Kirishima keeps station of Akagi, 1000 meters on her starboard flank. The seas have moderated, the sun now shines, it is s imply glorious day.
The great ship remains at action stations, and the galley crews deliver breakfast to the men at their stations, bowls of rice balls, fish, steamed vegetables. The waves no longer break over her bows, and her decks are dry. It could be another day like any other when Combined fleet sails.
Except now the seas are potentially deadly, what dangers lurk submerged out there?
Yamaguchi hands the conn to the OOW, LT Hara, a competent man, he knows what his job is. He descends from the Navigation deck down to the radio shack, it is, as expected, somewhat crowded
The radio man is staring intently ahead, unseeing, everything concentrated on his ears, on the faint, crackling sounds of the headphones. He has a pad on his desk, lines of scratches, his head nods, another mark. The men about him murmur.
“And?” Yamaguchi asks quietly
“Each single mark is a bomb hit, double marks are Torpedoes”
There are a lot of marks. A great many marks
“We have smashed them, 8 BBs smashed, 2 have exploded, the base burns, Yamamoto was right……”
“But the enemy carriers?”
He nods. So, there it is. The American fleet is scrap. My rifles shan’t be needed today. Submarines and aircraft then.
“Let me know the total when you have it”
Kirishima rides easily under his feet. Well my old friend, my Mistress, our journey truly begins
big seas, fast ships, life tastes better with salt