by John Prados
After the Philippine Sea battle, Admiral King asked F-22 whether the Imperial Navy might replenish its carrier air groups from other existing units, either in Empire waters or the Philippines. Lieutenant Robert L. Suggs, the air estimates man with Army G-2 (U.S. Army intelligence), doubted it. Commander Sebald took his cue from that.
At Pearl Harbor the consignment messages, understanding of which depended upon translation, confirmed that impression. Translation required Japanese language officers. Smith-Hutton, the last prewar U.S. naval attaché in Japan, Sebald, McCollum, and Emory were all Japanese language officers. Jasper Holmes was not. Holmes later wrote, “Had the U.S. Navy been dependent on people like me, Japanese secrets would have been safe; but it was not.” The language officers became the basis for U.S. understanding of the Japanese. Each of the language officers had lived in Japan for periods of several years or more, absorbing culture and mores in addition to the vocabulary. In fact, Bill Sebald had actually left the Navy to become a lawyer for American clients in Japan but returned to the service once war came. Even before Pearl Harbor Albert E. Hindmarsh had surveyed Japanese language teaching in the United States and found it woefully inadequate, and that led to the courses at Harvard and Berkeley. In Tokyo as attaché, Henry Smith-Hutton scooped up copies of Japanese dictionaries, character illustrations, and so forth. They became the basis for the courses.
Once war came, the language program expanded to the University of Colorado. The first of the Boulder Boys arrived at JICPOA in early 1943, and by the Marianas battle, most of the 250-odd officers in the Estimates, Enemy Air, and Translation sections at Pearl Harbor were Boulder Boys. They became the backbone of JICPOA, and they were about to face their greatest challenge to date.
Japanese preparations for battle could be followed via the intelligence, and in July the radio traffic told the Boulder Boys that Tokyo was stripping its army in Manchuria of air assets to move them to the Philippines. Two entire air divisions were overheard making links to the 4th Air Army, a new entity identified in the islands. One unit consisted mostly of maintenance crews; the other division contained nearly 400 aircraft. Smaller units, fighter regiments, were found to be transferring from Formosa or Burma to the Philippines. As for ground forces, the code breakers identified a new 14th Area Army covering all of the Philippines, and in mid-August, a new 35th Army in the southernmost islands. The Ultra betrayed no fewer than fifty-two major Japanese convoy movements over the high summer—and many of them were bound for Manila. American subs used the intel to exact losses from the Japanese by sinking their transports, cargomen, and tankers. In mid-August U.S. intelligence knew that Japanese Army forces in the Philippines had increased to some six divisions and believed that two more could be en route. One of these actually went to Okinawa, but several additional formations added to the 14th Area Army more than made up the difference. Estimated Japanese troop strength rose from 176,000 in July to 200,000 in early September to 225,000 a month later.
PLANNING ARMAGEDDON
When Toyoda Soemu rose to the top of the Imperial Navy he was a cypher to Allied intelligence. They had only themselves to blame. For years before Pearl Harbor the U.S. and Japanese Navies traded officer lists and Toyoda’s rise could be followed in them. Toyoda had been a language officer too, in his case in London, learning English and then serving as naval attaché to Great Britain at the time of the historic naval arms limitation negotiations in the 1930s. His English might not have been great (he could understand but not speak it), but the Brits had plentiful understanding from encounters with him. Later, when another naval treaty was negotiated at London in 1930, Toyoda went along to shepherd delegation chief Yamamoto Isoroku, who had been a class ahead of him at Etajima.
The renowned Japanese destroyer captain Hara Tameichi found it nonsensical that Admiral Toyoda had reached the pinnacle of the Combined Fleet, for Toyoda had no combat know-how—the only experience that could be pointed to was his role in the China Incident, where Toyoda had led the Japanese invasion at Tsingtao (Qingdao) and supervised a blockade of the coast. But while up to a point there’s a certain truth to Hara’s gripes, the admiral held one of the top slots on the officers’ list, and to appoint someone different would have meant getting rid of Toyoda altogether. The next sailor behind him, Admiral Kondo Nobutake, had been under a black cloud since his defeat leading Imperial Navy battleships off Guadalcanal. There could be no question of Kondo heading the Combined Fleet at this stage of the war, so Toyoda Soemu became the inevitable choice.
