this?"

 

[Dakota K5]

Five miles away, Amagi opened fire. She pulsed with flame from one end to the other as she salvoed her big guns. Seconds later, the rattling roar of sixteen-inch shells thundered toward them. They sounded a lot deeper than the eights, Dirk reflected absently. Then he stepped into hell.
The first salvo fell short, but it threw up a wall of spray that drenched Greg Garrett and his team and probably soaked Lieutenant Rogers all the way up in the crow's nest. Rogers had fallen silent, and Garrett tried to adjust the fire of the number one and three guns, but he couldn't bloody see. Walker pierced the spume raised by Amagi's main guns, but the splashes from the secondaries and the cruisers behind were uninterrupted. He thought of all those times he'd shot turtles in the stick tank behind his grandmother's house--now he knew how they must have felt. There was a loud bang behind him and he twisted to see chaos on the amidships deckhouse.
A roar overhead made him turn to see a dive bomber pull up and blow by, its wingtip a dozen yards from the mast. An enormous explosion convulsed the sea to port and bomb fragments whined off the rail and rangefinder. Tracers rose to meet the plane and something fell off it. Another mighty salvo rumbled in, the splashes seeming to concentrate on Mahan. He half expected to see a twisted wreck as the spray fell away, but somehow she staggered out of the trough and shook herself off. Water sluiced from her. Her aft deckhouse was wrecked, and her number four funnel lay on a crushed lifeboat davit. The searchlight tower had fallen as well.
Something went crump forward, and a 5.5-inch plowed a furrow in the starboard bow and ricocheted into the sea. The big anchor chain that normally disappeared in the well trailed over the side from the bollard. Another salvo boomed overhead, less than three miles off. Damn we're close! he thought as the shells almost sucked the air from his lungs as the passed--just barely--overhead to thrash the sea astern. He peered through his binoculars during a momentary respite.
"There they are! Right there!" he shouted into the speaking tube. "I mean, surface target! Bow! Estimate range five-five-double-ohh!" The salvo buzzer sounded once more shrill than usual before the pathetic report of their own guns. Greg held on tight as Walker turned sharply to starboard. Amagi seemed almost motionless, the destroyer tucked under her skirt like a timid child. Beyond them, much closer now, the squall beckoned. Dark and alive with a torrential green rain.

Connie looked up at Adrian and slowly nodded as he left. Isaac was helping to quickly lug 4"/50 shells from the magazine to the ready-use locker for the number one gun on the bow, and when he saw Adrian he yelled "Hey, care to give me a hand with this?"

Adrian ran to the man and started to help him transport the shell to the number one gun. "Name's Adrian." He said as he held out a hand to the man after they had transported the shell. He felt the ship rock from shell hits just off the ship, it was much like when shells hit near him in a fox hole when the earth moved and shook as if it had turned to liquid.

 

[Trainbrain16]

Adrian ran to the man and started to help him transport the shell to the number one gun. "Name's Adrian." He said as he held out a hand to the man after they had transported the shell. He felt the ship rock from shell hits just off the ship, it was much like when shells hit near him in a fox hole when the earth moved and shook as if it had turned to liquid.

