War Stories II (15 page)

On 23 February, a long-range I-class submarine shelled the coast of northern California and incendiary flares attached to small balloons started forest fires in Oregon. Though militarily insignificant, the attacks on the U.S. mainland caused panic in Washington. The American press, distracted by these events, barely covered a real disaster on 27 February in the Java Sea. There the Japanese destroyed a hastily cobbled together U.S.-British-Dutch task force and eliminated the last remnant of Allied naval power anywhere near their Home Islands or newly seized possessions. From that point on, the Americans were virtually fighting alone against the Japanese in the Pacific.

In an effort to slow the Japanese advance, every available submarine and all three carrier battle groups of the Pacific Fleet were thrown into the fight. Though poor torpedoes and inexperienced crews limited the initial effectiveness of the U.S. subs, the carriers scored some successes.

Between 1 February and the end of March, Vice Admiral William “Bull” Halsey with the USS
Enterprise
, Rear Admiral Jack Fletcher on the USS
Yorktown
, and Vice Admiral Wilson Brown aboard the USS
Lexington
conducted a series of fast carrier raids over vast areas of the southwest Pacific. Japanese installations, ships, and forces were hit in the Marshall Islands, the
Solomons, and the Bismarck Archipelago, and successful attacks were conducted against Kwajalein, Marcus, and Wake Islands.

Though these fast carrier raids did little serious long-term damage to the Japanese, U.S. commanders and pilots were quickly gaining skill and proficiency against their far more experienced adversaries. Using newly built fleet oilers and fast resupply ships, the U.S. carriers perfected the ability to replenish under way, allowing them to stay at sea for months at a time. The pilots were improving as well, and the names of U.S. naval aviators were becoming known to the American people, desperate for good news on any front. While battling Japanese bombers sent out to find the
Lexington
, Lieutenant Edward “Butch” O'Hare became the Navy's first ace—achieved by downing five enemies—and was lionized in the press.

Yet as dramatic and courageous as these fast carrier raids were to the American people and the participants, they were still defensive operations, hitting at but not stopping the Japanese advance. By mid-April 1942, the Japanese had seized virtually all the territory they needed to assure the availability of strategic resources and materials for their war effort. And once the Philippines fell, they would be able to secure their entire southern flank—and neutralize Australia as an Allied base.

By the spring of 1942, the long string of defeats and near-calamities had many Americans grumbling that it was “time to fight back.” In Washington, congressional leaders complained to FDR that Radio Tokyo was broadcasting taunts that the Japanese Home Islands “were invincible and could never be attacked.”

But in April 1942, striking at Japan itself seemed nothing short of impossible. Land-based bombers in China and Australia didn't have the range to make it to Tokyo and return. Naval air raids were out of the question. Carrier-based aircraft had to be within 200 miles of their target—300 at the very most—and it was going to be many months, if not years, before the U.S. Pacific Fleet, ruined at Pearl Harbor, could be rebuilt strong enough to seriously challenge the Japanese navy west of Hawaii.

Fast carrier raids like those conducted by Halsey, Brown, and Fletcher helped keep the Imperial Fleet off balance—it wasn't the same as going on
the offensive. And in April of 1942, with the collapse of the Philippines—even with Wainwright holding out on Corregidor—almost everyone assumed that hitting the Japanese at home was impossible.

But those who were so despondent didn't know that the U.S. Navy and Army had been working together for months on a daring plan to do just that. And they hadn't reckoned on Jimmy Doolittle.

Two weeks after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Navy Captain Francis Low, a submarine officer on the staff of the chief of naval operations, Admiral Ernest J. King, was dispatched from Washington to Norfolk, Virginia. His mission was to determine what could be done to expedite the delivery of a brand-new carrier, the USS
Hornet
. While there, Low happened to observe some U.S. Army Air Corps bombers practicing takeoffs and landings from nearby Langley Field. Because the airfield was also used to train Navy pilots, it had the outline of a carrier deck painted on the runway. As Captain Low watched the Army bombers practice “touch and go” landings and takeoffs, his imagination took over.

 

Admiral Ernest J. King, chief of naval operations during World War II.

Returning to Washington, Low broached an idea with Admiral King that lesser men might have rejected, for fear of having their service loyalty—or even their sanity—questioned: “Sir, I'm wondering . . . would it be possible for Army bombers to take off from a carrier?”

