1942

Well, Jamie thought, so much for our sense of navigation. “What about the others, sir? No one seems to know.”

“Son,” said Nimitz, “you were the only survivor in that cluster of debris.”

Jamie’s eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. “I’m sorry, sir. I tried so hard to help them.”

“We know you did,” said Spruance. “Maybe you survived for a reason. Now, show us the pictures and tell us how you got them.”

Jamie took a deep breath and got a grip on his emotions. In a plain manila envelope were the developed photos that Seaman Fiorini had taken. The navy had enlarged them to eight by ten, and the developing unit held the negatives. Other copies were en route to Washington. Fiorini would have been pleased.

“Spread them on my desk,” Nimitz said eagerly.

Jamie passed one of the glossies to Nimitz. “Admiral, only two are truly significant, and this one may be the most important. It proves that the Japanese ship fired eighteen-inch shells.”

The enlarged picture was somewhat grainy, but it clearly showed Jamie holding a measuring tape against the base of a gigantic shell. The unit indicators were clearly visible on the tape.

“Good Lord,” Nimitz muttered.

Jamie passed another across. “And this, sir, is the second most important. At the time Seaman Fiorini took this, the Jap was damned near alongside the hulk of the Pennsylvania. Even though the Jap is slightly farther away, you can see the enormous size differential.”

“Unbelievable,” said Spruance. “Like an adult among small children. That Jap battlewagon is twice the size of the Pennsylvania.”

“At least that much, sir,” Jamie added. “The pictures don’t give a true indication of perspective. Sir, may I ask who the Jap is?”

Spruance looked at Nimitz, who shrugged for him to go ahead. “Lieutenant, the ship must be their new battlewagon, the Yamato. We’d heard rumors that she was nearly finished and that she was big. What we didn’t know was how big. We thought she’d be in the same league as our North Carolina and Washington, at about 37,000 tons, and carry sixteen-inch guns. The Pennsylvania displaced 33,000 tons, and this beast must go sixty-five or seventy thousand.”

“And carry eighteen-inchers,” Nimitz added, still almost disbelievingly. The proportional difference in strength and weight of shell went far beyond the two inches in size.

Spruance shook his head. “Our engineers recently concluded that an eighteen-inch gun was years away in development, and that the Japs would have difficulty doing anything better than fourteens. God, they’ve euchred us again.”

Nimitz stood up and paced his small office. “This also means that we must dismiss any thoughts of using our battleships in duels with theirs. The North Carolina and Washington are en route to Pacific waters, but they’re not going to get even close to that monster unless the odds are overwhelmingly in our advantage.” He turned to Spruance. “Ray, all this does is confirm that we’re going to have to win this war with carriers and subs, not battleships.”

“Even if we had any battleships, we wouldn’t use them,” Spruance grumbled.

The South Dakota, a more modern version of the Washington and North Carolina, was finishing her shakedown training, but that was it. The Alabama would be launched shortly, but would not be ready until late in the year. The others in the class, the Indiana and Massachusetts, would be launched in 1942 but would not be ready until the next year. Not counting the old battlewagons in California waters, the United States would have three battleships in the Pacific.

These ships, however, were all in the 37,000-ton class. The 45,000-ton Iowa was scheduled for launch in late summer but would not be available for duty until mid-1943. Even if she were available, the Iowa would be seriously outgunned by the Yamato.

“No battleships and no carriers,” said Nimitz. “All of that means no relief for Hawaii or the Philippines.”

“Sir,” said Jamie, “are the islands going to be invaded?”

“It could happen at any time,” Nimitz answered. Both he and Spruance knew it was about to occur as they spoke, but Lieutenant Priest had not been cleared for Magic information.

“Then I would like to return to sea duty as soon as possible.”

“You’re entitled to go on leave,” Spruance said.

“I’d like to take it some other time.” Jamie grinned through cracked lips. “After all, sir, there’s a war on.”

Nimitz smiled. “So there is, son, but you’re not going to be in it for a while. I’m assigning you to staff work here so we can pump your brain about the Yamato, as well as the Japanese gunnery and torpedoes. Not too many people have seen the Jap navy in action like you have.”

Spruance looked away as Nimitz made his speech. Another Magic intercept had caught an angry Yamamoto castigating someone on the Yamato for executing American prisoners. Lieutenant Jamie Priest appeared to be the sole survivor of the last voyage of the Pennsylvania. There was no chance he was going back in harm’s way at this time.