The Atlantic Express
by: justjames17
(© 2004 -2007 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
 

Chapter 52

Foxhound steamed at her best speed towards the east and her rendezvous with the Australian destroyer, 72 hours later she was entering Darwin Harbour in the Northern Territory of Australia. She was to refuel here and join HMAS Stuart, which was also refuelling after her long run up the west coast of Australia. Foxhound steamed in slowly navigating by sight through the vessels sunk in the harbour by the Japanese bombers that raided the town only days before. The smoke still drifted through the air from the nearly destroyed town, the stench of burning hung over the port and harbour. Foxhound was signalled to join Stuart at the wharf and she manoeuvred in to moor on the opposite side of the jetty to her consort.

Charles left Foxhound as soon as she was moored up and headed across to meet the commanding officer of the Australian destroyer, commander Spurgeon. Charles was met at the brow and the Australian commander saluted him and then they shook hands as he led Charles to his cabin. He offered Charles a seat then a cold beer that Charles gladly accepted as it was hot and very humid, his shirt was stuck to his back with perspiration as he sat and swigged on the frosty ale. Charles shuddered as the brew sluiced down his throat, "Damn! " Charles exclaimed, "That is a strong brew commander."

Samuel Spurgeon chuckled and replied, "Yes Captain we brew a good beer Down Under, I think you'll find it a little stronger than English ale."

Charles took another sip and nodded saying that it was a great draught especially on a hot tropical day like this. Charles asked about the bomb damage and learned that the Japanese had sent several sorties across to attack Darwin and they were expected to return at any time. Charles replied, "Well we'd best get refuelled and on our way as soon as possible, we don't want to be caught alongside in the next raid."
Samuel nodded and said, "The refuelling is already underway and should be completed in an hour and do you need your magazines topped up captain?"

Charles replied, "Yes we could replace the ammunition we used on our mission before we set sail again. We might need every round and shell we can squeeze on board."

The commander walked to the voice pipe and ordered his number one to organise a munitions truck from the camouflaged supply dump ashore to service Foxhound with 4inch, pompom and machine gun ammunition. Charles and Samuel chatted about their ships, Stuart was an ex royal navy Scott class built in 1918 on loan to the Australian navy along with 4 other older "V" & "W" destroyers that formed a flotilla which Goebels nick named the Scrap Iron flotilla when the 5 ships were serving in the Med supplying Tobruk while the Australian infantry held it against Rommell's Afrika Corps. Charles had heard of the sterling job these old ships did in the Med and he found out Samuel was in command and flotilla commander during this period. They chatted about their past service as the drank the cold beer.

After finishing their beer the two officers walked out on deck to check on the fuelling and the ammunition truck, both tasks were well in hand and they stood side by side discussing the intelligence about their targets. Charles was worried about the airfields reported at Buna, Samuel wasn't overjoyed at the thought of being attacked from the air, he suggested they lay down a heavy barrage on the areas where the old and new airfields were situated before shelling the rest of the bases. Charles agreed and they planned on doing exactly that Foxhound would attack the old airstrip in the centre of the Buna perimeter while Stuart pounded the new one on the southern edge.

The fuelling completed and the last rounds of 4inch were being loaded as the ammunition truck drove off down the long pier, the fuel pipes were disconnected and both vessels were in all respects ready for sea. Charles shook hands with Samuel who then saluted and swung aboard his ship as Charles stepped onto Foxhound's deck. Boatswain's pipes shrilled out their greeting to the captains and the deck officers saluted as their commanding officers saluted them then the quarterdeck. The two ships left the pier and made their way slowly out of the bay and turned to starboard once clear of the land. They increased speed heading east and behind them they saw high in the sky another waive of bombers heading towards Darwin.

Both captains and crews thanked the Lord they had got under way when they did, the enemy would have sunk both of them at the pier. They steamed on in company across the innocent looking blue sea their long white wakes like ever spreading bridal veils behind them. The faint shimmer at their funnels attested to the expertise of the engine room crews' careful control of the fuel to the boilers, no smoke to be seen by any watchers that would tip off any enemies over the horizon. Both ships set a cracking 25 knots through the tranquil waters, their knife sharp bows slicing through the playful whitecaps.

The voyage passed uneventfully and as they drew near the island of New Guinea the tall mountains reared above the horizon, a smudge of smoke on the horizon announced a vessel of some sort on their starboard and the action stations was piped throughout the two destroyers. The clatter of running feet sounded as the crews hurried to their guns as water tight hatches were slammed shut and dogged tight. The ships opened the range between themselves as they increased speed to close the suspicious smoke, gradually the topmasts of two vessels showed and through the binoculars they identified the masts as a merchant vessel escorted by a warship.

The range closed fast and soon the upper works appeared, a small freighter escorted by a fussy but brave little corvette appeared her guns manned and at the ready, the white ensign fluttered on the corvette's mast identified them as friendly and a brief exchange of signals informed the destroyers that they were on course for Port Moresby. Foxhound and Stuart turned away to continue their mission leaving the small convoy pottering along towards their destination as the destroyers stood down from action stations. The next day as the sun dropped below the horizon leaving a fast fading haze of purple pink and orange they were rounding the southern tip of New Guinea on the last leg of their journey. The voyage was nearly over their target was only another day away the two destroyers would have to make a fast run to hide behind Goodenough Island during the day before making the last run in to their target area as soon as darkness set in.

