For That One Day: The Memoirs of Mitsuo Fuchida, Commander of the Attack on Pearl Harbor

by Tadanori Urabe

  Following this action, Tomonaga issued an order to all forces to strike and to commence bombing Midway Airfield. However, there was not a single plane on the airfield. The US side, already aware the day before of the Nagumo Task Force’s presence, had evacuated the airplanes just ahead of the anticipated air-raid at dawn.

  As for Tomonaga, it was extremely careless to have dropped all the bombs without confirming the presence of enemy planes on the ground. His duty was to blow up the enemy’s air power, not to dig holes on the airfield.

  Admittedly, Tomonaga was a fearless pilot with actual air combat experience in the China campaign. However, he had limited experience in over-ocean operations, and it was only before the mission to Midway that he was assigned as the Hiryu’s Group Aviation Commander.

  Under these circumstances, he should have been perceptive enough to survey the landscape, then make the judgment that the enemy aircraft must be in the skies nearby. Midway was an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, so he should have waited for them to return, then pummel them.

  Instead, after he realized that his first wave bombardment had failed to destroy the enemy’s air capability, he radioed in and said that, “A second attack wave is required.”

  This report may have been justified as it was indeed true that the first wave attack squadron did not achieve its objective. Nevertheless, this radio message eventually became the first stumbling block of our Midway operations.

  Upon receiving Tomonaga’s report saying that a repeat attack was required, there was a commotion at the Nagumo Task Force’s Command Center. It was because they needed to wipe out the enemy base’s air power before the invasion force, led by Rear Admiral Nobutake Kondo, could approach and land. Here, the primary mobilization operation of the Nagumo Task Force was suddenly restricted, being bound by the need to support the invasion of Midway Base.

  Responding to this urgent situation, Nagumo decided to divert the second wave attack squadron that was standing by and have them prepare for the possible appearance of the enemy task force. However, the second wave attack squadron was equipped with anti-ship attack weapons. A base attack cannot be made with torpedoes. The Command Center quickly issued an order to the second wave attack squadron to convert their weapons to bombs for a land attack.

  I thought that we should not do this. However, I did not have power to stop this action, and I was lying on the deck in a hospital gown. The Akagi was in utter confusion as the planes that had been standing by on the flight deck were lowered down by elevator to the hangars below, where their torpedoes were replaced with land bombs.

  All of this was taking place an hour after sunrise. Suddenly, enemy planes were attacking. It was their torpedo bombing squadron. However, as I watched them, I saw that their torpedo launching methods were ineffective. It appeared that they were launching at an altitude of 100 meters with a sighting distance of approximately 1,500 meters. We evaded every torpedo as they all attacked as a single plane. One of the torpedoes launched at the Akagi ran along the port side where I was lying. It passed very close to us and was evaded only because of skillful maneuvering. As I watched, it made my blood freeze, and they scared me. None of the enemy torpedoes hit. And our air-cover fighter squadron and all the planes of the air supremacy squadron that had been standing by took off to intercept the enemy planes. Every enemy bomber was targeted by two or three Zero fighters, and anti-aircraft fire from our ships had to be suspended for a while. If we fired, we risked damaging our own fighters as well. Therefore, it was our Zero fighter squadron that shot down all the enemy planes that attacked us. All our crews watched these spectacular air fights that took place in front of them. They applauded and cheered loudly every time an enemy plane fell into the sea with a big splash.

  As I watched, my first impression was that these torpedo bombers seemed to be land-based planes from Midway Base. Later, information from the US confirmed my observation. It was announced that 51 US Marine Corps’ dive bombers stationed at Midway Base took off to attack the Nagumo Task Force, but only nine made it back. However, a different US source announced that 41 torpedo bombers were launched from three carriers of the US Task Force, and 35 of them were shot down, and none of their torpedoes hit any targets. Whatever the case, it was an assault by almost 100 planes, but the Akagi’s Command Center was not yet aware that some of the enemy torpedo bombers originated from enemy carriers.