But despite his lack of experience, Admiral Toyoda had the reputation of being very sharp—and well informed. Tenth in seniority among Japanese naval officers, Toyoda graduated Etajima in 1905, not at the top of his class but not very far away (26 out of 171), and he prided himself on strict precision. Leading the Fourth Fleet off the China coast in early 1938, Toyoda had his flagship, the cruiser Mogami, challenge a Royal Navy vessel that had failed to salute his flag. In 1939, he was picked to head the Naval Technical Bureau—leading on shipbuilding—because Japanese senior officers realized naval construction needed to be energized. Toyoda served two years each on the staff of the Combined Fleet and with the Navy Ministry. In those roles, the admiral showed that he was not necessarily wedded to hoary old ideas.
Toyoda considered the problem of defending the Philippines, realizing full well that fighting the battle might cost the entire fleet, and decided with equanimity to take that course. In making that decision, he and his chief of staff, Kusaka, also moved the Combined Fleet staff from the light cruiser Oyodo to a shore post on the outskirts of Tokyo in Hiyoshi—which caused much controversy. Young sailors denounced the admirals for demoralizing the fleet by leaving them for a land base, and old officers complained that Toyoda was breaking a tradition begun by Admiral Togo in the Russo-Japanese War.
By moving command ashore, the fleet commander would have the calm to consider matters without being caught up in an immediate battle situation—plus a shore base would be less vulnerable to interception of its orders sent by radio. And, of course, doing without a flagship meant an additional warship on the front lines.
Putting fleet headquarters in a former women’s college dormitory encouraged flippant remarks but made good sense for several reasons. Proximity to Naval War College facilities was one. Another was the chance to build a huge bombproof command complex for the corps of about 600 radiomen that kept Combined Fleet staff in touch with all its far-flung outposts. This kind of expansion space was just not available on a ship. Another advantage was having the staff officers living right at headquarters, with the men available at all hours, if necessary.
When quarters were being assigned, those for Admiral Toyoda were placed right next to those for chief of staff Kusaka. The latter rejected this, telling Toyoda’s aide-de-camp to give him rooms as far away from the C-in-C as possible. The move startled Toyoda, who asked Kusaka about it. The chief of staff replied that they should not live next door—it would be too close and the C-in-C was like a boil above the eye—the one man in the Navy Kusaka should be afraid of. Toyoda, open and frank, suggested a compromise. They moved in down the hall from each other. From time to time the C-in-C visited Kusaka in his quarters.
At the morning staff meetings Vice Admiral Kusaka ruled the roost. He would go around the table, solicit views on the day’s business, and make decisions. The C-in-C often said nothing. Admiral Toyoda intervened only sporadically. Kusaka consulted him afterward with a list of issues and decisions. Sometimes Toyoda asked not to be bothered with small details. When necessary he changed an order. Kusaka once asked Toyoda why the C-in-C had so little to say. The admiral replied that he took the measure of men, and those who were razor-sharp and great, like Kusaka, needed little attention. This confidence would have an effect once battle began.
Admiral Toyoda understood that each day the surface fleet spent in Empire waters amplified the fuel shortage problem. Before the Marianas battle, Toyoda had gone to the
mat with Tokyo authorities and obtained an allocation of 80,000 tons of tankers specifically to support the fleet. Some of these had promptly been sunk at the Philippine Sea battle, and more were destroyed every day. In order to stem the fuel problem, Toyoda wanted the fleet right down in the oil-producing southern resource area as soon as its refit had been completed.
To separate the Second Fleet, the Navy’s major surface attack unit, from the Mobile Fleet represented a radical departure. Admiral Toyoda, however, reasoned that without a supply line to the south, the fleet would be useless. Takata Toshitane, a senior planner, later observed that Toyoda was thinking of what had happened to the Italian fleet earlier in this war, which had kept to its bases awaiting battle, and wound up just surrendering; or the German High Seas Fleet in World War I, which had had to scuttle itself to avoid the same result. Rear Admiral Takata agreed that once the Allied fleet arrived off the Japanese coast, the Imperial Navy would be unable to oppose it with a balanced force of any size. Much better to go now while the Navy possessed some power.
