Authors: Bruce Gamble
The Hellcats of Fighting 23 also encountered heavy opposition. Two were shot down by Zeros and a third was mauled, requiring a complete overhaul. Five were trapped aboard with repairable damage. In all,
Princeton
lost three Hellcats and three Avengers, with five pilots and four enlisted crewmen killed or missing in action. One pilot and two crewmen earned Purple Hearts for combat wounds.
Princeton’
s fighter pilots acquitted themselves well in their first combat. Nine Japanese planes were officially destroyed, including four listed in post-action reports as Ki-61 Tonys. One of these was credited to Henry Miller; however, as the JAAF did not have an operational fighter unit at Rabaul during that period, the encounter was almost certainly against a D4Y1 Judy flown by Air Group 501. With its similar profile, the inline-engine Judy would have looked much like a Tony, especially in the heat of a high-speed engagement. Miller and his pilots were duly impressed, reporting that the “Tony demonstrated superb maneuverability and higher speed than the F6F in the horizontal or in a climb.”
Clifton’s squadron tangled with even more enemy fighters. Of the thirty-two pilots in Fighting 12 who flew close or medium cover, half were involved in gunfights resulting in claims for victories, probable victories, or damage to enemy aircraft. In practically every case, the pilots shooting were division or section leaders; wingmen who stayed with their leader typically witnessed aerial engagements but rarely got an opportunity to fire their own guns.
With one exception, VF-12’s contacts were strictly against Zekes. Clifton downed one and claimed a probable. The day’s biggest haul went to Lt. John Magda, leader of the 2nd Division, which covered a group of dive-bombers. During the egress, more than twenty Zekes intercepted the SBDs from about four thousand feet above them. Magda was soon embroiled in nonstop action:
The sky became filled with Jap planes coming in on the SBDs from all angles. With a no-deflection shot to the stern, Magda got a Zeke which pulled in
front of him. This plane exploded soon after the initial hits. Magda probably downed another Zeke appearing off his starboard bow because the plane smoked badly and fell out of the fight. Magda then caught a Zeke closing on an SBD. After the first burst, the Zeke turned off the SBD but Magda stayed on the Jap’s tail until he flamed, rolled on his back, and crashed into the water. By this time, more SBDs had joined up, the average altitude being about 1000 feet. Magda caught another Zeke after an SBD. With two successive bursts from 45 degrees to 60 degrees deflection, this Zeke burst into flames.
Magda was credited with destroying three Zekes and probably a fourth. Another lieutenant in Fighting 12, section leader Rollin E. Gray, officially destroyed two, probably a third, and damaged two more.
Lieutenant j.g. Earl B. Crawford reported that he caught a Ki-21 Sally taking off from Tobera airdrome. Attacking from its two o’clock, he fired into the aircraft’s right engine, which burst into flames. The Japanese did lose one twin-engine aircraft, a transport, which was destroyed as a result of a crash-landing. Otherwise, total combat losses amounted to three
Reisens
and one
Suisei
, equating to three of the claimed Zekes and a so-called “Tony.”
WHILE THE AMERICAN dive-bombers, torpedo planes, and fighters faced intense opposition at low altitude, one of the day’s most dramatic combats occurred almost two miles above Simpson Harbor.
Caldwell, escorted by two Hellcats, remained at ten thousand feet to evaluate the strike. The fliers marveled at the action from their spectacular vantage point. Barnett snapped multiple images of warships under attack, some of his frames showing the crippled Maya on fire, others revealing clouds of white smoke rising from cruisers that fired their main batteries.
Caldwell could tell the attack caused confusion among the Japanese. Antiaircraft fire from shore batteries appeared to be hitting some of the ships, just as gunfire from warships could be seen raking Vulcan Crater. As the attack progressed, Caldwell noticed at least one heavy cruiser taking potshots at him with its high-angle guns.
For a few minutes, Caldwell and his escorts remained relatively safe. But the tenor of the morning suddenly changed. Some of Barnett’s photographs showed warships getting underway, others racing out of the harbor toward open water, by which time the observers had lingered too long. The bombing and torpedo squadrons completed their attacks and egressed from Simpson Harbor, hotly pursued by Zeros, which left Caldwell and his escorts alone and cut off.
