December 07, 2009
68 Years
Pearl Harbor, 12/7/1941
Ceremony for those killed at NAS Kaneohe, Memorial Day 1942.
Pearl Harbor, 12/7/1941
Ceremony for those killed at NAS Kaneohe, Memorial Day 1942.
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November 30, 2009
Dive Bomber
Back in the early days of dive bombing, the British Air Ministry attempted to answer the question "what IS a dive bombing attack?" In their definition, which was generally accepted by the various air forces, when the aircraft drops its bombs while descending at an angle of 20 degrees or less, it was executing a shallow glide bombing attack. From 20 to 60 degrees, it was a steep glide bombing run.
However it was only when the pilot guided his craft into a plummeting descent of between 60 and 90 (also known as 'straight down') degrees that he was performing that most accurate, deadly and dangerous manuever, a dive bombing attack. It was dive bombing that blew open the way for Germany's blitzkrieg across Europe. It was dive bombing that helped pummel Pearl Harbor's facilities and airbases. It was dive bombing that killed HMS Hermes, the first aircraft carrier to be sunk by aircraft. It was dive bombing that sank four Japanese aircraft carriers at Midway. It was (mostly) dive bombing that shut off the flow of supplies to the Japanese soldiers at Guadalcanal. One could go so far as to argue that dive bombing won the naval war in the Pacific.
Yet it was the dive bomber that disappeared from the lineups of the various air forces almost as soon as World War II was over. Why?
*THE PLANES
For all intents and purposes, there were four major planes designated as Dive Bombers in World War II. Oddly, the worst of the bunch is the one that's best remembered and is thought of as the prototypical DB.
The Ju87, better known as the Stuka, was used by Germany as heavy artillery. Luftwaffe liason officers were attached to Wehrmacht units as what we would now call forward air controllers for Close Air Support. The Stuka would be called in to pummel strongpoints with the type of accuracy only available to dive bombers. The Luftwaffe had better designs to chose from when the time came to begin preparing for war but the Stuka had the support of Ernst Udet, who was the Director-General of Equipment. However, it was quite slow when carrying the usual bombload of 1100lbs, maxing out at about 150mph. In comparison to the other planes on this list, it had a very short range of about 300 miles It was also quite unmanueverable and could be hacked out of the air in immense numbers by even small amounts of fighters. When escorted by fighters, however, the Stuka could be very effective. It was able to dive vertically when executing an attack, which was devastating against stationary targets. After the Battle of Britain, where the Stuka's weaknesses were brought to stark light, the plane should have been withdrawn from action. Germany had no choice but to use it throughout the war, in upgraded forms, as there was no replacement. Despite all this, it is images of the Stuka, stooping upon a target with its landing-gear-mounted sirens (called "Jericho's Trumpet" by crews) wailing, that leap to mind when the public thinks of dive bombing.
The Aichi D3A (Allied code name 'Val'), was the primary dive bomber of the Imperial Japanese Navy for most of the Pacific War. A contemporary of the Stuka, it flew slowly enough that drag from the fixed landing gear was not considered an issue. It was rather sturdy for a Japanese warplane, yet manueverable enough to be able to hold its own against fighters when unladen. While it generally could not dive as steeply as the other planes on this list, when combined with the highly experienced pilots of the IJN it was phenomenally accurate. During the Indian Ocean raid at the beginning of 1942, Vals caught the British cruisers Dorsetshire and Cornwall 200 miles off of Ceylon and scored on 85% of their attacks, sinking both ships in minutes. Later, Vals participated in the attack on HMS Hermes, scoring 40 hits from 70 planes. With a maximum speed of 240mph (less with bombload) and a maximum range of 915 miles, it was perfectly suited to naval war in the vast ranges of the Pacific Ocean. Its main weakness was that it could only carry a 551lb bombload, which was marginal against larger vessels.
The Douglas SBD, or Dauntless as it was commonly known, was used by the US Navy and Marines throughout WWII, though it was supplanted by the SB2C Helldiver in 1944. It was never entirely replaced, however. With a top speed of 255mph and a range of 770 miles without a bomb, the Dauntless was also quite nimble, racking up quite a few kills against the Japanese Zero. Early in the war, it was common to see Dauntlesses acting as anti-torpedo-plane interceptors, though this practice stopped when the number of fighters carried by US carriers was increased. It could carry a 1000lb bomb. The Dauntless is credited with singlehandedly sinking six Japanese carriers, including four in one day at the Battle of Midway. When carrying a bombload however, the Dauntless only had a combat radius of about 200 miles or so, fairly short in the Pacific. It was also used by the Army Air Force as the A-24, but was generally unsuccessful, more from a lack of institutional enthusiasm for dive bombing than poor performance.
