NIGHT FIGHTERS
Jack's conclusions regarding the _Black Bee's_ fight with the Jap task
force were correct. After he and Stew had been driven from the scene of
fighting and had abandoned their plane on the sea, the U. S. dive
bombers had come in for their deadly work. Diving from twelve thousand
feet, they had released their bombs at a thousand feet. Some bombs
missed their mark. Others made contact. One fell forward on the Jap
carrier, killing a gun crew. Two fell almost directly on the propeller,
rendering it useless. While the carrier ran around in wide circles, the
torpedo bombers closed in. Judging the enemy's probable position at a
given moment, they released their "tin fish" with such deadly accuracy
that one side of the carrier was blown away. Just as the Japs began
abandoning ship, the carrier blew up.
A squadron of U. S. dive bombers that had arrived too late to work on
the carrier, went after the fleeing cruisers, which did not pause to
pick up their own men struggling in the water. Two cruisers were sunk,
and one left in flames.
Ted had limped back to his own waters to make a crash landing in the sea
close to the _Black Bee_, and to be picked up by a PT boat. All in all
it was a glorious fight. One U.S. fighter and his gunner were
permanently lost. They had been seen to fall flaming into the sea. A
service was read for these men by the chaplain.
The Commander lost no time in letting his men know that this battle was
in the nature of an accident and that the real goal of the task force at
that time still lay ahead.
All day they steamed rapidly toward the west.
"It's Mindanao," Kentucky, Ted's flying partner, said to him. "We're
going to hit them where they live, in the Philippines. And will we take
revenge!" Kentucky's eyes were half closed as he looked away to the
west. Ted knew that at that moment he was thinking of "the best pal I
ever knowed," as Kentucky had expressed it to him, whose grave had been
dug the day after the smoke cleared from Pearl Harbor.
"Did the Commander tell you it was going to be Mindanao?" Ted asked.
"No. But I'm plumb certain it has to be from the course we're taking,"
was the answer. "Just you wait an' see! Some evening about sundown we'll
be meetin' up with another task force. An' then, man! You'll really see
some fightin' ships!"
They did fulfill a rendezvous at sunset, but the force they met did not
fit into Kentucky's picture. It consisted of four transports, three
cargo vessels and their escorts, two cruisers, and three destroyers.
The two forces moved into position, then steamed on toward the west. Two
hours later the Commander called Kentucky into the chart room. Since Ted
was with him at the time, he invited him to accompany them.
"You too may be in on this," he said to Ted as they entered the brightly
lighted cabin. "So you might as well know what it's all about."
Wasting no time, he led the boys to a large chart spread out on a table.
"This is where we are," he said, pointing to a spot on the chart with a
pencil.
"And this is about where we were during the battle with the Jap task
force, is it not, sir?" Ted too pointed.
"Right," said the Commander.
"Then Jack and Stew, if they made it, are on one of these three
islands?" Ted pointed again.
"That seems probable." Then, reading the look of longing on Ted's face,
the Commander added, "Everything in its time, son. We do not desert our
boys if it can be helped. I am sure you shall yet play a part in the
rescue of your buddies.
"But now," his voice changed, "there is other work to be done--dangerous
work. This island," he pointed once again, "is our present destination."
"Not Mindanao then, sir?" Kentucky heaved a sigh of disappointment, for
the Commander had pointed to a small island just inside a coral reef.
"Not Mindanao this time." The Commander smiled. "This is to be a step in
that direction. At present we do not have a force large enough for that
undertaking. But some time we'll hit Mindanao, and hit it hard," he
added.
"That's good news, sir," said Kentucky.
"Now we have another mission." The Commander's voice dropped. "The
troops we are convoying tonight are to be landed shortly after dawn.
Just before dawn we shall attack, using planes and warships."
"Tear them to pieces!" Kentucky beamed.
"We hope to. But first," the Commander weighed his words, "we may run
into trouble. And that's where you boys come in."
"What sort of trouble, sir?" Ted asked quickly.
"Land-based torpedo planes, perhaps." The Commander spoke slowly. "We
are not quite sure the Japs have them. We do know there's a landing
field on the island."
"We'll take them fast enough if they come after us, sir." Kentucky
squared his shoulders.
"At night it is not so easy," was the quiet reply.
"Night!" Ted stared.
"Your squadron has been making practice flights at night recently," said
the Commander. "That wasn't for fun."
"I--I suppose not." Ted was trying to think what going after torpedo
bombers at night would be like. "Exciting," he told himself. "And very
dangerous."
"In the past," the Commander spoke once more, "our task forces have been
destroying their torpedo planes long before they reached us in the
daytime. So--"
"So they're going to come after us in the dark, sir?" Kentucky
suggested.
"Our Intelligence Service has strongly hinted at it," said the
Commander. "So," he drew a deep breath, "I thought you, Kentucky, would
like to call for four volunteers to be ready for night fighting, just in
case they come after us."
