“Assuming this is all they have,” said Sitwell, acting as his Chief of Staff due to his better knowledge of the scene there on Java.
“True,” said Monty, but at the very least I think we can hem these landings in near Merak.”
Then word came of the landing further east on the coast near a small hamlet named Patrol, and Monty’s eyes lost some of their shine. “Any idea of the strength there? Any division identified?”
“It looks to be the leading edge of at least a regiment, but we have no further details. Collier’s Royal Engineers are at the airfield at Kalidjati.”
“That’s what they want,” said Montgomery, thinking. “They knew they needed Merak on the Sunda Strait to secure their communications over to Sumatra. But these landings at Banten Bay look substantial from all reports. I’m inclined to think this other landing to the east is merely a raid, aimed at securing that airfield. They wouldn’t land that far east to make a go at Batavia. That’s why they’re in Banten Bay.”
“Sir, we’ve got the Division Recon Battalion at Cerebon, and the 1st Sherwood Foresters on the road heading that way. Together with the Royal Engineers, we could put three battalions into that landing out east, and they’d be coming in from every side.”
“Perfect,” said Montgomery. “Make it so.”
Those Royal Engineers were fairly well equipped. They had 27 squads in all, with 13 Vickers MGs, plenty of 3-inch mortars and even four Bren carriers. They set out towards the landing site immediately, and soon ran right into a much smaller detachment of engineers that were making right for that airfield. They would meet at Pagadan Baru on the rail line over the Punegara River, and a sharp engagement ensued.
The Royals reached the bridge first, with rifle fire from the advancing enemy snapping off the metal girders. They had no idea of the actual enemy strength, and there was soon help at hand to the east when the recon battalion came up in lorries and began to attack a small detachment of Japanese armored cars from march. They drove them back, but the Japanese were only falling back on the first of their three battalions of infantry in this landing, and their defense soon strengthened.
Out in the Sunda Strait, Mountbatten had sent a pair of destroyers to screen and patrol, wanting to know if the Japanese were making any movement into the Indian Ocean. DD Jupiter heard the radio traffic near Merak, and steamed up to investigate, but Lieutenant Commander Norman Thew was running into trouble. He had just lowered his field glasses, after seeing the vast sweep of enemy troops ships and thought he would have a crack at them. Soon they began to receive enemy fire from small caliber guns, and he gave an order to maneuver, when there was a sudden violent explosion.
“Torpedo!” a man yelled from below, and it was clear the ship had taken a hard blow to the starboard side. In fact, Jupiter had struck a mine, making her appointment with fate exactly on schedule, in spite of the many changes in the order of these events. The mine had been laid to help screen the approaches to Merak the previous day, by the Dutch minelayer Gouden Leeuw.
So while spared the grave risk of the fighting in the Java Sea, Jupiter would nonetheless meet its ordained end here in the Sunda Strait off the rocky coast of Java. The tabular record of movement would report her end almost verbatim as it had in Fedorov’s history: “During maneuvers to avoid enemy fire, ship detonated mine in position 6.45S — 112.6E and was totally disabled. Remained afloat for four hours before sinking. 84 of ship’s company were killed or missing with 97 taken prisoner and 83 were either able to reach the shore or were rescued by the US Submarine USS-S38.”
Thus far, the enemy was ashore in at least three locations, but Allied resources had been close enough to reach them and move to contain the landings. But this was just the leading edge of the storm now blowing in from the Java Sea.
The real thunder was yet to roll.
Chapter 15
In the early morning hours of Feb 28th, the distress signal received from destroyer Jupiter, along with the report that the Japanese were continuing their landings at Merak, prompted Mountbatten to act. Operating well south of the Sunda Strait, the flight crews on Illustrious and Indomitable were already beginning to spot planes for a planned airstrike at dawn. Mountbatten therefore decided to detach a stronger surface action group to move into the strait prior to that attack and scout the enemy position.
Destroyers Scout and Tenedos were already north of a small island group that sat in the middle of that strait, and they were probing closer to the Sumatran coast to ascertain whether the Japanese were making any use of the recently captured port of Oosthaven. Destroyers Electra and Express now led in a small task force to the south of those same islands, with light cruisers Dauntless and Dragon, followed by heavy cruisers Exeter and Dorsetshire. They soon encountered a screen of three Japanese destroyers south of Merak, and began to engage them with fire from the cruisers.
Captain Agustus Willington Shelton Agar, VC, DSO, was also a man to stack up names and titles, and he stood aboard Dorsetshire, watching the darkness ahead as the first salvoes fired. There followed soon after a slight quavering, which prompted him to look over his shoulder, thinking one of the other ships had fired behind him. All seemed quiet, so he looked forward again.
“That’s Exeter up ahead, is it not?” he said to the Officer of the Watch.
“Aye sir, she hasn’t fired yet.”
Thinking it was no more than an echo, the Captain turned to watch as Exeter finally fired, her 8-inch guns lighting up her silhouette some 2000 yards ahead. The guns barked, followed by a long, low rumbling sound that the Captain thought was thunder.
“Mister Dawes, are we expecting rain?”
“No sir, clear ahead and with a good moon. She’s nearly full sir. Should be good sighting once we close the range.”
The hydrophone operator on Dorsetshire had heard the sound as well, but thought it was nothing more than the dull rumble of naval gunfire, or perhaps even one of the destroyers dropping a depth charge on a suspected enemy submarine. Captain Agar looked at his watch, marking the time 05:48, and gave the order to increase speed to two thirds. The small bright flash of enemy gunfire appeared ahead as the Japanese destroyers realized their peril and began to fire back. No heavy guns yet, thought Agar, all the better for us, but we don’t know what’s back of that destroyer screen.
It wasn’t anything behind that destroyer screen that he should have been concerned about, for there was something in his wake that was far more dangerous. He had felt something like this an hour ago as they entered the Sunda Strait, a fluttering in the air, as if the pressure was changing, though the barometer remained steady. There came a trembling in the atmosphere, a quavering vibration that rattled the ship, setting lose equipment to shaking. The engines would rumble like that at times, protesting a sudden change of speed, but Dorsetshire had been fairly reliable of late. She was due for a refit soon, and the Captain hoped he would not have engine trouble now as he entered battle.
There was a loud boom, followed by a low growl, like the sound of a long distended roll of thunder, but the skies were clear, the wind calm, save for the vaguest sense of unease on the breeze, as if something was happening, a subtle shift, not in the weather, but in the earth itself. Captain Agar looked over his shoulder again, the hair on the back of his neck prickling up, as though he was being stalked by some unseen foe, but there was nothing to be seen, at least at first.