The early morning sunlight labored to penetrate the heavy mist blanketing Sensibaugh Shoals. Here and there, the mist moved aside to allow its dangerous friend room to play. As sheets of filtered light fell upon the chilling waves, they shimmered, and danced with the heavy meandering fogs. The light reveled in this ballet and glowed with a warm fire that it knew would eventually lay its companion to rest. In many places, however, the light lost its luster, and in others, dimmed to near blackness. It was in these darkest of places that sounds could be heard by those souls brave enough to leave the safety of the light. Strange sounds, emanating from even stranger, darker, ominous shapes, moving stealthily in and out of the mists.

From one particularly thick fog bank, Bismarck slowly emerged with its sister ship, Tirpitz. Their assigned task was to break through an enemy barricade with their light cruiser escort, and seek out the supposedly still forming enemy Fast Raiding Force. What surprised this Battle Group's commander was that there was no force to be found. Instead of locating the enemy, the two larger battlewagons nearly lost track of their own raiding party in the mobile and unpredictable fogs, and only reacquired their escorting cruisers after circling for some time. The Battle Group reformed, and altered course back into the dark gray mists. This barren patch of sea was obviously not the enemy's gathering point. The Admiral set his jaw and considered his courses. He must find it soon. FleetCom signaled that war had just been declared, and the enemy was undoubtedly on the move...

The sun continued working its way on the thick morning mists, burning through the moisture completely in many areas. But the recently playful fogs had adopted a serious lethal stance. They had a part to play in the coming battles, and refused to wither away and die. Instead, they insidiously flowed to new parts of the Shoals. The battle between sun and water had developed sharp skirmish lines. Where there was bright daylight in one point, there was a nearly impenetrable shadow-darkness in the next.

Iowa and Queen Elizabeth were from very different time periods. Though their missions were originally similar, history had passed up one and bestowed the lion's share of glory on the other. But today, they worked in tandem, with 4 other battleships of various periods.

As strange as the group appeared, their mission was very serious indeed. The Fast Raiding Force had not formed. There was a collision in the fog that left one ship crippled, and another lost. In the ensuing confusion, the force was prevented from forming. And on top of that, the Admiralty sensed that the lack of activity in the far reaches of the Shoals meant that there was soon to be major contact in close to home port. There simply was no way the enemy could hide their entire fleet in the fogs, unless they controlled the fogs, and that was meaningless rubbish. With time running short, the formation of the Raiders was considered too big of a risk. The force broke up even before it was formed, and splitting into two groups, sought out their Blockade squadron in an effort to build a slower, but much more lethal super-force.

Flagship Bismarck spotted a haunting silhouette. Slowly taking and losing form, on a roughly parallel course to the Battle Group, was a massive black shape, only shades darker than the fogs that caressed its flanks. It moved as though the heavy vapors were a close friend, and that the time to leave this friend was a choice all its own. The Admiral recognized the behemoth. Their was no mistaking its striking similarity to his own ship, nor the double stacks that were its most prominent difference. He shivered at the thought of the firepower of this particular ship, the H-39. It moved at a good clip, at least 26 knots, and was accelerating. Bismarck signaled the Battle Group, and ordered a new formation. No answering reply was received by the old veteran Hindenburg. It would fall into place as it had countless times before. The 3 battleships would take the center, while the 5 light cruisers would take up positions ahead and to the left and right. Welcomes were exchanged, and the recently magnified BG moved on its mission...

The BG accelerated to 30 knots, and individual warships trained their guns obliquely to the starboard bow. Recent intelligence, gained at very high cost, placed a massive force coalescing just on the other side of the bank. While 2 destroyers were sunk in the intelligence gathering mission, curiously their presence and attack (forced by their discovery) did not provoke a search of the area by the enemy, as verified by the surviving PT boat still prowling the battle site. Guns were aimed to ready this modest force for a fierce battle. The 8 ships continued on their fast mission. Caution was thrown to the greedy winds for very important reasons. It was hoped that the enemy had not discovered these. If they had, this small BG was sure to be lost at sea. The small force began to split. Then the moment came. The PT boat was sighted, and the order to "Fire at will" flashed to the hunters. It had begun...

