Iron Gray Sea: Destroyermen (42 page)

ArataAmagi
rattled and shuddered like a tin roof under an impossibly dense onslaught of giant hailstones. Her forward armor was not as sloped as elsewhere on the ship and was therefore the thickest, but shards of shattered iron, from armor and shot, sleeted in through the viewports, killing the helmsman and two others in the pilothouse. Even Kurokawa felt a sting as a sliver of iron clipped his ear.

“Take the helm, fool!” he screamed at Captain Akera, who seemed stunned by the sound and density of the pummeling
ArataAmagi
just received. Jerking his head as if clearing his senses, he lunged for the spoked, wooden wheel. “Secure all battle shutters but the three directly in front of the helm!” Akera shouted. “Report all damage!” he added into the ship-wide speaking tube.

“One of the forward guns has shattered,” came an immediate, coughing reply. They already knew that the gun deck filled with smoke whenever they fired any of the main battery, and the ventilation was poor. “Its crew is dead. Other gun’s crews were wounded by fragments that ranged the length of the gun deck!”

“Any other damage?” Akera asked.

“None I can see, Captain,” came the voice. “Perhaps a little buckling in the timbers backing the armor.”

“Very well,” Akera said. “Pull in the guns and secure the gunport shutters!”

“Belay that!” Kurokawa screamed. “We must continue firing!”

“General of the Sea,” Akera pleaded. “We must wait until the enemy is closer and we can unmask our entire broadside! Clearly they have devised a fire-control system of some sort. I doubt a quarter of their shots could have missed us. Leaving the forward ports open only invites more damage we have little hope of answering!”

Kurokawa opened his mouth, but before he could speak,
ArataAmagi
shuddered again under another cacophonous hammering that seemed even heavier than the first. Even through the thick deck beneath their feet they heard the bloodcurdling shrieks of Grik that time.

“A shot came
through
the starboard bow port that time!” came the excited, coughing cry of the Japanese gunnery officer. “It killed several, and pierced the forward smoke-box uptake! We have exhaust gas on the gun deck!”

Akera looked at Kurokawa.

“Very well!” Kurokawa seethed. “We will close the shutters and endure this insulting barrage as long as we must to come to grips with the enemy!”

Akera repeated his earlier order, then looked through the slits just in time to see the third ship in the distant line stream white smoke. He ducked down as more hammer blows pounded his ship and more shattered iron sprayed into the pilothouse, tearing jagged holes in the bulkhead aft. Kurokawa was the only one who hadn’t ducked, and he was miraculously spared. The first ship fired again, and after that, the beating became continuous.

USS
Dowden

“She’s taking a beating, all right,” Niaal said, staring through his telescope. “Her frontal armor looks all dented up—and I think it’s bolted on in layers. We may have knocked a few plates loose, or maybe shattered them!”

“Hmm,” was all Jim said. He was pleased with his division’s gunnery; fewer than half the shots fired had missed their mark and they still only had smoothbores, but it wasn’t good enough. At this rate, they’d eventually batter in the forward casemate of that one ship. They might even destroy her. But she no longer led her sisters; the other five had joined her in a parallel advance. When they turned—soon, most likely—they’d present their undamaged sides and all the guns behind them.

“Get on the TBS to Admiral Keje,” he ordered, the thunder of
Haakar-Faask
’s guns just astern nearly drowning his words. “Tell him we’re doing damage, but the enemy is about to turn on us and it won’t be one-sided anymore. We could get smeared pretty fast. We have to decide right now whether to break off or go all in. Either way, we’re gonna get hurt. If we break off, we lose Madras. All in, we could lose the fleet
and
Madras.” He shook his head. “Keje has to call this one.”

USNRS
Salissa
(CV-1)

Keje nodded, blinking, when he heard Jim’s message. From his elevated post high on
Salissa
’s bridge, he could see it all. The first Grik dreadnaught
was
taking a beating, but none of the enemy had been firing back for a while. The deadly accurate fire of Des-Div 4 must have gotten through forward and spooked them. They were still coming, though, and must think they had the advantage. They probably did—against Des-Div 4. Keje felt sure he could overwhelm the enemy with
all
his ships. His had the advantage of speed and maneuverability. But once they got in close, the fire control that had been working so well would be of little use—or would it? If his ships could coordinate their windage adjustments as well as their elevation, concentrate on small areas of the enemy armor, much like they’d been doing, they might punch through. . . .
Salissa
had 50 thirty-two-pounder smoothbores, and
Arracca
carried an equal number of fifty-pounders; probably more guns each than the enemy, but their likely hundred-pounders would outrange them and pack a heavier punch. Of course,
Salissa,
at least, wasn’t constrained to going toe to toe. She had some modern weapons as well. . . .

On a pivot mount forward, under the leading edge of the flight deck, she had a breeched section of one of
Amagi
’s ten-inch guns that could fire
Amagi
’s own shells. The two hundred-pound projectiles had been modified for muzzle-loading use, with a reduced-diameter bearing band and a heavy copper skirt to expand into the rifling. But even at the lower velocity the new gun could achieve, he knew the heavy shells would be devastating, and the gun’s crew could put the big bullets on a target the size of a felucca at fifteen hundred tails.
Salissa
also carried two of
Amagi
’s 5.5-inch guns, with Japanese ammunition, on her superstructure. These were long-range weapons, more powerful than
Walker
’s four-inch-fifties, with high-explosive, armor-piercing shells. He knew something about steel now, and there was no way those Grik monstrosities could match
Amagi
’s armor, no matter how thick their plates were laid on. He made his decision.

