Butterfly Effects and Battleship Defects
The Altered Naval Battles of the Second World War (BATTLE LORE)
Make sure you have read Devil in the Details before reading this post, which goes through the major altered naval battles of the Post-Shift, Pre-Departure Timeline.
We Have Engaged The Boche
Ahead of the planned invasion of Poland, the High Command of the Kriegsmarine (Oberkommando der Marine) dispatched the panzerschiffe (technically large heavy cruisers but dubbed pocket battleships by the press), Admiral Graf Spee, and Moltke to the South Atlantic. As soon as hostilities commence, they attack British and French shipping as individual but mutually supporting raiders.
However, the Allies do not sit idly by, and a game of cat and mouse rages for weeks until the three ships of Commodore Henry Harwood’s Force G—light cruisers Ajax and Achilles, and heavy cruiser Exeter—catch the slower Graf Spee on the morning of December 13.
The captain of Graf Spee, Hans Langsdorf, immediately realizes that his ship is in danger of being run down in an extended chase. He does not have the speed to flee; the British cruisers can skirt around him and fell his command with a thousand cuts. However, the Kapitän zur See has an ace up his sleeve—Moltke is just a hundred miles away. The two ships could kill or cripple the British cruisers without incurring much damage and then escape before heavier Allied units could arrive. Langsdorf signals Konteradmiral Oskar Kummetz on Moltke, asking for aid. The reply is immediate, “I shall close to you, do the same. We shall smash them once joined.”
Moltke and Graf Spee steam toward each other at 30 and 28 knots, respectively, closing the distance in about two hours. The British are none the wiser until a smudge of oily smoke rises on the horizon and the newer, faster, and more heavily armored “pocket battleship” presents itself. The table turns on Harwood in a matter of minutes. His speed advantage is cut in half instantly, and his plan to split the fire of Graf Spee by splitting Exeter off from Ajax and Achilles is made worthless. Harwood’s force is in immediate danger of being overwhelmed and annihilated by the two super cruisers—his only shield is speed, and that is something that the temperamental South Atlantic can take off him in the blink of an eye.
Harwood gambles with the last move left—he plays the same trick that the Germans had played on him and hopes that there would be someone waiting for him over the horizon. He tacks northwest at his best speed. At this point, Exeter is in a bad way, having received multiple hits from the 11-inch shellfire. She is beginning to list as her final operational turret disappears beneath a jet of flame—but she keeps up her top speed as Harwood, aboard Ajax, and Achilles haul around and begin to lay smoke to cover the beleaguered diminutive heavy cruiser. The Panzerschiffe switch fire to the light cruisers, and the dark waters are turned to a froth mix of white columns of churned water as the ships weave between shells at high speed, belching black clouds in the cloudless day.
Just as an 11-inch hit smashes into his flagship, Harwood sees smoke on the horizon. Part of his mind fears that it is yet another German raider. Someone in the crow’s nest shouts, “THANK FUCKING GOD! THEY’VE GOT WHITE PENNANTS FLYING!”
It is Force M—under the personal command of Vice Admiral George Lyons, CINC-South Atlantic—with the large heavy cruiser Defence, heavy cruiser Devonshire, and light cruiser Neptune. They have sprinted to the sound of guns. Defence has pushed her machinery to the very limit, exceeding her trial speed by three and one-quarter knots. The older Devonshire struggled to keep up with the homely “Ten-Year Fool.” The odds have swung sharply again, and now the Germans are faced with stark odds; they can neither outrun nor out-fight the combined might of the two cruiser forces.
Before Kummetz and Langsdorf can act, the massive cruiser steams headlong at the Germans, turning a textbook pursuit into a brutal, bare-knuckle bar brawl. She passes the crippled Exeter hidden by her own gunsmoke. Her first salvo brackets the newer Moltke as Ajax, Achilles, and Neptune begin to rain 6-inch shells upon Graf Spee, with some particularly dreadful shooting by Devonshire mostly providing ambiance. Defence strikes Moltke on her third salvo, beginning a deluge of 8-inch hits from her sixteen-gun main battery. While the other cruisers flit around the panzerschiffe like matadors, the large cruiser draws the attention of both Germans. The overbuilt Defence shrugs off the Germans’ 11-inch replies with ease—taking twenty-six hits, but not a one penetrates her armor.
Kummetz signals a withdrawal to Montevideo after the ugly Anglo super cruiser lands seven hits from a single salvo on his flagship. The British permit the Germans to quit the field. This is no act of mercy; Admiral Lyons merely gives the Germans more rope to hang themselves from—as steaming to his aid is Force K with two battlecruisers (St. Vincent and Renown), an aircraft carrier (Ark Royal), and three more heavy cruisers (Dorsetshire, Cumberland, Shropshire).
Arriving in Montevideo, the Germans take stock of their ships. A hit from Exeter has knocked out Graf Spee’s fuel purification plant. This means the ship cannot process its fuel stores into workable diesel made even worse by the fact her fuel bunkers had been pierced and mostly emptied. There is also the matter of Devonshire's sole contribution—a dud shell that pierced the left gun barrel in Graf Spee’s aft main battery mount. On the other hand, Moltke has not received any significant damage, thanks to her thicker armor. However, she has lost most of her secondary armament and suffered immense damage to her upper works—she enters Montevideo harbor with a scrap heap instead of a superstructure.
The British Embassy in Montevideo immediately starts purchasing all possible spare parts and diesel fuel to deny any resources to the Germans, even before they arrive in the harbor. The Axis ships are notionally limited to 72 hours in the neutral port, but that clock is set back 24 hours by any British or French flagged-vessel departing. The British use this loophole to force the Germans to remain in port. The Embassy also makes liberal use of unencrypted signals purporting to herald the arrival of Force K. Kummetz rejects the intercepts as false. He makes it clear that he intends to fight his way home or die in the attempt; a particularly nasty jibe about using Graf Spee as bait to give him the opportunity to punch through the British blockade sees Langsdorf depart Moltke without another word.
On the morning of December 18, the pair of Germans ships sally from Montevideo. Moltke makes a break for the open ocean and home. Graf Spee, with what fuel she has left, breaks for Buenos Aires, as Argentina would be unlikely to allow the British to pick her apart after being interned, something that could not be said of Uruguay.
They do not make it far.
Just one and a half hours after leaving Uruguay, a flight of five Fairey Swordfish torpedo bombers intercept Graf Spee as it limps along. The damaged ship barely has enough fuel to maneuver. One torpedo strikes her port side, which tears a gash into the ship and bursts the hasty patches on three underwater shell-hits from Action on December 13. Things get worse for Graf Spee as she loses steering and beaches on the Uruguayan coast 80 miles west of Montevideo. Langsdorf sees the crew evacuated and oversees the preparations to scuttle the ship. He remains aboard as the ship’s half-emptied magazines are detonated with scuttling charges.
Moltke, on the other hand, steams directly into the greatest concentration of British naval power South of Gibraltar. The battlecruisers St. Vincent and Renown both have the speed to run down the 30-knot panzerschiff and are also armed with the improved long BL 15”/50 Mk II gun. They are backed by three light cruisers (Ajax, Achilles, and Neptune), three heavy cruisers (Dorsetshire, Cumberland, Shropshire), a large cruiser (Defence), and a fleet carrier (Ark Royal). The panzerschiff has less than no chance. It is not a fight. It is an execution. St. Vincent’s third salvo hits Moltke’s forward triple turret twice. The ship disappears from view. Miles away, the crew of the Graf Spee watches another mushroom cloud unfurl upwards to the heavens on the horizon.
First blood in the war at sea had been drawn.
Curbstomp the Bismarck!
On May 18, 1941, the Kriegsmarine launches its largest surface raid of the war, code-name RHEINÜBUNG. Under the command of Vizeadmiral Günther Lütjens, the new battleship Bismarck sorties with two heavy cruisers (Admiral Hipper and Seydlitz), two panzerschiff (Mackensen and Lützow), and an aircraft carrier-surface raider-storeship (Graf Zeppelin).
Seydlitz joins the mission to appease Lütjen’s concerns that the force lacks mass. OKM considers adding the recently returned panzerschiff Admiral Scheer to the force, but it is decided that, like the working-up battleship Tirpitz, she would not be ready in time to deploy ahead of the invasion of the Soviet Union, Operation BARBAROSSA. Graf Zeppelin, though notionally an aircraft carrier, joins the raid without any aircraft as a surface combatant armed with sixteen 15cm guns and a storeship. Her aviation fuel tanks are filled with maritime diesel for the panzerschiffe, and her main hangar is filled with two thousand barrels of fuel oil, eight hundred rounds of 15cm and 20.3cm shells in crates, and 150 tons of additional dry stores. What few aircraft were ready to embark aboard the ship—intended for scouting—were withheld by the Luftwaffe after OKM did not think to ask for permission to use the carrier’s air wing personally from Hermann Göring.
The operation starts badly. The older panzerschiff Lützow runs aground while entering Grimstadfjord near Bergen. She is left behind. She is eventually freed a few days later after three failed air attacks by RAF Blenheims and limps back to Kiel for yet another period of repairs. On the same day as Lützow runs aground, May 21, Swedish sources inform the British Admiralty of a Nazi fleet movement: two cruisers and a battleship. Graf Zeppelin and Mackensen were delayed reaching Grimstadfjord and avoided being spotted by the coastal defense ship HSwMS Gotland. At this point, the battlecruisers HMS Hood and HMS Trafalgar, under Vice Admiral Lancelot Holland, are already steaming for the Denmark Strait with a half dozen destroyers to reinforce the heavy cruisers HMS Norfolk and HMS Suffolk, which are patrolling the passage. After the sortie is confirmed, Admiral Sir John Tovey, CINC of the Home Fleet, sails with the main body of the Home Fleet—the new battleship King George V, the refit Nelson-class battleship Drake, the new aircraft carrier Victorious along with five cruisers and six destroyers—further reinforced by HMS Repulse while they are underway. The Royal Navy’s other at-sea assets are put on high alert to cover nearby convoys—especially troop convoys—or join the hunt.
