Chapter 905: God Bless America

“BOOM!” With a massive explosion, the battleship Hyūga’s hull suddenly erupted in flames and began to sink. In that moment, the United States Navy had evened the score. Now, two Japanese battleships had been sunk by the Americans, and two American carriers had been sunk by the Japanese—just moments ago, the carrier USS Yorktown had also been deemed beyond saving and was scuttled.

Captain Miura, who had just received a telegram promoting him to Rear Admiral, stood on the swaying bridge, looking at the devastation around him. Flames shot from the pierced A-turret, and thick smoke obscured most of his vision, allowing him to see only a fraction of the sea.

He gave a bitter smile and tossed aside the official promotion telegram as if it were a piece of worthless trash. At a time like this, Miura no longer knew what difference it made whether he was a Captain or a Rear Admiral, and he certainly didn’t know if leading a thousand of his men to their deaths like this was worth it.

The entire warship shuddered violently again, followed by another piercing explosion. He knew the fire was out of control, and he knew it must have been a massive explosion in the magazine—in short, it was all over. At least his life would end here.

“Continue… to return fire! All turrets, independent action, fire at will! Long live the Great Japanese Empire! Long live His Majesty the Emperor!” In the end, Miura still shouted his orders. He had to hold up the American fleet. Only by holding them up would all these sacrifices have meaning, have value.

The hull was already listing from the massive flooding. The 30,000-ton behemoth groaned with the sound of twisting steel. Explosions and the cries of sailors were everywhere. The Hyūga’s main gun turrets were either destroyed or had lost their firing arcs. The entire warship had basically ceased firing. The sea around it was littered with floating bodies and sailors in the water.

Just off the Hyūga’s stern, in the direction of the American fleet, a Japanese destroyer was accelerating frantically, charging towards them. On the middle of its hull, the destroyer’s name was written in Japanese: Yūdachi.

This destroyer had been escorting the Hyūga as part of the bait fleet. When Miura had made the decision to turn and fight, this destroyer had made the same choice. It began to close on the battleship USS North Carolina at top speed, and finally succeeded in getting within the firing range of its torpedoes.

On the one hand, it was because the thick smoke from the Hyūga provided cover. On the other hand, the U.S. Navy had simply not expected the fanatical Japanese sailors to dare to challenge a battleship with a destroyer. And so, in a moment of carelessness, they had allowed this Japanese destroyer to fire off all its torpedoes in one go.

By the time the American sailors had opened fire frantically, turning the Yūdachi into a sieve, the torpedoes it had launched had finally caught up with the crippled North Carolina, riddling the wounded American battleship. The huge warship took three torpedoes in one go, and its entire hull began to list from the flooding.

Because the damage control personnel on the American battleship were all new recruits, with not many experienced technicians, in the end, due to ineffective damage control, the repairs on the North Carolina failed, and it began to sink slowly.

The “Mad Dog of the Solomons,” the destroyer Yūdachi, had achieved an even greater feat this time. Before it sank, it had sunk the heavily damaged American battleship North Carolina, completing the most worthwhile exchange in the entire Battle of the Solomon Sea.

Unfortunately, because the Yūdachi had not had time to send a distress signal before it was sunk, and the entire Solomon Sea was in such chaos with the battle lines so confused, no rescue was launched. So all the sailors on the Yūdachi never saw their rescue team. The most pitiful of them were found floating on the sea after four days and three nights, by which time they were all bloated corpses.

All 1,387 officers and men of the battleship Hyūga ultimately died in battle, and all 226 on the destroyer Yūdachi were also killed. If one were to add the sailors from the heavily damaged battleship Ise and other warships, the Japanese death toll had already exceeded 3,000.

And this successful torpedo attack was also the only achievement of the Japanese Navy’s bait fleet, sinking America’s newest battleship, the North Carolina. The score of ships sunk by each side had once again been reversed by this surprise attack, and the Japanese Navy was once again temporarily in the lead, three to two.

“General! The battleship North Carolina has just been… sunk… by torpedoes from a Japanese destroyer!” In the chaotic command bridge of the American aircraft carrier USS Wasp, Spruance also received the news from his subordinate that his vanguard had suffered a major loss.

