World War II Pacific: Battles and Campaigns from Guadalcanal to Okinawa 1942-1945 (WW2 Pacific Military History Series)

by Daniel Wrinn

  Kamikaze swarms harassed the Fifth Fleet from the time they entered Ryukyuan waters and throughout the battle. Some senior Navy commanders dismissed the threat—inexperienced pilots and rundown planes launched with insufficient fuel to reach Okinawa. While it was true that many of the 2,377 kamikaze pilots did not fulfill their mission, Special Attack Unit pilots who got through the air and surface screens inflicted a wicked toll on the Fifth Fleet.

  At the end of the campaign, the Fifth Fleet had endured thirty-four ships sunk, 360 damaged, and over 9,000 casualties: the worst losses ever sustained in a single battle in the history of the US Navy.

  The situation at sea became so devastating that smoke from burning ships and offshore escorts blinded Kadena Airfield and caused four returning combat air patrol planes to crash. As the onslaught continued, Admiral Spruance said: “The suicide plane is an effective weapon which we must not underestimate.” Spruance spoke from first-hand experience. Kamikaze attacks knocked out his first flagship, the heavy cruiser Indianapolis, early in the campaign. Then they damaged his replacement flagship—the battleship New Mexico two weeks later.

  Enemy pilots attacking the fleet off Okinawa had a new weapon: the Ohka (Cherry Blossom) bomb. The Allies called this bomb “Baka” (the Japanese word for foolish). A manned rocket packed with 4,400 pounds of explosives launched at ships from the belly of a twin-engine bomber.

  The Ohka bombs were the first antiship guided missiles. They shrieked toward their target at an unheard of speed of 500 knots. This new weapon blew the destroyer Manert L. Abele out of the water. But luckily for the Allies, most Ohka’s missed their targets—the missiles were too fast for the inexperienced pilots to control in their last seconds of glory.

  The ultimate suicide attack was the final sortie of the super battleship Yamato. One of the world’s last great dreadnoughts. She had 18.1-inch guns that could outrange any US battleship. Imperial headquarters dispatched the Yamato on her last mission. A bizarre maneuver with no air cover and only a handful of surface escorts—with enough fuel for a one-way trip.

  Her mission was to distract American carriers while the Japanese launched a massive Kikusui attack against the rest of the fleet. Afterward, the Yamato would beach on the west coast of Okinawa and use her massive guns to shoot up the onshore landing force and the thin-skinned amphibious shipping. This daring plan proved to be a complete failure.

  This colossal warship would’ve terrified the fleet protecting an amphibious beachhead in the early years of the war. But not now. US submarines gave Admiral Spruance early warning of the Yamato’s departure from Japanese waters. Admiral Mark Mitscher asked Spruance: “Shall I take them or will you?” Mitscher commanded the fast carriers of Task Force 58. While Spruance knew his battleship force was eager to avenge their losses at Pearl Harbor—this was no time for nostalgia.

  Spruance signaled: “You take them.” And with that, Mitscher’s Avengers and Hellcats roared into action. They intercepted the Yamato a hundred miles from the beach. They sunk her quickly with torpedoes and bombs. It cost the Allied forces eight planes and twelve pilots.

  Another bizarre Japanese suicide mission was more effective. On the evening of May 25, seven enemy transport planes loaded with Giretsu (Japanese commandos) approached the Yontan Airfield. Vigilant antiaircraft guns flamed five planes, but the surviving plane made a wheels-up belly landing on the airstrip—discharging troops as she slid in sparks and flames along the long surface. Giretsu commandos destroyed eight planes and damaged twice as many more. They ignited 70,000 gallons of aviation fuel, creating chaos and confusion through the night. Jumpy security troops fired into the shadows and injured more of their own men than the Japanese. It took twelve hours to hunt down and destroy the enemy commandos.

  Admiral Spruance desperately tried to reduce the effectiveness of the kamikaze strikes. His fast-attack carriers hit enemy airfields in Formosa and Kyushu repeatedly, but the Japanese were experts at camouflage. Marine landing parties were sent to seize the outlying islands to establish fire direction and early warning outposts. Fighter aircraft from all three services took to the skies to intercept the massed waves of suicidal enemy planes.