Flagship Iowa was maneuvering into her place within the formation when several hard-hitting rounds smashed into her side. Immediately the announcement blared through the fleet, "Enemy contact!" "Where?" was the reply. Confusion was king. The flag bridge could not answer. They knew they were under attack, but could not see the enemy. But from where the hits had been received, they attackers HAD to be somewhere in the Southern fog bank. Kirov rocked from a massive broadside hit and immediately started pumps to control the flooding. QE, Iowa and several other ships continued to take fire of varying degrees.

The Iowa steered headlong into the likely origin of fire and accelerated to 2/3 speed. Other ships followed suit as the formation fluidly altered its shape according to prearranged and well practiced rules. Eyes strained to see the enemy. A few minor hits registered on the lead ships as they approached the fog bank 80 feet away. The captain of the North Carolina noticed that the rate-of-fire seemed to increase just before the mad rush to battle, and the heavy hits had ceased. The damage they were now taking seemed to be from weaker, or smaller guns. It continued even as they closed on the bank. 5 salvos had found a few marks as they came up on the edge of the bank. "Are these shots coming from the same enemy...?" "What happened to the heavy guns? Have they broken ranks already???" THERE! THE ENEMY!

Hipper and Hawaii burst from the fog at 33 knots heading for the middle of the huge battle fleet. Guns rotated port and starboard, working hard to acquire and hit targets as they raced INTO the enemy and through them. But even as they smiled at their strong hits with fast-firing guns and torpedoes, they saw the enemy split. A large portion continued into the fog and disappeared. Two battleships and 3 cruisers, however, made gut wrenching turns and pursued.

Bismarck passed the order to move into phase two of the battle. The second half of the BG emerged from the fog bank on its east border, 40 feet south of where the enemy main force had so recently entered in search of the source of the big guns hits. The heavy rifles pre-trained to the expected area of battle, and years of long range targeting paid off. Nearly a third of the huge rounds let loose on the first volley found their mark, with several good hits on the QE. The Hipper was in trouble. Out-sped, and out-gunned, she was taking a beating. Hawaii was untouched, and not under attack. "My lord," the Admiral said. The SWARM was in effect by the enemy. It was an awesome sight. The enemy ships used superior speed and maneuverability to encircle the cruiser force. Bismarck, Tirpitz and Hindenburg advanced with all guns angled to one side for maximum effect. The target was the QE. As the Big ships continued their attack, the 3 remaining cruisers sped out ahead of them to engage North Carolina with the help of Hawaii.

On the North Carolina, spirits were high. Hipper was pumping hard, and listing aft. A small cruiser had stopped in front of Hipper and halted her forward motion. It was gun to gun now, and Hipper soon sank. But a price had been paid. Several deep gashes had appeared on the QE below waterline. The damage wasn't considered severe, but it was damage nonetheless and could not be ignored. The appearance of the small BG off to one side subconsciously made the commander wonder if any more surprises were in store.

Hindenburg swiveled her side mounts forward. As she raced toward the heart of the swarm, the rat-tat-tat of timed auto-fire preceded her. The main guns barked in half-time, merging with the sound of the other two battlewagons. QE was pulling to one side to pump, but Hawaii and Lutzow blocked her. QE's only choice was to back and steer, and hope that her TF would assist. North Carolina was being torpedoed by a pair of cruisers, and took several hits from the side mounts of Tirpitz as she passed on way to attack QE. But this didn't go unanswered. Her rapid-fire side mounts tore a hole along the waterline of Tirpitz, and the pumps started almost immediately.

Iowa maddeningly rushed into battle, only to find no battle waiting. In front and to both sides of his ship, there was nothing but empty sea. Where had the enemy force gone? Then, the Admiral heard the gunfire, and reports of a second BG jumping the ships left behind came through. A second force? He knew that to be false. He also knew that the presence of the blasted fogs were the only way the enemy BG could have pulled this off. He ordered an immediate turn around. Knowing that his fleet was numerically superior to his enemy's, a smile swept his face, "No prisoners......"

