by Lars Teeney
But, Burke worried about his performance this day, due to lack of sleep. Anxiety and Private Jones’ snoring had been the culprits. Jones laid below Burke and was still sound asleep. Burke tried other methods of getting back to sleep, and none worked. But, eventually he thought back to his meeting with Greta Sanchez: the nurse from Washington D.C. He had thought about their time together and had slowly drifted off to sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping for more than ten minutes when the emergency klaxon rang out. The entire crew quarters erupted in chaos as men jumped from their bunks, to get themselves dressed and presentable. Burke was one of the last men up, but he willed himself to move, soon joining the other sailors in the scramble.
The sailors had all filed out of the crew quarters and were en route to action stations all over the ship. Burke and Jones had taken their places within the forward mark seven turret and began their pre-battle checks. They eventually got the turret guns into firing readiness and then waiting for further orders.
Meanwhile back on the bridge, Captain McCann had been informed that reconnaissance aircraft had spotted the Japanese Northern Force. The Iowa and its sister battleships had been steaming at top speed to catch up to the Northern Force. It was not difficult to outpace their own carriers. The additional speed was needed because Admiral Halsey was not going to let the Japanese carriers slip away this time. Captain McCann soon received word that spotters high up on an observation post, had caught sight of the profiles of Japanese ships on the horizon. Captain McCann ordered the communications officer to relay the information throughout the fleet and back to Admiral Halsey. The Captain could hardly contain the desire to engage his query.
The picket line of fast battleships assumed a miles-long chevron formation, in anticipation of enemy contact. The Captain could see the enemy fleet more clearly as the battleships closed the distance. Suddenly the communications officer shouted for the Captain’s attention,
“Captain McCann, sir! We’ve received new orders from Admiral Halsey’s command ship. A Japanese fleet that had been reported to have retreated after a submarine ambush at the Palawan Passage, apparently did not. The fleet was spotted slipping through the San Bernardino Strait by patrol boats. They’re now steaming for the landing forces at Leyte! The Admiral has ordered us to split our battleship and destroyer forces and return to Leyte Gulf to engage!” the communications ensign reported.
“Shit! Do you have the paper dispatch? Give it to me!” Captain McCann ordered. The communications ensign handed the paper printout to Captain McCann, who read the dispatch, promptly cursed, and discarded the paper. The orders from the Admiral were relayed throughout Task Force Thirty-eight, and the battleship and destroyer forces were halved. A complex maneuver was carried out, all in full view of the Japanese Northern Force. The Iowa made a complete one hundred and eighty-degree turn along with the other ships that would compose this improvised task force. All the carriers would remain in pursuit of the Japanese Northern force.
After the reorganization of task forces had been completed, the Iowa and its group of battleships and destroyers raced south at full steam to intercept the Japanese force that had slyly slipped through the San Bernardino, which was gunning for the barely protected landings at Leyte Gulf. It would be another couple hours travel time before this newly-formed task force could be in attack range, so General Quarters was canceled and the crews were afforded some down time, allowing breakfast to be served in the crew mess of the Iowa.
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“Fire! All turrets!” Captain Inoguchi shouted. The Musashi had turned hard astern, to present a broadside to the few American cruisers that stood between the Japanese Central Force and the American transports. Captain Inoguchi had commanded the Musashi gunners to aim for the lead cruiser. The Musashi let loose a thunderous broadside with its forty-six centimeter, Type Ninety-four guns. The rounds went screaming in an arc for miles toward the lead American cruiser. Three massive water spouts formed as the shells impacted in the water directly around the cruiser. The next three shots were direct hits: one tore through the forward turrets, another raked the side of the hull, tearing a large gash down the side of the ship, the third impact was a hit to the superstructure. The bridge had been demolished. Secondary explosions burst out of the ship when munitions stores were enveloped in fire. The entire ship was a blazing inferno, and it listed and began sinking, bow first. The first kill was bypassed by Inoguchi’s battle line, and each ship picked other targets. The Yamato trained its sights on another cruiser in the American line. The American cruiser detected that it was about to be fired upon and took evasive action, weaving a zigzag pattern into the sea. It could not shake the Yamato and her gunnery crew, which fired a full broadside from her massive guns. Half the shots trailed the ship, sending plumes of water screaming into the air, but the other half of the shells raked the ships hull, destroying everything below deck. The ship limped, then halted completely. Pillars of black smoke rose up from every opening.
