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skyfire85 · 4 years

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-The sole remaining M6A1 Seiran at the NASM Udvar Hazy Center after an 11 year restoration. | Photo: Karsten Palt

Flightline: 53 - Aichi M6A1 Seiran

Capitalizing on the successful raid on Pearl Harbor, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, Commander-in-Chief of the Japanese Combined Fleet, proposed a fleet of large submarine aircraft carriers to attack the continental US.

-I-401 underway, date unknown. | Photo: IJN

Work on the I-400-class submarine, the largest sub constructed until the ballistic missile submarines of the 1960's, began in 1943, though the planned fleet of 18 was scaled back to nine, then five as the war turned against the Japanese. The leviathan subs had a watertight tube which could hold three airplanes, as well as torpedo tubes and a deck gun. Each plane would be rolled out, rigged for flight and launched via a compressed air catapult. In the end, only three were completed, and only the first two, I-400 and I-401 were launched before the war’s end. The US captured all three subs, though I-402 was sunk off Fukue Island to prevent the USSR from also inspecting the sub. I-400 and I-401 were sailed to Hawaii for further study, though they were eventually sunk in 1946, again to keep them out of Soviet hands.

Aichi Kokuki KK was tapped to build the new torpedo/dive bomber, which would be launched from the subs, attack the targets, then return to the sub’s position, which would then surface and retrieve the crew before sinking the planes. Initially planning to adapt the D4Y1 (Judy) dive bombers Aichi was building under license, eventually a clean-sheet design was needed as the modifications would be too extensive.

-Orthographic view of the M6A1. | Illustration: Kaboldy

The final design was a low-wing monoplane with pontoons.The plane featured a crew of two and was armed with an 850kg torpedo or bomb, as well as 13mm machine gun on a flexible mount for self defense. The plane was powered by a license-built copy of the Daimler-Benz DB 601 V12 engine, which provided a cruise speed of 296km/h and a range of 1,188km.

-Scan of a model kit instructions showing the extensive folding required to fit the M6A1 into its hangar. | Screenshot: Tamiya Model Co.

-Cutaway model of the I-400 submarine showing the folded M6A1s. | Photo: Pintrest

In order to cut down on prep time, the aircraft, given the designation M6A and called the Seiran (lit. “storm from the clear sky”) would be launched from a cold start, with oil and water preheated separately and pumped into the engine prior to catapult, an idea borrowed from the Nazis, who developed it for their incomplete aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin. The first Seiran flew in 1943, and production started in 1944. Two trainers, designated M6A1-K Nanzan (“South Mountain”) were constructed, with hand-cranked landing gear replacing the floats.

-One of the two M6A1-K , designated “Jake” by the US. | Photo: Unkown

The M6A1 were organized into the Shinryuu Tokubetsukougeki-tai (“God-Dragon Special Attack Squad”), and commenced training to attack the locks on the Panama Canal, which would cut American supply lines. The plan was for the I-400 and I-401 to be joined by two smaller subs, the I-13 and I-14, which would be modified to carry two Seirans each, and attack the Gatun locks on the Atlantic side, as this would maximize the damage. Crews trained on a full-scale wooden mockup of the locks, with training concluded on 20 June 1945. The aircraft were painted with false US markings and the subs were set to sail when the Allies captured Okinawa.

The loss of Okinawa resulted in the attack on Panama being canceled, and the sub’s target was changed to Ulithi atoll, where the US Navy was massing in preparation for attacks on the Home islands. The Seirans would be tasked with making Kamikaze runs on the Allied ships. The I-400 and -401 would then sail for Hong Kong to take on additional aircraft to continue raiding Allied warships. The Emperor ordered surrender before the attacks could commence, and the M6As, without wings or tails, were catapulted into the ocean in accordance with orders to disarm.

-The Smithsonian’s Seiran undergoing restoration in 1998. | Photo: Brandon W. Smith

One Seiran was surrendered to US forces by Lt Kazuo Akatsuka of the Imperial Japanese Navy, who ferried it from Fukuyama to Yokosuka. After examining the airplane, the Navy placed it in storage, and eventually donated it to the Smithsonian in 1962. Restoration work on the Seiran began in June 1989 and was completed in February 2000, when it was placed on display at the Air & Space Museum. The M6A was moved to the Udvar-Hazy Center, where it remains today.

