Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (17 page)

At midnight on October 29 he ventured within a mile of the entrance to Port Lloyd (Futami Ko), but again without seeing or hearing anything to suggest that a considerable naval force was lying in the harbour. On the following night he cruised round the islands with the same negative result. At length, on November 2, he brought his visit to a close and headed back for Wake Island. Three hundred miles east of the Bonins he was met by submarines
S
28
,
S
40
, and
R
23
, which carried a full relief complement for the
V1
.

Commander Groves and his men having transferred to the
S
40
, their places were taken by Lieutenant-Commander Bryant and the new crew, while
V
1
refilled her fuel tanks from the
R
23
. This boat had been converted into a submersible tanker by the removal of her engines and all other equipment, and had been brought to the rendezvous in tow of
S
28
. Thanks to this ingenious arrangement, the
V
1
was back at her post near the Bonins in less than forty-eight hours after leaving it. As time went on the inshore patrol was reinforced by
V
3
, and so organised that the islands were kept almost continually under observation. It speaks well for the skill and discretion with which this extremely difficult work was accomplished that the Japanese never, from first to last, suspected the presence of enemy submarines. The only incident of importance that occurred during a vigil lasting for months was the arrival at Port Lloyd on December 4 of the Japanese main fleet. The
V
3
, on patrol at the time, sighted them thirty miles north-west of Ototo Shima, and stayed on the surface long enough to identify the big battleships. She then dived, and remained below for the rest of the day, compelled to keep her electromotors running because the sea was too deep for her to rest on the bottom, and fervently hoping that the hydrophones in the Japanese ships would not betray her presence. She made no attempt to attack the oncoming fleet, since for obvious reasons the submarines of the Bonin patrol had stringent orders never to molest enemy ships.

On this occasion the fleet spent only one day at Port Lloyd, which was fortunate for the
V
3
, seeing that she was due to pick up her relief, the
V
1
, at the distant rendezvous on December 7, and her non-arrival would have thrown the patrol organisation out of gear. On the other hand, it was of the first importance that the length of the enemy fleets sojourn in the islands should be noted. On December 5 it again put to sea, and that same day the American submarine watched from a respectful distance the Japanese battleships carrying out gun practice. These periodical cruises to and from the Bonins were evidently made for training purposes only, and did not appear to have any strategical significance. Nevertheless, they introduced a further element of uncertainty into Admiral Morrison’s project, for if the would-be invaders were to find Japanese battleships awaiting them, nothing could avert disaster. To guard against this risk, it would be necessary for the sailing of the expedition to be held back until the enemy's fleet was known to have returned to Yokosuka after one of its visits, and this in turn made it doubly essential to carry on the submarine patrol with undiminished vigilance.

Preparations for the great enterprise had all this time been going forward actively. The scene of operations was unfamiliar to American naval officers, few of whom had ever visited the Bonins. First sighted by the Spanish explorer Villalobos in 1543, they were re-discovered fifty years later by a Japanese navigator, Ogasawara Sadayori. From early in the nineteenth century American whalers used occasionally to touch at the islands, and in June, 1853, Commodore Perry paid a call with the United States warships
Susquehanna
and
Saratoga
. In 1861 a party of Japanese colonists, headed by a Government commissioner, landed in Peel Island, but they seem to have found the territory inhospitable, for their stay was brief. Oddly enough, the first white resident of the Bonins was an American, Nathaniel Savory, who was born at Bedford, Massachusetts. In the course of his roving career he came to Peel Island in 1830, there married a native woman from the Mariana group, and settled down. Surrounded by numerous children he lived on the island for many years, dying in 1874 at the ripe age of eighty. Previous to 1875 Japan had evinced little interest in the Bonins. In that year, however, she learned of a British design to annex the territory, and proceeded to forestall it by dispatching a commissioner. Landing at Port Lloyd on November 26, this official took possession in the name of the Emperor of Japan.

The Bonins — or Ogasawara Islands, as they are officially designated, after their second discoverer — are of volcanic origin. The largest of the group are Peel Island (Chichi Shima), Bailey Island (Haha Shima), and Buckland Island (Ani Shima), the principal harbour being Port Lloyd (Futami Ko) in Peel Island. Here are situated the Government buildings, the observatory, the garrison headquarters, and the cable station, for the trans-Pacific cable from Hawaii crosses the island. The harbour, which is simply an immense volcanic crater, is small, but easy of access and fairly well sheltered. In many places the cliffs rise almost sheer from the beach, and deep water is found everywhere save right inshore. While nothing authentic was known of the fortifications at this place, it was believed that the armament was confined to heavy rapid-fire guns, mounted in concrete emplacements on the heights overlooking Port Lloyd and Fitton Bay, the last-named being a small harbour on the south-east side of the island. The great depth of water in this area made mine-laying difficult, and the impunity with which American submarines had approached almost to the mouth of the harbour was held to be proof that no mine-fields existed. As a measure of precaution, however, all ships taking part in the expedition were to be equipped with paravanes.

