24th December 1941
1800 hours

Splash!

The stormy tropical ocean water erupted out of nowhere portside of the destroyer IJN Hidoikaze. A flurry of seawater spews into the air as the shell straddles the Kamikaze-class destroyer. Kaigun-Shosa Itazura Tonaki, a mid 30s career officer long overdue a promotion, flinched instinctively. All this time, he’d been tunnel-visioned chasing a Dutch submarine which may or may not have already escaped. Now, they stumbled upon Lemoekoetan island with only 10 miles of rough seas separating the island and Hidoikaze.

“Yama! Since when were there shore batteries here?!” Itazura shouted. Itazura was amongst a whole sleuth of Japanese commanders who deemed the Dutch incapable of defending its territories outside of Java and Sumatra. Dutch controlled waters were larger than Japans, yet the Dutch boasted a defensive navy which was barely a tenth the size of Imperial Japan’s.

“Our intel reports and reviews claimed there shouldn’t be any here, sir!” Itazura’s navigation officer replied back sternly. Japanese naval reports indicate that there is, with certainty, no shore batteries in west Borneo besides Kuching. Itazura instead had been largely concerned about allied minefields in the area, but so far they’ve encountered none. So to be met with gunfire from what he assumed are shore batteries, which he never knew existed, Itazura grows uncomfortable with the situation unravelling. 

To Itazura’s knowledge, Japanese reports on Dutch shore batteries were unflattering. Largely consisted of 3-4 inches in calibre and almost all concentrated on Java. Yet the splashes erupting from the water were monstrous, more akin to those thrown up by a light cruiser’s main guns. Shells of that size would easily penetrate Hidoikaze’s light destroyer armour. The logical option is to turn the destroyer hard to starboard and escape from the island's shore batteries range. As shells were straddled and encroached ever so closer to the Hidoikaze, Itazura realised the situation was more complex than he wished. 

To his starboard is the Are, a Yubari-class light cruiser who is not only larger, but more heavily armed and is steaming at 28 knots. The Hidoikaze therefore were sandwiched between the Dutch shore battery and her own ally. Turning immediately would risk a collision, and might draw out an unpleasant reaction from Kaigun-Taisa Hiroki Tanaka, his superior. Much to Itazura’s reluctance, he made the decision to instead wait for the Are to overtake the Hidoikaze, to then turn to starboard. Enraging his superior wouldn’t look good on his report he thought, and would probably delay his promotion even further.

“Gunnery Officer! Train the guns to the island post-haste!” Itazura roared, his voice masked by the deafening action station's alarm of the ship. Hidoikaze’s complement, filled with determination and excitement after a boring chase of a submarine, scrambled up ladders, manning the Hidoikaze’s 4 4.7 inch guns in a disciplined urgency.

The island, barely visible behind a thick curtain of a tropical storm in the Karimata strait, lit up once more. A hail of shells straddled around the Hidoikaze, barely close enough to cause any damage, but it alarmingly closed in on the destroyer after every salvo. Undeterred, the Hidoikaze fired back in raging defiance. Hidoikaze’s crew with her 4.7 inch guns sent reply after reply at almost 5 rounds per minute, and in this condition that is impressive. The splitting crack of her guns is deafening even from the bridge, Itazura couldn't imagine how it’d sound as a gunner.

Itazura gritted his teeth as he observed the action from the bridge through his binoculars. Straining his eyes it’s clear to him that his shells find their mark on the island. Yet the island seemingly remained unscathed. It continues to fire back, undisturbed. Amidst frantic reloading on deck and Itazura’s officers arguing where the shells are coming from, the first shell struck the Hidoikaze.

A monstrous clang reverberated through the ship’s steel hull. The entire ship lurched violently, the cringing sound of metal under intense pulling stress echoed through the whole ship. Itazura and his officers on the bridge instinctively threw themselves to the ground. Itazura, at the first instance of respite, forced himself upright as the creaks subsided. The Hidoikaze was struck midship, a thick plume of black smoke spewed out violently from what once was the aft funnel. The stench of melting metal and charred flesh was overwhelming. With this single shell the Hidoikaze lost her 4.7 inch gun midship along with its crew. Even worse, the shell had penetrated through to the boiler room significantly reducing her speed from 30 knots to 24. 