-Color orthograph of the M6A1, showing the wings and tail folded. | Graphic: Pintrest

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asongstress1422 · 7 years

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Drinking Game

For day 14 of Zutara month. Please check out my AO3!

“Zuko?” Katara’s voice echoed through the house as she replaced the spare key back above the door, the movement awkward in her overstuffed parka. She entered closing and locking it behind her. “Zuko? Did you forget we were carpooling tonight? Are you even ready?” A cursory look around his living room confirmed that he wasn’t there. Pausing she listened for the sound of a shower. Nothing. Annoyed now she marched for his bedroom. “Are you even awake?”

She shoved open his bedroom door ready to drag him out by his hair. She was not going to be late to the rehearsal dinner because someone wasn’t going to get out of bed in time. The room was a mess. Clothes strewn everywhere, take out boxes and dirty dishes, empty bottles. The room smelled like a weak-old kitchen trash, stale beer and the noxious scent of vomit. Lovely.

“Zuko!” She hissed, picking her way through the minefield of a room to his bed. She watched as a roll of blankets tumbled off the edge of the mattress and landed with louder thunk then their weight warranted.

Zuko’s head popped up from the side. “Yeah, what… Katara?” He blinked several times holding a hand over his left eye, trying to bring her in focus. “What are you doing here?”

“We were supposed to drive to the rehearsal together, remember?”

“Yeah, but that’s on Thursday.”

“Guess what today is, Genus.”

He sat there staring at her for a long minute then, blinking owlishly, turned to his clock. Reading the time he burst into movement. “Shit!”

“Zuko! Pants!” Katara screeched turning her back and blushing as he untangled himself from the blanket cocoon.

“Shit!” He cursed again, diving for a discarded pair of boxers and almost concussing himself when he caught his foot and ended shoulder checking the wall. All the movement caused his head to spin and simultaneously feel like to was about to split open. Cradling it between his hands he pressed. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Zuko, are you alright?” she asked reaching for him, concerned at his state of unkept. For a man who was usually fastidious about his appearance he looked a wreck.

He warded her off, stumbling from the petri dish he called a room, towards the main body of the house. “Yeah. Peaches. Nothing some coffee and a shower won’t fix.”

“Water first.” She harped following him. “We don’t need to add another drug into your system before we flush some of the old out.”

He ignored her, shoveling grounds into the machine.

“We don’t have time for this.” She filled a glass with water shoved it into his hands and hip checked him out of the way of the coffee maker, taking the pot to the sink to fill with water. “Drink that, get in the shower, and I’ll bring you a cup when it's ready. If we are not out of here in twenty-five minutes I will kill you to explain my absence.”

“We’ll get there. Besides you can’t kill the best man two days before the wedding.”

She shot him a harried look as she poured water in the percolator, “try me.”

Deciding it was in his best interest to remain quiet at this time, at least until his head stop pounding, he downed the glass on his way to the shower.

Five minutes later there was knock on the bathroom door that jerked him from his semi comatose state. “Zuko, coffee’s ready.” The door opened a crack and she called in. “Are you almost done?”

“Yes. Go away.”

“Do you have a towel?”

“Yes.” He poured shampoo in his hand and scrubbed it in his scalp.

“Did you finish that water?”

“Yes! Now leave me alone.”

He heard the door close. Sighing he ran his head under the spray and nearly blinded himself on top of slipping when he heard the sink tap turn on. “Katara, what are you doing? Get out of here.” Her slightly distorted shape moved closer to the shower frosted curtain. Her hand shoved around the thin sheet of plastic with another full glass of water. “Good god, I am in the shower!”

“I know that. Take the glass.”

“No. Go away.”

“Take the fucking glass, Zuko!” Startled he grabbed the glass. Katara never cursed. The hand retreated for a moment only to reappear. “Ibuprofen.”

“Thanks.” He popped the pills as her image moved away.

“Eighteen minutes.” She said pulling the door closed behind her.

Back in the kitchen Katara began rummaging in the cupboard. She needed to shove down his throat to help soak up whatever alcohol was left in his system and help balance out his blood sugar levels. She unearthed a jar of peanut butter and a partial jar of strawberry jam in the door of the fridge but no bread. Grumbling under her breath she went back to rummaging. When was the last time he went to the store? In the back of the free standing pantry behind boxes of expired hamburger helper she found a unopened box of saltines. As it was either stuff the peanut butter and jelly into uncooked pasta shells or the ancient forgotten crackers, she opted that the extra sodium would help. Setting about she made a dozen little cracker sandwiches.