  The US fleets that were waiting this day to attack the Nagumo Task Force were two task forces dispatched by the US Pacific Fleet’s Commander-in-Chief, Chester Nimitz. The 16th Task Force, led by Admiral Raymond Spruance, included two carriers, the Enterprise and Hornet (carrying 158 aircraft), five heavy cruisers, one light cruiser and 11 destroyers. The 17th Task Force, led by Admiral Frank Fletcher, included the carrier Yorktown (carrying 75 aircraft), two light cruisers and six destroyers.

  Meanwhile, as the seconds ticked away, the switch to land bombs on the planes of the second wave attack squadron was completed. The flight deck was now filled with planes, and unless they were launched soon for the air attack on Midway Base, the planes from the first wave attack would have nowhere to land.

  Then, just when the Command Center was about to launch the second wave attack squadron, a radio message came in from the Tone’s Number 4 reconnaissance plane: “Sight what appears to be 10 enemy surface ships, in position bearing 10 degrees, distance 240 miles from Midway. Course 150 degrees, speed over 20 knots, 0428.”

  This transmission time, 0428, was Tokyo operations time—0728 Midway local time. The reason behind this late report about the enemy sighting was a 30-minute delay in the launching of Tone’s reconnaissance plane due to a malfunction of her catapult. The launch time had been originally scheduled 30 minutes before sunrise, but the actual launching took place at 0500 (local time), just as the sun rose over the horizon. Adding to the delay, the Tone’s reconnaissance plane sighted the enemy on its return flight, not on its outbound flight.

  Furthermore, the report of the enemy sighting was poorly conveyed by the Tone’s reconnaissance plane. In any live reconnaissance operation, if a spotting occurs, the first sighting will reveal only a partial picture. Before sending such an ambiguous message—“… what appears to be enemy ships...”—if the plane had flown a bit further at full throttle, instead of at the ship’s speed, the reconnaissance plane would have grasped the entire picture. On this important day, what the high command was most eager to know about was the presence of enemy carriers. And the search crews all knew that this was their top priority.

  In spite of everything, the reconnaissance plane failed to follow common sense and sent the first report of the enemy sighting. Upon receiving this report, the Command Center became very excited. It was likely they had detected the enemy fleet. As a result, they held back the launching of the second wave attack squadron, which had been prepared for the repeat strike on Midway Base. However, having received only the information, “what appears to be 10 enemy surface ships,” they had no way to contact the reconnaissance plane without risking enemy interception of their communications. The Command Center waited very anxiously for the next message, but it did not come.

  Breaking radio silence, the Command Center sent a message, “Identify enemy ship type.” To this, Tone’s No.4 plane responded, “The enemy is composed of five cruisers and five destroyers, 0509.”

  It was close to 0830 (local time) when this message was received at the Nagumo Task Force’s Command Center. This delay was due not only to time spent on communications processing, but there was also considerable time spent discussing the plane’s first message before the Command Center decided to transmit its message, “Identify enemy ship type.” In retrospect, the plane’s report was deficient and should never have been sent as it was worded.

  In any case, the response of “five cruisers and five destroyers” put the Command Center at ease. They took this to mean that these were only enemy patrol ships, and they could be dealt with later. Then, about 30 minutes later, ther
e was another radio message coming in from the Tone’s No. 4 plane: “The enemy is accompanied by what appears to be a carrier.”

  It was close to 0900 (local time) when the message was received at the Command Center. This message was again unclear— “what appears to be a carrier”— but the Command Center decided that it referred to the enemy’s carrier. Finally, the enemy task force had appeared. And it must be annihilated without delay. From ancient times, military strategy has required speed before quality. I thought that we must immediately launch the second wave attack squadron. They carried land bombs, but land bombs can be powerful enough to penetrate the flight deck of enemy carriers. This would cripple their landing and takeoff function. We could take time to deliver the fatal blow later.

