NIGHT PATROL

Evening Post, Volume CXXXV, Issue 19, 23 January 1943, Page 6

NIGHT PATROL

FIERCE LITTLE SHIPS

PERIL FOR THE JAPS

(Official War Correspondent, N.Z.E.F.) ABOARD A MOTOR-TORPEDO-BOAT, December 28. Death is riding on wings of white sea spray tonight towards any ship the enemy may try to sneak through Solomons waters to supply his beleaguered ground forces on Guadalcanal. We are riding with it in a fierce little ship that is all'guns and high-powered motors and fat torpedoes. This is one of the "monsters with flapping wings"—the motor-torpedo- , boats of the United States navy—for I which the Japanese learned a healthy respect in the Battle of the Philippines. He is learning more about them here as they sweep the calm but sinister sea that lies between his bases ahd Guadalcanal. Their swift stabs in the night have sent at least three enemy ships of war to the bottom and have damaged several others. Fast, elusive, and powerfully armed, the torpedo-boats are a constant thorn in the enemy's side. They roam with impunity across bis slender, fast-dwindling supply line, and when they strike they strike hard, and often are gone before the Jap knows what has hit him. Our search for targets tonight has been in vain. Perhaps the' night is too bright and clear for the enemy to risk any more of his ships; he has found these waters filled with danger in much poorer visibility than this. But it is still exciting to feel the ship surge forward at every light touch on her throttles, her bow riding high and her wake churning behind; to listen to the radio chatter between aircraft and shore stations and other boats; and to creep close in to the Japanese beachhead—a venture that seems to emphasise our mastery of this stretch of sea It's exciting, too, to sit in the open cockpit with the blue-eyed young Navy lieutenant-in command, and hear what might have happened tonight—what really did happen not so many nights ago to this same" ship and this same crew. He gives us a picture of the squadron heading out from its base into a night far blacker than this; all that can be seen of the boats is the dim white trail of foam behind each stern. ENEMY SIGHTED. The crews are tensely on the alert, and the officers in' the cockpits constantly swing their -binoculars around the horizon. The enemy is known to be attempting desperately to get supplies through under cover of night by destroyer and even submarine; and it is almost certain he will try to make full use of this blackness. Suddenly the two-way radio crackles and words come—clear, cool, urgent One of theiboats has sighted something, a black, uneven shape, just distinguishable against a slightly less black sky. And there are more than onethere are seven, and they are destroyers, and they are Japanese. They steam in a tight column, in line astern, past Savo Island, a mere five miles oft* the coast of Guadalcanal. Our torpedo boat moves silently in tor the kill The noise of the engines has dropped from a roar to a murmur, and her white wake fades. She picks out the leading enemy ship for her own. The young skipper plans! his attack with cool deliberation, for . the Japanese destroyers steam on unaware of the ambush. From an ex- 1 treme range, two torpedoes hurtle one j after the other into the black water. Our boat swings quietly away, and the crew watches with suppressed excitement. Two sudden red flashes .. . and then a fury of flame and explosion that means the violent death of the enemy ship. The Japanese did not know what hit them that night. They did not know what to shoot back at. . When the rest of our pack bf torpedo-boats had crept in and struck, scoring three more hits, the enemy broke and ran in confusion., <■■ Dawn is spreading its pale light over , the glassy sea. The radio crackles again, and we hear the voice of the sqvadron commander in the leading boat: "I'm hungry—let's go!" And we race home to a better breakfast than the Japs on Guadalcanal [ will ever get.