Hearing the shower turn off she pulled down a mug and filled it with coffee adding a teaspoon of sugar and, after a cursory sniff of the pint, a haft splash of milk. She debated making a cup for herself, just for the taste, but decided she actually wanted to sleep tonight.

Taking coffee and pb&j’s she met Zuko as he was leaving the bathroom a towel around his hips.

“Oh thank god.” He grabbed the coffee and downed at least half of it in one go. He eyed the palate. “What are those?”

“Mini sandwich crackers.” She held the palt under his nose. “Eat them.”

He looked at them suspiciously before marching back to his room. “I’m good.”

She followed harping at him. “You need food. Dinner’s not being served til seven, and knowing how long winded Sokka is it might not be til seven-thirty. Besides that I don’t want to be trapped in a car with you for an hour when you're in this kind of mood.”

“I’m not in a mood. Now if you would please excuse me I need to get dressed in under ten minutes or this nut bag of a woman, who broke into to my house, is going to flip out on me.”

“I didn’t break in . I used the spare key.” She said one hand on hip the other holding out the plate of mini sandwiches. “Eat the crackers.”

“You entered without my permission or my knowledge. What is that but breaking in?”

“Checking on a friend.” She waggled the plate causing the crackers to slide back and forth in offering.

“So you wanna play it that way, hu? Fine.” He dropped the towel.

“You are impossible,” she growled slamming out of the room with the plate, face red.

Ignoring her little tantrum he turned to his chest of drawers pulling out a new set of boxers. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to drive her to this thing. He would have had to go anyway. It wasn’t often one of your best friends got married. But dear god what possessed him to agree to drive Katara as well?

He dressed in white dress shirt tan slacks and a grey tie. His suit for the wedding was still at the dry cleaners. He had meant to pick it up on Monday, but things had gone downhill so quickly. Had he really shut himself up for four days? He didn’t even remember a lot of it. Judging by the refuse in his room, he was going to be paying for it with more than just a splitting headache.

I should have just rented a car , Katara thought bouncing on her toes watching the second hand make its sixth rotation after the hour. She was going to kill Zuko.

Finally she heard his door open.

“We have to leave now. ” She said turning to him. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. His hair was still damp but brushed back from his face and in a semi-formal tie and button-up he looked a thousand times better than what she had walked in half hour before.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready.” He said shoving his wallet into his back pocket and sliding on his coat. He gestured to the door. “After you.” He locked up behind her and they made their way to the garage.

“When did you stop drinking?” She asked shoving her hands in her jacket pockets. His apartment had been cold but nothing compared to the biting chill of the parking structure.

“What?”

“What time did you have your last drink?”

“I don’t know, sometime this morning? Why?” He clicked the button on his key and the car flashed and made a small whooping noise as it unlocked, grating at his skull.

“What was it?”

He opened the car door and stared at her over the roof. “Why are you asking?”

“How long were you drinking last night?”

“I don’t know, the majority. Why do you want to know?”

“The likelihood of you still being intoxicated is high. I want to drive.” She held out her hand.

“Katara, I’m fine. Get in the car.”

“No.”

“Katara, stop being ridiculous. Get in the car, we’re going to be late.”

She stormed around the car to get into his face. “I am not being ridiculous.”

Her mother was killed by a drunk driver when she and Sokka had both been kids. He knew that, damn it. “I know. I’m sorry. But I am okay to drive.”

“Not from what I can see. From the state for your room you're on a several day bender. Judging that you didn’t even know what day it was, you've been blackout drinking at least part of the time. You are letting me drive or I am finding a different ride and if you try to drive I am calling the police.” He stared at her in shock her hand held out for the keys. “I’d rather miss the rehearsal then miss the wedding because some jerk-bender crashed his car.”

“I’m fine.” He ground out slamming the key ring into her hand and moving around to the passenger seat.

“I’m sure you are. Prove it to me tonight and I’ll let you drive home.” She started the car and it hummed. She buckled up and readjusted all his mirrors before backing out.

“If you put one scratch in my car, I’m coming after you.”

He grumbled his way through her city driving, how she coasted to every light even when it was yellow and actually went the speed limit. “Wanna hurry it up, grandma? The way your driving we won't arrive till the actual wedding.”