Norfolk spots the German task force on the evening of May 23 and is shocked to find their raiders in the company of a D-class panzerschiff and a carrier. Bismarck engages Suffolk after she ventures too close; both British cruisers retreat to the cover of nearby fogbanks, tracking the Germans via radar. The blast effect from this first engagement knocks out Bismarck’s radar. Lütjens orders Hipper to move ahead of the battleship to give radar coverage and detaches Mackensen and Seydlitz to force away their shadows so the main force can slink into the night.
There is a cat-and-mouse game in the dark as the two German cruisers try to force off their British observers, but Norfolk and Suffolk prove stubbornly difficult to catch or scare off. The pair of British cruisers, on either side of the raiding force, run circles around their pursuers and keep in radar contact as the Germans steam through the Strait.
In the early hours of the Morning of May 24, Hood and Trafalgar, with their escorts, arrive at a chaotic situation. The British cruisers are out of pocket, forced off station by the pursuit of Mackensen and Seydlitz. However, they are pushed right into the arms of the friendly battlecruisers while their pursuers stumble through the dawn’s early light. The British then proceed to stumble onto Bismarck just as Mackensen and Seydlitz cross the horizon to rejoin their compatriots.
There is no grace in the fight.
The British flagship, St. Vincent, assumes the lead ship (Hipper) is Bismarck, targeting her instead of the actual battleship; Hood avoids that mistake and engages the correct target. Norfolk and Suffolk start to fling 8-inch shells at Mackensen as soon as she and Seydlitz come into range. There is a cruiser melee between the battleship duel under grey skies and rough seas that makes the British destroyer advantage useless.
The British battlecruisers open fire first at 0552. They nominally possess a decisive firepower advantage over the Germans, with 20 large guns—twelve on Trafalgar and eight on Hood—against the German 8. However, due to the approach angle, Hood can only engage with A and B turret. Further, Hood is still armed with the older, shorter BL 15-inch Mark I as the ship had been denied a long-needed refit due to dockyard availability, high demand for fast capital units in the ‘30s, and the Treasury’s tight hold of the purse strings.
The ragged Mighty Hood lands the first hit of the day on Bismarck, and will eventually land two more. This first impact tears a massive hole in the German’s bow and pierces her forward fuel tanks, slowing the battlewagon and making her leave an oil slick. The German lands its first strike on Trafalgar soon after—after a delay caused by Admiral Lütjens refusing to give permission to fire—utterly obliterating one of Traf’s six-inch secondaries and starting a large fire aft.
As Trafalgar maneuvers to allow Hood to open up with her entire battery, a plunging 15-inch shell strikes and penetrates the joint between the face and roof plates of her B Turret. A jet of flame is seen screaming up into the air, towering at least eight stories. A lookout aboard Suffolk, shielding his face from shell splinters from a near-miss by Seydlitz, happens to see what happens next: the three forward magazines of the largest capital ship in the Royal Navy detonate either simultaneously or in rapid succession so as to appear to be one low-single-digit kiloton explosion (estimates vary from 1.5 to 4 kilotons of TNT).
Hood is swallowed by the mushroom cloud rising up from where Trafalgar had been. When she does not immediately sail out from it, Norfolk's horrified executive officer shouts, “My God! That’s got th—they’re both [fucking] gone!” That is taken as gospel by the ship’s captain and cruiser group commander, Rear Admiral Frederic Wake-Walker; both turn to see nothing but smoke and ash. Norfolk accordingly reports the loss of Hood and Traflagar to the Home Fleet.
“TRAFALGAR AND HOOD LOST VERY LARGE DETONATION 6001 HOURS.”
After Hood finally sails out from the mushroom cloud, guns thundering, it takes about ten minutes for another message to be relayed to Scapa Flow, correcting the erroneous report. In the meantime, the first report bolts across the Royal Navy (and the United Kingdom) like lightning. In less than an hour, the news reaches Birkenhead, where the battleship Prince of Wales is being re-outfitted, despite notionally being completed on April 7 after a fault was detected in her aft turret’s shell hoists. Her crew makes her ready to sail—without orders, without the left-most gun in Y turret, and a sizeable complement of Cammell Laird shipwrights still aboard. She gets orders to join the pursuit, “if possible,” as she is pushing off from her berth. She makes a shocking 29.5 knots while catching up to Rodney, who had been detached from convoy duty to join the hunt (damaging her boilers in the process).
Hood, Norfolk, and Suffolk are on the backfoot with the loss of Trafalgar. The mighty battlecruiser receives six 15-inch, five 11-inch, and six 8-inch hits; one 15-inch round wrecks her X (aft super-firing) turret. Suffolk and Norfolk savage Mackensen for only modest damage in return; the panzerschiff’s forward triple turret resembles Swiss cheese more than a gun mount. However, now outgunned and outnumbered, the British lay smoke and withdraw.
With Bismarck leaking large amounts of fuel and Mackensen badly damaged, Lütjens decides to disengage and steam for Brest over the objections of Bismarck’s captain, Ernst Lindemann, who wanted to finish off Hood and head for Bergen. Hipper and Seydlitz detach to carry on the raid. There was some consternation on the battleship over whether to send Graf Zeppelin with the cruisers or keep it with the battleship; Lütjens would make the fateful decision to keep the carrier with Bismarck in the hope that she could used to refuel the battleship in an emergency (something Lindemann believed would be a fool’s errand) and permit her to have a straight shot to the safety of Brest as opposed to try its luck with avoiding the British with the cruisers.
In the intervening hours, Hood prods and engages the Germans a few times before being forced back when Bismarck doubles back and closes to merge—a move to cover the departure of the cruisers. In the small hours of May 25, nine Swordfish torpedo bombers from Victorious, vectored in by Norfolk, make an attack on the battleship. One torpedo hits home on Bismarck, to little appreciable effect, the ship’s torpedo defense system doing its job.
Later that morning, the British lose contact with the Germans, and believing that he is still being shadowed, Lütjens sends a long radio message to OKM updating them on his situation, which the British use to triangulate his approximate position which confirms that he is on course for France.
The Home Fleet continues to close. Tovey's main force (King George V, Drake, Repulse, and Victorious) is reinforced by Rodney and Prince of Wales while Force H sails north from its position off Gibraltar with battlecruisers Renown and St. Vincent—Trafalgar’s sister ship—and the fleet carriers Ark Royal and Agincourt. Hood remains in the pursuit despite the damage dealt by Bismarck. The noose draws close even as the British fuel situation becomes critical; several destroyers are sent home, and replacement escorts are pulled from nearby convoys in a game of musical chairs. Yet, it appears as if the Bismarck might be able to escape as she briefly loses its cruiser shadows until an RAF Catalina spots the battleship.
Ark Royal and Agincourt—the largest aircraft carrier in the world—ready a Hail Mary night strike to sink—or at least delay—the two Nazi capital ships. Ark Royal launches 15 Swordfish, Agincourt launches 25. The first strike almost goes disastrously wrong when the Fleet Air Arm aviators attack Sheffield, the closest Royal Navy shadow. They fail to hit the cruiser—in large part due to the failure of the magnetic detonators on their aerial torpedoes. The two carriers relaunch their aircraft, but this time, Agincourt dispatches 30 of her 36 torpedo bombers. The canvas tide descends on Lütjens in fits and starts attacking in small packets for over an hour.
Bismarck is struck thrice. Two hits have little effect, but one hits astern and jams her rudder. Unobserved by the British, however, is a catastrophic explosion aboard Graf Zeppelin, and the ship goes down with all but 54 of her 1853-man complement. There are two main theories as to what transpired. One, that an errant torpedo from the last Swordfish attack had missed Bismarck and struck the carrier-raider; or two, there was a shell handling incident in the ship’s main hangar set off of the stores located there. The 1987 discovery of Graf Zeppelin by Robert Ballard—during his search for the Bismarck—would reveal a torpedo impact aft and the front quarter of the ship bowed outward by a massive internal explosion, therefore failing to settle the debate.
Bismarck is doomed. The entire British battle force readies for the final kill, including St. Vincent and Renown prematurely breaking off from Ark Royal and Agincourt. Repulse is dangerously low on fuel; her captain continues, fully understanding that his ship is likely to run out of fuel on the way back to port. Hood rejoins the Home Fleet; Tovey is horrified to see her scarred form and the crooked barrels hanging from her X turret.
Lütjens signals Berlin with his situation, “SHIP UNMANOEUVRABLE. ZEPPELIN BURNING AND ABANDONED. MACKENSEN TO PROCEED ALONE. WE WILL FIGHT TO THE LAST SHELL. LONG LIVE THE FÜHRER.”
In the night, British destroyers under Commodore Philip Vian make harrying attacks against the battleship but are confused to find a German carrier burning brilliantly and running in circles. Vian, aboard HMS Cossack, is recounted as saying, “Well, who the Hell did that? Because I’m bloody sure it wasn’t us!” upon seeing the ship blazing like a funeral pyre. Mackensen hobbles away into the night at a stately 26 knots toward France, slipping away from the British, who tunnel vision in on Bismarck. It will make it to Brest, but only after being attacked by several waves of torpedo and bomb-armed Swordfish, suffering several damaging hits on the way.
On the morning of May 27, Bismarck faces her doom.
Vengeance blows across the horizon like a spring storm as the Home Fleet arrives from the west with King George V, Prince of Wales, Drake, Rodney, Hood, and Repulse arrayed into a line of battle, white pennants flying in the morning sun.
Force H joins the action shortly after Rodney opens fire on Bismarck at 0847; Renown and St. Vincent close in from the north at their best possible speeds, nearly 31 knots. At this point, Admiral Tovey is in direct command of the greatest concentration of British naval power since Jutland (and the largest concentration of British capital surface combatants of the Second World War). He signals for Force H’s commander, Vice Admiral James Somerville, aboard St. Vincent to join the main line. Somerville replies two minutes later, still bearing down on the German on his original course.
“I CANNOT COMPLY. I AM ENGAGING!”
St. Vincent earns the sobriquet “St. Vengeance” as she closes to within 7,000 yards of the still operational German battleship. She lands entire 12-gun salvos into the body of the Bismarck time after time. Renown maintains her distance while the Home Fleet rains 15-inch and 16-inch shells on the German. Rodney, within 15 minutes, cripples the German with a single 16-inch hit; the shell impacts the back of Bismarck’s Bruno turret (forward super-firing), knocking it out—the explosion tears through the bridge, killing most senior officers, and knocking out the ship’s main fire control director.