Another salvo slashed out from Amagi just as six torpedoes chuffed from their tubes and lanced in her direction. Black smoke poured from the stacks again and Garrett felt a sense of anxious elation now that their torpedoes were on the way. With any luck... A thunderous crash and a firey cloud of black soot and steam swept him to the deck, interrupting his thoughts.
Walker heaved when a sixteen-inch shell on a virtually flat trajectory punched through the forward fireroom. It didn't explode, thank God, but the sudden decompression of the compartment caused the burners to firewall. The flames didn't kill the men in the room, but the steam from ruptured lines did. The destroyer's speed dropped and Dirk turned to his Chief Boatswain's Mate Michael Fiske, but he'd already left. His gaze returned to the shattered pilothouse windows, sweeping past the speaking tube that led to the crow's nest. Blood was dripping from it to join a widening pool. Electrician's mate Janssen's blood was there too, as well as Rodriguez's. Rodriguez had already been carried to the wardroom that had become the ship's 'hospital'. Janssen was dead.
"Sir, forward fireroom's out of action! Mr. McFarlane bypassed with the main deck valve. His says our speed should be restored--almost--momentarily."
"Very well."
Mahan emerged from the smoke and spray astern cutting a wide, looping turn to port. Back toward Amagi. Dirk stifled his instinctive command to signal her when he saw the reason why. The gun on her foredeck stood vacant and exposed, the splinter shield shot completely away. Behind it, the entire bridge superstructure was askew, torn and shattered and gushing smoke. After a single horrified glance, he doubted a soul had survived inside it. Her port torpedo tubes were rigged out, so at least maybe she got off her salvo, but otherwise she was a wreck.
More men lost. His men now. Since Captain Blinn was lost to them on Pope, he was senior. He'd ordered the torpedo attack--and it made no difference that there wasn't any choice. Those men now steaming blind and helpless at flank speed directly toward the enemy were under his orders. But what of these men? Chances were, with Mahan headed straight for her, Amagi would concentrate on the helpless destroyer. The fire aimed at Walker had already slacked. She could almost certainly slip into the squall. He rubbed his forehead vigorously and looked to the wide-eyed, expectant faces of the men around him. They wanted him to do it: to give the order to turn back. They were willing it. Didn't they understand it was death? They had a chance to live--all they had to do was abandon Mahan to Amagi's fury.
No, they couldn't live like that and neither could he. They'd run far enough. It didn't matter anymore where they were. The fight was here and they would face it. Shades of grey no longer existed. Everything was stark black and white once more. Was that what it all boiled down to? Had the entire Asiatic Fleet been sacrificed just because it was there? The salvo buzzer rang and numbers one, three, and four let loose. Finally his gaze fell upon that young sailor, Fred Reynolds. The boy was the youngest and most junior crewman on the bridge. The look he returned was... pleading.
"Come about! Bring us as close alongside Mahan as she'll bear." He gestured at the bombers above. Three of them flew lazy circles, watching, as if afraid to descend into the line of fire. "Maybe we can at least keep them off her."
"Skipper, the Jap cruisers behind us are out of the squall. They can see us now."
"Good. Let 'em watch," Dirk snarled. Some of the men giggled nervously. "How much longer for the torpedoes?"
"Ten seconds."

Isaac gave Adrian's hand a brief but firm shake when he extended it, already starting to run back to grab another shell. "Isaac. Come on, we can probably get a shell each if your hand and back aren't feeling too..." He was cut off mid-sentence and fell to the deck when the big shell from Amagi punched through the forward fireroom. The ship shook like a spoon someone had jammed in a kitchen sink's garbage disposal unit, and Isaac quickly managed to regain his footing, and blurted "OHH FUCK!! WHAT WAS THAT!?!"

 

[Dakota K5]

