It is January 1, 1922.
The staff of the Memorial Continental Hall have spent the last twelve hours on a collective bender that will change history.
To keep their party going, some of the more adventurous staff procure industrial alcohol laced with various toxic additives as money runs thin and purloined drink runs dry. Eventually, the time comes for them to return to work. They attend to their duties with the grace and dexterity one could expect from those who are partially drunk—or dying.
The decorations sag or remain unfinished. The food is badly prepared, with substitute ingredients bought with what little funds are left—everything else having been used to sustain the night’s bucolic buckaroo. Top-shelf alcohol is replaced with libations of questionable nature. Several statues and paintings are missing. All of the flags are missing, having been lost at a game of basement craps.
One item in particular—a bouillabaisse—will be thrust into history. Rotten fish in the dish will officially be the source of the coming cataclysm, though historians will later agree that contaminated alcohol—floor polish in the punch—was the real trigger.
This soiree is not any shin-dig. It is the New Year’s Gala for the Conference on Arms Limitation—known to history as the First Washington Naval Conference.
Bad Fish Soup.
United States Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes would later recount the events that followed:
I watched as Mr. Tomosaburō gave me the strangest look. He turned red and then green. The color of his face turned positively emerald as he expelled the contents of his stomach into my face. He was very apologetic afterwards, as was I.
Because, of course, my body replied in kind.
It was such a shame, the conversation was quite interesting. I could never muster the courage to broache that topic again after I attempted it once in the fall, at the Second Conference. I recognized the shade on his face and thought it best not to dreg up memories for fear of another geyser. God, the sting in my eyes.
In moments, the Gala turns from a genteel affair into the Swamp of Nurgle. Vomit coats the floor as diplomats and ministers slip and slide. No less than three members of the building's staff will be found dead. The Deputy Head of the French Delegation will crack his head open and nearly die. General Pershing will require hospitalization, along with approximately a third of all delegates and more than half of the staff.
Fingers are immediately pointed in every direction. Agents from every corner of the Federal Government—and the various nations attending—descend on the Memorial Continental Hall. However, no foul play can be ascertained. The primary vectors of malediction were the soup and the punch. The young man who had poured the floor polish into the punch was certain that it was vodka, but he was suffering from acute methanol poisoning and had mistaken the paint can of bootleg vodka for the paint can filled with floor polish. The man who had purchased the fish for the bouillabaisse dies during the day, but the fishmonger who sold him week-old striped bass will attest that he complained about “the others” using too much of the money on booze and that he was clearly intoxicated.
No purpose-made poison is identified, which relaxes tensions considerably. Out of embarrassment and wish to avoid scuppering the arms control talks, the details of the day are left blurry and downplayed. It was merely severe food poisoning caused by spoiled fish bought by a man who drank himself to death.
With most of the senior diplomatic staff of the nine powers incapacitated, the First Washington Naval Conference is closed with negotiations near completion, but still ongoing, for the Five and Nine Power Treaties.
The Nine Powers would reassemble on August 11th, 1922, at the hastily refitted Old Post Office Building.
The Republic Strikes Back
Work on the Nine Power Treaty is rapidly completed and the document is signed just eight days after the Second Washington Naval Conference convenes, most of the work completed in the interregnum.
However, unlike the Nine Power Treaty, there are several simmering crises with the Five Power Treaty—what would generally be known as the Washington Naval Treaty. The terms of the treaty were rather close to completion, and the stances of the powers have now been laid plain on the table.
Critically, work does not completely stop on the Washington Cherry Trees—ships laid down to provide leverage in negotiations or caught in flux—in the interregnum.
The Japanese battleships Nagato and Mutsu have been working up; their successors, Tosa and Kaga, continue a tepid outfitting process. The Naval General Staff ready the conversion plans for the battlecruisers Amagi and Akagi, and work continues slowly on the latter two Amagi-class, Atago and Ashitaka. The follow-on Kii-class fast battleships are laid down, and work begins, also tepidly. The Battle of the Katōs—between dovish civilian naval minister Katō Tomosaburō and hawkish admiral Katō Kanji—continues to rage, especially after word of the 5/5/3 ratio is leaked.
Similarly, the United States continues outfitting its three uncompleted Colorado-class battleships (Colorado, West Virginia, and Washington—Maryland having commissioned in July of 1921) but does not continue work on the South Dakota-class battleships and Lexington-class battlecruisers, except to prepare Lexington and Saratoga for their fated conversions.
The United Kingdom continues superficial work on the G3-class battlecruisers, laying the keel of four ships (Trafalgar, Agincourt, St. Vincent, Quiberon) and orders for four N3-class battleships, but they are not yet laid down.
The Italians delay their plans to convert the battleship Francesco Carricolo to a carrier pending the new treaty, while Frances scraps its Normandie-class battleships (save for Béarn, which is saved pending conversion).
Unexpectedly, the United States—who had been the instigator of the conference—goes on one last offensive. First off, they demand that they be able to complete their Colorado-class battleships, then they propose increasing the displacement limit for the two special carrier conversions up to 38,000 tons, and then they bring up a sore spot left unspoken by the draft treaty at the First Conference: HMS Hood.
Hood displacing 41,200 standard tons is in flagrant violation of the treaty’s limit of 35,000 tons for capital ships. The US demand is simple: if the British get a ship in excess of the treaty limits—they should get one too. They propose a category of “capital vessels for the purpose of trade protection exempt from certain qualitative limitations.” Namely, vessels of this class would be limited to 45,000 tons standard.
The US proposes that the United States and the United Kingdom each be permitted a single ‘Exempter’ vessel. The British refuse. The Americans then argue that if they cannot be compensated for Hood, the battlecruiser should instead be scrapped.
The Japanese delegation is initially horrified by this development, but they then this fight has presented a golden opportunity. They approach the Americans with a bargain: They offer their support for the Exempter classification in exchange for a vessel of their own.
The British still refuse.
The United States delegation makes a controversial ‘compromise’ offer. Japan would accept the treaty’s ratio of 5/5/3 without reservation, and in exchange, the Big Three—the United States, the United Kingdom, and the Empire of Japan—would be permitted two Exempter ships. The Americans would complete the Colorado class, the Japanese would retain the Nagato class, and the British would be able to construct four 35,000-ton battleships. The nations’ carrier special conversions would be limited to 38,000 tons.
The United States would be able to match Hood and salvage some elements of their 1917 shipbuilding program; the United Kingdom would get a new-build Exempter ship and continue to claim that they had the most powerful ship in the world; and the Empire of Japan would be able to claim parity (in Exempter ships). The increase in total displacement would also permit the Kingdom of Italy to complete Francesco Carricolo as a battleship, in so far as the nation had the money and willingness to scrap its remaining pre-dreadnought battleships.
No one is happy, but everyone can live with it.
That is, until a coded dispatch from Tokyo arrives at their Embassy in Washington, one that the Cipher Bureau—the Black Chamber—intercepts, decrypts, and translates.
IF NOT POSSIBLE TO COMPLETE TOSA AND KAGA IN A FUNCTIONAL CAPACITY IN ADDITION TO COMPLETION OF EXEMPT BATTLE-CRUISERS HIS MAJESTY HAS INSTRUCTED HIS GOVERNMENT TO WITHDRAW FROM FURTHER NEGOTIATIONS IMMEDIATELY.
The Japanese broached the topics of the completion of Tosa and Kaga—ships that do not qualify as “capital vessels for the purpose of trade protection.” The sudden change in Japanese disposition comes as a shock to their delegates, especially the delegation head, but pressure by militarists in Tokyo—and an offhand comment by the legendary Fleet Admiral and genro Tōgō Heihachirōto seize hold of the opportunity. Tokyo would walk back these instructions—but not only after the chips had fallen.
Washington panicked upon receipt of the message. Their fragile compromise seemed poised to collapse. Thus, the Americans hastily convened with the British in one of the most awkward sidebar discussions in diplomatic history. It was a disaster; the British even implied that they would no longer accept a pre-Exempter draft and would indeed need a third exempt ship to permit it to at least be a class of two ships instead of a second one-off. They had been hoisted on their own petard and would now have to live with it.