“Send to my dear Cap-i-taan Tassana-Ay-Arracca that she and
Arracca
must remain with the transports and oilers. I will yield to no arguments.” He paused. “Do ask her to keep a pursuit CAP above us all to guard against Grik zeppelins, though.
Salissa
and the remainder of Des-Div 4 will join the action against the enemy! The ship will be cleared for surface action, and all planes of the First Air Wing but that of COFO Cap-i-taan Jis-Tikkar will proceed to Maa-draas!”

USS
Dowden

“They’re turning!” Niaal excitedly echoed the cry from the lookout. The gunnery officer in the maintop was continuously updating range, course, and speed estimates. Jim could already see the aspect change of the enemy battle line through his binoculars. He had no idea how accurate the enemy fire would be at nine hundred yards, but he suspected his division would take
some
hits—and they’d be bad. The question became, Should he have his ships continue to concentrate on a single enemy, and maybe punch through somewhere? Their own fire would be accurate enough at this range that it would be hard to miss. On the other hand, if they spread their fire among all the ships, they were less likely to do serious damage to any—but they might disrupt the enemy’s gunnery and cause them to rush their imperfect aim. The second alternative might be safer, but the first was more likely to achieve something. He sighed.
This
one was
his
call. He decided on a compromise.

“
Dowden
,
Haakar-Faask
,
Naga
,
Bowles
, and
Felts
will continue firing on the first target—the Grik flagship, most likely,” Jim ordered. “All others will target their opposite numbers in the line of battle. Maybe we can wreck the one while keeping the others shook up.” Niaal repeated the order to fire control and the comm shack.

“Range eight, fi’, oh! Bearing, tree tree seero! Speed . . . they still turning, but I make it eight knots!” came the report from aloft.

“Match elevations at eight hundred, and fire when ready!” Jim replied.

“Stand by . . . Stand clear!”

“Clear!” chorused the midshipmen, and the salvo bell rattled for a long moment as the ship steadied. Then, with a thunderous jarring that shook the ship, all twelve starboard guns spat fire and heavy shot. An instant later,
Haakar-Faask
was enveloped in smoke as her guns thundered. Then
Bowles
,
Naga,
and
Felts
all seemed to fire at once. Even while the mighty spheres were still in flight, the rest of the division opened up on their respective targets.

ArataAmagi

Kurokawa was thrown to the deck of his pilothouse when perhaps fifty heavy shot struck his massive ship with an unprecedented, ear-splitting fury. Somewhere aft, deep, it seemed, he heard a terrible crashing and a chorus of shrieks.

“Fire back, you fools!” he roared. “Destroy those ships at once!”

Akera staggered back to the wheel, catching it as it spun, and leaned over the ship-wide tube. “Commence firing!” he cried. “Commence firing!”

“Not all the guns yet bear!” came the tinny reply, “and we took two roundshot through the open shutters—not to mention some serious dents that time! The timber backing has splintered in many places I can see from here!”

“All the more reason to return fire at once!” Akera almost screamed, glancing quickly at the compass binnacle in front of the wheel. He spun the wheel again. “Fire as they bear!”

Kurokawa had regained his feet, and his eyes smoldered. “Have the special comm division contact General Muriname at his aerodrome! I had hoped we wouldn’t have to use him—it will be costly—but we are taking damage, and the enemy capital ships do not seem inclined to engage. Tell Muriname it is time for his ships to come up! He knows what to do.”

USS
Dowden

“That
had
to leave some bumps,” Ellis muttered, staring through his glasses. The target had almost disappeared behind the blizzard of battering, shattering shot that churned the sea around it with splinters of iron. All his division used iron shot now that enough sources had been found to provide it. With so much copper needed for mixing the bronzelike metal for the big guns, and alloying brass cartridges for the new breechloaders and the “old” modern weapons they had, iron had actually become more disposable. Shot-grade iron was crude, high-phosphor, brittle stuff that could be cast quickly—but the process also made nearly perfect spheres that could be pushed at high relative velocities. Velocity was key to smoothbore accuracy. Without the spin provided by rifling, the shot
would
eventually hook, but the faster it was going, the farther it went before the hook became apparent. Shot-grade iron also hit nearly as hard as copper, but instead of deforming, it sometimes exploded like a ball of glass. That could be handy against wooden ships and enemy flesh. Maybe it
wasn’t
so good against armored targets, though. . . .

Jim gazed back down the enemy line. All the Grik dreadnaughts had been hit, and the sunlight revealed suddenly mottled, dented armor that had shone smooth just moments before. Dented, but apparently not broken. He frowned. There’d been a few return shots, but none of his ships had reported any damage.
How long can that last
? he asked himself anxiously. He heard the gunnery officer shout, “No change, no change! Same elevation!” Cries of “Ready!” reached his ears. “All guns report ready,” Niaal yelled in the tube.

“Stand clear!”

“All clear!”

Jim looked back at the target. A mere instant before
Dowden
’s salvo bell began to ring, he saw the side of the dreadnaught vanish behind its own massive, stuttering pall of smoke. The entire Grik battle line and the ships of Des-Div 4 fired almost simultaneously, but the projectiles that passed one another on opposite trajectories didn’t care. The Allied shot flew faster, but the Grik shot was heavier and retained its lower velocity better—and still had more than twice the energy when it hit naked wood.

It was Jim’s turn to tumble to the quarterdeck when two one-hundred-pound balls crashed through his beloved
Dowden
amid massive near-miss plumes of white seawater that stood high in giant columns around her. The splashes rocked the ship and left her deluged when they collapsed.

“Damage report!” Niaal bellowed, even as Jim quickly jumped to his feet and studied the results of their own fire. The spray around the target was clearing, revealing a sloping iron side that had begun to resemble the surface of the moon.