The decision was a body blow to American morale. In Washington, Roosevelt was so upset he told Stark to demand an explanation from Pye. Though Stark himself had played a role in the decision, he dutifully wrote Pye that it was “essential for understanding required by higher authority that you furnish me with further information as to considerations which governed [the] retirement of two Western task forces.” Pye might have written back that he did it because Stark and King had labeled Wake “a liability,” but instead he wrote: “I became convinced that the general situation took precedence and required a conservation of our forces.” FDR remained unsatisfied and never quite forgave Pye. Knox was furious. In a letter to Kimmel the previous January, the Navy secretary had written: “There is no such thing as fighting a safe war…. Prudence must be relegated to a secondary position to the bold and resolute employment of the fleet.” He saw nothing bold or resolute in the decision to abandon the beleaguered Wake garrison. Nimitz, too, was disappointed that the effort to succor Wake had been recalled, but he spent no time regretting what he could not change: it was “water over the dam,” he said. And he continued to hold both Pye and Fletcher in high regard. Still, it was one more bitter disappointment for a country still reeling from the shock of Pearl Harbor, and one more burden for the new commander to bear.18
At the Naval headquarters building, Nimitz met with the officers of Pye’s (formerly Kimmel’s) staff, shook their hands, and asked them to stay on to help him. Having expected a dressing down, the officers immediately brightened in response to this appeal; one recalled that Nimitz’s arrival was like someone opening a window in a stuffy room. Indeed, after a careful assessment, Nimitz concluded that the terrible losses of December 7 had been less disastrous than they first appeared. Though all eight battleships had been hit, and five of them sunk, it had happened in the shallow waters of Pearl Harbor where most of them could be raised and repaired. Had the fleet gone to sea in an effort to drive off the attackers, those ships would very likely have been sunk in deep water and lost forever, and with a much greater loss of life. Instead, six of the eight battleships that were sunk or damaged on December 7 would be raised and repaired and would see action again later in the war.19
Moreover, while the death of the crewmen aboard these ships was unquestionably tragic, the temporary loss of the battleships themselves proved not to be all that strategically important. The very success of the Japanese attack underscored what some had been arguing for years: that battleships had been supplanted as the dominant weapon of naval warfare by aircraft carriers, and all three of America’s Pacific Fleet aircraft carriers had been out of port when the Japanese struck. As already noted, the Saratoga was at San Diego and about to return to Pearl Harbor after a refit at the Puget Sound Navy Yard in Bremerton, Washington. The other two American carriers were also at sea on December 7. In response to a “war warning” that he received from Washington on November 27, Kimmel had sent them off the next day to ferry combat planes to the distant American outposts at Wake and Midway. Halsey and the Enterprise, escorted by three cruisers and nine destroyers, had ferried a dozen Marine fighter planes to Wake Island, where those planes played a major role in fighting off the initial Japanese attack, and Rear Admiral John H. Newton and the Lexington with a similar escort carried planes to Midway, though news of the Japanese attack led Newton to turn the Lexington around before he could deliver them.20
Kimmel had ordered Halsey to return to Pearl Harbor by December 7, but refueling at sea and an accident involving a cable that became wrapped around a propeller of the cruiser Northampton delayed him, and he was still several hundred miles out when he received the startling message, “Air Raid Pearl Harbor. This is no drill.” Halsey’s first thought was that it was a case of mistaken identity. In order not to enter port with a deck load of airplanes (which could not take off from an anchored carrier), the Americans routinely flew their airplanes into Oahu from up to a hundred miles out. Halsey had launched a number of scout planes that morning that would have been arriving at Pearl just about the time of the report; he feared that nervous gunners at Pearl had mistaken his planes for enemy aircraft. As it happened, the planes from the Enterprise arrived in the midst of the Japanese attack, and some of them were targeted by friendly fire. Once Halsey realized that the raid was real, he launched more planes to search for the enemy. He sent most of them southward toward a reported contact—false, as it turned out—and thus missed the retiring enemy fleet. It was just as well, for had Halsey’s scout planes found the six carriers of the Japanese strike force and opened a general engagement, he would have been hopelessly overmatched, and the Enterprise might well have become the next victim of the day, with consequences much greater than the temporary loss of eight battleships.21
As a result of these circumstances, Nimitz had three large aircraft carriers he could count on to be the nucleus of his new fleet. A fourth was on the way, for the Yorktown (CV-5), which had been sent to the Atlantic in April along with three battleships and several light cruisers and destroyers, was now ordered to return to the Pacific. That would give Nimitz four aircraft carriers and a powerful strike force to counter future Japanese initiatives. Of course it was theoretically possible for the U.S. to bring even more warships around from the Atlantic to the Pacific, including some battleships. That was problematic, however, in light of the fact that on December 11 Hitler declared war on the United States, committing the U.S. to a two-front war with enemies in both oceans.