“ This is why I wanted you to eat something. You turn into a prick when you're hungry. And I’m guessing your hungover-hungry is ten times worse.” She tapped her break when a car jetted into her lane.

“You can’t let them get in front of you!” He groused.

“They can get in front of me all they want as long as they don’t hit me. I hate driving in the city, there are too many people.” She held the wheel in a death grip. “I packed those cracker sandwiches in my purse.”

“I don’t want them. On your left.” He pointed out and she slowed to let the car in. “I just said you can’t let them get in front of you!”

“And I saID TO EAT THE DAMN CRACKERS AND SHUT UP!”

After another ten minutes of wanderer her way through the city she finally hit the freeway and just the beginning lag of rush hour. Another fifteen minutes and it saw them out of the city. She finally punched the accelerator and hit a cruising speed she was comfortable with when the traffic died down.

Another five minutes and he was digging in her purse.

“In the side compartment,” she directed. “There’s a water bottle in there for you too.” A few more minutes passed, the crunch of crackers and an occasional sip of water the only sound.

“Do you want to talk about it?” About why he was in his apartment surrounded by trash and so out of it he forgot his best friend's rehearsal dinner that he was an intricate part of.

Zuko was staring out the window, little baggie of peanut butter and jelly crackers in hand. “Nope.”

She nodded and turned her full attention back to the road.

“We wouldn’t be late if you weren’t such a grandma on the road,” he snipped skipping up the front steps of the hotel.

“No, we wouldn’t be late if you were dressed and ready like you were supposed to be,” she reprimanded a half step behind him. He held the door open as she sailed into the lobby.

The decor was gold, red and cream. Muted enough not to be garish and helped a certain amount of sophisticated charm with its three tier chandelier and granite water feature. There were other people milling about. The attached restaurant across the way seemed packed and the bar lounge was doing a steady business.

“Hold up,” Katara said latching onto his arm as she balanced on one foot to adjust the strap of her shoe.

“And you blame me for not being ready,” he growled even as he steadied her.

She rolled her eyes fighting with her shoe. She had kicked off her orthopedic sneakers and scrub bottoms in the car to reveal black tights and to slip into sparkly heeled sandals.

“Zuko?” The voice brought him up short. He turned slowly hopping again everything that it wasn’t who he thought it was. A woman in an elegant black evening dress was gliding towards them.

“Mai, what are you doing here?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m best friends with the bride and the maid of honor, of course I’m going to be here Zuko.”

“O-of course. I’m sorry. How are you?” He stuttered, trying for cordial.

“Fine.” The one word was a knife to his heart.

“That’s… good.”

Katara looked between the two. “I’ll check in in Ty Lee to see if there's anything she needs help with,” she said before disappearing into the room.

“Is she your date?” Mai asked.

“No, I just drove her. I’m not like you.” He couldn’t help the cutting remark.

Mai sighed. “We both know that our relationship wasn’t working for a long time now. Don’t blame me for finding happiness.”

Zuko snorted. “Where is Lee now?”

“He had work. He’ll be here for the ceremony Sunday.”

The words scourged his soul. Five years down the drain just like that. Yes, they fought. Yes, they spent more time apart these days then together both focusing on their carriers. But she was his first love and the reality that she had someone waiting in the wings hurt him deeply.

“Don’t you think that will cause talk?”

“You know I’ve never cared about what others think. I’ve told Suki and Ty Lee, and now I’ve told you so you can make a decision on how you want to proceed.”

“What if I don’t want him to come?”

“Then that’s you prerogative.”

“But it won't change anything thing.”

“No.” The stood in the silence of their shared history. Both of them stubborn to a fault, nearly always unwilling to bend.

“I won’t like him,” Zuko said petulantly.

“You would it you gave him a chance,” her face softened as she thought about him. “He makes me smile.”

“I made you smile.”

“Yes,” she looked at him, eyes serious once more. “But I never tried to make you smile. I try with Lee. I was selfish in our relationship, you were there and you were safe and I knew you would never leave me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, no Zuko.” She wasn’t the best at getting her emotions out into words but she was making a real effort now. “But it was not fair to you. If I felt angry, I took it out on you. If I was sad, I took it out on you. We fell into that routine and we were making each other miserable. I hated what I was doing but I just couldn’t seem to stop. Then I met Lee--”

“And he swept you off your feet. Yes you told me.” He turned away, wanting this conversation to be done.

