Rising Sun Read online

  “Or we could jump into the ocean to relieve ourselves and scare all the little fishies away,” Amanda said sweetly. “Don’t worry, we can do it. Besides, we’ve done it before.”

  “And if we guess wrong about the currents or the wind doesn’t cooperate,” Mack continued, “we could die a long and painful death in the middle of the ocean where nobody will find us.”

  “On the other hand,” Amanda rebutted grimly, “we could die of starvation here on Oahu, or be raped and murdered when the Japs come ashore, which they will surely do, sooner or later. We’ve talked it over and we’d rather take our chances on your sailboat. We’d much rather do something to save ourselves than wait for the worst to happen. We’d also rather do it sooner rather than later, while we’re still strong enough to do it.”

  Mack appeared to think for a moment, then nodded. “I want money, a thousand dollars apiece, and that’d be above and beyond anything we spend getting set up for this cruise.”

  “Why?” asked a surprised Sandy.

  Mack smiled. “Because, sweetmeat, this catamaran is my living here. Assuming we make it to California, I’m going to have to pick up the pieces of my life and actually start earning a living. California ain’t Hawaii. There they actually expect you to work instead of letting the sun bake your ass. Shit, I might even have to get a job in a factory,” he said in mock horror.

  Amanda thought quickly. She had fifteen hundred dollars in the bank. Whether they sailed or not, pulling it out before there was a run on the banks now seemed like a prudent idea. Sandy was a saver, too, but she had no idea how much Grace had. Whatever it was, they would make do.

  “A deal,” she said.

  “Fine. Now we ain’t leaving tomorrow or anything like that. I say we take a month to get ready, and that includes you nice ladies getting the money, finding supplies that won’t perish or need cooking, and spending every weekend and any other time you can with me learning more about how to sail this beautiful boat that I named after my ex-wife.”

  Amanda was surprised. She hadn’t known Mack had an ex-wife or that the catamaran had a name. “What’s the cat’s name?”

  “The Bitch.”

  CHAPTER 4

  ONLY TWO OF THE THREE SUBS THAT DEPARTED PEARL HARBOR made it to San Diego. The third was never heard from again. Whether an accident or a Japanese attack caused the sub’s death they would likely never know. Maybe someday the wreck would be discovered on the bottom of the ocean and the grieving families given some solace. Dane could only be thankful that it hadn’t been him on that sub. The old phrase, there but for the grace of God go I, now carried great meaning for him.

  The loss of more key personnel put an additional strain on Spruance’s rebuilding staff, especially with his new job. Spruance was now chief of staff to Nimitz. It also resulted in Dane being promoted to lieutenant commander sooner than expected and his being given a more senior position in Captain Merchant’s intelligence gathering group that was now reassigned directly to Nimitz.

  On arrival at San Diego, Dane swore that he’d taken two trips on a sub and that there wouldn’t be a third. After being rescued from the sinking of the Enterprise, he’d spent much of the trip in his bunk enduring the pain from his knee. Along with the claustrophobia of the second trip, there’d been another scare when, approaching San Diego, overeager American fighter pilots decided that any sub was a Jap and strafed them. There were now several holes in Torelli’s sub and he was thoroughly pissed off.

  The staff officers were given fresh uniforms and assigned quarters in overcrowded facilities, and told to be in Admiral Nimitz’s conference room by eight the next morning. Admiral Ernest J. King was on the base and he was going to get an overview of what was happening in the Pacific Theater, and Spruance, who had arrived safely a day earlier in the other surviving sub, wanted all of them to hear it.

  The conference room was more of an auditorium and at least fifty people were present. Dane, as a newly ordained lieutenant commander, was one of the lowest-ranking officers present. As he took a seat alongside Merchant, Dane had the nagging feeling he still smelled of diesel and shit. He’d showered several times, but he still felt unclean. Torelli, also present for the briefing and unawed by the presence of all the brass, teased him mercilessly.

