Great Pacific War: A History of the American-Japanese Campaign of 1931-33 (18 page)

These dispositions naturally were unknown to Admiral Doyle, but he can have been under no illusion as to the peril in which he stood. The convoy was maintaining a steady twelve knots. The flagship
Minneapolis
steamed ahead, with the
Marblehead
and
Concord
on either flank, while the destroyers formed an anti-submarine guard round the squadron, and the
Cincinnati
brought up the rear. The big airplane carrier
Saratoga
, with Captain Miller on board, arrived at 6 p.m., and was ordered to take station abreast of the flagship. And now for the first time those in the convoy had visual proof of the net that was closing round them. Heralded by the drone of their powerful engines, two large seaplanes were sighted coming up astern. They were greeted with a hot fire from the anti-aircraft guns of the
Cincinnati
, while the
Saratoga
sent up pursuit planes to engage them. One of the Japanese machines, flying over the convoy at a height of 5,000 feet, dropped two heavy bombs, but the aim was bad and no ship was hit. The other machine made for the
Saratoga
, apparently bent on delivering an attack from a low altitude, but before it could release any bombs, it was brought down by a shell bursting under it, some of the
debris
falling on the deck of the
Minneapolis
. The first plane, having discharged its bombs without effect, flew off to the westward, closely pursued by the fighters from the
Saratoga
, which were at least twice as speedy. In five minutes it was overtaken and brought down, after a brisk action in which one of the American planes also came to grief.

Admiral Doyle knew, however, that the two Japanese scouts would have reported his position to the pursuing fleet before launching their attack. Twice during the night other airplanes were heard, but no bombs were dropped. It was now all but certain that the morrow would decide the fate of the expedition. If the next twenty-four hours passed without bringing a superior force of enemy ships on the scene, the convoy would probably be safe, for the Japanese, knowing as they must that the American battle fleet was steaming westward at full speed, would certainly not press the pursuit so far. But with the first glimmer of dawn on the 9th came unmistakable signs of danger. On the southwest horizon smoke was observed, from which soon emerged the dim shapes of four large vessels. Planes sent up to scout signalled the approach of enemy cruisers, which appeared to be of powerful design. It was, indeed, the squadron of Admiral Isomura, who, having found his quarry, was coming up at maximum speed to strike a deadly blow for the cause of Nippon.

At first sight the opposing forces did not seem unequally matched. Each contained four cruisers, and although the
Minneapolis
was the only American ship that mounted 8-inch guns — against three Japanese vessels so armed — Admiral Doyle had his thirty destroyers, not to speak of the
Saratoga
, whose planes might well turn the balance in his favour. The enemy had no destroyers, and their only airplanes were those carried on board the cruisers. Had Admiral Doyle been free to handle his fighting ships as a tactical unit, he might, nay probably would, have had the best of the duel. But cumbered as he was with the flock of slow and helpless transports, which must on no account be left unguarded, his freedom of action was necessarily restricted. Line of battle was formed at 7 a.m., the enemy then being 23,000 yards away. The
Minneapolis
and her three smaller consorts, in line ahead, were on the starboard side of the transports, which had been ordered to steer a course to the north-east. Twelve destroyers were told off to guard them, for the danger of submarine attack was ever present. The
Saratoga
, occupying a station between the transports and the battle line, was out of range of gunfire and yet in a favourable position to send her planes either to support Admiral Doyle or repel an attack on the convoy, as circumstances required. The twenty destroyers retained with the squadron were disposed ahead and to starboard of the flagship, ready to attack the enemy’s line with torpedoes at the word of command.

While these dispositions were being made, more Japanese seaplanes were observed coming up from the west, though at too great a height to be reached by gunfire. They had come from the Bonins, and formed part of the contingent of long-range flying boats which had left Yokosuka and Kure on the previous day. With a cruising endurance of three thousand miles, they were able to keep aloft for two days at a time. “It was from the radio-phone reports of these aircraft that Admiral Isomura obtained that early and precise intelligence of the enemy’s formation which enabled him to deliver his attack with telling effect,” to quote from the Japanese naval staff history of the war. “On learning the respective positions of the American columns, he at once ordered the
Kasagi
to make a
detour
and sweep down upon the transports from the north, while the Admiral himself, with his three other ships, held the American naval squadron under fire.” Observing that one of the Japanese cruisers withdrew from the line and steamed north at high speed, Admiral Doyle — as we know from surviving officers of his staff — realised immediately what was intended. His first instinct was to turn his whole line sixteen points and hasten in pursuit, but a moment’s reflection showed him the futility of such a procedure. As the three Japanese cruisers, which were now running almost parallel with him but gradually closing the range, held on unswervingly, it was plain that if he turned in pursuit of the
Kasagi
they would themselves steer straight for the transports. The most he could do was to signal the destroyers with the convoy to head off the
Kasagi
at all costs, at the same time ordering the
Saratoga
to launch planes against her.

