Distant Thunders

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This was NAP 1/c Nataka’s last chance. Admiral Nagumo, commanding the First Air Fleet, had ordered Nataka’s carrier, Kaga, home for repairs. She’d scraped her bottom in the Palau Strait and developed an annoying leak. Now she’d have to leave the war right when things were going so well. Nataka was seriously concerned the war might even be over before she-and, by extension, he-managed to get back in the fight.

He’d already seen a lot of “action” and sometimes felt as if he’d been in the cockpit of his beloved kanbaku ever since the beginning of this “new” war against the Americans, British, and Dutch. In all that time however, during all the sorties he’d flown, he hadn’t managed to hit anything with one of his 250kg bombs! He’d missed the glorious attack on Pearl Harbor; he’d been too sick to hide something that gave him a raging fever and they hadn’t let him go. He’d flown many missions since, but now heroes, immortals, surrounded him. They’d been his comrades, his peers just a few months before, but they’d accomplished the impossible while he lay sweating in his rack. Somehow, he just hadn’t been able to catch up.

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