The Japanese attack formation steam-rolled on. The Musashi laid into another cruiser, severely damaging her. The cruiser broke off and attempted to break for safe waters, but was destroyed by another Japanese cruiser, which launched a spread of torpedoes that sent the American craft slipping under the waves. A miles long gap in the American line opened, allowing the vanguard of the Japanese strike force to slip through with minimal opposition. The entire landing was now in jeopardy. An American beachhead had already been established, and American Marines had moved inland to make initial contact with the Japanese garrisons, but Inoguchi could destroy the American’s supplies and reinforcements. Inoguchi ordered an American oiler to be targeted. The Musashi fore and aft turrets fired its shells, tearing through the defenseless oiler. A massive fireball was sent skyward and its sludgy cargo bled into the waters of the gulf, which then ignited and fire burnt on water.
A sneaky American cruiser flanked the Yamato and was able to line up her broadside for an attack abeam to the Yamato’s port side. The American cruiser fired a salvo. All the shots were direct hits. The smaller caliber of the American guns could not penetrate the Yamato’s armor; aside from killing some unlucky sailors on anti-aircraft detail, they did no damage. The Yamato traded her broadside and sent rounds through the cruiser that opened it like a can of tuna. The ship went under bow first, with its aft-end sticking high in the air. The Musashi had her sights on an American troop transport ship, that when the Japanese fleet arrived, had been loading Marines into landing craft and sent them ashore. It had suspended operations and attempted to steam away. The Musashi lined up a broadside on the fleeing ship. The resulting volley tore into the transport ship’s stern and shredded the interior, from stern to bow. Hundreds of Marines and support crew perished.
Several Japanese cruisers and destroyers formed up single file and sailed parallel the shoreline and shelled the American beachhead. Men and material were being annihilated. Some Marines on shore turned artillery pieces around to point seaward. They opened fire, sending shots into the attacking Japanese line of cruisers and destroyers. The artillery caliber size was too small to do much damage to the Japanese ships, but it was enough of a suppressive fire to send sailors on deck scrambling for shelter.
The Musashi continued her unstoppable advance that left a trail of flaming wreckage in her wake. Inoguchi had spotted more American transports and oilers that were packed together densely, but they were out of range, miles away. Inoguchi commanded that the Musashi make that formation of American ships her primary target. This course removed her from the main Japanese battle formation. Inoguchi thought that taking these American logistic ships out of action was the only way to stop the landings; it had to be done. Admiral Kurita had sent an order for the Musashi to alter course and return to the formation, but Inoguchi defied it. The Musashi was traveling at full steam to catch the unprotected vessels. Suddenly an ensign on the bridge crew shouted wildly,
“Torpedoes in the water! Torpedoes in the water, bearing off the starboard bow!�
� The Captain’s eyes widened. How could it be?
“Captain, sir! An American air wing has appeared overhead!” another ensign reported.
“Countermeasures and evasive maneuvers!” Captain Inoguchi ordered.
The emergency klaxon sounded throughout the ship, and the crew was advised to brace for impact. The helmsman put the ship into an evasive zigzag course, to churn up its wake. Personnel on the stern dropped a towed acoustic countermeasure into the water behind the Musashi; its purpose was to generate a large amount of noise, much more than the propeller of the Musashi to fool the homing torpedo to target it.