No one had ever tried it before, but King, rather than rejecting the query out of hand, instantly grasped its importance. If a long-range Army bomber
could take off from a carrier, the U.S. vessel—and those that accompanied it—wouldn't have to get nearly as close to the target as smaller, shorter-range Navy aircraft did. With the Far East Air Force eliminated and the Philippines under siege, it might be the only way America could strike back at Japan for months or years to come.

Admiral King put the submarine officer to work on the concept and told him the goal was to find a way to attack the Japanese Home Islands. Although he wasn't a pilot, Low understood that even if a fully loaded bomber could take off from a carrier, it was solving only half the problem. No large bomber could land on a carrier, and unless he could come up with a place for the Army aircraft to land, it would end up being a one-way suicide mission. Was there somewhere they could safely land?

 

General Henry “Hap” Arnold, commander, U.S. Army Air Forces.

Captain Low believed that the U.S. bombers might make it to a friendly base in China, where General Claire Chennault and a group of American “volunteers” were helping Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist Forces fight the Japanese. Unsure, he went back to King for advice.

Admiral King took the idea up to General Henry “Hap” Arnold, the Army Air Corps chief of staff. Intrigued, General Arnold immediately called his friend Lieutenant Colonel James H. “Jimmy” Doolittle for advice. Doolittle was a stunt flier, test pilot, and Army Air Corps officer. Yet Doolittle wasn't just a brash hotshot. He'd also earned a degree in aeronautical engineering at MIT so he would fully understand the science of flight as well as its daring mystique. He was the kind of pilot who needed to know firsthand just how high a plane could go, how fast it could fly, and just what it was made of.

Doolittle had become a charismatic and popular figure in the 1920s and'30s winning just about every aviation trophy available. His fame and notoriety were second only to Charles Lindbergh's. Doolittle had helped to develop the first high-octane aviation fuel and had pioneered instrument
flying in 1929. After covering the windshield of his airplane with a hood, he became the first person to fly a course and land “blind,” using only the plane's instruments to guide him.

But that was old news by now, and Hap Arnold had a new challenge for his daring friend. The general asked Doolittle, “Does America have a bomber that can take off in less than 500 feet and carry a 2,000-pound bomb load?” Arnold added that the planes had to have enough range to fly at least 2,000 miles and attack Japan.

Intrigued by the challenge, after several days of research, Doolittle told his boss that the only aircraft available for such a mission was the B-25, a relatively new twin-engine, land-based bomber, built by California's North American Aviation. Asked why he selected the B-25, Doolittle replied, “Because it's small . . . and has sufficient range to carry 2,000 pounds of bombs 2,000 miles.” Arnold gave his assent and left it up to Doolittle to work out the details.

The B-25 bomber Doolittle selected was trim—about fifty-three feet long (about the length of the typical semitrailer) and with a wingspan just a little over sixty-seven feet. Its right wingtip could just clear an aircraft carrier's island, the superstructure on the starboard side of the vessel. But the overriding question still had to be answered: Could it take off from an aircraft carrier?

Doolittle and the Navy tested the idea with a couple of stripped-down B-25s aboard the USS
Hornet
. The planes rolled down the deck, and at sixty knots—about sixty-five miles per hour—showing on the airspeed indicator, the big bombers lifted into the air before they got to the end of the carrier deck. So far, so good. But there still was no proof that a B-25 fully loaded with bombs, extra fuel, and crew could repeat the feat. Doolittle worked out the calculations and said it could be done—in theory.

That was good enough for Ernie King and Hap Arnold. Admiral King decided that the USS
Hornet
would be the ship, and Arnold told Doolittle that he could have as many B-25s as he needed for the operation.

The
Hornet
was the perfect choice for the mission. Brand-new, and outfitted at the then unheard-of cost of $31 million, it was the ship they had already used for testing the idea during her pre-commissioning trials.

Since only sixteen of the bombers would fit on the
Hornet
and still allow sufficient space on the 809-foot flight deck for a 500-foot takeoff roll, Doolittle now set out to find enough five-man crews to fly the mission. That should have meant he was looking for eighty men, but the forty-five-year-old lieutenant colonel needed only seventy-nine. Doolittle had convinced his superiors that he'd have to lead the attack, not just plan it.