Fortress Rabaul: The Battle for the Southwest Pacific, January 1942-April 1943

by Bruce Gamble

  The next day, while the funeral procession moved through the streets of Tokyo to Hibiya Park, Prime Minister Hideki Tojo gave a public address praising Yamamoto’s career. An urn containing Yamamoto’s ashes rode atop a gun carriage pulled by sixteen Musashi sailors, part of a long procession that included military bands playing traditional dirges. At the front, priests held aloft a banner that reached two stories high, its kanji characters proclaiming, “The Urn of Fleet Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, Bearer of the Grand Order and the First Order of the Golden Kite.”

  At precisely 1050, virtually every person in Japan stopped whatever he or she was doing and offered a silent prayer for Yamamoto while bowing in the direction of Tokyo. And the ceremonies continued long after the burial, as tens of thousands of Japanese filed past Yamamoto’s shrine to pay their last respects. Numerous public tributes followed, none more unique than the song commissioned by the Mainichi newspaper group. On the day of the funeral, the company announced that Atsuo Oki, a well-known poet, had been commissioned to write the lyrics for a “people’s song” about the greatest admiral in Japanese history. The music was composed by the Imperial Navy band, resulting in a lofty tribute to the man who had led, albeit reluctantly, his people into war.

  “Fleet Admiral Yamamoto”

  Ah! Amidst the battle in the South Seas

  Gloriously died the admiral in the sky, like a private

  While commanding his force at the head.

  Who says that thousands upon thousands are killed

  When an admiral is accredited with victory?

  No sooner had the Greater East Asia War broken out

  Than Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto

  Destroyed the foe beyond recognition

  Taking the helm of the Grand Fleet

  In obeyance to the Imperial Command.

  With peerless courage and masterly strategy

  Did he defeat the enemy navies instantly

  At Pearl Harbor and off Malai;

  Off the Solomons and in the Coral Sea.

  Numberless are the brilliant naval war results!

  From the southern end to the northern extremity

  Rose victorious cries everywhere.

  Heaven admired the admiral’s valor,

  Seven Seas revered his dignity

  As he commanded the Imperial Navy.

  Iron resolve to go to the furthest front

  Never to return again

  Was manifest in his poems.

  Let us follow in the footsteps of the noble admiral

  Who assumed the weighty responsibility without argument.

  If nothing else, Oki’s song gave the Japanese people a lyrical vehicle, indeed a hymn, by which they could honor the spirit of their newest deity. Many, it is certain, pondered what might have been. Yamamoto was the ideal hero. Complex, sensitive, artistic, he was descended from samurai, which made his final flight aboard a warplane all the more worthy of a warrior god.

  YAMAMOTO’S DEMISE not only represented a crucial turning point for the Japanese, it coincided with a fundamental shift in American strategy. General Kenney’s trip to Washington, D.C., in March had been part of the prelude to that shift, as he and several other high-ranking officers from MacArthur’s and Halsey’s staffs attended a high-level conference with the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  Prior to the conference, which opened on March 12, 1943, Halsey and MacArthur had hammered out an agreement regarding their responsibilities for implementing the Elkton Plan. The details were then presented to the Joint Chiefs by Brigadier General Sutherland, and for this reason alone the conference proved its worth. Heretofore the Joint Chiefs had optimistically believed that Rabaul could be captured by the end of 1943, but the representatives from the Pacific Theater revealed the flaws in such wishful thinking. MacArthur estimated that, in addition to the multinational forces already under his command, he would need five infantry divisions, 1,800 planes, and a considerable navy before he could begin the first objective of Elkton, the seizure of Lae. Naturally the Joint Chiefs wanted the theater commanders to accomplish more with less, but the latter had formed a strong alliance—and the navy delegates in Washington sided with them as well.

  After several days of wrangling, the attendees got no further than to define what everyone disagreed about. The solution was left to the Joint Chiefs, who would have to decide among themselves how much war materiel could be diverted to the Pacific. At first they continued to hope that Rabaul could be taken in 1943, but eventually they conceded that the objectives for the year would have to be scaled back. Even so, MacArthur was promised a minimum of six army air groups and two infantry divisions. It was considerably less than he’d requested, but when the assets that already existed were combined with the promised allotments (including those earmarked for Halsey), the Allies could expect to accumulate some 2,500 planes in the South Pacific and Southwest Pacific theaters. It was a staggering number of aircraft, many of which would eventually be used against Rabaul.