QE didn't survive long. The combined attack of 27 heavy guns, and 34 rapid-fire guns literally blew her thin armor to pieces. The was no bow section, except for the splintered ribs. She sank, firing defiantly as she went down. The battle had gone bad for the Raiding Force remnant. While Tirpitz was listing by the bow, and Lutzow was near death, the North Carolina had been abandoned by its escort. There simply was no ammo left for them to fire. The combined power of the surviving members of the break-away BG forced North Carolina to turn and seek cover. The BG split into two diverging units, and maintained an effective cross-fire. North Carolina could not avoid the fast moving rounds no matter which direction she turned, and sank shortly after.

Iowa's TF had nearly completed its turn when the flagship was hit again. The attacking PT boat drove a Broad-lance torpedo into her side. The ripping entry opened a hole nearly 2 1/2" long, and 1/2" deep. Water gushed into the hole, rapidly triggering a furious response from the damage control parties. Part of her escort pursued the brazen Elco and hammered it from both sides. The torpedo boat fired off one more shot before sinking. It passed by harmlessly.

But the next shot did not. 8 hard hitting rounds from the Jean Bart, Richelieu, and South Dakota found the Iowa. All attention was diverted from the current course momentarily. Iowa's Admiral passed an order, and the fleet separated into two. The prongs lanced outward to encircle the enemy, which seemed to grow larger and larger. The slower ships multiplied before the Admiral's eyes. 3, 4, 7 battleships, 4 heavy cruisers, and many support vessels. "They can't possibly have ANY defenses in reserve for the home port! This is all they have. Isn't it?" As he raced into battle, grinning ear-to-ear the whole way, he wondered how the 3rd TF was doing. TF3 was assigned the duty of running the enemy blockade to attack the home base. But the Admiral was fairly sure there WAS no blockade, not after seeing how many enemy ships were committed to this battle. His intelligence claiming the presence of a defensive force was wrong, but no matter. The error was in his favor. WHAM! WHAM! Or was it? The concussion sobered him. That just meant that more ships were available for forward duty. Iowa was taking fire from 3 directions. The Admiral looked around. But where the heck did that just come from?

Tirpitz had found her range, and was following Iowa's every move from 40 feet away. Bismarck was doing the same from closer. Hindenburg had maneuvered to offer the full power of a 36 barrel broadside. Sweet Lord, what a sight. The ship rocked with every salvo. The captain of the Tirpitz considered the tactical situation, and his ship's damage. There would be no abandoning this fight. He was in it for good. The captain ordered Ready on the torpedoes and secondaries. He was NEXT. The 2nd swarm was coming his way, but taking hits as it did so. One cruiser broke off for home after taking hits from 3 ships. There was no denying the inevitable. Tirpitz was doomed. With the pumps going hard, she could manage her current damage, but more was on the way, more than he knew she could handle.

Alabama backed near Tirpitz and opened up a large gash. The answering angled fire returned the favor. But small, fast rounds kept coming. Back and forth the shots flew. Tirpitz was slowly sinking, yet firing as she had seen QE do. It was exhilarating! The last thing the captain of the mighty Tirpitz saw was the H-39's answer to a block by the New Jersey, as Hindenburg sent a hail of fire into the Alabama by her side. A wall of water erupted from deep beside the NJ as the bow of H-39 bounced back from the ram. "The Uber-weapon!!!!" What an awesome sight. New Jersey listed heavily to one side, as only a ship with massive instantaneous damage can do. It would not be long before New Jersey joined Tirpitz on the deep, dark bottom. The swarm then turned its attention to the Hindenburg. Bismarck formed up in the first use of a very special defensive formation. The entire fleet was finding it necessary to do so. Side-by-side, they steamed through the enemy, halving the potential damage. But it forced them to moved slower to maintain position. All hoped this big risk would pay off.

TF3 was having a ball with the first end of shore installations it came across. No defenders, easy targets. There weren't many things to shoot at here, the big prizes were at the other end. But since there was no defending force, this would be a cake walk. The TF took it's time, picking off targets of opportunity at will. When Indianapolis made the first moves on the greater construction of the site, her speed dropped. Thinking it a minor problem in reserve electricity, the captain decided to add power rather than return home for repairs. The ship only slowed faster, to a complete halt. Other ships in the force had problems of similar nature, some worse than others. When the order went to halt the advance, fully 1/2 half the force was already stopped, and the other 1/2 was having trouble. "What in the world....?" "MINES!" Silent ones at that. The propulsion systems had been disabled by mines in the harbor.