For the transport of the invading force twenty-five steamers had been taken over, the slowest of them having a speed of twelve knots. Those in which guns and other heavy materials were to be carried were fitted with powerful derricks, and had large ports, provided with strong hinged gangways, or “brows” cut in their sides. Trials made at Puget Sound, where many of the transports were fitted out, showed that 7-inch guns could be brought up from the holds and passed down the gangways to the quay in a very short space of time. Among the impedimenta carried were eighty airplanes, mainly of the combat type. These, it was estimated, could be unloaded, assembled, and made ready for flight within a few hours from the time of landing. The army of invasion, under the command of General Dykeman, was made up of a complete Army Division, with certain additions, and included the following units:

2 brigades of Infantry.

3 regiments of Field Artillery.

1 regiment of Heavy Tractor Artillery.

1 company Signal Corps.

1 Gas Battalion.

1 regiment of Engineers.

1 Medical regiment.

Various other units, including an Air Detachment, Motor Transport and Ammunition Units.

This force numbered in all about 22,000 men. Having regard to the restricted harbour area at Port Lloyd and the limited quayage available, it was arranged that a flotilla of motor lighters should assist in the unloading of ships for which there was no room at the wharf. A great many of these lighters had been ordered, with the idea that each transport should tow one or two on the last leg of the voyage, from Wake Island to the objective. The naval escort over this stage was to be furnished by the new cruiser
Minneapolis
, of 10,000 tons, with a battery of 8-inch guns, the cruisers
Concord
and
Marblehead
; and thirty destroyers, with the tenders
Buffalo
and
Melville
. This force was under the command of Rear-Admiral Doyle. The initial gas bombardment of Port Lloyd was to be carried out by one hundred seaplanes from the carriers
Saratoga
,
Langley
,
Houston
, and
Shafter
, the last two being large steamers improvised for the purpose. Admiral Dallinger’s battle fleet was under orders to assemble at Midway, whence it would make a sweeping movement in the direction of Wake Island, remaining within radio call, of the expedition. Oilers and storeships would follow, in readiness to replenish the fleet at Wake Island should circumstances render this necessary. All these movements, of course, were co-ordinated by a schedule drawn up by a board of naval and military officers.

Allowance was made for every contingency that could be foreseen. If the attack on Peel Island brought out the Japanese main body from Yokosuka, the American battle fleet was to steam to the Bonins at full speed and engage the enemy. Admiral Dallinger’s ships, it is true, would arrive there with much of their fuel consumed, but if the Japanese fleet were destroyed, or even badly mauled, this would be a matter of small moment; for with the Bonins securely held by the invading force, tankers and supply ships could proceed there in comparative safety. The drawback to this plan was that no dock was available in the islands, and severely damaged ships would thus be without means of repair. On the other hand, if battle were fairly joined, the American preponderance in gun-power ought to ensure a swift and complete victory. Subject to favourable reports from the submarine patrol off the Bonins, the expedition was timed to leave Honolulu on December 20, and Midway six days later. Wake Island should be reached on or about January 2, and Port Lloyd by the 8th.

Towards the end of November the troops selected for the enterprise were all gathered at Hawaii, and as many of the transports were then ready, it was possible to put the officers and men through a special course of disembarkation drill. As the Japanese fleet had last visited the Bonins on December 4-5, there was small likelihood of its reappearing there for at least two months in the ordinary course of events; and in any case the American submarines on guard might be trusted to give timely warning if it again approached the islands while the expedition was
en
route
. After weighing all these considerations, the Naval Staff decided to adhere to the original schedule, and the transport fleet, with its naval escort, was ordered to sail from Honolulu on December 20. At 4 p.m. on that date the twenty-five steamers, crowded with troops, passed out of the roadstead and were joined at sea by the warships. No chances were taken, for enemy submarines had already been active in Hawaiian waters, and had even sown mines off Pearl Harbour, as related in an earlier chapter. The fleet was accordingly preceded by minesweepers for a distance of ten miles, while the destroyers acted as a screen against submarine attack, this duty being performed by them throughout the voyage.

