22nd April 1942

11°54'01.0"N 83°41'18.4"E,

Bay of Bengal,

Indian Ocean,

05:20:47 AM,

Imperial Japanese Navy.

 

On board the Japanese aircraft carrier, IJN Akagi, Vice Admiral Chūichi Nagumo stood on the top deck looking towards the land in the far distance while the sky above became dark blue, alerting the Admiral that the sun was about to rise in some time. Admiral Nagumo breathed in the fresh morning air of the Bay of Bengal as he once again contemplated the reasons for his and his fleet’s presence so close to what was once called the ‘Jewel of the British Empire’ around a month back.

 

Being a high-ranking officer in the Imperial Japanese Navy, Vice Admiral Nagumo was, of course, aware about the strategic situation in the Indian Ocean. At Least before the so-called ‘Wall of Light’ incidents around India and America, that is.

 

The IJN command had designated the island of Ceylon to be of strategic importance if they wished to gain a stranglehold on the Indian Ocean, not just because it could give the Japanese access to India, but also because Trincomalee was an important harbour and naval base the IJN could then used to conduct operations in the region. Already, their propaganda department had done their work on the Sinhalese population of Ceylon, and they were ready to betray the British imperialists the minute the word was sent from Tokyo.

 

Furthermore, the fall of Singapore on 15 February 1942 was an important step that allowed their armies in Burma to be supplied. While they would have appreciated being able to capture the Andaman and Nicobar Islands as well to further solidify their gains, the ‘Wall of Light’ obviously derailed plans that had been painstakingly prepared. Then, of course, there was the added disappointment that the British warships HMS Prince of Wales and HMS Repulse had managed to evade and escape the air attack they had sent and had only suffered superficial damages. Now the Tokkeitai had reported that they, along with the Royal Navy’s Force Z had already linked up with Force H in the northern corner of the Bay of Bengal defending Chittagong from the so-called Indian Army.

 

Then there was the issue that communications had arrived from Admiral Yamamoto himself, ordering that Operation C was to be delayed. Operation C had been developed to destroy the Royal Navy’s Eastern Fleet and disrupt the British lines of communication and resupply routes from the Middle East to Australia (via India, but again, before the ‘Wall of Light’).

 

This operation was envisioned because the IJA were behaving like the uncouth imps they were and refused to allocate troops to invade Ceylon. When Vice Admiral Nagumo requested for an explanation, he was replied that the new Indian Government wished to hold diplomatic talks with the Emperor’s people, and if concluded positively, would allow the IJN to cover the entire Indian Ocean Region from Australia to the Middle East! Even for Vice Admiral Nagumo, that was a rather better alternative than facing some of the Royal Navy’s best ships.

 

So imagine his surprise, when 14 days ago (two weeks), just a few days after the supposed meeting in Singapore, his new orders were as follows. ‘Breakdown in negotiations. Begin preparations. Operation C is to be commenced. New target. Await further instructions.’ Safe to say, the Vice Admiral was certainly left flummoxed. Nonetheless, he ensured ‌his men were once again ready to set sail when a courier from Imperial General Headquarters arrived carrying confidential instructions that carried the name of his new target and the possible tactics he could use.

 

After a nine-day voyage, they were now at the spot Vice Admiral Nagumo decided was ideal to launch his attack from. Since the original objective of Operation C had changed, he made sure to sail as far away from land as possible once his fleet crossed the Sunda Strait. Deliberately ensuring that he did not go anywhere near to Ceylon.

 

Footsteps behind him alerted the Vice Admiral that his time of quiet contemplation was about to end. The stranger stood a bit away from him, and bowed.

 

“Captain Fuchida.” Vice Admiral Nagumo greeted. “Are your men ready?”

 

“They are, Vice Admiral.” Captain Mitsuo Fuchida answered.

 

Vice Admiral Nagumo once again looked at the man before he turned to look forward again. Captain Fuchida Mitsuo, born on 3 December 1902, entered the Imperial Japanese Naval Academy at Etajima, Hiroshima in 1921 when he discovered an interest in flying. Following graduation in 1924, he quickly rose through the ranks to become a brilliant naval pilot who specialised in horizontal bombing, of which he was made an instructor in 1936. A storied career taking him from the Second Sino-Japanese War all the way to becoming the man leading the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service on the brilliant attack at the American Pacific Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbour, Hawaii on December 7, 1941. Now, he was about to embark on a similar endeavour again.

 

“Are we really going to do this?” Captain Fuchida asked after a brief moment of silence between both men.

“Having second thoughts, Captain?” Vice Admiral Nagumo asked back.

 

“No sir.” Captain Fuchida immediately replied. “I just wondered why don’t we bring the Indians to our side and use them to fight the British?”

 

“Did you not hear?” Vice Admiral Nagumo asked in surprise.

 

“Hear what?” Captain Fuchida asked back this time.

 

“There was a meeting in Singapore.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said. “We offered them generous terms. Including offers to repatriate the Indians soldiers who were fighting under the British. All they had to do was swear allegiance to the Emperor.”

 

“Don’t tell me…” Captain Fuchida started in a shocked whisper.

 

“They outright refused.” Vice Admiral Nagumo finished. “Leading the delegation was our dear Colonel Masanobu Tsuji of the Imperial Army. It went as well as you can imagine.”

 

“Oh no…” Captain Fuchida groaned, and Vice Admiral Nagumo could not help but allow a smirk as he nodded in agreement with Captain Fuchida’s two word assessment.

 

“I don’t know the full details myself, but the Indians claimed that they were from the future, and with them they had even got the Ambassador from this ‘State of Japan’.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said.

 

“The what?” Captain Fuchida asked in confusion.

 

“I don’t know myself.” Vice Admiral Nagumo admitted. “I’m suspecting that there is something more to that, but Imperial Headquarters is being very tight-lipped about it.”

 

“Which then also has something to do with our mission today?” Captain Fuchida asked. Once again he was given a nod from Vice Admiral Nagumo.

 

“The order explicitly states, ‘Teach these renegade Indians a lesson on what happens when they refuse our most generous offer to join our Co-Prosperity Sphere’. It came from the Imperial Headquarters.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said.

 

“That must have been written by someone from the Army.” Captain Fuchida reasoned.

 

“Maybe.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said. “Or some dumb recruit from the countryside who just happens to be in the Navy. I have no way to confirm it.”

 

“What did Admiral Yamamoto say?” Captain Fuchida then asked.

 

“I have not been able to get a hold of the Yamato.” Vice Admiral Nagumo answered. “But his signature is on the order.”

“Then we have no choice.” Captain Fuchida concluded.

 

“As much as I find the officers of the Army distasteful, I will agree with one thing.” Vice Admiral Nagumo started.

“What would that be, Vice Admiral?” Captain Fuchida asked.

 

“They should have joined us when we asked nicely.” Vice Admiral Nagumo declared.

 

“I see…” Captain Fuchida replied.

 

“What’s the time?” Vice Admiral Nagumo asked as he looked up to the sky.

 

“It’s about to be 5:30 in the morning.” Captain Fuchida said after looking at his wristwatch.

 

“What time is the sun supposed to rise again?” Vice Admiral Nagumo asked again.

 

“I believe somewhere around 6:50, sir.” Captain Fuchida dutifully replied.

 

“An hour and twenty minutes then… Very well.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said as he turned and began walking back towards the bridge, Captain Fuchida fell in step behind him. “Have your men ready to fly out. Our attack on Madras will coincide just as the sun’s first rays will hit the city.”

 

“Yes sir!” Captain Fuchida shouted as he saluted, before turning to address his men in the Akagi and the other carriers.

[-Linebreak-]

22nd April 1942

Residence of the Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief,

Eastern Naval Command,

Visakhapatnam,

Andhra Pradesh,

Republic of India,

03:29:45,

Indian Navy.

 

The sudden ringing of the bedroom telephone disturbed the sleeping couple on the bed. As the telephone constantly kept on ringing, the woman blearily woke up, got out of the bed, and picked up the horn. A few moments later, she woke up her husband, Vice Admiral Vijay Kapadia.

 

“Who is it?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked as he pulled the bed sheets to cover his eyes from the lights his wife had switched on. “What time is it?”

 

“It's someone called Commander Tiger Khan. He says he’s from Vigilance (AN: Basically Internal Affairs).” Mrs. Kapadia answered. “3:30 AM.”

 

Once the information sank in a few moments later, Vice Admiral Kapadia immediately got up and took the phone from his wife.

 

“Khan.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said as he put the receiver in his ear.

 

“Vice Admiral, sir. We have a situation.” Commander Khan informed.

 

“Urgent enough to call me at 3:30 in the morning?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked.

 

“Yes, sir.” Commander Khan answered. “Something is wrong sir. We’re getting strange readings from our radar here and Andaman.”

 

“Is the radar still patchy?”

 

“It still is, sir.” Commander Khan informed. “That’s why I’m calling right now.”

 

“Alright. I’ll be there within the hour.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said after he mulled over the information for a few moments. “Send a car for me.”

 

“I’ll have a car from the Navy Police pick you up.” Commander Khan said. “Will that work?”

 

“That’ll do.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said as he cut the call.

 

“You have to go?” Mrs. Kapadia asked. Her husband nodded as he massaged his throbbing head.

 

“Freshen up then. I’ll make you a cup of tea and some light food so your head doesn’t hurt.” Mrs. Kapadia said as she left the bedroom.

 

“Thank you.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said as he got up from the bed and went to the washroom.

 

An hour later, Vice Admiral Kapadia, now dressed in a simple white shirt and black trousers and an Indian Navy baseball cap, made his way inside the situation room at Eastern Naval Command Headquarters, making everybody greet him by standing up at attention.

 

“Alright, now what the hell is happening?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked as he got to a higher platform that gave him a full view of the room.

 

“Sir, Andaman Radar Station reported an anomaly almost four hours ago in their reading of the Bay of Bengal Area. We checked our own radar and we’re getting the same thing.” A radar officer reported.

