War Stories II (6 page)

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Authors: Oliver L. North

BOOK: War Stories II
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A little more than an hour after the USS
Ward
sank a sub outside the anchorage, the USS
Curtiss
, a seaplane tender, and an auxiliary ship, the USS
Medusa
, also sighted one of the midget subs—this time
inside
Pearl Harbor. They immediately sent messages to the USS
Monaghan,
a destroyer that had just gotten under way. But as the
Monaghan
got up steam to race toward the new contact, the sky was suddenly filled with planes and all hell broke loose around them.
As Japanese aircraft dropped bombs and torpedoes, strafing the American airfields, barracks, and fleet, only one SPS midget sub penetrated the harbor. It launched a torpedo at the
Curtiss
, which by now had also been severely damaged after a Japanese plane had crashed into it. Despite fighting fires inside her hull and defending against other aircraft, the crew of the tender replied to the torpedo attack with a salvo of gunfire that scored a direct hit on the sub's conning tower.
The underwater missile intended for the tender missed and struck a dock at Pearl City. But the torpedo's wake alerted lookouts on the USS
Monaghan
. With anti-aircraft guns blazing at swarming Zeros, the destroyer, belching black smoke to hide it from the aerial attack, charged at the minisub, which then fired its second torpedo at the bow of the oncoming American vessel. The shot went wide, and seconds later, the
Monaghan
rammed the sub at high speed, crumpling its stern like a discarded cigarette. For good measure, before clearing the blazing harbor, the
Monaghan
dropped depth charges on the damaged sub. She sank quickly into the mud at the bottom of the anchorage.
By the time Commander Fuchida's second wave of aircraft reached Pearl Harbor, the
Monaghan
had joined the
Ward
and several other U.S. combatants—including the cruisers
Phoenix
,
St. Louis
, and
Detroit
, and destroyers
Tucker
,
Bagley
,
Dale
,
Henley
, and
Phelps
—outside the anchorage. There they joined in the attack on two other SPS midget submersibles—one of which was detected and believed sunk by depth charges after it fired its torpedoes at the USS
St. Louis.
Though never confirmed, a fourth midget sub was initially presumed to have been sunk about a mile outside the harbor during one of several depth charge attacks by American destroyers that ensued during the afternoon of 7 December and the morning of the following day.
Yamamoto's misgivings about the SPS attack were proving to be well founded. But for one of the midget sub skippers, Ensign Kazuo Sakamaki, the attack would prove to be the most ignominious event of his life.
ENSIGN KAZUO SAKAMAKI
Aboard SPS I-24
TOU
Oahu, Hawaii
8 December 1941
We were under severe orders to keep our mission secret, so we couldn't surface or make any noise. Two destroyers were working the area, patrolling. When I approached, they dropped many depth charges. I tried again to pass the patrol and get into the harbor. We were instructed to try to get past the anti-submarine net, and even cut the net if necessary to get into the harbor.
We rushed the net and cut the wire mesh, trying to enter so we could get to our rendezvous point inside, but it was so hard, impossible to make a good course because my gyrocompass did not work. Then we got caught on the reef. We tried for four hours to try and get moving, but could not.
The next day, 8 December , just before dawn, we emptied the ballast tanks. I ordered my crewman to abandon ship. At that time, both of us were overwhelmed by the bad air inside the submarine.
Before I knew it I was floating in the sea, hurt. I cannot be sure, but maybe when we jumped into the water we got injured on the coral. I don't know. Waves—big waves—pushed me to the island, in front of the American airfield.
I was unconscious . . . and remembered nothing. I was captured.
By the night of 7 December, the sole surviving midget sub, piloted by Ensign Sakamaki, was in dire straits. Its gyrocompass inoperable and
batteries nearly depleted, the sub drifted east until it ran aground on a coral reef off Bellows Field late that night. Sakamaki and his junior officer, Inagaki, were forced to abandon ship. Before doing so, they set a detonator on an explosive device to keep their sub from falling into American hands. Then they swam for the shore, fewer than a hundred yards from where the sub ran aground. Unfortunately for the hapless Sakamaki, the explosive charge failed to work as advertised and the sub did not self-destruct and sink. Worse still, Inagaki either drowned or committed suicide, and the exhausted Sakamaki, injured from the coral and sick from the poisonous fumes that had filled the submarine, barely made it ashore, where he finally collapsed, unconscious.