As St. Vincent continues to close on Bismarck—the German shrouded by flames and her own gunsmoke—Tovey is said to have remarked, “Good God, does he intend to board her?!” The British land body-blow after body-blow. The German battlewagon is struck by no less than one thousand shells in less than an hour.
By 0933, the German battleship is burning from stem to stern and is listing heavily to port. She is out of action; her guns lay silent—left as twisted and contorted macabre sculptures of warped steel. Her Dora turret (aftmost) is shattered like a cracked-open skull, her armor plate torn away like tissue paper, and shell hoists exposed to seaspray. Most of her superstructure is completely shot away; what is left is shredded—one can look through Bismarck’s deckhouse by one of hundreds of new windows.
Tovey does not idle; with one last point-blank barrage delivered by St. Vincent and Rodney—including half a dozen 24.5-inch heavyweight torpedoes—he orders a withdrawal. The worst damage dealt to the British in this action has been dealt by their own hands—fratricidal blast effects from Rodney, Drake, and St. Vincent’s guns on their own fittings. The Home Fleet’s fuel situation is beyond critical. Repulse actually runs out of fuel off Devon and has to be towed into Bristol Harbor. Hood has empty fuel tanks when she arrives in Belfast; she remains there for immediate repairs before sailing for Halifax for her long-delayed refit, which will see her reconstructed along the lines of the Queen Elizabeth-class and HMS Renown. German air attacks damage the cruiser Sheffield and battleship Drake, but otherwise fail to repay the loss of Bismarck and Graf Zeppelin.
Mackensen reaches Brest in the small hours of May 28. Seydlitz and Hipper arrive in France on June 1; on their approach to France, the British submarine Pandora would hit Seydlitz with a single torpedo, adding yet another damaged ship to the laundry list of German naval assets bottled up in the French port.
The Bismarck has not just been sunk—it has been smote upon the water.
A Different Day of Infamy
The fateful morning of Sunday, December 7, 1941 finds the skies above Pearl Harbor filled with the aircraft of the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service. In total, some 428 aircraft launched from the carriers Akagi, Kii, Soryū, Hiryū, Shōkaku, Zuikaku, Shōhō, and Zuihō will take part. As for the rest of the IJN’s carriers, the old light carrier Hōshō is with the Main Body, ready to cover the escape of the Kido Butai; while the new conversions Hiei and Haruna and the light carrier Ryujō are sailing south with the 2nd Fleet to cover operations in the Southern Resource Area; and the conversions Kongō and Kirishima are still outfitting in Kure and Kobe.
The United States Pacific Fleet is caught completely flatfooted as swarms of Kates, Vals, and Zekes descend upon them. In a stroke of luck, only a single carrier is at anchor. USS Ranger (CV-4), the world’s largest purpose-built carrier, is pier-side at Repair Basin No. 2, waiting to enter the newly completed Dry Dock No. 2 to fix a damaged screw. The damage would spare another carrier, as USS Enterprise (CV-6), escorted by USS Shiloh (CB-8), had picked up Ranger’s assignment to deliver VMF-211 to Wake Island. USS Lexington (CV-2) with USS Bunker Hill (CC-6) are also on a milk run, delivering VMSB-231 to Midway. USS Saratoga (CV-3) is in San Diego after a refit in the Puget Sound Navy Yard. Yorktown (CV-5), Wasp (CV-7), Hornet (CV-8), and Franklin (CV-13) are in the Atlantic. The other two emergency carriers, Bonhomme Richard (CV-12) and Reprisal (CV-14) are outfitting at the New York Shipbuilding Corporation and Fore River Shipyard, respectively.
There is a bloodbath along Battleship Row. California (BB-44) is sunk by two bombs and two torpedoes. Five torpedos strike Oklahoma (BB-37), and she capsizes. Maryland (BB-46) is damaged by two bombs. West Virginia (BB-48) is sunk by two bombs and seven torpedoes. Tennessee (BB-43) is struck by two bombs. Arizona (BB-39) detonates after her forward magazine is pierced by a 1600-pound AP bomb. Washington (BB-47), alongside BB-39, remains barely afloat after two torpedoes and bomb hits; fires from BB-39 spread to the ship, but she remains afloat. Nevada (BB-36) gets underway despite taking six bombs and a torpedo and is beached to avoid blocking the Harbor’s entrance. With Nevada underway, Concord is struck from both sides, taking eight torpedoes and six bombs; with rapid flood from both sides, the battle cruiser avoids capsizing and merely settles on the bottom. However, Valley Forge is not so lucky—she is struck by a half a dozen bombs and five torpedoes along her port side in a close pattern. Despite the best efforts of her crew, she capsizes at mooring X-3.
USS Ranger (CV-4), a priority target like the Concords, is swarmed by D3A Vals, which land six bombs on the carrier, but her crew refuses to permit the ship to sink. The Japanese aviators also attack the ex-battleship Utah, capsizing her with two torpedoes and damaging the dry-docked USS Pennsylvania (BB-38) with two bombs.
The morning ends with four battleships and two battlecruisers sunk; five battleships damaged (two lightly, three heavily); and one fleet carrier crippled; all for the loss of 34 IJNAS aircraft and five midget submarines. The traditional striking power of the Pacific Fleet has been smashed in just a morning.
Bloody, Bloody Java
With worsening conditions in the Pacific at the end of 1941, the British reinforce their Pacific forces in hopes of deterring the Japanese. To this end, the battleship Prince of Wales, battlecruisers Repulse and Prins van Oranje (having been serving escort duty on the South Atlantic), large heavy cruisers Defence and Theseus, and aircraft carrier Indomitable are dispatched to Singapore. However, Indomitable runs aground off Jamaica and is delayed by about a month.
The reinforcements arrive in Singapore on December 2. On the morning of December 8, the Japanese commence hostilities across the Pacific—including an air raid on Singapore. Later that day, Admiral Tom Phillips, Commander-in-Chief of the China Station and Eastern Fleet, sorties with Force Z to intercept a reported Japanese invasion convoy heading for Malaya, despite a lack of air cover. They are swarmed by aircraft of the IJNAS from Indochina on December 10. Prince of Wales, Repulse, and Prins van Oranje are all sunk despite masterful shiphandling by their crews; the rest of the force escapes, including the large cruisers.
With the Japanese invasion force already on Malaya and making startling advances and further air raids on the fleet anchorage, Allied naval units evacuate Singapore for Java. In total the new America-British-Dutch-Australian Command is comprised of the Dutch battlecruiser De Zeven Provinciën, British large cruisers Theseus and Defence, British heavy cruiser Exeter, four british light cruisers and two Dutch light cruisers, a Dutch destroyer leader, seven Dutch, four American, and nine British destroyers. In the following weeks, the remnants of the US Asiatic Fleet begin to arrive in Surabaya: eight more American four-stacker destroyers, the heavy cruiser Houston, and the light cruisers Boise and Marblehead.
January is a frustrating month for ABDACOM. Under the protection of airfields seized in their opening offensives, the Japanese methodically march across the Dutch East Indies. Lack of intelligence sees several Allied sorties against phantom invasion convoys, consuming now-limited stocks of fuel oil. While the heavy British units are on a wild goose chase near Sumatra, Task Force 5 deploys against a Japanese convoy heading for Balikpapan on the east coast of Borneo. However, Houston and several DDs are reassigned to convoy escort duties, leaving Marblehead, Boise, and six four-stackers for the sortie.
At one point, Task Force 5 passes the bulk of the IJN’s 4th Destroyer Flotilla and is challenged by signal light. The Americans do not reply, but the Japanese do not fire, assuming the ships are friendly. The Americans reach the Japanese transport and open fire first with their torpedoes to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible. The inner ring of IJN minesweepers and sub-chasers around the transports confuse the American ships for friendly destroyers, the large cruiser Aso and the light cruiser Naka, and do not engage until after the Americans open fire with their guns. The main Japanese escort force is completely out of position, hunting the Dutch submarine K-XVIII, which coincidentally attacked just ahead of the appearance of the Americans, permitting the Yankees to sink 10 of 12 transports before slinking into the night.
In more good news for ABDACOM, the battlecruiser HMAS Tiger, along with the light cruisers HMAS Sydney and HMAS Perth, arrive in Surabaya on January 18. The cruisers immediately get to work escorting convoys, relieving the workload on their sister, HMAS Hobart, who has been in the theater since the beginning of the month. Sydney is fresh out of minor repairs in Ceylon after an engagement with the German armed merchant cruiser Kormoran alongside Defence in November. At the end of the month, ABDACOM is briefly reinforced by the aircraft carriers HMS Indomitable and HMS Hermes, escorted by the light cruisers Hermione and Scylla, and the five DDs. The carriers do not tarry, completing their assigned roles as aircraft ferries before beating a hasty retreat back to Ceylon.
February does not have an auspicious start with miscommunication and concerns of a lack of fuel leading to a task force led by Prins Van Oranje and USS Houston with the light cruisers Java, De Rutyr, Dragon, Danae, Marblehead, and Boise with the destroyer leader Tromp, and three Dutch and four American DDs sortie to intercept an invasion convoy without proper air cover. Japanese land-based bombers attack the force in the Makassar Straits, but are repulsed by an immense wall of anti-aircraft fire provided by the D-class cruisers and Marblehead, which were converted into the anti-aircraft ships in the late ‘30s. The battlecruiser Prins Van Oranje is, however, damaged by a single hit and several near misses, and the intensity of the air attacks makes the Allies withdraw.
As a direct result of this failure, there is a cataclysmic showdown between the Dutch Luitenant-Admiraal Conrad Helfrich and the American Admiral Philip Hart after the strike force returns. It ends with Hart de facto removed from command and Helfrich assuming ABDACOM’s naval billet. The Dutchman immediately goes about gathering sufficient fuel to put the entire force at sea to intercept and destroy the next invasion convoy.
On February 13, the Japanese—with fighting still going on in Singapore—launch a surprise airborne landing against Palembang on Sumatra, knocking out the main concentration of Allied airpower in the region ahead of a naval invasion. The inner defensive ring has been breached. This is the final showdown.