 

“I called up the National Institute of Oceanography.” Commander Tiger Khan, from the Directorate of Naval Intelligence, said as he passed a clipboard to the Vice Admiral. “They say that the readings from their still operable tsunami buoys are similar to a massive amount of ships.”

 

“When did they first catch this?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked as he skimmed through the report the NIO had sent.

“Around nine hours back.” Commander Khan said. “They did not think much of it because it was intermittent at the still operating buoys. But they got worried when it looked like it was getting closer. Their suspicion that something is wrong was confirmed when we called.”

 

“What free assets do we have right now?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked as he handed the clipboard back to Commander Khan. “I’m talking surface, sub-surface, and air assets. Even a fishing vessel will work.”

 

“All of our surface fleets are currently engaged, sir.” One officer reported. “Most of them are currently in a standoff with the Royal Navy’s Force H and Z near Chittagong.”

 

“The remainder are hunting stray Axis submarines that evaded the Arabian Sea patrols south of Sri Lanka.”

 

“The one P-8 Poseidon we have in the South has just landed for R&R and ground refuelling. They have already been up in the air for two days now.”

 

“Our MQ-9 Sea Guardians are engaged at either the Northern Arabian Sea or Northern Bay of Bengal.”

“AWACS Sea Dragon has already begun landing procedures at Bangalore.”

 

“Sir!” One of the officers called. “We had the INS Vikrant and her Carrier Strike Group making their way to the Bay of Bengal to fill some radar gaps.”

 

“Where are they now?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked.

 

“They were directed to escort Vice Admiral James Somerville’s ship, HMS Warspite and her fleet who are making their way towards Forces H and Z.” the officer said. “It will take them a few hours to even circle Sri Lanka.”

 

“Sir, the only free assets we have belong to the Coast Guard.” Commander Khan said.

 

“The fact you are telling me this means they’re not playing ball then.” Vice Admiral Kapadia deduced.

 

“They’re coming up with bullshit excuses sir.” Commander Khan said.

 

“Don’t bother talking to some lower level babu who’s on the night shift. They always behave like that.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said. “Get me the Coast Guard Inspector General of the Eastern Region.”

 

After half an hour of going through multiple hoops, Vice Admiral Kapadia finally got the phone number of the Coast Guard Inspector General of the Eastern Region’s private residence. At this point, the Vice Admiral had reached the end of his patience with the Coast Guard, and when the phone was picked up, was just about to give the man a piece of his mind, when the voice from the other side said, “Hyewwo.”

 

“Um… Hello?” Vice Admiral Kapadia unsuredly broached.

 

“Yes. Hyewwo. Who’s this?” A child’s voice asked.

 

“I wished to have to talk to Inspector General Kalpesh Singhania.” Vice Admiral Kapadia said, as nicely as he could when he recognised it was a child. “This is his number, right?”

 

“You want to talk to gwandpa?” The child asked.

 

“Yes. I wish to speak to your grandfather.” Admiral Kapadia said. “Please tell him that it is Admiral Kapadia from the Navy. He’ll understand.”

 

“Okay!” And the Vice Admiral could only hear some steps becoming fainter.

 

He had to wait for ten more minutes, the time now reaching 5:10 AM when the man the Vice Admiral was looking for spoke on the phone.

 

“This is a very odd time for you to be calling, Admiral.” Coast Guard Inspector General Kalpesh Singhania complained as he picked up the phone.

 

“Nice to know you have been having a good night’s sleep.” Vice Admiral Kapadia gritted out.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” IG Singhania asked in confusion.

 

“Because there are unidentified objects in the sea, in your jurisdiction, and we have nothing to find out what it is!” Vice Admiral Kapadia hotly replied.

 

“The only ones who do, are you lot! So get to work and earn your salary! I want a Dornier in the air as soon as possible. If I don’t get a report within the hour I will call again! Make sure it's not your grandchild picking up the phone!” With that, Vice Admiral Kapadia slammed the receiver back to its place.

 

“Khan.” Vice Admiral Kapadia called.

 

“Sir.” Commander Khan said.

 

“How the hell is it possible that we have absolutely nothing?” Vice Admiral Kapadia asked.

 

“We do have Offshore Patrol Vessels and Patrol Vessels. But not for going out there to check the problem out. We need air patrol for that.” Commander Khan replied. “I just need your approval to pull the patrol vessels close to all important coastal towns and cities and put them on alert.”

 

“Hmm… Alright. Do it.” Vice Admiral Kapadia approved. “Also, alert the Americans and the Australians. Make sure they know that something is wrong and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

 

“Aye Sir.” Khan replied.

 

“I’ll be in my office. I missed my medicines again. Let me know if anything happens.” Vice Admiral Kapadia ordered.

“Aye sir.” Commander Khan replied. “Ah. Constable Naik has also got your uniform from your house.”

 

“Oh, right that.” Vice Admiral Kapadia remembered. “Where is he?”

 

“At the front entrance.” Commander Khan said.

 

“I’ll take that first, then.” Vice Admiral Kapadia decided as he stifled a yawn. “I’ll tell the Constable to return his post as well. Khan, you keep your eyes on this.”

 

“Aye sir.”

 

[-Linebreak-]

 

22nd April 1942

Coast Guard Air Station,

Eastern Region (E),

Chennai,

Tamil Nadu,

Republic of India,

05:40:15,

Indian Coast Guard.

 

“Chennai Air Traffic, this is Coast Guard flight DN-459, requesting permission to taxi.” Assistant Commandant Sudharam Goel asked in his Indian Coast Guard Dornier 228.

 

“Roger Coast Guard flight DN-459. You have permission to begin taxi.” A controller from Chennai Air Traffic Control said.

 

“Proceed to primary runway 2-5.”

 

“Copy on your last.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel said as he began taxiing towards the runway. Ever since the ‘Wall of Light’, and the fact that they teleported right in the middle of World War Two, meant that international commercial air operations in the country had been suspended indefinitely, while only domestic air operations were operating but at a much lower capacity than normal. Only military planes now flew the sky with almost impunity.

 

Ast. Cmdt. Goel mentally cursed the odd time as he waited for permission to line up for takeoff. He was used to night operations, but he held a personal distaste for carrying out emergency operations just when the sun was about to rise.

“Coast Guard flight DN-459, you have permission to line up and take off.” Chennai ATC informed.

 

“Understood Chennai Air Traffic. Lining up to take off.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel said as he lined up. Once he was in position, he slowly pushed the throttle, allowing his Dornier to pick up speed. Ast. Cmdt. Goel kept one eye on the speedometer, and the second it passed 60 knots, he pulled on the control stick, smoothly taking off from the airport.

 

“Coast Guard flight DN-459, adjust bearing to 1-5-8.” Chennai ATC said. “Then gain Angel’s-8.”

 

“Copy.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel said as he turned his plane around, before beginning to climb up to 8000 feet for his radar systems to work properly.

 

By the time he reached his required altitude, Ast. Cmdt. Goel’s aircraft was already crossing the beach of Chennai. “Coast Guard flight DN-459. Changing station to Coast Guard Frequency.”

 

“Copy that.” Chennai ATC said. “Have a safe flight.”

 

“Chennai Coast Guard Air Control, this is Coast Guard flight DN-459, maintaining at Angel’s 8, heading bearing at 1-5-8.”

“Roger DN-459. I can see you.” Chennai Coast Guard ATC replied. “Maintain current heading and altitude for now.”

 

“Copy.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel replied with, as he sat back and got as comfortable as he could in his seat.

 

After fifteen minutes, he got new instructions. “Coast Guard flight DN-459, change bearing to 1-8-0.”

 

“Coast Guard flight DN-459, changing bearing to 1-8-0.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel said as kept an eye on his radar for anything that stood out.

 

After twenty minutes of flying, he got unknown contacts on his radar. Immediately, Ast. Cmdt. Goel contacted Chennai Coast Guard ATC. “Chennai Coast Guard Control, reporting six unknown contacts, distance 3-7-0 clicks.”

 

“Copy Coast Guard flight DN-459.” Chennai Coast Guard ATC said in reply. “Be careful.”

 

“Always am.” Ast. Cmdt. Goel said with a smirk. His smirk quickly turned down when he got five more contacts on his radar. He reported the same to the Chennai Coast Guard ATC.

 

“Roger Coast Guard flight DN-459, we have No. 222, No. 18 and No. 45 IAF on standby.” Chennai Coast Guard ATC informed. Ast. Cmdt. Goel was relieved that at least he would have back up in the form of Tejas’ and Sukhoi-30s.

 

As he closed in at the radar contacts, he noticed with growing trepidation as the contacts kept on becoming bigger on his screen. Once they were 40 kilometres away, Ast. Cmdt. Goel immediately switched on his infra-red camera. He was sure his heart was about to jump out of his throat when he saw the image.

 

There were eleven naval vessels. Five of which, Ast. Cmdt. Goel was sure, were aircraft carriers. There were four other vessels that looked like floating fortresses, and two more smaller ships. He made sure to keep his camera on the fleet before he turned around when he was just 10 kilometres away. He prayed that the jets he saw on the carrier deck would not come for him.

 

Unfortunately for Assistant Commandant Goel, life was not fair. Almost immediately, he clocked two jets at his rear. In fear, Ast. Cmdt. Bhoi pushed the throttle of his Dornier 228 to its maximum limit in a bid to outrun them. Much to his horror, the jets maintained their speed.

 

At that moment, Chennai Coast Guard ATC contacted him. “Coast Guard flight DN-459, we have noticed your change in bearing and increased speed. What’s wrong?”

 

“Send everything we got! There is a goddamn fleet out there of bloody battleships and aircraft carriers!” Ast. Cmdt. Goel yelled in fear. Suddenly, he could hear something that sounded like a gatling gun, and multiple systems in the cockpit reported that he had taken damage.