The Curtiss SB2C Helldiver was the ultimate in dive bombers. Able to carry a ton of bombs (or a torpedo) in an internal bay, it could go nearly 300mph with a maximum range of 1200 miles (unladen). A big plane, it was rather unmanueverable and complex to maintain. After early teething problems were ironed out, though, it became quite a useful bomber, participating in all major actions in the later years of the war in the Pacific. It was never as popular amongst aircrews as the Dauntless, being nicknamed "Beast" or "Son of a Bitch 2nd Class", though later versions of the plane were undoubtably better in every way than the smaller SBD. Due to a lack of targets, the Helldiver didn't ring up a large kill total of ships, though they were instrumental in the sinking of the Yamato and Mushashi, the IJN superbattleships.
Other dive bombers in World War II included the British Blackburn Skua, the Soviet Pe-2 and IL-2, the Vought SB2U Vindicator, the German Ju88 and the Japanese Yokosuka D4Y Suisei, which was the only plane that could argue the SB2C's title as "best dive bomber."
*THE TACTICS
Dive bombing was much more than just "point yourself at the target and dive".
A dive bomber would approach a target from around 10-15000 feet altitude, dropping in shallow dive down to about 5000-7000 feet. Upon reaching the push-over point, a dive bomber would throttle back to about 50% maximum power, extend their dive brakes, and begin a steep dive down to around 1000 feet. Each plane would reach a different high speed during this dive (the Stuka would hit around 350mph, while the Dauntless would hover around 240mph). Upon reaching its release altitude (again, around 1000 feet), a pilot would retract his dive brakes, increase throttle and pull up steeply at around 5g. Again, depending on the plane and the bravery of the pilot, the altitude would bottom out around 500 feet or less as the dive bomber rapidly exited the area.
Against an immobile target, a squadron of dive bombers would approach and dive from different directions so as to confuse the defending antiaircraft guns. As always, however, coming out of the sun was usually the preferred method of attack, so as to limit the defender's visibility.
Against a ship, however, the rules were different. In a perfect setup, a squadron would dive heading upwind and in the direction of the ship's travel (heading from stern to bow, in other words). The planes would all attack from the same direction, one after the other, in line astern. A vigorously manuevering target, however, did cause some headaches for a pilot. He would have to change the attitude of his plane to follow the ship's path, all the while hanging against his seatbelt/harness.
Early in the war, particularly for the Japanese, it was nearly impossible to shoot down a dive bomber after it began its dive with anti-aircraft guns. Early gun directors could not deal with a plane moving at high speed and shedding appalling amounts of altitude in a short time, making a plunging dive bomber nearly invunerable. Indeed, during the Battle of Midway, Japanese AA managed to shoot down only one Dauntless. The best defense against a dive bomber at this time was to shoot it down during its approach, usually with a fighter.
*THE END OF A WEAPON
It was improvements in anti-aircraft fire that spelled the end of the dive bomber, however.
By the end of the war, it was practically suicidal for any dive bomber to approach an American ship. More (and better) AA guns, under radar direction, using proximity fuzes, could blow any plane out of the air at long ranges. It was bad enough for a torpedo plane, having to fly in a straight line at a relatively low speed, but at least they could stay a good distance away from their target and still release their weapon. For a dive bomber, however, which basically had to overfly its target, they were sitting ducks. By the end of the war, a Japanese naval vessel, which never carried a particularly large number of AA guns even under the best of circumstances, could expect that it would have the number of AA guns doubled or tripled from what it had carried at the beginning of the war.
And though the Axis powers never developed the proximity fuze for their AA guns, when you're putting enough bullets in the air you often didn't need them. German anti-aircraft guns were fearsome indeed, which is one of the reasons the Allies didn't use dive bombers much in Europe. Indeed, the RAF and FAA, who are often credited with creating and formalizing the concept of dive bombing, never had more than a couple of squadrons of dive bombers at any time during WWII. This despite the benefits of the type being on display against them in Poland, Belgium and France. The reason given was that it would be too costly in men and machines, and it's hard to debate the point.
Another reason for the disappearance of the dive bomber was the rise of what is now called the multi-role aircraft. The F4U Corsair, for example, could perform steep diving attacks nearly as well as the Dauntless despite the lack of dive brakes, had a longer range, and could carry a greater weight of bombs to boot. The P-47 Thunderbolt was another excellent fighter that could double as an attack plane, as was the Focke-Wulf Fw190. Using a fighter to do a bomber's job, and perhaps do it better to boot, made a lot of sense, particularly in the crowded hangar decks of an aircraft carrier.
The massacre of a squadron of dive bombers by such technology as a surface-to-air missile could easily be imagined, but by that time the dive bomber was no more.
*EPILOGUE
The dive bomber, in some ways, still lives on today. It's not hard to see modern precision guided munitions (or "smart bombs") as the direct descendant of the bombs dropped by Stukas, Dauntlesses and Vals. To continue the analogy, the air-dropped torpedo became the stand-off missile (such as the Tomahawk cruise missile or Harpoon anti-shipping weapon).
However you look at it though, today's attack pilot still needs to do the same thing as the dive bomber: put a bomb on a relatively small target with skill and precision.