The final compromise would be a horrific kludge that bends the treaty to its very limit. The Americans would permit the completion of Tosa and Kaga only as treaty-compliant vessels. The new ships would have to sacrifice guns, armor, and machinery to reduce their displacement from ~40,000 tons normal to 35,000 tons standard; this would prove acceptable to the British and the Dovish Japanese delegation. The move to permit three Exempter ships for the UK and the US was much more controversial; however, the Japanese had received their updated instructions and were glad to sign the deal, which permitted them to reach a slightly more favorable ratio (11:18 instead of 9:15) while retaining a treaty system.
The final terms allow for fifteen capital ships of 35,000 tons and three capital ships of 45,000 tons for a total capital tonnage of 660,000 for the United States and the United Kingdom, with 145,000 tons for carriers. Correspondingly, the Japanese would be permitted nine capital ships of 35,000 tons and two Exempters for a total of 405,000 tons and 87,000 tons for carriers. While the French and Italians would be limited to 210,000 for capital warships (six vessels) and 60,000 tons for carriers.
In the end, the United States Navy got what it wanted, and a curled monkey’s paw it had not. However, they do not take this disaster is not taken lying down. The United States Navy will once more embrace one of its time-honored traditions to rectify things—bull-shiting money out of Congress and some creative definitions of what a “refit” is.
Nightmare Keel Rotation
The Japanese are both jubilant and exasperated. While they had gained and then lost parity in Extemper ships and had not reached their minimum desired ratio of 7:10, they had managed to narrow the gap and would have a 7/7/6 ratio in post-Jutland capital ships for the time being. Luck would also have it that they would have more 16-inch gun-armed ships than the Royal Navy.
Not wishing to push their luck, they will take Kaga and Tosa back into hand for their reconstruction down to 35,000 tons—primarily done by removing their fifth turret and associated barbette, some machinery, and not counting the displacement of the ship’s fuel or boiler feed. This renders the ships enlarged, repeat Nagatos. However, the Japanese government makes sure to carefully store all material removed from the ships… for future purposes.
Ashitaka and Atago are completed to the original Amagi-class specifications without significant alterations, despite Japan having the opportunity to add thousands of tons to reach the 45,000-ton limit for exempt ships. The Japanese government, mindful of allegations of cheating and the cost of reworking partially completed ships, refuses to rework the design—to the annoyance of many in the Imperial Naval General Staff.
Work continues on converting Amagi and Akagi into carriers. The decision to convert Amagi/Akagi instead of Atago/Ashitaka is controversial. Many argue that it would be better to convert the barely started ships instead of reworking a mostly completed design. However, the Government intervenes—fearful that they would be accused of cheating and mindful of the resources already spent on the conversion process.
Then, of course, disaster strikes. Literally.
The Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 devastates Tokyo and the surrounding province, including the Yokosuka Naval Arsenal—wrecking the still-under-construction Amagi. The ship is wrenched from its keel blocks, warping the hull beyond hope for repair. Thankfully for the Japanese, they are not left without recourse. The fast battleship Kii—a derivative of the Amagi-class battlecruiser—remained on a slipway in Kure Naval Yard, yet to be scrapped. In fact, her sister Owari—and their unnamed sister ships No. 11 and No. 12—would not be scrapped/canceled until August 1924.
The turrets for Amagi, Akagi, Owari, and Kii—a total of nineteen—would be parceled out, with six being converted into shore batteries for the army and the rest being sent to deep storage. Already, staff officers draw up plans on how to best use these new and improved mounts on currently existing ships—and for potential new ships.
Face like a Dog’s Breakfast, Heart of a Lion
The British, save for the Treasury, were pleased with the final terms of the Five Power Treaty. Compared with the two other major powers, their design process was simple. There were many iterations, but the risk of the assassination was significantly lower, and it required no enthusiastic interpretations of what constituted a reworking of a design versus a completely new one.
For their four new battleships—Nelson, Rodney, Drake, and Hawke—the Admiralty would select a modified O3 design armed with nine sixteen guns and displacing exactly 35,000 tons standard.1 The main departure from the O3 design is reworking the six-inch magazines to allow for increased machinery spaces and an official speed of 24.5 knots (functionally closer to 26). The Admiralty had preferred the F3 design, with a speed of 28 knots and armed with triple 15”/50 guns, but felt compelled to construct sixteen-inch gun-armed ships for the sake of prestige and to maximize their potential under the new limitations.
The British also decided to convert four carriers from capital ships, with the ex-G3 ships Agincourt and Quiberon selected for the UK’s special conversions (carriers of 38,000 tons). Courageous and Glorious are also taken in hand for conversion within the 27,000-ton limit for normal carriers.
For their two exempt battlecruisers, the British chose to modify the nominally begun ships Trafalgar and St. Vincent. The final design—E4—is, in many ways, an enlarged F3 rather than a shrunk G3. The ships are 789’ long, displace 44,750 tons standard, and can reach a speed of 30 knots (versus 740’/35,000 tons/28 knots for F3 and 856’/48,000 tons/32 knots for the G3); they are built with protection equal to their Nelson cousins. Their armament—three quadruple fifteen-inch guns in an all-forward arrangement—sets the class apart. These are a new type of gun, the BL 15-inch Gun Mark II with a longer 50-caliber barrel—opposed to the 42-caliber gun on the Mark I guns.
Several factors swung the Admiralty away from either the E3-16 or the E3-15 designs. The E3-15 design was considered not sufficiently armed for their size—not sufficient value for money—and overmatched by the Lexington and Amagi classes. There were also some in the Admiralty who doubted the viability of the new BL 16-inch Mark I gun (which would prove prescient).2 However, the single most important factor behind the adoption of the radical gun layout was that once the British began building BL 15-inch Mark II, they could easily upgrade the forest of BL 15-inch Mark I armed ships with the new gun, massively increasing the lethality of their battle-line without radically altering their weight.
As Admiral David Beatty, the First Sea Lord during the development of the E4 and O3 classes, put it in 1935:
With the Mark II we had a pocket aces in case the edifice of armament reduction came crashing down—as it bloody well has.
With the E4 design, even if the BL 15-inch Mark II was inferior to the likes of the US 16-inch/50-caliber Mark 2, Trafalgar and St. Vincent could simply overwhelm the target with a great volume of fire or escape with greater speed.
Legally, You Have to Say These Are The Same Ships
While Japan trembled at the thought of the other powers calling them on their good fortune and the United Kingdom merely followed the rules of the Treaty to their best possible advantage—the United States Navy would bend the treaty to the very limit out of pure spite. They had been hoisted on their own petard, and they would not let that stand without recompense.
Even which ships they selected were controversial—let alone the specifications they were built to. The USN selected USS Constitution (CC-5), USS United States (CC-6), and… USS Montana (BB-51).
The selection of Montana led to very pointed missives from the Japanese and British Governments. The exempt classification was intended for “trade protection,” a task that could hardly be fulfilled by a 43,000 23-knot dreadnought. The Americans had even asserted that the Tosa-class battleships, which were thought to be able to make 24 knots, were too slow to qualify for the category.
The US responded that Montana would be built to a revised capable of escorting slow-moving convoys from attackers, not to be a raider. This was true if dishonest, but also a predicated lie. The refreshed design (S-584-146) was capable of 25 knots and would displace precisely 45,000 tons. However, it was not a revision so much as a completely different ship. The British would not protest further as they understood it as a vindictive move targeted at the Japanese and that, accordingly, the monster would be contained to the Pacific. The Fleet Faction of IJN would use the “Montana Abuse” as a target for their ire and a plain example of the hypocrisy of the Treaty System.
