Zero

by Masatake Okumiya

  At staff conferences held in early May aboard the Yam­ato, we studied the gains and losses of both our fleet and that of the enemy, from the opening of the war until the close of the Coral Sea Battle. On December 8, 1941, at Pearl Harbor, our carrier-based planes sank or disabled the United States battleships Nevada, California, Arizona, West Virginia, Maryland, and Oklahoma, and heavily damaged the battleships Pennsylvania and Tennessee. We sent to the bottom the old target ship Utah, the cruiser Helena, and two destroyers. Several other vessels were heavily damaged, and the enemy suffered heavy damage to shore installations and the loss of many planes.

  On December 10, 1941, off Kuantan, our land-based bombers sank the British dreadnaughts Repulse and Prince of Wales.

  On February 4, 1942, in the sea north of Java, our land-based bombers heavily damaged the American heavy cruiser Houston and the light cruiser Marblehead.

  On the twenty-seventh of the same month, off Tjilatjap, Java, the seaplane tender Langley went to the bottom after an attack by land-based bombers. The following day our land-based bombers struck again, sinking the British heavy cruiser Exeter.

  Off Colombo on April 5, carrier-based bombers sank the British heavy cruisers Cornwall and Dorsetshire. Four days later, off Trincomalee, carrier-based bombers destroyed the first enemy aircraft carrier, the British Hermes.

  On May 8, in the Coral Sea Battle, carrier-based bombers sank the 33,000-ton American aircraft carrier Lexington, and heavily damaged the Yorktown, another American carrier.

  In the first six months of the war, therefore, our naval aviation alone had sunk two aircraft carriers and seriously damaged a third, sent to the bottom one seaplane tender, either sunk or heavily damaged ten battleships, destroyed four and heavily damaged two cruisers, and sunk ten destroyers.

  Conversely, our damages and losses from enemy air activities in warships the size of or larger than destroyers amounted only to three vessels sunk and one heavily damaged. On December 11, 1941, Grumman Wildcat fighter planes off Wake Island sank the destroyer Kisaragi. At Tulagi, on May 4, 1942, we lost the destroyer Kikuzuki. And on May 7, in the Coral Sea Battle, we lost the aircraft carrier Shoho. The following day the carrier Shokaku received heavy damage from American carrier planes.

  With the exception of the single submarine attack on January 11, 1942, in which the 33,000-ton aircraft carrier Saratoga was hit by torpedoes, approximately two hundred and fifty nautical miles northeast of Johnston, the only damage inflicted to enemy vessels by our warships occurred in the period between late February and early March of 1942. All engagements took place in the Java Sea, where our warships sank the Netherlands’ light cruis­ers De Ruyter and Java, the Australian light cruiser Perth, the American heavy cruiser Houston, and five destroyers of various countries.

  On the other hand, not a single Japanese warship lost during this period to enemy action other than air attack went down before the guns of enemy ships, as this listing shows:

  December 12, 1941:

  Destroyer Hayate sunk off Wake Island by enemy shore guns.

  December 18, 1941:

  Destroyer Shinonome sunk by mine explosion off Miri, Borneo.

  December 24, 1941:

  Destroyer Sagiri sunk off Kuching, Borneo, by torpedo attack of Netherlands submarine.

  February 8, 1942:

  Destroyer Natsushio sunk off Makassar, Celebes, by tor­pedo attack of United States submarine.

  May 3, 1942:

  Seaplane tender Mizuho sunk off southern coast of Japan proper by torpedo attack of United States submarine.

  May 11, 1942:

  Mine layer Okinoshima sunk off Rabaul by torpedo attack of United States submarine.

  Compared to the losses sustained by the Allied powers in the Pacific, therefore, we suffered very lightly, indeed. The tally of enemy and Japanese ships lost in the first six months of the war was a literal realization of the Navy’s concept of “ideal combat conditions,” to “wage a decisive sea battle only under air control.” For the ten years prior to the Pacific War we had trained our airmen implicitly to believe that sea battles fought under our command of the air could result only in our victories. The initial phases of the Pacific War dramatically upheld this belief.