Captain Inoguchi sat in his command chair and braced for impact. There was silence on deck as the anticipation of contact ruled the crew’s minds. The large battleship swayed from side to side as the helmsman did his business. Paper dispatches of orders were still coming in from the Admiral, but Inoguchi could not respond. An explosion was heard in the distance, and an ensign confirmed one torpedo had detonated against the ship’s wake. Another explosion was heard: the second torpedo took the countermeasure’s bait, destroying it meters behind the ship. The last two torpedoes stayed on course, straight for the Musashi.
The third torpedo was a dud and failed to detonate, but the fourth hit home true. The resulting detonation rocked the ship and the bridge erupted in panic.
“Calm down, you men of the Japanese Imperial Navy! You’re aboard the Musashi: the mightiest battleship in our fleet! It’ll take more than one torpedo to harm us!” The Captain attempted to restore order and morale on the bridge. Inoguchi demanded a damage report. The helmsman was having trouble steering the ship. After several moments of confusion, an ensign reported the damage to the Captain,
“Sir! All four propellers are not responding. We’re dead in the water! Damage control teams have been dispatched to the engine rooms to repair the damage.”
A sinking feeling overtook the Captain; this may be the end. He turned and looked at his crew, then went to the pile of dispatches from the Admiral. He picked them up and looked at them one-by-one.
“Cease course, and return to formation. Admiral Kurita,” one read.
“Repeat order. Return to formation. Admiral Kurita,” another read. Several more repeated the same order. The last one was different. It read,
“Large American task force on an intercept course, spotted bearing twenty miles northeast. Admiral Ozawa reports American force split.” The news made Inoguchi heart sink. The only thing left for the Japanese Central Force to do was to break off the attack and make for the San Bernardino Strait to slip away. But, the Musashi was immobile.
“Ensign! Respond to the Admiral! Report to him the damage we have sustained. Inform him that we will cover the fleet’s retreat to the San Bernardino Strait, and act as a rear guard,” Inoguchi ordered. The Captain hoped that they would regain propulsion, so that they could join the Central Force in retreat, but if not he would have the Musashi act as a static fortress. In the meantime, Captain Inoguchi ordered their turrets to attack all American targets within range, continuing her reign of terror.
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Aboard the Iowa, Captain McCann had received the news of the continued devastation being wrought by the lone battleship: Musashi. He received word that the rest of the Japanese attack force had broken off and were heading for the San Bernardino Strait. His ships would not be able to catch them. Captain McCann surmised that the Musashi was covering the retreat. It was doing enough damage to the landing forces at Leyte Beach to make it the number one priority for McCann’s task force. Captain McCann had also received the report that the Musashi was currently immobile: struck by a torpedo plane attack. However, the attack could not be followed up because the Musashi had formidable anti-aircraft defenses. Two planes had been lost attempting another sweep. The job would fall to the Iowa and her task force.
Captain McCann stepped out onto the observation deck, and he could smell the fumes of carnage in the air. Black clouds had risen and formed to intermingle with other condensation in the sky. He could here the exchange of volley fire from ship guns in the distance, and it was getting closer. Further back in the American task force formation was the escort carrier, St. Lo, which was the lone carrier that was assigned to McCann’s force. The St. Lo was scrambling her relatively light, air-wing of twenty-five fighter aircraft. McCann felt that this would be enough to provide immediate air superiority and would assist in defeating the Musashi. After months of hunting the Japanese super battleships and being denied surface action, the showdown was at hand.
Down in the fore, Mark Seven turret, Burke, and Jones were hard at work prepping for fire. Burke wondered what sort of battle they were to be involved in. Men of his rank was never really told anything about that nature of the battle, just that they were needed to keep the salvos going. Burke wished that he had an officer’s rank or that he worked on the bridge so that he could actually witness the battle first-hand, instead of being relegated to shooting in the dark. Burke sat nervously, waiting for the havoc of battle to begin. Thoughts of his home: California, filled his head. Also, he thought of that nurse; he wanted to see her again. So, the waiting continued, and the waiting was always the worst part.