 

“Sorry, DN-459, I didn't get your last, can you repeat?” Chennai Coast Guard ATC asked.

 

“I’m taking fire! I repeat, I’m taking fire! Send everything we got!” Ast. Cmdt. Goel shouted as he tried some manoeuvres to shake off the jets behind him, but they kept on taking pot shots.

 

“Say again?” Chennai Coast Guard ATC asked.

“Goddamit! I said there is a bloody fleet out there! Five carriers, four batt—”

 

[-Linebreak-]

 

22nd April 1942

Chennai,

Tamil Nadu,

Republic of India,

06:30:25,

United States Marine Corps.

 

For the city of Chennai, they were waking up to another normal weekday, even if it was a somewhat new normal. Following the ‘Wall of Light’ incident, the city had gone through a range of emotions from panic, apathy, and even grief, but soon, the city slowly returned to normalcy.

 

For the people of Chennai, it was a normal Wednesday morning. Traffic started piling on the roads, adults were going to work, shops were opening, children were filling up in school buses to go to school and politicians were getting up from their beds to a new day of scamming people. For the people of Chennai, today was business as usual and the ongoing war outside their city, had nothing to do with them.

 

The nearest conflict zone was 1500 kilometres (932 miles) away, and from what the news have been reporting (with visual proof), the Indian Army has been steamrolling the British Raj forces. Sure, there might still be some risks in North India, but there was nothing they had to worry about.

 

Another group of individuals who were enjoying the new day was Sergeant Marcus James, one of the many US Marines (from 2025) who had been granted shore leave. Due to the current situation at hand, all the US Navy LHDs from the exercise had been docked in various naval bases in India. The ship he was stationed in, the USS Bataan, had docked in Chennai and were now ‘long-term guests of the Indian Navy’.

 

It’s not like they could just up and leave the safety of the Indian waters to go back to the United States, what with all the Axis submarines covering almost every ocean in the world. Last thing they wanted was to be blown up somewhere far away from support or rescue. Then there was also the fact that the USS Gerald R. Ford and her carrier group were busy in either aiding the Indians in covering gaps in their naval at the Arabian Sea, hunting Axis submarines or ensuring that the Indian Navy and 1942 Royal Navy didn’t blow each other to pieces up at Bengal.

 

Currently, Sergeant James and two members of his squad, Corporal Riley Harris and Private Ronald Woods were sitting at a small restaurant some ways away from the port of Chennai. By this point, the people of Chennai had grown accustomed to the presence of US Marines in their city, nonetheless, wherever they went, people still stared at them, especially when they wore T-shirts that explicitly said ‘US Marine Corps USS BATAAN’, as they were technically still on duty, just been granted shore leave. Sergeant James had got the two with them to have one the famous South Indian dish of Dosa for breakfast, and while the two with them kicked up a fuss like petulant children, they still came along, especially when they heard that their superior was paying.

 

Now, as they waited for their food, Sergeant James was reading the Times of India newspaper, mainly the special section the newspaper had started dealing with the Second World War, seemingly educating people about this global conflict and a section that was talking about the Indian advance in former Pakistan and Bengal which had now halted because the Indian Army had achieved all their tactical objectives and had called for a ceasefire. Corporal Harris was also reading the newspaper, but she was reading the celebrity gossip one, and Private Woods was on his phone, playing a game.

 

“Woods, you didn’t order any ‘exotic’ drinks, did you?” Sergeant Burns asked, seemingly remembering the previous time they were outside the port.

 

“Sarge, I said it before, I’ll say it again, I did not know Toddy was an alcoholic drink!” Private Woods hotly defended himself. “It looked like coconut milk for crying out loud! How was I supposed to know that chick was spiking my drink and do God knows what with me.”

 

“Let’s see.” Corporal Harris said as she put down her newspaper. “She would probably take you to a hotel room, have you blow her back out, probably without condoms, and nine months later, a stork would deliver a cute Indian-American baby.”

 

“By that time, poor Private Woods would definitely be harrangued by the family, and very barely escape JAG if he agreed to get married and take her to the States.” Sergeant James added.

 

“Exactly! Scary shit sarge!” Private Woods said before adding with a shudder. “My own dad would kill me if something like that happened.”

 

“One Full South Indian Breakfast!” A waiter called as he approached the table the three Marines were occupying and began arranging the plates.

 

“Okay that’s a lot.” Corporal Harris commented when she saw the size of the dosa. “Sarge, we went for the Masala dosa, right?”

 

“Yep.” Sergeant Burns said. “That off-duty Indian Navy Marine Commando I met at the mess suggested going for that.”

 

“Woody, it's a good thing we didn’t listen to you saying everybody buys one!” Corporal Harris said to the Private who was also helping in rearranging the plates to make space.

 

“Yes ma.” Private Woods quietly muttered, much to Sergeant James’ amusement, and Corporal Harris’ chagrin, making her kick him below the table.

 

“Three equal portions?” The waiter asked.

 

“If you would be so kind.” Corporal Harris replied, flashing a smile.

 

Immediately, the waiter got to work, and cut the dosa in three equal portions, putting them on everyone’s plates, before taking a bowl and pouring the Sambar, followed by two spoonfuls of different chutneys.

 

“Thank you.” Sergeant James said to the waiter.

 

“You gonna say grace, Sarge?” Private Woods asked.

 

“One, that’s when the entire squad’s together. Two, it's for praying that the MREs taste better. Three, we’re in a restaurant. They’ll stare at us even more.” Sergeant James replied. “Oh and four, the food will get cold in the time we spend doing grace. Apparently, you enjoy Dosa when it's hot.”

 

“With our hands?” Corporal Harris asked.

 

“Go on, Corporal, I dare you to try using a fork and knife and not make a mess.” Sergeant James said.

 

“When in Rome…” Private Woods added.

 

“We’re not in Rome. We’re in India.” Corporal Harris retorted.

 

“Then do as the Indians do.” Sergeant James said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Fine.” Corporal Harris relented.

 

As the three Marines continued eating their breakfast, the small flatscreen in the corner was playing the news. When he saw that, he asked the guy on the counter if he could increase the volume.

 

On the TV, a debate was taking place between two individuals. The first gentleman was apparently saying why the current actions of the Indian Government are correct by going for a ceasefire with the British, inviting Winston Churchill to the country to sign a peace agreement and refusing the Japanese offer to join the Co-Prosperity Sphere

Meanwhile, the second person was seemingly on an anti-Allied and Pro-Japanese stance, maintaining that the Indian Government should have decided to talk to the Japanese again, with more favourable terms, and that India owed no duty to support the British Campaign in Burma.

 

Considering how explosive it was getting, the three Marines were now glued to the TV.

 

The person who was Pro-Allied had raised many points that made complete sense, such as the fact that the Japanese in their so-called anti European Colonialism Policy were just replacing all Western institutions in South East Asia with their own and were exploiting the local people much worse than whatever the Europeans did, and also the fact that what they wanted was India, was just a satellite state. He also referred to the recording of the Singapore Summit the Government of India had released. There, Colonel Masanobu Tsuji of the Imperial Japanese Army’s threat (some call it promise) to eradicate the Indian populace just like what he did to the Chinese and that he would ensure that all Indians in Japan would be executed was once again broadcasted for the nation to see.

 

To that, the man who was advocating for hawkish intentions towards the British merely replied by saying that clearly the Indian Government should have come up with some better solutions and should have diffused the situation amicably. He attempted to remind the viewers that for their 1940s, the Japanese were willing to help the Indians gain their independence from the British. He was rebutted by the point that India would have back then been only replacing one colonial master for another.

 

The man who was Pro-Allied reminded the good relations independent India had with Britain and also added the fact that before the ‘Wall of Light’ incident, no one would hesitate going to work or study in the UK if they ever got the chance to, so why the sudden hate for Britain. He was countered by the fact that even until 2025, the British never apologised for the Jallianwallah Bagh Massacre.

 

“This kinda looks like a tennis match.” Corporal Harris commented.

 

“I would probably watch the news more if CNN or Fox could get that entertaining.” Sergeant James agreed.

 

“Hey, look at the ticker.” Private Woods pointed out. “Coast Guard reports they have lost contact with a Dornier 228, which had been on a patrol mission in the early hours of morning.”

 

“Probably an accident.” Sergeant James said. “They might have already dispatched Search and Rescue.”

 

Meanwhile, the Pro-Japanese commentator added that it was the Japanese who had provided training and the equipment to the Indian National Army. Once again, he countered that the number of Indian soldiers who had actually fought under the INA banner were small, compared to the numbers of the British Indian Army. Furthermore, most of them were Indian expats who were living in Japan, and were abandoned and left to fend for themselves by the Japanese following the Allies’ victories during the Burma Campaign.

 

The Pro-Allied commentator also mentioned that the soldiers of the British Indian Army were loyal to their commanders, and many refused to join the INA. In return they were horribly tortured by the Japanese, and even forced them to cannablism.

The pro-Japanese commentator then hotly responded with the assertion that Winston Churchill and the British were solely responsible for the 1943 Bengal Famine, to which the pro-Allied Commentator reminded him that the Indian Government was working with the West Bengal State Government and the Indian Army to provide food rations across East Bengal for the sole purpose to avert the famine.

 

The Pro-Japanese commentator then accused the Pro-Allied commentator for defaming the sacrifices of the INA soldiers not only comprising of POWs but also willing Indian volunteers from the civilian population in the regions of Singapore and Malaya who stood up to the call of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose to fight for India’s Independence from the colonial yoke, not to forget the expats who were in Japan were also doing their part for the India’s Independence forming the Indian Independence League which was based in Tokyo, Japan.

 

The Pro-Allied commentator acknowledged the contributions of the Indian Revolutionary expats doing their part abroad in general, and the INA in particular of the important role they played by stalling the First Arakan Offensive of the British Indian Army and by providing crucial and successful role in diversionary attacks in the Arakan and in the Manipur Basin itself during the U-Go Offensive, where they fought alongside the IJA’s 15th Army.

