Operation Storm: Japan's Top Secret Submarines and Its Plan to Change the Course of World War II (44 page)

Carlo Carlucci noticed his captain had a mouth on him right away. This was really saying something, since Carlucci was no shrinking violet when it came to colorful language. “Everything was ‘fuckin’ this’ and ‘fuckin’ that,’ ” he recalled about his skipper.
²

It didn’t bother Carlucci. He was new to the boat and had no expectations of how his captain should behave. But a foul-mouthed sub captain suggested a degree of volatility uncommon in a line commander. It wasn’t a good sign.

Carlucci was a tough guy himself. A “dese, dem, and dose” type, he could have been mistaken for a boxer or a longshoreman. Born and raised in New York City, he’d worked construction before the war and was 175 pounds of solid muscle. He was also “scared of nuthin’.”
³

When Johnson finally steamed out of Midway, the
Segundo
was in “a high state of material condition.”
⁴
It was August 10, 1945,
⁵
the day after the second atomic bomb was dropped. The crew knew that two Japanese cities had been destroyed by a powerful new weapon.
⁶
What they didn’t know was that Fat Man and Little Boy were the reason Lockwood’s subs had been withdrawn from the waters around Kyushu. Though the bombing’s implications were unclear, the crew realized that the war was in its final stages. Nevertheless, they still believed Japan would have to be invaded before she surrendered. Indeed, Operation Olympic, the invasion of Kyushu, was set for November, less than three months away. Based on the invasions of Iwo Jima and Okinawa, it promised to be a long, bloody fight.

In the meantime, the
Segundo
headed for the Sea of Okhotsk, steering “various courses at various speeds.”
⁷
Russia had declared war on Japan on August 8, and though she was an American ally, the United States feared she might invade Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island. Russia already had a foothold in the northern Kurils, and so the
Segundo
was sent to keep an eye on the Soviets.

IJN warships and enemy freighters were strangely absent as the
Segundo
neared Japan. A few fishing trawlers were spotted—none worth stopping.
⁸
The enemy might have been missing from the battlefield, but Johnson knew not to underestimate the Japanese. He’d experienced firsthand how brave they could be. One time, while serving aboard a different vessel, Johnson had encountered a few Japanese soldiers floating on a raft in the middle of the Pacific. When he offered to take them on board, the bedraggled group surprised him by refusing. Despite being far from land, they preferred to die rather than surrender. After giving them food and water, Johnson obeyed their wishes and left them floating in the middle of nowhere.
⁹
That small example of Japanese courage was enough to convince him they were a formidable foe. What American would wave off rescue in the face of certain death? You could only hope you’d never be tested.

W
HILE THE
S
EGUNDO
was making her way up the coast of Japan, Kusaka surfaced the
I-400
. It was the evening of August 14, and the
I-401
was still missing.
¹⁰
Time was running out as the attack date drew near, and Kusaka debated whether to wait or proceed on his own. It didn’t help that the
I-400
’s radar was irreparably broken.
¹¹
The longer he hung around, the more chances he was taking.

Kusaka was confident he had the right location (they’d been relying on astral navigation to steer their course), but Takahashi had his doubts. He knew how difficult it was to navigate by the stars. As a pilot, he had experience making the same complicated calculations. The subs had practiced astral navigation at Nanao, and not once had their calculations been correct. Takahashi suspected they hadn’t found the
I-401
because somebody had made another miscalculation.
¹²
In other words, they were lost.

They weren’t lost though. They were south of Ulithi,
¹³
right where they should be. The longer Kusaka waited, the more likely it seemed that the
I-401
had been sunk. The
I-14
had nearly been lost while traveling to Truk, and the
I-13
had disappeared 550 miles east of Yokosuka. Sunk by planes from the USS
Anzio
(CVE-57), as
well as by the USS
Lawrence C. Taylor
(DE-415),
¹⁴
the
I-13
’s demise marked the Sixth Fleet’s single largest loss of life during the war,
¹⁵
and another casualty to ULTRA intelligence. If the
I-401
was also missing, then it meant Kusaka’s sub was the last one left that could launch an attack. It was prudent for him to strike now rather than wait and risk being sunk.

