Authors: John Geoghegan
Tags: #Non-Fiction, #History
A
Nanzan
was also reportedly brought to the United States. Last seen in poor condition at Seattle Naval Air Station during the 1950s, she disappeared without a trace and is presumed to have been scrapped.
50
Despite finding Nambu’s sub, the
I-401
, and Shimizu’s
I-14
, the Hawaii Undersea Research Laboratory (HURL) has yet to find the
I-400
. The general location of Kusaka’s sub is known, and it’s probably just a matter of time before HURL locates it during one of its test dives.
Many naval historians view the
Sen-toku
squad as a dead branch on the family tree of submarines. But the story of Yamamoto’s underwater aircraft carriers is by no means over. What was once dismissed as an “undersea dinosaur”
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takes on a more meaningful role when one realizes the
I-400
s were the strategic predecessors to today’s ballistic missile submarines.
For example, Rear Adm. John D. Butler gives partial credit to the
I-400
s for the Regulus missile program,
52
lending credence to various paternity claims. Certainly the resemblance between the
I-400
subs and the Regulus missile–carrying subs is striking.
The Regulus missile program began eight years after the war ended. A primitive version of the Tomahawk cruise missile used today, Regulus missiles carried a thermonuclear warhead and were stored inside a sub’s massive watertight deck hangar, similar to the
I-400
s. They also required a sizable platform for launching—another link to
I-400
paternity.
The first Regulus missile was launched from the deck of the USS
Tunny
(SSG 282) in July 1953. The
Tunny
and her sister sub, the USS
Barbero
(SSG 317), were retrofitted with a giant watertight hangar to carry the missile. They were later joined by two purpose-built Regulus submarines, the USS
Grayback
(SSG 574) and USS
Growler
(SSG 577) in 1958, and the nuclear-powered USS
Halibut
(SSGN 587) in 1960. Together these five boats formed the first U.S. nuclear deterrent patrol submarines.
53
The ability of U.S. submarines to launch nuclear weapons undetected became the backbone of the nation’s strategic deterrent force. At the very least, then, the Regulus missile program marked an important evolution of the
I-400
s as an offensive weapon. The
I-400
s helped demonstrate that a large, stable sub with a watertight
deck hangar could be built to launch an offensive airborne weapon against an enemy’s cities.
54
The Regulus subs even suffered the same tactical disadvantage as the
I-400
s—they had to surface before launching, making them vulnerable to attack.
The successful development of the underwater-launched Polaris missile put an end to the Regulus program. Nevertheless, Regulus missile subs were clearly a strategic descendant of the
I-400s
. Other accounts suggest
I-400
sub design was incorporated into the U.S. Navy’s next generation of Tang class submarines, just as Wernher von Braun’s V-2 program became the backbone for later U.S. ballistic missile and space programs. This probably gives the technology more credit than it warrants. Still, the
I-400
s proved it was possible to build a stealthy and stable underwater launch platform when it came to developing nuclear missile submarines.
A new Japan arose out of the ashes of World War II. Her postwar constitution mandates she remain a pacifist, nonnuclear nation, with a military deterrent focused solely on defense. Despite this fact, Japan’s military budget in 2010 was the sixth largest in the world, behind the United States, China, France, the U.K., and Russia.
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Though the U.S. security umbrella protects the Japanese from aggressors, it has made for an oddly reliant relationship. While by no means a vassal state, Japan is not wholly independent either, especially where national defense is concerned. Sixty-six years after the war ended, the United States remains “the dominant military force in the Pacific” and continues to wield a strong military, cultural, and economic influence on Japan.
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It is precisely this fear of U.S. hegemony that drove Japan to attack Pearl Harbor in the first place. It also explains the strong nationalistic streak alive in some parts of Japan today. The United States even exercises wide influence over Japan’s submarine force. For example, the JMSDF relies on diesel subs, even though it could easily afford to buy and operate nuclear ones. The U.S. military prefers it this way.
The Imperial Japanese Navy’s dream of launching airplanes from a submarine was not as easily frustrated. This legacy is surprising, considering that the
Sen-toku
force saw only eight months of service between commissioning and surrender: its
Seiran
never flew in combat; its subs never fired a shot in anger; it attacked not a single enemy. But that didn’t make a difference for the men who served on the subs and planes. They were prepared to die nonetheless.