Another salvo slashed out from Amagi just as six torpedoes chuffed from their tubes and lanced in her direction. Black smoke poured from the stacks again and Garrett felt a sense of anxious elation now that their torpedoes were on the way. With any luck... A thunderous crash and a firey cloud of black soot and steam swept him to the deck, interrupting his thoughts.
Walker heaved when a sixteen-inch shell on a virtually flat trajectory punched through the forward fireroom. It didn't explode, thank God, but the sudden decompression of the compartment caused the burners to firewall. The flames didn't kill the men in the room, but the steam from ruptured lines did. The destroyer's speed dropped and Dirk turned to his Chief Boatswain's Mate Michael Fiske, but he'd already left. His gaze returned to the shattered pilothouse windows, sweeping past the speaking tube that led to the crow's nest. Blood was dripping from it to join a widening pool. Electrician's mate Janssen's blood was there too, as well as Rodriguez's. Rodriguez had already been carried to the wardroom that had become the ship's 'hospital'. Janssen was dead.
"Sir, forward fireroom's out of action! Mr. McFarlane bypassed with the main deck valve. His says our speed should be restored--almost--momentarily."
"Very well."
Mahan emerged from the smoke and spray astern cutting a wide, looping turn to port. Back toward Amagi. Dirk stifled his instinctive command to signal her when he saw the reason why. The gun on her foredeck stood vacant and exposed, the splinter shield shot completely away. Behind it, the entire bridge superstructure was askew, torn and shattered and gushing smoke. After a single horrified glance, he doubted a soul had survived inside it. Her port torpedo tubes were rigged out, so at least maybe she got off her salvo, but otherwise she was a wreck.
More men lost. His men now. Since Captain Blinn was lost to them on Pope, he was senior. He'd ordered the torpedo attack--and it made no difference that there wasn't any choice. Those men now steaming blind and helpless at flank speed directly toward the enemy were under his orders. But what of these men? Chances were, with Mahan headed straight for her, Amagi would concentrate on the helpless destroyer. The fire aimed at Walker had already slacked. She could almost certainly slip into the squall. He rubbed his forehead vigorously and looked to the wide-eyed, expectant faces of the men around him. They wanted him to do it: to give the order to turn back. They were willing it. Didn't they understand it was death? They had a chance to live--all they had to do was abandon Mahan to Amagi's fury.
No, they couldn't live like that and neither could he. They'd run far enough. It didn't matter anymore where they were. The fight was here and they would face it. Shades of grey no longer existed. Everything was stark black and white once more. Was that what it all boiled down to? Had the entire Asiatic Fleet been sacrificed just because it was there? The salvo buzzer rang and numbers one, three, and four let loose. Finally his gaze fell upon that young sailor, Fred Reynolds. The boy was the youngest and most junior crewman on the bridge. The look he returned was... pleading.
"Come about! Bring us as close alongside Mahan as she'll bear." He gestured at the bombers above. Three of them flew lazy circles, watching, as if afraid to descend into the line of fire. "Maybe we can at least keep them off her."
"Skipper, the Jap cruisers behind us are out of the squall. They can see us now."
"Good. Let 'em watch," Dirk snarled. Some of the men giggled nervously. "How much longer for the torpedoes?"
"Ten seconds."

Isaac gave Adrian's hand a brief but firm shake when he extended it, already starting to run back to grab another shell. "Isaac. Come on, we can probably get a shell each if your hand and back aren't feeling too..." He was cut off mid-sentence and fell to the deck when the big shell from Amagi punched through the forward fireroom. The ship shook like a spoon someone had jammed in a kitchen sink's garbage disposal unit, and Isaac quickly managed to regain his footing, and blurted "OHH FUCK!! WHAT WAS THAT!?!"

"Jap shell, but we have no time to think about it we need to get our own shells sent back." Adrian said as he ran with Isaac to get another two shells. "I need to meet the captain of this ship and ask if he has any Marines in his family, because this bastard is stubborn and I like it." He said as they ran.

 

[Trainbrain16]

"Jap shell, but we have no time to think about it we need to get our own shells sent back." Adrian said as he ran with Isaac to get another two shells. "I need to meet the captain of this ship and ask if he has any Marines in his family, because this bastard is stubborn and I like it." He said as they ran.

