Neptune's Inferno_ The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal - James D. Hornfischer [241]
Hepburn thought Howard Bode culpable on two counts: the decision to remain at the rear of the formation—“a severe indictment of his professional judgment”; and to steam away from the battle zone for thirty-five minutes—“unexplainable.” Hepburn’s criticism was oddly self-canceling. He allowed that “it would be difficult to sustain a charge that his decision, or lack of decision, resulted in greater damage than actually occurred.” He also saw that the most likely result, had Bode made the choices that presumably Hepburn would have made, would have been largely the same—“the Chicago would have been sunk instead of the Canberra.” Nonetheless, Bode in the end was the only officer deemed culpably inefficient by the Navy’s lone inquisitor and judge.
Afterward, in his endorsement to Hepburn’s report, King wrote to James Forrestal: “Granting that the immediate cause of our losses was the surprise attack, the question is whether or not any officer should be held accountable for failing to anticipate it. Considering that this was the first battle experience for most of the ships participating in the operation and for most of the flag officers involved, and that consequently it was the first time that most of them had been in the position of ‘kill or be killed,’ the answer to that specific question, in my judgment, must be in the negative. They simply had not learned how and when to stay on the alert.” King specifically exonerated Turner and Crutchley for the way they had deployed the cruisers. Regarding Bode in particular, King was silent.
Captain Russell wasn’t having any of it. Admiral King’s flag secretary wrote, “It does not necessarily follow that because we took a beating, somebody must be the goat. The operation was undoubtedly hastily planned, and poorly executed, and there was no small amount of stupidity, but to me it is more of an object lesson in how not to fight than it is a failure for which some one should hang.”
Bode didn’t hang. He was assigned to command the 15th Naval District, headquartered at the Balboa Naval Station in the Panama Canal Zone. His transfer to such a backwater would brand him forever as having fallen short of the mark.
He had aspired to flag rank and had always seemed to carry himself as if he would get there. His strict and severe manner might have been an attempt at redemption for a lapse that marred his early career. As a midshipman at the Naval Academy, he had gotten into trouble with three other upperclassmen for hazing. It was a mild offense and typical of the time, but because Bode was caught at it shortly after the superintendent had issued a warning, Bode got a hundred demerits, was confined to academy premises, and lost the privilege of attending the Army–Navy football game. The episode and its aftermath were page-one news in the Sunday New York Times in the autumn of 1910.
From his first day in Panama, Bode “seemed to be under some sort of a strain, and it was very noticeable to me and to the officers,” a reserve lieutenant commander said. “He talked a great deal about wondering why he had been sent here, and before he got out of the plane asked a number of questions as to what kind of a place he was coming to, and couldn’t understand why he had been ordered here because he was a combat man.
“He told me a number of times that he did not contemplate being here very long, and shortly after he arrived, within a day or so, he told me he would be out in about two weeks.” That was when Admiral Hepburn came calling, summoning him to Corpus Christi.
The interrogations, which took place on April 2–3, did not go well for Bode. No one saw him for about a week. When he came back, he had a much more sanguine outlook. He was conversational and seemed acclimated to his new assignment.