In YorktownCV-5's work,the final moment of the Hornet are :
Northampton's side
In the battle of the Santa Cruz Islands, Northampton was positioned ahead of the Hornet's defensive perimeter. Perhaps it was only then that they truly realized what the I-19 attack had meant for this fleet—the absence of North Carolina had left them without a crucial anti-aircraft assistant. When facing the combined assault of enemy bombers and torpedo planes, the belated arrival of fighter planes only made matters worse. Soon, fierce airstrike came as expected. Hornet was directly crippled by torpedo hits, losing even the power needed for communication and self-rescue.
No one present wanted to see the tragedy of Yorktown repeated, and rescue and evacuation efforts for her began almost in an instant. Three Sims-class destroyers fought fires alongside Hornet, while Northampton prepared steel cables and attached them to Hornet's anchor chain.
Hornet was so terribly heavy.Northampton firstly struggled to pick up speed to 4 knots, but then the steel cable snapped with a "snap" and fell into the sea. Hornet felt both apologetic and helpless, abled only to assist Northampton in reattaching it. This time, on the foam-covered deck, the steel cable was run from the elevator shaft all the way to the other side, and gripped again by Northampton.
As time ticked by, and enemy attack could appear at any moment—they came flying like bats, wantonly reaping lives. Three hours later, a group of torpedo planes appeared on the horizon again. To perform evasive maneuvers, Northampton had no choice but to let go and return to her station. However, Hornet had already become the enemy's most coveted prey; within half an hour, she suffered new wounds from torpedoes and bombs. After careful consideration, Commander Murray issued the order to abandon ship from Pensacola. Northampton's heart ached as if pierced by a knife. Perhaps death could not shake her, but no one understood better than her Hornet's fervent fighting spirit.
Hornet's acceptance of the military order was far from calm. She complained, screamed, and then began to plead. Even the destroyers who had grown up playing with her could not help but lower their heads softly, silently taking on the surviving crew. Northampton stepped forward to embrace her little girl one last time, their long golden hair falling to hide their faces. Now all of Hornet's resistance quieted down. She looked at Northampton longingly, even though she knew full well what she would say. "Hush... stop crying, dear," Northampton's voice was barely a whisper. "Sleep peacefully... your fight will be continued by us."
She kissed the Hornet on the forehead, stood up, and said goodbye to her. She wished so much that this could bring some comfort to the little one, yet she dared not look back for another glance. The fleet gradually sailed southeast, leaving only Mustin to stand guard. What Northampton did not know, however, was that the Hornet had not heeded her words and fallen into a deep sleep. She gazed in the direction the fleet had departed, sorrow still lingering in her heart. "Thank you, Nora," she murmured to herself. "But after all..."
Anderson's side:
In the roar of aircraft engines and the blasts of exploding shells, the concepts of space and time became blurred. Shooting skyward had long since become instinct through training, and the explosions had left her numb. Under the fleet's protection, Hornet was still penetrated; she was still hit multiple times by bombs, still pinned in place by torpedoes, unable to move on the sea. Anderson was dazed by the ringing in her ears, and Morris and Barton's calls seemed so distant. Through round after round of air raids, Hornet's will to survive tugged at everyone's heartstrings, yet the pessimistic Anderson, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, showed no expression. Order to abandon ship reached the fleet; her legs felt as if they had lead weighing dozens of tons, and she barely heard Mustin calling her to rescue crew members in the water.
Mustin took over as flagship from Morris, ordered to go and give Hornet the final send-off. She knew what she was about to do, just as Phelps and Lansdowne had done before, but her hand trembled uncontrollably with her sobs. At such close range, she missed with half her torpedoes—Hornet stubbornly refused to die, which made Mustin cry even more helplessly. She cast a pleading look toward Anderson beside her.
Without hesitation, Anderson fired her torpedoes, and they all struck home. She thought she was prepared for this ending, that once it was all over she would find release, but after the water columns fell and beneath the shocking wounds, the calm she had anticipated still did not come—Hornet's unwilling gaze still met hers. Anderson knew that just months before, both she and Hornet had been children who feared war. Though war had cruelly taken some lives, it had also tempered resilient hearts. Hornet's hoarse voice broke the silence: "Andy… you have to tell me, did I disappoint my elder sisters terribly?"
Anderson's grief finally broke through her heart's walls, bursting into tears. For every fallen soldier, perhaps their last wish was to hold on a little longer. Yorktown was one, O'Brien was another. Their deaths were not the end for the living, but the beginning of revenge. "You clearly remember Yorktown's last words I brought you last time. Never doubt yourself. She—and Enterprise—they both love you."
Hornet finally calmed down, quietly awaiting the end in the deepening night. Anderson returned to Enterprise's main force, gently cradling Hornet's cap in her hands.