It’s not particularly strange, then, that the Naval General Staff’s plan to bomb New York and Washington, D.C., the Panama Canal, and Ulithi is so little known. Cold war secrecy has something to do with it, as does failure. But the chief reason the
I-400
s’ story is not well known is that victors rarely celebrate their enemy’s courage and determination.
There are few signs today that the
I-400
s ever existed. Several items can be found in personal collections and in one or two institutions, including the USS
Bowfin
Submarine Museum at Pearl Harbor. Among the objects scattered among various prize crew members are a bridge compass, a barometer, a sword,
Seiran
aircrew insignia, uniform buttons, personal mail, chopsticks, a teacup, and the notes (written in English) that
I-401
officers used to negotiate the sub’s surrender with Captain Johnson. Additional objects have been auctioned on eBay.
Among the relics thought to have been destroyed when the war ended were the
I-400
s’ blueprints. The author stumbled upon the only existing set during a visit to a naval base in Japan. While discussing the
I-400s
with the base’s commandant, a staff officer mentioned a box that had recently been given to them when its owner, a former IJN engineer, died. Inside the box was a complete set of the
I-400
s’ plans, meticulously drawn on wax-coated silk. The engineer had taken the plans when the war ended and kept them at his house for safe keeping. Since orders had been given to destroy the blueprints at the end of the war, the staff officer had not returned them to Self Defense headquarters in Tokyo. By an accident of history, the
I-400
s continue to live.
For the most part, however, the subs are considered a historical footnote. Their story is better known in Japan (where you can build
a nifty model of the
I-400
and a
Seiran
), but not by much. It mostly lives in the memories of the few surviving crew members, who are rapidly dying off. For the younger generation, World War II is about as relevant as the Hundred Years’ War. Most have never heard of the
I-400
s.
The moral of the story, that courage and perseverance are not enough, is difficult to absorb. The commitment of Ariizumi, Nambu, and the
Sen-toku
crew could not overcome the poor strategic and operational planning of the IJN High Command. Both the Allies and the Japanese believed theirs was a just cause, but it takes more than sentiment to win a war. Advanced technology, adaptive ability, production efficiencies, and superior logistics are also necessary for success.
That the
I-400
subs failed in their mission is less important than the fact that they got as far as they did, given the daunting obstacles they faced. In other words, the story of the
Sen-toku
subs is about determination in the face of overwhelming odds. Yes, the storm from a clear sky never materialized as predicted, but it wasn’t for want of trying.
*
The actual number of Japanese submarines at the beginning of World War II varies by source. Ito says that by December 1941, Japan had 64 submarines; see
The End of the Imperial Japanese Navy
, p. 155. Bagnasco confirms this number in
Submarines of World War II
, p. 176. Other accounts cite totals ranging between 60 and 63 submarines.
†
Once again it’s difficult to say with absolute certainty how many Japanese subs were lost during World War II because so many files were destroyed. For example, John D. Alden says 128 Japanese subs were lost; see
The Fleet Submarine in the U.S. Navy
, p. ix. According to Boyd and Yoshida,
Japanese Submarine Force and World War II
, “127 of about 160 large submarines in service during the war were lost” (p. xiii). The actual number makes little difference. Bottom line, by August 1945 the Sixth Fleet was virtually wiped out.
This project might never have happened if my editor at
Aviation History
magazine, Carl von Wodtke, hadn’t had the courage to green-light my story about the
I-400
subs and their
Seiran
aircraft. Still, a work of nonfiction is impossible to write without the cooperation of many people. Accordingly, I’d like to thank the following:
Martin Bennett; Dick Budzienny (in Australia); Tom and Lisa Cohen; Frits de Jong (in the Netherlands); Charles J. Doane; John W. Dower, Ford International Professor of [Japanese] History at MIT; David Dugan, Chairman of Windfall Films, Ltd.; George Gambel; Dr. Sara L. Gandy; Robert D. Hackett of
Combinedfleet.com
; Adam Hochschild at the Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism; Patrick Householder, national commander of United States Submarine Veterans, Inc.; Sander Kingsepp of
Combinedfleet.com
; Kevin Leonard of The Leonard Group; Robert C. Mikesh; Rich “Pete” Peterson, webmaster at
Segundo398.org
; Adm. (ret.) Maurice H. Rindskopf; Sam Saliba; Anna Saraceno and Eric Stange at Spy Pond Productions; Alan Tansman at the University of California, Berkeley; William Thibodeaux; and Norma Whitmire.