ABDACOM sorties in full force the next day. Helfrich leads the Striking Force from De Zeven Provinciën. The main body consists of the battlecruisers De Zeven Provinciën and Tiger; the large heavy cruisers Defence and Theseus; the heavy cruisers Houston and Exeter; the light cruisers De Rutyr, Java, Hobart, Perth, Boise, Marblehead, Dragon, Danae, and Durban; the destroyer leader Tromp; and 17 destroyers (6 American, 4 British, and 7 Dutch).
Within 48 hours, most of this force will be at the bottom of the Java Sea.
They do not reach Sumatra. The Japanese have come to them—looking for a fight.
With the British radars inoperable due to the climate and Dutch radars having never been installed as a cost saving measure pre-war, the only sign that things have gone wrong is the appearance of smudges of smoke on the western horizon. In short order, seven shapes (plus escorts) appear and are (mis)identified as Mogami and Agano-class light cruisers. The Allied force is surprised, but undaunted.
De Zeven Provinciën opens fire at 32,000 yards. The Japanese “light cruisers” then start to return fire—well in excess of the range expected of 6-inch gun ships. Finally, a member of HMAS Tiger’s bridge crew shouts. “Christ, those are all supers!”
It is the Close Cover Force of the Second Fleet under the command of Vice Admiral Ozawa Jisaburō—with the large cruisers Tsukuba, Tateshina, Tsurumi, and Tokiwa, the heavy cruisers Takao and Senjō, the light cruiser Yoshino, and 10 DDs. Realizing that their bulk of their light cruisers are out-ranged, Helfrich orders his force to close—but Ozawa uses his superior speed to kite the Allies, keeping his ships close enough to not be outranged by the battlecruisers but not so close to get into the effective range of the various Allied CLs. The Allies suffer several communication failures, leading to the Americans breaking formation and the British targeting the wrong ships. Tokiwa delivers first blood, striking Theseus and knocking out both her forward turrets and kills her entire bridge crew. Shortly after, Tateshina and Tsukuba begin to land repeat hits on De Zeven Provinciën—with little effect. Tiger and Tsurumi tear into each other, with the ships trade half a dozen hits in bloody five minutes. Ozawa’s is overmatched, but he is only playing for time, and it runs outs.
More ships arrive. Steaming from the north are four japanese battlecruiser (Atago and Ashitaka), four old heavy cruisers (Aoba, Kinugasa, Furataka, Kako), the light cruiser Agano, and nine destroyers. There is almost no gap between their arrival and the first column of water summoned by crashing 16.1-inch shells.
Hellfrich is in the middle of swirling spider’s web of inter-linked but independent IJN task units. Only two of the six IJN forces at sea will make contact—the heavy cruiser force screening the invasion force rushes to reinforce Ozawa but a garbled signal sends them off on the incorrect bearing (leaving the invasion fleet uncovered); the battleship force with the new Sado-class battlewagons and the monstrous Yamato are too late, delayed after complications while fueling and will fail to approach the Allies from the east; the supporting carrier division (Sōryū and Hiryū) are prevented from joining the battle due to the bad weather; the battlecruisers Tosa, Kaga, and their escorts were intended to sweep behind the Allies fail to do so in good time.
The weather beings to sharply turn for the worse as a storm blows in behind the IJN battlecruisers. A deluge of water and shells douses the Allies in rapid fashion. Defence and the crippled Theseus are left to fend off Ozawa’s supers as De Zeven Provinciën and Tiger try to fend off the Amagi sisters. The Japanese heavy cruisers and destroyers begin to close in and start to dump schools of Type 93 Long Lance torpedoes into the water. The screening Allied destroyer are mauled by the fish in the water Kortenaer, Fortune, Jupiter, and Alden destroyed within seconds of each other. Three Long Lances tear Java in half. Boise and Perth both take multiple 8-inch hits from the old Japanese CAs, but not before the American smashes the upper works of Kinugasa with a flury blows. Houston trades shots with Takao and Senjō, trading hits with the latter.
Plumes of thick smoke billow up from smoke generators and fires raging across massive oilslicks and shattered superstructure. A constant rising tide of gun-smoke rises to meet the falling rain of howling steel and near-tourential water. It is still hot and overwhelmingly humid as the sky is torn open. It is a desperate scene as the Allied forces collpases. Helfrich orders a general retreat before a salvo from Atago blows apart De Zeven Provinciën’s bridge—forcing her remaining command staff to the ship’s rear mounted Italian-style armored conning tower. Tiger remains untouched by battlecruiser fire but has suffered a littany of 10-inch and 8-inch hits, but not before cracking Tsurumi across the skull one last time, forcing the CB to withdraw, trailing oil like a bloodtrail. De Rutyr is destroyed by magazine detonation, likely caused by a hit from Tokiwa. Exeter is cut down by a combination of fire from Aoba and Takao. In this confused scene, Defence and De Zeven Provinciën—without intending—hold the door and allow the other elements of ABDACOM’s Striking Force to retreat into the thundering squalls.
The British large heavy cruiser goes down swinging, taking on three CB and five CA by itself. Durban slips beneath the waves from 8-inch shell holes and heavy seas as the mighty Ten Year Blunder spits blood into the face of her enemies, her secondaries firing at near point blank range at Tokiwa, killing her XO and half her bridge crew. Her final main battery salvo obliterates the destroyer Kagero. The ship goes down after recieving approximately three hundred rounds of 8 and 10-inch ammunition and eight Type 93 torpedoes. The Japanese supers begin to focus on the remaining light cruisers, finally cutting down Boise and sending Dragon to the bottom.
Tiger, Hobart, Marblehead, and the American destroyers are just barely able to remain in contact and breakoff together steaming east. Theseus leads Houston, Perth, Danae, plus two Dutch destroyers west towards Sunda. The remaining DDs that remain afloat (four Dutch and one British) make their stand with their flagship, it is unclear if this is intentional or because they did not recieve the order to withdraw. They are quickly overwhelmed and annhilated. The battlecruiser itself remains afloat but list badly and burning from stem to stern—but the Japanese lose sight of her in the rain.
apanese plans for a coordinate and thorough hunt are utterly disrupted when first light of the next morning, De Zeven Provinciën comes “charging” out of the rain in front of the re-assembling Japanese force—just 11,000 yards from Yamato. The nine most advanced capital units of the IJN open fire immediately in a panic. They finally put down the Flying Dutchmen after some apparent effort. However, the Allied flagship was likely abandoned and no longer under its own power at this point, but that did not deter the wall of Japanese shells from ripping her to pieces. A magazine detonation would finally, and definitively, send the Italo-British-Dutch battlecruiser to bottom.
However, this panic and confusion would allow the two fleeing Allied forces to make a clean break. In the darkness and the stormy weather, Tiger’s task force slips past the Japanese main battle line. They are detected by the force’s eastern-most picket just as they slip past, but they are mistaken for one Kondo’s damaged large cruisers. Theseus and her ilk make it to the Sunda Strait but are caught by Tosa and Kaga reinforced with several heavy cruisers. The battle lasts for several hours in the dark, Houston, Perth, and Evertsen are sunk. Piet Hein and Theseus are believed sunk but are able to limp back to Ceylon, by some miracle. Tiger and her force arrive at Darwin on the morning of February 16 and depart the next day for Brisbane—just narrowly avoiding the massed Japanese airstrikes that would follow.
The Battle of the Java Sea would go down in history as the worst defeat the Royal Navy had faced since the Battle of the Medway, an order of magnitude worse than the infamous Battle of Coronel. ABDACOM’s naval power had been wiped out in just 48 hours at a comparatively minor cost for the IJN.
Now I C You
What appeared to be a decisive and elegant Japanese victory had actually been closer to a farce. Operation SU—the Japanese plan to defeat ABDACOM—had actually intended to encircle and destroy the combined command while it was at anchor in Surabaya, a repeat of Operation AI, the attack on Pearl Harbor but prepared to sink the enemy forces if naval aviation failed to sink the fleet in harbor. However, the forces brought to bear—despite being penny-packeted—would be more than enough to crush ABDACOM. Though, it came at the cost of heavy damage to many of their special type cruisers and moderate damage to the battlecruiser Ashitaka.
Theseus and Piet Hein would reach Ceylon on February 20. The crippled large cruiser would be taken in for emergency repairs before leaving for the Home Islands in mid March. The much depleted Eastern Fleet is soon reinforced by the arrival of the strike carrier Quiberon, the armored carriers Illustrious and Formidable (though Illustrious would be redirected to other task and be unavailable), the refit fast battleships Warspite and Drake, and the large cruisers Hector and Hercules. They would bring with them Admiral James Somerville—new C-in-C, Eastern Fleet.
Somerville knows he is playing with a weakened hand, with almost all of the light forces that should be screening his heavy units at the bottom of the Java Sea. He divides his command into a Fast Force A and a slow Force B. The former includes the carriers along with Warspite, Drake, Hector, and Hercules escorted by the heavy cruisers Dorsetshire and Cornwall, the light cruisers Birmingham, Mauritius, and Gambia, and five destroyers. The latter is centered around the five Revenge-class battleships escorted by the refit light cruisers Enterprise, Emerald, and Caledon, and six destroyers.
Critically, British signals intelligence intercepts Japanese radio communications and extrapolates the time (April 1) and target (Ceylon) of a Japanese “carrier unit” raid, understanding this to be a force equivalent to an American carrier task force—i.e., two to three carriers escorted by cruisers and destroyers. As the defenses on the island brace themselves for the storm, Somerville develops a simple but daring plan: duck and parry.
Somerville moves the Eastern Fleet base of operations to Adu Atoll in the Maldives, out of harm’s way, and prepares a night counter-attack against the Japanese carriers with his radar-equipped Albacore torpedo bombers. His carrier force is extremely well-suited for this task, Quiberon is a “strike carrier” designed by Cammell Laid with a first strike against Wilhelmhaven in mind, and her aviators are amongst the best night pilots in the world, having taken part in Operation JUDGMENT, the Attack on Tarant in 1940. In total, the British have 94 Albacores—48 aboard Quiberon, 22 on Formidable, and 24 on Indomitable.
