Read Islands of Destiny: The Solomons Campaign and the Eclipse of the Rising Sun Online
Authors: John Prados
Tags: #eBook, #WWII, #PTO, #USMC, #USN, #Solomon Islands, #Guadalcanal, #Naval, #Rabaul
Far to the west, Rear Admiral Kakuta ordered out his initial strike wave at 9:05. It consisted of seventeen Val dive-bombers and twelve Zero fighters under Lieutenant Shiga Yoshio.
Japanese and American strike waves passed within sight of one another as they sped toward their targets. Both sides warned their carriers of incoming aircraft. The
Zuiho
’s Zeroes peeled off to destroy two
Enterprise
TBF Avengers and shot up a couple more torpedo bombers so badly that they had to abort.
Enterprise
Wildcats claimed two enemy and the TBFs three more, but the strike lost its fighter escort. The
Hornet
wave droned on, scattered but unblooded.
Captain Charles P. Mason’s
Hornet
had just finished returning seven Wildcats to combat air patrol when, within minutes, Commander Murata’s planes swept in. It was 8:55. The
Enterprise
was luckily concealed beneath a squall. Murata went for the enemy he could see. Kinkaid’s fleet had the protection of an extremely strong combat air patrol of thirty-seven F-4F Wildcats from both carriers. They engaged as quickly as they could. Unfortunately radar operators were confused. The blip of the incoming Japanese aircraft merged on their screens with that of the outgoing U.S. strike. Radarmen remained uncertain until the enemy were only forty-five miles out—fifteen minutes at a typical cruise speed, less at battle speeds. Air controllers on the “Big
E
,” which had the duty, positioned interceptors low to conserve fuel. The Japanese closed from above, and very fast.
Flak was tremendous. A cruiser on every quarter ringed the
Hornet
, and beyond them lay a second ring of six destroyers. One light cruiser was the new antiaircraft ship
Juneau.
But Commander Murata, the Imperial Navy’s torpedo ace, calm and calculating, kept his pilots’ shoulders to the wheel. Captain Mason threw
Hornet
into a series of frantic gyrations at twenty-eight knots, putting his rudder hard over, port then starboard, hoping to throw off the enemy. The first two attackers got only near misses and were both flamed. Japanese planes kept coming. Murata’s force was nearly annihilated, losing seventeen of twenty-one Vals, sixteen of twenty Kates, and five of twelve Zeroes. But in just three minutes beginning at 9:12, the
Hornet
suffered several crippling bomb hits, damage from a pair of planes that crashed aboard, and two torpedo impacts to starboard. By 9:25 Mason’s ship was dead in the water, her forward engine room flooding, and fires raged on the signal bridge, the flight deck, the hangar deck, the mess, and the petty officers’ quarters. Moreover, the water mains were disabled. More than a thousand
Hornet
sailors formed bucket brigades, combating the flames with water, literally pail by pail.
Kinkaid’s strike formations were still winging toward the enemy. They struck within minutes of
Hornet
’s fight for life.
Hornet
’s airmen had been split up when the Japanese intervened against the strike planes. Her torpedo unit never found the enemy. Lieutenant Commander William J. (“Gus”) Widhelm’s dive-bombers came up behind the Nagumo force, which was speeding north.
Shokaku
’s radar actually detected them almost a hundred miles away, enabling fourteen of twenty-six patrolling fighters to intercept. But only two Dauntlesses were knocked out. Gus Widhelm also did not make it, forced to ditch when his engine gave out during the approach.
Communications experts of the Japanese mobile radio units, having identified the U.S. frequencies, came on the air to mimic American pilots, inserting false information. This was a tactic the U.S. radio units eschewed, probably because Japanese naval slang was even more difficult than the language itself—and few enough Americans were fluent in that. Santa Cruz may have been the first time the Japanese practiced this form of deception. Some American pilots were angry at colleagues for providing bogus information, until they worked out that none of them had talked the talk. Nevertheless the enemy’s radio deception had only marginal impact.
