Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (16 page)

In the meantime the
Trenton
, in obedience to instructions by radio, had rejoined the destroyer flotillas, without any suspicion that another Japanese submarine was in hiding near her rendezvous at Sholl Bay. The rest of the day was occupied in re-forming the fleet and making arrangements for the safety and repair of the
Utah
. Next morning the voyage was resumed, the fleet steaming in practically the same order as before, with the
Trenton
in the van division. Admiral Templeton had determined, in spite of the
Trenton’s
unfavourable report on the weather in the Pacific, to proceed
via
Cockburn Channel, his decision being strengthened by the knowledge that the shorter route through the Straits afforded many more opportunities for submarine attack. The fleet had passed Cape Froward, and was bearing up to enter the Cockburn Channel, when two torpedoes exploded in rapid succession, the first striking the transport
Mount
Evans
in the starboard column of the Second Squadron, the second the oiler
Trinity
, in the port column. There is no doubt both were intended for the battleships of the centre column, as the track of the second torpedo was seen from the battleship
Arkansas
, and barely avoided by prompt use of the helm.

In accordance with orders already circulated in readiness for such an emergency, all ships began zigzagging, at the same time increasing speed to their utmost capacity, while the destroyers, interposing themselves between the major vessels and the quarter from which the torpedoes had appeared to come, commenced to search for the source of this fresh attack, assisted by aircraft as before.

One of the first to proceed to the assistance of the two stricken vessels was the
Trenton
, which had been rear ship in the First Squadron. As she slowed up on approaching the
Trinity
, her long broadside of 550 feet was probably the best target within reach of
I
53
, for the great cruiser was immediately struck by two torpedoes amidships, and had to run for Sholl Bay. But her stokehold fires were extinguished by the rising water before she could be beached, and the nearest destroyers had a busy time rescuing her crew as she settled down. The sinking of this cruiser was the crowning achievement of the Japanese submarines, which were unable to attempt any further
coup
. For some hours the surrounding area was searched by aircraft and destroyers, but it was still very misty, and no trace could be found of the submarine, which was probably lying quietly on the bed of the Straits, as microphones gave no clue to her movements.

Meanwhile the
Mount
Evans
had foundered; but the
Trinity
, taken in tow by a couple of mine-sweepers, eventually struggled into Punta Arenas, badly down by the head. This Chilean port reaped quite a harvest in the way of repair work and other business as a result of the American fleets misadventures.

Determined to stamp out the submarine menace in the straits, Admiral Templeton ordered four divisions of destroyers, with the
Birmingham
, to remain in those waters and continue the hunt, while the remainder of the fleet proceeded up the Chilean coast, keeping well away from the land until they reached Valparaiso. The strongest representations were made by the U.S. Minister at Santiago as to the misuse of Chilean territorial waters by the Japanese. The local authorities, with whom this had been a tender subject ever since the Germans had taken similar liberties in 1914-15, willingly responded by sending a number of warships south with orders to deal stringently with any Japanese submarine or other belligerent vessel found committing a breach of neutrality. The first result of this policy was that the Japanese Vice-Consul at Punta Arenas was restricted from using his motor launch except for harbour purposes, and this measure, no doubt, contributed to the ultimate rounding up of
I
53
. Ten days later she was surprised in a remote inlet of the Straits, near the southern end of Santa Inez Island, by a couple of Chilean destroyers, and forced to surrender under threat of being fired upon. She was in no condition to submerge, as she had been aground a short time previously, and had badly strained her hull and damaged her hydroplanes. Under escort of the Chilean destroyers, and with an armed guard on board, she was taken to Talcahuano, and there interned. This inglorious end to her operations so preyed upon the mind of her commanding officer, Lieut-Commander Yamioka, that he committed hara-kiri some days afterwards, in spite of the fact that he had been notified through the Japanese Minister that his conduct in sinking two American ships and crippling a third was regarded with approbation by his superiors.

A good deal could be written about the operations of the American flotilla detailed to search the Straits. Before
I
53
was found they had explored the labyrinth of channels which the sea has made in the South American mainland and through the innumerable islands adjacent to it between the fiftieth parallel and Cape Horn. Each division of six destroyers was assigned a definite area, which they covered in as short a time as possible, according to the number of possible hiding places which it contained. Those inlets where the water was comparatively shallow were left untouched, since it was obvious that no submarine could find safety in them.

The remainder of the fleet's voyage to Panama and San Diego was comparatively uneventful, the main portion reaching the latter port on September 9. After their long voyage several ships required to be overhauled and to have sundry defects made good, and to relieve the strain upon the resources of San Diego some units were ordered to Mare Island and Bremerton for repair. Altogether it was nearly a month before everything had been dealt with, and even then the
Utah’s
repairs were still outstanding. As the Panama Canal was reopened at the end of September, the only positive gain from the voyage was the training in seamanship which it imparted to the raw crews of Admiral Templeton's fleet.