A flicker of hope ignited Itazura amidst the smoke. With Hidoikaze’s much reduced speed, the Are would overtake them quickly. But even Itazura knew this was a microscopic silver lining, he was against reducing Hidoikaze’s speed in order to be harder to hit in the first place. They were still within the range of the island’s range and every second they stayed longer in that range, the more shells would fall.

The Hidoikaze reeled hard to starboard. At 24 knots escape felt like a desperate prayer. Itazura barked orders left and right amidst the chaos, but another kind of chaos was brewing below deck in the engine and boiler rooms. The high-explosive round had ignited a hellish fire in the boiler room, already taking the lives of half the helmsmen stationed there, including their superior Head of Engineers. Catastrophically, unbeknownst to Itazura nor the rest of the helmsmen, the steering mechanism was critically damaged. Precious minutes went by before the first engineers and helmsmen scrambled to repair Hidoikaze’s steering.

The Hidoikaze continued firing with her remaining guns, and as Itazura had already observed, they were hitting their marks. Yet much to his annoyance, the Dutch were seemingly unaffected. Shell after shell lands alarmingly close to Hidoikaze, Itazura was aware it’s only a matter of time before another shell lands their target. Only then Itazura received news that his Commander (E) was killed, and the ship’s steering was damaged.

As the Hidoikaze ever so slowly starts to turn to starboard, a thunderous boom, like a hammer striking, ripped through the air. The gazes of Itazura and his officers glimpsed at the Are as a geyser the size of a monument erupted around the cruiser, flinging seawater skyward. The Are’s metal structure vibrated aggressively and a deafening screech of tortured metal was audible even from the Hidoikaze’s bridge. The Are, who were supporting the Hidoikaze’s bombardment of Lemoekoetan, was struck by a torpedo. The Dutch submarine, who were the sole reason the Hidoikaze and Are split off from the main fleet to chase, claimed the Are. It became abundantly clear that the entire situation was a trap, and Itazura blissfully unaware they had already been trapped.

As the water once flung high into the air came crashing down back to the surface, a blinding flash erupts, illuminating the once dark stormy ocean waters. It was as if the sun were brought closer. Itazura’s skull and ears were rudely assaulted by the deafening explosion of the Are’s magazine detonating. He could feel the warmth of the explosion from the bridge. A fiery bloom and pillar of smoke consumed the Are, flames consuming its superstructure and turrets still pointed towards the island. Before the Hidoikaze’s crew could begin processing what happened. The shockwave smashed the starboard of the Hidoikaze.

“Flank speed!” Itazura barked despite the ringing in his ears. Itazura hadn’t realised this but the violent shockwave underwater had prematurely decommissioned the rudder and propeller. 

“Captain! The helmsmen said the entire steering mechanism is unresponsive, we’re stuck hard to starboard!” a sailor’s voice shrieked. The Hidoikaze is circling back to the shore batteries range. Itazura’s heart sank to his stomach. Loss of manoeuvrability is the nightmare scenario. It was their only hope of escaping this mess and with that gone, the fate of the Hidoikaze was sealed. The only question left was who would the Hidoikaze succumb to? The shore batteries or the submarine?

Amidst the dire situation, the guns of the Hidoikaze kept on firing. The ever so attentive Dutch shore batteries were all too happy to fire again as the Hidoikaze returned to their firing range. A rain of shell fire came landing and it became apparently clear to Itazura that they would fight until the bitter end. Surrender? Unthinkable. Scuttling? The Dutch wouldn’t let them. Every sailor knew their fate was sealed, yet none whimpered. It was up to Itazura to finally confirm what they all knew would come.