Commander Garret, of the Southern Province Defensive Gunnery shore installation calmly gave the order to cut down the intruders. His calm was not one born completely of assuredness. No sir, not by a long shot. The mood was somber. News of the battles at sea was not good. Inconclusive estimates of enemy damage gave only a hazy picture of the losses the other side incurred. But the beating of his own fleet was now well known. Sunk were the Tirpitz, Hipper, Hawaii, South Dakota, Scharnhorst, PT-431, Belfast, Northampton, Canberra and others. Presumed lost were the Bismarck, Unryu, Yamato, several small cruisers, and.......Hindenburg.

The battle doors swung open, and his well trained men set the shore guns at medium range. Mouths were set hard, and all eyes were cold. No prisoners... "Fire at will boys. Hit the non-injured ships first." The large bore cannons chased off the attacking force that was able to move. While they normally would have closed with the shore batteries and probably disabled some of them, the mine threat was too fresh. Next, Garret turned his attention on the stranded ships. After 23 minutes of fierce shooting, he realized he may have made a mistake. The sunken hulks now posed a threat to any ships attempting to navigate the safe path of the mined harbor. The enemy ships had been moved, by sheer force of gunfire, into the clear channels. He sighed, "If any ships are left to return, we'll deal with it then. If............."

The fogs had pretty much burned away. As the battles wound down, so did the fogs resolve to take part in them. Stragglers from both fleets limped for home. Iowa had survived. The pre-war enhancements to her pumps paid off. No other ship absorbed as much damage and made it home. Of her fleet, more than half was on the bottom. None returned with ammo. The Admiral smiled at that. That meant they all fought to the last round of ammo, or drop of blood. No better showing could be made. Even the ships that left early because of damage, returned to fight until luck or ammo ran out. As for the enemy, the morning had seen many big ships die. Some went slowly, fighting and biting and cursing the whole way, ripping hulls even as the decks went awash. Others just simply vanished.

The most exciting death was of the Yamato. Something failed deep inside her, either of its own, or from gunfire. But if what had happened was what the young Admiral suspected, it only could be from friendly fire. Yamato was at the end of an attack finger, curving around the beleaguered Iowa in an effort to cut her off. While striking out across the line-of-friendly-fire, she suddenly blew up. Her deck bulged and broke under turret number two, and the hull blew apart below that point leaving cavernous jagged holes. A massive gas explosion, most likely from the impact of a friendly heavy round, could be the only cause. Unless the gun let loose on its own, the only other reason for such a rapid bleed of pressure would be a damaged accumulator. Whatever it was, the ship simply vanished. After the geyser of water settled down, the only thing to be seen was the stern sinking quickly and quietly, with hardly a rush of air.

The Admiral's face tightened at the thought of New Jersey. The devil ship H-thirty-whatever-the-hell-it-was had sunk it while bracing the T! He saw the ram, but was pulled away by the threat from the still charging Yamato. When he looked back, the H-devil was steaming away with a small group while taking fire from a fast pursuing force. The whole lot of them disappeared into one of the remaining fog banks. He turned and watched as the New Jersey rolled onto her side, coughed twice, and sank.

The enemy lost many ships. That much is known, but which? His only surviving ships from that battle were too busy fighting off, (and actually sinking) the Scharnhorst and Belfast. They came home empty with a third ship, the Repulse. But Repulse sank shortly after the battle. Enemy gunfire had shaken her so badly that the radio center broke down. With her damage causing great flooding, and out of control, she ran at full speed onto the rocks. The after action damage reports would be slow in coming in, but they would come. Meanwhile, the Admiral welcomed home his survivors.

