The Second World War

by Winston S. Churchill

  Far off to the north-east General Sultan was also on the move, and by mid-March he had reached the road from Lashio to Mandalay. But Chiang Kai-shek now imposed a halt. He would not allow his Chinese divisions to continue. He insisted on removing them and suggested that General Slim should halt his advance when Mandalay was taken. This was precisely what Mountbatten had feared when he made his plans a month before, and in the event the Japanese were able to take two of their three divisions from this front and march them against our Fourteenth Army.

  The conjoint battles of Mandalay and Meiktila raged through March. Mandalay was entered on the 9th and Mandalay Hill, 780 feet above the surrounding country, was taken in two days, but the Japanese resisted strongly and the massive walls of Fort Dufferin were impenetrable to ordinary missiles. Finally a breach was made with 2,000-pound bombs, and on the 20th the enemy fled. The rest of XXXIII Corps meanwhile fought on to Meiktila. They met great opposition, as the Japanese Commander-in-Chief, in spite of the intervention of the 17th Division behind his front, showed no signs as yet of withdrawing, and the armies were well matched. But at the end of the month the enemy gave up the struggle and began to fall back down the main road to Toungoo and Rangoon, and through the mountains to the east.

  The battles, however, had lasted much longer than we expected. General Sultan was halted on the Lashio road, and there was now no prospect of the Fourteenth Army reaching Rangoon by mid-April. Indeed, it was very doubtful if they could get there before the monsoon. Mountbatten accordingly decided to make an amphibious assault on the town after all. This would have to be much smaller than we had hoped, and even so it could not be launched before the first week in May. By then it might be too late.

  General Slim was nevertheless determined not only to reach Rangoon but to draw a double net down Southern Burma and trap the enemy within it. XXXIII Corps from Meiktila accordingly drove down the Irrawaddy with overlapping thrusts and reached Prome on May 2. IV Corps, victors at Imphal and Mandalay, advanced even more swiftly along the road and the railway to the east. An armoured column, and the mechanised brigades of the 5th and 17th Divisions, leap-frogging over each other, reached Toungoo on April 22. The next bound was to Pegu, whose capture would close the enemy’s southernmost escape route from Lower Burma. Our advance troops reached it on April 29. That afternoon torrential rain fell, heralding an early monsoon. Forward air-strips were out of action; tanks and vehicles could not move off the roads. The Japanese mustered every possible man to hold the town and the bridges over the river. On May 2 the 17th Division finally broke through, and, hoping to be first in Rangoon, prepared to advance the few remaining miles.

  But May 2 was also the D Day of the amphibious assault. For two days beforehand Allied heavy bombers attacked the defences which barred the entrance to Rangoon River. On May 1 a parachute battalion dropped on the defenders and the channel was opened for minesweeping. Next day ships of the 26th Division, supported by 224 Group R.A.F., reached the river-mouth. A Mosquito aircraft flew over Rangoon and saw no signs of the enemy. The crew landed at a near-by airfield, walked into the city, and were greeted by a number of our prisoners of war. In the belief that an amphibious attack was no longer likely, the Japanese garrison had departed some days before to hold Pegu. That afternoon the monsoon broke in all its violence, and Rangoon fell with only a few hours to spare.

  The amphibious force soon reached up to Pegu and to Prome. Many thousands of Japanese were trapped, and during the next three months great numbers perished in attempts to escape eastwards. Thus ended a long struggle in which the Fourteenth Army had fought valiantly, overcome all obstacles, and achieved the seemingly impossible.

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE BATTLE OF LEYTE GULF

  OCEAN war against Japan had also reached its climax. From the Bay of Bengal to the Central Pacific Allied maritime power was in the ascendant. The organisation and production of the United States were in full stride, and had attained astonishing proportions. A single example may suffice to illustrate the size and success of the American effort. In the autumn of 1942 only three American aircraft-carriers were afloat; a year later there were fifty; by the end of the war there were more than a hundred. This achievement had been matched by an increase in aircraft production which was no less remarkable. The advance of these great forces was animated by an aggressive strategy and an elaborate, novel, and effective tactic. The task which confronted them was formidable.