While USS Montana (BB-51), as built, had striking departures with her BB-49 sisters, the completed battlecruisers USS Concord (CC-5) and USS Bunker Hill (CC-6) are, in practice, completely divorced from their CC-1 sisters.3 The Navy, unable to build the bevy of heavily armed scouting ships, decided to stop kvetching and learn to love the Hood. Thus, CC-5 and CC-6 were built to a variation of “Scheme B” for Battle Cruiser 1919 (S-584-135). This design included eight 16”/50 guns, an angled 12-inch main belt, and 33 knots of speed on exactly 45,000 tons standard.
The Navy was only stopped from building three “Scheme D” ships (30 knots with a 12-inch belt and twelve 16”/50 guns on 47,125 tons) because of concerns about extending the maximum allowed displacement (the US would’ve argued that they merely used the ships refit reserve of 3,000 tons during their construction). However, this would have almost certainly reignited the naval race—and more importantly, Congress had outright rejected the idea of giving even half the funds needed to build three Scheme D ships.
In fact, the Navy was only able to fund the reconstruction of the three ships—the Big Three—by dipping into other accounts and beseeching Congress for additional funds (which were not forthcoming). The ‘Puritan Program,’ named after USS Puritan (BM-1) ‘repaired’ into a new ship in 1874, almost killed the Navy’s treaty cruiser program.
With their extensive modifications and further complications with funding, Concord and Bunker Hill would commission after their half-sisters Lexington (CV-2) and Saratoga (CV-3). Montana would finish last after a mostly troubleless construction, and she would be the second and last battleship built on the US Pacific Coast.
The Italians would scrap their four Regina Elena pre-dreadnought battleships with the dreadnoughts Dante Alighieri and Leonardo da Vinci to provide money and materials to complete the languishing Francesco Carricolo as a battleship. The Marine Nationale attempted to gather funds to complete a capital ship to counter the Carricolo, but those moves would stall almost immediately.
From London to Geneva and Back Again (Twice)
The Washington Treaty signed in October 1923 was obviously not a perfect document, and over the years, loopholes were exposed that required addressing, especially with regard to cruiser submarines, large destroyers, and aircraft carriers displacing less than 10,000 tons standard displacement. There was also much desire, especially in the British camp, to impose further qualitative restrictions. The United States did not appreciate the potential budgetary wound that would be inflicted upon themselves if they were actually forced to build up to treaty requirements and wished to limit cruisers even further, something particularly unacceptable to the British and their global empire.
The first bout would be attempted in Geneva in 1927 and would prove a dismal failure.
Neither the French nor Italians attended; instead, they maintained that the proper venue was a League of Nations general disarmament conference—that conference would begin in Geneva in 1932.
The First Geneva Naval Conference would mostly serve as a tourney ground for the United States and the United Kingdom to spar over cruisers with Japan attempting to get the best deal possible. It would end without an agreement.
However, these discussions—followed up in 1929 with the new Hoover Administration—eventually led to a compromise on cruisers.
Thus, the Five Powers would assemble in January of 1930 and reach a new agreement. The loopholes would be closed, cruisers would be separated between heavy and light classifications, and the battleship holiday (pause on construction) would be extended for another five years. The powers would also relieve themselves of vessels in excess of the treaty’s numerical caps for (non-exempt) capital ships (15/15/9/6/6). There was an attempt to further reduce the cap on capital ships to 10/10/7/5/5, but this was vetoed by the French and Italians, who then also refused to sign the treaty.
The terms would set off a firestorm of resentment in Japan. The IJN was forced to retire two Kongo-class battlecruisers, leaving only Haruna in service; Hiei having been converted to a royal yacht and training ship in 1924 under the Washington Treaty. The battleship holiday extension, though reasonable under the economic conditions, also infuriated the Naval General Staff, who were preparing news designs to replace the Fusō and Kongo classes. Further, Japanese heavy cruiser construction would have to be curtailed, their large “special type destroyers” were now treaty-limited, and their plan to skirt requirements with under-10,000-ton carriers was also foiled.
These issues would lead to the resignation of Katō Kanji, then Chief of the Imperial General Staff, over his refusal to attend a state dinner in honor of the US Ambassador to Japan. He would be replaced by Prince Fushimi Hiroyasu, another member of the anti-treaty Fleet Faction.4 In a bid to control the Fleet Faction after the attempted assassination of Prime Minister Hamaguchi, the new Prime Minister Baron Wakatsuki Reijirō appointed moderate, ostensibly liberal admiral Mineo Ōsumi as the Minister of the Navy in late 1930.5
Baron Wakatsuki’s government, unable to control the Army and prevent the “Mukden Incident” from escalating into an invasion, would resign in late 1931. Prince Saionji Kinmochi, the last genrō and closest advisor to the Emperor, would ask conservative Rikken Seiyūkai leader Inukai Tsuyoshi to form a new government amidst the 1931 polycrisis. This first cabinet would be a minority government comprised of outright hostile factions. Despite a mandate from Prince Saionji to avoid drastic changes in policy and locked out of the Diet, Inukai would make several major policy changes.
He took Japan off the gold standard, deployed additional IJA forces to Manchuria and Tianjin, and issued a qualified denouncement of the Naval Treaties. These latter two moves were against the express orders of the Emperor, but by this time, the Army was completely out of civilian control, and the Navy was soon to be. Inukai, on the advice of Minister Mineo, would attempt to forestall further radicalization in the Navy by denouncing the treaties and unilaterally asserting quantitative parity—while also asserting that they would keep to the treaty system’s qualitative limits.
Critically, the Japanese Government would follow up this declaration with a major expansion program for Japan’s naval industry and shipyards—but not actually fund a shipbuilding program, yet, save for an experimental ship which the Diet was informed was merely like the cruiser Yubari from a decade prior.
Japan’s formal denunciation of the Washington and London Treaties was issued on December 29, 1931, forcing a conference of the contracting powers within the next year.
It seemed with Rikken Seiyūkai’s triumph in the February 1932 General Election that Inukai had threaded the needle and overcome the odds. He would be shot by radical junior naval officers in his office in May, six months after forming his government.
The horses were now out of the barn, and there would be no going back.
The denunciation of the treaty came as a shock to Washington and London—and was also met with profound confusion. The Japanese had announced that they would leave the treaty—but would still abide by its restrictions.
The world would not stop. The British and Americans would mount bilateral attempts to get the Italians and French to sign the London Treaty—without success. However, wider Anglo-American cooperation was ascetic—with a single informal conversation—with ill feelings from Geneva and the compromises of London at the forefront of both parties’ minds.
There was also another lingering issue: the treaty-mandated conference would begin in December 1932 and would likely last into 1933. If a new administration was elected in the 1932 US Presidential Election, the conference would most likely conclude just around when they were sworn in, with no time for new cabinet appointees, and the newly elected Congress wouldn’t be required to assemble until December. Despite the concern, the Hoover administration would press on, dispatching Secretary of the Navy Charles Francis Adams III and Chief of Naval Operations Admiral William V. Pratt to London in late November for the conference, scheduled to begin on December 3, 1932.
The United States hoped they would find a united front waiting in London. That hope would not materialize. Instead, they were blindsided by the substantial restrictions the British proposed, including reducing individual battleship tonnage to 25,000 tons standard and armament down to 12-inch guns. The British also proposed a massive increase in light cruiser—tonnage without offsetting that tonnage with new heavy cruiser tonnage for the United States.
These proposals landed like a sack of potatoes at a blue-blooded wedding.
The Second London Conference would last two and a half months, attempting to reach a deal. The Italians refused to attend at all. The French delegation left in the first week of January. The Japanese delegation pushed strongly for a codification of its unilateral assertion of parity in a calculated move. Naval Minister Mineo hoped to keep the broken treaty system alive just long enough that Japan could produce a significant qualitative edge paired with a quantitative draw before the US Congress would act.
The conference finally collapsed in February, mostly because the outgoing Hoover Administration was under pressure from Congress—especially Democratic senators who were soon to take control of the chamber and would be needed to ratify a new naval treaty. Roosevelt himself made clear to the Administration that he intended Congress to go into full session in March and not wait until December.