She stopped him. “And I learned I needed a clean slate. I didn’t need past guilt constantly hanging over me. That every time I was with you I was beating myself up over hurting you, and that would make me angry and I would blame you and the cycle would start again.”

“I had been planning on breaking up with you for a while but I couldn’t think of a way that wouldn’t hurt you.”

“So you decided jumping into another man’s arms was the right choice?”

“No, I decided that it was going to hurt anyway I went about it and I just needed to stop dragging it on and do it. We both deserve much better than what we were giving each other.”

“All I want to do is dig into you to make you feel how I’m feeling right now but we’re at our best friend's wedding and it’s not right.”

“You’re right. I only meant to let you know I would be brining a date and I’ve done that. When you want to talk, let me know.”

“I think you’ve said everything that needs to be said. You broke my heart to protect me, great.”

Mai sighed. “I can see you’re in one of your moods again.”

“One of my moods, what-- No, no, I’m not doing this. I hope you have a wonderful life and everything works out great for you and Lee. I just-- I got to go.”

He turned and fled into the crowd. He was making a beeline for the bar when Sokka caught him.

“Katara said you were here!” Sokka wrapped both arms around his best and gave him a bone crushing hug.

“Yeah, sorry we’re late.”

“No trouble. Suki’s parents are running a bit behind so we were holding dinner for them.” He squeezed his shoulder. “She told me about you and Mai. That’s rough buddy.”

“Don’t worry about me, this is your and Suki’s big night. Speaking of Suki, where is the bride to be?”

“In the corner talking girl stuff with her generals. If dad ever needs to get foreign diplomats to follow his tune he should just send that group after them and it would be done in a trice. Come on, she wants to say hello.”

It was the end of the night, the dinner guests of family and friends saying their final goodbyes until the big day two days hence, when Katara slid onto the bar stool next to him. “I thought we had a deal.”

He held out the car keys he tipped his glass to his lips. Without a word she took them setting them on the counter in front of her. She smiled at the bar tender when he came over to see what she wanted to drink.

“I pitcher of water, no ice, and two shot glasses. Oh, and,” she stole the half full whisky tumbler from Zuko and handed it over, “get rid of that, please.”

The man nodded and filed off to fill her order.

“That was my drink,” Zuko said with little inflection, resting his head on his hand. He was pleasantly warm and his headache was all but forgotten.

“I’m cutting you off,” she smiled again as the bartender test down the pitcher and two shot glasses.

“Water?”

“Well your inebriated enough for the both of us.” She picked up the pitcher, filling both glasses. “I need to get up early tomorrow for my shift, so coffees out. You know my stance on soda and we just ate our weight in wedding fare. So, yeah, water.” She pushed one glass his way. “Though it we ask really nice Mr. Barkeep might be able to find us some decaffeinated tea.”

“Uncle would kill us,” Zuko said as he down took the shot making her laughed like he meant her too.

“Yes he would.” They traded taking shots for a few minutes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zuko’s dark mood threatened to roll back up. “Do you want to talk why you and Aang broke up.” He downed his shot, now wishing for something stronger.

“He wanted to change me into who he thought I was and I was tempted to let him.” She downed her shot. “Your turn.”

“Mai found someone new and told me dumping me was for my own good.” He poured.

“Was it?” She tossed down her next shot

About to take his shot, he paused. “What?”

“Was her breaking up with you good for you? Because I can see it was good for Mai. She seems… calmer. Less quick with the put downs. She actually made a joke with me over the duck entree.”

He set down the glass still full. “I don’t know. She had a lot of points but I’m too drunk and too tired to think about them. All I do not is that I’m hurt.”

“That’s going to last a while. I was the one that finally ended things with Aang and it hurt for months but I knew it was the right decision. I still love the guy but I knew if I stayed I would have killed him. And I’m still not sure if I mean that figuratively or not.” Katara poured herself another and downed it hand still on the pitcher. “I’m going to go use the restroom. We can drop the conversation if you want or I’ll be there to listen the whole ride back, your choice.” She slid of the stoll placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you have friends, Zuko, that care deeply for you and going off the deep end is not okay.”

“I know, I know.” He smirked. “Mom Katara to the rescue again.”

She mocked glared. “Don’t make me sick Ty Lee on you.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Thanks, Katara.”

She smile. “I’ll meet you in the Lobby.”

#mine #zutara month 2017 #zutara #zutara fanfiction #fanfic #ao3

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