The effects of the Magellan Straits affair upon the two countries concerned differed somewhat. In Japan, the carefully edited accounts given by the newspapers intensified the enthusiasm evoked by the raids upon the American seaboard, and the suicide of Lieut.-Commander Yamioka excited this to fever heat. Together with Lieut.-Commander Kuroi, of
I
58, he was made the object of a display of hero-worship, which the Government were not slow to turn to account.

In the United States, on the other hand, the public regarded the incident with less complacency. Some were inclined to criticise the arrangements made by the Navy Department and by Admiral Templeton, while others refused to hear a word against the Admiral, contending that he had shown skill and ability in extricating his command from what might have been a serious disaster. On the whole, however, the result was to strengthen the hands of the Government in instituting a limited censorship over details published in the newspapers of naval movements. It was pointed out with justice that the frequent reports of the progress of the voyage which had appeared in print must have been of material assistance to the Japanese in making arrangements to intercept the fleet in the Magellan Straits.

From the purely objective standpoint it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the Japanese deserved better luck. They had taken every precaution to ensure that their ambush should be laid at the right moment and in the most favourable place without arousing any suspicion of their intention, and only the fortuitous circumstances that led to
I
58
being spotted from the air prevented the two submarines from delivering their attack together, without any previous warning. Lieut.-Commander Yamioka of
I
53
certainly handled his boat with the greatest skill. His ultimate internment was not surprising, and was probably foreseen by the Japanese Naval Staff, from the remarks on the subject appearing in their official history. As regards the actual setting of the ambush, it may be suggested that more than two submarines might have been employed; but in view of all the conditions it is reasonable to conclude that two was the ideal number. Any force in excess of that would have increased out of all proportion the risks of premature detection, quite apart from the question of the number of suitable craft which the Japanese had at their disposal.

So far as the American arrangements were concerned, the Navy Department cannot be absolved from blame, in that they should at least have considered the possibility of the enemy attempting something of the kind, and either framed plans for dealing with it, or allowed Admiral Templeton more discretion in laying down the route to be followed. By his instructions he was bound to call at Punta Arenas, and it is to his credit that he gave what proved an all-important order to the
Trenton
to proceed round the Horn and rendezvous at Sholl Bay, and so saved his command from what probably would have been a serious reverse.

CHAPTER XI

United States Government determines to assume the offensive — Admiral Morrison advocates expedition to the Bonins — Reconnaissance carried out by submarines — Topography of the Bonin group — Composition of force to be employed — Admiral Dallinger’s misgivings

THE course of the war, so far, had been singularly indecisive, and it is doubtful whether the net results could be viewed with any greater satisfaction in Tokyo than in Washington. Japan, it is true, had swept the American flag from the Western Pacific, besides dealing some painful if superficial blows at the coast line of her enemy. But now it looked as though she had shot her bolt. The possibilities of direct attack, limited from the first, were apparently exhausted. Before attempting any serious military action, she would have to destroy or immobilise the American fleet, which was still intact, and certain to grow stronger as time went on. In pre-war days imaginative Japanese writers had drawn lurid pen-pictures of the invasion of Hawaii by the all-conquering legions of Nippon; some, indeed, had gone so far as to predict the landing of whole army corps in California itself. Nor was it only in Japan that such fantastic notions found expression. Many years previously one Homer Lea, an American military critic, had written a book to prove how easily Washington, Oregon and California could be invaded and overrun by armies from Japan. But although a few papers in the West endeavoured to revive the invasion bogey, the more sober organs of the Press poured ridicule on these fears. How, they asked, was Japan to transport troops across 4,500 miles of water in the teeth of a superior American fleet? No nation, and least of all Japan, whose rulers were deeply versed in the science of war, would dream of sending its armies to certain destruction. Equal risk would attend an expedition to Hawaii, where, as everyone knew, the bulk of the American Navy was stationed, in readiness for instant action. “As well talk of an American invasion of Japan,” scoffed the San Francisco
Argonaut
, “as of the Japanese invading our shores.”