The Second London Conference, much like the First Geneva Conference, would end in failure—primarily because the United States and the United Kingdom were unable to get past their own policy differences. However, dialogue would continue between the two largest naval powers in the interim. Roosevelt himself was deeply invested in naval affairs, interested in keeping the treaty system alive, and was acquainted with most senior USN officers from his time as Assistant Secretary of the Navy during the Wilson Administration. Roosevelt not only wished to preserve the treaty system but also forestall an Anglo-Japanese Naval Agreement that would undermine the United States’ interest and position in the Pacific.
Newly minted Chief of Naval Operations William Standley and Secretary of the Navy Claude A. Swanson would be directed to Geneva soon after being confirmed to their new posts by Congress. They would join the head of the American delegation to the World Disarmament Conference, Norman Davis, for further consultation with the British.
What would be known as the Second Geneva Conference was, in fact, merely a sidebar to the much larger—and rapidly withering—World Disarmament Conference. The US and the UK were finally able to reach and mutually acceptable accommodation before bringing in the other treaty powers in July 1933. The Japanese would join in August and issue their opening bid. They would accept no less than quantitative parity and retroactive codification of their assertion of it, as they had at Second London. The United States and the United Kingdom had no interest in accepting this demand outright. However, the British were interested in some kind of compromise—but the United States, expecting a future conflict with Japan, was unwilling to budge.
The British were primarily interested in qualitative reductions for capital ships and a quantitative expansion of light cruisers. The French were also interested in reductions to capital ship tonnage and maximum guns so that their new Dunkerque class would not immediately become obsolete. The Japanese wished for further quantitative reductions in “offensive” warships (battleships and carriers).
The United States—through heavy lobbying of First Sealord Ernle Chatfield by CNO Standley—would develop a united front that would effectively set the terms for the treaty. The United States would make several qualified compromises. They would accept qualitative changes such as reducing maximum carrier displacement from 27,000 to 23,000 tons without reservation. Maximum capital ship displacement would stay at 35,000 tons, but the maximum gun caliber would be reduced to 14 inches. In a major compromise to the British, the US would accept a prohibition of cruisers with armament greater than 6.1-inch guns and/or displacement greater than 8,000 tons.
However, the United States would only accept the qualitative restrictions with a key reservation—they had to be accepted by the other Five Powers.
If any of the other powers refused to sign the new Treaty, the restriction of capital armament 14-inch armament would automatically revert back to 16-inch guns after one year. In addition, if any party refused to sign the treaty, the United States would be permitted to build up to its allotted cruiser tonnage under the London Treaty (i.e., the US may build 10,000-ton cruisers and fill remaining heavy cruiser tonnage).
In compensation, the United Kingdom was permitted to retain an additional vessel for trade protection, so long as it was retained by a non-British Commonwealth navy and operated in the Far East until new battleship construction began. This provision was tailored to allow the Royal Navy to keep HMS Tiger as “a caged cat”—a heavy unit for the Royal Australian Navy. The last of the Splendid Cats had been decommissioned in 1931 after the London Treaty but was never sent to the breakers after Japan withdrew from the Treaty System in December of that year.
A final provision would refits to be comprehensive—allowing changes to guns and armor—instead of limited to just additional protection against underwater and aerial threats.
The Japanese delegation, led by Rear Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, made one last push for a “common upper limit.” They were met with unanimous opposition. The Japanese delegation would then follow through with their orders from the Saito Government and withdraw from the conference.
The final terms would be the Safeguarding Clauses—generally referred to as Escalator Clauses—which would allow the signatories to meet and discuss potential revisions to the treaty to meet changing times.6
The Geneva Naval Treaty would be signed on 17th October 1933—just two days prior to Hitler’s withdrawal from the League of Nations.
Sound and Fury Signifying… Something? Potentially?
The Geneva Treaty—though often lost to the din caused by the German withdrawal from the League—was heralded as a significant success, especially after the dismal showing at London earlier that year. It also allowed the wider Geneva Conference to die a peaceful death with some accomplishment, even if it was much less than what was hoped for when it was begun.
The year 1934 would prove an inflection point.
Rumors continued of a new Japanese “super cruiser” program along the lines of the “pocket battleships” of the Reichsmarine. The Japanese denied any such program and that the ships under construction were merely large, unarmored training ships armed with left over 12-inch guns from their armored cruisers. This was, of course, clearly a paltry deception, even if the warships’ true nature was obscured by their enclosed dry docks. Estimates by British and American intelligence put the ships at roughly 810-foot length and 90-foot beam, displacing approximately 23,000 tons.
In a much more transparent move, the Japanese were seen reinstalling the fifth turrets on Tosa and Kaga amidst a previously scheduled major refit. Details of the Japanese shipbuilding program were scarce and hazy for the time. There were expectations that after these unknown “training ships” were launched, the United States would call for a Four Power escalator consultation to provide revisions.
The United States would, in expectation of the cruiser escalator clause of the Geneva Treaty, pass the Vinson-Trammell Act (otherwise known as the First Vinson Act or the Naval Parity Act), authorizing funds so that the US could build up its fleet to its treaty-authorized tonnage to match the Royal Navy and keep pace with the Japanese Navy.
The Act would also provide seventy million dollars for the refit of USS Concord (CC-5), USS Bunker Hill (CC-6), and USS Montana (BB-51). These refits would be closer to total reconstructions with new machinery and significant increases in deck armor and torpedo protection. Montana’s refit would be the most comprehensive, permitting an increase in speed from 25 to 28 knots. Montana, after its refit was completed in 1937, would be the most dangerous ship in the world—The Pacific Monster.
At the same time, the Admiralty in Britain would propose what would become the “Chatfield Plan” for the modernization of the RN’s battle fleet—a battle line with a 28-knot standard and the replacement of BL 15”/42 Mark I guns with the more powerful 15”/50 Mark II gun. HMS Warspite and the soon-to-be HMAS Tiger would be the trial ships. Both would receive an extended clipper bow and have their power plants totally replaced. This would allow Warspite to reach 28 knots and Tiger to reach 30 knots. The ships would also see significant up-armoring with entirely new superstructures. Tiger would retain her BL 13.5”/45 Mark V guns with the majority of the United Kingdom’s spare barrels and ammunition gifted to Australia along with the ship herself. Warspite would be the first ship to be up-gunned with the BL 15”/50 Mk II guns in new turrets with higher maximum elevation.
The Chatfield Plan wouldn’t become formally adopted until 1936. It would see HMAS Tiger, HMS Warspite, HMS Queen Elizabeth, and HMS Valiant rebuilt. The Nelson-class battleships have less substantial refits—receiving new engines and major fixes to their turrets to permit them to reach 28 knots. HMS Renown would likewise receive a Queen Anne’s Mansion and a major refit.
However, the RN did not have unlimited dry dock space or money. HMS Hood, HMS Trafalgar, HMS St. Vincent, HMS Malaya, HMS Barham, and HMS Repulse were not substantially refitted—the ships only received new guns and modified turrets in brief refits. The Revenge-class battleships, scheduled for replacement with the Battleship 1936 class (what would become the King George V class), were not refitted at all.
In October, the Italian Regia Marina’s general staff made a fateful decision. There had been a furious debate on how to respond to France’s Dunkerque-class battleships; it was agreed that the 15-inch gun-armed battleship Francesco Caracciolo would be reconstructed while the two older Conte di Cavour-class battleships would be scrapped to provide raw materials to accelerate the new Littorio-class fast battleships. Littorio will be armed with nine improved versions of the Caracciolo’s 15”/40 guns, though officially, they will be armed with 12-inch guns bored out and relined to 12.6-inch.
On 29th December 1934, Japan would unveil its Great Gamble.
Two sleek, long hulls were launched on the same day from covered docks.
They were distinctly cruiser-shaped with a block co-efficient to match. The hulls had two massive barbettes—much too large for twin 12-inch guns; though the story had changed, they were now for the 14-inch guns from the now ‘demilitarized’ Kongo-class battlecruisers. All at a claimed displacement of 15,000 tons.
Ikoma and Aso would be met mostly with perplexed shock in Washington and London.
