Inferno - Max Hastings [358]
Both sides deployed formidable forces, but the Americans outnumbered the Japanese by around two to one at sea and in the air, with 956 aircraft to 473, 15 carriers to 9—four times the U.S. strength at Midway. Ozawa believed he had gained the advantage when he pinpointed Spruance’s ships, and was first to launch air strikes at 8:30 a.m. on 19 June. But these were swiftly detected by American radar, and the report was flashed to Adm. Marc Mitscher: “Large bogeys bearing 265 degrees, 125 miles at 24,000.” His chief of staff, Capt. Arleigh Burke, said later, “Well that was just we were waiting for, so we launched all our fighters, the whole blooming works.”
What followed became known as the “Great Marianas Turkey Shoot”: of Ozawa’s 373 planes dispatched, only 130 survived, having failed to inflict significant damage on the U.S. fleet. A further 50 Japanese aircraft were shot down over Guam. “[The Japanese] were just devastated,” said Burke. “You could tell that from the radio conversation.” In the carrier operations room, eavesdroppers were monitoring enemy radio transmissions. When at last the disconsolate Japanese airborne controller asked his commander’s permission to return to the fleet, a listening American officer said, “Let’s shoot him down.” Burke replied with pitying condescension, “No, you can’t shoot that man down. He’s done more good for the United States today than any of us. So let him go home.” U.S. submarines torpedoed Ozawa’s flagship, the new carrier Taiho, and the veteran Shokaku. These successes cost the Americans just 29 planes; Toyoda’s surviving ships turned away.
Through the night, Task Force 58, Mitscher’s Fast Carriers, steamed hard in pursuit of the retreating Japanese, and the following afternoon U.S. reconnaissance planes pinpointed Ozawa’s squadron. Mitscher took the daring gamble of launching strikes at extreme range, knowing that his 216 aircraft would have to be recovered in darkness. So great were American resources and so high the stakes that the carriers’ air component could be deemed expendable. Exultant pilots found the Japanese, among them Don Lewis, a dive-bomber pilot.
The carrier below looked big, tremendous, almost make-believe. I had a moment of real joy. I had often dreamed of something like this. Then I was horrified with myself. What a spot to be in. I must be crazy … From each side of the carrier below seemed to be a mass of flashing red dots … It had been turning slowly to port. It stopped. Who could ask for more? I pulled my bomb release, felt the bomb go away, started my pull-out. My eyes watered, my ears hurt, and my altimeter indicated 1,500 feet. The sky was just a mass of black and white puffs, and in the midst of it planes already hit, burning and crashing into the water below. It is strange how a person can be fascinated even in the midst of horror.
This sortie sank another carrier, Hiyu, and damaged two others; the Japanese were left with 35 planes, having destroyed only 20 American aircraft. A further 80 of Mitscher’s force ditched from lack of fuel or were lost attempting to land in darkness, but most of the crews were recovered. U.S. factories could readily replace the lost aircraft, while those of Japan were quite unable to rearm Ozawa. Spruance incurred criticism for breaking off the battle at this point, allegedly forfeiting a chance to complete the destruction of the fleeing Japanese. But he had inflicted a massive and irretrievable defeat on Toyoda’s fleet. He had no need to hazard his own ships, and perhaps the entire Marianas operation, in dangerous waters. Spruance in the Battle of the Philippine Sea displayed a wisdom and discretion that his counterpart and rival, “Bull” Halsey, seldom matched. The action confirmed that American combat skills, as well as naval power, now wholly outclassed