"Count me in on that, sir--that is, if you think I'm good enough," Ted
volunteered.
"You're plenty good," said Kentucky. "Your plane was shot up. Got a new
one yet?"
"Sure have, same kind of a plane," said Ted.
"Good. Then you're on," Kentucky agreed.
"We'll be in the vicinity of the island by midnight," said the
Commander. "Have your planes in position ready to take off at a moment's
notice. Two destroyers will move in close far ahead of us. If Jap planes
take off they will notify us. You won't forget the soldiers crowded on
those transports? Transports are vulnerable."
"We won't forget, sir." There was a look of determination on Kentucky's
lean face as he left the chart room.
It was an hour after midnight when word came from the radio cabin that
twelve night torpedo bombers had left the shore of the Jap-held island.
At once there was hurried, excited action, but no confusion. The four
night fighter planes were warmed up. The fliers took their places,
tested their guns, studied their instruments, then settled back.
Besides Kentucky and Ted, there were Red Garber and Blackie Dawson. The
ship carried no better fighters than these.
"Remember, fellows," Kentucky called just before they parted, "the thing
to do is to rip right in and get them confused. That way they'll think
there are a lot of us."
"And they'll start shooting one another up," Red laughed.
One by one they cleared the deck to soar away into the night.
The night was not all dark. The moon came out at times, but not for
long. Clouds went scudding across the sky.
"We're not a moment too soon," Ted thought as in a brief period of
moonlight he caught sight of a dark bulk against the night sky.
"There they are!" came in a quiet tone over his radio. It was Kentucky
speaking. "Let's bear down on them. Can't hold formation. Every man for
himself. Choose your targets carefully. We can't have lights on. They'd
get us sure. But let _us_ not shoot one another up."
They bore down upon the advancing enemy.
It was an exciting moment, but to Ted everything seemed strangely
unreal.
"Like a dream," he told himself.
He knew soon enough that it was no dream. Underestimating their combined
speed, he almost ran into the foremost enemy plane. He was seen, but by
the time guns rattled, he was not there. Going into a stall, he circled
left, then came up below the bomber formation.
"Well, I had a look at them," he told himself. They were powerful
two-motored planes. He had tried as he passed under them to estimate
their speed.
Suddenly, off to the right there came the quick rat-tat-tat of
machine-gun fire.
"That's Kentucky!" He thrilled to his fingertips. "I wonder what luck!"
That was all the time he had for speculation. He was now behind the
enemy formation, swinging into position. And there, again, was the moon.
To his great joy, he found that the bombers were between him and the
moon, where they could be clearly seen.
With a sudden increase in speed he came up on the last plane, let out a
burst of fire, then, swinging right, poured a second volley into the
next plane. Then again all was dark.
To his surprise, in the midst of this darkness he heard gunfire--heard
it again, and yet again. "They're at it!" he exulted. "Fighting one
another."
Then suddenly the sky about him was all alight. A hundred yards away a
big Jap plane had burst into flame.
With a gasp, he pointed his plane's nose down and dropped into space. He
was not a second too soon, for the exploding plane all but blew him into
the sea.
When he had righted himself, he wondered momentarily whether or not that
plane was his kill.
Then the moon came out. By that time some of the bombers, now badly
scattered, were some distance away. Once again the moon painted a
picture. A small plane, like a catbird after a hawk, darted at the
bomber.
"Kentucky!" he shouted aloud. "Good old Kentucky! Give it to him!" He
saw the flash of fire, heard the rattle, then his picture was gone.
Ten seconds later the sky was lighted once again by a burning bomber
sinking toward the sea.
Off to the left another bomber exploded with a roar. One of the other
night fighters had gotten his man.
"They're scattered now," Ted thought as he set his plane climbing.
"Their torpedoes will never reach their marks. They--"
His thoughts were interrupted. The moon having come out once more, he
found himself above a Jap torpedo plane. Tilting his plane at a rakish
angle he fired straight down. His shots were answered by a burst of fire
from a small free machine gun. The slugs ripped into his motor.
He caught his breath. Banking sharply, he swung away to the right, then
started climbing. Up he went, a thousand--two thousand feet. He smelled
smoke, saw a tiny flame play about his motor, and that was all.
With care and speed born of much training, he dragged out his life raft,
inflated it, looked to his parachute, threw back the hood, stood up,
climbed upon the fuselage, jumped far and wide, then shot downward.
Five seconds later he felt the pull of his parachute, then settled back
to drift silently down toward a blue-black sea.
"What luck!" he muttered. "What terrible luck!"
In that moment all that he had hoped for seemed lost--his part in the
big show of the morning, the rescue of his pals, the great attack on
Mindanao. If he survived, where would he land? Would he be picked up?
How soon? And by whom? To these questions he found no answers, so
settling back he prayed for what he needed most--a bit of moonlight
before he hit those black waters. And his simple prayer was answered.