  Not all of these enemy airstrikes were kamikazes. Equal numbers of fighters and bombers attacked Allied targets while guiding in the suicide planes. The Japanese used several of their later model fighters like the Nakajima in death-defying air-to-air duels over hundreds of miles of blue ocean.

  The far-reaching fast carriers usually made the first interceptions. While many pilots were from the Navy, the task force included two Marine fighter squadrons on the carriers Bennington and Bunker Hill. Marine pilot Lieutenant Ken Huntington flew the only Marine Corsair in the attack on the Yamato. Huntington swept through heavy antiaircraft fire to deliver a bomb on the battle ship’s forward turret. Described by war correspondent Robert Sherrod: “one Marine, one bomb, and one Navy Cross.”

  Marine pilots from MAGs 31 and 33 flying out of Yontan Airfield provided most combat air patrol missions over the fleet. Under General Mulcahy’s command, the combat air patrol missions surged from an initial twelve planes to as many as thirty-two, with another dozen on alert. These missions involved countless hours of patrolling in rough weather spiked by sudden violent encounters from enemy raiders. Marine planes ran a double risk. Battling with Japanese fighters often brought both planes within range of jittery shipboard antiaircraft gunners—who sometimes shot down both planes.

  On April 16, Marine Corsairs raced to help the picket ship Laffey under attack from five kamikaze planes. Allied aircraft shot down seventeen enemy planes. Only one Corsair was lost in the fight while chasing an enemy kamikaze so low that they both clipped the ship’s superstructure and crashed.

  Major George Axtell and his “Death Rattlers” (VMF-323) intercepted a large flight of enemy raiders approaching the fleet at dusk. Three Marine pilots shot down sixteen enemy planes in twenty minutes. Major Axtell, the squadron commander, shot down five and became an instant ace. He later described these dog fights: “You’d be flying in and out of clouds and heavy rain. Friendly and enemy aircraft would wind up in a big melee. You’d just keep turning into any enemy aircraft that appeared. It was fast and furious, and the engagement would be over within thirty minutes.”

  Despite the brave efforts of pilots and ground crews, a few kamikazes always got through. Kerama Retto’s protected anchorage resembled a floating graveyard of severely damaged ships. The small groups of suicide pilots who appeared every night in the fleet were especially vulnerable during the full moon. A naval officer described the nighttime raids as “witches on broomsticks.” The main victims of these nocturnal attacks were the “small boys,” amphibs and picket ships.

  Nick Floros was a 19-year-old signalman who manned a 20mm gun on the tiny LSM-120. One moonless night a kamikaze appeared out of nowhere. She glided in, cut her engine off, looking like a giant bat. The Japanese plane smashed into the LCM with a horrific explosion before anyone could fire a shot. While the small LSM loaded with landing force supplies somehow survived the fiery blast, she was immediately towed to Kerama Retto’s “demolition yard.”

  Japanese headquarters believed the exaggerated claims that the Kikusui attacks had crippled the US fleet. Wishful thinking. While the Fifth Fleet may have been battered and bruised by the kamikaze onslaught, they were too massive of a force to deter. The fleet endured the worst of these endless air attacks. They never wavered from their primary mission of supporting Okinawa’s amphibious assault.

  Naval gunfire support had never been so effective. Over 4,000 tons of munitions were delivered on L-Day. Frontline regiments received direct support from a “call-fire” ship and one illumination ship throughout the campaign. The quantity and quality of naval gunfire was summed up in this message from General Shepherd: “The effectiveness of our naval gunfire support was measured by the large number of Japanese encountered. Dead ones.”

  Even through the most intense Kikusui attacks in early April
, the fleet still unloaded over half a million tons of supplies onto Hagushi’s beaches to support the Tenth Army. They opened the port of Nago by clearing mines and obstacles under fire. The only direct consequence from the massed kamikaze attacks was the April 6 sinking of ammunition ships Hobbs Victory and Logan Victory. This caused a shortage of 155mm artillery and delayed General Buckner’s first offensive against Shuri by three days. But the Fifth Fleet deserved its nickname “The fleet that came to stay.”

  But as April dragged into May, the Tenth Army was bogged down because of lackluster frontal assaults along the Shuri line. Admiral Spruance pressured General Buckner to speed up his attack to reduce the fleet’s vulnerability. Nimitz was concerned and flew to Okinawa to “counsel” Buckner. Nimitz said: “we’re losing a ship and a half each day we’re out here. You gotta get this thing moving.”

