Rising Sun (21 page)

Even better, he, Masao Ikeda, was a virgin no more. Three confirmed kills and a possible fourth would tell all his comrades that he was a Japanese warrior.

* * *

Amanda cowered in the doorway of an office building while sirens continued to wail. There were many large plate-glass windows and she could visualize explosions sending knifelike splinters into the many hundreds of people running around screaming in panic. She saw a little girl knocked down and trampled. Amanda ran out and got the screaming child. Luckily she was only scared and bruised. A moment later, her sobbing mother took her and ran off. There were no bomb shelters. Of course not, she thought. San Francisco would never be a target despite all the hysteria regarding the possibility of a Japanese invasion. Damn politicians were wrong again, she thought angrily.

Explosions rocked the area. Bombs seemed to be dropping indiscriminately, which caused even more panic. Which way to run when you didn’t know what was the target? There was no safety. She saw a handful of Japanese planes fly overhead, heading west. They were low enough to see the empty bomb racks. There was a pause but no all-clear signal. After a few minutes, a large number of Japanese fighters headed west and they were followed by an even larger horde of American planes.

“Shoot the bastards down,” Grace yelled, and others joined in. How dare they bomb a helpless American city! How dare they attack civilians?

With bombs no longer falling, the panic slowed and ceased. Previously terrified people took a deep breath and regained control. Amanda realized that there appeared to have been very little real damage. She could smell smoke in the distance, but there were no massive conflagrations, and the San Francisco fire department seemed to have the situation under control.

Amanda dusted herself off. She was thankful that she’d not worn any stockings as her leg was bruised and she’d likely have torn them. Even cotton stockings were rare and nylons almost impossible to find. She shook her head at the inanity of worrying about stockings during an air raid. The sirens decided it was time to sound the all clear.

“Well, should we find a hospital and volunteer?” asked Sandy.

They did, and found that their services weren’t needed, that everything was under control. Only a small number had been killed or injured, and most of the injuries had occurred as a result of panic, not the bombing directly. A few dozen people had broken bones and bruises from being shoved and trampled, although few of the injuries seemed serious. A nurse in the emergency room was of the opinion that the bombing raid had been a bust.

“Police radio said a lot of Jap planes had been shot down. What a shame, huh?” the ER nurse said with a grin.

“What do we do now?” Grace wondered.

Amanda smiled. “We do what we planned. We cross the bay to our car and start driving south. On to San Diego!” she laughed, and thought, on to Tim Dane. Ready or not, here we come.

* * *

Masao Ikeda landed on the
Akagi
with empty guns and only fumes in his tanks. The engine actually sputtered as he pulled up on the flight deck. He dismounted from the cockpit to the cheers of his fellow pilots. As he walked by they congratulated him on his kills and that he was no longer a cherry. He laughed and took a moment to swallow a few mouthfuls of rice and half a gallon of water while mechanics refueled the plane and replaced ammunition. There was no time to waste. The American planes that had pursued him and his companions were overhead and fighting with the planes left behind to protect the precious carriers.

A moment later and Masao was airborne again and dodging among the American planes. He was astonished at the number and variety of Yank fighters. Models included the pitiful P40 and the very rugged P47, along with a couple of types he didn’t recognize. One, with twin tails, looked very interesting and also very lethal.

The Americans were not interested in dueling with Zeros. Their goal was the carriers, just as it had been the Japanese Navy’s goal back at Midway. They sent enough planes to skirmish with the Japanese cover force and keep them at bay, while torpedo planes and dive bombers attacked the four carriers that made up the Northern Force. The
Akagi, Ryuju, Shinyu
, and
Soryu
were arrayed in a square and their antiaircraft guns were killing Americans as they approached.

Even though Masao hoped and prayed for the best, it was inevitable that some American planes would get through. He watched in horror as a dive bomber dropped its load on the flight deck of his own
Akagi
, blowing a hole in it and clearly destroying the elevator. Fires erupted but were quickly brought under control. However, no planes would be landing on the
Akagi
for quite some time.

Another American plane strafed the
Ryuju
, starting fires in the bow area as poorly stored fuel ignited. Someone would be severely punished for neglect, he thought. Unless, of course, that the poor person had been immolated, and that would be poetic justice.

In the meantime, Masao had shot down two more planes, including one of the twin-tailed ones. He wondered just how much longer the Americans could linger over the Japanese fleet before they ran out of gas. The carriers were already more than a hundred and fifty miles offshore, and heading westward at top speed.

His question was answered when he suddenly realized that there were no more American planes in the air, instead they were dots fading in the distance.