  War, however, is a vast drama in which it is often impossible to predict the morrow through “logic” alone. The chain of events established by previous combat engagements may be altered completely in a few short hours. Despite exhaustive planning and preparation prior to any battle, only the gods know what course that battle will take. It appears that in any conflict in which great numbers of men and machines are pitted against one another, some force beyond that exercised by man is responsible for the final decision. While the course of the Pacific War for its first six months became a parade of bril­liant Japanese victories, no sensible man could honestly believe that an abrupt change was not in store for our country.

  In the immense arena of the Pacific War, Japan could realize a final victory only through rapid and powerful blows against the forces of the United States and Great Britain. To accomplish our aims with our limited industrial resources, we had to strike quickly, to throw off balance an enemy of great industrial might before that enemy could bring to bear upon us the full weight of its military strength. No Japanese military student possessing any basic knowledge of military logistics could fail to foresee ultimate defeat for our nation in a prolonged war.

  We who were informed of the true status of the eco­nomic-industrial strength of America and England as compared to that of Japan knew that our nation could emerge victorious from this war not merely through mil­itary gains but more probably as the result of military-political-diplomatic actions. It was imperative that we attain and consolidate initial gains, for eventually we would meet in the far reaches of the Pacific an avalanche of Allied military power.

  Those people cognizant of this situation expected the government, as it had done in the Sino-Japanese and the Russo-Japanese wars, soon to resort to diplomatic negotia­tions at a time most advantageous to Japan. To prolong the war was only to allow America’s factories the time necessary to overwhelm completely our own military strength. International diplomacy as conducted from a perspective wider than merely that of the geographical boundaries of Pacific-Asiatic combat was the only means through which we could benefit from the Pacific War. Japan did not pos­sess the military-industrial-economic strength necessary to conclude successfully a purely military struggle against the United States and Great Britain.

  Unfortunately, the vital requirements for international diplomatic negotiations never were achieved. The military heirarchy disastrously decided to continue the war strictly on a military basis.

  Once committed to total conflict, positive aggressive action is the only means by which to hasten the conclusion of a war. On the theory that only by continued strikes against the enemy could Japan either expand or securely maintain her victories gained in the war’s initial six months, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, Commander in Chief of the Combined Fleet, planned to attack American forces at Midway Island and in the Aleutians chain in a single, concerted mass sweep. The “Midway and Aleutian Opera­tions,” as we designated the assault, would be undertaken early in June of 1942 as the first step of the Second Stage Operations.

  The series of major actions which emerged from this widespread campaign brought disastrous results to our Navy; especially in the Battle of Midway, where our fleet suffered a devastating defeat. So severe were the conse­quences of this great fleet engagement that in a single stroke Japan’s favorable position in Pacific Ocean air-sea combat was altered. The Battle of Midway was the pivotal point of the Pacific War. In a single day we lost four aircraft carriers, as well as their aircraft complement, and the irreplaceable combat-veteran crews. Our defeat stemmed directly from our Navy Air Force’s loss in air superiority, both on a qualitative and a quantitative basis.

  We had two specific objectives in mind for the Midway and Aleutian Operations. By invading and occupy
ing Midway Island, we would extend greatly to the east our warship and bomber patrol lines, while the occupation of Kiska and Attu islands in the western end of the Aleutians island chain would prevent United States task forces in the far north from attacking the Japanese mainland.

  These island occupations constituted the campaign’s initial phase. The second was to draw out the remainder of the United States Pacific fleet, and to hasten the end of the war by destroying that fleet. The Americans could not allow our eastward and northward thrusts to go unop­posed; their fleet would feel compelled to oppose our attacking forces with every last plane and ship. Admiral Yamamoto, by forcing this showdown, would determine to a large extent the final outcome of the Pacific War. With Midway Island in our hands, we would have a powerful forward base from which to extend further the aggressive actions of our ships and planes.

  Admiral Yamamoto assembled a tremendous striking force for his attack. His total naval strength for the com­bined operation included 350 vessels of all types, which exceeded a total of a million five hundred thousand tons. For an all-out aerial assault against the Americans he gathered more than one thousand warplanes; more than one hundred thousand officers and men manned his ships and planes.