The onset of a two-ocean war necessitated a reconsideration of American strategic plans. For more than twenty years, the U.S. Navy had focused most of its planning, training, and war gaming on a possible war with Japan. The blueprint for that future war was officially known as Plan Orange, and the first version of it had been sketched out in 1911. Its basic outlines were simple—even simplistic. It presumed an outbreak of war triggered by a Japanese assault on the Philippines, following which the U.S. fleet would gather in Pearl Harbor and strike out across the broad Pacific for a showdown with the Japanese battle fleet somewhere in the western Pacific. Over the years the plan had been updated and modified, and several options built into it, but the basic outline remained the same.22
Hitler’s rise to power in the 1930s had led to both ambitious rearmament programs and strategic adjustment. The Vinson-Trammel Act of 1934 began this metamorphosis, and by the time of Pearl Harbor the United States had an enormous armada under construction: eight battleships, twelve carriers, thirty-five cruisers, 196 destroyers, and more than three thousand airplanes—a force, taken together, that was larger than the entire Japanese Navy. None of these new-construction warships, however, would be ready for deployment until very late in 1942 or early 1943. In the meantime, the Nazi conquest of France in June, 1940, and the ensuing U-boat threat to the Atlantic lifelines, dramatically changed many of the assumptions behind Plan Orange. Until then, U.S. strategists had hoped that Britain and France could hold off the Germans long enough for America to complete her rearmament. Now with France defeated and occupied, and Britain teetering on the brink of collapse, it looked possible—perhaps even likely—that Hitler might complete his conquest of Europe before the U.S. had fully rearmed. In light of those facts, in November of 1940, a few weeks after Roosevelt’s reelection to a third term, and a full year before Pearl Harbor, Betty Stark wrote a lengthy memo to Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox that offered a completely new strategic blueprint.23
Stark’s November 1940 memo was one of the most consequential documents ever submitted to the government by a naval officer. Executing Plan Orange against Japan, he wrote, “would take a long time,” and as a result “we would have to accept considerable danger in the Atlantic.” In fact, as Stark well knew, there was already “considerable danger” in the Atlantic, where U.S. destroyers were engaged in a kind of quasi-war with German submarines in an effort to keep open the line of supply from the United States to beleaguered Britain. Concerned about a British defeat, and the dire consequences of such an even
t for the United States, Roosevelt repeatedly stretched the meaning of “neutral” by expanding U.S. Navy operations in the Atlantic. Stark was concerned about Britain, too, and to address those concerns, he recommended reversing twenty years of Navy planning to reorient American focus from the Pacific to the Atlantic. “The reduction of Japanese offensive power,” he wrote, could be achieved “chiefly through economic blockade” while the United States devoted the bulk of its efforts to “a land offensive against the Axis powers.” That would require “a major naval and military effort in the Atlantic,” during which time “we would … be able to do little more in the Pacific than remain on a strict defensive.” The great danger, of course, was that Britain might collapse in spite of American support, in which case the U.S. would find itself on the defensive in both oceans. But Stark was betting on the British to hold out.24
Admiral Harold “Betty” Stark served as CNO until replaced by King in March 1942. His November 1940 “Plan Dog” memo was instrumental in reorienting American strategy from the Pacific to Europe. (U.S. Naval Institute)
After laying out his argument, Stark presented four strategic alternatives, which he labeled A, B, C, and D. The last of them was his preferred option. Known as “Plan Dog” in Navy lingo, it asserted that in case of war with both Germany and Japan, the U.S. should remain on the defensive in the Pacific and devote its “full national offensive strength” to the defeat of Nazi Germany. “Should we be forced into a war with Japan,” Stark wrote, “we should … definitely plan to avoid operations in the Far East or the mid-Pacific that will prevent the Navy from promptly moving to the Atlantic forces fully adequate to safeguard our interests and policies in the event of British collapse.” Finally, Stark urged the initiation of “secret staff talks” with British officials.25
Stark’s memo found a ready audience in Washington, where Roosevelt, too, was worried about a British collapse, and the staff talks that Stark had recommended took place in January 1941 in Washington. From those meetings emerged a document known as ABC-1, which outlined the strategy subsequently known as “Germany First.” Specifically, it held that “since Germany is the predominant member of the Axis Powers, the Atlantic and European area is considered to be the decisive theater. The principal United States Military effort will be exerted in that theatre, and operations of United States forces in other theatres will be conducted in such a manner as to facilitate that effort.” That exact language was subsequently incorporated into the American war plan called “Rainbow 5” that was adopted in November 1941, just eighteen days before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and thirty-five days before Nimitz took command. Given these strategic realities, Nimitz knew he would not be able to count on any significant reinforcement for his Pacific command until the new-construction warships began to slide off the building way in about a year. He would have to fend off the Japanese with what he had: three (soon to be four) aircraft carriers, a dozen cruisers, a few squadrons of destroyers, and the handful of submarines that had been overlooked by the Japanese on December 7. Nimitz would also have control of Task Force 1, made up of the old battleships that survived the Pearl Harbor attack (plus the Colorado, which had been undergoing overhaul in Puget Sound), and three more battleships returned to the Pacific from the Atlantic. Given recent events, however, it was unclear just how much of an asset those old battleships would be.26*