Japanese submarines scouting ahead of the raid fail to identify the new fleet base at Adu, and things are not improved when the scout carrier Shōhō is detached back to Japan to complete repairs after running aground near Palau a month earlier, thereby cutting the Kido Butai’s dedicated scouting capabilities by half.
But there is a profound miscalculation at the heart of Somerville’s strategy: he is, in fact, facing a carrier force three times stronger than he anticipates. He is not merely facing a lone carrier division but the entire Mobile Force protected by heavy surface units. Vice Admiral Nagumo Chuichi comes west with seven carriers—the six fleet carriers and the scout carrier Shōhō—along with one Amagi-class and both Tosa-class battlecruisers, and the four new Tsurugi-class large cruisers (Tsurugi, Kurama, Ishikari, and Azuma). British intelligence even correctly anticipates the IJN’s timetable—until it is scrambled by American carrier raids against Marcus Island and Lae-Salamaua.
The Mobile Force departs Sulawesi on March 26, instead of March 21 as the British were anticipating. Somerville sorties from Adu on March 30. British defenses are placed on high alert, but on April 1—the expected “C-Day”—Nagumo is nowhere to be found. Somerville repeats his search pattern on April 2, but Nagumo is still 1500 miles away, so the British make for Adu to refuel and rewater (the latter is particularly important for the aging R-class battleships with leaky boiler tubes). Somerville also detaches Dorsetshire and Cornwall back to Colombo as he prepares to begin operations in support of the invasion of Vichy Madagascar.
On April 4, an RCAF Catalina spots the screen of the Mobile Force and is able to relay its sighting of battleships and a single carrier back to Ceylon before being downed by the Japanese close air patrol. Somerville had barely just reached Adu Attoll when the Mobile Force was spotted and had barely begun refueling operations by the time the report actually reached him. He readies his forces to depart as soon as they are ready. Force A sets sail in the night, Force B in the Morning of April 5.
As Nagumo, unaware of the Eastern Fleet’s disposition, spots his aircraft for a strike against Columbo, British scouts continue to make contact with the outer elements of his force. These partial reports, and the first report from April 4, convince the British that the Japanese raiding force has relatively few flattops. Columbo is put on high alert as the six Japanese fleet carriers launch a strike package of 107 bombers (most of the Japanese torpedo bombers are loaded up with semi-armor piercing bombs instead of torpedos) and 43 fighters. British early warning radar fails to detect the incoming Japanese, but an air patrol of Fulmars spots the Japanese and, after briefly confusing them for friendly Hurricanes, raises the alarm. However, time is short and the British are just barely able to scramble their fighters into the air to defend Columbo and the nearby airbases from the incoming horde.
The Japanese are forced to fight their way through to the mostly empty harbor (every ship able to sail was ordered to scatter), where they inflict moderate damages on the port’s facilities and sink the armed merchant cruiser HMS Hector (not the large heavy cruisers) and the destroyer Tenedos. The British lose twenty-four aircraft (including an unlucky flight of six Swordfish ferrying themselves to Ratmalana) while the Japanese lose ten aircraft, with another twenty-two damaged.
While the Japanese are readying for a follow-up strike with their reserve of 63 D3A Val dive bombers—a C6A reconnaissance aircraft from Shōhō spots Dorsetshire and Cornwall as they steam unescorted back to rejoin Force A. Nagumo waffles on whether to follow-up on Columbo or strike the cruisers, he decides for the former; but also orders that his reserve B5N Kates, to be rearmed with torpedoes to deal with the cruisers. The Vals are joined by half a dozen Zeroes. The second strike runs into much better-coordinated opposition from the British, losing six and claiming eight losses. By the time the Kates are ready to prosecute Dorsetshire and Cornwall, the orbiting Jake is intercepted and destroyed by a pair of Fulmars from Formidable; it is downed before it completes an updated report, allowing the British cruisers to change direction and speed. Further searches fail to re-establish contact, and Nagumo estimates that the interceptors were launched from shore, not carriers.
In the early afternoon, Somerville launches eight Albacores on a sweep to establish a fix on the Japanese task force. At approximately 1630, a scout from Quiberon spots the Japanese carrier force steaming southeast just 100 nautical miles away; however it is unable to complete its report before its radio is destroyed, sending its location but not any details of the enemy force.
Somerville continues to deploy scouts as he continues on his bearing east, desperate to find purchase on something significant that he can strike with all his might. His trained night pilots with all their radar and eagle eyes only find a single large contact. It is identified as a carrier—the Shōhō. Somerville immediately spots and launches a strike as his forces continues to close, but he starts to get nervous. Shōhō is not a “carrier unit” in and of itself. He realizes that means that there are almost certainly more carriers out there.
In a dramatic combined assault, the first strike of Albacores tears into the Japanese formation—just three destroyers and the dimunitive carrier. As the guns on Warspite and Drake (joined shortly by Hector and Hercules) open up. The Japanese formation is sunk in minutes and is unable to even complete a warning to the rest of the force.
As dawn breaks, Nagumo is furious that he has lost contact with his scout force—who had fallen out of line to recover one last round of their own aerial reconnaissance. The day’s first scouts from the British find the Japanese fleet—but again are shot down before they can complete their report. This time, the radioman leads with the enemy composition, but fails to report their location. Somerville realizes he is not the hunter, but the fox and that there are up to six enemy carriers operating in his immediately vicinity. He realizes he has no choice but to cede the field to preserve his forces.
Nagumo spends his morning spotting a massive strike across all six of his fleet carriers. But, the order to launch never comes because relying on his second-rate scouts, he fails to find the Eastern Fleet.
Somerville’s fighter screen, with fighter interception assisted by the fleet’s radar-equipped ships, keeps the Japanese blind. Nagumo is not helped by the fact that he massively overestimates the range of the British fleet, so several scouts that could have discovered Somerville fail to spot him. Critically, a floatplane No. 2 from Atago launched on a bearing of 140 degrees fails to return, which convinces Nagumo and his staff that Somerville is operating to their south-southeast while he is actually to their west-southwest.
Nagumo spends April 6 and April 7 searching the seas to the southeast of Ceylon for the Eastern Fleet to no avail as Somerville sends Force B to Kenya and Force A to the western coast of India. On April 8 and April 9, Nagumo steams north and finally attacks Trincomalee on April 11. He finds an alert and ready, but less dense, defense waiting for him. Nagumo launches 132 aircraft at Trincomalee; in the resulting attack against the emptied harbor, the Japanese lose seven aircraft while shooting down 15 British fighters.
Nine unescorted Blenheim bombers manage to sneak up on Nagumo. They pierce the Kido Butai’s air patrol without being spotted, and while Hiryū does spot them as they close in, they fail to report their sighting until after the bombers have dropped their bombs around Akagi. They fail to hit the ship, but splinters from two near misses decapitate the ship’s pilot and wound Nagumo’s flag aid. Zeros swarm the retreating bombers but only manage to down four while losing two of their own. After this and an attack on shipping fleeing from Trincomalee along the coasts, Nagumo withdraws.
On April 8, unbeknownst to Nagumo, the submarine I-7, withdrawing from its patrol off the west coast of India, stumbles upon Force B as it steams toward safe harbor in East Africa. Force B’s escorting destroyers fail to classify the contact as a submarine after mistakenly engaging a pod of whales the day before. I-7 creeps closer, running deep, to a range of just 750 yards, and fires a full spread of six torpedoes. However, the sixth fish slams into a partially open external torpedo tube door and detonates. The submarine is obliterated as all of her remaining Type 95 torpedos cook-off. Three of her Type 95s strike Royal Oak in rapid succession. The battleship sinks in just six minutes, taking 789 of her sailors with her. I-7 fails to report before starting her approach; thus Japanese are not made aware of the sinking of Royal Oak until the AKKOROKAMUI Promethean signals intelligence program in mid-1943.
The Indian Ocean Raid was a fraught and exceptionally close-run fleet action for very little in return. The primary losses for the British were threefold: the loss of Ceylon as a safe fleet anchorage, the loss of merchant shipping, and the loss of Royal Oak. The loss of 110,000 tons of merchant shipping significantly throttled British logistics in Burma and would take over a year to be replaced by new construction. Ceylon would be used intermittently as a fleet base, and the Imperial General Staff would redeploy Agincourt to the Eastern Fleet in preparation for a possible follow-up invasion.
The Shōhō is a catastrophic outcome for the Japanese, and more particularly, the loss of her expert aerial scouts. The Kido Butai had lost one eye.
Somerville later recounts the battle succinctly in his memoirs: “We scorched the Jap Emperor’s beard and narrowly escaped the tiger’s claws.”
MO Problems
In the aftermath of Operation C, the Imperial General Headquarters agrees to a new course of action: the Navy readies itself for a decisive battle to destroy the American carrier forces in the Central Pacific; while the Army pushes ahead with its offensive into the South Pacific to cut the main sea lines of communication between Australia and the United States by establishing seaplane bases before capturing Port Moresby in the Territory of Papua.
Operation MO is incredibly complex. Five naval task forces are to pinwheel across the Solomon and Coral Sea under the command of Vice Admiral Inoue Shigeyoshi. There is a Tulagi Invasion Force, Moresby Invasion Force, Covering Force, Main Body, and Carrier Striking Force. The Main Body would consist of the old Furataka and Aoba class heavy cruisers, the large cruiser Ikoma (fresh out of repairs required after trading blows with Theseus in January) and the questionably effective light carrier Ryujō. The Striking Force, under Vice Admiral Takagi Takeo, would have the juniormost carriers in the navy, the 5th Carrier Division (fleet carriers Shōkaku and Zuikaku), and the 6th Carrier Division (the ex-battlecruisers Hiei and Haruna) and assisted what remains of the 4th Carrier Division, Zuihō. The IJN had hoped to send the 6th and 7th Carrier Divisions—all four Kongō-class conversions—but complications prevent this. Namely, repairs to Kongō from an engineering casualty—that occurred while attacking Rabaul earlier in the year and nearly caused a collision with Akagi—prove more difficult than expected while the worker shortages delay the re-commissioning of Kirishima (those workers were instead diverted to repair the much higher-value scout carrier Zuihō).