Takahashi thought along similar lines. If they didn’t rendezvous with the
I-401
by the appointed time, they should attack on their own. Another reason to attack was the disturbing transmissions coming out of Sydney. A Japanese-language newscast aired by the Allies claimed that a special bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima, instantly reducing the city to ruins. Takahashi was amazed to hear the bomb was no bigger than a matchbox. It sounded so fantastic, he wasn’t sure whether to believe it. Other broadcasts mentioned that Russia had declared war on Japan. That meant four countries (the United States, Britain, China, and Russia) were demanding Japan’s immediate and unconditional surrender. Japan couldn’t fight the entire world. Eventually, she’d succumb.
¹⁶

Many of the sub’s officers doubted what they heard. One of Kusaka’s men even reported hearing that Japan had won the war. The crew roared their approval and discussed what they would do once they arrived in America.
¹⁷
But the more Takahashi listened, the more the newscasts rang true. One announcer claimed Japan would surrender if allowed to keep the emperor.
¹⁸
It didn’t seem the kind of propaganda an enemy would spread.

Gathering the
I-400
’s pilots, Takahashi shared what he’d heard on the radio. Since no surrender had been declared, they agreed not to act rashly. If Japan did surrender, however, Takahashi wanted them to know they bore no responsibility for defeat. Whatever happened, they should remain calm. Still, the rumors were unnerving.
¹⁹

The next day Takahashi heard an Allied broadcast discussing repatriation. It claimed that “Japanese soldiers will be … allowed to return to their families to lead peaceful, productive lives.” But it also stated that the “crews of Japanese submarines will be punished as war criminals for the crime of massacring prisoners.”
²⁰

Takahashi must have found the news unnerving, given his participation in the
I-37
massacres. If captured, it meant he’d be tried as a war criminal, another good reason to proceed with the attack.

Rumors of an impending surrender spread quickly throughout the
I-400
. While Kusaka remained shut in his cabin, the sub entered a kind of purgatory.
²¹
As time passed, the gossip increased, threatening to undermine discipline.

When dawn arrived on the morning of August 15, the
I-400
submerged once again. It had been nearly two days since her arrival, with still no word from the flagship. Kusaka debated what to do. Should he wait one more day, or should he complete the mission on his own? After thinking matters over, he decided to wait a little longer.

At dawn, Kusaka extended the
I-400
’s radio antenna above the waves to test reception. Maybe Sixth Fleet headquarters would send a message explaining the commander’s whereabouts. Though radio reception was fine, there was no word from Sixth Fleet. Then, at noon Tokyo time, the
I-400
received a report from Japan.

The broadcast was so shrouded in static, it seemed someone was trying to jam the signal. This was inconceivable, because the broadcast was made by the emperor. No one on board the
I-400
had ever heard the emperor speak before. Indeed, no one in Japan, save the emperor’s closest advisers, had ever been addressed by the God incarnate and certainly never by radio.

As Takahashi listened to the emperor, he found himself struggling to make sense of his words. The emperor’s voice was tinny and high-pitched and his language was so vague and opaque, it was difficult to make sense of it. But when Takahashi heard the phrase “endure the unendurable,” he knew what it meant. The emperor was telling them to lay down arms.
²²

W
HEN
P
RESIDENT
H
ARRY
S. Truman announced that Japan had surrendered, Americans poured into the street to celebrate. When Emperor Hirohito announced his desire for peace, most Japanese
were confused, particularly since he never used the word
surrender
. The announcement had been recorded the previous day on a phonograph record. But the emperor’s language was so formal and filled with vague allusions it made comprehension difficult. Even the most educated Japanese had trouble understanding what he had said.

There was confusion aboard the
I-400
as well. Many officers couldn’t believe Japan would surrender—the very concept of defeat was unimaginable—and their first reaction was to reject it. Kusaka, being a cooler character, was undecided. A transcript of the emperor’s speech was radioed to all IJN vessels that evening, and though it was easier to understand than the broadcast, it was still difficult.
²³
It was clear, however, that the emperor believed the only way to prevent the Japanese race from being annihilated was to surrender.
²⁴
Peace had been declared.

