MacA. expected that Admiral Yamamoto, for whom he has great professional admiration, would launch either a two-pronged attack, with one element attacking Midway, or a diversionary feint coinciding with an attack on Midway. He would not have been surprised if there had been a second attack (or a feint) at Port Moresby.
MacA. reasoned that the Japanese loss of the carrier Shoho and the turning of the Port Moresby invasion force in early May had been the first time we‘d actually been able to give the Japanese a bloody nose. For the first time, they had been kept from doing what they had started out to do. Their admirals had lost face. But now they’d had a month to regroup, lick their wounds, and prepare to strike again. They could regain face by taking Port Moresby, and that would have put their Isolate Australia plan back on track.
He was surprised when the Magic messages began to suggest an attack on the Aleutians. He grilled me at length about the Aleutians, whether there was something there he hadn’t heard about. He simply cannot believe the Japanese want to invade Alaska. What could they get out of Alaska that would be worth the logistical cost of landing there? MacA. asks. Their supply lines would not only be painfully long, but would be set up like a shooting gallery for interdiction from the United States and Canada.
He therefore concluded that the attack on the Aleutians, which came on June 3, was a feint intended to draw our Naval forces off; that the Japs believe that the Americans would place a greater emotional value on the Aleutians than was the case; and that we would rise to the bait. MacA. predicted this would be a miscalculation on their part.
"Nimitz is no fool!" he said. "He doesn’t care about the Aleutians. "
Events, of course, proved him right. We learned from Magic intercepts that Admiral Nagumo (and thus the entire Japanese fleet) was very surprised on 4 June, when his reconnaissance aircraft reported seeing a large American Naval force to the northeast of Midway.
We later learned-from Magic!-that these were the aircraft carriersYorktown , Enterprise, andHornet, under Admirals Spruance and Fletcher. We were getting our information about the movements of our own fleet from Japanese intercepts, via Hawaii, before we were getting reports from the Navy. MacA. is convinced, in the absence of any other reason to the contrary, that the Navy believes that the war in the Pacific is a Navy war, and consequently they have no obligation to tell him what’s happening.
I have a recommendation here: I strongly recommend that you direct Nimitz (or have King direct Nimitz) to assign one commander or captain the sole duty of keeping MacA. posted on what’s going on while it’s happening-not just when the Navy finds it convenient to tell him.
We learned (again via Magic intercepts) that the Japanese came under attack by torpedo bombers at 0930 4 June. The aircraft carriersHiryu, Kaga, Soryu, andAkagi all reported to Yamamoto that they were relatively unhurt, and that the American losses were severe. Then came a report fromHirvu, saying she had been severely damaged by American dive bombers . Nothing was intercepted from any of the others.
Then there were Magic intercepts of Yamamoto‘s orders to the fleet to withdraw.
And then, many hours later, we heard from the Navy, and learned that the carriersSorvu. Kacra. andAkagi had been sunk, and that we had lost the carrierYorktown. It was a day later that we learned that theHirvu was sunk that next morning, and about the terrible losses and incredible courage of the Navy torpedo bomber pilots who had attacked the Japanese carriers. And that Marine Fighter Squadron VMF-211, land-based on Midway, had lost fifteen of its twenty-five pilots; in effect it had been wiped out.
The Japanese seem to have suffered more than just their first beating; it was also a very bad mauling. And MacA. sent what I thought were rather touching messages to Nimitz, Spruance, and Fletcher, expressing his admiration and congratulations.
And today he sent a long cable to Marshall, asking permission to attack New Britain and New Ireland (in other words, to take out the Japanese base at Rabaul) with the U.S. 32ndand 41stDivisions and the Australian 7thDivision. To do so would mean that the Navy would have to provide him both with vessels capable of making and supporting an amphibious invasion, and with aircraft carriers. I don’ t think he really expects the Navy to give him what he asks for. But not to ask for the operation-indeed fight for it, and the necessary support for it from the Navy-would be tantamount to giving in to the notion that the Navy owns the war over here.
I won’ t presume to suggest who is right, but I frankly think it is a tragedy that the Army and the Navy should be at each other’s throats like this.
I mentioned earlier on in this report that Banning has developed a good relationship with the Australian Coastwatchers. Early this morning, the RAAF parachuted two Marines, a lieutenant and a sergeant, and a replacement radio, onto Buka Island, north of Bougainville, where the Coastwatcher’s radio had gone out. Loss of reports from the observation post was so critical that great risks to get it up and running again were considered justified. The only qualified (radio operator, parachutist) Marine was eighteen years old. And that is all he can do. He can’t tell one Japanese aircraft from another, or a destroyer from a battleship. So one of Banning’s lieutenants, Joe Howard, a Mustang, who had taught aircraft/ship recognition, volunteered to parachute in, too, although he had never jumped before. Banning confided to me that he thought he had one chance in four or five of making a successful landing.
The Lockheed Hudson that was to drop them was never heard from. We took the worst-possible-case scenario, and decided it had been shot down by Japanese fighters on the way in and that everyone was lost. Banning immediately asked for volunteers to try it again.All of his men volunteered.
