Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 03 (81 page)

           
“Flag, bridge, we have visual
sighting on destroyer
Xiamen
,
"the skipper of the
Hong Lung
radioed to Admiral Yin. “He is
signaling a request for assistance. Shall we come alongside?”

           
Captain Sun looked at Yin, who
silently shook his head. Sun considered asking the Admiral to reconsider,
thought better of it, then radioed, “Bridge from flag. Tactical recovery only,
longboats and stage-three damage-control parties. Maintain course and speed to
establish patrol position. Flag out.” Sun shut off. the intercom before the
captain could argue as well.

           
“
Dalian
reports he is safely aground, sir,” a
radioman reported. “Captain Yeng reports he can repair his fire-control system,
estimated time to completion, thirty minutes.” Another silent nod from Yin.

           
“Tell Captain Yeng to continue
antiair coverage with electro-optical and visual means until his radar
fire-control system is repaired,” Sun said. “Add that the Admiral commends him
for saving his vessel and for his confirmed kills, but that he is still the
primary antiair warship for the invasion force.” Captain Sun stepped over to
the vertical plot, studied it for a moment, then said, “We should have the
transports evade north into
Bangoy
Bay
—it will hide them better from any bombers
that are still in the area. When the all-clear sounds, they can travel at flank
speed south with their escorts to recover.”

           
“What escorts?” Yin muttered. “What
escorts are left?”

           
“You see, sir, we have at least six
patrol boats ... and the
Hong Lung
group will be in position to cover their withdrawal, of course. Once past us,
our air coverage will protect them until they dock at Zamboanga to load
reinforcements.”

           
“Six ... patrol... boats ..Yin said
in a low, wavering voice. “Six ... I began this operation with eight
destroyers, twenty frigates, and nearly sixty patrol boats. There are
no
capital ships left that can escort
the amphibious assault ships back to port? None?”

           
“Sir, most of our frigates and
patrol boats are still operational and still on patrol in the
Philippine Sea
,” Sun said. “We have recalled a few of
them, along with the destroyer
Zhangzhou,
to bolster our inner defenses.” Sun stepped toward Yin, straightened his back,
and said, “Sir, you deployed your forces like a true master tactician. You
fought a superb battle against the best the Americans could throw at us. Your
objective, the Marine invasion and the occupation of
Davao
and
Samar
International
Airport
, is almost complete. You have won, sir. You
have—”

           
“Sir! Enemy aircraft inbound from
the northeast and east of
Davao
,” the radioman reported. The vertical plot technician began drawing in
the aircraft reported inbound, and the number seemed to grow to alarming size
every second.

           
The northeast aircraft were farther
behind the eastern group, but were moving in rapidly. “What kind of aircraft
are they?” Sun ordered. “The Admiral needs type of aircraft. Get it!”

           
“Aircraft in eastern group reported
as B-52 aircraft only,” the radioman replied after several inquiries. “No
identification yet on northeast aircraft.” But judging by the speed at which
the vertical plot technician was updating their position, Sun could easily
guess—B-52 bombers, followed by B-l and F-l 11 bombers. The three southern
groups were just the first wave—the second package, not as large as the first
but even more powerful, were going after the Marines themselves.

           
“Issue an air-defense alert to all
vessels and all forces; enemy bombers inbound from the east and northeast,” Sun
ordered. “Have all forces take cover on the beach. Disperse landing craft and
assault vessels as much as possible.”

           
Admiral Yin looked as if he had been
deflated with a knife. He could only stare at the vertical plot, muttering
something to himself that Sun could not hear. “Sir? Do you have further
orders?” Sun asked. The Chinese Fleet Admiral could only mutter something
unintelligible, stare at a slip of paper he had been given by the
communications section, and stare at the board in absolute horror.

           
“Attention! Attention! Air-defense
warning! Gunners man your batteries and stand by.”

           
Colonel of Marines Yang Yi Shuxin
glanced nervously at the loudspeakers on the “island” superstructure above him,
then at the turrets where the ship’s numerous 37-millimeter antiaircraft guns
were mounted, but he quickly turned his attention back to the men on his
landing craft. No one said a word, but Yang raised his voice easily above the
amplified voice and said, “Be silent, all of you. The gunners have their job
and you have yours. Stand by.”

           
Yang was leading a troop of forty
heavily armed Chinese Marines in the invasion of
Davao
. They were aboard the air-cushion landing
craft
Dagu,
a monstrous sixty-ton
vessel that skimmed above the surface of the water on a cushion of air created
by six gas-turbine-powered propellers on the bottom of the craft; two turboprop
propellers above pushed the craft to over seventy kilometers per hour over land
or sea.
Dagu
carried two small
armored personnel carriers, each with 30-millimeter machine guns on board; the
landing craft itself was armed with two 14.5-millimeter guns manned by four
very young-looking soldiers. Unlike other landing craft,
Dagu
would take her Marines right up onto dry ground instead of
into chest-deep water.

           
The amphibious landing ship they
were on carried two such air-cushion landing craft, plus four conventional
landing craft, along with twenty armored troop-carriers on the tank deck and
thirty “deuce-and-a-half ’ utility trucks on the main deck, plus a total of
four hundred Marines. Other amphibious assault tank-landing ships carried
air-cushion landing craft, but they always called on Colonel Yang to lead any
assault. Yang’s men would be the first Chinese soldiers to occupy
Samar
International
Airport
and lay siege to the city of
Davao
itself.