  Senior Marine commanders urged Buckner to play the “amphib card” and execute a massive landing on the southeast coast to turn the enemy’s right flank. Several Army generals agreed with this recommendation and mentioned that continuing to assault Shuri with frontal assaults was like putting forces through a meatgrinder.

  General Vandegrift, Commandant of the Marine Corps, visited the island and seconded the recommendations given to Buckner. Vandegrift pointed out that Buckner still controlled the 2nd Marines. This veteran amphibious outfit had already demonstrated its capability against the Minatoga Beaches on L-Day. Buckner had sent the 2nd Marine Division to Saipan to reduce their vulnerability from kamikaze attacks. But the 2nd Division still had combat-loaded ships at hand and could have opened a second front in Okinawa within days.

  General Buckner was a capable and popular commander, but his experience with amphibious warfare was limited. His staff warned of a potential logistical nightmare in opening a second front. His intelligence predicted stiff resistance around the Minatoga beachhead. Buckner knew the high cost of the bloody Anzio operation and the consequences of an amphibious landing far from the main effort. Buckner believed the defenses on Shuri would soon crack under a coordinated application of his massive infantry firepower. Buckner rejected the amphibious option. Admirals’ Nimitz and Sherman agreed. But not Admirals Turner and Spruance or the Marines.

  Spruance wrote in a private letter: “There are times when I was impatient for some of Holland Smith’s drive.”

  And General Shepherd stated: “General Buckner did not cotton to amphibious operations.”

  Even Colonel Yahara of the Thirty-second Army, conceded later under interrogation that he’d been puzzled by the adherence to a wholly frontal assault from north to south: “The absence of a landing in the south puzzled the Thirty-second Army. Especially after the beginning of May, when it was impossible to put up anything more than a token resistance in the south.”

  But by then, the 2nd Marine Division was feeling like a yo-yo preparing for their assigned missions. Colonel Samuel Taxis had sharp words after the war about Buckner’s decision. “I will always feel that the Tenth Army should’ve been prepared the instant they were found bogged down. They should’ve thrown a left hook down there in the southern beaches. They had one hell of a powerful reinforced division down there—trained to a gnat’s whisker.”

  General Buckner stood by his decision. There was to be no “left hook.” Instead, both the 1st and 6th Divisions joined in the Shuri offensive as infantry divisions under the Tenth Army, and the 2nd Division would remain in Saipan.

  Blowtorch and Corkscrew

  According to the Tenth Army’s after-action report: “Japanese defensive efforts and continued development and improvement of cave warfare was the most outstanding feature of enemy tactics on Okinawa.”

  General Ushijima selected the best terrain to defend the Shuri highlands across the southern neck of the island. His troops dominated two of Okinawa’s strategic features: the sheltered anchorage of Nakagusuku bay (later called Buckner Bay) to the east, and the port of Naha to the west. Because of this, Allied troops would have to force their way into the enemy’s preregistered killing zones to secure their objectives.

  Everything about the terrain favored the defenders. The elaborate topography of ridges, draws, and escarpments grouped the battlefield into sections of small unit firefights. The lack of dense vegetation gave the Japanese troops full, interlocking fire and observation from immediate strong points.

  Like Iwo Jima, the enemy fought primarily from underground positions to counteract the Allied supremacy in supporting arms. The enemy modified thousands of concrete Okinawa tombs to use as combat outposts. While there were blind spots in the defenses, finding and exploiting them was costly in time and blood.

  The most savage fighting of the campaign took place on a compressed battlefield. The distance from Yonabaru on the east coast to the Asa River bridge on the other side of the island was only 9,000 yards. General Buckner advanced abreast with two Army divisions. By May 8, he’d doubled his force by adding two Marine divisions from IIIAC and sent them west. His two XXIV Corps Army Divisions were sent east. Each of these divisions fought brutal, bloody battles against disciplined enemy soldiers defending entrenched and fortified terrain.

  By rejecting the amphibious flanking plan in late April, Buckner had fresh divisions ready to deploy and join the general offensive against Shuri. The 77th relieved the 96th in the center, and the 1st Marine Division relieved the 27th Infantry in the west. Colonel Ken Chappell’s 1st Marines entered the lines on April 30 and took heavy fire the moment they approached. When the 5th Marines arrived to supplement the relief, enemy gunners were pounding anything that moved.