As I was writing this, Banning came in with the news that Buka was back on the air. The Lockheed had been shot down on the way home. With contact reestablished, the RAN people here had routinely asked for "traffic." This is what they got, verbatim: "Please pass Ensign Barbara Cotter, USNR, and Yeoman Daphne Farnsworth, RAN. We love you and hope to see you soon. Joe and Steve. "
Those boys obviously think we‘re going to win the war. Maybe, Frank, if we can get the admirals and the generals to stop acting like adolescents, we can.
Respectfully,
Fleming Pickering, Captain USNR
TOP SECRET
(Six)
Menzies Hotel
Melbourne, Victoria
16 June 1942
Lieutenant Hon Song Do, Signal Corps, Army of the United States, was sitting in one of the chairs lining the hotel corridor when Captain Fleming Pickering, USNR, stepped off the elevator. Captain Pickering had just finished dining, enfamille, with the Commander-in-Chief and Mrs. Douglas MacArthur. Over cognac afterward, General MacArthur had talked at some length about the German campaign in Russia. The dissertation had again impressed Captain Pickering with the incredible scope of MacArthur’s mind; and the four snifters of Remy Martin had left him feeling just a little bit tight.
"Well, hello, Lieutenant," Pickering said when he saw Lieutenant Hon. Hon sometimes made him feel slightly ill at ease. For one thing, he didn’t know what to call him. Something in his mind told him that "Hon" was, in the American sense, his last name. He could not, in other words, do what he had long ago learned how to do with other junior officers; he couldn’t put him at ease by calling him by his first name, or even better, by his nickname. He simply didn’t know what it was.
And Lieutenant Hon was not what ordinarily came to Pickering’s mind when "Asian-American" or "Korean-American" was mentioned. For one thing, he was a very large man, nearly as tall and heavy as Pickering; and for another, he had a deep voice with a thick Boston accent. And on top of this, he was what Pickering thought of as an egghead. He was a theoretical mathematician. He had been commissioned as a mathematician, and he’d originally been assigned to Signal Intelligence as a mathematician. Only afterward had the Army learned that he was a Japanese linguist.
"Good evening, Sir," Lieutenant Hon said, rising to his feet. "I have a rather interesting decrypt for
you, Sir."
"Why didn’t you bring it downstairs?"
"I didn’t think it was quite important enough for me to have to intrude on the Commander-in-Chief s dinner."
Pickering looked at him. There was a smile in Lieutenant Hon’s eyes.
"Well, come on in, and I’ll buy you a drink," Pickering said, then added, "Lieutenant, I think I know you well enough to call you by your first name."
"I wouldn’t do that, Sir," Lieutenant Hon said dryly. " ‘Do’ doesn’t lend itself to English as a first name. Why don’t you call me Pluto?"
"Pluto?"
"Yes, Sir. That’s what I’ve been called for years. After Mickey Mouse’s friend, the dog with the sad face?"
"OK," Pickering chuckled. "Pluto it is."
He snapped the lights on.
"What will you have to drink, Pluto?"
"Is there any of that Old Grouse Scotch, Sir?"
"Should be several bottles of it. Why don’t you give me the decrypt and make us both one? I think there’s a can of peanuts in the drawer under the bar, too. Why don’t you open that?"
"Thank you, Sir," Pluto Hon said, and handed Pickering a sealed manila envelope.
Pickering tore it open. Inside was atop secret cover sheet, and below that a sheet of typewriter paper.
NOT LOGGED
ONE COPY ONLY
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
FOLLOWING IS DECRYPTION OF MSG 234545 RECEIVED 061742
OFFICE SECNAVY WASHDC 061642 1300 GREENWICH
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF SOUTHWEST PACIFIC
EYES ONLY CAPTAIN FLEMING PICKERING USNR REF YOUR 8 JUNE 1942 REPORT
SECNAVY REPLIES QUOTE
PART ONE YES
PART TWO YOUR FRIEND BEING INVITED HAWAIIAN PARTY
PART THREE BEST PERSONAL REGARDS SIGNATURE FRANK
END QUOTE
HAUGHTON CAPT USN ADMIN OFF TO SECNAVY
Pickering walked to the bar. Pluto was just about finished making the drinks.
"A little cryptic, even decrypted, isn’t it?" he said to Pluto, taking the extended drink.
Pluto chuckled. "I don’t think it’s likely, but even if the Japs have broken the Blue Code, their analysts are going to have a hell of a time making anything out of that."
"Would you care to guess, Pluto?"
"There was a message from the JCS adding General Willoughby to the Albatross list. Am I getting warm?"
Pickering smiled and nodded.
"I have no idea what ‘Yes’ means," Pluto Hon said. .
"I asked for permission to give Major Banning access to Magic intercepts" Pickering said. "What I decide to show him. I didn’t ask that he be put on the Albatross list."
Pluto nodded. "Are you going to want that logged, Sir?"
Pickering shook his head, then took out his cigarette lighter and burned the sheet of typewriter paper, holding it over a wastebasket until it was consumed.
Lieutenant Pluto Hon refused a second drink and left. Pickering went to bed.
