Sunday in Hell, page 58
The Hawaiian Air Force took a terrible beating as well, with losses totaling four B-17s, twelve B-18s, two A-20s, thirty-two P-40s, twenty P-36s, four P-26s, two OA-9s, one O-49, plus one B-24 on station being specially equipped for a Philippines-based reconnaissance mission. Additionally, eighty-eight pursuit planes, six reconnaissance aircraft, and thirty-four bombers had been damaged. At first it appeared all those damaged were wrecked, but 80 percent were later salvaged. The Japanese also received an unexpected bonus with the destruction of two B-17s arriving from Hamilton Field, bound for Hickam. Nevertheless, they didn’t know the real extent of the damage. Unfortunately for the Japanese Navy and their militarist government, neither did they realize the significance of the targets they failed to strike.6
Where Is The Japanese Fleet?
Admiral Nagumo stood on Akagi’s bridge peering into the sky. About 1010 hours “black points appeared far to the south one after another.” The first wave was returning, some in formation, some singly. The flight decks of all six carriers came to life, each preparing to land its planes.
Throughout the morning the weather had steadily worsened. High seas and shifting wind directions made landings difficult. Carrier crews pushed a few badly damaged planes into the sea to clear the flight deck for fuel-starved planes and their crews circling impatiently overhead. Before the day was over the Japanese would be able to tally their losses, information to help Admiral Nagumo decide whether another strike was possible - either today or tomorrow. In the meantime, the second wave began landing at 1115, with the last airplane to recover at 1214. As returning aircraft were found to be operational for another mission that day, they were being refueled and rearmed for fleet defense, in case the enemy launched a counterstrike.7
Of the 350 aircraft launched from the six carriers that morning, twenty-nine were shot down and 111 received varying degrees of damage, some during landings, with approximately 20 beyond repair and pushed over their carriers sides. Fifty-five aircraft had been held back for combat patrol (covering the fleet), or reserve, thirty Zekes launched at 0600, and recovered by 0900. Twenty-three Zekes launched at 1000, for recovery prior to 1300 hours. Based on information available, apparently 210 aircraft would be available for a second attack, with 55 again kept for combat patrol.8
Lieutenant Tomatsu Ema, who had led the dive bomb attacks on Wheeler Field, landed his Val aboard Zuikaku, where his colleagues and admirers “went wild with joy when the first reports came in.” Ema felt relieved and glad that he survived the attack. But he didn’t think all was over. He believed the enemy might launch a counterattack. He and the rest of the carrier’s airmen thought the war would go well for Japan. At least now they had a chance.9
Commander Mitsuo Fuchida’s Kate was guiding two escorting Zekes back to the carrier, fighters that would have been lost had they not tagged along. On the return flight, Fuchida’s mind centered on thoughts of a second attack that same afternoon, as soon as the remaining aircraft could be refueled and rearmed. As his pilot counted off the miles returning to Akagi, Fuchida mentally tabulated priority targets for destruction: the fuel-tank farms, the vast repair and maintenance facilities, and possibly a ship or two bypassed that morning.10
Meanwhile, Akagi’s Air Officer, Commander Shogo Masuda, was on the flight deck near the bridge, with Lieutenant Commander Shigeharu Murata, who led the first wave’s Kate level-bombers. All the flying officers were reporting to them, and Masuda was tabulating the results of the attack on a large blackboard.
Commander Minoru Genda, from the beginning, the creative genius most responsible for shaping Admiral Yamamoto’s plan, hurried down from the bridge once or twice, relaying the word to Nagumo and Rear Admiral Ryunosuke Kusaka, Nagumo’s Chief of Staff. Both admirals impatiently awaited a final tabulation. During one of Genda’s visits to the blackboard, assembled pilots urged a second attack. Genda listened but offered no opinion.11
Excitement rose to a fever pitch around Akagi’s blackboard. An accurate assessment was the immediate concern of all the pilots and observers, but they also discussed American resistance to the first wave. All agreed that reaction, “considering all the facts on that morning, was surprisingly quick.” They also agreed that the great success could not have been possible without surprise.12
About noon Fuchida’s pilot landed on Akagi’s rolling, pitching deck. An elated, smiling Genda wrung Fuchida’s hand, then rushed back to the bridge. At that moment a sailor ran up with a message that Nagumo wanted to see Fuchida immediately, but Fuchida decided to wait until he correlated his observations with those of his flight leaders. He carefully scanned the blackboard and listened to the reports of about fifteen flying officers as he sipped a cup of tea. After listening to their observations, he was satisfied theirs tallied closely with his. He could give his superiors a fairly accurate assessment. At that moment another messenger informed Fuchida that he was to report to Nagumo, and hurry.13
When he arrived on the bridge he found Kusaka, Genda, and several other key staff officers gathered with Nagumo. Fuchida planned to give a formal briefing listing events chronologically, but Nagumo interrupted impatiently: “The results - what are they?”