  PFC Eugene Sledge later wrote: “It was hell in there. We raced across an open field with Jap shells screaming and roaring around us with increasing frequency. The thunder and crash of explosions was a nightmare. I was terribly afraid.”

  General del Valle took command of the western zone on May 1 at 1400. He issued orders for a major assault the following morning. That evening, a staff officer brought a captured Japanese map annotated with all the American positions. Del Valle realized that the enemy already knew where the 1st Marine Division had entered the fight.

  At dawn, Marines attacked into a jagged country (known as the Awacha Pocket). With all their combat expertise, Marines were no more immune to the relentless storm of shells and bullets than the soldiers they relieved. This frustrating day was a forewarning of future conditions. It rained hard as Marines secured the closest high ground. They came under such intense fire from nearby strongholds and other higher ground that they had to retreat. Dozens of Japanese infiltrators snuck up on the withdrawing Marines and engaged them in savage hand-to-hand combat. According to a Marine survivor: “That, was a bitch.”

  The 1st Division’s veterans from Peleliu weren’t strangers to cave warfare. No other division had as much practical experience. While nothing on Okinawa could match the Umurbrogol Pocket’s steep cliffs, heavy vegetation, and array of fortified ridges, the “Old Breed” of the 1st Division faced a more numerous and smarter enemy. The 1st Division fought through four straight weeks of hell. The funnel created by the cliffs and draws reduced most of the Allied attacks to savage frontal assaults by fully exposed infantry/tank/engineer teams. General Buckner described this small unit fighting as: “a slugging match with temporary and limited opportunity to maneuver.”

  General Buckner captured the media’s imagination with his “blowtorch and corkscrew” tactics needed for successful cave warfare. But to the Marine and Army veterans of Peleliu, Iwo Jima, and Biak, he was just stating the obvious—flamethrowers were the blowtorch and demolitions the corkscrew. But both weapons had to be delivered from close range by tanks and exposed infantry covering them.

  On May 3, the rains finally let up, and the Marines resumed their assault. This time they took and held the first tier of vital terrain in the Awacha Pocket. But even after a methodical reduction of enemy strong points, it would take another full week of fierce fighting. Fire support proved to be an excellent asset. No
w it was the Army’s time to return the favor of inter-service artillery support. The 27th Division’s Field Artillery Regiment stayed on the line with its forward observers and linemen familiar with the terrain.

  Here, Japanese defensive discipline began to crack. General Ushijima encouraged discussion and debate from his staff regarding tactical courses of action. These heated discussions were generally between chief of staff, Lieutenant General Cho and conservative operations officer, Colonel Yahara. So far, Yahara’s strategy of a “delay and bleed” holding action had prevailed. The Thirty-second Army had resisted the massive Allied invasion for over a month. With their Army still intact, they could continue to inflict heavy casualties on their enemies for months while massed kamikaze attacks wreaked havoc on the fleet.

  But maintaining a sustained defense was not Bushido and against General Cho’s code of honor and morals. He argued for a massive counterattack. Against Yahara’s protests, Ushijima sided with General Cho. The great Japanese counterattack of May 4 was ill-advised and foolhardy. Manning the assault forces would forfeit Japanese coverage of the Minatoga sector and bring Ushijima’s troops forward into unfamiliar territory. To deliver the mass of the fire necessary to cover the assault, Ushijima brought most of his mortars and artillery pieces into the open. He planned to use the 26th Shipping Engineer Regiment and other elite forces in a frontal attack. At the same time, a waterborne double envelopment would alert the Allied forces to a massive counteroffensive. Yahara winced in despair.

  General Cho’s recklessness was now clear. Navy “Flycatcher” patrols on both coasts interdicted the first flanking attempts by Japanese raiders in slow-moving barges and canoes. On the west coast, near Kusan, the 1/1 Marines and the 3rd Armored Amphibian Battalion greeted the enemy trying to come ashore with deadly fire—killing 727. Farther down the coast, the 2/1 Marines intercepted and killed another 175, while the 1st Reconnaissance Company and the war dog platoon hunted down and destroyed the last sixty-four men hiding in the brush. The XXIV Corps took the brunt of the overland assault. They scattered the Japanese troops into small groups before ruthlessly shooting them down.