At Midway, which was reached without incident on December 26, the greater part of the battle fleet was found at anchor in Seward Roads. By this time the troops, having gained their “sea legs,” were in high spirits and full of confidence in the success of their great adventure. Among the senior officers, however, optimism was less in evidence. Admiral Dallinger himself entertained serious misgivings, to which he had previously given expression in a memorandum to the Navy Department. The whole plan, he pointed out, ran directly counter to the first principles of naval strategy. Mahan, Colomb, and other authoritative historians of sea power had all demonstrated by numerous precedents the importance of gaining command of the sea before embarking on military expeditions against hostile territory. Yet in this instance no such command had been gained. As a bait to entice the enemy’s fleet the expedition might justify itself, but the risks were — in the Admiral’s words —  “appalling,” and he did not hesitate to describe the scheme as “verging closely on a reckless
gamble
.” These criticisms, however, had failed to convince the Cabinet; and finding their decision immutable Admiral Dallinger turned with a heavy heart to do his share in achieving what he, at least, firmly believed to be the impossible.

CHAPTER XII

Expedition suffers severe damage in a gale — Arrangements for junction of squadrons dislocated — Japanese take the alarm — Expedition retreats, but is brought to action by Japanese — Both sides suffer heavily — Return of remnant of expedition

AFTER a twenty-four hours’ stay at Midway, where the final arrangements were concerted, the expedition left on December 27 for the second stage of its voyage — the 1034-mile run to Wake Island. The battle fleet sailed a day later, steering a course more to the northward. The weather, up to this date, had been propitious, but on the night of December 29 a violent south-west gale broke. Huge waves swept over the transports, causing much damage to boats and deck gear, while the look-out men, blinded by flying spray, could no longer see the dim stern lights that marked the position of the ships, this being the only illumination permitted now that the expedition was nearing enemy waters. At 1 a.m. on the 30th, when the storm was at its height, the transport
Marquette
was rammed by her next astern, the
Arlington
, which struck her a violent blow on the port quarter, tearing a great rent in her side and putting the steering gear out of action. Instantly the damaged ship began to fill, her plight being rendered hopeless by the mountainous seas which broke over her as she lost way and became unmanageable. Searchlight signals apprised the rest of the scattered convoy of the disaster, but it was little they could do to help their ill-starred consort. As the 1,200 troops on board the
Marquette
tried to muster on deck, scores were swept to their doom by the waves that washed over the waterlogged vessel. No boats could live in such a sea, and of the few that were lowered, none survived for more than a minute. By now, however, destroyers were on the scene. With splendid gallantry the commanders of the
Somers
,
Worden
, and
Bancroft
brought their craft alongside the sinking ship, disregarding the imminent peril of being dashed against her hull. Seeing help near at hand, most of the soldiers threw themselves into the water, and though many were engulfed, 530 were picked up by the destroyers. Half-an-hour after the collision the
Marquette
gave a last lurch and foundered by the stern. Including members of the crew, upwards of 900 lives were lost.

Nor did this complete the full tale of the disaster, for at 1.30 a.m. the
Arlington
reported herself to be making water fast and unable to steer. Her bows had been stove in when she ran into the
Marquette
, and a large section of plating below the waterline wrenched away by a great sea that struck her as she was drawing clear of the former ship. With the forward bulkhead showing signs of collapse she dared not steam ahead; one of the forward compartments was flooded, the forecastle was nearly awash, and the propellers were lifting out of the water. Had the sea been calm, she might have remained afloat, but in view of the weather then prevailing it was clear she was doomed. There was nothing for it but to abandon the ship, but before launching his boats on that tempestuous sea, Captain Starkey requested the destroyers to pump oil on the raging waters, and by this expedient several boatloads of men contrived to reach the warships. Others jumped overboard and were picked up, while more were saved by lifelines. The
Arlington
sank at 3 a.m., taking down with her about 150 men.

By noon on the following day, when the sea had become less rough, the shipwrecked troops saved by the destroyers were put on board other transports, and the voyage was resumed, though the tragedy of the night cast a gloom over the whole expedition. Apart from the heavy loss of life, a quantity of munitions and other essential stores had gone down in the two ships. Several vessels had sustained such injury to derricks and other gear as would prevent them from discharging rapidly. Worse still was the loss of the lighters, which it had been necessary to cast adrift when the storm began. Four were recovered, but the others had vanished. As these craft were to have been the means of getting a great part of the artillery and heavy stores ashore at Port Lloyd, their absence would inevitably lead to delay, and might therefore have serious consequences.