“Four battleships sunk,” Fuchida replied. “I know this from my own personal observation. Four battleships damaged,” he added. He then listed by berth and type the other ships his airmen had struck. Again Nagumo interrupted, “Do you think that the U.S. Fleet could not come out from Pearl Harbor within six months?”
The question made Fuchida uneasy, but he owed the admiral the truth. “The main force of the U.S. Pacific Fleet will not be able to come out within six months,” he answered. Nagumo beamed and nodded.
Kusaka resumed the questioning. “What do you think the next targets should be?” The question implied an aggressive intent, and Fuchida answered quickly. “The next targets should be the dockyards, the fuel tanks, and an occasional ship.” There was no need to attack the battleships again.
Kusaka then took up the possibility of an American counterattack. Fuchida and Genda assured him the Japanese controlled the air over both Oahu and the sea. Commander Tomatsu Oishi, Nagumo’s senior staff officer, next spoke up. “Is the enemy in a position to counterattack the task force?” Again, the direct question put Fuchida on the spot, but he knew he must be as forthright as possible. “I believe we have destroyed many enemy planes, but I do not know whether we have destroyed them all. The enemy could still attack the Fleet.” Oishi didn’t answer.
Nagumo: “Where do you think the missing U.S. carriers are?” Fuchida explained he couldn’t be certain, but they were probably training somewhere at sea, and added that by this time the carriers had received word of the attack and would be looking for the task force. The suggestion wasn’t a pleasant one for Nagumo, and Oishi fretted too over a possible counterattack. He turned to Genda for his opinion. Genda replied easily, “Let the enemy come! If he does, we will shoot his planes down.”
With a few words of praise, Nagumo dismissed Fuchida. Genda continued. He wasn’t satisfied the job was finished in spite of Fuchida’s impressive damage report. He knew his airmen had given Japan an opportunity that would never come again, and he wanted to finish the job. But he didn’t advocate another major strike that afternoon. The planes had already been refitted to attack ships at sea in case the Americans launched a counterattack. To hit Pearl Harbor again would require changing armament again. The change would hold up takeoff until dark. Sea and weather conditions had degenerated sufficiently to create even more difficult circumstances for launch and recovery, would cause confusion, and possibly result in numerous casualties.
Additionally, Lexington and Enterprise were still at large. Genda believed in his mind that, “Nagumo would have been a standing joke for generations if he had attacked Pearl Harbor again,” without first ascertaining their location. He urged Nagumo, “Stay in the area for several days and run down the enemy carriers.”
But Admiral Nagumo saw otherwise regarding the attack and withdrawal plan. He had risked Japan’s First Air Fleet, and his ships had come through without a scratch. He didn’t want to tempt fate again. The First Air Fleet continued northwest, toward refueling and home waters while Enterprise headed toward directed search areas to the southwest of Oahu.14
Among the Japanese senior Naval officers, from Admiral Yamamoto and his staff, on down, immediately after word of the success and decision to return home was made, in the months ahead there would be numerous lengthy discussions about the wisdom of Nagumo’s decision not to strike Oahu a second time. The purpose of Yamamoto’s attack plan was to secure the Japanese Empire’s left flank for six months against an incursion by the American Pacific fleet, while they drove south and southeast to achieve their greater objective and continued to maintain and build their fleet. They were convinced they would be able to hold off or defeat a weakened Pacific fleet long enough to cause the Americans to sue for peace rather than continue a prolonged fight.