Yet, had the
Argonaut
but known it, projects not far removed from an invasion of Japan were even then under discussion in Washington. Disillusioned by now as to the prospects of an early peace, the executive authorities were beginning to cast about for means of ending the strategic deadlock which had developed. They were in the mood to consider any scheme that promised to give a decisive turn to the conflict, the blighting influence of which had begun to make itself felt throughout the country. Business of every description was suffering, the financial barometer was unsteady, and the stock markets exhibited symptoms of panic at every fresh rumour. Pacifists of the militant breed were openly preaching their seditious doctrines, which appealed to the less orderly elements of the public. Unrest was in the air and although it was too soon to speak of positive danger to the social system, there were not wanting alarmists who painted the future in gloomy colours. In view of the immense sums already appropriated for Army and Navy expansion, the theory that defensive warfare could be waged at small cost had ceased to be convincing. Would it not eventually prove cheaper in every sense, asked members of the Cabinet, to abandon the passive strategy which had thus far been pursued, and prepare to take the offensive on a grand scale? With the full weight of the national resources behind it, a stunning blow might be aimed at the enemy, breaking that will to win which had been nourished by more or less facile triumphs, and forcing him to his knees. Admitting the hazards of such an operation, were they more to be dreaded than the ultimate effects of a war that might drag on interminably with no promise of final success? Hitherto no clear-cut purpose had inspired the efforts that were being made to reinforce the fighting services. In the absence of a definite objective, neither Army nor Navy chiefs knew precisely what to ask for, and from this uncertainty, waste of money and overlapping of effort inevitably resulted.

What the situation demanded was a clearly defined plan of campaign which would ensure the closest and most fruitful co-operation between all arms. Once such a plan was evolved, it would be a simple matter to provide the material required for its execution. As things stood at present, the Army was competing against the Navy for war munitions of every description, which both Departments were ordering in prodigious quantities, though apparently without any clear idea of how they were to be used. The War Department, for example, had placed a contract for fifty railroad mounts for guns of the heaviest calibre, intended to reinforce the mobile railroad batteries of the Coast Artillery Corps. Guns of this type would be effective enough against hostile battleships, but for any other purpose they were needlessly powerful, and there was scarcely one chance in a thousand that they would ever fire a shot at the Japanese battle fleet.

Early in June a conference was held at the White House to bring the whole military situation under review. At this meeting, which was attended by all the principal members of the Cabinet and high officials of the Army and Navy, Admiral Morrison, the Chief of Naval Operations, submitted a plan of which the details had been worked out by the staff of his Bureau. Nothing less was proposed than a descent on the Bonins, a group of Japanese islands lying some five hundred miles to the south-east of Yokohama, and their seizure as a base for the American fleet. This project had not been developed on the spur of the moment. It was one among several Pacific war plans which the Bureau of Operations had studied in collaboration with the War College and the General Board of the Navy, long before hostilities were in sight. This particular scheme, however, had failed to win the approval of more than a few senior officers of the Navy. The majority regarded it as unsound and dangerous. Experienced military officers were equally dubious. But no argument availed to shake Admiral Morrison’s faith in the merits of the plan. For every criticism he was ready with a plausible answer, and though he did not convince the professional strategists, who roundly condemned the project as foolhardy and impracticable, his eloquence finally won over the Cabinet. Still, the first condition of success in every great enterprise — unanimity of purpose and mutual confidence among the leaders — was wanting. Once the decision was taken, however, all concerned in the plan worked loyally to carry it through to a fortunate issue.

As so many conflicting versions have since appeared in print, it may be as well to give a brief summary of what was intended. Starting from the assumption that a base within reasonable distance of the hostile coast must be obtained before a systematic offensive could begin, Admiral Morrison had arrived by a process of elimination at two possible objectives, either of which would serve the end in view. One was Guam; the other, Port Lloyd, in the Bonin Islands. For some reasons Guam was to be preferred. While on the one hand its remoteness from Japan would render a close blockade of the enemy’s coast impossible, on the other, possession of this island would enable the American fleet to deploy at full strength in those waters where Japan had hitherto enjoyed an absolute supremacy. Nothing would be so likely to force her into accepting a decisive fleet action as the prospect of seeing American naval power firmly entrenched once more in the Western Pacific. From Guam, also, American cruisers would be in a position to cut across the steamer routes from Europe, holding up those supplies of war material without which Japan could not long sustain the struggle. Even her communications with the Chinese mainland would be exposed to attack by long-range submarines penetrating into the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan. Finally, the island would be invaluable as a stepping-stone to the conquest of the Philippines, should the march of events justify such a move. But the difficulties in the way of recovering Guam by direct assault were held by Admiral Morrison to be insurmountable, a belief in which most naval officers heartily concurred. In the first place, as it was precisely the quarter in which the enemy might expect to be attacked, he would undoubtedly have taken precautions against surprise. A sufficient period had now elapsed since the fall of Guam to permit of its defences being strengthened, and the intelligence service reported Japanese submarines and air scouts to be particularly active in the neighbourhood of the Mariana Islands. Probably, therefore, the approach of an expeditionary force would be detected in ample time for a warm reception to be prepared for it. For these reasons, and others that need not be gone into, the idea of making an attempt against Guam was given up.

