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Then, behind the talk, he began to hear the characteristic scream of bombers diving. The attack had begun.
Suddenly, for the first time, there were cries of triumph from the pilots.
"Got you, you bastard!"
"Shit, I felt that go up!"
"Eat that, you sons of bitches!"
"Bull's-eye!"
"Look at her burn!"
The men in the radio room cheered wildly, but they were not sure what was happening.
It was over in a few minutes, but it took a long time to get a clear report. The pilots were incoherent with the joy of victory. Gradually, as they calmed down and headed back toward their ships, the picture emerged.
Trixie Paxman was among the survivors.
Most of their bombs had missed, as previously, but about ten had scored direct hits, and those few had done tremendous damage. Three mighty Japanese aircraft carriers were burning out of control: Kaga, Soryu, and the flagship Akagi. The enemy had only one left, the Hiryu.
"Three out of the four!" Chuck said elatedly. "And they still haven't come anywhere near our ships!"
That soon changed.
Admiral Fletcher sent out ten Dauntlesses to scout for the surviving Japanese carrier. But it was the Yorktown's radar that picked up a flight of planes, presumably from the Hiryu, fifty miles away and approaching. At noon Fletcher sent up twelve Wildcats to meet the attackers. The rest of the planes were also ordered up so they would not be on deck and vulnerable when the attack came. Meanwhile the Yorktown's fuel lines were flooded with carbon dioxide as a fire precaution.
The attacking flight included fourteen "Vals," Aichi D3A dive-bombers, plus escorting Zeroes.
Here it comes, Chuck thought, my first action. He wanted to throw up. He swallowed hard.
Before the attackers could be seen, the Yorktown's gunners opened up. The ship had four pairs of large antiaircraft guns with five-inch-diameter barrels that could send their shells several miles. Plotting the enemy's position with the aid of radar, gunnery officers sent a salvo of giant fifty-four-pound shells toward the approaching aircraft, setting the timers to explode when they reached their target.
The Wildcats got above the attackers and, according to the pilots' radio reports, shot down six bombers and three fighters.
Chuck ran to the flag bridge with a signal to say the remainder of the attack force were diving in. Admiral Fletcher said coolly: "Well, I've got my tin hat on--I can't do anything else."
Chuck looked out of the window and saw the dive-bombers screaming out of the sky toward him at an angle so steep they seemed to be falling straight down. He resisted the impulse to throw himself to the floor.
The ship made a sudden full-rudder turn to port. Anything that might throw the attacking aircraft off course was worth a try.
The Yorktown deck also had four "Chicago pianos"--smaller, short-range antiaircraft guns with four barrels each. Now these opened up, and so did the guns of Yorktown's escort of cruisers.
As Chuck stared forward from the bridge, terrified and helpless to do anything to defend himself, a deck gunner found his range and hit a Val. The plane seemed to break into three pieces. Two fell into the sea and one crashed into the side of the ship. Then another Val blew up. Chuck cheered.
But that left six.
The Yorktown made a sudden turn to starboard.
The Vals braved the hail of death from the deck guns to chase after the ship.
As they got closer, the machine guns on the catwalks either side of the flight deck also opened up. Now the Yorktown's guns played a lethal symphony, with deep booms from the five-inch barrels, midrange sounds from the Chicago pianos, and the urgent rattle of machine guns.
Chuck saw the first bomb.
Many Japanese bombs had a delayed fuse. Instead of exploding on impact, they went off a second or so later, the idea being that they would crash through the deck and explode deep in the interior, causing maximum devastation.
But this bomb rolled along the Yorktown's deck.