  I was impatient. However, the Command Center preferred quality over speed. In particular, Commander Nagumo was emotionally disinclined to launch the attack squadron unaccompanied by the air supremacy unit. We called it flying naked, and we had just witnessed the disaster of nearly 100 enemy torpedo bombers that were flying naked—all shot down by our Zero fighters. Because of this, Nagumo did not feel like sending the second wave attack squadron unescorted by our fighters. However, the fighters currently were all in the air counterattacking the enemy, and they had to land and refuel before the second wave could be launched.

  In this situation, Commander Nagumo issued an order to prepare to receive the returning fighters. They would, of course, be received based on fast landing procedures, but this would still take more than 30 minutes. In the meantime, the flight deck had to be cleared. This meant that the attack squadron lined up on the flight deck had to be lowered to the hangar deck. Once the attack planes had been lowered, the order was given to convert to torpedoes while the topside fighters were being refueled. Inside the hangar area, there was utter confusion as the crews had to remove the land bombs they had just installed earlier and replace them once again with torpedoes. However, the maintenance and munitions crews were not union members, and they desperately completed their efforts without a single word of complaint. Thus, the operation went smoothly, and the air supremacy fighters and torpedo bombers were lined up on the flight deck. Now, everything was ready to launch the attack on the enemy carriers. The Akagi was sailing against the wind at full speed.

  “Start launching!” The first fighter in the front row took off. In another five minutes, the launching of all the other planes would be completed. This is what was called the fateful five minutes of the Battle of Midway. Just as all of this was taking place, there was an attack by an enemy dive-bombing squadron. The lookout screamed, “In-coming enemy planes!”

  As I looked up from the deck where I was lying, a formation of nine enemy dive-bombers started to descend from the scattered clouds. We shot deafening rounds from our anti-aircraft guns, but they did not hit their targets. As soon as the first enemy plane raised its nose and produced a rasping sound, something black came drifting down. It was a bomb. For a veteran pilot like myself, it is not too difficult to determine whether the released bomb will hit or not. I saw that it would not hit us, and, sure enough, it fell into the sea starboard-side of the Akagi. Smoke rose from the explosion that followed. However, the second plane measured the shortfall and made adjustments. The pilot raised the plane’s nose and, with a rasping sound, dropped his bomb. Again, I saw that, even though it would be much closer, it would not hit us. As I expected, the bomb fell, almost touching the starboard-side of the Akagi, but it only ended up scaring the anti-aircraft gunners and ship crews in charge of takeoff and landing operations.

  However, the crucial plane was the third one, because it could make adjustments based on the two previous misses. The plane raised its nose, and the bomb that was released was floating down as though aimed straight at my navel. “This can’t be happening,” I thought, and I held my head and lay on my stomach. The bomb hit the center of the flight deck with a big blast, very close to where I was. I was lifted by the explosion and thrown against the flight deck at the front edge of the bridge. I could not stand up no matter how hard I tried. Both of my legs were broken. One of the breaks, my right heel-bone, was a simple fracture. But my left leg had suffered a complex fracture, and the bones were separated in three areas. And I was no longer able to stand as my ankle was twisted.

  The enemy bomb was not powerful enough to sink the Akagi, but it started a fire. Our planes that had been readying for takeoff burst into flames. They started to explode, one after another, and the explosions rocked the Akagi. It felt like an act of suicide. I became engulfed in the fire, and an emergency crew member rescued me from the flames, draped me over his shoulder and carried me down to the anchor deck. There, I was wrapped up and sent by a motor boat to the Nagara. The Nagara was the flagship of the First Torpedo Division, led by Rear Admiral Sentaro Omori. However, with the flagship Akagi incapacitated, Commander Nagumo transferred his admiral’s flag to the Nagara. From there, he attempted to prepare for night battle in order to annihilate the enemy fleet, but it would not be easy for our ships to catch up with the Americans as the distance we had to cover was 200 nautical miles.

  It was later reported that this enemy dive-bombing squadron of 70 bombers was launched from the carriers Enterprise and Hornet of Rear Admiral Spruance’s 16th Task Force. They claim to have killed, first, the Soryu, then the Akagi and finally the Kaga. Only the Hiryu survived by skillful evasion of the enemy’s bombing attempts. The remaining air squadrons of the Nagumo Task Force fought very well under the command of Rear Admiral Tamon Yamaguchi, Commander of the Second Air Division, with the Hiryu as his flagship.