On reviewing the position, Admiral Doyle felt grave doubts as to the wisdom of going on with the enterprise. As senior naval officer it lay in his discretion to break off the voyage and turn back, but this he was loath to do, knowing the immensity of the issues at stake. Whatever decision he came to must be reached on his own responsibility, for his orders expressly enjoined him not to send radio signals after leaving Wake Island until the landing had been accomplished, or unless Japanese warships appeared. He was thus debarred from communicating with the Commander-in-Chief of the battle fleet, or with any other authority competent to instruct him. At length, after conferring with General Dykeman, who entered a strong protest against turning back, he made up his mind to proceed. Whether he erred in taking this course is a question which has since provoked endless discussion. Since Admiral Doyle did not himself survive the expedition, we are left in doubt as to the considerations which led him to form his resolve. It can only be said that the facts, so far as they are known, fully warranted his reluctance to abandon the voyage. The sinking of two transports, with the loss of nearly 1,100 troops and valuable war stores, was admittedly a heavy blow, but it could hardly be said to have so weakened the force as to rule out all chance of success. Much more serious from the strictly practical point of view was the loss of the motor lighters and the extensive damage to cargo-handling gear, for these factors were to have played a supremely important
role
in the actual landing. But Admiral Doyle had good grounds for believing that the invading army, together with its equipment, could still be thrown on shore before the Japanese fleet had time to intervene, always assuming the preliminary gas offensive to have done its work. If enemy battleships were not at sea, the only naval forces likely to be encountered would be torpedo-craft and submarines, or, at the very worst, light cruisers, and to deal with these Admiral Doyle had his three cruisers and numerous destroyers. In view of these circumstances, impartial historians will acquit him of having acted rashly in deciding to proceed with the venture.

Owing to the delay caused by the storm and the sinking of the two transports, the morning of January 8, 1932, found the flotilla still some 250 miles to the eastward of the Bonins. Here it was to have been joined by the airplane-carrier squadron, under Captain Miller, but when the rendezvous was reached, no trace of these ships could be discerned. The expedition, it was true, was forty-eight hours behind time, but it was scarcely conceivable that Captain Miller had failed to allow for the possibility of delay. Admiral Doyle assumed, therefore, that his colleague was in the vicinity, and dispatched four destroyers to look for him. Airplanes from the
Minneapolis
and the
Concord
were also flown off to join in the search. But, in fact, Captain Miller’s squadron was still at a considerable distance from the rendezvous. He, too, had met with heavy weather some ten days before, and the
Shafter
had sustained such damage to her rudder and one of the screws as practically to disable her. An attempt was made to repair the injury to the rudder, but without success, and there was nothing for it but to take the vessel in tow. As her starboard propeller was still in action she was able, with the assistance of the
Saratoga’s
towing spring, to maintain a speed of fourteen knots, but since this was some knots less than the collective speed of the squadron, its voyage was seriously retarded.

Perceiving that he would be several days late in arriving at the rendezvous, Captain Miller detached his only escort cruiser, the
Cincinnati
(Captain Edwards) to try to establish contact with the expeditionary force and explain the situation. His destroyers he kept with him, for the squadron was now within the radius of submarine attack and, with a partially disabled ship on his hands, he could afford to take no chances. Shortly after dawn on January 8 the
Cincinnati
observed a periscope less than a thousand yards ahead, and almost simultaneously two torpedoes were seen approaching. These were easily avoided by a touch of the helm, but before the cruiser could open fire the enemy had disappeared. Five minutes later a second submarine was observed on the surface, too far off for torpedo attack. Several shots were fired at her, but she dived before the range could be found. Fearing lest the airplane carriers should run into an ambush, Captain Edwards flashed a message to Captain Miller, giving the position in which the submarines had been sighted. He used his radio without hesitation, knowing that his presence would in any case be reported to Japanese headquarters by the submarine scouts which had intercepted him. Moreover, since he had been detected comparatively near the Bonins, the enemy would certainly jump to the conclusion that an assault on the islands was impending, and instantly take counter-measures.