Eleven
Hornet
SBDs reached the carriers, and the key punches were
thrown by Lieutenant James E. Vose Jr.’s flight. Five planes pushed over above
Shokaku
about 9:27 a.m. Captain Arima Masafumi evaded some bombs, but three struck her flight deck from midships aft, smashing guns and damaging the hangar deck. In the flattop’s wake was Hara Tameichi’s
Amatsukaze
, which had stopped briefly to rescue two ditched airmen. Hara, who had been with
Ryujo
when she was crippled at Eastern Solomons, was horrified. He felt the
Ryujo
had been a second-string warship, but
Shokaku
was strictly first-team, with expert crew and a crack air group. How she could succumb so easily mystified him.
Twenty minutes later Admiral Nagumo sent a dispatch bearing the grim news but also some hope.
Kido Butai
was headed northwest, with
Zuiho
on fire and both she and
Shokaku
unable to handle aircraft. On the other hand, the task force leader added, an American carrier was also on fire. Not long afterward, with
Shokaku
’s communications failing, destroyer
Arashi
, then carrier
Zuikaku
took over as focal points for task force message traffic.
Meanwhile the
Enterprise
attack force also sought big game. Reduced to five Avengers and three Dauntlesses, plus escort, by the midcourse firefight, Commander Richard K. Gaines winged past Admiral Hara’s small
Tone
group, then eyed the Vanguard Force in the distance. Hoping it contained carriers, Gaines continued, found it did not, and flew beyond that. Short of fuel, Gaines turned back to hit the Vanguard. Abe’s ships had formidable defenses, in all seventy-six heavy flak guns, ninety light weapons, and the main batteries of the big ships. Destroyer
Isokaze
, then battleship
Kirishima
, were the first to sight the enemy. Abe had gone to flank speed, making thirty-three knots.
Avenger torpedo bombers assaulted heavy cruiser
Suzuya
, identifying her as a
Kirishima-
class battleship. Captain Kimura Masatomi ordered his main battery into action. Big guns split the sky with two dozen eight-inch rounds. Kimura began to weave his ship. All his AA guns spoke, firing ninety-seven five-inch shells and 921 25mm bullets during the fight, over in just seven minutes. The
Suzuya
ceased fire at 9:38. The American torpedoes missed, though Ensign Evan K. Williams would be awarded the Navy Cross for his bravery in the attack.
A second
Hornet
strike group followed a few minutes behind the
Enterprise
planes. This comprised nine SBD Dauntlesses and ten TBF Avengers under Commander Walter F. Rodee. The torpedo bombers attacked cruiser
Tone
,
wearing Admiral Hara’s flag. Captain Kobe fought hard, claiming two Avengers. The Japanese saw only half the TBFs launch their torpedoes, and all were avoided. Two sailors were slightly wounded. Against this attack the
Tone
expended 112 eight-inch and 220 five-inch shells, plus 4,075 25mm rounds.
In the most sustained American air attack of the day, between 9:26 and 9:51 Dauntlesses plastered Captain Komura Keizo’s
Chikuma
in two matches. Lookouts began spotting U.S. planes shortly after 9:00 a.m. Komura engaged with his main battery. First in were nine
Hornet
SBDs led by lieutenants John Lynch and Edgar Stebbins. Americans hit with a 1,000-pound bomb on the port wing of the bridge, wrecking the main battery director at 9:26. The ship immediately began to list. Standing next to the compass, Captain Komura fell backward at the sudden incline. A young ensign, Ogawa, stood behind him. As Komura fell, Ensign Ogawa was hit by a shell splinter. Had he not been there the captain would have been killed. Komura was wounded nonetheless. Ogawa died from his wounds late that night. The executive officer was killed too. Komura ordered torpedoes jettisoned just before another bomb struck
Chikuma
’s starboard torpedo room. Next came several
Enterprise
SBDs under Lieutenant (Junior Grade) George Estes. They made near misses, one of which destroyed a Jake floatplane on its catapult. Frantically defending themselves,
Chikuma
sailors counted twenty-one attack planes, while observers elsewhere in the Vanguard recorded as many as forty or fifty. Some 190 sailors were killed and 154 wounded.
Chikuma
expended seventy-seven eight-inch and 353 five-inch shells. Her light flak spit out 1,805 25mm rounds.