The Covering Force and Main Body first escort the Tulagi Force to its destination as it establishes a large seaplane base on the island before sprinting across the Solomon Sea to rejoin the Moresby Invasion Force as it hooks around the tip of Papua toward its target. All the while, the Carrier Striking Force covers the other forces as it sails north of the Solomons before entering the Coral Sea from the east.
The Japanese believe it is likely that there is to be at least one American carrier in the area of operations, and is extremely confident in their ability to weaken the US carrier forces ahead of their decisive battle.
The Allies are, of course, reading significant portions of the Japanese Naval Code and aware of their enemy’s plans. However, the US response options are limited. The USN notionally has six fleet carriers in the Pacific, with three more fleet carriers in the Atlantic. However, of the six in the Pacific, Ranger and Saratoga are still under repair from damage suffered during the attack on Pearl Harbor and from the submarine I-6, respectively. Enterprise and Hornet are operational but returning from the Doolittle Raid, leaving only Lexington and Yorktown available for operations in the South Pacific. In the Atlantic, Wasp is running convoys to Malta; Franklin and Bonhomme Richard are still working up (while providing air cover for trans-Atlantic convoys); and Reprisal is outfitting at Fore River. The Navy’s CV-9 fleet carrier and CV-23 light carriers are under construction but not near completion.
On May 1, Task Force 17 (Yorktown) under Rear Admiral Frank Fletcher is already operating in the area and is reinforced by Task Force 11 (Lexington and the large cruiser Ticonderoga) under Rear Admiral Aubrey Fitch, who have sortied from Pearl Harbor. Ticonderoga is the only fast capital ship available as the battle cruiser Bunker Hill and large cruisers Shiloh and Alaska are with Hornet and Enterprise. However, both task forces need to refuel and TF 17 completes first. After Admiral Fletcher, overall commander, is alerted to the Japanese landing on Tulagi, he decides to detach with just Yorktown and attempt to attack the landings. He orders TF 11 to regroup with Australian Rear Admiral John Crace’s Task Force 44 (a mixed Australian-American cruiser force including the now reparied battlecruiser HMAS Tiger) after it refuels.
On May 4, Fletcher launches a total of 60 aircraft against Tulagi in three waves, which sinks a destroyer and three minesweepers but otherwise fails to prevent the Japanese from establishing a seaplane base on the island. Critically, the IJN’s Carrier Striking Force cannot exploit the Americans’ premature reveal as a failed attempt to reinforce Rabual pushes back their timetable by a day and is in the middle of fueling when word of the attack on Tulagi reaches them. Furthermore, the Japanese incorrectly assume the Americans are operating to the east—not the south—of the Solomons, so Japanese aerial recon fails to spot Fletcher before he regroups with Lexington.
On May 5, Fletcher regroups with Task Forces 11 and 44, and radio intercepts informs him that the Japanese intend to arrive off Port Moresby on May 10. Fletcher deduces that the Japanese are likely to have carriers operating in support of the landing force and that they are likely transiting via the Jormand Passage (through the strait between the Louisiade Archipelago and Papau) to Moresby.
In the wee hours of May 6, Takagi rounds the tip of the Solomons and enters the Coral Sea from the west with his four carriers. Later that morning, a flying boat launched from Tulagi spots Task Force 17, but again, Takagi is in the middle of refueling and unable to put the report to use. He detaches his carriers forward under the command of Rear Admiral Hara Chūichi, certain that the next day will be the day of decisive action. Meanwhile, Fletcher is unaware of Takagi’s presence to his northeast as he refuels ahead of his planned interception of what he believes is a combined carrier-invasion force. After he finishes refueling, he detaches the fast oiler Neosho and destroyer Sims to hold station to the south, out of danger. On the night of May 6-7, the two carrier forces unwittingly come within 70 nautical miles of each other before the Japanese carriers turn north to rejoin the rest of the Striking Force.
Fletcher starts May 7 by detaching Task Force 44 to seal the Jormand Passage to prevent the invasion convoy from slipping through to Port Moresby while incorrectly looking for the main Japanese force north of the Louisiade. The Japanese launch an early morning wide area search. They report finding an American carrier and cruiser to their south-southeast at 0745. A second spotter, from a cruiser, confirms the report. After confirmation, Hara launches a huge strike—all of his 114 available aircraft.
Just after putting up their strike, a scout plane from the large cruiser Ikoma spots two carriers, four cruisers, and a battleship. Hara and Takagi are confused by this report but piece together that the American carriers might be operating in multiple units.
At 0815, Shortly after the Japanese spots his own force, Fletcher receives a report of “two carriers and four cruisers” operating to his north, heading toward the Jormand Passage. He orders an attack with available aircraft, believing this to be the primary enemy force. Just as the Americans start launching their attack at 0915, the Japanese attack arrives at the reported “enemy carrier” but are confused to find only a destroyer and an oiler operating alone. They break up and begin to search the area for their true target, not yet aware that their scouts had misidentified Sims and Neosho.
Just after the US attack finally is off the decks and heading toward its target, the scout that had relayed the location of the Main Body and Moresby Invasion Force arrives back aboard Yorktown and realizes his report had been transmitted incorrectly, as he had only seen two cruisers and two destroyers. Fletcher does not recall his strike, and that decision is ratified when a report at 1022 from a USAAF B-17 relays the presence of a carrier operating close to the report from earlier in the morning. Fletcher is certain he has found the main Japanese force. He is, of course, wrong.
At 1051, the impromptu scouts realize they had misidentified Neosho as a carrier. The Japanese now realize that the Americans are between their carrier strike force and the invasion convoy, leaving only the token air complement aboard Ryujō to protect over 5,000 troops. At 1115, the bulk of the morning’s strike is recalled, save for the 48 dive bombers that are ordered to sink Neosho and Sims. The two ships have no chance and are outright sunk in short order. Sims is hit by four bombs, while Neosho is struck by 11. The oiler is able to make a garbled report of the attack before it loses power.
The American attack spots the invasion convoy at 1040 and finds only a paltry close air patrol up to meet them. Lexington’s air group is the first to arrive and concentrate all their attention on Ryujō. The carrier is struck by three bombs and two torpedoes. As Yorktown’s air group arrives Ryujō is burning badly. Misidentifying Ikoma as merely a heavy cruiser, the Americans pile onto the carrier, scoring nine torpedoes and eight bomb hits, with one unlucky Zero on the deck struck directly by a 1,000-pound bomb. At 1210, VS-2’s commanding officer, Commander Robert Dixon, issues the call over the radio: SCRATCH ONE FLAT TOP! SIGNED BOB.
The Americans and Japanese recover their strikes. Believing that the enemy has more carriers operating in the region, Fletcher does not launch a follow-up strike on the invasion force as he will be unable to find and hit the other carriers before it is too dark. He keeps Task Force 17 under cloud cover to provide additional protection against detection. Inoue, back in Rabaul, orders the invasion force to withdraw north after losing its escorting carriers and orders Takagi to destroy the Americans.
The Japanese spot Task Force 44, but the floatplane inaccurately reports the presence of two carriers. Inoue vectors land-based bombers against the report, but they fail to deal any significant damage. They report the sinking of two battleships. However, the attack does force Crace to withdraw to avoid future air attacks. The Australian is out of contact with Fletcher, who maintains radio silence to avoid detection. Takagi and Hara, monitoring the traffic between Rabaul and the float-planes, are intent on a final, late-day strike at the alleged carrier force, knowing that it will return after nightfall. They launch more scouts at 1515, hoping to find the Americans.
A strike package of 22 dive and 31 torpedo bombers is launched without fighter escort at 1615, without a clear target. These are hand-picked, the best aviators in the Carrier Striking Force, and include seven D3A Val crews who have just returned from the five-hour marathon mission against Neosho. They are merely sent down a bearing of 280°—a wild goose chase. Unfortunately for the Japanese, they are picked up by the radars on TF 17. Fletcher takes the opportunity to vector 13 F4F Wildcats against the errant formation. The ambush achieves complete surprise, destroying 12 Kates and 5 Vals and scattering the Japanese aircraft. The Japanese strike leaders call off the attack shortly before the sun sets. Several Vals stumble upon TF 17 in the darkness, and they mistake them for their own carriers; they start to circle the flat-tops to land before the American anti-aircraft batteries open fire. Eventually, the surviving 36 aircraft reach the Japanese carriers, but two more are forced to ditch due to damage.
Fletcher heads west while Takagi steams to the north. The Americans ready a 360° search while the Japanese ready a dense search pattern to the south and west. Inoue formally pushes back the invasion of Port Moresby to May 12.
Both sides are determined to find their opponent as early as possible. The Japanese launch a mixed search pattern of 11 C6A Jakes from the carriers, three H6K Mavis float-planes from Tulagi, and four G4M Betty bombers from Rabaul. The Americans, operating under Fitch’s tactical control, launch 18 SBD Dauntless.
The inclement weather that had protected the Americans now shielded the Japanese as it moved north. However, at 0820, a Dauntless off Lexington spots the Japanese carriers through a hole in the clouds. Two minutes later, a Jake from Zuihō spots the Americans. The two forces are approximately 210 nmi apart as they rush to get their strikes into the air. The carriers steam toward each other to shorten the return leg for their attack aircraft. The Japanese launch a strike with 18 Zeros, 49 Vals, and 21 Kates at 0915; the Americans launch separate attacks, with six Wildcats, 24 Dauntlesses, and nine Devastators from Yorktown at 0915 and nine Wildcats, 15 Dauntlesses, and 12 Devastators from Lexington at 0925.
Yorktown’s dive bombers arrive first at 1032 and wait for their torpedo bombers to catch up before launching their attack. The only spot Shōkaku and Hiei—as Zuikaku, Zuihō, and Haruna are hidden by a rain squall—and jump them. Despite impressive maneuvering, the aviators score two 1,000-pound bomb hits on Shōkaku. Hiei—slower and less maneuverable than her purpose-built relative—is struck by three bombs and a torpedo. Both carriers are knocked from the fight before Lexington’s aircraft arrive on target. When Lady Lex’s aviators do arrive on the scene, approximately half of her SBDs are unable to find the Japanese through the bad weather. Those who do find the Japanese see two smoking carriers and Haruna running for the squalls. They score two more bomb hits on Shōkakū and two on Haruna, but the TBDs fail to score a single hit. One of the bombs that hit Haruna penetrates the ship’s port wing engine room before detonating, wrecking the space and causing her to lose speed.