 

The British Commentator reminded that the main reason the INA did not get their desired support from India itself, was because the gag order on Bose and the INA issued by the British Indian Government notwithstanding, the Forward Bloc Party had been crushed by the Indian National Congress and the Intelligence Bureau of the British Raj.

 

The Pro-Japanese commentator also mentioned that the men of the INA never got the recognition from the Indian government they should have been given despite the fact they were one of the important catalysts for the nation’s independence. The Pro-Japanese commentator also went so far as to suggest that it might have been because of people like the Pro-British commentator such was the case. The look of offence on the man’s face was almost meme-worthy.

 

The Pro-Allied commentator responded by first once again acknowledging the efforts of the INA in achieving their ideological goal, that was, an independent India. The Red Fort Trials, and the mutinies that had occurred in the wake of it, had sent the necessary message to the British Indian Government that they could no longer rely on the military and thus the road to independence was set in stone.

 

Secondly, the Pro-Allied commentator rebuked his fellow panellist for slander against his person because he was only an author and researcher who had spent a considerable part of his career studying the Pacific, South-East Asia and Burma Campaign of the Second World War, and had no ties to any educational institute or the Government of India and thus did not decide on policy of the recognition of INA veterans.

 

Finally, the Pro-Allied commentator also added that he did not defame the INA. He just disagreed with their methods, and more importantly, with whom they allied themselves with, mainly the Empire of Japan, whose acts of atrocity were far worse and savage than even their European counterparts in Germany. For case in point, he requested the host of the show to replay the clip of the Singapore Summit.

 

“Ah, that was hilarious!” Private Woods said once they finished the rest of their breakfast and began making their way to the Port in their vehicle.

 

“It still makes me wonder why there are many Indians who think that the Axis were good guys.” Corporal Riley wondered.

 

“Go to Discord or YouTube comments on 4th July, and I can assure you, Americans and British behave the same way.” Private Woods said. “Admittedly, it's more in light humour.”

 

As the three marines took the highway overlooking the port, Private Woods looked towards it. A few feet away from the port, he could see the USS Bataan, along with one Offshore Patrol Vessel, INS Sumitra, and two other patrol vessels in the form of INS Car Nicobar and INS Chetlat.

 

Suddenly, klaxons were heard from the port’s direction.

 

“The hell’s going on?” Woods asked.

 

“An air raid drill?” Corporal Riley wondered as they saw the Indian vessels slowly moving out of the port. “Yo, what's that in the distance?” Corporal Riley asked, pointing to the distance.

 

Private Woods looked to where she was pointing and squinted his eyes. Right in front of the rising sun, he could make out some kind of shapes. After blinking a few times to adjust his eyes, he could make out shapes that suspiciously looked like aircraft.

 

As if right on cue, the naval guns from the INS Sumitra began to fire towards the mass. The fast attack vessels began firing their 30 mm auto-cannons.

 

“Ayyo, what on earth?!” Corporal Riley asked in shock.

 

“Are those the Brits?! Please don’t tell me that’s the Brits!” Private Woods loudly prayed.

 

“Hey look! Something just dropped off one of them.” Corporal Riley said.

 

“I don’t think that’s something.” Private Woods said, before he realised what they are. “Oh shit! Those are bombs!”

 

At that moment, the CIWS from the USS Bataan and the INS Sumitra began firing up the sky with tracer rounds.

 

This allowed one of the Japanese aircraft to come in the path of a SAM missile that had been launched from a MANPAD being operated by a sailor from the INS Car Nicobar. The struck plane limped ahead, away from the rest of its group and across the highway, before it crashed and burst into flames.

 

“I am one hundred percent sure I saw a meatball painted on that thing!” Corporal Riley exclaimed.

 

Another fighter, which got its wing clipped off by a CIWS, crashed a bit ahead, but the Marines could now clearly see what was on the wreckage of the burning plane.

 

“Oh shit! These are Japs!” Private Woods yelled in horror as Sergeant James manoeuvred the car across the wreckage and started speeding.

 

“Sarge, isn’t that the roundel of the Imperial Japanese Air Force?!” Corporal Riley asked Sergeant James. “What the fuck are they doing?! And what the fuck are they riding?!”

 

“GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT, I DON’T KNOW!” Sergeant James yelled as he slowly increased the car’s speed while looking as much as he could towards the port.

 

At that moment, a massive explosion rang out, and much to the horror of the three marines, massive plumes of smoke started rising from the port side of the USS Bataan., but for those three marines, this was their home, and it was under attack.

 

Immediately, Sergeant James hit the pedal to the metal, without caring about the speed limit, hoping to reach the quarters the US Marines had been assigned as soon as possible.

 

The ship was in flames, but it's guns were still firing at the ones responsible, with it even firing two RIM-116 Rolling Airframe Missiles.

 

“What the fuck just happened?!” Private Woods yelled out in shock.

 

“The Japs are attacking us and the Indians!” Corporal Riley replied with tears beginning to fall from her eyes as another explosion ripped through the USS Bataan and they could clearly see the ship beginning to list towards the port side.

 

“Why the fuck are they attacking the Indians?!” Private Woods shrieked. “And did they hit the Bataan because of the US Navy markings on it?”

 

Meanwhile, INS Sumitra sailed out with its gun blazing all around, trying to swat any Japanese plane that dared to come close for a strafing run. Yet, it remained almost half a ship’s length away from the USS Bataan, hoping to start rescue operations once the planes were dealt with. On the other hand, the smaller patrol vessels continued engaging with their guns and the MANPADs, using its speed as an advantage. The crews of those boats also began firing from the HMGs fitted on the boats by aiming them towards the sky as they tried to hit the jets.

 

“Shit!” Sergeant James gritted out as he made a sharp bend on the highway. “I don’t know what the fuck those planes are! They ain’t Zeroes that hit Pearl, that’s for sure. What I wanna know how the fuck did they get so deep in Indian waters and what are they doing here.”

 

“What do you think is the status of the other Marines?” Private Woods asked as he slowly calmed down.

 

“Don’t know. We’re gonna check that out.” Sergeant James said as they pulled up in front of the port gate which was in a state of complete chaos. Civilian workers were already fleeing as parts of the port were being bombed. Heavy gun fire could be heard, and tracer rounds were filling up the sky. It was insanity. “Fuck! Move out of the way, godammit! Our ship was just blown up!” He blew the car’s horn, but the crowd did not part.

 

Sergeant James decided to leave the car. “Riley, Woody, dismount! We're legging it from here! We’re gonna treat these Japs a goddamn lesson! They don’t get to fuck with our home like that!”

 

“Oo-rah, Sergeant!”

 

The three Marines ran inside, moving past the running mass of people who were fleeing from the scene, when they came upon a shot up SUV with several Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) personnel lying dead inside or near it. James knelt down and picked up a discarded INSAS rifle and two mags from the pouches on the dead cop.

 

“Sorry buddy, you wouldn’t be needing this anymore.” Sergeant James said before he stood up. He turned to look that Corporal Riley and Private Woods had also armed themselves.

 

“Riley, check if that car’s working.” Sergeant James ordered, pointing to another abandoned SUV.

 

“I’ll need to hotwire it.” Corporal Riley said as she used the butt of the INSAS Rifle to smash the window open and unlock the door.

 

“I don’t care!” Sergeant James responded.

 

“Okay, give me a second.” Corporal Riley said as she tore open a panel below the steering wheel and spent a few moments hotwiring the car. Half a minute later, the car’s engine came to life.

 

“Get in, boss, I’ll drive.” Corporal Riley said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. Sergeant James and Private Woods got into the backseat, while Corporal Riley put her rifle at the passenger seat.

 

Seeing that the path ahead was clear, Corporal Riley floored the accelerator towards the Indian Navy barracks the US Marines had been given.

 

Meanwhile, in the sky, there were still many Japanese fighters and bombers who had passed through unmolested and were now heading towards the city proper.

 

[-Linebreak-]

 

22nd April 1942

HMS Warspite,

7°07'32.2"N 82°33'55.5"E,

Bay of Bengal,

Indian Ocean,

07:00:35 AM,

Royal Navy.

 

Vice Admiral James Somerville, Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Navy’s Eastern Fleet, stood at the bow of his flagship, the HMS Warspite, clutching the protective railing as he looked on to the sea in front of him. The Vice Admiral was currently making his way to the North-Eastern corner of the Bay of Bengal to rendezvous with the Royal Navy’s Forces H and Z.

 

Not for the first time in this journey, he wondered what the hell was going on. After the confrontation the HMS Formidable had with the Indian Rebellion’s (‘Not a rebellion, from the future apparently’ Somerville reminded himself) Carrier back on 26th March, the Australians (‘also apparently from the future’) intervened and requested to use the US Navy’s carrier that was a few dozen nautical miles away, off the coast of Cochin, as a neutral ground for discussions between the Formidable’s XO and the commander of the Indian Aircraft Carrier, the INS Vikramaditya.

 

Instead, the Formidable’s XO deferred the decision to do so to him while informing him of the situation. Vice Admiral Somerville, who had briefly returned to Eastern Fleet Headquarters at Kilindini, Kenya during the ‘Wall of Light’ incident, and its subsequent effects, quickly made way to the Arabian Sea post haste to make contact with the HMS Formidable, which had then been close to the Seychelles, before he met with the Indian Navy and the Royal Australian Navy at 15th April.

 

The Australians had sent an inflatable speed boat that picked him and three more handpicked officers from the Warspite, and took them to their destroyer. From there they got into an MH-60R Seahawk helicopter of the Royal Australian Navy. He wouldn’t lie. He did find the experience to be rather thrilling. As they approached the US Navy’s aircraft carrier, the USS Gerald R. Ford, he was shocked when he saw the size of that ship and the type of aircraft it was carrying. That’s when the seeds of doubt started being planted into the mind that maybe the Indians were not lying.

