Authors: John Geoghegan
Tags: #Non-Fiction, #History
Things moved quickly after Ariizumi’s meeting with Katayama. Specifications for the sub’s hull, engines, and armament were hammered out. Meanwhile the Air Technical Bureau began working on the plane design. The NGS insisted the program be treated with the highest possible security consideration,
40
the same classification given to the Imperial Navy’s other superweapon, the battleship
Yamato
.
41
Nobody except a few NGS officers including Ariizumi knew anything about the project.
By March 1942, the preliminary design for Yamamoto’s monster subs was complete.
42
After further refinement, the Naval General Staff reviewed the proposal on April 27,
43
a technology subcommittee meeting was held the next day, and the design was accepted on May 17.
44
It was an exceptionally fast turnaround,
45
especially in the consensus-building culture of the NGS. Yamamoto’s sub was a top priority.
The IJN’s Fifth Replenishment Plan–Revised, or
Kai Maru–5
, was issued in June 1942, with orders to build 18 of Yamamoto’s gigantic subs. Officially referred to as the
I-400
class, the order shows the sub series numbered from
I-400
through
I-417
. Construction of the first five subs was to begin in January 1943. Not surprisingly, Katayama was assigned to supervise their construction since he’d been involved with their design from the beginning.
Admiral Yamamoto’s follow-up to Pearl Harbor, a plan intended to change the course of the Pacific war, was now under way.
*
Both Fujimori, Naval General Staff’s First Division chief, and Sato, Ariizumi’s staff officer, credit Yamamoto as coming up with the idea for an underwater aircraft carrier. Though this is not conclusive proof, it is certainly substantive evidence, given both men were well positioned to know firsthand. It is important to note, however, that both Lt. Cmdr. Tatsunoke Ariizumi and Yamamoto’s senior staff officer, Kamato Kurojima, have also been cited as potentially responsible for the idea. Clearly, both men played a crucial role in the development of the underwater aircraft carriers. Nevertheless, until definitive proof appears, it is the author’s belief that Yamamoto was responsible for the idea behind the
Sen-toku
squadron. Less conclusive, though still appealing, is the sense that the innovative yet unorthodox nature of the underwater aircraft carriers has Yamamoto’s personality stamped all over it.
†
Though at the time, the Japanese viewed the attack on Pearl Harbor as a success, certain miscalculations would later come back to haunt them. Chief among them was the fact that the attack united rather discouraged a U.S. population reluctant to go to war as well as its failure to destroy the sub pens, repair shops, and fuel storage tanks at Pearl Harbor. These oversights enabled the U.S. Pacific Fleet to bounce back faster than it might have, had essential resources such as oil and repair facilities been eliminated.
‡
Nambu says the
I-401
could do 7 knots underwater, while Western sources, such as Polmar and Carpenter,
Submarines of the Imperial Japanese Navy 1904–1945
, and Bagnasco,
Submarines of World War II
, cite 6.5 knots as the maximum underwater speed.
§
According to Nambu, the interior configuration of the
I-401
was slightly different given her flagship status. Differences included living quarters for her squadron commander and a strategy room (among others).
T
HE DESIGN FOR
Y
AMAMOTO
’
S UNDERWATER AIRCRAFT CARRIERS
was working its way through Tokyo’s naval bureaucracy when Lt. Nobukiyo Nambu arrived in the glassy waters off San Diego. It was the morning of February 21, 1942, and Nambu was excited to find himself off the continental United States once again.
The man the IJN High Command would eventually select to captain the
I-401
was still an executive officer. It would be another three years before he captained the
Sen-toku
flagship. For the time being, he was second in command of the
I-17
, a frontline combat sub commissioned 11 months previously. The
I-17
was the newest generation of
Junsen-
class sub, a Type B with a floatplane in her watertight deck hangar and a range of 14,000 nautical miles—longer than that of a U.S. sub.