  Admiral William Halsey—nobody who wanted to live ever called him “Bull” to his face—ran the meeting. He’d been hospitalized with a skin infection, shingles, when the Battle of Midway took place, and he still looked awful. Painful-looking blotches and scabs covered his arms and extended under his clothing, and Dane wondered how he could refrain from scratching himself to shreds.

  Halsey looked for a moment at Admirals Spruance and King, who was just in from Washington. King had been appointed Chief of Naval Operations in the spring, replacing his good friend, Admiral Harold Stark, who was one of those blamed for the disaster at Pearl Harbor. King was reputed to be a lecher, a heavy drinker, and a hater of all things English. However, and despite all the rumors regarding his personal issues, he was considered a tough and highly qualified leader and, despite reservations, now supported the Europe-first strategy as the best way to win the war and ultimately get back at the Japanese.

  Still, he wanted as much pressure as possible brought to bear on the Japanese as long as there were no major actions against Germany either occurring or planned for the near future. It was rumored that he was going to get his way but not for the reasons he’d anticipated. King’s normally sour expression looked even more depressed. Stark had been blamed for Pearl Harbor, but it was King who was currently in charge. He bore the responsibility for Midway and the current dismal situation in the Pacific where the Japanese fleet could strike anywhere, anytime.

  Halsey began. “First let me say that those of you who piss and moan that we have no major warships in the Pacific, and that means Hawaii, California, and the rest of the West Coast, are largely correct. The cupboard is pretty Goddamned bare, especially when it comes to carriers.”

  There were muted gasps and the sounds of chairs and feet shuffling. Halsey wasn’t going to be handing out dollops of happy bullshit this fine morning.

  “The Japs have bombed and shelled what was left of our installations in Hawaii,” he continued, “and the islands are now of little military use. The Japanese can take them anytime they wish. However, they might just decide they aren’t worth the cost since we reinforced them after the attack on Pearl.”

  Halsey grimaced and continued. “We are not totally toothless. We still have one fleet carrier in the Pacific, the Saratoga, and for the time being she’s anchored here in San Diego. The Japs, unfortunately, have maybe a dozen carriers with several more under construction. Since the Japs aren’t telling us much, that’s only a guess; but it does mean the Sara isn’t going out alone. We do have two fleet carriers in the Atlantic along with a couple of smaller ones, but they aren’t moving out here either. FDR says they are needed in that ocean to fight Nazi U-boats and, besides, the odds against us would only be slightly reduced. Any confrontation between our carriers and the Japanese fleet at this time would be suicide. We do have a number of fleet carriers under construction and they will start coming on line next year, which won’t do us a whole lot of good today.”

  Halsey paused to let harsh reality sink in. “We are outnumbered in battleships as well, although not as badly. Admiral Pye has six battleships available, seven if the Pennsylvania’s repairs are completed soon. However, they are older ships, and the Japs have ten that we know of with at least two under construction, and those are reported to be real monsters. The West Virginia and Nevada are still being repaired and cannot be counted on for the near future.

  “However, we will soon have some new battlewagons of our own. The North Carolina will arrive shortly, and Admiral King says the Washington will be shifted here from the Atlantic Fleet. No matter how many battleships we have, they aren’t going anywhere without carrier planes to fly cover for them.”

  There were murmurs of agreeme
nt with that statement. Only a few months earlier such an assertion would have been heresy. But England had lost the battleship Prince of Wales and the battlecruiser Repulse to Japanese planes the previous October when they’d steamed into the Pacific Ocean without air cover. Whereas the battleship had been queen of the seas at the beginning of the war, that title was quickly passing to the aircraft carrier.

  “In effect,” Halsey continued. “We can do nothing major. We will be postponing any offensive actions, including planned moves into the Solomon Islands. That means the Japs will be free to build an airfield on Guadalcanal that can threaten Australia, which is too bad for the Aussies. It also means that the army will be pulling back on building defenses in Alaska since the navy can’t protect them, and any planes up there will be flown back here because we cannot supply or support them.”