Jean Bart met a strange sight when the harbor came into view. It appeared that a new pier was under construction. He could see the pilings in the water at a distance. But the arrangement was curious, They were set almost as if... Oh, heck, the gun batteries couldn't have... THEY DID! Geez, from the masts sticking out of the water, he could count 5 dead ships, and more may be in deeper waters. He would have to watch his path. The captain looked around his patrol area. Strangely quiet now. Almost like a tomb... He stopped his thoughts, it WAS a tomb. A deep dark one, with many of his fallen comrades taking up residence. He had witnessed the death of Yamato. It numbed him for a long while. Long enough for the enemy to pick him out as a disabled ship. They discovered the truth when they foolishly lined up along side to blast away with side mounts. He ripped open one attacker's boot line amidships, and drove off the other with help from his escort.

As he neared the harbor, a harbor-master came out to assist in navigating the now twice dangerous waters. One last look behind him, no one else followed, enemy OR friendly. Damn, what a shame. But just as he turned around, he noticed movement on the water. 5 ships coming his way, slowly. A battlewagon, 3 cruisers, and, no wait.... 2 battlewagons, 2 cruisers and a destroyer. How the heck did a destroyer come thought that hell? His heart was warmed. At least the drydock wouldn't be so lonely.

The glimmer of splashing water could be seen near the bow and stern of the biggest of the two BBs. And a third stream exited from the other side. Only one ship in the fleet had three pumps, with redundant systems, Hindenburg. And the shape of the other looked like a smaller version, had to be Tirpitz or Bismarck. Bismarck definitely. He remembered hearing that Tirpitz died early in the fighting. It looked as if all ships were pumping except for the little destroyer. Had he gone off to hide during the fight? A closer look revealed the answer. No way. You don't loose half your superstructure hiding in the weeds. So, 3 battlewagons had survived. Would that be enough to mount a second attack? The thought crossed his mind, and came back a again. Perhaps, perhaps. But maybe we should rest for a bit, and remember the dead. Damage needed to be repaired, and guns reloaded. Maybe their shore stations are still unguarded. Just then, a message flashed over from Bismarck echoed his thoughts. The remainder of the fleet was to engage the enemy as soon as possible. He smiled, and rushed to prepare the ship for battle. If ammo still remained, and it likely did, maybe they didn't even need to repair after all? Their may be NO defenders in battle ready condition over there! A quick operational check was made of the remainder of the fleet. Ammunition was low, but there was enough to carry out what the Admiral had in mind.

The Iowa was sitting in harbor, pumping. Most of the fleet had put into dry dock. Standard repair methods needed a slight modification to deal with this recent damage, but it posed no serious problem. The real problem was getting all the ships out of the water. There just wasn't enough manpower to help, or room to operate. The Admiral looked back to sea, where 2 of his 6 remaining battlewagons circled in mock battle. They had the lightest of damage, but were guns-dry. These 2 could wait till the others were taken care of, and then come in.

But suddenly, there were 5 ships on the water. He thought it was just a trick of the lights. But now his ships were coming for home! The enemy had returned. He wasn't overly concerned, they could outrun these intruders. Now there were 7 attackers. He turned to order his battle ready ships into the water, but he had none. The truth cam upon him, with no ammo, and no defense, his ships could be hounded till they were boxed in. Already the enemy force was splitting up to enable a shot from at least one angle at any time. All he could hope for was fast damage repair, and quicker thinking. It wasn't over yet.

On a spur, the BG commander changed his plans. The German Heavies and their French ally passed their unarmed foes and continued to the enemy port, while the light escort hounded the pair of unarmed battleships. They saw an Admiral on the docks, frantically issuing orders. Some ships made preparations to launch, but disorganization reigned. The BG would ignore the shore targets for now. This was to be one last battleship raid on a bottled up target.

Before the two cruisers managed to launch, amid rapid orders from the Admiralty, Iowa settled slowly to the harbor bottom under a fusillade from the 3 attacking battleships. Bubbles and wreckage collected around the base of his lower guns and superstructure, and silt, disturbed from his keel settling into the mud, flowered up around his sunken hull. A cheap attack it was, but the results could not be ignored. Until raising operations could be started, all the Iowa could serve as was a block ship. The Admiral settled back and nodded his head at the retreating raiding force, which was steering clear of the sinking form of one of his unarmed and recently undamaged warships. He smiled and tipped his hat at them. "Good work, guys, good work. This day is yours. But there will be an accounting. There will be another day..."