           
Other smaller Yuchai or Yunnan-class
landing craft had gone ahead to try to draw fire, spot targets for the
destroyer’s guns, or dismantle beach defenses.
Dagu
would lead the main Marine assault on the beach itself. After
Yang’s Marines and APCs captured the beach, they would bring the amphibious
assault ship into shallow water, deploy the pontoon bridge sections carried on
the hull sides, and start rolling the trucks off the forward ramp. Once on the
road, the trucks would rush forward and take
Samar
Airport
—and victory.

           
The LST’s two big twin
76.2-millimeter guns began pounding away on the beach as the amphibious assault
ship made a slight turn to bring both guns to bear. “Ready!” Yang shouted, and
his men gave an animal-like growl in response.
Dagu
's helmsman started the engines, and the air- cushion vehicle’s
four-meter-tall armor-covered skirt quickly inflated. A horn blared on the aft
deck, the stern ramp lowered, and
Dagu
's
helmsman gunned the twin turbojet propellers. The air-cushion craft leaped out
into the darkness, hit the water, and sped toward the beach.

           
What Yang saw when they cleared the
amphibious assault ship looked like something out of a child’s nightmare.

           
Ships were on fire everywhere. At
least two other tank- and troop-landing ships were burning fiercely, with smoke
billowing out of two more. Antiaircraft guns were sweeping the skies in
seemingly random patterns. The water that Yang could see was littered with
bodies, capsized landing craft, and debris. As he watched, another explosion
ripped across the water, the shock wave strong enough to stagger him.

           
He had to remind himself that he
could not show fear in front of his men, most of whom he knew were watching
him. One of the toughest things for a Marine to do was step off a fast, safe
landing craft and hit the beach, and for most of them only the sight of a brave
leader would make them do it.

           
They had been dropped into the water
over two kilometers offshore, but the air-cushion vehicle ate up the distance
quickly—less than thirty seconds to go, and they would be on dry land. The
helmsman was taking a zigzag course into shore—he was probably only dodging
other destroyed landing craft or pools of burning fuel, but Yang always told
his troops that they did that to confound the enemy gunners.
Dagu
's gunners opened fire several times
on the beach, but Yang heard no mortars, bazookas, or heavy gunfire coming from
there.

           
“No resistance from the beach!” he
yelled to his men. The Marines around him growled happily in reply. “Drive and
conquer! Split into threes, divide, and run for cover! Watch for engineers
ahead of you.” Minesweeping engineers who had gone ahead of them had
fluorescent orange tapes on their arms and backs to distinguish them from . . .

           
A huge explosion erupted behind
them, lighting up the horizon so brightly that Yang could easily see the
treeline. “Eyes front!” Yang shouted as his men ducked, then began to try to
turn around in the close confines to see what had been hit. “Get ready!” Yang
did not look either, although judging by the secondary explosions, their
amphibious assault ship had been hit. He could faintly hear the roar of heavy
jet planes overhead, and
Dagu’s
gunners even swung their puny machine guns futilely in the sky after the engine
sounds. That did" nothing but highlight their positions. “Guns front!
Reload! Cover the landing!” Yang shouted. The gunners and their loaders were
too scared to listen— they were either watching the destruction of their mother
ship or scanning the dark skies above for enemy bombers. “APCs, start engines!”
The heavy diesel engines on the armored personnel carriers roared to life, and
gunners in the top turrets chambered rounds.

           
Seconds later, the air-cushion
landing craft hit the shore, the turbojet engines surged to full power, the
craft raced up onto the beach, and the forward part of the air-cushion skirt
began to deflate for offloading. The gunners finally began to rake the treeline
with gunfire. “Ready!” Yang shouted, and the adrenaline-pumped men growled once
again. The forward lip of the air-cushion vehicle hit the ground and the ramp
swung down. Yang leaped up onto the ramp, ran down it onto the beach, then
waved at his men, pointing toward the treeline not thirty meters away. “
Marines! Go! Go!
G—”

           
His last word was drowned out by a
massive cloud of fire and a head-pounding explosion—Yang felt as if all the air
had been sucked out of his lungs and replaced by sheets of pure fire. Several
Marines scampering down the ramp were blown off their feet and onto the beach
as a shock wave larger than any Yang could ever recall rolled over them. His
night vision was completely wiped out by a blinding burst of light, and his
eardrums felt as if they had burst—no, his whole
head
felt as if it had burst . . .

           
Four F-111G fighter-bombers screamed
into the area nearly at supersonic speed, right into the midst of the lines of
landing craft trying to land their forces on the beaches south of
Davao
. They did not carry Harpoon missiles or
bombs. Instead, each carried four 2,000-pound BLU-96 HADES FAE, or fuel-air
explosives, canisters. Each HADES canister contained three hundred gallons of
explosive fuel-oil, and the canisters were toss-released about a thousand feet
over a group of eight landing craft. About eight hundred feet above the water,
the canisters popped open, and the fuel oil began to disperse in large white
clouds of vapor. Seconds later, when the vapor cloud was about five hundred
feet above the landing craft and had expanded to one hundred feet in diameter,
tiny sodium detonators in the vapor clouds fired off.

           
The resulting explosion was greater
than the force of a twenty-thousand-pound high-explosive bomb, creating a
mushroom cloud of fire that stretched across the water for nearly half a mile
and a shock wave that churned the water into a boiling froth for two miles in
all directions, deafening or knocking soldiers unconscious and setting the
landing craft underneath the explosions immediately afire. Two of the HADES
canisters sailed over the beach, amidst several platoons of Chinese Marine
engineers, and the incredible force of the explosion was just as devastating on
land.