  Dane looked around. Shock was evident on many people’s faces. Not only were American forces in Australia now threatened, but so too were the people of Alaska. The Japanese had landed army detachments on the Aleutian Islands of Attu and Kiska and could possibly attack the mainland.

  Halsey took a swallow of water and continued glaring. “So what will the Japs do? First, they will either invade and conquer Hawaii or leave her to starve. My money is on the latter. We also feel that they will likely strike at Alaska. It’s just too damned vulnerable. Finally, they will not invade California.”

  Dane looked around and saw his own puzzlement reflected on other faces. How the hell could Halsey be so certain?

  “All the same, the Japs will not leave us alone,” he continued. “We believe there will be bombing raids from their carriers and shelling from their battleships, and this will cause panic in California and elsewhere. Our army is moving a number of divisions to key spots along the West Coast to defend the cities and keep the politicians at bay.”

  That brought laughter. California’s governor, Culbert Olson, had been strident in his pleas for military help. He’d called for the internment of Japanese civilians and wanted an endless wall of soldiers along the coast. The governors of Oregon and Washington weren’t much better. All politicos were being inundated by calls from people in coastal towns for a ship of their own or a regiment for their personal use to protect them from the rampaging Japs, who hadn’t arrived yet.

  King interrupted. “Unfortunately, people like Governor Olson have a point. The Japs control the seas, so they can land with overwhelming force at any point they choose. If I ran their navy, that’s exactly what I’d do, and I’d stay to loot and pillage until we put enough pressure on them to leave. Fortunately for us, we do have a number of cruisers and destroyers remaining and they, along with Pye’s old battleship force, will run combat patrols along the coast. Our subs, of course, will be out scouting and patrolling.”

  Merchant nudged Dane and whispered, “He’s saying the Japs will pull out from a raid if pressured. How does that square with your theory about Japanese fanaticism?”

  “Withdrawing is not the same as surrendering,” Dane answered, and realized King was glaring at him.

  “Do you have anything to add, Commander?” the CNO asked.

  Dane swallowed. It was like being a kid in school who’d been caught talking in class. “Sir, I was wondering what the current status of the Panama Canal is and when we’re going to get reinforcements through it?”

  Halsey took back the floor. “Good question, Commander. As you’re all aware, a Japanese commando force landed and destroyed the locks on the Pacific side. This caused much of Lake Gatun, which is needed to float ships, to flow down to the ocean. As the lake receded, it left a number of ships in transit literally stuck in the mud or damaged by the sudden flood of water downstream. Work’s already begun on repairs, but God only knows how long it’ll take. At least we’ve stopped the flow of water from Gatun by pushing dirt into the cut and making a rude dam. The rough estimate is at least several months and maybe up to a year before the canal will be back in operation.”

  This brought more gasps. Any naval reinforcements would now have to go either around Africa and across the now-hostile Pacific, or around South America and up to California. In either case, the time for the trip had more than doubled and been made significantly more dangerous.

  “The attack was made by a company-strength contingent of Japanese Marines,” Halsey added. “They succeeded, but all were killed after inflicting heavy casualties on our troops. Their commanding officer took out two of our men with a grenade while he was dying.” Dane looked at Merchant and the captain nodded. They would request a copy of the report from Panama.

  “Furthermore, they came in a tramp freighter which the Coast Guard only belatedly identified. The freighter tried to run away, but was shot up by a Coast Guard cutter and one of our old gunboats that was in the canal area. The enemy ship then rammed the cutter. The gunboat continued to pound the freighter and, when they thought she was dead, sent over a boarding party. At that instant, the ship exploded, killing everyone on the cutter and most of the people on the gunboat. Needless to say, everyone on the freighter was killed. We don’t know if the explosion was accidental or not.”

