Turn 21: Average (finally)

8—15 May 1942

Finally, for the first time since the end of March, we’ve had a non-lousy week. Hooray mediocrity!

In fairness, it would be difficult to
incorporate a torpedo into the design
and have it not look phallic.

USS Sculpin (SS-191) scored again. Patrolling in the Marshall Islands on the 13th, she encountered a moderately-sized task force. Carefully avoiding the escorts, she set up a difficult attack on what she believed to be a small carrier. She missed it, and that main target escaped—but one of the fish in the spread wandered on to find the side of a 3,000 ton transport nearby. It detonated, sinking the non-target target. It was the second “accidental” kill of the war, and the fourth enemy ship sunk by Sculpin. She now sits atop the tonnage leader board, with a total of 26,000.

Also of note, two days before Sculpin’s encounter and not far away, USS Flying Fish (SS-229) brought down a 5,000 ton oiler. Objectively, it was a modest score; but given our performance of late, 5k felt like a gigantic victory. It was also heartening to see a Drum-class boat with an early success—the Fish only entered the theater at the beginning of this month.

Two other boats sank small targets, bringing the total for the week to 13,000 tons. Again: hooray mediocrity! Having finally passed the 200k milestone, we are standing at 209,000 for the war. We need 11k more by the end of the month. Eleven thousand in two turns seems like a small enough matter—but (again) given our recent performance, I presume nothing.

Turn 13: Triskaidekaphobia

9—16 March 1942

[For Turn 13, I’d intended to run several boats through their patrols on the auspicious date of 13 March. In the event, I was monumentally sick that day, and couldn’t really sit upright for most of it. How’s that for good luck?]

Since things have been going reasonably well lately, I’m entirely content to stick with my tried and true strategies (or maybe “habits” would be a better word). That is to say: priority one is always to have four top-of-the-line boats patrolling the Marshall Islands every week, with the Aleutians being the first “overflow” destination for boats patrolling out of Pearl Harbor. In the west, the Coral Sea and the southern South China Sea are the main hunting grounds. Older (less capable) boats tend to be sent to the Solomons and the Gilberts, where I willingly trade a higher chance for “no contact” search results for weaker counterattacks.

Sculpin, heading toward the Bay Bridge

Sticking with that general plan paid off with another pretty good week. Twenty boats were on patrol (quite a high number), and they collectively managed to sink five targets. That’s an excellent total—the second highest of the war—but they were, unfortunately, almost all small fry. The lot of them accounted for 19,000 tons. Now, I am not for one second complaining about a 19k turn at this point in the war. On the other hand, there was a lot of oh, what might have been going on this week—ineffective hits and very near misses on juicy targets; that kind of thing. In short, this was a good week that always felt like it was trying to be spectacular—but just couldn’t pull it off.

The star of the week, undoubtedly, was USS Sculpin (SS-191).

Turn 9: All we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant

8–14 February 1942

Will this poster come true in the AL&SWverse?

The mood around ComSubPac’s offices has been decidedly grim for the last few weeks. Scuttlebutt among the staff has it that the admiral (i.e., moi) is under a tremendous amount of pressure from higher brass; the kind of pressure that uncomfortably juxtaposes the concepts of “do better” and “or else.”

And that pressure is understandable. America is fighting a new kind of war—on land, at sea, and in the air; seemingly everywhere on earth at once. And at this early date, it is still scrambling desperately to figure out how to do it. Our natural resources and national wealth are considerable, but certainly not limitless; every ton of steel that is put into new submarine construction is a ton of steel that won’t be available to build a new aircraft carrier, or a new bomber, or a new tank. So, the Silent Service is fighting not just its country’s enemy, but also fighting to demonstrate its basic viability in modern warfare. It has no tradition to fall back on; it can point to precisely zero previous successful submarine campaigns in all of history to bolster its case.

And this simple fact must be acknowledged:  it hasn’t exactly done a great job of it so far. So many near misses. So few emblematic successes. So many boats limping home with scarred hulls and mangled masts—with nothing to show for it. Perhaps—as the sentiment is already beginning to take hold in Washington—perhaps those tons of steel slated for submarines might be put to better use elsewhere. And perhaps you men with the gold and silver dolphin insignia on your chests can better serve by focusing on fishing up downed aviators, by transporting special forces—by, you know, supporting the real warriors.

Do better. Or else.

Turn 2: First blood

18 — 23 December 1941

It may be somewhat counterintuitive for a multi-year conflict, but the second week of the war is actually fairly pivotal—at least with regard to making the first career milestone.  Because the majority of the fleet deployed last turn, they’ll see their first chance of combat this week.  Then, regardless of their results, most of them will fail their endurance rolls, meaning that that they’ll head back to port and won’t hunt again until Turn 5 or 6.  Thus, Turns 3 and 4 inevitably will be very lean.  Therefore, some serious proverbial bacon needs to be brought home now—or that first milestone is going to be a real challenge.

In the actual event, the turn was a mixed bag. It saw the first enemy targets destroyed—but fewer than I would have liked, and at a higher cost than I can sustain.

It’s the top hat that makes it.

The week also brought the first ULTRA intelligence of the war, indicating increased enemy activity in the vicinity of the Solomons.  USS Skipjack was one of the boats tasked with acting on the information.  She’d been among the horde of boats that deployed from Manila at the onset of the war, originally intending to patrol around the Carolines.  Instead, she headed farther east, and encountered a small convoy almost immediately.  After a perfect approach, on the night of 16 December she put a torpedo into a small (2,000 ton) merchant, sinking it and claiming the first kill of the war.