 

As the Australian Seahawk lifted off the deck of the Ford to return to the Royal Australian Navy destroyer, Vice Admiral Somerville was briefly introduced to the Commanding Officer of the American carrier. That’s when the HAL Dhruv helicopter carried his supposed counterpart from the supposed Indian Navy, Vice Admiral K. S. Nanda, the supposed Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief Western Command of the Indian Navy, landed on the deck of the Ford.

 

While the introductions took place, Vice Admiral Somerville observed the man he had talked to. The man’s bearing, uniform, and the aura he gave out, had allowed Vice Admiral Somerville to conclude that the XO of the Formidable had been talking to an experienced sailor, not some random brigand with a big ship. That once again made him think.

 

As Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Fleet, he was aware of all the high-ranking officers of the Royal Indian Navy, and yet he had never heard of a man called Nanda. Nonetheless, it was clear to him that the Vice Admiral was an experienced mariner capable of commanding an Aircraft Carrier, at least from what he could decipher when he overheard the conversation between Vice Admiral Nanda and his American counterpart.

 

The discussion between all parties was civil (Of course it would be, they were men of the sea), but the tension between him and Vice Admiral Nanda was thick enough to cut with a hot knife. While he was slowly becoming surer of the fact that their story of being from the future was true, as an officer of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, he would not let go of the fact that ultimately, it was the Indians who initiated hostilities when they attacked East Bengal and the region that they called Pakistan. He made sure that the Indian Vice Admiral knew his thoughts.

“A valid criticism, no doubt of it, Vice Admiral.” Vice Admiral Nanda said as he took a sip from the glass of water he was given. “But whatever my criticism of this course of action is, I will still carry out my duty.”

 

“You hide behind your orders and use that as an excuse, then?” Vice Admiral Somerville asked.

 

“No sir.” Vice Admiral Nanda replied. “If I truly found the orders to be to my distaste, I would have tendered in my resignation citing refusal to carry out the order as my reasoning.”

 

“So you agree with your orders, then?” Vice Admiral Somerville asked as he narrowed his eyes.

 

“I agree with the principle of the fact that unfortunately, the nation that would be born there would consider India to be an existential threat, and would constantly use non-state actors to commit horrific acts of terrorism, all in the veil of religion, as an excuse. That, or being a puppet to a nation that never had good intentions towards us, or the entire Indo-Pacific Region in general.” Vice Admiral Nanda said before he tilted his head to Vice Admiral Henry Harris, commanding officer of the USS Gerald R. Ford. “Vice Admiral Harris knows what I mean by that.”

 

“Unfortunately, he’s right.” Vice Admiral Harris said. Vice Admiral Somerville knew a key element was missing from the answer. Something that would give it better weight. “The United States Government does not agree with the course of action the Government of India has taken, and they have already issued a formal diplomatic protest. However, let’s just say… the preceding actions of Pakistan spoke for itself.”

 

As far as Vice Admiral Somerville was concerned, that was bullshit reasoning. But now that he had confirmed that these Indians were indeed from the future, free from the British Crown since 15 August 1947, and fully cutting ties by becoming a republic on 26 January 1950, he was at an impasse. When Vice Admiral Harris suggested that they work together on hunting Axis submarines in the Arabian Sea, Vice Admiral Somerville could not help but agree. Especially when he wrangled a guarantee from Vice Admiral Nanda that the Indian Navy would protect Allied merchant shipping that would now directly go to Australia. Nonetheless, Vice Admiral Somerville still wished to confirm the status of the British defenders of Chittagong. Once again, he made his intentions known to Vice Admiral Nanda.

 

“Sure thing.” Vice Admiral Nanda agreed with a shrug, before he bluntly added, “But I refuse to allow you to go without any supervision.”

“Excuse me?” Vice Admiral Somerville asked in surprise, appalled at the man’s audacity to speak to him in such a way. The last time someone spoke to him with such words were his parents, and that was before he joined the Royal Navy.

 

“Until proven otherwise, I will treat you and your intentions as unknown. I don’t trust unknowns.” Vice Admiral Nanda stated. “If you wish to go to Chittagong, I will allow it, but not without any supervision.”

 

“You have my word, Vice Admiral, as an officer of the Royal Navy, I shall not commit any action that will besmirch my name, my men or the Crown.” Vice Admiral Somerville responded with pride lacing his voice. “You have my word not only as a Royal Navy officer but also as a gentleman.”

 

“I wish I could say your word is enough, Vice Admiral Somerville. Rest assured, I will not throw any slander against your name or your organisation. Fact of the matter is, as of right now, I just do not trust you.” Vice Admiral Nanda said with a tone of finality that Vice Admiral Somerville recognised well.

 

“So be it.” Vice Admiral Somerville relented. “May I ask what you have in mind?”

 

“Off the coast of Sri Lanka, or as you call Ceylon, the INS Vikrant and her Carrier Strike Group are operating. I believe they are about to embark towards the Bay of Bengal themselves. I will request the Commander of that ship to shadow your fleet from a comfortable distance.” Vice Admiral Nanda informed.

 

“Very well. If that is how it will be.” Vice Admiral Somerville said as he made to stand up, the other two followed his action.

“It is not my intention to demean or insult you, Vice Admiral Somerville. If you felt that for even a second at our meeting today, I apologise.” Vice Admiral Nanda said. “But as an officer of the Indian Navy, I have a job to do, and I will do it to the best of my capabilities. I would expect you to do the same if our position was reversed.”

 

“Good afternoon, Vice Admiral Nanda.” Vice Admiral Somerville said before he left the room they had used for their impromptu meeting. “I hope I will have a chance to work with you in the future.”

 

Back to the present, Vice Admiral Somerville was approached by the XO of the Warspite, Captain G.N. Oliver.

“Good morning Captain.” Vice Admiral Somerville said.

 

“Good morning, sir.” Captain Oliver replied and handed him a bunch of papers. “Your daily brief.”

 

“Thank you.” Vice Admiral Somerville said as he read the reports from the other ships. His fleet included what was originally his Force A against a suspected Japanese attack at the Indian Ocean.

 

The fact that the attack did not happen, had allowed Somerville to briefly head to Kenya, just before the ‘Wall of Light’ incident. Force A included his flagship, the HMS Warspite, aircraft carriers HMS Formidable and HMS Indomitable along with the full complement of 7 cruisers and 15 destroyers. His Force B, which consisted of HMS Hermes, all four of the older Revenge-class battleships and seven submarines were left to conduct operations in the Arabian Sea, coordinating with the Indian Navy, United States Navy, and the Royal Australian Navy.

 

One of the ships from the Royal Australian Navy, the destroyer RANS Sydney, was also attached as an intermediary between the Royal Navy’s Force A and the Indian Navy’s Vikrant Carrier Strike Group.

 

“And how are our mindful nannies today?” Vice Admiral Somerville asked as he finished reading the papers.

 

“Maintaining their distance.” Captain Oliver replied. “Though I have to admit sir, she is a beautiful vessel.”

 

“Make sure the Admiralty doesn’t hear that.” Vice Admiral Somerville quipped. “They’ll ask you to do ridiculous things like conducting espionage by taking pictures of it or something.”

 

“So what do you think of this entire situation sir?” Captain Oliver asked as he tilted his head starboard side where he could see the Vikrant. “The Sydney had sent us a recording of the Prime Minister’s speech in the American Congress, the fact that the Indians are calling for a ceasefire because they have achieved their tactical objectives and that the Prime Minister is coming to India tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, I did hear about that.” Vice Admiral Somerville said. “While I don’t understand what made the Prime Minister make such an… odd speech, the ceasefire does allay my fears that the Indians would mindlessly continue even if they have already won on the ground.”

 

“What about the sea?” Captain Oliver asked.

 

“From what I’ve been able to visually see, I believe the armour plating on these ships from 2025, is much lighter compared to even the HMS Hermes, if we’re talking aircraft carriers that is. But the point stands for the other ship types as well. Even the cruisers and destroyers seem to be hiding something under the bonnet, for which they sacrificed armour.” Vice Admiral Somerville surmised. “From my assessment, I believe they have gained more speed.”

 

“Even the Vikrant?” Captain Oliver asked.

 

“She seems to be matching our speed quite consistently, even if she is just a little behind.” Vice Admiral Somerville said.

“Yeah… about that.” Captain Oliver began. “Her length looks like to be what? 800 feet?”

 

“I’d say around 850. Maybe a bit more.” Vice Admiral Somerville guessed as both men looked towards the Indian fleet again before looking forward. “Around 100 feet or so longer than the Formidable and Indomitable. But definitely shorter than the USS Gerald R Ford, which to me looked to be about 1000 feet in length tip to tip.”

 

“Height seems to be at approximately 200 feet.” Captain Oliver noted.

 

“Around half on depth.” Vice Admiral Somerville supplemented.

 

“And yet she seems to be easily matching our speed.” Captain Oliver said. “Why do you think they sacrifice armour in the future?”

 

“The only reason why I can think, is perhaps in the future grand naval battles don’t take place.” Vice Admiral Somerville replied. “Maybe they fire from such a distance where they cannot even see each other?”

 

“How on earth is that possible?” Captain Oliver asked.

 

“I have no idea.” Vice Admiral Somerville admitted. “Perhaps they can pull some more tricks as well, but I can’t even imagine.”

 

Suddenly, there was a ringing from the crow's nest. Both men turned to look up. “CAPTAIN! THE INDIAN FLEET HAS INCREASED SPEED!” the sailor in the crow’s nest loudly yelled.

 

Vice Admiral Somerville and Captain Oliver looked at the starboard side, and indeed, the silhouette of the Vikrant could be seen at their direct starboard side, and was slowly increasing its speed. Immediately, both men quickly made their way towards the bridge, and from there, Vice Admiral Somerville could see the two bursts of light, and he was sure that meant that the INS Vikrant was launching its aircraft.

 

“Did you get in touch with the INS Vikrant?” Captain Oliver asked the Communications Officer.