  “Let me give you some reassurance, gentlemen,” Admiral King said. “The situation Admiral Halsey has described is totally accurate, but you are not going to be hung out to dry. We know you need carriers and more carriers. I’ve spoken with Secretary Knox and he assures me that warship production will be shifted from cruisers and destroyers to carriers. Thus, we will be able to accelerate the completion of the Essex by at least several months, even if her shakedown cruise is truncated and she sails with a couple of hundred civilian workers still finishing her. She will be done early and she will be sent to the Pacific. So too will other carriers, such as the smaller Independence, when she is completed.”

  After a few more questions, the meeting broke up. Merchant grabbed Dane’s arm. “How’s that report on Jap fanaticism coming?”

  “Haven’t started, sir.”

  “Start.”

  * * *

  Steve Farris had reluctantly come to the conclusion that Captain Lytle might be more of a danger to the American army than the Japs were. His platoon had been issued helmets and rifles and now at least looked like soldiers. The helmets were the new bowl type and not the World War I pie tins. The new models were said to provide more protection for the occupant’s skull. Farris was in no hurry to check out the hypothesis.

  The rifles, however, were the venerable but still lethal 1903 model Springfields, and not the new Garands that were just beginning to be produced. The Springfield was a .30 caliber bolt-action weapon that took a five-shot clip. It might be old, but in the right hands, the Springfield was a deadly weapon. The next day, Lytle took them to the rifle range where the company largely succeeded in hitting the ground, much to the amusement of their Marine instructors. Farris, who considered himself a good to excellent shot, had lost any edge he might have had and was as bad as anybody.

  To Steve’s astonishment, Lytle had appeared satisfied and announced that the next day they would head ten miles north and build a post near the small village of Bridger. Bridger was located a mile inland and had a population of two hundred, some of whom farmed and others fished.

  Along with being satisfied with the company’s miserable shooting, Lytle was preoccupied with building what Farris considered a resort for himself and his men after they arrived at their destination. Patrolling and recon work were not on his agenda. Instead, a comfortable tent village was constructed with the largest and most luxurious tent going to the captain.

  Farris and Lytle soon had a number of arguments regarding this and other matters, but to no avail. Steve once again worked up the nerve to protest and did so in Lytle’s tent when the two of them were alone.

  “Sir, when are we going to start doing our job of scouting?”

  Lytle laughed mirthlessly. “For what? Do you really think there are Japs coming? Hell, there are thousands of miles of coastline. The odds of the Japs landing here ar
e astronomically small.”

  Farris had to admit his lush of a commanding officer had a point. But they had their orders and there was such a thing as doing their duty. “I think we should be doing at least a little recon work instead of painting the rocks white.”

  “I think it makes the base look good,” Lytle replied, not catching the sarcasm. Several paths were outlined by brightly painted rocks. Lytle’s breath reeked of booze. Away from San Diego and the sobering presence of more senior officers, he’d again been drinking heavily.

  “Regardless, I think it’s a waste and I also believe we should have built elsewhere.”

  “Nonsense, we have a great view of the ocean.”

  “And that’s the point, Captain. We can see for miles, which means we would stick out like a sore thumb to lookouts on any enemy ship. We should have built behind the hill where we can’t be seen and have lookouts watching the ocean. I agree with you that it’s a long shot that any Jap will show up, but any enemy ship that might happen by would know right away that this is a military post and shell it from a distance, and we’d be unable to do a damn thing about it.”

  He declined to say anything about white rocks serving as aiming points. Lytle sat down in a camp chair and leaned back, clearly off balance. For a moment it looked as if he would fall over and Steve relished the thought.

  “Farris, just because you had a year of college, it doesn’t mean you’re smarter than I am. I am the captain and in command of this company, and you are a lieutenant and you are rapidly becoming a pain in the ass. If I could, I would send you back and get someone more reasonable, but I can’t.”