Vice Admiral Ugaki Matome, the leader of Battleship Division 1 in the Second Fleet, opposed the move south on grounds that the round-trip from Empire waters to Singapore would take twenty days or more. Ugaki did not realize the fleet would never return. Admiral Ugaki also objected to using the warships to carry cargoes of troops, equipment, and so forth for deposit at various ports along the way.
But in the midst of 1944, there were few options. Warships were faster and better protected, unlike merchant ships, whose losses had put serious constraints on what the Japanese could move. Strength had fallen to a level where it had become necessary for the big warships to do double duty. With no other choice, the Second Fleet began moving on July 8—its big ships bound for different intermediate ports. Ugaki sailed in the Yamato. While leaving port, he was annoyed when his superbattleship took extra-long to turn. The admiral knew it had happened because the load she carried—men and equipment bound for Okinawa—had changed the vessel’s trim. As the Yamato sailed toward its destination, the Navy reorganized the Second Air Fleet—one of the formations Admiral Toyoda expected to be at the center of battle. The surface ships continued to deploy. Another group stopped at Manila. The task force with the Yamato in it arrived at Lingga anchorage on July 16.
Takata Toshitane and Yamamoto Chikao were good friends. The admiral may have been channeling the feelings of his comrade the NGS operations chief. But that is not likely. Takata himself had become almost a professional staff officer in the Imperial Navy. He had been an instructor at the War College, had worked on shipbuilding with the Naval Technical Council, and had been in the prestigious Military Affairs Bureau of the Navy Ministry, the NGS, and the Second, Third, and Combined Fleet staffs. That summer of 1944, Rear Admiral Takata had been seconded to the Combined Fleet staff. The Sho operational concept that emerged from fleet staff matched and reinforced the NGS vision at every level. Admiral Toyoda approved the top secret order. It provided that airfields be prepared in the Philippines, that two entire air fleets would be sent into battle, and that within two days of invasion the surface fleet would leave for the landing area. Its primary target would be the amphibious shipping that sustained the invasion.
A complementary directive, Combined Fleet Operations Order No. 84, issued on August 1, set the disposition of the forces. Overall command went to Vice Admiral Ozawa Jisaburo, who had led the Mobile Fleet at the Philippine Sea battle. He would shepherd a main body from Japan, with the available carrier strength. The 1st Diversion Attack Force (also called a “striking force”) would sail from the Singapore-Lingga area. It contained the fleet’s primary surface power, Vice Admiral Kurita Takeo’s Second Fleet. The Fifth Fleet, Japan’s guard force in the North Pacific, would swing around far to the south, pick up a pair of old battleships and a couple of destroyer divisions, and make a 2nd Diversion Attack Force.
On August 4, Takata added an “outline of operations” that became Directive No. 85. This plan ordained that the Kurita fleet would strike the landing zone in conjunction with the air force, while Ozawa’s main body “will . . . assume the mission of diverting the enemy task forces to the northeast in order to facilitate the attack of the First Striking Force.” In this case, the Fifth Fleet could function as a vanguard force for Ozawa’s diversion.
Preparations continued at a drumbeat pace. Simulated war games at the Naval War College helped validate the Sho strategic concept. Before the evaluations began, Admiral Yonai Mitsumasa addressed participants. He spoke of the upcoming operation, but also of the need for peace. When the games began, Combined Fleet staff and NGS officers took the role of the Allied forces. Ozawa Jisaburo played leader of the carrier fleet and Mobile Fleet, and stand-ins took the roles of Admiral Kurita and his subordinates. The scenario modeled a hypothetical Allied invasion of Taiwan, projecting the American carrier fleet would punch at the Home Islands and Philippines before their invasion flotillas unloaded their storm troops. The war games’ main finding would be that Japan must conserve attack capabilities until the very moment of action. The JNAF saved its planes in the war game by sending them elsewhere—either to Korea or to northern Japan, where they would be out of range, or to the Tokyo area, where heavy defenses could deter the Americans.
Meanwhile, Admiral Hasegawa Kiyoshi, governor of Taiwan, visited Tokyo in early August to discuss intensifying the island’s contribution to the war effort. The Sho plan anticipated using Taiwan as a transit point for air forces by deploying from Japan to the Philippines in an “aerial pipeline.” On August 6, the Navy designated Vice Admiral Teraoka Kimpei as commander of its First Air Fleet in the Philippines. That force itself would be reconstituted the next day. The JNAF Second Air Fleet would cover Taiwan.