It was then that Admiral Morrison recommended the Bonins as a more promising objective. As he himself admitted, the plan was an exceptionally bold one, but its very audacity held out the best promise of success. Japan, he argued, would never anticipate so daring an operation as the seizure of islands that lay within a day’s steaming of her great naval arsenals. Fortifications were known to exist at Port Lloyd, but they were not believed to be powerful. In any case, surprise was the keynote of the scheme. Though the battle fleet would have to cover the voyage of the expedition at long range, it was not expected to pit itself against the defences of the island. Resistance was to be overcome by an intensive gas attack carried out by airplanes. These were to sweep in from seaward and drench the position with a flood of the gas recently produced at the Edgewood factory and known as “847,” which rendered its victims unconscious in a few seconds, and against which every known type of mask had proved impotent. Following the delivery of this attack the transports, carrying some 20,000 picked men, with artillery and stores, were to enter the harbour at Port Lloyd, the ships being equipped with special gear for rapid unloading. The invaders would have with them fifty guns of 7-inch and 155 mm. calibre, high-velocity weapons ranging up to 18,000 yards. Furthermore, it was probable that the suddenness of the gas offensive would overwhelm the Japanese garrison before they had time to dismantle their guns, in which case the coastal batteries might be captured intact. The arrival of the Japanese main fleet from its base at Yokosuka, only five hundred miles away, was not only expected but hoped for. On reaching the Bonins it would find the principal island already in American occupation and bristling with long-range guns. These it would have to silence before attempting to eject the intruders, and experience at the taking of Guam had taught the Japanese to be wary of exposing even their heaviest ships to the fire of well-concealed artillery ashore.

In the meantime the American fleet, operating from its advanced base at Midway, with Wake Island as an intermediate port of call for the small craft and submarines, would be held in readiness to approach the Bonins and fall upon the Japanese fleet at a moment when the latter had expended much of its ammunition against the forts and perhaps had several ships damaged by their fire. An action fought under such conditions might easily result in a smashing victory, and so end the war at a blow. In any case, the loss of the Bonins and their conversion into a strong base from which the United States could develop a powerful offensive against Japan’s home coast must sooner or later compel her to fight a fleet action, and this, after all, was one of the chief objects to be striven for.

Such, in broad outline, was Admiral Morrison’s plan, the fate of which we are about to relate. Obviously, the first step was to determine the whereabouts of the Japanese main fleet, which had been heard of at the Bonins during April, though it was not believed to have remained there longer than a few days. The seemingly impossible task of reconnoitring the islands was performed by a submarine division consisting of six boats of the “S” class, reinforced for the occasion by
V
1
. Temporary headquarters were established at Wake Island, situated about 1,500 miles to the eastward of Port Lloyd. It is merely a coral atoll, enclosing a shallow lagoon, to which loaded boats and motor launches could gain access by a channel blasted through the coral reefs. Beyond affording a lee under which vessels might lie-to and refuel, the island — or rather group of islands, for there are three of them — is destitute of anchorage facilities. An American naval officer who visited the place some years before the war wrote that “the total land area is about 2,600 acres, much of which lies at 10 to 15 feet above sea level. The group is about 4½ miles long by 1½ miles wide, with its major axis lying north-west and south-east, and as the prevailing winds range from east to north-east, a lee is usually found.”

On October 23 the
V
1
(Commander Groves), accompanied by two “S” boats, sailed from Wake on a reconnoitring cruise to the Bonins. All three vessels were carrying their maximum load of fuel. On the evening of October 28 the
V
1
, having left her consorts three hundred miles to the eastward, sighted Peel Island (Chichi Shima), the main island of the group, which she proceeded to reconnoitre. The utmost caution had to be exercised, not only on account of the submarine’s own safety, but to avoid giving alarm to the Japanese, for the success of the whole enterprise depended on their remaining in complete ignorance of the objective. Had they known that the Bonins were being watched, their suspicions would have been aroused.

The
V
1
remained off the islands for three days, without seeing anything to indicate the presence of a large fleet. During the hours of daylight the submarine spent most of her time on the bed of the sea, her favourite refuge being Walker Bay, some miles to the north of Port Lloyd. The water here was less than one hundred feet deep, and the bottom, though somewhat hard and uneven, afforded a fairly good resting place. At intervals throughout the day Commander Groves brought his boat up to periscope level — though without breaking surface — and took a survey of the position. Occasionally a vessel was heard passing overhead, and once at least the unmistakable throb of a destroyer’s screws was audible close at hand. Shortly before dusk the submarine would leave her lair in the green depths and head out to sea, coming to the surface when some fifteen miles from land to re-charge the electric batteries and enable the officers and men to get some much-needed fresh air and exercise on deck. There was always a danger that the noise of the charging engine might be heard by a Japanese patrol, but this risk had to be accepted. When the batteries were charged, Commander Groves would again close the land, this time proceeding on the surface, though ready at the first hint of danger to make a sudden dive.