Nevertheless, after first accepting Nagumo’s decision as the on scene commander, Yamamoto observed to Vice Admiral Jisaburo Ozawa on the island of Truk in late 1942, “Events have shown that it was a great mistake not to have launched a second attack against Pearl Harbor.” By failing to exploit the shock, bewilderment, and confusion on Oahu, by failing to take full advantage of its savage attack against Kimmel’s ships, by failing to pulverize the Pearl Harbor base, by failing to destroy Oahu’s vast fuel stores, and by failing to seek out and sink America’s carriers, Japan committed its first and probably greatest strategic error of the entire Pacific conflict. American Admiral Nimitz would later point out that had the Japanese destroyed the fuel tank farm, which was all above ground, the Pacific Fleet would have been forced back to the United States’ west coast. There was no other source of fuel in the Hawaiian Islands.15
* * *
The carrier Lexington, guiding Task Force 12 and still plowing toward reinforcement of Midway when the attack at Pearl Harbor occurred, had received an 0830 signal from CinCPac. Logged by the OOD, Ensign Joseph Weber, the signal read, “Hostilities with Japan commenced with air raid on Pearl Harbor.” Lexington, immediately went to general quarters and launched aircraft to begin searching for the Japanese strike fleet. Shortly thereafter the task force was ordered to turn around and proceed toward the southwest to hunt with Task Force 8, in a different area. Admiral Kimmel must have been concerned about his two carriers being widely separated, and was clearly reacting to the presumed strength of the Japanese strike fleet, by moving the task forces into positions where they could support one another.16
In another twenty-four hours most of the men of Enterprise’s Task Force 8, who delivered the twelve Marine fighter planes to Wake Island, would hear, then see firsthand, some of the marks of death and destruction, learn more of staggering losses, see the residual scars and horrors of huge explosions and fires, a devastated Hickam Field and Naval Air Station on Ford Island, capsized and sunk ships with trapped men in the hulls of Oklahoma and Utah, possibly Arizona and West Virginia; witness the desperate attempts to rescue them; and the fire still burning on Arizona and illuminating Tennessee and Maryland at night.
The damaged Pennsylvania, shattered destroyers Downes, Cassin and Shaw, all battered in the dry docks; the Maryland and hemmed-in Tennessee; the capsized minelayer, Oglala, and the grounded, listing Vestal. The continuing relentless efforts to save California and Nevada, still slowly sinking or in danger of capsizing, see men still picking up shattered bodies and body parts on ships and from the harbor’s oily waters.
Late the afternoon of 7 December, neither Admirals Kimmel at Pearl Harbor, Nagumo on Akagi leading the Japanese strike fleet, Halsey in Enterprise’s Task Force 8, nor Rear Admiral John H. Newton in Lexington’s Task Force 12, knew their adversaries’ locations. For the Americans on Oahu the situation wasn’t as simple as it was for Nagumo, and time available to find the enemy’s strike fleet began rapidly running out when the Japanese force turned to course 330 degrees at 1300. By 1700 hours Nagumo’s strike force would be approximately 350 miles north of Oahu.
Throughout the hours after the attack, it was far from clear to the Americans the Japanese effort was spent. Of necessity the defenders had to divide their battered military forces to conduct a rescue and recovery operation, a search and strike operation, and yet ensure their remaining forces were able to defend against another attack, which might include the landing of troops. With fires burning the remainder of the day, some for several days, wounded were being tended, intense efforts were underway to rescue men trapped in the capsized Oklahoma and Utah, learn if survivors were inside ships sunk upright in shallow water, find the hundreds of missing, and the dead which had to be retrieved and buried.
The majority of American military anticipated either follow-up strikes or a full-scale landing. Throughout the rest of the day there were numerous false alarms, compounded by civilian-owned radio stations gone silent which would have helped quell the rumors sweeping both the civilian and military populations. There were numerous false alarms about landings, paratrooper landings, renewed air attacks, a Japanese fleet coming around the east side of the island, and enemy aircraft carriers seen southeast of Diamond Head and south of Barbers Point. There was at least one case of warships engaging non-existent aircraft, and inevitably, there were reports of non-existent or wrongly identified ships.
