Neptune's Inferno_ The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal - James D. Hornfischer [189]
At 10:20 a.m., disturbed by the persistence of the air attacks, which required the ship to keep moving and thus foiled flood-control efforts, Abe ordered the Hiei’s captain, Masao Nishida, to beach the ship on Guadalcanal. The flooding had conquered the steering compartment, and as soon as it was abandoned, the ship was stuck circling northeast of Savo Island. But Nishida flatly refused the order, and in the face of his doggedness, Abe relented. If they could survive the day, they might have the liberty, under cover of darkness, to pump flooded compartments dry and get her under way again.
The return of the Buzzard Brigade at about two twenty-five that afternoon dashed these hopes. Fliers swooped down and planted a pair of torpedoes into the battleship’s starboard side. The shoring that held the floodwaters out of the steering compartment finally yielded, and the ship became unnavigable. As Captain Nishida ordered the crew to abandon, he supervised them from a chair perched atop turret three aft. He stayed there even as Dauntless dive-bombers bore down on the ship. With the Hiei listing to starboard and down by the stern, Abe ordered Nishida forcibily taken from the ship. Flying his flag in the destroyer Yukikaze, standing by, Abe decided his old flagship was a total loss. Though Admiral Yamamoto intervened directly from Truk, instructing Abe that the Hiei not be scuttled, leaving her instead to lend support to Tanaka’s transports as they approached Savo Sound in conjunction with a renewed attack by surface warships, Abe saw no hope in this. After dark, the Hiei sank unobserved, somewhere north of Savo Island. Yamamoto was reportedly furious with Abe for his resistance, and removed him from seagoing command.
WHEN THE PILOTS FROM the Enterprise’s Buzzard Brigade returned to Henderson Field, they were met by the surprised commander of the Cactus Air Force, Brigadier General Louis Woods, who declared, “Boys, I don’t know where you came from, but you look like angels dropping out of heaven to us.” Touching down on the airfield again near dusk, with their khakis still fresh and their faces clean-shaven, the carrier pilots found old friends from flight school among the Marine fliers and enjoyed the occasion to celebrate. They gained full membership in the Cactus Air Force by donating some torpedo fuel to the bar, run by Seabees, who always had a healthy supply of grapefruit juice on hand as a mixer. Assigned tents in a camp already crowded with survivors of the naval action, the tenants of Henderson Field raised their glasses and cheered.
34
Cruiser in the Sky
CAPTAIN HOOVER LED HIS SQUADRON OF SURVIVORS TOWARD ESPIRITU Santo, forced to limp at ten knots until temporary repairs let the San Francisco keep pace with the nimbler survivors. The Helena led her and the damaged Juneau south. As the shell-battered Sterett passed the San Francisco to take station ahead, forming a patchwork destroyer screen with the unscratched Fletcher and the lightly grazed O’Bannon, her crew beheld what the night had wrought on Dan Callaghan’s flagship. The bridge was battered and charred; the after control tower, thoroughly put to the torch. They counted twenty-six holes in her port side.
On request from Bruce McCandless, the Juneau sent the San Francisco a medical officer, Lieutenant Roger W. O’Neil, and a trio of corpsmen to assist with the wounded. O’Neil was angry about being sent away from his ship. “I don’t know why they sent us over here,” he said, coming aboard. “You people are going to sink, and we are needed back on the Juneau.” In Captain Swenson