The Japanese didn’t take long to figure out that the aircraft circling overhead with two escorts was important. Caldwell finally turned southeast toward
Saratoga
and Task Force 38, but before his formation got beyond Blanche Bay, eight Zeros swept into view. Ensign Roberts, flying on Caldwell’s left wing, quickly found
himself outmatched: “I suddenly saw Zeros coming at us from every which way. One of them got on Crockett’s tail. I got on that Zero and got him smoking. Then from another side, little red arrows squirted into my cockpit, and bullets bounced. I picked a hot one out of my lap. Then a 20mm cannon shell exploded at my ankle and hit my main battery cable, severing it and leaving me without electrical instruments.”
Lacking vital equipment, including the radio, IFF (identification, friend or foe), and the gun sight, Roberts veered into a cloud for safety. When he emerged, there was no sign of Caldwell or Crockett. He headed into another cloud to gather his wits. Realizing there was nothing he could do for the others, Roberts turned southeast toward the carriers. He was unable to home in on
Saratoga’
s radio beacon, so he missed the task force entirely. Rather than wasting fuel in a visual search, he continued southeast and made an emergency landing at the newly completed airstrip on Vella Lavella, nearly four hundred miles from Rabaul.
With Roberts gone, Caldwell’s TBF and its lone escort faced the Japanese fighters’ full fury. Both planes were raked repeatedly with machine-gun fire. Caldwell saw one Zero settle in just 150 feet behind Crockett and pulverize his F6F. Yet the lieutenant still managed to pull his nose around and flame a Zero as it rolled out from a gunnery pass.
Then it was Caldwell’s turn in the barrel. He looked to his left and saw Crockett still on his wing, his face bloody. Caldwell’s crew fought back with their single machine guns—Aviation Ordnanceman 2nd Class Kenneth Bratton in the rear turret and Aviation Chief Radioman Robert W. Morey firing a flexible .30-caliber from the ventral tunnel—but the TBF took a terrible beating. Enemy gunfire damaged the elevators, and destroyed the hydraulic system and intercom. Barnett continued to snap photographs as Bratton and Morey jointly knocked down a Zeke, after which Bratton damaged two more fighters. But then a stream of bullets penetrated the Plexiglas turret and put Bratton out of action, smashing his left knee; another slug entered his upper thigh.
With the turret silenced, a Zero slid behind the Avenger, avoiding the line of fire from Morey’s ventral gun. A long burst of machine-gun fire ripped through the lower fuselage. Morey could only hunker down as the bullets rattled through the radio compartment. Several fragments wounded him in the shoulder, face, and neck. One nearly spent round lodged in his arm, sticking partially out of the skin.
Standing in the compartment above, Barnett was still clicking away. A bullet hit his camera, so he grabbed another. Then a Zero rolled in for a deflection shot on the port side. Barnett pointed his camera at the aggressor, its black engine cowling almost filling the viewfinder. Just as Barnett released the shutter, the Japanese pilot triggered a burst at nearly point blank range. Bullets from the twin 7.7mm machine guns in the nose, which were mated to mechanical synchronizers, passed through the propeller arc and converged on the Avenger’s rear cockpit. Barnett evidently turned to duck at the last instant, but was struck squarely in the back
of the head by a bullet. He collapsed immediately and died within minutes of severe hemorrhage.
*
Just when it seemed the Japanese would finish off the two mangled planes, they turned away. The damage reports on both aircraft mentioned numerous holes from 7.7mm bullets, but no hits from 20mm shells. Perhaps the Japanese had run out of ammunition. Although both aircraft looked like sieves, their powerplants still ran smoothly. Both planes came from Grumman Aeronautical Engineering Company’s factory on Long Island. It was known as the Iron Works, a nickname based on Grumman’s reputation for building indestructible airplanes.
Crockett’s F6F had 268 bullet holes, including 54 in the cockpit. Crockett bled from several wounds, but they proved superficial. The armor plate behind his seat had saved his life. The Hellcat, too, flew better than it looked, as Crockett followed Caldwell’s lead back to the carriers. In the TBF, meanwhile, Caldwell thought he was alone with three dead crewmen until Morey handed him a deliberately optimistic note: “Bratton and Barnett are out of commission. Everything else O.K.” The plane was far from okay, of course, but getting back to the ship would be Caldwell’s responsibility.