Nimitz was eager to use the submarines right away. An old submarine hand himself, he held his change-of-command ceremony on board the submarine Grayling (SS-209) on the last day of the year. He did so not only because of his longtime association with submarines but also to boost the morale of the so-called silent service. Given the fact that the U.S. had gone to war against Germany in 1917 ostensibly because of Germany’s conduct of unrestricted submarine warfare, it is ironic that the first operational command sent out in December 1941 was the one to “EXECUTE UNRESTRICTED SUBMARINE AND AIR WAR AGAINST JAPAN.”27
Before the war was over, American submarines would take a terrible toll on the Japanese Navy and on her merchant fleet, and play an important role in several major surface actions as well, including Midway. But in the first year of the war, their impact was compromised by the fact that their torpedoes didn’t work. The American Mark 14 torpedo was equipped with an advanced magnetic proximity detonator that was designed to run underneath the target vessel and explode when it recognized the iron hull of the ship above it. Though no one in the Navy knew it in December 1941, the torpedoes ran eleven feet deeper than the specifications indicated, which was often too deep for the warheads to register the magnetic anomaly of a ship’s hull. Even after some sub skippers changed the settings so the torpedoes didn’t run so deep, the warheads often failed to detonate. Some torpedoes actually struck an enemy ship only to bounce off the hull with a perceptible metallic clang and sink. Finally, the torpedoes were so erratic that their course was unpredictable, a few of them running in a circle, targeting the sub that had fired them.
There were two explanations for these catastrophic failures. The main one was that the peacetime Bureau of Ordnance had been underfunded during the Depression years, and, since the torpedoes cost ten thousand dollars each, the Bureau forbade live-fire testing. The second explanation was that the cutting-edge magnetic warhead was classified SECRET, and, according to the official postwar history, “security … became such a fetish, that measures designed to protect [the magnetic warhead] from enemy eyes actually hid its defects from those who made the regulations.” The result was a torpedo that often simply failed to detonate. On the very day that Nimitz arrived in Pearl Harbor, Commander Tyrell D. Jacobs, in command of the submarine Sargo (SS-188), fired eight torpedoes at three different ships from close range and scored no hits. He could not believe that he had missed and notified his superiors that there had to be something wrong with the torpedoes. Officers in BuOrd attributed his failure to bad shooting. Even after other skippers reported similar problems, the Bureau continued to insist that it was due to human error and not technical failure. Nimitz himself finally ordered deactivation of the magnetic proximity detonators in June of 1943, eighteen months after the war began.28
These were the tools that Nimitz had to hand when he assumed command of the American Pacific Fleet: a battleship fleet that rested on the bottom of Pearl Harbor, three carriers with a theoretical capacity of 264 airplanes, a handful of cruisers and destroyers, and a submarine fleet whose torpedoes did not work. The arrival of the Yorktown from the Atlantic would give him a fourth carrier, but because of the Allied commitment to Germany First, as well as the industrial production schedule, he had little prospect of getting any other meaningful reinforcement anytime soon. In the weeks and months ahead he would have to decide how best to use these tools to contest Japanese domination of the Pacific, careful to preserve what he had, yet not so cautious that he conceded the Pacific to the enemy.
Throughout that period, to all outward appearances, Nimitz maintained a cool, confident demeanor that lifted the spirits of those about him. It was an act, for he was beset by unrelenting anxiety. Though he worked hard all day, at night sleep refused to come. On the day he assumed formal command as CinCPac, he wrote his wife, “I have still not reached the point where I can sleep well because there is so much going on and so much to do.” He felt like he was on “a treadmill whirling around actively but not getting anywhere very fast,” and even after a month, he confessed to her, “I do feel depressed a large part of the time.”29
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Pacific, the Japanese celebrated what certainly looked like a decisive victory at Pearl Harbor, and they had already embarked on a campaign to consolidate their triumphs by establishing what they called the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere: an empire that stretched from China to the mid-Pacific, and from Alaska to Australia. At the heart of this Japanese success was the group of six Japanese aircraft carriers that had executed the attack on Pearl Harbor, a force known as the Kidō Butai.
* More than fifteen hu
ndred Americans were taken prisoner by the Japanese when the island fell. Most of them (1,146) were civilian construction workers; the others included 368 Marines, 65 Navy men, and five Army soldiers. Most were transported to Japanese POW camps where they remained—those who survived—until 1945. A hundred or so of the construction workers were retained on Wake, and in 1943, when it looked like the island might be recaptured by the Americans, the survivors were lined up and shot.
The Battle of Midway (Pivotal Moments in American History) Page 3