  Our attacking fleet dwarfed in numbers and offensive strength any previous assembly of ships, planes, and men. Not only did we enjoy great numerical strength, but we had a further advantage in that the handling and combat quality of the men and the planes aboard the aircraft carriers Kaga, Akagi, Hiryu, and Soryu were superior to those of any comparable enemy group. These battle-tested veterans, outstanding in their flying skill, went into the attack under the brilliant command of Vice-Admiral Chuichi Nagumo, who had devastated Pearl Harbor and wrought a path of destruction across the Pacific. The crews and pilots of the four carriers actually looked down upon the other two car­riers under Nagumo, the Shokaku and the Zuikaku, which had participated (rather ineffectively, in the opinion of Nagumo’s other veterans) in the Coral Sea Battle.

  For some reason, through a series of incredible blunders on the part of our fleet, we threw away this priceless advantage. Our Navy committed so many inexcusable errors in the battle commencing on June 5 that we have often wondered if the gods of war had determined beforehand the outcome of the conflict! Through the courageous, yet costly, attacks by the American land- and carrier-based warplanes, and also the enemy submarines, the Nagumo Force was completely defeated, compelling Admiral Yamamoto to withdraw his battered fleet without attaining even a part of his original objectives at Midway.

  The attack commenced at 1:45 A.M. on June 5, 1942. Under the command of Lieutenant Joichi Tomonaga of the Hiryu, thirty-six Zero fighters, thirty-six Type 99 Val dive bombers, and thirty-six Type 97 Kate attack bombers took off from four carriers. These planes directed their attacks against important ground facilities on Midway Island. We expected heavy resistance and posed great confidence in the ability of the Zeros to protect their bombers, no easy task when thirty-six fighter planes must escort twice their number in bombers. Approximately thirty nautical miles from Midway Island more than thirty enemy fighter planes jumped our formations, starting a running air fight which continued to directly over the island.

  Under the leadership of Lieutenant Masaharu Sug­anami, the Zeros managed to prevent the enemy fighter planes from seriously interfering with the bombing attacks. The Nagumo Force’s official combat report of this particu­lar raid reveals that we lost two Kates, one Val, and two Zero fighters, and that it was believed that these planes were destroyed by the fierce enemy antiaircraft fire.

  In his postattack intelligence briefing, Lieutenant Tomonaga reported that his fighters and bombers shot down forty enemy fighters, one light bomber, and one seaplane in their attack against Midway Island. Intelligence reduced this number appreciably, for it was obvious that “double counting” by our pilots was responsible for the unusually high number of enemy losses reported. (Postwar investigation of this particular battle with officers of the U.S. Navy Section of the Strategic Bombing Survey revealed that twenty Brewster F2A Buffaloes and seven Grumman F4F Wildcats attacked Tomonaga’s force. Of these, seventeen were shot down, including the fighter commander, Major Parks. Seven other enemy fighters sustained heavy damage, and most of the surviving pilots were injured.)

  The Zero fighters defending our carriers set up against the first wave of Midway-based enemy torpedo bombers an almost impenetrable wall of fire. More than sixty torpedo bombers raced in at low altitude to attack Nagumo’s carri­ers. The American pilots pressed home their attacks with great courage, but their lumbering aircraft fell easy prey to the Zeros and the fleet’s defending gunfire. The initial enemy attack became a massacre, as almost all of the American planes fell flaming into the ocean. Not a single torpedo struck our ships.

  Our fleet waited apprehensively for the second attack (which came this time from large carrier-based enemy for­mations). They did not have long to wait, and the Zeros slashed into the enemy planes, disrupting formations and scattering the bombers. Even as the second enemy wave battled fiercely to break through the defending cordon of Zero fighters, keeping our planes occupied near the water’s surface, large numbers of American dive bombers suddenly appeared on the scene. It was the beginning of the end, for our fleet was caught completely unaware by this sudden assault.