He’d had a marvelous day and so, he thought, had Japan. They’d avenged the ambush of Admiral Hosogaya’s force in Cook Inlet and bombed the city of San Francisco. But at what price, he found himself wondering as the exhilaration of battle faded and cold reality set in. Had they really won a victory? Two carriers were burning and would be out of the war for months, if not longer. They had not succeeded in bombing the base at Mare Island, and he was certain that the few bombs the Kates had dropped on San Francisco had been too few and too small to be significant.

He was ordered to land on the
Soryu
. She and the
Shinyu
were undamaged. Masao wondered just where they would find room on two carriers to park the planes from four carriers when he realized to his dismay that there would be plenty of room. Victory? Where were the Japanese eagles? Where were his comrades? What kind of price had Japan just paid?

An angry and frustrated Admiral Yamamoto held court in his quarters on the massive
Yamato
. Was ultimate victory slipping away? Again he clutched his mangled hand. It was reminding him of his mortality.

The two men with him were his senior admirals, Takeo Kurita and Chuichi Nagumo. Kurita’s northern force now consisted of only two carriers and escorts, while Nagumo’s southern force included five carriers. It was an imbalance that he would have to correct. He would send the carrier
Zuikaku
north in partial replacement for the two that had been damaged in the attack on San Francisco.

“I have radioed my apologies to the emperor for the disaster in Cook Inlet,” Yamamoto said. “Both he and Prime Minister Tojo were polite and consoling, but nothing can change the fact that Cook Inlet was the first defeat the Japanese Navy has suffered in modern times. Our only consolation is that the defeat is a minor one. No carriers or battleships were lost.”

“Our intelligence failed us,” Nagumo said. “No one expected two American battleships to suddenly appear so far north.”

“And without air cover,” Kurita added grimly.

It upset them that the Imperial Japanese Navy possessed overwhelming air superiority but hadn’t used it. Nor had the Americans used any of their air power, including their lone carrier, the
Saratoga
. They had sent their battleship force naked and vulnerable in an attack that was both bold and unexpected. For the Americans to not use their planes had been an act of desperation, for the Japanese to not use them was an act of stupidity. At least one carrier, even a small one, should have been sent to cover the relief force.

Yamamoto nodded. “We must accept the fact that the Americans are getting more aggressive. They have great numbers of planes protecting their major areas; therefore, we will not attack large cities again. Our planes and pilots are superior, but the Americans are good enough and can overwhelm our pilots by sheer weight of numbers. We will not directly challenge their air fleets again. There are more than enough smaller targets to satisfy our needs and make the Americans squeal. Nor will we use our carriers when we attack them. Instead, we will again use cruisers and destroyers, along with our submarines, to bombard them and bring pain to California and the northern coast.”

“Then what of the carriers?” Kurita asked. “I hope you’re not suggesting they stand idle.”

Yamamoto laughed bitterly. “While some of our carriers are looking for the
Saratoga
, the others will be in reserve and will hopefully be able to ambush overeager Americans.”

The other two admirals nodded their approval. Carriers and battleships were too valuable to waste in smaller skirmishes. Japanese battle doctrine called for the Japanese fleet to engage major enemy forces in a climactic battle that would end the war. There had been some hope that Pearl Harbor would have accomplished that, but the absence of American carriers there had dashed that hope. Later at Midway, when the American carriers had been sunk, hopes had risen that the Americans would see reason and negotiate an honorable end to the war, one that would see Japan keeping her conquests. Those hopes had ended in disappointment. The Americans were not ready to negotiate and were not going to come out and fight a great battle; therefore, the Japanese fleet must change its strategies.

Yamamoto continued. “I did not tell the emperor of our losses in the San Francisco attack. After all, we suffered no ships sunk even though the
Akagi
and
Ryuju
will be out of action for at least six months, probably longer. And we shot down nearly two hundred American planes, if our pilots can be believed.”

They all laughed. Even at this late date in the war and with almost all pilots being experienced, they were still prone to unintended exaggerations. For too many, any plane they fired on had to have been destroyed.

Yamamoto continued. “We lost seventy of our own planes and, of course, their pilots. That is roughly the equivalent of a fleet carrier’s entire flight crew. Replacement planes and pilots will be sent as soon as possible, of course, but it is doubtful that the pilots will be of the caliber of the men we lost. It does not help that our inventory of replacement planes is so small. We simply cannot produce enough planes to replace out losses.”

“Have we had any success in locating the
Saratoga
?” Kurita asked. Like so many of his contemporaries, Takeo Kurita was a battleship admiral, but he recognized the need to eliminate the one remaining American carrier. Yamamoto felt that Kurita was not totally a supporter of the war. Well, he had his own doubts as well.

Yamamoto laughed. “No, and perhaps she too is back in Shangri-La.”

The others laughed as well and then grew somber. “What about our forces in Alaska?” inquired Nagumo. “Admiral Hosogaya and the survivors of the defeat have joined with Colonel Yamasaki’s army forces and are moving toward the Alaskan city of Fairbanks.”