1
The added range was important. It allowed the
I-17
to reach the west coast without refueling, an essential feature for attacking the American mainland. Nambu’s experience aboard a plane-carrying sub would prove useful when he took command of the
I-401
. In the meantime, he was still learning the ropes.
This was Nambu’s second war patrol aboard the
I-17
. His first had been at Pearl Harbor. Nambu’s sub had been stationed in the middle sentry arc north of Oahu when December 7 dawned. As the
I-17
’s executive officer, he was thrilled to find himself facing American territory for the first time. Though he was on the opposite side of the island from the air attack, he expected that many enemy ships would pass through his crosshairs as they fled the aerial bombardment. He was confident he’d sink at least one American battleship and maybe an aircraft carrier. But as the attack unfolded, not one ship had appeared.
The Imperial Japanese Navy deemed Pearl Harbor a success, even though the Sixth Fleet sub force contributed little to the effort. Not only had His Imperial Majesty’s submarines failed to sink an aircraft carrier, they didn’t sink a single capital ship. But Nambu didn’t have to wait long for a chance to redeem himself. Shortly after the attack was over, the
I-17
was sent to the American west coast with orders to prevent naval reinforcements from reaching Hawaii.
It was December 16, 1941, when Nambu saw the U.S. mainland for the first time. Moved by the beauty of Oregon’s snow-capped mountains, he couldn’t believe he was so close to the enemy. It was surprising, though, how unprepared the Americans seemed. One of Nambu’s colleagues in an I-boat off Long Beach saw “hundreds of people sunning themselves beneath colorful umbrellas.”
2
Another said car lights on shore were so bright, he could have read a book at night.
3
The consensus among I-boat crews was clear.
“They certainly don’t act like there’s a war going on.”
4
Nambu sunk his first ship, the SS
Samoa
, 15 miles off Cape Mendocino early on the morning of December 18. The
I-17
’s second victim came two days later, when she torpedoed the SS
Emidio
, a 6,912-ton oil tanker bound for San Francisco. Three days later Nambu claimed his third merchant ship,
5
the 7,038-ton SS
Larry Doheny
.
*
It’s difficult for sub crews to know whether they’ve actually sunk a ship, since they can’t usually linger to observe their handiwork. This means both sides often claimed more ships than were actually sunk.
†
Sixth Fleet subs attacked ten commercial ships off the U.S. west coast
during a six-day period in December 1941, of which at least four were sunk.
‡
Though not every merchant ship claimed was a total loss, Yamamoto was doing his best to take the battle to the American mainland. The actual damage may have been limited, but the sub attacks had a profound psychological impact, leading many to fear a Japanese invasion was imminent. It wasn’t the coup de grâce Yamamoto was looking for; the
I-400
subs would provide that. Nevertheless, the Sixth Fleet was on the offensive, and Nambu was off San Diego to keep up the pressure.
T
HE DAY THE
I-17
arrived off San Diego, the ocean was so calm, Nambu worried people on shore might hear his crew talking on the bridge.
6
The weather didn’t last, unfortunately. By afternoon, the wind had picked up, rain started falling, and the sea grew so rough, the sub had difficulty maintaining periscope depth.
7
Despite the poor conditions, Nambu was eager to sink something big.
8
San Diego was home to a major American naval base, so the pickings should have been excellent. But Nambu’s sub searched the area without finding a single warship. The next day, the
I-17
received orders to shell the continental United States. Nambu was wary. He’d been through this drill once before and had been disappointed. The
I-17
, along with eight other I-boats,
9
had been ordered to shell west coast military installations on Christmas Eve 1941.
10
Shortly before shelling was to commence, Combined Fleet Headquarters inexplicably canceled the operation. It was a
missed opportunity, given that every coastal city from Vancouver to San Diego was lit up like a carnival. Nambu suspected the mission had been called off out of respect for the Christian holiday.
11
If it had, it was a lousy reason. Maybe this time things would be different.
A list of targets was sent to the
I-17
, along with instructions to avoid San Diego.
12
Usually, sub captains had little discretion when it came to big decisions, so Nambu was thrilled when Captain Nishino called him to the wardroom to discuss target selection.