  Almost unopposed, the enemy bombers plunged in ver­tical dives from above the clouds. Our carriers were helpless. Bomb after bomb smashed into our ships’ vitals, flooding compartments, destroying gun-control systems, knocking out fire-fighting apparatus, setting aflame gaso­line and oil tanks. Within an hour of the attack, the Akagi, Kaga, and Soryu were crippled hulks in sinking condition. Several hours later the three great ships went down. Nagumo had suffered a grievous blow, for in this single dive-bombing attack the Americans had reduced by more than half his available fighter and bomber strength.

  With the first battle phase completed, and with our fleet reeling from its severe losses, we launched an attack against the American carriers. Eighteen Type 99 Val dive bombers and six Zero fighters left Rear Admiral Tamon Yamagushi’s flagship Hiryu, the only carrier to escape the enemy’s bombs. Led by Lieutenant Michio Kobayashi, the eighteen bombers dove through a hail of antiaircraft fire and defending enemy fighter planes to score more than three direct hits on the Yorktown.

  Soon after Kobayashi left the Hiryu, Lieutenant Tomon­aga led ten Type 97 Kate torpedo bombers and six Zero fighters in search of a second American carrier. Again our planes encountered fierce resistance, but our returning pilots reported that they had sent two torpedoes directly into the big warship. Rear Admiral Yamaguchi felt relieved, for now his planes had heavily damaged two enemy carri­ers. (We later discovered that actually we had twice attacked the Yorktown, not a second carrier as originally believed.)

  Yamaguchi did not have long to enjoy the news of the attack for, shortly afterward, enemy carrier-based bombers found the Hiryu. The rain of bombs crippled the flagship in short order and, like her sister ships, soon the Hiryu became a helpless hulk, wracked with flaming explosions and abandoned by her crew.

  This may appear paradoxical, but in my estimate I feel that the Hiryu’s air group had been superior in combat to its American carrier-based counterparts. Many factors which are not apparent to the uninformed observer influ­ence a battle’s final outcome; in the vast Midway conflict the Americans had a definite advantage in that their carri­ers were equipped with radar, enabling them to receive out-of-sight advance warning of air attacks, while our own vessels lacked this priceless equipment. Every Japanese aircraft committed to the attack against enemy surface ships and the installations at Midway Island performed admirably. Despite the staggering loss of our carriers, there still remained no doubt that the Zero fighter exceeded in performance any of the American planes which it contested. Our Val dive bombers and Kate torpedo bombers were at the time two of the world’s best aircraft for their respective missions.

  There was little to criticize
in the performance and courage of our air-crew members under fire. Every man did his utmost to press home the attacks against the American warships, particularly Lieutenant Joichi Tomonaga, who on his final mission took off from his carrier with the knowl­edge that he could not possibly return. With three of our carriers already lost, it was imperative that we either cripple or sink the enemy aircraft carriers. Tomonaga took off in his final attack with only his right wing tank containing fuel; enemy bullets had holed the left tank over Midway. This outstanding officer would not let his aircraft remain idle while his fellow pilots flew into combat. This action, similiar to that of Flight Warrant Officer Kanno in the Coral Sea Battle, did much to uphold the morale of our men in the face of terrible losses.

  Despite the determination and courage of our men, and the high performance of our airplanes, the American aircraft overwhelmed our best defenses. No one could have foreseen the effectiveness of their courageous attacks; their tenacity brought the Battle of Midway to a tragic end. The loss of the four aircraft carriers, the Akagi, Kaga, Hiryu, and Soryu, shocked the Japanese people. We could not underestimate the gravity of our defeat, for these four car­riers had played the major role in the Navy’s smashing vic­tories across the breadth of the entire Pacific. An even greater blow, however, was the loss of the irreplaceable veteran air crews and the skilled maintenance crews which went down with their ships.

  Even as we reeled from the debacle of Midway, another event occurred far to the north which, although lacking the drama of open conflict, was no less serious. In the Aleu­tians, one of our Zero fighters made a forced landing and was captured almost intact by the Americans. The subse­quent detailed study of the airplane revealed fully to the Americans the Zero’s advantages and faults. With the airplane’s every characteristic an open book to the enemy engineers, they could quickly assure their own qualitative superiority.