TF 17 detects the incoming strike on radar at 70 nmi but incorrectly estimates their approach altitude, allowing the attackers to sail overhead of the CAP picket. Nine B5N Kates target Yorktown, but none of their torpedoes connect; the other 12 attack Lexington and score three hits. 20 Vals line up on Lexington and score two hits; the other 19 attack Yorktown, scoring a single hit and 16 near-misses.
In the span of about an hour, five carriers have been badly damaged, with two out-right crippled and potentially beyond saving (Lexington and Hiei). As the strikes are returning to their carriers, they run into each other—leading to a series of frenetic duels that destroy three more Japanese and American aircraft. Yorktown and Lexington (barely) are able to recover their aircraft. Zuikaku and Haruna both start to recover their own until Haruna’s steering linkage fails (one of the original components of the ship that was not replaced when she was re-engined due to time constraints), and the carrier lazily veers out of control.
Fletcher assesses that he has killed one, maybe two carriers, but not all. He is left with two heavily damaged carriers and two greatly depleted air groups against at least one operational enemy carrier. Even worse, with the loss of Neosho, he can no longer refuel at sea. Things are made worse when, at 1247, gasoline fumes in Lexington’s hangar are ignited by an errant electrical spark. The massive explosion rocks the ship and starts a massive fire. Fletcher is informed at 1422 by Fitch of reports of two undamaged enemy carriers. Fletcher makes the decision to withdraw. At 1442, another massive explosion rocks Lexington, followed by yet another at 1525. The fires are uncontrollably by 1538 and the crew begins evacuating at 1707.
Takagi is left with a single operational carrier (Zuikaku) and 37 operational aircraft, the majority of which are fighters (an additional thirty-five aircraft aboard Haruna are available but unable to be launched). Zuihō’s air complement is non-material, which proves frustrating to Takagi—who has an operational carrier with no aircraft he can meaningful use and an inoperational carrier with aircraft he cannot use. At 1210, Shōkaku detaches from the battle and sets course for Japan. Hiei limps in the same direction, but it is not clear if she can be saved. Takagi asks her captain, Komura Keizō, if the ship can be saved. Komura states she can, and she is, eventually, at the cost of 515 of her 1432-man crew. Haruna, while in no danger of sinking, must be towed until temporary repairs allow her to get back under her own power on the morning of May 9. The escorts of the Carrier Striking Force are dangerously low on fuel, some as low as 20%. Takagi informs Inoue that he cannot provide air cover for the invasion convoy, but he has sunk a pair of American carriers. Having spotted Task Force 44, Inoue recalls the transports and the rest of his forces. To add insult to injury, as the forces are withdrawing, Zuihō is ambushed by USS Tautog (SS-199) outside of Truk lagoon after it is delayed taking on fresh scout aircraft and is struck by three torpedoes—two of which function, shockingly, crippling the ship (the third suffers a circular run and forces Tautog deep).
The Americans have achieved a major strategic and narrow tactical victory but at a significant cost. The IJN has temporarily lost use of its two most modern carriers: Zuikaku and Shōkaku. One (Zuikaku) is due to Japanese air group regeneration doctrine. They also lose their second eye, Zuihō, a devestating blow to the short-term plans of the Navy. The loss of Ryujō is not materially significant, but the loss of many of her aviators is sorely felt when trying to regenerate Zuikaku’s air group. The Kongō-class carriers also confirm their squalid reputations with a meager performance. The price of this American victory is one carrier badly damaged and another sunk. Even in this, there is a silver lining. The failure of damage control practices aboard Lexington will be a lesson learned the hard way and ensuring that no other gas-fume explosions will occur on another carrier. And most important of all, the Japanese will not take Port Moresby. Their drive into the South Pacific is halted and will not resume until July with the landings on New Georgia and Guadalcanal—and the Invasion of Milne Bay.
A Very Different Midway
The Imperial General Headquarters was extremely divided on what to do next in early 1942 as it basked in its smashing successes in Malaya, the Philippines, and the Dutch East Indies. Admiral Yamamoto put forth a daring strategy to trap and kill the Pacific Fleet and extend the Japanese defensive perimeter further east by attacking a position they could not help but defend. Originally, the target was supposed to be Pearl Harbor but after the March 5 attack on the Hawaiian Islands by two H8K Emily flyingboats (Operation K) failed to achieve much damage and revealed the increased air defenses on the islands, the was revised to Midway Atoll. The operation would also include a feint attack against the Aleutians to conceal Japanese intentions and also prevent the United States from using the island chain to launch attacks against the Japanese-held Kuriles. Admiral Yamamoto would go so far as to threaten his resignation to ensure the operation was initiated. He would get what he wanted on April 16—a decision that would then be ratified by the Doolittle Raid stressing the need for a deeper defensive perimeter on April 18.
The formal authorization would be issued on May 5 with Navy Order No. 18.
The United States immediately notices the considerable uptick in communications traffic around the Home Islands. On May 7, FRUPAC (Fleet Radio Unit, Pacific) decrypts and translates the agenda for a Japanese aviation conference which includes such topics as “obtaining air superiority over a target” and “assisting in amphibious landings.” On May 9, FRUMEL (Fleet Radio Unit, Melbourne) intercepts signals that confirm the creation of a new “First Air Fleet Striking Force” and that a major fleet movement would begin on May 21. All of this would point toward an offensive in late May. On May 22, a deception operation by Fleet Radio Units would confirm that the target “AF” was Midway (though FRUs already had a good idea that AF was Midway). A further code breakthrough allows FRUPAC to pin down the date of the attack to June 4. This gives Admiral Chester Nimitz, CINC-PAC/PAO, ample time to reinforce Midway’s defenses and to prepare his carriers to ambush the IJN’s grand fleet trap.
However, there is first a game of musical chairs in American fleet command. Vice Admiral William Halsey, the seniormost carrier admiral and who Nimitz intended to fleet the forces at Midway, is forced into convalescence; his psoriasis has grown so severe that he could barely sleep, and he has lost nearly 20 pounds during the last six months, which he spent nearly constantly at sea. Halsey would suggest his cruiser force commander, Rear Admiral Raymond Spruance, to replace him. However, Nimitz would instead give overall command to Rear Admiral Fletcher—who was both more senior and more experienced in carrier operations. However, Spruance would still be given command of Halsey’s carrier task force.
Both Shōhō and Zuihō, the vaunted Eyes of the Fleet, will miss what is intended to be the most important naval battle since Tsushima. There is some discussion about delaying the operation until the Zuihō is rushed back into service, but Yamato fears the arrival of more American carriers and wishes to push his advantage to break the back of the American carrier fleet as soon as possible. Moreover, the fleet has enough floatplanes on its capital ships and cruisers to pick up the slack, but those pilots are not nearly as skilled as those aboard the scout carriers.
As per tradition, the Japanese battle force is over-dispersed and unable to mutually support with a peak of eleven separate task forces. This is, at least, in part an attempt to prevent detection—but that is already moot but obviously unknown to the Japanese.
On May 26, the Fifth Fleet (Northern Force) under Vice Admiral Hosogaya Boshirō sets sail for the Aleutians with a heavy cruiser, three light cruisers, nine destroyers, and three transports across two task forces. He is also covered by the Second Carrier Striking Force with the hot-off-the-presses light fleet carrier Jun’yō, along with one heavy cruiser, three light cruisers, and three destroyers. Boshirō will later be covered by the Guard Force detached from the Main Body of the First Fleet with the battlecruiser Tosa, two large cruisers, two light cruisers, and twelve destroyers.
On May 27, the First Fleet sets sail from Hashirajima. It is divided between a Main Body under Admiral Yamamoto and the First Carrier Striking Force under Vice Admiral Nagumo. The Main Body contains eight battleships, one battlecruiser, three large cruisers, the light carrier Hōshō, three light cruisers, two seaplane tenders carrying midget submarines, and twenty-one destroyers. The First Carrier Striking Force contains the 1st, 2nd, and 7th Carrier Divisions (Akagi and Kii; Soryū and Hiryū; Kongō and Kirishima), the battlecruisers Atago and Ashitaka, the large cruisers Tsurugi and Azuma, two heavy cruisers, a light cruiser, and a destroyer.
Also on May 27, the Second Fleet (Midway Invasion Force) under Vice Admiral Kondō sets sail from both Saipan and Hashirajima. The Midway Occupation Force, with four heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, twelve transports, and ten destroyers, sets sail from Saipan with the 2nd Combined Special Naval Landing Force and Ichiki Detachment of the 4th Infantry Regiment. They are joined by a Seaplane Tender Group with two tenders and a destroyer and the Minesweeper Group with four minesweepers and three subchasers. The Main Body of the Second Fleet has two large cruisers, four heavy cruisers, the carrier Haruna (she was repaired by Kure Naval Yard in just 96 hours), one light cruiser, and ten destroyers.
There is a further screen of ten submarines of the Sixth Fleet’s Advance Force serving as a picket line east of Midway on the approaches from Oahu.
The carriers Zuikaku, Shōkaku, Zuihō, Hiei, and Hiyō miss the battle as they are either under repair, without an air group, or not yet in commission. The battlecruiser Kaga (torpedoed by a Dutch submarine) and three large cruisers are also under repairs and are unable to join the battle.
The Imperial Japanese Navy estimates that the United States Navy has two to three operational carriers, erring closer to two after the presumed sinking of both Yorktown and Lexington at Coral Sea. However, Yorktown is not only not sunk she is back and ready for combat duty after just 72 hours of feverish work at Pearl Harbor. While the Japanese leave Zuikaku behind—which is otherwise operational—for lack of an air group, the Americans stitch together a new air group for Yorktown by grabbing whatever squadrons are to hand (plundering Saratoga’s orphaned air group in Hawaii) and even creating a new composite fighter squadron.
Nimitz, however, is acutely aware that he is at a numbers disadvantage. Ranger and Saratoga wrap up their repairs at Bremerton on May 22 and head for San Diego to embark their new air groups and rendezvous with their escorts, including the large cruiser Shiloh. Despite expediting their departure from the West Coast, they are not able to reach the battle area in time to contribute. While suboptimal, three Yorktown-class carriers and the aircraft launched from Midway would give the Americans parity with FRUPAC’s estimate of 4—or at most 5—enemy carriers.