This was the riskiest part of their mission, to be caught at anchor close to land by the enemy would be the end of both ships, they prayed their camouflage markings would make them difficult to spot unless an aircraft flew directly overhead or an observer on the shore saw them. They navigated through the D'Entrecasteaux Islands in the pitch darkness navigating by the soundings and just as dawn was pinking the sky they anchored close to the dark jungle covered island. The anchor chains rattled through the hawse pipes and the two destroyers drifted back settled and faced into the wind.

The day passed slowly, the heat baking their steel hulls while the crews lounged about their action stations ready to jump into action if an enemy appeared. Sweat prickled their bodies and the light breeze hardly stirred the air as the ships swung now to face into the tidal current, small black biting flies appeared as if by magic carried out on the wind from the jungle making the men's plight even worse as they slapped at the annoying little blood suckers. Charles sat on his bridge stool flapping his hands trying to chase the insects away as Bradley appeared with a cool iced tea for his captain. Charles thanked him and the two watched the guns crew below the bridge swatting the flies languidly, Bradley said, "This is a terrible place I wouldn't live here for quids captain."

Charles grunted and handed the empty glass back then thanked his old friend as Bradley disappeared below again. The crew ate thick chunky sandwiches prepared by the galley, no cooking was allowed while anchored close to like this as the smell of cooking food carried a long distance, although tea was brewed and brought around to all. Time crawled on as the sun lowered behind the mountains, Charles stirred from his heat-induced torpor and he stood up stretching then scratched the itching bites on his bare arms. The bridge crew stirred and stood at ease as Charles blew into the engine room voice tube the chief answered him in his gruff Scottish brogue and Charles advised him to be prepared to get under way.

On board HMAS Stuart similar stirrings were going on as she too prepared to get under way, Charles ordered the anchors to be raised and the sound of the winches moaned dragging the ship forward as they regained the dripping clattering anchor cables as fresh water sprayed the salty links before they were stowed in the cable flat. The ships were soon adrift and their engines began turning slowly moving them out into the open as the light faded to black. A fast run to the southeast brought them to the New Guinea coast off Buna, the gunners opened fire as the two destroyers steamed back and forth off the airfields their 4inch shells exploding in bright flashes, the stench filled their noses and barking of the guns deafened the crew.

The night sky lit up as aircraft fuel began to burn, their missiles wrecking havoc amongst the parked planes as the Japanese rushed about trying to contain the conflagration. Shells landed rending human bodies tossing them about like broken dolls amidst the shattered burning aircraft, a shell landed in the bomb storage bunker and a massive explosion lit the sky as a column of flame boiled up like a giant mushroom. Charles satisfied with his gunnery broke off and steamed up the coast to Gona 10 miles away leaving Giruwa to Stuart's tender care when she finished with Buna.

Foxhound reached Gona and as she steamed closer Charles lookout spotted a dark shape moving out to sea ahead, Charles ordered the guns to open fire and the sky was rent by their flash and the shells arched through the black sky and struck flashes illuminated a small freighter of about 4500 tons as the shells exploded. They had caught a supply ship, Charles watched through his glasses as shell after shell landed on the stricken vessel until she was a drifting burning hulk, Foxhounds guns now swung towards land as she moved in flashes from the shore were seen, artillery was firing on them.

Charles increased speed and the guns laid down a heavy barrage firing as fast as they were loaded the guns firing as one concentrated the fire and made it easy for the gunner to sight the hits. The Japanese radio station was yammering over the airwaves obviously telling of their plight, the shore guns were not accurate but a few near misses threw up waterspouts before they were silenced, Foxhound now patrolled up and down shelling at will until the hour came for them to turn tail and make their escape. The three supply areas were reduced to a burning shambles; the surviving Japanese troops fled the bases using the constructed corduroy supply tracks through the swampy ground surrounding the shore bases.

Foxhound met up with the Stuart and both ships steamed at flank speed through the early hours of the morning heading for Normanby Island off the southern tip of New Guinea where they were going to lie up for the day. The hornets' nest their mission had aroused boded them no good will, the two destroyers were going to shelter in a deep-water inlet of the island well hidden from three sides by the protruding jungle covered promontories of land. They arrived at daylight and navigated in shore anchoring and praying they wouldn't be located.

Again the tropical sun burnt down on the listless ships, the land cutting any breeze and allowing the insects free reign, the day was torture and made worse when Stuart advised one of her oil pumps had seized up just before they made the island. She needed time to strip it down and rebuild it before venturing back to sea, Charles asked how long and commander Samuel advised him several hours. Charles imagined the engineers struggling in the hot bowels of the engine room and pitied the men but prayed they would finish the task before dark.

Meanwhile the Japanese hornets nest was buzzing with vengeance to find and destroy those who perpetrated this destruction, reconnaissance planes began scouring the sea and islands while their navy was steaming towards the area.
 

To be continued...
 

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Posted: 01/11/08