In the morning, at breakfast, Major General Willoughby walked over to Captain Pickering’s table in the Menzies Hotel dining room and sat down with him. A large smile was on his face.
"Have you had a chance to read the overnight Magics yet, Pickering?"
"No, Sir," Captain Pickering said.
"You should have a look. Very interesting."
General Willoughby looked very pleased with himself.
(Seven)
The Elms
Dandenong, Victoria, Australia
1825 Hours 1 July 1942
It was windy; and there was a cold and unpleasant rain. As Captain Fleming Pickering drove the drop-head Jaguar coupe under the arch of winter-denuded elms toward the house, he was thinking unkind thoughts about the British.
As cold as it gets in England, and as much as this car must have cost, it would seem reasonable to expect that the windshield wipers would work, and the heater, and that the goddamned top wouldn’t leak.
As he neared the house and saw Banning’s Studebaker, his mind turned to unkind thoughts about Major Ed Banning, USMC.
He didn’t know what he was doing here, except that he would be meeting "a friend" and somebody else Banning wanted to introduce him to. Banning, on the telephone, acted as if he was sure the line was tapped by the Japanese, even if all he was discussing was goddamned dinner. No details. Just cryptic euphemisms.
And I will bet ten dollars to a doughnut that both "a friend" and "somebody else" are going to be people I would rather not see.
He got out of the car and ran through the drizzle up onto the porch.
Mrs. Cavendish answered his ring with a warm smile.
"Oh, good evening, Captain," she said. "How are you tonight?"
"Wet and miserable, Mrs. Cavendish, how about you?"
She laughed. "A little nip will fix you right up," she said. "The other gentlemen are in the library."
I had no right to snap at her, and no reason to be annoyed with Banning. For all I know the goddamned phoneis tapped. Maybe by Willoughby. And it is absurd to fault an intelligence officer for having a closed mouth. You are acting like a curmudgeonly old man. Or perhaps a younger man, suffering from sexual deprivation.
The latter thought, he realized, had been triggered by the perversity of his recent erotic dreams. He had had four of them over not too many more nights than that. Only one had involved the female he was joined with in holy matrimony. A second had involved a complete stranger who had, in his dream, exposed her breasts to him in a Menzies Hotel elevator, then made her desires known with a lewd wink. The other two had been nearly identical: Ellen Feller had stood at the side of his bed, undressed slowly, and then mounted him.
"I didn’t mean to snap at you, Mrs. Cavendish," Pickering said.
"I didn’t know that you had," she said, smiling, as she took his coat.
He walked down the corridor to the library and pushed the door open.
"I will be damned," he said, smiling. It really was a friend. "How are you, Jake?"
Major Jake Dillon, USMC, crossed the room to him, smiling, shook his hand, and then hugged him.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Dillon said. "Patricia’s sitting at home knitting scarfs and gloves for you, imagining you living in some leaking tent; and here you are, living like the landed gentry-even including a Jaguar."
"If I detect a broad suggestion of jealousy, I’m glad," Pickering said. "I see you’re already into my booze."
"Banning took care of that, after I told him how dry it was all the way from the States to Wellington, New Zealand."
"That was probably good for you. I’m sure you hadn’t been sober that long in years. You came with the 1stDivision?" Headquarters, 1stMarine Division, and the entire 5thMarines had debarked at Wellington, New Zealand, on June 14, 1942.
"All the way. And it was a very long way. The ship was not the Pacific Princess. The cuisine and accommodations left a good deal to be desired."
"What are you doing here? And where did you meet Ed Banning?"
"Here. Tonight. He’s a friend of Colonel Goettge."
"Who’s Colonel Goettge?"
"I am, Sir," a voice said, and Pickering turned. Banning and a tall, muscular Marine colonel had come into the library from the kitchen. "I suspect that I may be imposing."
"Nonsense," Pickering said, crossing to him and offering his hand. "Any friend of Banning’s, etcetera etcetera."
"Very kind of you, Captain," Goettge said.
"Also of Jack Stecker’s," Jake Dillon said. "It was Jack’s idea that I come along. He sends his regards."
"So far, Colonel," Pickering said, "that’s two good guys out of three. But how did you get hung up with this character?"
"Watch it, Flem. I’ll arrange to have you photographed being wetly kissed by a bare-breasted aborigine maiden, and send eight-by-ten glossies to Patricia."
"He would, too," Pickering said, laughing. "Colonel, you’re in dangerous company."
"Colo
nel Goettge is the 1stDivision G-2, Captain Pickering,"
Banning said. "He was sent here to gather intelligence on certain islands in the Solomons."
Pickering met Banning’s eye for a moment. They both knew more about pending operations in the Solomon Islands than Colonel Goettge was supposed to know, even though he was G-2 of the 1stMarine Division.
Pickering was worried, however, about how much Goettge actually knew.
On Friday, June 19, twelve days before, Vice-Admiral Robert L. Ghormley, USN, had activated his headquarters at Auckland, New Zealand, and become Commander, South Pacific, subordinate to Admiral Nimitz at Pearl Harbor.
The Corps 03 - Counterattack Page 54