Therefore, the Americans have to play with a weaker hand. Fletcher remains with Task Force 17 and Yorktown with two heavy cruisers, six destroyers, and the battle cruiser Bunker Hill. Spruance’s Task Force 16 has Enterprise and Hornet, along with five heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, nine destroyers, and the large cruisers Alaska and Ticonderoga. Twelve American submarines also form a barrier to the west of Midway with two additional patrol groups with seven other submarines.
Critically, a planned second seaplane mission to reconnoiter Pearl Harbor is scrapped (as the planned seaplane refueling point at French Frigate Shoals was discovered to be covered by USN ships). The submarine picket line is also late on the station, allowing TF 16 and 17 to reach their ambush position at “Point Luck” without being detected. However, Japanese signals intelligence does notice the huge increase in traffic around Midway and can even ascertain that at least one USN carrier task force could be out to sea, but these reports do not reach Nagumo because of strict radio silence.
On June 3, B-17s based from Midway attack the Midway Occupation Force heading from Saipan but fail to score any hits, but a follow-up night attack by PBY Catalinas damages a fleet oiler with a torpedo. To the North, the Second Carrier Striking Force launches an air raid against Dutch Harbor but the raid is disrupted by USAAF P-40s and does little damage.
On the morning of June 4, Nagumo launches his first attack against Midway with 159 aircraft (dive bombers from Akagi, Kaga, and Kirishima; torpedo bombers from Soryū, Hiryū, and Kongō) and puts up a preliminary air search. Not expecting to find anything he launches just eight search aircraft (two B5N Kates from Akagi, six Aichi E13A Jakes from Azuma and Tsurugi). Azuma Floatplane No. 3 is delayed by 30 minutes, with massive consequences. The Americans begin their own searches at 0430 with 10 SBD Dauntless scouts off Yorktown and 11 PBY Catalina seaplanes from Midway.
At 0534, one PBY spots the Japanese carriers and the inbound strike is spotted by another PBY at 0544. Midway’s bombers are sent in without escorts as the fighters remain over Midway to defend the islands. At 0620, the 21 F2A Buffalo and 7 F4F Wildcat fighters intercept the Japanese but have middling performance, destroying just 5 B5Ns and 2 A6Ms at the cost of 15 F2As and 2 F4Fs (and all but two aircraft no longer airworthy once they land). Midway’s reinforced anti-aircraft artillery destroys six Japanese aircraft. In total, the Japanese lose 16 aircraft destroyed and 21 aircraft damaged beyond repair. The strike does heavily damage Midway’s support facilities but fails to knock out Eastern Island’s runway. The attack command reports back to Nagumo that a second strike is needed if the Occupation Force is to land on June 7.
At 0710, the Midway’s attack aircraft begin arriving in penny packets.
The first to arrive are 6 TBF Avengers and 4 B-26 Marauders armed with torpedos. The strike is broken and annihilated, but not before two B-26s get dangerously close to Nagumo’s flagship, Akagi. One Maurader pulls off from an attack run and strafes the carrier, and the other, heavily damaged, very nearly slams into the carrier’s bridge.
Nagumo, against Yamamoto’s standing orders, decides to rearm his reserve aircraft to attack Midway at 0715 as it is clearly the greater threat to his carriers. He reaches this understanding because, by about 0700, most of his scouts had reached the end of the patrol path and had yet to report anything. Vitally, this is only for most scouts, as the delayed Azuma No. 4 was running behind schedule. So, of course, at 0745—about 30 minutes into the laborious process of rearming the strike aircraft—Azuma No. 3 reports “SIGHT WHAT APPEARS TO BE TEN ENEMY SURFACE UNITS” back to the fleet. Nagumo immediately countermands his order and has his reserve force re-armed for an anti-surface strike. Thankfully, only half of his B5N Kates would need to be re-armed for a second time, but the spare ordnance is left lying around the hangars of the aircraft.
Shortly after Azuma No. 3’s report at 0750, Spruance’s Task Force 16 launches a strike of 116 aircraft. The Americans’ inexperience and slow launch times actually prove to be a boon to them. They forgo a coordinated attack and just dispatch their squadrons as they launch. Spruance gambles on to hitting the Japanese first, just before they can put up a strike. However, Hornet’s skipper and CAG make a profound mistake, and their aircraft are sent off on the wrong bearing. At least, VT-8 breaks formation and returns to the correct bearing, though VS-8 and VB-8, with their F4F Wildcat escorts, continue on their infamous Flight to Nowhere.
Azuma No. 3’s report notably fails to include the composition of the enemy—it could be carriers or could be oilers. Not only that, but the location of the report is 60 miles off course, which adds to the confusion. Nagumo is faced with a fraught decision: he can either launch a partial-strength strike with his reserve aircraft or he can recover the strike aircraft coming back from Midway. He cannot do both at once. He has 15 minutes to make his decision at 0745, as it would take 45 minutes to spot and launch a strike (start launch before 0800) and 30 minutes to land the returning aircraft (begin landing at 0845 before the aircraft began to run out of fuel at 0915).
However, this is purely hypothetical because, at 0753, 16 USMC SBD Dauntlesses from Midway attack the Kido Butai, targeting Hiryū. The inexperienced pilots fail to hit the carrier. Again at 0810, the next penny packet attack arrives, this time it is 15 USAAF B-17 Flying Fortresses attacking from high altitude. At 0827, the last attack from Midway arrives—11 Marine Devastators, which target Atago, but they also fail to score a hit. Adding to the chaos, the submarine Nautilus makes an attack run against Ashitaka, but the battlecruiser dodges the torpedo, and then the destroyer Arashi is detached to run the submarine.
However, these consecutive penny packets ensure that Nagumo never has a window to launch an escorted strike against Azuma No. 3’s reported target and thus has no choice but to wait and recover the morning strike, lest he start The Decisive Naval Battle™ by having dozens, if not over a hundred, of his combat aircraft ditch into the drink.
At 0820, Azuma No. 3 again reports in, this time confirming the presence of a single carrier. However, it has actually spotted Spruance’s Task Force 16, which has two. At 0906, Yorktown launches her strike with 44 aircraft. Fletcher risks his reserves—the nine spare aircraft of VS-5 who had not launched on morning searches—after a new update from FRUPAC confirms the presence of no less than six carriers. Then, at 0917, in a bewildering move, Nagumo turns northeast onto a closing course, with the enemy throwing away his air groups’ range advantage. Nagumo, regardless, just needs one 45-minute window to spot and launch his strike.
He will not get one.
At 0925, VT-8 from Hornet—who made the fateful decision to change bearings and ditch their fellow aviators from CVG-8—make their attack run. They are cut to pieces as A6M Zeroes swarm over them like flies, and the entire squadron is shot down, with only a single survivor. At 0930, VT-6 from Enterprise attacks the First Carrier Striking Fleet, targeting Kii. The 14 TBD Devastators manage to release five torpedoes, none of which hit, at the cost of 10 aircraft (one of which had to ditch on the return leg). Just after Enterprise’s devastators are done, the 12 aircraft of VT-3 off Yorktown begin their own attack at 1000, escorted by 4 F4F Wildcats from VF-3. The American fighters, using the Thach Weave, are able to destroy 4 A6Ms while only losing a single of their own. Lieutenant Commander Jimmy Thach’s flight of fighters allows 11 TBDs to break for Hiryū—the only Americans to spot the carrier as it maneuvers through a rain squall. It also draws the attention of nearly all of the low-altitude CAP fighters, which in turn forces the A6M on high-altitude CAP to dive to intercept the TBDs, leaving the skies above undefended. Five Devastators are able to release their weapons against Hiryū, but again, they score no hits. In total, VT-3 and VF-3 lose 10 TBDs and 1 F4F but take down about 7 A6Ms.
Nagumo’s luck runs out at 1022. 58 SBD Dauntlesses appear overhead, approaching from two different directions, and begin their fateful attack. It is VB-6 and VS-6 under Lieutenant Commander Wade McClusky and VB-3 and VS-5 under the command of Lieutenant Commander Maxwell Leslie. It is a miraculous appearance and completely unplanned. McClusky had pressed on for just long enough while running low on fuel to find the destroyer Arashi returning to the carriers at flank speed. Leslie had been following VT-3 but had decided to approach from a different angle. There is nothing to prevent the steel and aluminum jaws of the United States Navy from closing on the neck of the Kido Butai.
McClusky plans to split his squadrons so that one takes Kii and the other takes Akagi, but McClusky violates doctrine, as the leading element should’ve attacked the further target (Akagi), but he instead leads VS-6 against the nearer one (Kii), so both squadrons attack the same ship. Realizing the error, Lieutenant Dick Best, commander of VB-6, takes his two wingmen to attack Akagi. Leslie, likewise, splits his squadrons between Kongō and Soryū. Hiryū and Kirishima remain hidden from view by rain squalls.
At 1025, as the aircraft begin their near-vertical dives, a pressure wave followed by a 70-foot-tall wall of granite-grey ethereal miasma comes screaming across the horizon at an altitude of 2,000 feet. Kii takes seven hits in rapid succession. Dick Best’s flight is hit directly by the pressure wave and fog, which forces one of his wingmen to miss narrowly. Best manhandles his aircraft and puts his bomb dead center through the Japanese flag emblazoned on Akagi’s forward flight deck. VB-3 walks four bombs down Soryū, starting at the island and going back toward the stern. VS-5 clips Kongō with two bombs along her stern and two amidships—in fact—hitting the same place twice.
Four carriers are burning badly as the American warplanes head for home, but the fire and smoke no longer command the attention of those present. Even Admiral Nagumo stands confused on the bridging and gawking at the horizon to the north. American and Japanese alike watch a storm system two-hundred-and-fifty miles away billow up into the heavens. They have no idea what they are seeing. Some think that a Krakatoa-level eruption has occurred. All of the theories are, of course, wrong.
The war has been irrevocably altered. History has forever been changed.
This is the Departure.
The crescendo of tension that leads to the climax of the CTF arriving... *chef's kiss*
Excellent work as usual.
So DEI still fall (DEI as Dutch East Indies)..