"Sailors of the Imperial Japanese Navy!" Itazura's voice, raspy with emotion, shouted out from the shattered windows of the bridge. "From gunnery officers to stokers, fight with all your strength! Tonight, we face death, but let it be with honour! We will defend our Emperor, our Nippon!" He gulped down a wave of emotion before shouting with all his might, "Long live the Emperor!"

The entire bridge cheered back in a flurry of nationalistic pride. The entire crew, washed away of any uncertainty, at complete peace with their sealed fate, fought back harder than ever before. The Hinomaru, now raised on the main mast. The destroyer’s guns were firing at a staggering rate, torpedoes were launched everywhere, the ship’s machine guns were spent, and sailors with rifles began firing wildly towards the island. It was a sight to behold, a sight any self-respecting Japanese commander would appreciate.

But the fight was long over, Hidoikaze’s futile attempt only delayed the inevitable. A shell slammed the remaining funnel, another the anchors. Yet another made their mark, this time landing on her stern. Damage was minimal again but each hit only reminds of Hidoikaze’s impending doom. Then, an explosion resonated throughout the ship before Hidoikaze plunged into total darkness. Hidoikaze’s electricity completely vanished and brought the destroyer into a complete stop. Hidoikaze, now dead in the water with no means of propulsion laid at the mercy of encroaching Dutch hands.

The shore battery must’ve noticed as they mercilessly batter the Hidoikaze. Each shell sends the destroyer viciously vibrating, its steel frame trying to hold her together. With every thud the Hidoikaze takes in more and more seawater. She began listing portside but still managed to remain afloat. Amidst the straddles and near misses, a shell landed just behind the bridge, igniting a blaze of fire which spread around the ship like the plague. Itazura and his remaining crew battled the inferno with everything they had even under heavy fire.

Suddenly, an explosion just above the bridge ripped apart half of the bridge. Itazura and his officers were thrown to the floor. Amidst the twisted metal and raining debris, Itazura found himself staring at the officer of the watch, who just momentarily was relaying his orders left and right. Now he lay slumped against the railing face first. His hands seemed to grip the floor but it became apparent that it’s just a post mortem reflex. The officer is dead, half his head gone and the rest barely attached by a tiny piece of flesh.

On his knees, all Itazura could see was the bridge’s floor stained in the blood of Itazura’s officers. Blindly, he stared at the raging seawater, ever so slightly turning red, crashing to the ship's starboard. A flicker of movement, a flash of white against the stormy grey seas caught his eye. A white trail, a spear penetrating the stormy waves, a snake carving a path through the water. In that exact moment, the chaos around him - the roar of his guns, the dying screams of his sailors, the shrieks of his ship - faded into the background. His eyes fixated on the torpedo making its way straight underneath him. Staring at his fate, staring at his demise. This is it. The end of Hidoikaze, and her captain Itazura. 

The torpedo struck midship. A deafening explosion followed by the hull sliced in half in an audible snap. Hidoikaze’s both sections get lifted several feet into the air. Her red belly exposed to the air, her bent and deformed propeller elevated several feet into the air. This spells the end of the Kamikaze-class destroyer Hidoikaze and her 167 souls perished beneath the waves.

Meanwhile aboard HNLMS Timor

A cheer erupted on the bridge of HNLMS Timor. Commander Kessel, his voice trembling with a mix of relief and exhilaration, addressed the Captain. 

"Kapitein, we've sunk an enemy destroyer!" Captain Marko van Eik, a seasoned captain recently recommissioned due to the war, allowed himself a brief grin.

“Good work. Inform the Alor and the submarine to back off immediately.”

“The survivors sir?”

“Forget about them. I am not risking fighting their reinforcements.”

As the Timor and Alor slipped out from Lemoekoetan island, the cheers died down aboard the Dutch gunboats. Concerning reports on Balikpapan required their immediate attention. The celebrations can be postponed. The HNLMS Timor, Alor, and submarine O18 leave the battle as victors. Whilst the vanquished perished one by one.