The ships appeared to be copies of Jackie Fisher’s beloved but infamous Courageous-class Large Light Cruisers—ships that were so lightly built that they were damaged by firing their guns and required hundreds of tons of stiffening to keep them from falling apart. The reaction of the US Navy and Royal Navy could be summed up in a single sentence.
This is what they’d been building?
It Appears My Superiority Has Led to Some Controversy
Ikoma and Aso were just shy of 798 feet on a beam of 84 feet and displaced just under 20,00 tons standard. Their main armament was a pair of 41cm/45 3rd Year Type guns in two-gun turrets planned for the first pair of Amagi-class battlecruisers. They were also armed with six dual 5”/40 Type 89 secondaries and four triple torpedo tubes and were armored to a cruiser standard with a six-inch angled belt and two-and-half-inch deck. With 10 Kampon boilers producing 191,000 shaft-horsepower, they could reach 36.5 knots.
In Japanese nomenclature, the new class were Toko-gata Sōkō jun'yōkan—special type, large armored cruisers. They were not battlecruisers—nor were they either Type A or Type B cruisers (heavy and light treaty cruisers, respectively). They were to be the IJN cruiser force’s apex predators—long teeth, long legs. They were to fill the void left by the demilitarized Kongo-class battlecruisers as leaders of the Navy’s advance force. In the words of Admiral Kanji:
They shall be like knives in the dark.
With tremendous speed and ferocious firepower, they would slash through the US Navy’s screens at night and level the odds between the dueling battlelines ahead of a surface action the following day. Japanese planners expected they could be victorious if they could bring a force either equal to or at least two-thirds the strength of the Americans. Outside of the decisive battle, the ships could serve as commerce raiders (though this was considered a misallocation of resources and more or less shelved) or to provide an overmatch against the American scouting and screening forces in all venues or conditions, save for an action against a Lexington-class battlecruiser, even then the IJN’s light forces would have the speed to escape if they could not win.
The ships needed armor to resist eight-inch shellfire (6 or 7 inches was considered sufficient) and speed to escape Concord and Bunker Hill (at least 34 knots, as the IJN considered the effective speed of the US CCs to be 32 knots).
The special type cruisers fit well into the architecture of the “Whistling Settlement” within the Imperial Navy, which would see the fruits of the expected naval expansion meted out. So named for the unanswered whistling of a kettle at the tea parlor where the compromise was first broached—the air was so tense that none of the parlor employees dared move. First of all, the Navy would not begin building new battleships until the 1936 Naval Armament Program so as not to provoke the early termination of the battleship holiday and incite Anglo-American naval rearmament (and because the Naval General Staff could not decide what battleships to order).
The 1934 Naval Armament Program would be a step forward with a major expansion of the fleet, but it would be a compromise between the factions of the Imperial Navy over whether the future was still in the battle line or in the carrier.
The Carrier Faction would gain two purpose-built fleet carriers—what would become Soryū and Hiryū—and four dedicated light carriers—Zuihō, Shōhō, Ryuhō, and Sekihō. These new carriers would serve as the primary scouting platforms for the Combined Fleet, allowing the last two Mogami-class cruisers (Tone and Chikuma) to be completed as dedicated combatants. The fleet carriers Akagi would also be reconstructed with the lessons over the prior half-decade, following the ongoing reconstruction of Kii.
The Battleship Faction would not gain any new capital ships—to the chagrin of many admirals—however, nearly the Japanese battle fleet would be rebuilt. The original plan was for the Amagi and Tosa classes to be rebuilt into something approximating a single class of 30-knot battleships. However, this would not be actualized. Tosa and Kaga would be reconstructed, with new boilers and massively extended bows, so that they could reach 30 knots. Atago and Ashitaka’s refits would see their top speed increase to 32 knots, with the Japanese preferring speed to uniformity. Nagato and Mutsu would also see their speed increase to 29 knots in their reconstructions. This would give the Japanese six fast capital ships armed with powerful 16-inch guns.
The most controversial decision of the 1934 “Circle 2” Plan was how to deal with the Kongo-class battlecruisers. Hiei had long been demilitarized, serving as a training ship and the Emperor’s yacht. After the 1930 London Treaty, Kirishima and Kongo were also deactivated—Kirishima into another training ship and Kongo into a target ship. This left only Haruna as the sole operational vessel of the class. The latter ships had yet to be re-activated by 1934 and were in desperate need of a major overhaul—even then, they were outclassed by the Amagis, Tosas, and even the planned Nagato refit.
However, their sorry state meant that the Japanese had a total of six 36cm/45 41st Year turrets in storage, with ten more on obsolescent, second-generation battlecruisers that could only make 28 knots.
The Battleship Faction proposed a compromise: if the special type cruisers were a success, the weapons of the old battlecruisers would be reused on at least one class of four follow-on special type cruisers while the hulls would be converted into carriers or modernized in the next naval armament program. This was agreeable but also caused an issue—a mathematical one. The new special-type cruisers would be armed with three refurbished 36cm turrets each. Thus, a class of four would require 12—but there would be 16 turrets freed up from the Kongo. If the Naval General Staff wanted more special type cruisers, they would need turrets—stripped from old warships or newly manufactured ones. The latter was considerably disfavored.
However, the oldest Japanese battleships, the Fuso and Ise-class, remained. These were armed with 36cm guns and of marginal value. One enterprising young officer who had been a naval attache in the Japanese embassy in Rome remembered a proposed refit of the Conte di Cavour-class battleships. The old battleships would lose their amidship turrets for the special type cruiser program; they would be lengthened at the stern and bow and would have expanded machinery spaces. They would lose four guns, down to eight from twelve, but in their place, they would gain large aviation facilities for scout floatplanes and, ideally, four or five knots. These decidedly second-class battleships could, at the very least, provide dedicated scouting for the Combined Fleet’s battle line and air-corrected gunfire support for naval landings.
The Whistling Compromise left many in the various factions frustrated, but it was a mutually acceptable frustration. It would stand.
The Treaty Powers were utterly bewildered, especially the Americans and British. The Japanese had technically broken the battleship holiday, procuring ships with guns larger than 8 inches and displacing more than 10,000 tons. The new ships were also ostensibly below the minimum displacement threshold (17,500 tons) set for capital ships under the Geneva Treaty. The Japanese logic for how this did not violate their commitment to the qualitative limitations of the treaty was not compelling, settling on a national security need to resist American heavy cruisers and following the prescendent of the Deutschland-class panzerschiff.
The United States would summon a consultation of the Treaty Powers in March 1935 to discuss the new ships. Neither the Americans nor the British were particularly interested in ending the battleship holiday, especially the British. There was much fear about the Ikoma class causing the collapse of the treaty system. However, none of the parties were particularly interested in allowing that to pass.
It was agreed that a new classification of ships, sub-capital “large heavy cruisers,” was justified. The only real point of contestation was upper tonnage. The British wished for a band of 15,000 to 20,000 tons—while the Americans wished for an upper limit of 25,000 tons. Armament would be limited to 12 inches, in the hope that the Japanese could be convinced to down-gun their ships. Japan would agree but never carry out the modifications. The French wanted an upper limit 14-inch limit for guns so that their Dunkerque-class battleships could retroactively qualify.
The final agreement was a limit of 20,000 tons, but 25,000 tons if Japan did not carry out modifications to comply with weapons restrictions within six months. In a final inducement for the Japanese, the total “super-cruiser” tonnage would be equal—two ships per nation and a total tonnage of either 40,000 or 50,000 tons standard.
The Japanese would be able to keep their ships if they re-joined. They would complete Ikoma and Aso with “36cm” guns and also begin work on the follow-on Tsukuba-class special type cruisers.
The US Navy would also be able to squeeze Congress for additional funding in 1935 for a major refit of the Tennessee-class battleships—following the refits of the Idaho-class battleships, Lexington-class battlecruisers, and the Montana. The refit would be deep and see the ships’ twelve 14”/50 Mark 4 guns replaced with eight 16”/45 Mark 5 guns. Congress was concerned about the refits of the Tosa-class battleships but was mostly interested in limiting costs by forestalling calls for new battleship construction.