  On March 28, only a few weeks before Yamamoto’s death, the Joint Chiefs released a new directive titled “Offensive Operations in the South and Southwest Pacific Areas During 1943.” Consisting of three main objectives, it was based on the Elkton Plan initially proposed by MacArthur, with input from Halsey:

  1. Establish airfields on Kiriwina and Woodlark Islands.

  2. Seize the Lae-Salamaua-Finschhafen-Madang area and occupy western New Britain.

  3. Seize and occupy Solomon Islands to include the southern portion of Bougainville.

  The stated purpose of the objectives was to pave the way for “the seizure of the Bismarck Archipelago,” which meant that every operation was ultimately focused on Rabaul. Within a few months, however, the plan underwent a major revision. The Joint Chiefs determined that it would not be necessary to physically invade Rabaul. Instead, Japan’s greatest stronghold would be neutralized by air power. Calling the new plan Operation Cartwheel, the Joint Chiefs remained optimistic that Rabaul would be smashed by the end of 1943.

  But as hundreds of Allied and Japanese airmen would learn, many at the cost of their lives, the strategists were wrong.

  The first attack on Rabaul was made by Navy Type 96 land attack aircraft (Mitsubishi G3M “Nells”) from Truk on January 4, 1942. Although nearly obsolete by Japanese standards, the bombers were untouched by Australian antiaircraft guns or interceptors. Ron Werneth

  The only “fighters” in the RAAF inventory at the beginning of the war were CAC-1 Wirraways, copied from the North American AT-6 trainer with a few minor improvements. During the hopeless defense of Rabaul, 24 Squadron lost eight out of ten Wirraways. Australian War Memorial

  A Type 99 carrier bomber (Aichi D3A “Val”) from Shokaku approaches Rabaul on January 20, 1942. The attack that day by more than one hundred carrier-based planes knocked 24 Squadron out of commission. A follow-up raid two days later destroyed the Australian coastal defense guns. Maru

  A Type 97 carrier attack aircraft (Nakajima B-5N “Kate”) was shot down by the militia antiaircraft battery on January 20 and crashed on the slopes of a nearby volcano. The Aussie gunners also damaged several attackers; two were ditched at sea and a third crashed while attempting to land on its carrier. Ron Werneth

  Wing Commander John Lerew, who led poorly equipped 24 Squadron at Rabaul, found his superiors only slightly less troublesome than the Japanese. He routinely sent messages laced with sarcasm, but his courage in battle was unmatched. Josephine Lerew via Lex McAulay

  The first American raid on Rabaul was conducted February 22-23, 1942, by B-17 Flying Fortresses of the 14th Reconnaissance Squadron, temporarily assigned to the U.S. Navy. The author’s uncle, Lt. John Steinbinder, flew forty-three combat missions as a navigator in the squadron (later redesignated the 435th RS), including a dozen missions over Rabaul. Margaret Gamble Steinbinder

  Workhorse of the RAAF, the Catalina flying boat was slow and ungainly but could carry 4,000 pounds of bombs over great distances. Less than twenty-four hours after Raba
ul fell, Catalinas of 11 and 20 Squadrons made the first of many night raids on Simpson Harbor. Michael Claringbould

  Fast and well armed, the Navy Type 1 land attack aircraft (Mitsubishi G4M “Betty”) saw action throughout the Pacific. In combat the Betty caught fire easily, and the units at Rabaul suffered devastating losses. Elements of Air Group 705 are pictured here over Simpson Harbor in 1943. Maru

  Long stretches of boredom were common during reconnaissance flights and even attack missions, which took many hours to complete. Here, the starboard-side gunner in a Betty uses chopsticks to eat a boxed “aero lunch” while keeping watch on the world outside. Osaka Mainichi

  When two waves of Bettys attacked the USS Lexington task force almost four hundred miles from Rabaul on February 20, 1942, Lt. Edward “Butch” O’Hare singlehandedly thwarted the second wave, earning the Pacific war’s first Medal of Honor. He is pictured (left) shaking hands with his CO and mentor, Lt. Cmdr. John “Jimmy” Thach, in front of an F4F Wildcat. National Archives