  Of special note, Lieutenant Tomonaga crashed onto the enemy carrier on his third bombing attack, crippling her functional ability.6 As she began to sink, Yorktown’s crews were ordered to abandon the ship and were being transferred to an escorting destroyer. As this was happening, she was detected by our submarine I-168 and attacked. Both the Yorktown and the destroyer were sunk.

  In the meantime, the Hiryu, whose crew had fought so bravely, was completely incapacitated later that afternoon after a concentrated attack by a dozen or more enemy dive-bombers. After it became clear that the ship would have to be abandoned, Commander Yamaguchi decided to scuttle her with torpedoes launched from her escort destroyer. This was to prevent any chance of their being taken by the enemy. Both Commander Yamaguchi and Captain Tomeo Kaku remained on the ship, sharing the Hiryu’s fate. I felt deeply saddened. It was truly disheartening for me because I always wanted Rear Admiral Yamaguchi to be the Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet at the earliest opportunity and to serve under his command.

  Thus, the Battle of Midway ended in defeat for Japan. This was the turning point as the momentum in the Pacific War was reversed by this loss. However, what was most disgraceful about this operation was the incompetent leadership demonstrated by the Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet Yamamoto, rather than any failures ascribed to the actions or shortcomings of Commander Nagumo. On board the battleship Yamato, Yamamoto led a group of seven battleships—Yamato, Nagato, Mutsu, Ise, Hyuga, Fuso and Yamashiro—designated as the main battle force and proudly declaring their support of the entire operation leading from 300 nautical miles behind the Nagumo Task Force.

  In any case, four carriers of the Nagumo Task Force were lost, and because they were being pursued by the enemy’s two surviving carriers, Admiral Yamamoto’s main force had no choice but to retreat, instead of providing support for the entire operation.

  In this manner, the Battle of Midway ended in our defeat, and looking back it was clear that momentum of the war was reversed. However, what I thought at that time was that this defeat would be a wakeup call to the leaders of the Japanese Navy who were obsessed with Big Gun-Big Ship policy. If that happened, it would be a case of good coming out of evil. Besides, many of our air crews survived on the Akagi, Kaga and Soryu as the ships were hit immediately before the planes were launched. My fighting spirit had not been dampened, and I thought that we could regain our ba
ttle momentum as these veteran pilots had survived, despite the loss of four carriers.

  32

  Operation I-Go

  Taking advantage of their overwhelming victory at the Battle of Midway, US forces moved aggressively against Japan at Guadalcanal. In the early morning of August 7th, 1942, they landed on Guadalcanal and Tulagi with large convoys and occupied them. The Combined Fleet’s Command Center made desperate efforts to defend the area, and they clearly understood that a wedge had been driven between the south-western Pacific and our previously undefeated territory in the Great East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.

  Upon my discharge from the hospital at the end of October, I was assigned as an instructor to the Yokosuka Aviation Squadron, then, on December 20th, reassigned as an instructor at the Naval Academy. Although I was an instructor, there were no students to teach as they were all at the battle front. Therefore, the authorities gave me a position as Director of the Battle Lessons Research Committee. It was exactly what I wanted, and I devoted myself to the issue of battle lessons learned. Despite my eagerness, the detailed battle reports and wartime diaries from the field used to arrive almost a half-year after the events took place. Consequently, with a belief that the battle lessons should be obtained immediately from the front, I asked the authorities to prepare a Type-1 land bomber to fly me to Rabaul. I visited each airbase with a pencil and notebook hanging on my chest, walking with crutches. At the bases, they all knew me. However, when I said that I was there for research on battle lessons, they suspected that I was conducting a performance review or something similar, and they did not give me the facts. I was perplexed by their attitude.

  However, this was in the midst of Operation I-Go. Operation I-Go was an aviation showdown battle surrounding the offensive and defensive battles at Guadalcanal that lasted for six months.