1942

“I know,” Suzy said, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Here I’m going off to war while you wait at home. It’s supposed to be the other way around, isn’t it? I have to go, but don’t be too sad. After all, it’s not like I’m going very far or for very long.”

Congress had finally authorized women in the military, and Suzy’s nomination had been endorsed by both Nimitz and Spruance, which made for immediate acceptance. She would spend a month or two in training, which would begin sometime in August, and then be commissioned an ensign in the WAVES. She hoped she would be stationed back in San Diego, but they acknowledged that anything was possible when it came to the navy.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of the house,” she said. “That’s a big worry off my mind. I never really cared for the place until my dad was killed. Now, it’s all I have left of him.” Jamie felt honored by her trust and hugged her again.

Jamie had begun by regularly spending the nights with her and then, after a few weeks, had officially changed his residence to hers. Some on Nimitz’s staff were shocked, but the two lovers didn’t care. Jamie and Suzy had ignored the world and spent every waking moment reveling in the pleasure of each other. A previous remark about clothes referred to the fact that, on weekends, they spent all possible time as naked as the day they were born. The weather was balmy, and nudity simplified and expedited their lovemaking. Suzy had even managed to initiate the fairly conservative Jamie into the delights of swimming naked in the ocean at night and making love in the sand.

He would miss all that. More important, he would miss Suzy Dunnigan. He had told her, even brought up the subject of marriage, but she had demurred. She had to wait until her tour of duty was completed. She owed that to her father, and Jamie could not argue the point. Both hoped they would not have to wait until the war was over and life was more settled. Forecasts put the end of the conflict as far out as 1950, which depressed them both. She loved him, but she had a duty to perform that was as strong as his.

Outside, a cab pulled up and honked. They embraced once more, and she departed, walking briskly and not looking back.

As the cab pulled away, Jamie felt a desperate loneliness. So this is what it’s like, he thought, for wives and mothers to send their men off to war. At least Suzy would be spared the likelihood, of combat, although many places that would have been considered “safe” in previous conflicts were well within the range of bombers, and transit across the ocean was subject to attack by submarines. He hoped that she would be assigned stateside.

He still chafed at the restrictions on his going back to combat but had come to terms with them. Nimitz had been explicit-no combat. With so much time now on his hands, Jamie would work harder and longer on his duties on Nimitz’s staff, and on Operation Wasp in particular.

Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto paced the stern of the giant battleship Yamato. He was alone except for Commander Watanabe, his confidant and sounding board. All others knew enough not to interrupt him while he walked and thought.

Around him in Hiroshima harbor lay the bulk of the fleet preparing for its foray to Hawaii. He would command a mighty armada of carriers, battleships, and cruisers that would overwhelm the American navy; that is, if only the Americans would cooperate.

Yamamoto was confounded by the inconsistencies in intelligence-gathering capabilities. Intelligence gathering had never been a Japanese strong point, and its weaknesses were now glaringly apparent and irreparable. It was far too late to develop a force of operatives and observers who could operate behind enemy lines.

The first problem was the recently concluded battle of the Coral Sea. Just what had happened, and who had won? The Japanese navy had proclaimed a victory, which, in tactical terms, was correct. But the Japanese fleet had been forced to withdraw without accomplishing its objective, a landing at Port Moresby on New Guinea. Didn’t that failure constitute a defeat of sorts? It was very likely that sober analysis in future years would declare the battle a draw, and that disturbed the admiral. The modern Japanese navy had a string of victories that stretched back almost a hundred years. Had it ended with a draw in the Coral Sea?

A draw? Japan could not be victorious if they only fought draws. The preponderance of arms, real and potential, lay with the United States and her primary ally, Great Britain. If Japan continually fought draws, she would run out of ships and men well before the Allies did. There could be no more draws. There could only be victories.

Tactically, though, the battle had been a Japanese victory. The United States admitted to the loss of the carrier Lexington, and there had been no information regarding the Yorktown since then. Pilots had reported the Yorktown to be severely damaged; thus, she’d had to go someplace for major repairs.