Walker finished her turn and sprinted after Mahan. The sea frothed around her with the strikes of enemy shells. She staggered from another hard impact forward.
"Time?"
"Three... two... one..." The torpedo chief looked up from his watch with a wretched expression. Fuck! More duds, or whatever it was that had been wrong with the torpedoes since the war began. They were nearly even with Mahan now, whose speed was dropping off, and big, old clunky Black Hawk still soldiered on beside them, seemingly untouched and ignored by the Jap ships and planes even as she hammered away at both.
"See if--" Dirk was interrupted by a bright snap of light, and he looked up just in time to hear the detonation of the single massive explosion that completely disemboweled the Jap tin can. The ship hung, jackknifed, her bow in the air and her stern already slipping. The flames were bright against the dark squall beyond. Wild cheering erupted and Dirk cheered too--but they'd missed Amagi. She was turning toward them in case there were more torpedoes in the water,, and therefore, for a moment, she couldn't fire. Shells fell in earnest from the cruisers behind, but Amagi suddenly blurred. The squall was moving over her. Toward them. They were just a mile away.
"Skipper! Get a load of this!" shouted Flowers. He was looking to his left, at Mahan. A column of spray collapsed on her deck and a man struggled through the cascade. He pointed at them with his right hand and held that arm up. Then he patted his chest with the left and brought it from below, across the bottom of his elbow and up alongside the other. Then he vanished in more spray.
"What the hell?" Garrett muttered.
Mahan dropped back and they saw men on her wreckage-strewn deck heaving on the exposed steering cables. She sheared to the right and narrowly avoided colliding with Walker's stern. With a burst of speed, she lanced forward along the starboard side. The same man as before stood between the two torpedo mounts, still rigged out. He pointed at them exaggeratedly.
"My God, they're still loaded!!" Garrett shouted. Dirk ran onto the bridgewing and held up his own right arm. Then he took both arms and brought them up, diverging on either side of where his arm had first been. The man on Mahan's deck held up an "OK" sign and scurried away.
"Left twenty degrees!" Dirk shouted. "We're going to run up both sides of her! We may not have any torpedoes, but the Japs don't know that!"
Amagi had crept out of the squall, but just barely. It was almost as if the storm followed her. Now she was pointed directly at them and water peeled from her bow as she surged ahead. They were so close and the angle was such that only a couple of her secondaries would bear. They're still plenty big, thought Dirk. And as soon as we come alongside the entire secondary broadside will come into play. It would happen in less than two minutes.
Mahan moved farther and farther to starboard, as did Black Hawk. With the loss of her forward fireroom, Walker could barely make twenty-five knots. Mahan looked like a wreck, but she was keeping up. The roaring bombers swooped to attack in spite of incoming shells. Machine guns clattered above and behind. The salvo buzzer rang. Antiaircraft rounds raked Walker's bridge as the two four-stackers streamed right past Amagi's bow, their huge battle flags flapping defiantly in the breeze. Lieutenant Flowers spun away from the wheel and collapsed to the deck, and Dirk immediately took his place himself. The maelstrom of fire and the kaleidoscope of images were beyond anything they'd experienced yet. Amagi's side was alive with flashing muzzles, and Walker drummed with impacts as numerous as the raindrops of the previous squall.
Simultaneously, Walker heaved with the close impact of a pair of bombs, and the plane that had dropped them slanted unnaturally toward Amagi, tailing smoke. It impacted with a monstrous fireball directly atop her amidships turret. Two more explosions rocked Amagi from the opposite side and she heeled sharply towards Walker with the force of the blows. The salvo buzzer rang. WHAM!
Another bomb detonated and shells from the other cruisers still fell. Some even struck Amagl. Amid the tempest of fire, smoke, overpressure, and death, the three American ships were at long last consumed by the squall.

"Agreed," Isaac said as he and Adrian ferried their shells forward, ending up getting drenched by the plumes of water from the Japanese shell impacts. Isaac fell to the deck twice more when Walker was hit hard, one of the impacts seeming to be very close to them. Eventually, though, the sounds of the combat faded away rather suddenly, but the familiar sounds of a rain squall's torrential downpour didn't replace those sounds. Isaac hardly noticed that, though, over the distinct lack of the sounds of shells and bombs impacting the water and the ship. "Is that it? Did we make it?"

 

[Dakota K5]