The Navy wished its Mighty Nine—the two Tennessee, four Colorado, two Lexington, and one Montana-class ships—to possess a uniform 16-inch main battery. There was even a proposal to refit the Mighty Nine with the new 16”/50 Mark 6 from the refit of the refits of the Big Three (Concord, Bunker Hill, and Montana) that began in 1934, but this would prove to be too expensive and not actualized.
Somehow More Perfidious Albion
The British would broach another topic at the Consultation—how the Treaty Powers should engage with Nazi Germany. The British, wishing to bind Germany with an air armament control treaty, saw including Hitler’s Germany in the Washington Treaty System—as opposed to being limited by Versailles—as the first step toward that goal.
The French delegation went apoplectic at the implication that the British had entered negotiations with the Germans to accept their rearmament. They asserted the Treaty Powers should reject the German’s right to rearmament—Hitler’s government having renounced Versailles just days before the start of the Consultation—and that if they were to permit rearmament, it would have to be the result of a general disarmament conference. The Italians also wished for such matters to be settled by a global, general conference. The British wanted half a loaf—and one that covered their own ass. FDR would agree with the British assessment when meeting with their delegates; when he met with the French, he would agree that the British had gone too far; the Roosevelt Administration was deadset on getting the escalator clause invoked—Japan was their overriding concern—not Versailles and Germany.
In session, the Americans would steer the course back to the topics for which the consultation was called. The British would relent and concur that it appeared that the consensus was for a general disarmament conference. The French would take this as the British had given up the issue.
The Baldwin Government and Nazi German would sign the Anglo-German Naval Agreement in June. Permitting a treaty-compliant German Navy 35% of the strength of the Royal Navy without consulting the French or Italians—and only notifying the Americans before the signing of the treaty. The Germans would only be permitted five treaty capital ships (versus six for the French)—the ratio excluding the Royal Navy’s 45,000-ton exempt ships.
The Germans would also secure British accession for 40,000 tons of Large Heavy Cruiser displacement as stipulated by the 1935 Washington Consultation, though this provision was exempt from the escalator clause and would not increase to 50,000 tons.
Livin’ in a Super-Cruiser World
With the 1935 Washington Consultation legalizing a new class of warship, only the Italians would not pursue a large heavy cruiser program. This is because the Italians did not see a need for a cruiser killer when they were already building fast battleships armed with nine 15-inch guns; even something like an Italian 12-inch gun armed anti-Dunkerque would just siphon finite resources away from the Littorio-class battleships.
The Americans would pursue a maximalist design—25,000 tons and 12-inch guns. The finalists were a six-gun (three twins) and a seven-gun design (two twins forward, one triple aft). The General Board would select the six-gun design, as it could have better armor protection and additional anti-air weapons, positioning the ships to be cruiser hunters and natural carrier escorts.
The sisters would be named Ticonderoga and Shiloh. House Naval Affairs Committee Chairman Carl Vinson would attempt to veto the latter name but was rebuffed. The pair of ships would suffer from considerable vibrations because of their novel skeg design.7 However, the tribulations with the Ticonderoga class would ensure that the North Carolina, South Dakota, and Iowa class battleships would not face similar issues.
While the US pursued a maximalist design, the British and French admiralties would try to aim for 16,000-ton designs—large, heavy cruisers instead of baby battlecruisers.
Well, the Royal Navy would aim for a 16,000 design to squeeze three vessels out of their 50,000 tons. However, the Treasury—fuming at the expenses of the Chatfield Plan—would thwart hopes for a third ship. So, the Admiralty would get only two ugly ducklings. The ships would displace 25,000 tons and be armed with new sixteen BL 8”/60 Mk IX guns in four quadruple turrets loaded with heavy armor-piercing shells. The ships could only manage 30.75 knots but would have astonishing protection for cruisers. The two ships, Defence and Black Prince were built to hunt Pocket Battleships—to resist all comers and deliver a deluge of high-velocity 8-inch shellfire.
The French would settle on a 16,600-ton design—more or less an enlarged Algerie with moderately improved armored and four triple (instead of twin) 8-inch gun turrets. The ships would begin work in 1936. The first two ships, République and Démocratie, would be completed before the start of the Second World War. République would be interned in Alexandria, while Démocratie would be seized by the Free French in Dakar along with the battleship Richelieu. The final ship, Liberté, would be almost finished with its outfitting in Brest during the Fall of France and would make its way to internment in Toulon.
The Germans would eventually settle on a revision of the D-class panzerschiff that had begun work in 1934 before being canceled in favor of Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. Officially, the ships would displace 13,300 tons standard, ostensibly a modest revision on the Deutschland-class panzerschiff so that the Kriegsmarine could procure three under the terms of the Anglo-German Naval Agreement. The class—Mackensen, Von Der Tann, Moltke—would actually displace 23,580 tons standard.
So An Italian and A Dutchman Walk Into a Bar
One nation absolutely terrified by the launch of Ikoma and Aso was the Kingdom of the Netherlands. The swift, large cruisers were seen as a particular threat to the light naval forces defending their colonies. The arrival of super-cruisers incited enough public outcry to force the government to take a significant increase in naval forces seriously. However, the Dutch did not have the infrastructure or industrial base to build capital ships.
So they went shopping. They ended up at Italy’s doorstep.
They would go to Ansaldo and ask for a 25,000-ton ship with 12-inch guns. Ansaldo and the Italian Government would be more than happy to comply, using a modified version of the 1928 battlecruiser design. The Dutch and Italian Governments would sign a contract in 1935 for 250 Million Dutch Gilders (2 billion Italian Lira)—ƒ75 million per hull and an additional ƒ25 million for infrastructure in the summer of 1935. The first ship’s hull would be built in Italy. The succeeding ships would be built in the Netherlands. However, 75% of the material and fittings would be sourced from the Italians—this included all weapons, machinery, and armor.
The final design would be 26,500 tons, with twelve 12-inch guns in four triple turrets and eight twin 120mm guns as dual-purpose secondaries. It would have a 10-inch belt, a 4-inch deck, and be capable of 30 knots. The ships would be named Prins van Oranje, De Zeven Provinciën, and Gouden Leeuw.
The program started out controversial and only became more controversial as the Abyssian Crisis became the Second Italo-Ethiopian War. The contract provided a vast sum of material and foreign currency to the Italian Regime—infuriating the British and embarrassing the Dutch.
In 1937, the Dutch Government succumbed to international pressure and canceled the contract after the launch of Prins van Oranje and the keel laying of De Zeven Provinciën at Rotterdamsche Droogdok Maatschappij. The Dutch would then sign a new deal with Vickers-Armstrong to complete the class. The ships would be built in Rotterdam but outfitted in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. The British could not offer a 12-inch gun but were willing to sell the Dutch older BL 15”/42 Mk I guns and turrets that were surplus to requirements because of the Chatfield Plan refits.
The ships would have a distinctive profile, as the Italians had already prepared and delivered their prospective conning towers to Rotterdam; the British didn’t believe such heavy structures were necessary. The Dutch would insist; thus, the ships would have a Littorio-style superstructure, with an armored conning tower, installed aft of a Queen Anne’s Mansion-style forward superstructure.
Prins van Oranje would be completed in 1939. De Zeven Provinciën would be outfitting in Newcastle, and Gouden Leeuw would be nearing her launch when Germany invaded the Netherlands. Prins van Oranje and De Zeven Provinciën were present for the Battle of the Java Sea. Gouden Leeuw would be launched by the Germans under the name Derflinger, joining the latter half of Operation CERBERUS, being completed in 1943 with German weapons and equipment.
Despite the contract being canceled, the Italians would gain roughly 1 billion Lira in foreign currency and an additional billion Lira in materiel purchased by Dutch cut-outs (the Italians had purchased more material than needed to circumvent sanctions). This was equivalent to roughly three Littorio-class battleships. In fact, the program would fund the fifth ship of the class—Lepanto. The Dutch currency, paired with the sequential scrapping of the outdated Conte di Cavour and Andrea Doria classes, would allow the Italians to complete their new build battleships in an orderly fashion.