  Dead heroes. Commander Takuzo Ito (top, left) directed the 4th Air Group’s attack on Lexington. After O’Hare damaged his bomber, Ito and his crew died in a failed attempt to crash into the carrier. Also aboard the plane was Lt. Cmdr. Yogoro Seto (top, right). A separate suicidal ramming attempt by Lt. Cmdr. Masayoshi Nakagawa (bottom, left) likewise failed to hit the ship. The Betty piloted by Lt. Akira Mitani (bottom, right) fell in flames to O’Hare’s guns. Osaka Mainichi

  With its two outboard engines idling, a B-17E of the 19th Bomb Group waits to taxi while P-39 Airacobra fighters take off from Seven Mile airdrome in mid-1942. Throughout the war, Port Moresby served as the primary staging base for Allied air groups in the Southwest Pacific. Michael Claringbould

  Fighter pilots of RAAF 75 Squadron wear a casual assortment of combat gear. For a critical span of forty-four days, the lone squadron held off relentless Japanese attacks against Port Moresby. In the process, virtually all of their Kittyhawk fighters were destroyed or put out of commission. David Wilson

  Allied antiaircraft guns were sparse at Port Moresby during the early months of the war. Eventually, large-bore guns, such as this 3-inch weapon of the 94th Coastal Artillery, were installed in protected emplacements to defend against Japanese bombers. MacArthur Memorial

  Built for speed, the streamlined B-26 featured the most powerful radial engines then available. This Marauder of the 22nd Bomb Group was photographed at Townsville, Queensland, in the spring of 1942, when American planes wore highly visible red and white rudder stripes. Michael Claringbould

  The combat debut of both the B-25 Mitchell and the B-26 Marauder took place in the Southwest Pacific on April 6, 1942. Here, a sleek Marauder of the 22nd Bomb Group has just bombed the Japanese airdrome at Lae on the coast of New Guinea. MacArthur Memorial

  A Model 21 Zero (A6M2) of the Tainan Air Group is being warmed up at Lakunai airdrome in mid-1942. With a roster of aggressive aces, Japan’s most famous fighter unit destroyed dozens of Allied aircraft in the air and on the ground. Hajime Yoshida

  Maintenance on a Model 21 Zero is performed in the shadow of Tavurvur volcano, which belches smoke across Matupit Harbor from Lakunai airdrome. Note the perfunctory application of palm-frond camouflage. Henry Sakaida

  A primitive hangar at Lakunai shows evidence of blast damage from Allied attacks. Curiously, the Zero parked inside is heavily camouflaged with palm fronds, but there are no trees anywhere nearby. Henry Sakaida

  Flight Petty Officer Saburo Sakai, his face bloody and swollen, is surrounded by members of the Tainan Air Group at Lakunai on August 8, 1942. Partially paralyzed and blinded in one eye, he completed a 650-mile flight from Guadalcanal after a machine-gun bullet creased his skull. Henry Sakaida

  When his regular bomber suffered an engine failure on the eve of a big mission to Rabaul, Capt. Harl Pease Jr. and his crew took a worn-out B-17E instead. Shot down over New Britain on August 7, 1942, Pease was posthumously awarded a Medal of Honor. MacArthur Memorial

  High-altitude bombing rarely succeeded against ships. Kenney’s former aide, Maj. William Benn, perfected skip-bombing tactics with B-17s of the 63rd Bomb Squadron. The missions, usually conducted on moonlit nights, achieved far better results. Author’s Collection

  After the war it was learned that Pease and one of his crewmen had bailed out and were taken prisoner. Two months later, Warrant Officer Minoru Yoshimura of the 81st Naval Garrison Unit oversaw the execution of Pease and seven other captives, who were bayoneted at the edge of a common grave. Australian War Memorial

  Head of V Bomber Command during the second half of 1942, Brig. Gen. Kenneth Walker was one of the army’s top proponents of high-altitude daylight strategic bombing. His convictions were often at odds with the low-level tactics favored by General Kenney, who also preferred night attacks against heavily defended Rabaul. Douglas Walker

  Ordnance men prepare to “bomb up” Yankee Doodle Dandy, a B-24 Liberator of the 90th Bomb Group (Heavy) in a revetment at Port Moresby. The group’s early combat history was marred by bad luck, with an inordinate number of accidents and non-combat-related losses. 90th Bomb Group Association

  Blazing tropical heat, poor living conditions, and combat stress put a big strain on morale. But the top American airman in the Southwest Pacific, the diminutive Gen. George Kenney, awarded hundreds of medals to inspire his men. James Harcrow

