There was another round of enthusiastic acclaim and Ellis smiled. It was elegant. He knew it couldn’t be “regulation,” but sometimes they had to improvise. “Admiral,” he revised, nodding with a grin. “We need to work on logistics-a lot. We’re not exactly starting from scratch, as we learned quite a bit before Baalkpan, but we had Letts around to handle it. Besides, defensive and offensive logistics are just as different as defensive and offensive tactics. I wish Alan Letts was here now, but we’ve got to sort it out. It could have been a lot worse at Rangoon, disastrously worse, but at least we had everything we needed. It just wasn’t necessarily where we needed it.”
“That chore will largely and necessarily fall upon you,” Keje said, “and by extension, every executive officer of every ship, battalion, regiment, and company in this command. You are my ‘executive officer’ and chief of staff. You must coordinate this effort.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral.”
“It will become massive quite soon,” Keje warned. “The troops, equipment, munitions, ships-all are ‘in the pipeline,’ as you say, right now. You must put yourself in front of this situation.”
“I’ll see to it,” Ellis said, looking around the table with an expression even Lemurians could read by now that said, “There better be a continuous procession of ‘execs’ to see me ASAP.”
“Next?”
“We need better contingency planning,” Pete said. “My fault, this time. Jim asked me to add aircraft to the plan, but I didn’t think things through well enough.” He nodded at Tikker, sitting opposite and to the left. “A couple of times, we could have used close support again after Captain Tikker flew home. We didn’t have any contingency for that possibility. I just came up with some guidelines and said ‘do this.’ Granted, it might not have worked anyway. Our communications are limited and I don’t know if I could’ve even gotten through to him later. Things got really tangled up toward the end. Frankly, comm discipline went straight to hell, and we’ve got to fix that. As long as we’re stuck with a single frequency, we’re just going to have to work around it. Still, if I’d only thought to have Tikker put a squadron on the water, maybe carried some bombs and fuel on a couple of ships, we could’ve had air support and recon throughout the latter part of the fight.”
“Excellent point,” Keje said. “In fact, I think it should become policy that all ships carry enough fuel to resupply several aircraft-just as Walker and Mahan once did.” He paused. “That brings us to another issue. Captain Tikker, all things considered, the Wing performed extremely well. You are to be commended. I would like for you to explain, however, the reasons for the number of aircraft and crews we lost in this action.”
Tikker stood. He’d already discussed this with Keje, and he hadn’t expected to be called out. “First of all, Aahd-mah-raal, the very nature of air operations is dangerous in the extreme. It is also new. Unlike many of the new things we learn, however, aviators are not standing on the ground or upon the deck of a ship when they try the ‘real thing’ for the first time. Everyone makes mistakes, but in the sky there is no room for them. It takes only one.” Tikker looked down, then met Keje’s eyes again. “One of the mistakes was one we have tried to train away, based on Major Mallory’s cautions. He called it ‘target fixation.’ I know I witnessed it firsthand in one instance, when we lost a plane directly in front of General Aal-den’s Marines.”
Pete was nodding. “I saw it. I’ve seen it before too. It was a classic case. The kid clearly meant to drop on a particular group of Grik… and just followed the line a little too long. Hit the trees.” He shrugged. “It’s a terrible, wasteful, tragic thing, but it can happen to anybody if you’re not careful. It happens on the shield wall! You get to paying too much attention to the enemy in front of you and the bastard next to him sticks you with his spear.” He looked at Keje. “Hell, it can even happen to admirals.”
Keje nodded. “That is exactly the point I wanted to make. To everyone, not just Captain Tikker. We lost three aircraft to this ‘target fixation’-one each from three of four squadrons we sent to battle. A few of the planes had mechanical problems and returned to the ship, and one had to land in the river near Donaghey due to engine failure, but all their crews were safe. We had one plane and crew that simply disappeared. No one saw it go down or where it went. In total, we lost four crews and eight planes out of thirty-two! Granted, four of those planes and crews were recovered and will fight again, but they were out of this fight! That is a higher percentage of losses than any other force engaged! Do not let it be said that the Naval Air Corps does not ‘pull its weight’! Still, the one greatest single cause of our loss was this ‘target fixation,’ and General Aal-den is correct; it can happen to anyone. My friends, perhaps the greatest example of this is what we planned for and did to Amagi herself! Let this thought linger in your minds as we prepare for the invasion of Saa-lon. Never let it be far from your thoughts as we plan. Think on it now as we discuss the mistakes of the enemy, and the things we did right!”
Lord General Rolak glanced at Safir Maraan and his eyes twinkled.
“Old warriors and their heroics,” Safir bemoaned. The laughter lifted fallen spirits.
“Through the noble efforts of General Aal-den and myself,” Rolak began, “as well as the superfluous presence of a pair of youngling Marines, we have gained a most useful asset for the Alliance! We will soon know everything there is to know about Saa-lon in particular, and the Grik in general.” His tone lost its humor. “I expect we will learn more about our enemy, at last, than we can bear to know after a meal.” He gestured to a pair of Marines, and together with Risa, they entered one of the inner chambers of the admiral’s quarters. A moment later, they returned with a living Grik! Some of those present had been expecting this, but most hadn’t known and there were a few gasps and growls.
“May I present my new pet, and special advisor on Grik affairs!” Rolak said with a flourish. “Hij-Geerki!”
With rapid, nervous glances around the room, the old but still ferocious-looking creature hesitantly bowed.
CHAPTER 16
North of Tjilatjap (Chill-chaap)
G ilbert Yeager leaned over the rail, staring down at the water and the bubbles gushing up from below. He was chewing some of the yellow tobacco leaves, and occasionally he’d spit in the tumbling, gurgling water. Laney was down there in a hardhat and diving suit, welding Santa Catalina ’s open seams. The obnoxious bastard had guts; there was no doubting that. He was still an asshole, though, and it was fun to spit “on” him. Lieutenant “Mikey” Monk stood next to Gilbert, also looking down, as did a squad of musketarmed Marines. Apparently there were no flashies in the swamp, something they’d speculated on before, based on the less salty water and the “frog folks,” who couldn’t prosper here if flasher fish were around. Even if none of the voracious silvery fish were present, there were doubtless other things-and the frog folks themselves, of course. Ever since the “Battle for Santa Catalina,” however, the slippery, sticky-tongued devils had left the salvage party alone. Chapelle wasn’t sure how to take that. He was glad, no question, but he hadn’t expected them to give up so easily. That indicated a level of intelligence beyond the Uul class of Grik at any rate. They’d taken a lot of casualties, sure, but there were a lot of them. Every night they surrounded the ship, croaking, thrumming, and chirping at one another, and the lights reflected hundreds of glowing eyes. Even now, in the light of day, eyes could be seen, barely above the water, peering at them like little crocodiles-or big frogs. They kept their distance, and the Marines were ready to shoot any that ventured too close to Laney, but after the previous violent encounter, they now seemed completely content just to stare.