Walker finished her turn and sprinted after Mahan. The sea frothed around her with the strikes of enemy shells. She staggered from another hard impact forward.
"Time?"
"Three... two... one..." The torpedo chief looked up from his watch with a wretched expression. Fuck! More duds, or whatever it was that had been wrong with the torpedoes since the war began. They were nearly even with Mahan now, whose speed was dropping off, and big, old clunky Black Hawk still soldiered on beside them, seemingly untouched and ignored by the Jap ships and planes even as she hammered away at both.
"See if--" Dirk was interrupted by a bright snap of light, and he looked up just in time to hear the detonation of the single massive explosion that completely disemboweled the Jap tin can. The ship hung, jackknifed, her bow in the air and her stern already slipping. The flames were bright against the dark squall beyond. Wild cheering erupted and Dirk cheered too--but they'd missed Amagi. She was turning toward them in case there were more torpedoes in the water,, and therefore, for a moment, she couldn't fire. Shells fell in earnest from the cruisers behind, but Amagi suddenly blurred. The squall was moving over her. Toward them. They were just a mile away.
"Skipper! Get a load of this!" shouted Flowers. He was looking to his left, at Mahan. A column of spray collapsed on her deck and a man struggled through the cascade. He pointed at them with his right hand and held that arm up. Then he patted his chest with the left and brought it from below, across the bottom of his elbow and up alongside the other. Then he vanished in more spray.
"What the hell?" Garrett muttered.
Mahan dropped back and they saw men on her wreckage-strewn deck heaving on the exposed steering cables. She sheared to the right and narrowly avoided colliding with Walker's stern. With a burst of speed, she lanced forward along the starboard side. The same man as before stood between the two torpedo mounts, still rigged out. He pointed at them exaggeratedly.
"My God, they're still loaded!!" Garrett shouted. Dirk ran onto the bridgewing and held up his own right arm. Then he took both arms and brought them up, diverging on either side of where his arm had first been. The man on Mahan's deck held up an "OK" sign and scurried away.
"Left twenty degrees!" Dirk shouted. "We're going to run up both sides of her! We may not have any torpedoes, but the Japs don't know that!"
Amagi had crept out of the squall, but just barely. It was almost as if the storm followed her. Now she was pointed directly at them and water peeled from her bow as she surged ahead. They were so close and the angle was such that only a couple of her secondaries would bear. They're still plenty big, thought Dirk. And as soon as we come alongside the entire secondary broadside will come into play. It would happen in less than two minutes.
Mahan moved farther and farther to starboard, as did Black Hawk. With the loss of her forward fireroom, Walker could barely make twenty-five knots. Mahan looked like a wreck, but she was keeping up. The roaring bombers swooped to attack in spite of incoming shells. Machine guns clattered above and behind. The salvo buzzer rang. Antiaircraft rounds raked Walker's bridge as the two four-stackers streamed right past Amagi's bow, their huge battle flags flapping defiantly in the breeze. Lieutenant Flowers spun away from the wheel and collapsed to the deck, and Dirk immediately took his place himself. The maelstrom of fire and the kaleidoscope of images were beyond anything they'd experienced yet. Amagi's side was alive with flashing muzzles, and Walker drummed with impacts as numerous as the raindrops of the previous squall.
Simultaneously, Walker heaved with the close impact of a pair of bombs, and the plane that had dropped them slanted unnaturally toward Amagi, tailing smoke. It impacted with a monstrous fireball directly atop her amidships turret. Two more explosions rocked Amagi from the opposite side and she heeled sharply towards Walker with the force of the blows. The salvo buzzer rang. WHAM!
Another bomb detonated and shells from the other cruisers still fell. Some even struck Amagl. Amid the tempest of fire, smoke, overpressure, and death, the three American ships were at long last consumed by the squall.

"Agreed," Isaac said as he and Adrian ferried their shells forward, ending up getting drenched by the plumes of water from the Japanese shell impacts. Isaac fell to the deck twice more when Walker was hit hard, one of the impacts seeming to be very close to them. Eventually, though, the sounds of the combat faded away rather suddenly, but the familiar sounds of a rain squall's torrential downpour didn't replace those sounds. Isaac hardly noticed that, though, over the distinct lack of the sounds of shells and bombs impacting the water and the ship. "Is that it? Did we make it?"

"Sight lines are probably obscured, they can't see us and we can't see 'em again though the suddenness of the silence may speak otherwise either way we are alive for now. Let's get these shells to the gun just in case and see what else we can do." Adrian walked along with Isaac keeping his true thoughts to himself, Adrian felt that they may have just traded one hell for another but what this new hell held was a mystery to him.