The Italo-Dutch contract would also provide the seed funding for the Regia Marina’s follow-on class of battleships—and also a thirty-year legal case about restitution for defrauding the Dutch. The follow-on class would be—more or less—stretched and improved Littorios armed with twelve guns in four turrets. The Regia Marina wished for four ships but would only ever order two—Giulio Cesare and Marcantonio Colonna. The ships would stress Italian naval infrastructure and prove to be less maneuverable than hoped, earning them the nicknames “Porco Giulio” and “Ma Dona Colonna.”
In response to the accelerated construction of Italian capital ships, the French would attempt to match with their own construction of Richelieu-class battleships. However, the capacity of French docks was simply unable to cope with the demand. Thus, the French were only able to complete two ships—Richelieu and Jean Bart before the end of the war. Clemenceau would be hastily readied and launched amid the Fall of France, escaping to Casablanca, where it would duel with the third South Dakota-class sister, Massachusetts, in October 1942.
It’s Less Treaty Cheating and More Treaty Cuckolding
1936 would see the 3rd Naval Armament Supplement Programme enacted for the Imperial Japanese Navy. It would fund the Shōkaku-class carriers, the first two Yamato-class battleships, two more Tsukuba-class special type cruisers, the first two follow-on Tsuguri-class special type cruisers, and four Agano-class light cruisers—among other vessels (support ships and escorts). The programme would also fund an expansion of the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service and the conversion of the Kongo class into fleet carriers.
The Tsukuba class would be a downgrade in gun caliber but have an increase in total throw weight thanks to their third 14-inch turret. Likewise, this second class would see increased armor protection, quadruple instead of triple torpedo tubes, and an increased secondary battery—all at a minor cost in speed. In general, they would be much improved from their Ikoma-class sisters, having moved out of the shadow of the Courageous-class large light cruisers and become a distinctly Japanese culmination of large heavy cruisers.
The Japanese would also begin construction of their first class of light cruiser since the completion of the Sendai class in the 1920s. The Aganos were exceptionally light and exceptionally fast, closer to destroyer leaders than true cruisers—which is fitting of their role as destroyer squadron flagships.
1936 would also see the British and Americans finalize work on their first planned set of treaty battleships. One thing in the interim that became clear was that 35,000 was not sufficient tonnage for a symmetric (protected against its own armament) 16-inch gun-armed battleship.
The British would choose Design 15D—a 35,000-ton design with a 14.5-inch belt and 6-inch deck, nine BL 15”/50 Mk II guns in triple turrets, and a top speed of 28.5 knots. The British would begin construction as soon as the battleship holiday had ended—however, delays caused by industrial bottlenecks would plague the ships.
The United States Navy would nearly select a “Concord/Hood type” design with eight 16”/45 guns in four twin turrets. However, it was not sufficiently protected. Lessons from the Ticonderoga-class large cruisers and a desire by the General Board for a symmetric ship would see voluminous numbers of iterations between 1934 and 1936.
The final decision was Scheme XXIII, selected in early 1937. The ship would reach 28 knots, barely, with boilers positioned above the turbines and a sharply inclined internal belt (which was only barely accepted). The ship would be armed with nine 16”/45 Mark 7 guns in triple turrets and ten 5”/38 twin mounts. This would all be achieved on a little over 36,000 tons with an overall length of 696 feet.
The Navy, influenced by its experience with Concord, Bunker Hill, and the post-refit Montana, was keenly interested in ensuring the speed of the new ships. The refits of the Concords and the construction of Ticonderogas accelerated the development of more advanced boiler designs and helped maximize the efficiency of the machinery layout of the new designs. There was even a radical and optimistic proposal to use untested centrifugal jet turbines based on the 1930 Whittle patent to provide power for BB-55 and 56, in addition to boilers and geared turbines; however, the plan was considered incredibly impracticable, overly expensive, and almost certainly would at least two additional years to the construction time.
In 1937, the United States, the United Kingdom, and France held another consultation to address a new set of concerns. Italy refused to attend after the Dutch withdrew from their Ansaldo contract and signed their new contract with Vickers-Armstrong but later assented to the proposals. The meeting convened in DC just weeks before the Marco Polo Bridge Incident.
The United States announced it would procure an additional fleet carrier with the balance of its remaining tonnage; critically, the US had roughly 16,000 tons remaining, which, combined with the 3,000 tons allowed “refits,” would permit it to build another Yorktown-class carrier. The Navy was expecting to fight for this move and was willing to sacrifice the President’s insistence that a new legal category of “battle carrier” to get their full-sized carrier (US intelligence had assessed that hybrid conversion was the end goal of the Kongo-class battlecruisers). The French and British immediately rejected this new category but did not require any further convincing to accept the new carrier as a one-off to counter the Japanese, pending a new general naval treaty.
The US Navy was confident that it could match two or three presumed battle carriers with a single fleet carrier. There was debate over how many of the Kongos were to be converted. Haruna and Kirishima were likely. Hiei was considered probable, but Kongo was considered unlikely, as the US assumed that she would remain a target ship.
There was also the issue of battleship displacement. It was clear to all parties that maximum displacement needed to be increased; the requirements for reasonable deck armor and underwater protection had grown considerably since 1922—effective battle ranges had grown, and so had torpedo warheads. The consultation would agree to lift the maximum displacement of battleships to 45,000 tons.
The Italians (retroactively) and the United States would be the only states to take advantage of the larger displacement. The Italian Littorios were already 40,000 tons; the follow-on Giulio Cesares would displace 49,900 tons standard and be the largest warships built in Europe until the French supercarrier Foch in late the 1950s.
The Navy would request a 45,000-ton battleship for BB-57, but Congress would only provide the money and statutory tonnage for ships of 40,000 tons per ship. They would become the South Dakota-class battleships.
This class would be armed with nine of the new 16”/50 Mark 8 guns. The Mark 8, a lightened version of the 50-caliber Mark 6 gun, was rapidly designed and built using much of the work completed by the clean-sheet 45-caliber Mark 7 gun used on the North Carolina class. The gun was originally ordered to refit Concord, Bunker Hill, and Montana so the Big Three could handle the new 2,700 super-heavy Mark 8 shell. The rapid refits in 1939-1943 would also see the Big Three lose their 5”/25 pedestal mounts and remaining 6”/53 casemates in favor of a uniform secondary battery of twin 5”/38s.
The new Mark 8 would be plugged into the still-under-construction South Dakota-class ships. The ships would also be equipped with ten twin 5”/38s mounts and have a maximum speed of 30 knots. Protection would be comparable to that of the North Carolina-class battleships. Most of the additional displacement would go to the extra deck armor and armor belt needed to protect a larger hull.
Continued Japanese super cruiser construction would lead the US to push for further super cruiser tonnage and an increase in the tonnage limits for the classification. The US wanted 35,000 tons—however, the British would negotiate that down to a ‘mere’ 30,000 tons for what was still a cruiser. The UK did not have any particular interest in further large cruisers but was not pressed about permitting the Americans to counter the Japanese.
The US would begin construction on the Alaska-class large cruisers, with two in FY38 (Alaska and Guam), two in FY39 (Philippines and Puerto Rico), three in FY40 (Hawaii, Panama, Virgin Islands), and one in FY41 (Samoa). Only the first four vessels would be completed as large cruisers; the latter four would have their construction delayed by shortages of steel and labor—and the prioritization of carriers. They would, however, be completed as CBC—large command cruisers—during the Steel Glut.
The American large cruisers would, in all, be a better investment than their Japanese opposites. They had substantially better above-water protection—though underwater protection was comparably dire—and they had considerably better firepower, as the American 5”/38 and 12”/50 Mark 8 were markedly better than their IJN equivalents. In fact, the Mark 18 super-heavy shell was superior to the vintage 14”/50 caliber guns on the older Standard battleships.