 

“Aye sir.” The Communications Officer replied. “They’re not responding to our hails.”

 

“Try the RANS Sydney.” Vice Admiral Somerville suggested.

 

“RANS Sydney, this is the HMS Warspite.” The Communications Officer began. “The INS Vikrant is not responding to our hails. What’s the current status?”

 

“Chennai is under attack by supposedly the Imperial Japanese Navy. The Indian Navy have already lost three patrol vessels and the USS Bataan is half submerged in the port because of Japanese dive bombs.” The RNAS Sydney responded, much to the surprise of the men in the bridge of the Warspite. “The Vikrant is responding by sending two F/A-18s as a Quick Reaction Force. The Ford is also sending jets from Kochi.”

 

“Sir!” A communications technician called. “The INS Vikrant is hailing us.”

 

“Put them on.” Vice Admiral Somerville said. “Captain Vimal Naidu, what’s going on?”

 

“Chennai, or what you would call Madras, is being attacked by what we believe to be, the Imperial Japanese Navy.” Captain Naidu replied. “I have received the general location of the fleet from our P-8 Poseidon. However, the issue is that we need to deal with the planes first. We’re worried that if they get word we are going after their ships, the planes may conduct kamikaze attacks on the city.”

 

“What do you have in defence?” Vice Admiral Somerville asked, trying to envision how much bigger Madras would have gotten by now. He also filed away the mention of kamikaze attacks to analyse later.

 

“I have three squadrons of the Indian Air Force in the air, but they are lightly armed and have already spent their payloads. They refuse to leave until reinforcements arrive, and are playing chicken with the IJN planes.” Captain Naidu said.

 

“I have already dispatched two F/A-18s, but they are only 40% armed. The Indian Air Force is sending everything they got from other air bases across the country, but it will take time for them to reach the city. The army will never reach on time. In the sea, we’re the only ones with enough firepower to respond.”

 

“I see.” Vice Admiral Somerville said. “I will need to consult with the other XO’s and get back to you before making any commitment to engage.”

 

“I understand.” Captain Naidu said, and the communications were cut.

 

“What will you do sir?” Captain Oliver asked.

 

“It can only be the Japanese over here. I can let the Japanese and Indians spend themselves. Calculate the approximate location of the Japanese fleet, and strike them right now. The iron is certainly hot. No, I would say the iron is molten hot.” Vice Admiral Somerville pragmatically mulled.

 

“From Captain Naidu’s urgency, it seems like Madras does not have any defences. Whatever was there, has already been swept aside by the Japanese.” Captain Oliver responded. “To me, it seems like the Japanese are perhaps attacking a civilian target with no defences to speak of.”

 

“Just like the Luftwaffe attacks on Britain then.” Vice Admiral Somerville concluded.

 

“But with too many civilian casualties. At Least in London we have air raid shelters.” Captain Oliver reminded.

 

“I was originally sent to deter the Japanese Combined Fleet.” Vice Admiral Somerville replied.

 

“You were.” Captain Oliver agreed. “But wouldn’t it be better to have the Indians on our side as well for this? It certainly seems like they have the naval power to assist us.”

 

“Which would be because we came to their rescue along with the Indian Navy…” Vice Admiral Somerville summarised. Captain Oliver nodded. “And perhaps will see India joining the Allies and allowing our convoys to pass as they previously did.”

 

“Exactly.” Captain Oliver said in agreement.

 

Vice Admiral Somerville looked to the Warspite’s communications specialist. “Petty Officer. Send a morse message to the other ships of Force A. It will be as follows: ‘Madras under aerial attack. Possibly IJN. Indian Navy requesting assistance. Engage. Yes or No’. Let me know the minute the first reply comes in.”

 

“Yes sir.” The Petty Officer replied.

 

A few minutes later, the replies came in, and it was a unanimous agreement to assist the Indian Navy. Even Vice Admiral Somerville was surprised by it. “I love democracy.” Vice Admiral Somerville said under his breath.

 

“Sir, I just received another transmission from the Formidable and the Indomitable, they are preparing their fighters as we speak. But they’re asking for more information on the full composition of the Japanese fighters.

 

“Tell them to be prepared with everything they have got. Based on the Indians’ response, it seems like the IJN 1st Combat Fleet is throwing every bit of its Air Arm at them. If we are doing this, I do not want our fighters going half-arsed.” Vice Admiral Somerville ordered. “Also, contact our RAF bases in Ceylon, ask them to send everything they got.”

 

“Sir, do you wish to give your reply to the INS Vikrant?” Another communications technician asked.

 

“Yes, connect me to them.” Vice Admiral Somerville answered. “INS Vikrant, this is the HMS Warspite.”

“Copy HMS Warspite, we can read you loud and clear.”

 

“The Royal Navy will join this fight, Captain Naidu.” Vice Admiral Somerville said. “The HMS Formidable and HMS Indomitable are readying their jets, however, they are still requesting the full details.”

 

“If they can join our planes in the air right now, they can be briefed together by our AWACS.” Captain Naidu replied. “The situation is too hot for full details to come in. They are constantly changing.”

 

“I see…” Vice Admiral Somerville said. ‘What’s an AWACS?’ He thought before continuing. “Can you get me in touch with your highest ranking officer in this region?”

 

“We are patching you through to the Headquarters of the Indian Navy Eastern Command at Visakhapatnam.” The reply came. “Vice Admiral Vijay Kapadia.”

 

After a few minutes, Vice Admiral Somerville was patched through. “Vice Admiral Kapadia, this is Vice Admiral James Somerville of the Royal Navy. We can help you with the situation at Madras.”

 

“I know who you are, Vice Admiral. We appreciate the assistance.” Vice Admiral Kapadia replied. “We’re requesting you to put your fighters in the air, fully armed, if possible. The briefing will be done en-route by our Airborne Warning and Control System aircraft in the region, AWACS Sea Dragon.”

 

“Very well.” Vice Admiral Somerville said. “I shall pass on the message to the HMS Formidable and the HMS Indomitable.”

 

[-Linebreak-]

 

22nd April 1942

INS Vikrant,

Bay of Bengal,

Indian Ocean,

07:20:32 AM,

INAS 302 (The Snow Leopards),

Indian Navy.

 

Captain Advay Deol had been seated in his F/A-18E for the past ten minutes, as he waited for his turn to take-off, having already completed the system checks of his aircraft. His patience was rewarded when he got the order to line up.

With his F/A-18E in position, and his engines spooled up, the crewman signalled Captain Deol, who then rolled his aircraft to launch position. Taking off from the ship was extremely simple, as it was a STOBAR (Short Take-Off But Arrested Recovery), it relied on the high thrust to weight ratio of the aircraft to take off, and a ramp further assisted the aircraft in taking off.

 

Giving a thumbs up to the shooter, Deol pushed the throttle, igniting the afterburners and then releasing the brakes. His aircraft strained against the arresting gear, before it shot forwards, faster than a bullet, once it was released. With the assistance of the two F414-GE-400 turbofan engines, the F/A-18E was soon in the air.

 

Within a minute after taking off, Deol’’s F/A-18E circled around the carrier once before he linked up with his wingman. His engines were now on a dry thrust mode as they waited to receive instructions from the AWACS system providing coverage of the area.

 

“This is Pirate Flight, bearing zero-two-five and are at Angel’s two. How copy?”

 

“Sea Dragon, clear copy.” AWACS Sea Dragon replied. “Pirate flight, adjust to three-four-two at Angel’s five and await further instructions.”

 

“Roger Sea Dragon.” Captain Deol replied. “Pirate Flight, turning to three-four-two.”

 

As the two super hornets began vectoring to their designated waypoint, Deol could not help but comment on what he could see happening in the sea below him, “Hey Natt, did you notice those British jets scrambling as well?”

 

“I sure did.” Captain Shakti Natt replied. “Kinda crazy if you ask me.”

 

“Shit… Do you think we’re going to fly together?” Captain Deol asked.

 

“Well… They do say, war brings strange bedfellows.” Captain Natt said. “Though you may want to verify this with Sea Dragon.”

 

“Copy.” Captain Deol said.

 

Deol switched his comms to once again connect to AWACS Sea Dragon to get confirmation, “Pirate-One, requesting sitrep. RAF Fleet Air Arm jets taking off. Friend or Foe?

 

“Sea Dragon, Pirate Flight, British Venoms-”

[-Linebreak-]

22nd April 1942

Southern Indian Airspace,

07:23:09 AM,

NETRA AWACS ‘Sea Dragon’,

No. 50 Squadron IAF,

Indian Air Force.

 

“-British Venoms are friendly, vectoring towards matching waypoints.”

 

Group Captain Kiran Menon pressed his temples, taking a moment's rest from all the sensors giving information to the screens in front of him. The aircraft he was in, was a derivative Embraer ERJ 145 that had been converted into a dedicated AWACS system, was in Menon’s perspective nothing more but an over-glorified air control system. Despite all that, it was clear that Sea Dragon’s endurance was being pushed to its limit. Their hard earned R&R time they had got had obviously been horribly cut short when the reports of the attack in Chennai started coming in.

 

What he watched on the screen marking air contacts was nothing more but nightmare fuel for anyone. Fifty bogeys were in the air, launching havoc over Chennai, as all he could do was organise an interception of the bogeys. He was controlling Flankers from the south, Shamsheers from the Vikrant, and British Venoms from the British carrier group.

 

One of the sergeants, who was in-charge of communications with the friendly units, waved at Menon to gain his attention.

Turning his headset back on, he then responded to the Sergeant, “What is the matter, Sergeant?”

 

“Sir, P-8 Poseidon is reporting a group of unknown contacts breaching Indian Air Space at high speed from the South.”

“Who are they?” Menon asked.

 

“Nothing yet. They’ll be entering our AO within five seconds.”

 

“I just got them,” Menon said as he saw the grey blips on his screen. “Do you have their frequency?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Patch me through.” Menon said. A few minutes later, he started to speak.