  Kenney also instigated a system to give combat crews a week’s relaxation in Australian cities. This cartoon pokes fun at the crew of a B-17 that has just returned from R&R in Sydney—with the men in worse shape than before. 43rd Bomb Group Association

  Major Paul “Pappy” Gunn, a salty, self-taught mechanical genius, reworked underperforming twin-engine bombers like the Douglas A-20 and North American B-25 into extremely potent low-level attackers that devastated Japanese shipping. Larry Hickey

  On January 5, 1943, against Kenney’s orders, Walker led twelve bombers to Rabaul in broad daylight. His B-17F, San Antonio Rose, was photographed mere hours before Japanese fighters shot it down. The crew was never recovered, and Walker received a Medal of Honor. Justin Taylan

  A large stockpile of fuel goes up in flames after a raid on Port Moresby during Operation I-Go. Although the blaze was spectacular, the collective damage caused by Yamamoto’s last offensive was relatively light and failed to make an impact on the Allies. Author’s Collection

  Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto (center), commander of the Combined Fleet, transferred his headquarters to Rabaul in early April 1943 for Operation I-Go. He and his staff, including Vice Adm. Matome Ugaki (right), honored the aircrews by observing the departure of each attack. Henry Sakaida

  Yamamoto informally salutes a Zero fighter taking off from Lakunai airdrome. Henry Sakaida

  Epilogue

  THE SOUTHERN OFFENSIVE stunned the world in December 1941. And yet, by April of 1943, just sixteen months after the fighting began, the Japanese had lost all chance of winning the Pacific war. The death of Admiral Yamamoto punctuated a series of extremely costly defeats, and the registry at the Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo (the national Shinto temple for war dead), was filling by the tens of thousands with the names of the sailors, soldiers, and airmen who had already given their lives for the emperor.

  Although the tide had turned in favor of the Allies, the mood at Imperial General Headquarters was relatively calm. The desired expansion of the Southeast Area had not progressed as planned, but there was still Rabaul. The fortress was bigger than ever—stronger too, despite more than a year of Allied bombing. Expansion continued during 1943, with two more airdromes in operation and a fifth under construction. The number of troops, warplanes, and ships would also increase throughout most of the year.

  In the Home Islands, Rabaul had become a fixture in popular culture. Japanese youth enjoyed listening to a trendy new song that romanticized the South Seas fortress. “Rabaul My Love,” recorded in 1942, evoked images of warm nights, tropical breezes, and even romance:

  So long, Rabau
l, ’til we return

  Bidding farewell with teary eyes

  Gazing at the island where my love resides

  Forevermore the Southern Cross.

  Rabaul was even more legendary among the Allies. The exploits of Butch O’Hare, Harl Pease, and Ken Walker were widely publicized, and the stronghold was mentioned frequently in the war news at home. Due in large measure to the cost of the Walker mission, the Fifth Air Force discontinued daylight attacks against Rabaul for months, resorting instead to small-scale night raids. However, the cumulative effect of such raids amounted to little more than harassment. The Japanese were unimpeded as they continued to make improvements and establish stronger defenses around the great caldera.

  The difference-maker in the Pacific war was the output of America’s factories. The pipelines were just beginning to flow in April 1943, and the volume of war materiel sent to the Pacific increased steadily thereafter until the full measure of American manufacturing capability came on line. Then it was the Allies’ turn to gather overwhelming strength as they prepared to launch Operation Cartwheel. The United States and her allies had the luxury of time on their side, while the Japanese remained in a strictly defensive posture, hoarding resources and struggling to provide enough men and materiel to hold their current positions.

  Although the Japanese fanatically defended each of their bases in the Solomons and New Guinea, the perimeter around Rabaul collapsed island by bloody island. With each Allied gain, the size and intensity of the air attacks on Rabaul increased. Daylight raids resumed in October 1943, when P-38 Lightnings and B-25 Mitchells flying from forward bases in New Guinea joined the heavy bombers over the target. The following month, Admiral Halsey ordered two daring carrier raids against Simpson Harbor to cover the invasion of Bougainville. Soon thereafter, generals MacArthur and Kenney declared that Rabaul was finished and mistakenly turned their attention elsewhere. Within a few weeks, carriers of the Imperial Navy delivered hundreds of planes to reinforce Rabaul’s land units.