  A chain of island-groups, nearly two thousand miles long, stretches southward across the Pacific from Japan to the Marianas and the Carolines. Many of these islands had been fortified by the enemy and equipped with good airfields, and at the southernmost end of the chain was the Japanese naval base of Truk. Behind this shield of archipelagos lay Formosa, the Philippines, and China, and in its shelter ran the supply routes for the more advanced enemy positions. It was thus impossible to invade or bomb Japan itself. The chain must be broken first. It would take too long to conquer and subdue every fortified island, and the Americans had accordingly advanced leap-frog fashion. They seized only the more important islands and by-passed the rest; but their maritime strength was now so great and was growing so fast that they were able to establish their own lines of communication and break the enemy’s, leaving the defenders of the by-passed islands immobile and powerless. Their method of assault was equally successful. First came softening attacks by planes from the aircraft-carriers, then heavy and sometimes prolonged bombardment from the sea, and finally amphibious landing and the struggle ashore. When an island had been won and garrisoned land-based planes moved in and beat off counterattacks. At the same time they helped in the next onward surge. The fleets worked in echelons. While one group waged battle another prepared for a new leap. This needed very large resources, not only for the fighting, but also for developing bases along the line of advance. The Americans took it all in their stride.

  By June 1944 the two-pronged American thrust across the Pacific was well advanced. In the south-west General MacArthur had nearly completed his conquest of New Guinea, and in the centre Admiral Nimitz was pressing deep into the chain of fortified islands. Both were converging on the Philippines, and the struggle for this region was soon to bring about the destruction of the Japanese Fleet. It had already been much weakened and was very short of carriers, but Japan’s only hope of survival lay in victory at sea. To conserve her strength for this perilous but vital hazard the main body had withdrawn from Truk and was now divided between the East Indies and her home waters; but events soon brought it to battle. At the beginning of June Admiral Spruance struck with his carriers at the Marianas, and on the 15th he landed on the fortified island of Saipan. If he captured Saipan and the adjacent islands of Tinian and Guam the enemy’s defence perimeter would be broken. The threat was formidable, and the Japanese Fleet resolved to intervene. That day five of their battleships and nine carriers were sighted near the Philippines, heading east. Spruance had ample time to make his dispositions. His main purpose was to protect the landing at Saipan. This he did. He then gathered his ships, fifteen of which were carriers, and waited for the enemy to the west of the island. On June 19 Japanese carrier-borne aircraft attacked the American carrier fleet from all directions, and air-fighting continued throughout the day. The Americans suffered little damage, and so shattered the Japanese air squadrons that their carriers had to withdraw.

  That night Spruance searched in vain for the vanished enemy. Late in the afternoon of the 20th he found them about 250 miles away. Attacking just before sunset, the American airmen sank one carrier and damaged four others, besides a battleship and a heavy cruiser. The previous day American submarines had sunk two other large carriers. No further attack was possible, and remnants of the enemy fleet managed to escape, but its departure sealed the fate of Saipan. Though the garrison fought hard the landings continued, the build-up progressed, and by July 9 all organised resistance came to an end. The neighbouring islands of Guam and Tinian were overcome, and by the first day
s of August the American grip on the Marianas was complete.

  The fall of Saipan was a great shock to the Japanese High Command, and led indirectly to the dismissal of General Tojo’s Government. The enemy’s concern was well founded. The fortress was little more than 1,300 miles from Tokyo. They had believed it was impregnable; now it was gone. Their southern defence regions were cut off and the American heavy bombers had gained a first-class base for attacking the very homeland of Japan. For a long time United States submarines had been sinking Japanese merchantmen along the China coast, and now the way was open for other warships to join in the onslaught. Japan’s oil and raw materials would be cut off if the Americans advanced any farther. The Japanese Fleet was still powerful, but unbalanced, and so weak in destroyers, carriers, and air-crews that it could no longer fight effectively without land-based planes. Fuel was scarce, and not only hampered training but made it impossible to keep the ships concentrated in one place, so that in the late summer most of the heavy vessels and cruisers lay near Singapore and the oil supplies of the Dutch East Indies, while the few surviving carriers remained in home waters, where their new air groups were completing their training.