On August 15, Admiral Mikawa Gunichi took command of the Southwest Area Fleet, the Japanese Navy’s regional command for the Philippines. The same day, the Navy Ministry, responding to the initiative of its Taiwan area commander, issued orders establishing a new Takeo Naval Guard Force that would include five air groups for training.
Mikawa’s position was identical to the role that Admiral Nagumo had held in the Marianas. Mikawa had been the naval commander in the Solomons when Allied forces invaded Guadalcanal, and Mikawa had won the signal Japanese victory at the Savo Island battle there. The admiral’s assistant chief of staff, Rear Admiral Nishio Hidehiko, had held that same post under Mikawa at Rabaul early in 1943. Another officer seconded to Mikawa’s command staff was the attaché to the puppet Filipino government under the Japanese. That man, forty-eight-year-old Rear Admiral Hiraide Hideo, had been the Navy’s official spin doctor, who had enraged Tokyo political circles after the Savo Island battle when he claimed in a propaganda broadcast that Japan planned to stage a naval review off of New York Harbor. These were the seasoned officers of the Southwest Area Fleet.
On August 20, Combined Fleet promulgated its Operations Order No. 87, completely revamping the manner in which the Imperial Navy’s submarines would fight. Priority targets would be aircraft carriers, battleships, and troop transports, in that order. Submarines should lurk in patrol areas, not be deployed along a line of bearing as before.
Admiral Ozawa issued his first Mobile Fleet orders on August 10. The directives laid down new arrangements for communications, cruising dispositions, standard maneuvers, and other basic fleet routines. He also circulated a paper creating a framework for the Sho plan. Ozawa recognized something the Combined Fleet had not—that there might be a requirement to activate Sho as an air-only operation. In that case, Ozawa’s carrier air groups, which had not completed their training, were to act in conjunction with the fleet’s land-based air arm. Rear Admiral Obayashi Sueo viewed his boss as pained by this possibility but resigned to it. Vice Admiral Shima Kiyohide, whose North Pacific force (Fifth Fleet) answered to Ozawa under the August reorganization, also affirms Ozawa’s reluctance to part with his air groups but resignation at having to do so.
Over
the first days of September, Admiral Ozawa held tabletop war games for Mobile Fleet commanders. Due to the projected dates when officials expected the air groups to attain proficiency, game masters allotted the fleet with only enough planes for a single carrier division. The converted battleship-carriers sailed with Ozawa but had no planes. The Mobile Fleet had another battleship division, with the older vessels Fuso and Yamashiro. That, plus the Fifth Fleet, had little potential for victory in surface attack. The games showed Ozawa that he had no chance of effecting a rendezvous with the Kurita fleet coming from the East Indies. They also suggested that, sailing independently, the Mobile Fleet could exercise very little control over the Kurita fleet. And the Mobile Fleet would be too weak on its own to fight the Allies. Thus the war games revealed that Ozawa’s mission—to disrupt Allied rear areas—was too ambitious.
Japan’s Mobile Fleet commander did something very audacious—he asked superiors to reduce his forces and mission. In a memorandum to Admiral Toyoda, Ozawa argued that the assigned mission exceeded his capabilities, and that, rather than increasing his force (not practical), Toyoda should reduce Ozawa’s role to diverting Allied strength.
Fuchida Mitsuo, the ebullient Combined Fleet air staff officer, claims that it was he who suggested to Ozawa that the Mobile Fleet be reconfigured for the decoy mission. The two men enjoyed some familiarity. A few years before the war, when Ozawa first led an aircraft carrier division, it had been Fuchida who commanded the air group aboard flagship Akagi. The younger officer had taken charge of a practice night torpedo attack where all four of the battleship targets were declared eliminated. At the time, Admiral Ozawa had been personally congratulated by C-in-C Yamamoto. Now Ozawa, according to Fuchida, waxed enthusiastic over the concept of a decoy fleet. The captain quotes the admiral, “Good. I will recommend the idea to the Combined Fleet as my own initiative. You keep quiet.”