Aboard
Princeton
and
Saratoga
, the landing signal officers and deck crews expertly recovered the returning planes. Few participants had escaped Rabaul without damage. Some planes were severely shot up, their pilots rattled, and aircraft with wounded aboard were given priority. After trapping aboard
Princeton
, Crockett was hospitalized briefly in the ship’s dispensary. His Hellcat, deemed repairable after bringing its pilot home, required a complete overhaul.
John Lucas bounced down on
Saratoga’
s deck with a jagged, gaping hole in his SBD’s fuselage and streaks of blood trailing down the aluminum skin. As soon as his plane was parked, deck crews strained to lift James’s body out of the shattered rear cockpit.
Farrington made it back to the carrier, but could not land aboard because both his TBF’s ailerons had been shot apart. Although he ditched successfully alongside
Saratoga
, only Farrington and his turret gunner escaped before the damaged Avenger sank.
Caldwell faced a naval aviator’s ultimate challenge: landing on a straight, narrow deck in a badly damaged plane with no flaps, ailerons, or radio, and only one main wheel extended. Even with 109 holes in his Avenger’s fuselage, wings, and tail, Caldwell made a near-perfect arrested landing. Physically drained, he lingered in the cockpit while deckhands rushed to aid his crew. One of the first to reach the canted plane was
Saratoga’
s flight deck officer, Lt. Julius “Julie” Bescos, a famed multisport athlete and coach at the University of Southern California. He and several others teamed up to pull Bratton from his turret. A photograph shows Bratton as he is
extricated from the plane, his face twisted in pain. The photograph by Lt. Wayne Miller became an enduring image of the Pacific war—more famous than the photographs that cost Barnett his life.
AT RABAUL, THE uneasy Captain Hara had taken
Shigure
out of Simpson Harbor as soon as the air raid sirens sounded. Receiving the all clear about three-quarters of an hour later, he guided his warship back into the caldera. The Eighth Fleet’s home was no longer the same:
I was stunned at what had happened in less than an hour… . What a disgrace!
Flagship
Atago
was burning, and her sisters
Maya
and
Takao
were damaged. These three heavy cruisers, each packing the firepower of a squadron of destroyers, were disabled in one raid, after having been conserved for a full year without ever engaging the enemy on the high seas. Also damaged were heavy cruisers
Mogami
and
Chikuma
, and light cruisers
Agano
and
Noshiro
, as well as destroyers
Fujinami
and
Amagiri
. I rubbed my eyes and wondered if this could be real.
It was all too real. The ordinarily mild Kusaka was furious. At Rabaul headquarters he bellowed imprecations at everyone.
Spurred by Kusaka’s wrath, airmen from the 1st Carrier Division tried to atone for the debacle. The outcome was one of the most outrageous exaggerations of the Pacific war. Late that afternoon, four Type 97 carrier attack aircraft (Nakajima B5N2 “Kates”) from
Zuikaku
and
Zuiho
, temporarily based at Rabaul for Operation
Ro-Go
, took off to conduct vector searches for the American fleet. At 1515 Tokyo time, approximately an hour after the first pathfinder departed, Lt. Hagane Kiyomiya led fourteen Kates aloft. Armed with torpedoes, they headed southwest. Eighty minutes later, Kiyomiya received a report from the second sector patrol, which had sighted four cruisers, five destroyers, and “two transports resembling carriers” three hundred statute miles from Rabaul, bearing 130 degrees. At 1640, the first sector plane confirmed the sighting. This was undoubtedly Task Force 38. During the next forty-five minutes, Sherman’s warships slipped away into the dusk.
The strike force flew a heading of 138 degrees from Rabaul until 1702, when the first sector plane transmitted a homing signal and Kiyomiya turned his force left to a heading of 120 degrees. At 1710, the torpedo bombers made visual contact with the targets.
Japanese newspapers described the outcome as a victory for the ages:
Thirty minutes after the sun sank beneath the horizon, reconnaissance planes of the Imperial Navy spotted the powerful enemy mobile units heading north at sea south of Bougainville.
Fourteen torpedo planes which had been primed for action at their Rabaul base hopped off immediately after receiving the radio flash.
Detecting the enemy fleet midway between Mono and Woodlark Islands to the south of Bougainville at 5:15 p.m., the Navy Eagles swooped right down upon the enemy craft, which comprised two aircraft carriers, four cruisers, and five destroyers.