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“Damage report! Get me a status on propulsion! We need it now!” Captain Inoguchi was furious. The Musashi was now being engaged by an entire air-wing from an American escort carrier. The bow had taken a dive bomb that had exploded but had done only minor damage. The anti-aircraft screen still held the attackers at bay, but that last hit was one too many for Inoguchi.
“Sir! Propulsion is back online. The bomb killed three sailors but failed to penetrate the deck,” an ensign shouted.
“Full steam! Take us out of here—set a course for the San Bernardino Strait! Run their infernal blockade!” Captain Inoguchi now acted on instinct. The helmsman set a course straight for the oncoming American picket line. Inoguchi knew that his guns out ranged the smaller American cannon, so he would have the first shots in the coming engagement. Inoguchi gave clearance to gunnery crews to pick targets and to fire at will. The three, type ninety-four turrets turned this way and that, selecting targets independently. Meanwhile, outside on the deck, the flack guns were putting up a withering anti-aircraft screen. The American air wing of twenty-five planes circled just out of range, waited to coordinate the attack with surface vessels. Inoguchi realized that he would only have moments to punch a hole in the American battle line to escape to the safety of the Strait. The Musashi steamed onward to its fate.
At long last some American ships were in range of the Musashi’s guns. The turrets opened fire independently, aiming for three different vessels. The fore turrets gunned for an American destroyer, and its three barrels let loose high-velocity shells. The first two rounds overshot their mark, passing harmlessly overhead, but the last round plowed into the very top of the superstructure, destroying the RADAR and communications array. The ship was rocked to one side by the force of the impact. Another of the Musashi’s guns fired upon a cruiser on the outer tip of the American chevron formation. The rounds penetrated below the water line, rupturing the hull and flooding the lower decks with seawater. It had appeared that damage control crews had sealed off the flooded compartments, because although it listed to port side, it did not sink. The turret closest to stern fired its salvo against the battleship New Jersey. Two of the rounds were low and plunged into the sea, one shot skimmed off the weather deck, ripping apart cargo, men, and anchor chains the laid upon it. However, it was a glancing shot and failed to do severe damage.
Inoguchi’s hand had been played, as he had hoped to do much more damage with his advantage of initiative. Captain Inoguchi stood up at the Conn, and picked up the horn, to make a general announcement to the officers and crew,
“Fellow sailors of the Musashi and brave men of the Japanese Imperial Navy. It has been a pleasure serving as your Captain for what may be the last days of the war for Japan. This may very well be o
ur last action at sea. We find ourselves, surrounded against impossible odds, in a moment’s time we will be set upon on all sides. Now I will not hold it against any man who desires to save himself, by swimming for it. Your safety will not be guaranteed, but at least you may yet live. However for any man who wishes to remain at your post and continues to fight, I ask you not to do so for the Emperor, or for the High Command or Admiralty. I ask you to do it for your family, for your friends and loved ones, back home. My family is the reason I continue this fight, and I expect it is why you all continue on as well.
Now then, any man who desires to save his skin should remove himself from the ship now, otherwise, any man who remains at his station shall be considered a willing participant in the fight to come,” He paused in his speech, giving any man time to vacate the ship. No man on the bridge abandoned his post, “Right then, now we sail to our fates, in mortal combat with the hated enemy. Tonight we join our ancestors in the Yellow Springs!” Inoguchi removed his cap and held it the air. The entire crew of the Musashi stood and cheered in unison, “Bonzai! Bonzai! Bonzai!” The men raised their arms to the heavens. The crew’s morale and motivation shot skyward. Inoguchi took in the blissful moment and silently said a prayer to his God, then he returned to the Conn.
It was at that moment that elements of the American air-wing saw an opening and three fighters swooped down from their holding pattern, flying low, approached the Musashi which had momentarily halted its flack guns. The fighters strafed the weather deck of the Musashi with machine gun fire, sending sailors diving for cover. Rounds impacted against the observation screen on the bridge of the Musashi, which resulted in cracks forming in the glass. The strafing was a bitter reminder to the bridge crew that there was still a fight to be had.