The entire situation had thus undergone a radical change. Surprise was now out of the question. Not only would the garrison be warned, but, what was far more serious, every Japanese warship within call would soon be rushing toward the islands. Even the battleships, provided they were at Yokosuka, could reach Port Lloyd in twenty-four hours. That a general alarm had been sounded was made clear by the radio activity which now ensued. In the space of a few hours scores of messages were taken in by the
Cincinnati
, but being in Japanese code they could not be read. Nevertheless, their significance was unmistakable. The
Cincinnati’s
message reporting enemy submarines had reached Captain Miller at 6.30 a.m. Fully alive to the critical posture of affairs, his whole concern now was for the safety of the transport convoy, of whose whereabouts he was still ignorant. He therefore ordered the
Cincinnati
to continue her search. It was clear, of course, that the projected attack on the Bonins could not now take place. Consequently, the airplane carriers were no longer needed, and it was essential to their safety that they should be withdrawn as quickly as possible from what would speedily become a highly dangerous area. But since a fast and powerful carrier like his flagship, the
Saratoga
, with her complement of bombing planes, would be invaluable for covering the retreat of the transports, he proposed to join up with the convoy, while the three other carriers, including the disabled
Shafter
, steamed eastward until they made contact with the battle fleet.

By this time Admiral Dallinger, the Commander-in-Chief, had been apprised of the situation, the full gravity of which was painfully evident to him. His position was, roughly, 450 miles to the north-west of Wake, and therefore about 1,200 miles from the Bonins. Although still unaware of the delay to which the expeditionary force had been subjected by reason of the storm and the sinking of two transports, the fact that it had not yet joined the airplane-carrier squadron showed that a fatal hitch had occurred in the programme. If, as he surmised, the transports were now nearing the Bonins, it meant that the Japanese fleet from Yokosuka could reach them in less than half the time it would take him to do so, and he knew that Admiral Doyle’s small force could offer no serious resistance to such an overwhelming attack. In face of this appalling danger, no effective action seemed possible. But although his worst forebodings seemed to be confirmed, the Commander-in-Chief was in no doubt as to what he should do. His fleet had expended approximately one-third of its fuel during the voyage from Midway, so that enough remained for a prolonged run at high speed, though it was essential to preserve a margin for the homeward journey. Still, the safety of the expeditionary force overrode every other consideration for the time being. And so, at 8 a.m. on January 8 the three battle divisions, comprising the swiftest of the heavy ships, with their attendant cruisers and destroyers, were driving westward at a speed of eighteen knots, steering a course direct for Port Lloyd.

In the meantime, however, we must revert to the expeditionary force, which circumstances had placed in extreme jeopardy. When the coining of daylight on January 8 failed to reveal the airplane carriers which were to have met him, Admiral Doyle, as we have seen, sent out destroyers and air scouts to locate the missing squadron. Pending news of it he deemed it prudent to alter course to the north — from which direction the carriers were expected to come — rather than hold on toward the Bonins. At 7.30 a.m. he intercepted the
Cincinnati’s
signal to Captain Miller, reporting enemy submarines, and at once realised all that this portended.

The expedition, he saw, must be abandoned forthwith, for the enemy would now be on the alert, and it could only be a question of hours before powerful Japanese forces were converging upon him. Orders were accordingly given for the convoy to retrace its course at the highest speed possible. The destroyers sent out to reconnoitre were recalled. Half-an-hour later came the welcome intelligence from one of the
Minneapolis’s
airplanes that the
Cincinnati
was in sight. She arrived by noon, and Admiral Doyle learned from her that the
Saratoga
was racing at full speed to join his flag. By 5 p.m. the convoy was 350 miles to the west of the Bonins, and as every hour reduced the danger of pursuit by the Japanese main fleet, those on board began to breathe more freely. But the evil fortune which had dogged the expedition almost from the start had not yet deserted it. When the general warning was sent out from Yokosuka on January 8, the Japanese main body was at sea, cruising about three hundred miles due east of that port. At the same time the “South Seas Squadron,” under Rear-Admiral Isomura, was fifty miles north-west of the Mariana Islands, having left Sasebo three days before on a cruise to the south seas. This squadron consisted of the
Chitose
(flag),
Yoshino
, and
Kasagi
— 10,000-ton ships of recent construction, armed with 8-inch guns and possessing a speed of thirty-four knots — besides the smaller cruiser
Ohi
. A message relayed from Port Lloyd was received by Admiral Isomura, instructing him to cut off enemy forces which were believed to be four hundred miles east or northeast of the Bonins, and he at once complied by ordering his ships to increase speed to twenty-five knots. The Japanese main fleet, being at so great a distance from the scene, had little chance of intervening, but three of its 28-knot battlecruisers were sent on ahead to join forces, if possible, with Admiral Isomura. Further to strengthen the pursuit, twelve big flying boats, with a great radius of action, were dispatched from Yokosuka and Kure to Port Lloyd, whence they were to co-operate with Admiral Isomura in locating the American force and bringing it to action. Finally, a division of submarines from Guam was ordered to cruise to westward of Wake Island, for which the Americans were thought to be heading, and to harass their retreat.