13
The
I-17
’s navigator and chief gunnery officers were also present and immediately began making suggestions.
“We should shell San Francisco!”
“No, we should shell Castroville!”
Captain Nishino was pleased. None of his officers lacked the proper fighting spirit. Still, he insisted they make their selection based on escape routes. After consideration, Nishino pointed to a spot on the map where an oil storage facility 12 miles north of Santa Barbara was located.
“This is our target!”
14
The IJN knew how important oil was.
§
15
It wasn’t just the navy’s life blood; the nation’s entire industrial base couldn’t function without it. The U.S. oil embargo against Japan had been a deciding factor in pushing them into war. Nambu understood that the
I-17
’s job was to send a message to America. It would let America know she wasn’t safe with Japanese subs off her coast. And exploding oil tanks were a good way to make a dramatic statement.
Their target would be the Barnsdall–Rio Grande Oil Company, the forerunner of ARCO.
16
Considered one of the west coast’s major oil facilities,
17
the target was a mile-long oceanfront oil field with producing wells, beachside docks, and a sizable tank farm. The area was remote, which meant the
I-17
could attack without
resistance. The target also offered an escape route, which was important to the practical-minded Nishino.
The Sixth Fleet was so bullish on the attack that it moved up the date.
18
When the captain broke the news to his crew, they were equally enthusiastic.
“We are now entering Santa Barbara Strait. We’ll lie submerged and do recon with our periscope. Then tomorrow, we’ll surface after dark and bombard the Ellwood oil field.”
19
A 1982 article in
Parade
magazine recalls a time before the war when Nishino was a tanker captain and visited the Ellwood facility. On his way to a welcoming ceremony, Nishino supposedly slipped and fell onto a cactus. While the proud captain plucked needles from his backside, refinery workers laughed at his predicament.
20
Or so the story goes. But it is fanciful. Nishino was never a tanker captain. Since admission to sub school in 1923, he’d served only aboard submarines,
21
leaving the reason for Ellwood’s selection purely strategic.
Early in the morning of Monday, February 23, 1942, the
I-17
submerged and remained underwater all day. Captain Nishino occasionally raised the periscope to have a look around. Though the ocean remained clear of enemy patrols, the day still dragged for the crew. Lunch was canned
inari-zushi
(vinegar-flavored rice wrapped in fried tofu),
22
but it was hard to taste anything. Everybody was waiting for battle stations to be called. Even Nambu was nervous. At first he tried reading a book to calm his mind. When that failed, he got something to eat. It wasn’t until later in the day that he finally relaxed enough to feel certain of success.
23
It was 5:30
P.M.
, and the
I-17
was three miles offshore when Nishino raised the periscope.
24
The tank farm could be seen sitting above the beach. The hills behind were green from winter rain, and the surf was a steady thread of white. Nishino squinted through the periscope as sunlight glinted off the silver tanks. One tank marked
RICHFIELD HI-OCTANE GASOLINE
25
held 80,000 gallons of aviation fuel. It would make a splendid target. And there was no indication of land or offshore patrols of any kind.
26
The area was deserted.
Nishino called Shimada, his gunnery officer, to the conning tower and instructed him to shell the storage tanks first, followed by the refinery. Then, at 6:30
P.M
., Nambu heard the call they’d been waiting for.
“All hands to battle stations!”
27
The men sprang into action, excited to make history. Shimada and his gun crew jammed into the tight confines of the conning tower, ready to jump on deck the moment the sub cleared the waves. All nine of Shimada’s gun crew wore white headbands around their foreheads to signal their determination.
28
Shimada wore the same.
The
I-17
was about two miles off the coast, running parallel with the shore,
29
when the sub’s starboard engine began malfunctioning.
30
The news might have deterred some sub captains,
31
but Nishino was determined to attack. Barking an order to fix the engine, he took one last look through the periscope, revealing both sea and sky to be clear. Then he turned to his hydrophone operator.