  The plight of the Japanese Army was little better. Though still strong in numbers, it sprawled over China and South-East Asia or languished in remote islands beyond reach of support. The more sober-minded of the enemy leaders began to look for some way of ending the war; but their military machine was too strong for them. The High Command brought reinforcements from Manchuria and ordered a fight to the finish both in Formosa and the Philippines. Here and in the homeland the troops would die where they stood. The Japanese Admiralty were no less resolute. If they lost the impending battle for the islands the oil from the East Indies would be cut off. There was no purpose, they argued, in preserving ships without fuel. Steeled for sacrifice but hopeful of victory, they decided in August to send the entire Fleet into battle.

  On September 15 the Americans made another advance. General MacArthur seized Morotai Island, midway between the western tip of New Guinea and the Philippines, and Admiral Halsey, who had now assumed command of the United States naval forces, captured an advanced base for his fleet in the Palau group. These simultaneous moves were of high importance. At the same time Halsey continually probed the enemy’s defences with his whole force. Thus he hoped to provoke a general action at sea which would enable him to destroy the Japanese Fleet, particularly its surviving carriers. The next leap would be at the Philippines themselves, and there now occurred a dramatic change in the American plan. Till then our Allies had purposed to invade the southernmost portion of the Philippines, the island of Mindanao, and planes from Halsey’s carriers had already attacked the Japanese airfields both there and in the large northern island of Luzon. They destroyed large numbers of enemy aircraft, and discovered in the clash of combat that the Japanese garrison at Leyte was unexpectedly weak. This small but now famous island, lying between the two larger but strategically less important land masses of Mindanao and Luzon, became the obvious point for the American descent. On September 13, while the Allies were still in conference at Quebec, Admiral Nimitz, at Halsey’s suggestion, urged its immediate invasion. MacArthur agreed, and within two days the American Chiefs of Staff resolved to attack on October 20, two months earlier than had been planned. Such was the genesis of the Battle of Leyte Gulf.

  The Americans opened the campaign on October 10 with raids on airfields between Japan and the Philippines. Devastating and repeated attacks on Formosa provoked the most violent resistance, and from the 12th to the 16th there followed a heavy and sustained air battle between ship-borne and land-based aircraft. The Americans inflicted grievous losses both in the air and on the ground, but suffered little themselves, and their carrier fleet withstood powerful land-based air attack. The result was decisive. The enemy’s Air Force was broken before the battle for Leyte was joined. Many Japanese naval aircraft destined for the fleet carriers were improvidently sent to Formosa as reinforcements and there destroyed. Thus in the supreme naval battle which now impended the Japanese carriers were manned by little more than a hundred partially trained pilots.

  To comprehend the engagements which followed a study of the accompanying maps is necessary. The two large islands of the Philippines, Luzon in the north and Mindanao in the south, are separated by a group of smaller islands, of which Leyte is the key and centre. This central group is pierced by two navigable straits, both destined to dominate this famous battle. The northerly strait is San Bernardino, and about 200 miles south of it, leading directly to Leyte, is the strait of Surigao. The Americans, as we have seen, intended to seize Leyte, and the Japanese were resolved to stop them and to destroy their fleet. The plan was simple and desperate. Four divisions under General Mac-Arthur would land on Leyte, protected by the guns and planes of the American fleet—so much they knew or guessed. Draw off this fleet, entice it far to the north, and engage it in a secondary battle—such was the first step. But this would be only a preliminary. As soon as the main fleet was lured away two strong columns of warships would sail through the straits, one through San Bernardino and the other through Surigao, and converge on the landings. All eyes would be on the shores of Leyte, all guns trained on the beaches, and the heavy ships and the big aircraft-carriers which alone could withstand the assault would be chasing the decoy force in the far north. The plan very nearly succeeded.