 

“This is the AWACS Sea Dragon. Unknown aircraft. You have breached the airspace of the Republic of India. Identify yourself and state your intent or you will be taken down with deadly force. I repeat. This is the AWACS Sea Dragon. Unknown aircraft. You have breached the airspace of the Republic of India. Identify yourself and state your intent or you will be taken down with deadly force.”

 

“Uh… a-way Sea Dragon, right?” A voice asked. “This is the No. 258 Squadron and No. 30 Squadron RAF. We’re coming in to support you lot at Madras.”

 

“Sir, we have ‘em.” The Sergeant said. “Gloster Meteors from Colombo.”

 

“Roger.” Menon said as he turned the gray blips green. “No. 258 RAF and No. 30 RAF. Change bearing to 2-8-8 degrees and gain altitude to 9000 feet. Link up with Royal Navy and Indian Navy Fleet Air Arms.”

 

“Copy that.” The lead pilot in the Gloster Meteor said as the two RAF Squadrons changed bearing.

 

Menon looked at all of the assets he had in the air. Obviously, his most valuable assets were the IAF Su-30MKIs, IAF Tejas' and the IN F/A-18E/Fs. Even with the addition of the RAF and Royal Navy planes, the British air units were not expected to overpower the bogeys in the air, but their presence still helped in providing force multipliers.

 

With this, Menon decided to properly brief the units in the air. “Attention all friendly pilots, this is Airborne Warning and Control Aircraft Sea Dragon. You are all under my jurisdiction for this operation. I’ll begin the briefing. Chennai is under attack by multiple unknown bogeys. The damage from the attack is already widespread throughout the city. You all now have the authorization to determine and engage any hostile bogey above the city.”

 

“Are we the only ones responding to this?” A member of the Royal Navy’s 806 Squadron asked.

 

“Negative pilot. I have more planes from the Indian Air Force and the US Air Force arriving as reinforcements. For now, we are all available.”

 

“Any word on the composition of bogeys?” Pirate-1 asked.

 

“Roger, Pirate-1.” AWACS Sea Dragon replied. “The first wave was partially blunted when the Indian Navy’s Patrol Vessels and the USS Bataan began firing their anti-air weapons. But only four bogeys were hit. The current group of 50 bogeys are about to leave and be replaced by a third wave. Don’t allow that second wave to go home.”

 

“Copy on your last, Sea Dragon.”

 

“What’s the status of the Navy ships, Sea Dragon?” Pirate-2 asked.

 

“Enough chit-chat. INAS 302, RNAS 806, RAF 258 and RAF 30, get to work, now.” Group Captain Menon ordered, not yet willing to tell the pilots about the status of those ships.

 

Following the briefing, Menon was bogged down by his subordinates, all of whom were doing their jobs of informing each flight of details and by acting as their ATC in the air.

 

The only brief chuckle the crew had got, was when the F/A-18s dramatically increased their speed. When the RAF pilots expressed their surprise at it, Pirate-1 cheekily said, “The future is now, old man.”

 

As the formation of flights got closer to Chennai, the crew of AWACS Sea Dragon watched with baited breath as they made first proper contact with the bogeys of this second wave. They could see the Flankers turning afterburners to get in closer, and AWACS Sea Dragon gave all air units autonomy to be able to engage the bogeys, who were now confirmed by the Royal Air Force and the Royal Navy pilots as the aircraft of the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service.

 

The only reason why everyone was panicking was due to the surprise attack by the Japanese fleet. It was sheer dumb luck, along with the ridiculous amount of coincidences would make anyone think as if God gave luck to them.

 

All Indian surveillance aircraft in the area were down for either R&R or maintenance. Ground based surface radar had been acting up since the ‘Wall of Light’ Incident, and the Indian Navy was being overstretched as they dealt with Axis submarines and the British fleet at Chittagong.

 

“This is fucking insanity…”

22nd April 1942

Chennai,

Tamil Nadu,

Republic of India,

08:05:30 AM,

F/A-18E Super Hornet ‘Pirate Flight’,

INAS 302 (The Snow Leopards),

Indian Navy.

 

“Fox-2! Fox-2!”

 

An AIM-9X sidewinder was launched from Captain Deol’s wingtip pylon, and began tracking its target, a Japanese Kugisho R2Y2 that was five kilometres away. At the speed of mach two, the missile made contact with its target and exploded its ten kilogram payload of WDU-17/B annular blast-fragmentation warhead.

 

“Splash 2!” Captain Deol reported the downing of yet another Japanese plane from the sky. Once again he looked at his remaining armaments. Out of the Six AIM-120D and four AIM-9X missiles he took off with, only one sidewinder remained. The skies above Chennai had become a massive furball, with hostile and friendly aircrafts in close proximity, engaged in dog fights.

 

One of his concerns was committing a blue-on-blue on friendly aircrafts, especially the British Sea Venoms as it was becoming more and more difficult to visually distinguish between them and the Japanese J7W2 Shindens and the Indian pilots were solely relying on the blue diamonds around them courtesy of AWACS Sea Dragon.

 

But the main problem that he had to keep in mind, was to not collide with any other aircraft. Easier said than done with the sheer amount of chaos going on. Captain Deol took a glance to the left, only to notice something off. His eyes widened in momentary fear when he realised what it was.

 

“Oh fuck!” He pulled his control stick, making his F/A-18E manoeuvre violently, dodging what was an Indian Air Force Su-30MKI flying in weapons hot. As he turned back to look, he could watch the Flanker firing missiles and pulling away as well.

“Don’t you know how to use your horn?! Have some respect for pedestrians!” Captain Deol yelled as he levelled his aircraft and scanned for more targets.

 

The skies were nearly a free for all, with missiles flying all over, ground based AA positions from the Territorial Army that had been hastily set up, firing blindly at anything and everything that was flying. Patches of the sky were being filled with flak, forcing Captain Deol to make mental notes of where not to fly over.

 

“I’m behind another one! Fox-2!” Captain Deol heard over his comms, as his wingman fired an AIM-9X at what seemed like a Shinder. There was no time to confirm, as Bhoi watched another IJN plane seemingly fire on the tail of a RAF Meteor.

“Engaging bogey!” Captain Deol pulled into the Shinden, turning the annunciator of his last sidewinder to fire. It was growling, a sustained continuous note that indicated the homing head was locked on. “Fox-2!” Captain Deol pressed down on the fire button, the missile streaked towards the Jap plane and knocked it out of the sky.

 

“Splash 2!” He reported as he scanned the situation of the city. Alot of places were on fire, cratered by bombs along with crashed aircraft on the ground. Looking at the harbour was much worse, as ships had sunk and hit the bottom of the harbour.

 

"Sea Dragon. This is Pirate-1. Playtime, 10 minutes. Checking in as fragged. Ready for tasking.” Captain Deol said, reporting that he only had ten more minutes of combat time before he would be forced to return to the carrier again. He awaited further orders from the AWACs as he still had ammunition for his gun.

 

“Sea Dragon to all units. Bogeys detected approaching from the East. Bearing 2-7-2 at Angel’s two. Commit all groups, bullseye 0-8-2, track south east, hostile.”

 

Captain Deol’s heart dropped upon hearing this news. “Godammit Sea Dragon I don’t have any shit left to fire with!” Valkyrie-1 yelled over the comms, and Captain Deol couldn’t agree more. His aircraft had run out of most of its fuel and weapons, and the same was being reported by his wingman and the other Indian air units as well. The Brits themselves did not fare any better, having taken serious losses and requiring the assistance of Indian jets. Deol did not know how much endurance remained before they had to leave as well.

 

“Copy your last Valkyrie-1.” Sea Dragon acknowledged. “All units, Reinforcements are inbound. Friendlies vectoring in from the West, US Naval Aviation, and IAF Flankers are vectoring in from the South.”

 

“You got that in one Sea Dragon!” A new voice over the comms said. “Don’t worry kids, the big boys are coming into play. We’re gonna send the Japs crying.”

 

“Nice to know that the United States Naval Aviation hasn’t lost their sense of humour in such a situation.” AWACS Sea Dragon dryly said. “Cover their retreat, and then do what you do best.”

 

“Copy that Sea Dragon.”

 

“All Royal Air Force and Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm pilots still in the air, listen up.” AWACS Sea Dragon announced. “You have been granted special clearance to land at any Indian Air Force Station or Indian Navy Air Station in the region to refuel or repair. You will be given directions in just a moment.”

 

“Cheers mate. You’re a lifesaver.” An RAF pilot replied.

 

Meanwhile, Captain Deol smiled, as he and his wingman began making their way back to the INS Vikrant. He knew that Chennai was now in good hands.

 

“Hey Deol,” Captain Natt said.

 

“Sup?” Captain Deol asked.

 

“So when are we going to Tokyo?” Captain Natt asked, and Captain Deol detected the undercurrent of building rage in his wingman’s voice.

 

“Not soon enough.” Captain Deol replied. “But we’ll make sure to burn it to the ground when we get there.”

 

“Fuckin’ A.” Captain Natt said in approval.

[-Linebreak-]

22nd April 1942

Chennai,

Tamil Nadu,

Republic of India,

08:20:02 AM,

Carrier Strike Force-Wave 3,

Imperial Japanese Navy.

 

Captain Fuchida Mitsuo kept his eyes locked ahead as he led his flight of 50 aircraft to their target. He was now leading the third wave. After the near success of the first wave and their almost safe return, Captain Fuchida immediately got onto another fighter that was waiting for him on board the IJN Akagi so that he could lead the third wave. Nonetheless, all was not good. Especially because of the worry he felt when they crossed the second wave, it was clear that only a small number of planes were limping their way back towards the fleet. Captain Fuchida wondered how many of them would even safely make land on the carrier.

 

“Sir! We are approaching the target!” Captain Fuchida’s wingman reported from his own fighter, the Kyushu J7W2 Shinden.