Consistent with the incredulity and shock that rippled throughout the Oahu civilian and military populations when the attack began, one account stood out. Honolulu’s mayor, who stated he could see fires on the ground, shells bursting in the skies, and detonations, and that he watched the attack for half an hour and “then got a little suspicious.” More pertinently, although at first there was disbelief and numbness induced by shock, the Americans fought back furiously.
In spite of the disbelief and turmoil, the overall story was one of officers and men who were absent from ships and bases on weekend passes or liberty, making their way to command posts and action or battle stations, to find them already functioning.17
Though the response gathered intensity and fierceness as time slipped by, it was fragmented, uncoordinated, and not nearly as effective as it might have been had strategic and tactical warning been received, defense readiness and alert status elevated in advance of the attack, and information pooled and assessed during and immediately after the attack. Finally, American command and control arrangements did reassert themselves as the day wore on.
As war always does, especially when total, disastrous surprise is achieved, its powerfully-generated emotions bring out the worst as well as the best in men and women. Long-buried racial prejudice’s and hatreds came pouring out, given bitter impetus when men saw shipmates, close friends, squadron members, or roommates cut down in a bloody heap, blown apart, burned to death, or drowned in fire-swept, oily water right before their eyes. Angry, mistrustful attitudes toward the Japanese as a people - including Japanese-American (nisei) citizens - buried and long simmering in the local and military populations in Hawaii came boiling to the surface during and after the attack.18
A Zeke made a series of ineffectual strafing passes against the heavy cruiser Northampton, off the island of Kauai, while on Niihau one Zeke pilot put down expecting to be rescued by Japanese submarine [I-75], stationed near the island for that purpose. Instead he found himself a prisoner of the Hawaiian population. He enlisted the help of a Japanese alien and a nisei, and the pilot sought to recover the papers that had been taken from him. The result was an episode in which homes were burned and Hawaiians seized as hostages or shot before the Japanese airman was finally killed and the nisei killed himself.19
There was in fact a burning passion to ferret out the enemy’s carriers and exact grim retribution for the blood spilled this Sunday morning. At first Admiral Kimmel’s instinct told him that the enemy’s ships lay northward, and at 1018, a few minutes after the St. Louis passed the entrance of Pearl Harbor outbound, he advised his forces at sea: “Search from Pearl very limited account maximum twelve VP [patrol squadron] searching from Pearl. Some indication enemy force northwest Oahu. Addressees operate as directed by Comtaskforce Eight [Halsey] to intercept enemy. Composition enemy force unknown.”20
Ironically, a few minutes earlier, about 1000 hours, Patrol Squadron Fourteen’s PBY
14-P-2, one of Kaneohe’s three patrol planes that launched beginning at 0615 that morning, was attacked by nine Japanese aircraft. When Ensign Otto F. Meyer, Jr. and his crew of six departed Kaneohe, they had been assigned a search sector west, northwest of Oahu. When attacked, they were approximately 30 miles northwest of Kaena Point, Oahu’s western most point, and had heard the prior dispatches indicating hostilities had commenced. On hearing the dispatches, Meyer ordered the gun stations manned and made ready for immediate use - except for the “tunnel gun” (tail gun), which was made ready but not manned.
When the nine aircraft were first sighted, Meyer was flying the PBY-5 at 1,000 feet, and they were about six miles distant on the PBY’s bow, crossing from starboard to port, and were about 500 to 1,000 feet higher than the big patrol plane. He initially described them as “low wing monoplanes with retractable landing gear,” which meant there were no Val dive bombers among the nine. Then, as they crossed his bow, he recognized they were in a shallow turn to their port, gradually toward the PBY, and they appeared to be SBDs. But their turn to port continued, placing them on a course parallel to but opposite the PBY’s direction of flight. Meyer increased power to 2300 RPM and 33 inches of manifold pressure, while increasing speed and descending in altitude to 20 to 30 feet above the water. Distance between the PBY and the nine aircraft decreased rapidly, and as they were about to disappear from Meyer’s field of view high on the port side, he asked the waist gunners to report the planes’ actions. No sooner did he make the intercom call when he heard, “They’re coming in!”