From the
Tone
, Admiral Hara could see considerable damage to
Chikuma
’s foremast and afterdeck. The ship reported boiler room trouble, and the damage itself hindered communications. At 10:25 Hara sent a flag signal reporting what he knew about the
Chikuma
to Abe, recommending she withdraw to Truk under escort. Twenty-five minutes later the Vanguard commander approved
Chikuma
’s departure and instructed destroyers
Tanikaze
and
Urakaze
to accompany her. She left at twenty-three knots, now her best speed, at 11:08 a.m.
For the Japanese this was the time of decision. Over the next hours a series of choices set a new phase of the Battle of Santa Cruz. At 11:00 a.m., Admiral Kondo returned Kakuta’s carrier
Junyo
to
Kido Butai
’s tactical control.
Both Kakuta and Kondo were proceeding generally northeast now, toward the carrier task force. By 10:55 the Japanese knew of two U.S. carriers, in separate groups, and that one was crippled. They had yet to confuse themselves with a “third” flattop—actually the stricken
Hornet.
Shokaku
and
Zuiho
were leaving the battle zone. Admiral Nagumo was out of the picture. The
Zuikaku
remained undamaged and at 11:15 took over as communications ship for
Kido Butai.
The Japanese fleet retained two effective aircraft carriers against one American, and
Junyo
was prepared to launch a second attack unit. Abe’s Vanguard steamed east at twenty-six knots in a surface foray. The outcome now hung on the most minute factors: on split-second timing and sudden opportunity.
On the flag bridge of the
Enterprise
, Tom Kinkaid faced important decisions of his own. The “Big
E
’s” task group, a dozen miles from
Hornet
’s, could only watch. When the other flattop got hit, Admiral Kinkaid lost direct communication. He could see the towering plume of smoke—obvious and ominous—but knew not what it meant. At 9:41 he called the
Hornet
group’s escort boss, Rear Admiral Howard H. Good, to ask whether
Enterprise
needed to land the other carrier’s aircraft. That was when Kinkaid learned that Task Force 61 was in dire straits. The immediate question became whether to continue to close with the enemy. Every minute counted, and half his offensive firepower was dead in the water, burning. At this point Kinkaid thought that the Japanese were down one
Shokaku
-class carrier (the mistakenly identified
Zuiho
), but U.S. strike aircraft had yet to inform him of their other results. Intelligence had repeatedly referred to two big Jap carriers, and morning searches had found two, plus a light carrier. The Japanese
Junyo
had not been seen by any Allied search nor identified in intelligence. On the other hand, the Imperial Navy had powerful surface forces, which the admiral understood were headed north but that could bear down on him at any moment.
Kinkaid chose to play a waiting game. He swung the
Enterprise
group to a southeast course at twenty-seven knots. He then altered to the southwest so as not to open the range too much for returning aircraft—and from the distressed
Hornet.
For a time he would be nearby, and she might recover. The picture would also clarify once he learned more of the strike results. At 9:49 he informed SOPAC of the damaged
Hornet.
Bull Halsey’s reply was immediate: “OPERATE FROM AND IN POSITIONS FROM WHICH YOU CAN STRIKE QUICKLY AND EFFECTIVELY. WE MUST USE EVERYTHING WE HAVE TO THE LIMIT.”
That was the intention. Captain Osborne B. Hardison, the “Big
E
’s” skipper, advised sending an unescorted strike, launched whenever possible with everything available—at that time just ten Dauntlesses. But the
Enterprise
faced huge challenges. There were not just
Hornet
’s planes to land, and returning aircraft to recover; there were also the combat air patrol fighters to be landed, refueled, and returned to the air. Even before radioing Halsey, Kinkaid had twice been warned of new attackers approaching. The carrier’s mobile radio unit under Marine Major Bankston T. Holcomb told him of Japanese radio chatter. The enemy duly appeared on radar at 9:53 about forty-five miles away. Based on more of Holcomb’s information, Admiral Kinkaid ordered a west-southwest course. Throughout the day radio intelligence continued intercepting messages, some heard as far away as FRUMEL, others at FRUPAC. These were the JNAF contact reports.