The next thing he recalls is a Colt .45 automatic pistol being held against his head by an American soldier, yelling at him in English to get up. The soldier holding the pistol was Corporal Akui of the Hawaii National Guard. He had just made Ensign Kazuo Sakamaki, Imperial Navy, the first Japanese prisoner of war.
SECOND LIEUTENANT STEVE WEINER, US ARMY
Bellows Field Communications Shack
Pearl Harbor
7–8 December 1941
Early Sunday morning, just as the attack began, there was a four-engine plane that buzzed our field. Now, Bellows Field is just a short strip, used for gunnery practice for P-40 fighter planes. And when this plane passed over, we thought it was the Navy, but they didn't have four-engine planes. Moments later, there was a crash. A B-17 trying to land on our strip had overrun our runway and crashed into the ditch at the far end. Those of us that were in the BOQ [Bachelor Officers' Quarters] got dressed quickly, ran down to the plane, and found that the crew was semi-hysterical. They had been shot up—some of them were bleeding, and you could see where the plane had been shot at.
We asked them, “What do you mean, you were attacked? Who attacked you?”
And while we were trying to make sense of the situation, a flight of Japanese fighter planes came in and started strafing us, and we all ran for cover. I ran to the operations shack, where there was a space between the floor and the ground. I stayed there until the attackers left.
After the attack, the armory was opened. None of us had carried arms before, but now we could take whatever we wanted. We each took .45s and M1 rifles, but there was no loose ammunition for the rifles. All they had were bandoliers for the .30-caliber machine guns, but the shells fit the rifles. So we wrapped bandoliers around us.
We were advised to pair off, dig a foxhole, and be prepared for hand-to-hand combat. By late afternoon I paired off with a young pilot from Texas. He was greener than me, and neither of us had ever fired a gun. So it starts to rain, and it was a miserable time, and we're sitting commiserating with each other—how it might be our last day on earth. He was sitting on my right, and because it was raining he took out his handkerchief to wipe his rifle, and he fired it across my lap. And I almost became a Pearl Harbor Purple Heart recipient on the first day of the war!
Later, after dark, we were sitting in the foxhole, and we saw two figures walking toward us from the ocean, about a hundred yards from where we were. When they got close enough, we saw that one was Corporal Akui, who had been stationed at the end of the runway. He was a member of the Hawaiian National Guard, leading a prisoner who was nude, with the exception of a loincloth. The corporal turned him over to us.
I asked, “Where did you get him?”
Corporal Akui said, “He walked right out of the water.”
I think he was happy to turn him over to us. We, in turn, were looking to turn him over to a higher authority, so we took him to the operations shack. We sat him down and could see that he had been in the water for a number of hours. His skin was all wrinkled and he looked distressed, so we put a blanket around his shoulders and gave him some water and crackers. We tried to get some intelligence but he was defiant. He just
looked from one face to the other, and we realized that we weren't getting anywhere with him. We decided that two young second lieutenants with no experience in interrogation weren't likely to get this guy to talk.
After an hour of attempted interrogation we realized we weren't getting anywhere. We didn't know who he was or where he came from and kept hoping that a senior officer would show up and take him off our hands.
Then, all of a sudden, after about two hours of just sitting there, the prisoner finally spoke. In crude English he asked for a paper and pencil. He wrote, “I Japanese Naval Officer. My ship catch on coral. I jump in water, swim to this airplane landing. I no tell about ships. Kill me in an honorable way.” And he signed his name, Kazuo Sakamaki.
Well, early Monday morning, we see a conning tower sticking up, about a hundred, or a hundred and fifty yards offshore. We couldn't get very close—we were on shore—this was still in the water, and it wasn't accessible. I don't know who arranged it, but somebody from the base swam out to the sub with a towline, and with a jeep we pulled it in. We also found the body of an enlisted Japanese sailor. It washed ashore later that morning. Never in our wildest dreams did we think that we'd be attacked by midget submarines.

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