The Japanese Diet would enact a 4th Naval Armament Supplement Programme in 1938, which would fund the final two ships of the Tsuguri-class special type cruisers, two additional Yamato-class battleships, provide additional funding for the Kongo carrier conversions (which had proved more difficult and expensive than hoped), four Type B Yoshino-class light cruisers (improved Agano), and a raft of new destroyers.
The final class of special type cruisers would see a major addition to their list of roles—carrier escort. The previous two classes of special type cruisers had de facto served in this role, but the Tsurugis would be armed with a considerable battery of 10cm anti-aircraft guns and an additional set of torpedo tubes. The class would be thrust directly into the fires of the Pacific War, with Tsurugi and Kurama having their shakedown cruisers while escorting the Kido Butai to Hawaii.
The Yamato-class battleships, the giants of the ocean, would see an earlier but otherwise unaccelerated development and construction. The Japanese would not modify Shinano. it would be completed as a battleship in August 1942. Owari would be substantially modified as Japanese industry strained to keep pace with their huge naval programme. Joining her once sistership Kii, she would be completed as a carrier after tense deliberation in early 1942.
The Japanese would also order a class of improved Agano-type cruisers to continue replacing their older Great War-style light cruisers. The Yoshinos would see a major increase in armament and armor over the Aganos, with roughly 2,000 tons of extra displacement.
Panic! At the General Board
The War in Europe began in September 1939 and would kill the Treaty System.
USS Hornet (CV-8) would be laid down that same month.
1940 would be no better. In fact, the events of that year would shake the United States to its very foundations. France was the greatest land power in Europe; it had withstood four years of brutal fighting in the First World War; it was a sister republic to the United States—and it collapsed in six weeks against all expectations.
In the following weeks, Congress would authorize a 70% increase in the US Navy's displacement with the Two Ocean Navy Act. Franklin Roosevelt would be nominated for an unprecedented third term as President. Then, Congress would also enact a peacetime draft for the first time in American history.
Then, another revelation—the Kongo-class battlecruisers had not been converted into fool-hardy, half-ass battle carriers; they had been converted into full fleet carriers. US intelligence believed that Kirishima, Hiei, and Haruna had been converted, but Kongo had remained a target ship. Much like how American intelligence assessed that the Nagato and Tosa class were only capable of 23-knots for over a decade, this was not accurate.
Thus, in 1940, the United States had five fleet carriers—Lexington, Saratoga, Yorktown, Enterprise, and Wasp; with one light carrier, Ranger, also in service (but of questionable value) and one fleet carrier under construction, Hornet.
Japan had a total of seven fleet carriers in service (though it was closer to roughly 6.5 fleet carriers functionally)—Akagi, Kii, Soryū, Hiryū, Zuikaku, Haruna, and Kirishima; an additional three carriers under construction—Shōkaku and Hiei were both outfitting—while Kongo had proved to be a problem and had not yet launched. In addition, the IJN had six light carriers—Hōshō, Ryūjō, and the four Zuihō-class carriers.
The General Board would request funding and authorization to immediately lay down three carriers. Congress would balk at the idea, as the design of the Essex had not yet been finalized, and there were concerns express-ordered ships would run into issues like the Ticonderoga-class large cruisers or delay the construction of eight additional Essex-class carriers ordered under the Two Ocean Navy Act.
Roosevelt would be able to push Congress for a single fleet carrier, which would be an intermediate design between the Yorktown and Essex-class carriers with the powerplant of an Alaska-class large cruiser and a pair of new-built light carriers using the powerplant and a (modified) hull of a Baltimore-class heavy cruiser. The US Navy was hesitant to accept the light carriers because they would mean delays to heavy cruiser production, but it felt compelled to rush the additional flat-top hulls.
In July of 1940, the United States ordered USS Essex (CV-9), USS Bonhomme Richard (CV-10), USS Intrepid (CV-11), USS Kettle Creek (CVL-12), and USS Kings Mountain (CVL-13). CV-10, CVL-12, and CVL-13 were laid down in August. In fact, Bonhomme Richard would be laid down only 23 days after being ordered.
The carriers would have exceptionally operational lives—sacrificed in the maelstrom of iron, fuel oil, and blood in the South Pacific. “BHR” or “Bonny Prince Dicky” was well-loved by her crew and aviators, and her additional anti-aircraft armament would help protect her half-sisters in the naval fights surrounding Guadalcanal and Espiritu Santo. Her gunners would spare Hornet from a hit at the Battle of the Second Eastern Solomons in October, shooting an AP bomb out of the air in her second action.
The Kettle Creeks—known as Shit Creek and Death Mountain—were not so well-loved. They would prove to be dangerously top-heavy—with next to nothing in the way of protection. However, the pair would see constant use, ferrying aircraft and covering convoys to Guadalcanal. They would prove to be maneuverable in a pinch, even if the experience often left sailors without their lunch or covered in a colleague’s sick. Kettle Creek would dodge eight torpedos during an attack on Convoy CD-32 in August while operating with HMS Ark Royal. Kings Mountain would dodge three of the famed Fritz-X-derived “Screaming Charlie” Type 02 radar-homing anti-ship missiles before being struck by a torpedo and breaking in half during the Second Battle of Coral Sea.
In late 1941, Roosevelt would direct the Navy to prepare designs for additional light carriers based on the Kettle Creek design, which would become the Princeton-class light carrier. The Navy would accept delays to Baltimore-class heavy cruisers (which would be delayed by six months across the board), but this was tolerable in light of further light cruiser production and the completion of the first four Alaska-class large cruisers.
In reality, the Kongo-class carriers would prove to be extremely temperamental. The ships were considered third-rate, and their crews were somehow even worse. Their new machinery had considerable quality assurance issues. In a notably embarrassing incident, Kongo would have a boiler detonate while launching aircraft for the attack on Rabaul in January 1942; the ship would lose power and force Akagi to make a hard turn to port to avoid a collision. The resulting violence when the ships returned to Truk would kill nine. Kongo would be out of operation until the end of May and barely make it to the Battle of Midway. At the battle, Hiei would be destroyed by a single bomb hit, which set off three of her magazines in rapid succession. Kongo would only survive because she had lost control of her steering and drove into a rain squall by sheer coincidence—dousing the raging fires and giving just enough time for the ship’s intoxicated chief engineer to get two boilers back online.
They would more than earn their derisive collective nickname, the “Four Boards of the Emperor.” This is both a reference to the “Four Swords of the Emperor,” the four Tosa and Amagi sisters—and the fact that Hiei had been the Emperor’s yacht.
The ships would displace as much as an Essex with an air group that was only one-half to two-thirds the size, three to four knots less speed, and with considerably inferior survivability. Admiral Jisaburō Ozawa, speaking after the war, would bitterly regret the decision to convert them, noting that if the IJN had scrapped them, the scrap displacement would’ve been equal to half a dozen Hiryū-type carriers.
The OTL Nelson-class battleships displaced only 33,600 tons.
The BL 16”/45 Mark I would be premised on an incorrect notion that lighter, higher velocity shells would prove better penetrating power at ranges—when, in fact, heavier shells would provide better penetrative power because the speed of the lighter shells would bleed off in most cases.
The decision to rename USS Constitution and USS United States would lead to CL-10 being renamed Arlington instead of its originally planned name, Concord, before commissioning in November 1923.
OTL Katō was replaced by Treaty Faction admiral Taniguchi Naomi, who would be sacked in 1932.
OTL Wakatsuki would appoint Treaty Faction admiral Kiyokazu Abo.
This is the mechanism by which battleship tonnage was allowed to increase in 1938, which would be the premise for the 45,000-ton Iowa-class battleships.
The issues that would haunt the OTL North Carolina-class battleships.
So, concerning Hiei: Is it a Dauntless that nails her or are her and her crew among the first to be introduced to horrors a century beyond their comprehension?
I've been playing Rule the Waves 3 recently and I wish so much there was this level of detail and back and forth in the naval treaties. I feel it'd add so much more flavor to the geopolitical situation in any given play-through.