  On October 17 the Japanese Commander-in-Chief ordered his fleet to set sail. The decoy force, under Admiral Ozawa, the Supreme Commander, sailing direct from Japan, steered for Luzon. It was a composite force, including carriers, battleships, cruisers, and destroyers. Ozawa’s task was to appear on the eastern coast of Luzon, engage the American fleet, and draw it away from the landings in Leyte Gulf. The carriers were short of both planes and pilots, but no matter. They were only bait, and bait is made to be eaten. Meanwhile the main Japanese striking forces made for the straits. The larger, or what may be termed the Centre Force, coming from Singapore, and consisting of five battleships, twelve cruisers, and fifteen destroyers, under Admiral Kurita, headed for San Bernardino to curl round Samar Island to Leyte; the smaller, or Southern Force, in two independent groups, comprising in all two battleships, four cruisers, and eight destroyers, sailed through Surigao.

  On October 20 the Americans landed on Leyte. At first all went well. Resistance on shore was weak, a bridgehead was quickly formed, and General MacArthur’s troops began their advance. They were supported by Admiral Kinkaid’s Seventh United States Fleet, which was under MacArthur’s command, and whose older battleships and small aircraft-carriers were well suited to amphibious operations. Further away to the northward lay Admiral Halsey’s main fleet, shielding them from attack by sea.

  The crisis however was still to come. On October 23 American submarines sighted the Japanese Centre Force (Admiral Kurita) off the coast of Borneo and sank two of his heavy cruisers, one of which was Kurita’s flagship, and damaged a third. Next day, October 24, planes from Admiral Halsey’s carriers joined in the attack. The giant battleship Musashi, mounting nine eighteen-inch guns, was sunk, other vessels were damaged, and Kurita turned back. The reports of the American airmen were optimistic and perhaps misleading, and Halsey concluded, not without reason, that the battle was won, or at any rate this part of it. He knew that the second or Southern enemy force was approaching the Surigao Strait, but he judged, and rightly, that it could be repelled by Kinkaid’s Seventh Fleet.

  But one thing disturbed him. During the day he had been attacked by Japanese naval planes. Many of them were shot down, but the carrier Princeton was damaged and had later to be abandoned. The planes, he reasoned, probably came from carriers. It was most unlikely that the enemy had sailed without them, yet none had been found. The main Japanese fleet, under Kurita, had been located, and was apparently in retreat, but Kurita had no carriers, neither were there any in the Southern Force. Surely there must be a carrier force, and it was imperative to find it. He acco
rdingly ordered a search to the north, and late in the afternoon of October 24 his flyers came upon Admiral Ozawa’s decoy force, far to the north-east of Luzon and steering south. Four carriers, two battleships equipped with flying decks, three cruisers, and ten destroyers! Here, he concluded, was the source of trouble and the real target. If he could now destroy these carriers, he and his Chief of Staff, Admiral Carney, rightly considered that the power of the Japanese fleet to intervene in future operations would be broken irretrievably. This was a dominating factor in his mind, and would be of particular advantage when MacArthur came later to attack Luzon. Halsey could not know how frail was their power, nor that most of the attacks he had endured came not from carriers at all but from airfields in Luzon itself. Kurita’s Centre Force was in retreat. Kinkaid could cope with the Southern Force and protect the landings at Leyte, the way was clear for a final blow, and Halsey ordered his whole fleet to steam northward and destroy Admiral Ozawa next day. Thus he fell into the trap. That same afternoon, October 24, Kurita again turned east, and sailed once more for the San Bernardino Strait. This time there was nothing to stop him.

  BATTLE FOR LEYTE (HILF, PHILIPPINES: APPROACH AND CONTACT, OCTOBER 22–24, 1944