Spruance was so angry at this news he almost spat out a mouthful of blood. On a main front where the U.S. Navy should have been bullying the few with the many, the Japanese Navy had actually managed to achieve a one-for-one exchange. For the American fleet, which wanted to wear down the Japanese Navy through a war of attrition, this was undoubtedly very bad news.

“Now, we can only see if our carrier planes can sink the Japanese Navy’s carrier fleet. They are our only chance… If they can succeed, then we still have a chance. If they fail, then we will become the sinners of all of America,” Spruance said, looking at his men. “Have the fleet continue to head west, to continue to open the distance with the Japanese eastern fleet.”

At the same moment, Yamamoto Isoroku’s assault fleet was accelerating forward, frantically closing in on the American fleet. They had to get close to the American fleet before the U.S. Navy’s carrier planes could free up and finish them off, to gain a greater advantage. So they were frantically closing in on the American fleet, hoping to decide the outcome with one round of shelling.

On the bridge of the battleship Nagato, Yamamoto Isoroku received the last telegram sent by the battleship Hyūga. The words on the message cut Yamamoto like a knife. After all, his fleet had already lost two battleships. This was absolutely very bad news for the Japanese Navy.

For the Japanese Navy, every battleship was a precious asset, a part of the family fortune that the country had accumulated through thrift and diligence. To have lost two here was an unprecedentedly heavy loss for the Japanese Navy.

“Your Excellency, Marshal!” a staff officer said, bowing his head behind Yamamoto Isoroku. “The American fleet has been constantly heading west to avoid a head-on collision with our army. Although their speed is not low, we are still closing the distance between the two sides. If we calculate at this rate, we should be able to see the American fleet within half an hour.”

Yamamoto, of course, knew that in half an hour they would meet the enemy’s fleet. And he also knew that two American warships, under the cover of other warships, were approaching his fleet one after another. Based on his experience and the intelligence provided by the floatplanes on his battleships, he would soon discover the welcoming gift the U.S. Navy had prepared for him, and he was also confident he could crush this fleet that had been ordered to intercept him.

“If my bait fleet can sink one of the U.S. Navy’s new battleships, what will the Americans use to stop my main fleet?” Yamamoto’s heart, which had been in his throat, seemed to have settled a good deal. After all, although the current battle situation made him extremely sad, the Japanese Navy was, after all, in control of the battlefield, and its advantage was clear.

In the script Yamamoto was calculating in his mind, the assault fleet he was leading could at least take out two of the American battleships and disrupt their operational deployment. If Nagumo Chuichi’s fleet were to succeed in its surprise attack on the other side, then the Japanese Navy would have, at the cost of about two battleships and two carriers, completely annihilated the U.S. Pacific Fleet—an outcome he could still accept.

“It seems Heaven blesses our Emperor. The victor of this naval battle will be the Combined Fleet of our Great Japanese Empire!” Yamamoto Isoroku placed his hands behind his back, looked at the distant sea, and waited quietly for the moment the American battleships would enter his range.

On the American battleship USS Mississippi, Captain Ogden lowered his binoculars, turned to look at his first officer, who was holding the latest battle report, and, after a soft laugh, said slowly, “So, the Japanese have launched a heroic counter-attack and have sunk our battleship North Carolina?”

“Yes, sir! That’s what the report says. It seems we’ll have to wait a little longer for General Halsey’s reinforcements,” the first officer nodded and replied to his superior.

Captain Ogden nodded and then said loudly to all the officers and men on the bridge, “Gentlemen, we should let the Japanese know that it’s not just them who have valiant soldiers. We Americans have our heroes too! Today! We will be our own heroes!”

“Yeah!” All the American servicemen present waved their arms and shouted. The Americans did not lack heroes, nor did they lack a heroic spirit. They just needed a reason, a reason to step into the role of a hero. Clearly, the Japanese had given them this reason. The current U.S. Navy also had its own reasons why it could not lose.

“Full speed ahead! The battleship Colorado can’t withstand the Japanese Navy’s attack. We have to take all of its hits for it!” Captain Ogden shouted, giving the order to accelerate. “Draw their fire! We will be our comrade’s shield!”

“God bless America!” After the two sides had closed to gunnery range, Captain Ogden shouted a resounding slogan. The Americans on the bridge, at this very moment, were brave and fearless, their morale high!

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