My mother, Margaret Geoghegan, offered me important moral and financial support throughout this project. Tom and Maggie Bedecarré generously provided me with a place to stay while I was completing the book; Toshiko Ozasayama believed in me despite my many failings; Hazuki Yoshino babysat and made travel arrangements; and Beth Geoghegan put me up for a month when I had no place else to go. Importantly, my brother, Michael Geoghegan, provided me with his love, support, and wisdom through every step of the process. I couldn’t have done it without him.
I also owe a special debt to my interviewer/researchers, Yayoi and Takuji Ozasayama, and to my translators: Marie Abe, Laura Keehn,
Reiko Konitzer, Robin Colomb Sugiura, Yumi Kijima, and Erika Römer. Special thanks also go to my readers Kirk Citron, who suffered an early draft; Norman Polmar, columnist for the U.S. Naval Institute; Professor Emeritus Carl Boyd, Old Dominion University; Oliver Mittermaier; Jonathan Parshall; Bob McLean; Emil Petrinic; and my
sensei
, Rear Adm. (ret.) Yoichi Hirama. Illustrator and photographer Emil Petrinic rendered an exceptionally fine map and cutaway diagram of the
I-400
sub, and shot the author photograph. Thanks also to Robert Hanshew, museum curator, Photographs at the Naval History and Heritage Command in Washington, D.C., for his assistance in selecting photographs for this book.
In Japan, I’d like to thank Ken Dota, who was a tremendous help tracking down people and setting up interviews, as well as Izumi Fuji; Toshio Ichiki; Junya Katsume; Tohru Kizu, editor in chief/director at
Ships of the World;
Hiro Nagashima; Tetsukuni Watanabe; and Nobutaka Nambu, for helping me to better understand his father’s long and distinguished life. I’d also like to thank Iroha-kai (Japan’s Submarine Veterans Association), the
Mikasa
Preservation Society, as well as the Japanese Naval Academy (Etajima) and both Togo and Yasukuni shrines.
The Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force was also helpful in assisting my research. I’d like to extend my heartfelt appreciation to Vice Adm. (ret.) Mitsunori Akeno; Rear Adm. Izuru Fukumoto, chief of staff and commandant of Kure District, JMSDF; Rear Adm. (ret.) Masao Ikemura, secretary general of Suikou Kai (Japan Naval Association); Capt. (ret.) Greg K. Kouta; Capt. Sanji Nyui, commander of Submarine Flotilla Two, Yokosuka, JMSDF; Capt. Tahiko Tanaka, commanding officer of the Submarine Training Center, JMSDF, Kure; and his senior staff officer.
Obviously, there would have been no book without the kindness and cooperation of the
Sen-toku
squadron’s officers and crew. I would like to thank the
I-401
’s captain, Nobukiyo Nambu, for his graciousness and candor. Additionally, Yoshio Andoh, Muneo Bando, Chin-Ji Inouye, and Tsugio Yata, all of the
I-401
, opened their homes and were extremely generous with their time and
patience in answering my questions. Atsushi Asamura and Heiji Kondo, both of the 631st air group, also spent significant time with me, for which I am grateful.
I also want to thank the
I-400
’s officers and crew for speaking with me, including Fukumaru Koshimoto, Shoici Matsutani, Izumi Fuji (daughter of Hidetoshi Namura), Masami Nariari, Kazuo Nishijima, Masao Okui, Sutejiro Shimazu, Haruo Sugiyama, and Kazuo Takatsu, as well as Chikanori Hatanaka of the 631st air group.
An equally hearty thanks is extended to the officers and crew of the USS
Segundo
(SS 398) for speaking with me, including: John Balson, Richard Binkley, Carlo Carlucci, Leon Crouse, Vic Horgan, Rod Johnson, Wallace Karnes, Jr., Harry McCartney, Robert O’Connor, Bud Quam, and Carl Stallcop. Many of their family members also deserve thanks, including Miriam Miller Balson, Mrs. Richard Binkley, Mike Carlucci, Suze Johnson Comerford, Lynne Fulp, Mary Lee Horgan, Nadia M. Johnson, Steve Johnson, Jr., Marge McCartney, Carolie McLaughlin, and Karen Pittman.