Even as these orders were being issued, the action opened with a salvo from the Japanese flagship, which, with the
Toshino
and
Ohi
, had now closed to 18,000 yards. But this distance, although nominally within the reach of their 8-inch guns, was too great for effective practice, and for some time the shooting was erratic. Not until the range was down to 16,000 yards did Admiral Doyle give the word to open fire. All his ships opened on the enemy, but the 6-inch projectiles from the
Cincinnati
,
Marblehead
, and
Concord
were seen to be falling short. The third 8-inch salvo from the
Minneapolis
straddled the
Chitose
, and the cannonade from both sides now rose to a crescendo of fury. Admiral Doyle tried repeatedly to close the range in order to bring the 6-inch guns of his other ships into action, but the enemy each time turned away, keeping just inside the 16,000-yard limit at which they reaped the full benefit of their higher-powered artillery. Moreover, they were forging rapidly ahead, for Admiral Doyle dared not let himself be lured too far away from his transports, and accordingly had not yet exceeded twenty knots, though his adversaries were doing at least twenty-five. But at this juncture he raised speed to twenty-three, for the Japanese were plainly trying to “cross his T” — that is, to cut across the head of his line and subject it to enfilade fire, a manœvre that would also open the transports to direct attack. It was to circumvent this design that the American commander put on more speed. As the Japanese had already turned inward four points, the two squadrons were now converging at high velocity, arid the range dropped swiftly from 16,000 yards to 12,000, and, for a short interval, even to 9,000 yards. This proved the hottest phase of the action. Each side was firing with the utmost rapidity, and hitting had begun in earnest. A well-placed 8-inch salvo from the
Minneapolis
struck the
Chitose
amidships, bringing down her forward funnel and starting a big fire. Two minutes later the
Minneapolis
herself received several hits in succession, one of which wrecked the conning-tower, killing Admiral Doyle on the spot and laving low all its other occupants. Momentarily out of control, the flagship yawed badly, presenting her bows to the enemy, who plastered her with bursting shell before she could be swung back into line.

It was now 8 a.m. The battle had been in progress a full hour, but it continued to rage with unabated fury. At 8.05 a.m. the
Ohi
, upon which the
Cincinnati
had been concentrating rapid salvos, was seen to be dropping astern in a grievous plight. Her quarterdeck was blazing, dense clouds of steam arose, and few of her guns remained in action. Three shore broadsides finished her. Following a terrific explosion amidships, she turned over and went to the bottom at 8.15. But she did not pass unavenged. Already the Japanese preponderance in heavy metal had begun to tell. The
Minneapolis
, with two turrets knocked out and half-a-dozen great gaps yawning in her side, was nearing the limit of her endurance. In the
Marblehead
8-inch shells had wrecked the entire forward battery, while others, penetrating the sides of the ship, had caused so much water to enter that she had a heavy list to starboard. This not only brought down her speed, but prevented her guns from bearing on the enemy. The
Concord
also had received extensive damage, though she was still able to steam and fight most of her guns, albeit with “scratch” crews, most of the original gun parties having been killed or wounded by heavy splinters which the thin turret and casemate armour failed to keep out. The
Cincinnati
, engaged principally with the lightly-armed
Ohi
— seven 5.5- inch guns — had escaped serious injury, her only bad hit being a shell in the forward boiler-room.

On the Japanese side, the
Chitose
had one turret disabled, her port engines were wrecked, and fires were raging in several parts of the ship. The
Yoshino
had only superficial damage until she was hit by a torpedo — the only one that found a billet in spite of several attacks by the American destroyers — and even this failed to disable her, exploding as it did a few feet from the bows.

At an early stage of the engagement Admiral Doyle had ordered his destroyers to attack. This they proceeded to do with the utmost gallantry, in the teeth of a hurricane fire that took a heavy toll of the flotilla. Five boats were sunk outright or disabled in the first onslaught, and not one of the twenty or thirty torpedoes they discharged scored a hit. In the second attack the
Yoshino
was hit, but again the aggressors were driven off with heavy loss. Of the twenty boats originally with the squadron, only nine were still battle-worthy.

It was now 8.45 a.m., and Admiral Isomura made a determined attempt to end the business. Signalling the
Yoshino
to concentrate on the
Minneapolis
, he turned his own big guns on the same target, ordering rapid fire. Under this terrible punishment the American flagship seemed literally to crumple up. Her sides being almost bare of armour, the 250-pounder shell hacked her through and through, whilst repeated detonations had ruptured the armour deck in more than one place, causing fragments to rain down on the machinery. Cascades of water were also pouring below, putting out the furnaces and driving stokers and engineers from their posts. Finally the ship, ceasing to move, lay helpless under the hail of fire and steel that continued to beat upon her. The
Marblehead
, sorely wounded though she was, made a valiant effort to shield the flagship by interposing her own battered hull between the enemy and their prey. But it was too late. The
Minneapolis
, now at her last gasp made her final plunge at 9.05, destroyers rescuing eighty officers and men from the water.

Having disposed of his chief antagonist, the Japanese admiral steamed in to finish off the rest of the American squadron. His two ships were pouring shell into the
Marblehead
, and also hitting the
Concord
freely, when they found themselves assailed in turn by a flight of planes, which rained down gas and phosphorus bombs. The
Chitose
bore the brunt of this attack, and suffered severely, especially from the gas fumes, which disabled every man on deck and soon percolated through into the turrets and lower compartments. Enveloped in a shroud of noxious vapour, shot here and there with livid flame, the big cruiser turned sharply away, seemingly quite out of control, with every gun silent. At this moment the destroyers
Goldsborough
and
Preston
, observing the enemy’s plight, dashed forward and fired their tubes at a range of only five hundred yards. Most of the torpedoes struck home together, the detonations merging in a single thunderous roar, while tongues of fire leapt as high as the masthead. As the smoke lifted the
Chitose
was seen to be on her beam ends, and two minutes later she capsised and sank. While American destroyers were searching for survivors, the airplanes were fiercely assailing the
Yoshino
, which ship was now in full flight. Although hit several times, with half her crew gassed into insensibility, she contrived to make good her escape.