Commissioner Petrovich flinched. “The Great Stalin would not be happy,” he said. “The troops and tanks have to stay where they are.”
“The Great Stalin would be even less happy if the forces are destroyed without even seeing their enemies,” Zhukov snapped. He could understand Petrovich’s point, but he knew that it was futile; the choice was to move the forces from their hopeless position, or watch them die. “I’m going to move them.”
Petrovich glared at him, but said nothing as Zhukov issued the orders. Zhukov spoke rapidly and decisively, ordering troops to start moving at once, moving the tanks as the day drew to a close. Zhukov shuddered; was this what war was like seventy years in the future? He’d hoped that he had fought the British to a draw; he now understood that the British had been concentrating on other fronts, Norway and Australia.
We’re in trouble, he thought grimly. The Soviet Union was facing a new internal enemy – the never-to-be-dead Trotsky – and now it had suffered its worst defeat since the Revolution. Not even the humiliation of the Finnish War matched this; the Finns had lacked the capability to force the war to an end on their terms. The British…
He shuddered again, his mind drawing him a picture of mushroom clouds marching across the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, of red arrows moving across the map… from Iran to Stalingrad to Moscow…
“We have to end this quickly,” he said aloud, and Petrovich didn’t disagree. “We have to move fast.”
Chapter Sixteen: Point of No Return
HMAS Canberra
Sea of Japan
18th April 1942
Captain Mike Warburton couldn’t restrain his eagerness to finally get into the war. Like many officers and crewmen of the Royal Australian Navy – those who had survived the Japanese pre-emptive strike in 1940 – he had fiercely resented the decision to wait until the new improved Royal Australian Navy was ready before sending it into operations against the Japanese, even during Australia’s darkest hour. They’d watched the images of the Japanese invasion while they were working up the first submarines at the new/old naval base in Orkney.
He smiled openly as he contemplated his submarine. It was a world apart from the handful of cruisers and destroyers he’d served upon before the war, being more powerful and capable than any of those. It had been designed to be simple to build; the entire hull and its fittings – with the exception of some of the advanced technology – could be built at any yard in the world. The weapons were nothing like as capable as the ones the nuclear-powered submarines used, but they could be replaced with little effort by the Australian manufacturers.
“Captain, we have received the ‘go’ burst from fleet command,” his communications officer reported. The submarine could even pick up some transmissions underwater; no one in their right mind would surface so close to Japan. “They are ordering us to attack at will.”
“Splendid,” Warburton said. “Radar, conduct a scan.”
There was a long pause while a tiny radar antenna was extended, pulsing a radar signal out across the seas. The Canberra would have obtained a download from a satellite, but Warburton wanted to test his ship’s capability to operate on its own. After all, the British had lost their satellites for a long time – and see how that had affected their ability to make war.
“We have four transports and two warships, probably destroyers,” the radar officer reported. “They’re heading to China; three more ships heading away from China.”
Warburton grinned. “Move us into attack position,” he ordered. “Helm?”
The minutes ticked by as the Canberra glided forward under the water. The Japanese would have been wiser to sail in daylight; they might just have seen her under the water. In darkness, they didn’t stand a chance.
“Picking up some sonar,” the radar officer reported. “The coating seems to be absorbing it.”
“Good,” Warburton said. One aspect of the modern British submarines that had really awed him was the coating that worked to absorb some sonar signals. It wasn’t perfect – they’d had that point drummed into them time and time again – and enough signals could present submarine hunters with a contact, but no one expected the Japanese to get that lucky.
“Now sighting on the destroyers,” the weapons officer said. The display changed, revealing the enemy ships moving serenely to China.
“Slow boats to China,” Warburton said wryly. “Weapons locked?”
“Aye, sir,” the weapons officer said. “Barracudas one to four locked on the destroyers.”
“Fire,” Warburton ordered.
Canberra shuddered as she launched four torpedoes in quick succession. The sonar tracked the torpedoes as they ran free, heading for the Japanese ships. They never even saw them coming; the sheer force of the torpedoes, designed to punch their way through battleship armour, slammed into their hulls and exploded inside. The ships literally blew out of the water.
“They’re separating and increasing speed,” the radar officer reported. “They’re also turning on their decoy equipment.”
“Idiots,” Warburton muttered. The Japanese sonar decoy equipment only worked well if there was a large fleet moving in close formation. “Targets locked?”
“One barracuda apiece,” the weapons officer said. “Weapons locked.”
Warburton studied the display for a long moment. The temptation to play with the Japanese, to make them fear as Australia had feared, was almost overpowering. The ships could have been given a head start, over an hour’s worth, and they would not have been able to reach safety.
“Captain?” The weapons officer asked. “Weapons are locked on targets.”
“Fire,” Warburton ordered. Canberra shuddered again, spitting out the torpedoes in quick succession. “Impact reports?”
Canberra rocked wildly. “One of the ships must have been carrying ammunition,” the helm officer said. “It’s a good thing we were underwater.”
Warburton nodded. “And the others?”
“I think one of them is a Q-ship,” the radar officer said. “It’s coming about, despite being hit; I think the hull is stuffed with cork or something else. The others are sinking.”
Ridiculous, Warburton thought coldly. They think they can fight us?
“Yep, definitely a Q-ship,” the radar officer said. “They just lit up some sonar they shouldn’t have. Brave bastards.”
“Dead bastards,” Warburton snapped. “Lock weapons on target.”
“Weapons locked,” the weapons officer said. “Warhead; high explosive.”
“Good thinking,” Warburton said. “Fire!”
Canberra shuddered again, launching the high explosive torpedo. Warburton watched on the display as the torpedo struck, blasting a major hole in the side of the ship. Even with the cork – or whatever – helping it to float, the ship didn’t stand a chance and disintegrated, falling into the sea.
“Good work,” Warburton said. “Helm, set us on a course for the nest contacts.”
“Aye, sir,” the helm officer said. Canberra started to move again, heading away from the scene of the short encounter, leaving hundreds of Japanese floundering in the ocean, far from help.
“Communications, transmit a recording of the incident back to fleet command,” Warburton ordered. “Then inform them that we plan to continue the attacks until we run out of fuel or weapons.”