“Good.” Captain Fuchida replied. “We do not have to worry about the ships. They should have sunk by now.”

 

“Yes–” His wingman started before he noticed something. “Hey! What’s tha–”

 

Much to Captain Fuchida’s horror, his wingman’s plane exploded into a ball of fire. Another explosion followed that.

 

“What’s going on?!” Captain Fuchida asked across his comms. “Someone tell me something!”

 

“We’re being attacked, sir!” One of the bombers replied. “One fighter and bomber have already been taken out!”

 

“How the hell is that possible?” Another fighter asked. “We can’t even see them!”

 

“Hey look! Something is coming fast!” Another pilot reported, and Captain Fuchida squinted his eyes and noticed a streak going at an incredibly fast speed before it collided with a bomber, blowing it off the air. Two more struck a fighter each, and Captain Fuchida realised what was hitting them.

 

“We’re being hit by missiles!” Captain Fuchida declared.

 

“Missiles? How?” A fighter pilot asked. “Only the Germans are using them in combat and they can’t hit from such a distance!”

“I don’t know how they’re doing it, but it’s clear that they are waiting for us.” Captain Fuchida responded. “We have lost our surprise. Everybody split up. We are sitting ducks right now. Fighters, your job is to only protect the bombers. Bombers, once you drop your payload, get out immediately.”

 

“Yes sir!” Everybody replied as they split themselves off.

 

As Captain Fuchida took his position next to a bomber, his mind ran at miles a minute. ‘How did these Indians get missiles? That too from such a far range? The only other nation that had operating missiles were the Americans. Britain and France are still testing theirs. The Russians definitely don’t have it, so how did these Indian rebels get them?’

 

As the Japanese planes got closer, Captain Fuchida could clearly see that the IJN planes had made good damage. The large airstrip was cratered with holes, the structure that he knew to be Fort George was burning, the ships that had harassed his planes were thoroughly sunk, and all around the city, significant damage had been dealt. If the intention was to send a message to the Indians about the consequences of not joining the Asian Sphere, Captain Fuchida could safely say that the message was delivered.

 

“Above target!” The bomber said.

 

“Do it.” Captain Fuchida ordered and saw the bomber dropping its payload. Thirty seconds later, a muffled explosion came from the ground.

 

“We’re done here. Let’s go.” Captain Fuchida ordered as the small flight changed their bearing.

However, just as they began turning, another loud explosion was heard, and Captain Fuchida turned back just in time to see the bomber turning into a ball of flame before dropping out of the sky.

 

“Separate!” Captain Fuchida yelled, and his flight turned to any and all other directions. Captain Fuchida himself quickly climbed up to gain altitude, when he noticed an RAF Gloster Meteor turning to leave some distance away. Immediately, Captain Fuchida turned to bring it down. ‘I’ll be damned if I don’t take out atleast one plane before the end of this shit show!’ Captain Fuchida thought before he began firing his guns at the RAF plane.

 

What followed was a dogfight between the RAF Meteor and Captain Fuchida’s Shinden. Captain Fuchida could tell that his prey was a skilled pilot by the way he moved to avoid being hit by Fuchida’s guns.

 

After a brief chase, the Meteor manoeuvred itself to now be situated behind Captain Fuchida, and suddenly, the Japanese pilot was now the prey. However, Captain Fuchida wrested back control of the situation by executing a rather dangerous spin.

 

After a series of back and forths, Captain Fuchida was once again behind the Meteor and had noticed that his foe’s engine was emitting a small amount of black smoke and there were nicks on the tail and wings. Deciding to stop playing with his food, Captain Fuchida prepared himself to finish off his opponent.

 

That’s when he realised that at some point a third party had joined him and the RAF plane.

 

‘Who is that?!’ Captain Fuchida thought as he looked at the aircraft behind him. ‘Better question would be, what in God’s name is that aircraft?!’ Captain Fuchida added, before he sharply turned right, allowing the Japanese naval aviator to properly see the markings on the plane. His eyes widened when he saw the roundel of the United States Navy below a transparent bubble that he assumed was the cockpit.

 

‘The Americans are helping the Indian rebels?’ Captain Fuchida thought in confusion as he still kept his eyes on the strange American aircraft. ‘And what the hell are they flying? A new type? Why are they over here and not in the Pacific?’

As he watched, he saw the pilot turn to him and put his left fist up, before he made a screwing motion with his right hand (next to his left fist), and slowly raised the middle finger, before showing two thumbs down.

 

Even if he did not understand the meaning of the gestures, Captain Fuchida was sure he had just been mocked, and he decided to make that pilot pay. He positioned his fighter behind the American plane and prepared to fire a full burst of his guns. However, much to Captain Fuchida’s shock, two panels on both wings of the American plane came up, and suddenly, Captain Fuchida was very much ahead of the American plane.

 

“What the fuck was that?!” Captain Fuchida asked in shock and awe. “How did he do that?! Nevermind, he will shoot me down! I have to disengage!”

 

The Japanese naval aviator used everything in his knowledge and repertoire to lose the American plane behind him, but the aircraft was stuck like glue. It was far enough where it would not be at any risk from the draft of Captain Fuchida’s jet, yet near enough to take pot shots with its own gun.

 

As Captain Fuchida reached his wit’s end at what he could do, his starboard wing burst into flames. The Japanese pilot looked back and saw the American plane dislodge another, what he assumed to be a missile, that struck his port wing. The last thing he saw of the American plane before it left to hunt other prey, was the American pilot this time flashing two middle fingers at him.

 

Captain Fuchida knew that he had a precious few seconds left, and calmly rationalised what he was supposed to do as he remembered his training. He lamented that the IJN still had not implemented ejection seats as the German Luftwaffe had recently started doing as he looked outside. He realised that he was luckily outside the city. He was not only over flat open land, but he also realised that there was some kind of massive road below him as well.

 

The Japanese pilot used the tail and rudder of his aircraft as much as he could, while at the same time pulling the lever for the landing gear, hoping to make a belly landing on either the open land or the highway. A few minutes later, Captain Fuchida’s plane crash-landed and skidded on the highway, before it rolled over into the open ground next to it.

Sometime later, a dazed Captain Fuchida, now armed with his service pistol and wakizashi crawled out of his aircraft. He pulled out his flare gun and shot inside the cockpit to not allow the Indians to glean anything useful from the aircraft and turned around.

 

He came face to face with a mob of people. Many of them were armed with thick sticks, and some of them were pointing small strange boxes at him and his plane. What Captain Fuchida did notice, was that everyone had the same range of expression as they looked at him and his plane. Anger. He took out his pistol and pointed at the mob and only said, “Stay back” in heavily accented English. The mob looked like they would comply, until another fellow (who gave Captain Fuchida vibes similar to a Yakuza) came forward, and pointed a double-barrelled shotgun at him.

 

It was at this moment, Captain Fuchida realised that he (and in turn the Empire of Japan), had fucked up.

 

[-Linebreak-]

 

22nd April 1942

11°54'01.0"N 83°41'18.4"E,

Bay of Bengal,

Indian Ocean,

08:55:32 AM,

Imperial Japanese Navy.

 

From the bridge of the IJN Akagi, Vice Admiral Nagumo looked to the sea and the distant coast. He had no choice but to make the bitter conclusion that the third wave wasn’t coming back. Somehow, the Indian rebels hurt the first wave, mauled the second wave, and obliterated the third wave including, perhaps, Captain Fuchida himself. Just like Pearl Harbour, they would not be able to unleash their final wave, because it was clear that doing so would only be throwing good pilots and expensive aircraft in the grinder.

 

‘Nonetheless, despite the losses, I can safely say that the mission has been completed.’ Vice Admiral Nagumo thought. “We still have to watch out for the Royal Navy, and the remaining planes and pilots will be required to make sure we can safely make it back to Japanese waters.”

 

“Vice Admiral.” The XO of the Akagi called, breaking the man out of his musings.

 

“Call off the last wave.” Vice Admiral Nagumo ordered. “Send this to all Carriers. ‘Element of surprise lost. Turn back. Set course for Staring Bay’. If we leave now, we can hopefully avoid any Royal Navy patrols in the region.”

 

The XO looked like he wished to protest, but nodded and ordered the communications officer to relay the message. Vice Admiral Nagumo looked to the deck, and already the jets were winding down and confused pilots were coming out of their cockpits.

 

‘This is the right decision.’ Vice Admiral Nagumo thought. ‘Unfortunately, even if our downed pilots are alive, there is no way we can rescue them. I apologise, Captain Fuchida.’

 

Some time later, the XO of the Akagi approached him again. “We are ready to set sail and return back. We’re waiting on your orders, sir.”

 

“The order, Captain, is given.” Vice Admiral Nagumo said. “Let’s go home.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

As the fleet once again began moving, it was not aware that high above in the sky, a small flying object streaked above the fleet. The IJN fleet did not know that they were being watched by an MQ-9 Sea Guardian drone of the Indian Navy that had been looking for them by using the Coast Guard pilot’s last known location as a reference point.

 

Vice Admiral Nagumo also did not know that once his fleet was located, every military satellite of the Republic of India, and a few satellites of the United States that were formerly assigned to the Indo-Pacific Command were now trained on the IJN Fleet.

 

It would take a long time for the final confirmed death toll to be released, but the Japanese Attack on Chennai claimed the lives of 7890 Indians, almost all of them civilians. 11 Americans, six sailors and five marines, all of whom were in the USS Bataan. And 26 British pilots from the Royal Air Force (12 pilots) and Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm (14 pilots) who had responded and fought tooth and nail over the skies of Chennai alongside the Indian Air Force and Indian Navy Fleet Air Arm.

 

Any hope for the Axis Powers, especially the German Reich, to have India join them was destroyed with the city of Chennai, as a furious nation was now baying for blood. For the first time in history, the South Asian Tiger would now begin to bear its fangs at two military powerhouses of the 1940s out of its own free will.