The Imperial Rescript said nothing about the
I-400
’s mission though,
²⁵
and without specific orders, Kusaka could not stand down. Though he was a loyal subject, Kusaka did not report to the emperor. He was under Sixth Fleet command. That meant until the Sixth Fleet, the Combined Fleet, or the Navy General Staff countermanded the
I-400
’s orders, Kusaka would undertake the mission. If the
I-401
didn’t arrive by August 17, he would launch the attack himself.

U
NKNOWN TO
K
USAKA
, or the Sixth Fleet for that matter, the
I-401
had not been sunk; she’d arrived at the rendezvous point as planned. Thirty minutes after sunset on the evening of August 14, Nambu surfaced, looking for Kusaka. The night was clear and the water smooth, the stars shone brightly in the sky. Conditions were perfect for two subs to meet,
²⁶
yet the
I-400
was nowhere to be seen.

Nambu wondered whether the
I-400
had succumbed to the same fate as the
I-13
. It was possible that a navigational error had caused the two subs to miss each other. Still, they couldn’t be sure. The
I-401
sent another “friendly” signal but received nothing in reply. Nambu was worried.
²⁷

The
I-400
was waiting of course, just not where she was supposed to be. When Ariizumi ordered a course change, the agreed-upon meeting place had also been changed. He instructed the new location be radioed to the
I-400
, but either she never received the message, or the
I-401
failed to send it. Whatever the explanation, the
I-400
was waiting in the waters off Ulithi, while the
I-401
was waiting nearly 1,000 miles due west. It was a catastrophic error, and one that remains unexplained to this day.
^*

What’s especially surprising is that Kusaka, if he never received the change order, should have been waiting in the waters off Ponape, yet that’s not where he was. For some reason he had proceeded to Ulithi, bypassing Ponape altogether. This meant he not only failed to rendezvous with the
I-401
at the new location, he went to Ulithi of his own accord. Gross failures in communication don’t happen in a modern navy, at least not often and not on this scale. Additionally, there’s no good reason why the two subs ended up in such different locations. Did Ariizumi assume that Nambu would send Kusaka the change in plans? It seems unlikely, given how detail oriented Ariizumi was. Did Nambu deliberately withhold the route change in order to sabotage the mission? That seems even more unlikely, given Nambu’s dedication to the navy.

Nambu doesn’t recall Ariizumi sending a message informing the
I-400
of the new rendezvous.
²⁸
If this is the case, why didn’t Nambu send it in his stead? Either way, Kusaka never went to the original rendezvous point. He seems to have taken a right turn north of Ponape and headed straight for Ulithi on his own. It was an astounding breakdown in communication, one that probably saved the two subs from destruction. Of such errors is fate made.

As the
I-401
waited, she picked up newscasts out of San Francisco
and Melbourne suggesting that surrender was imminent. From what Nambu could tell, the broadcasts were too outrageous to believe.
²⁹
He knew Japan was losing the war, but it never occurred to him she might actually surrender. He was truly shocked then by what the broadcasts claimed. The best explanation was that they were American propaganda devised to trick them.

Nambu wasn’t sure what Ariizumi thought. The commander was keeping his mouth shut. Even if Ariizumi knew something that he wasn’t telling, he agreed to keep the radio broadcasts from the crew. Neither man wanted the mission jeopardized by unsubstantiated rumors, especially when they came from the enemy.

Nambu ordered his radio officers to keep silent, but it’s impossible to keep news quiet in a submarine. There are always crewmen who know how to ferret out information. Once word got out that Japan might surrender, it was all the men could talk about.

When dawn approached on the morning of August 15, Nambu wondered where his sister sub could be. Like Kusaka, he couldn’t remain on the surface during daylight and had to decide whether to wait or attack Ulithi on his own. Finally, after discussion with Ariizumi, he submerged the boat and waited until evening. If the
I-400
didn’t show up by then, they’d consider attacking Ulithi on their own. Time was running out.