This post is dedicated to Mort Price, USMC, Dauntless rear-seat gunner.
However it was only when the pilot guided his craft into a plummeting descent of between 60 and 90 (also known as 'straight down') degrees that he was performing that most accurate, deadly and dangerous manuever, a dive bombing attack. It was dive bombing that blew open the way for Germany's blitzkrieg across Europe. It was dive bombing that helped pummel Pearl Harbor's facilities and airbases. It was dive bombing that killed HMS Hermes, the first aircraft carrier to be sunk by aircraft. It was dive bombing that sank four Japanese aircraft carriers at Midway. It was (mostly) dive bombing that shut off the flow of supplies to the Japanese soldiers at Guadalcanal. One could go so far as to argue that dive bombing won the naval war in the Pacific.
Yet it was the dive bomber that disappeared from the lineups of the various air forces almost as soon as World War II was over. Why?
*THE PLANES
For all intents and purposes, there were four major planes designated as Dive Bombers in World War II. Oddly, the worst of the bunch is the one that's best remembered and is thought of as the prototypical DB.
The Ju87, better known as the Stuka, was used by Germany as heavy artillery. Luftwaffe liason officers were attached to Wehrmacht units as what we would now call forward air controllers for Close Air Support. The Stuka would be called in to pummel strongpoints with the type of accuracy only available to dive bombers. The Luftwaffe had better designs to chose from when the time came to begin preparing for war but the Stuka had the support of Ernst Udet, who was the Director-General of Equipment. However, it was quite slow when carrying the usual bombload of 1100lbs, maxing out at about 150mph. In comparison to the other planes on this list, it had a very short range of about 300 miles It was also quite unmanueverable and could be hacked out of the air in immense numbers by even small amounts of fighters. When escorted by fighters, however, the Stuka could be very effective. It was able to dive vertically when executing an attack, which was devastating against stationary targets. After the Battle of Britain, where the Stuka's weaknesses were brought to stark light, the plane should have been withdrawn from action. Germany had no choice but to use it throughout the war, in upgraded forms, as there was no replacement. Despite all this, it is images of the Stuka, stooping upon a target with its landing-gear-mounted sirens (called "Jericho's Trumpet" by crews) wailing, that leap to mind when the public thinks of dive bombing.
The Aichi D3A (Allied code name 'Val'), was the primary dive bomber of the Imperial Japanese Navy for most of the Pacific War. A contemporary of the Stuka, it flew slowly enough that drag from the fixed landing gear was not considered an issue. It was rather sturdy for a Japanese warplane, yet manueverable enough to be able to hold its own against fighters when unladen. While it generally could not dive as steeply as the other planes on this list, when combined with the highly experienced pilots of the IJN it was phenomenally accurate. During the Indian Ocean raid at the beginning of 1942, Vals caught the British cruisers Dorsetshire and Cornwall 200 miles off of Ceylon and scored on 85% of their attacks, sinking both ships in minutes. Later, Vals participated in the attack on HMS Hermes, scoring 40 hits from 70 planes. With a maximum speed of 240mph (less with bombload) and a maximum range of 915 miles, it was perfectly suited to naval war in the vast ranges of the Pacific Ocean. Its main weakness was that it could only carry a 551lb bombload, which was marginal against larger vessels.
The Douglas SBD, or Dauntless as it was commonly known, was used by the US Navy and Marines throughout WWII, though it was supplanted by the SB2C Helldiver in 1944. It was never entirely replaced, however. With a top speed of 255mph and a range of 770 miles without a bomb, the Dauntless was also quite nimble, racking up quite a few kills against the Japanese Zero. Early in the war, it was common to see Dauntlesses acting as anti-torpedo-plane interceptors, though this practice stopped when the number of fighters carried by US carriers was increased. It could carry a 1000lb bomb. The Dauntless is credited with singlehandedly sinking six Japanese carriers, including four in one day at the Battle of Midway. When carrying a bombload however, the Dauntless only had a combat radius of about 200 miles or so, fairly short in the Pacific. It was also used by the Army Air Force as the A-24, but was generally unsuccessful, more from a lack of institutional enthusiasm for dive bombing than poor performance.
The Curtiss SB2C Helldiver was the ultimate in dive bombers. Able to carry a ton of bombs (or a torpedo) in an internal bay, it could go nearly 300mph with a maximum range of 1200 miles (unladen). A big plane, it was rather unmanueverable and complex to maintain. After early teething problems were ironed out, though, it became quite a useful bomber, participating in all major actions in the later years of the war in the Pacific. It was never as popular amongst aircrews as the Dauntless, being nicknamed "Beast" or "Son of a Bitch 2nd Class", though later versions of the plane were undoubtably better in every way than the smaller SBD. Due to a lack of targets, the Helldiver didn't ring up a large kill total of ships, though they were instrumental in the sinking of the Yamato and Mushashi, the IJN superbattleships.
Other dive bombers in World War II included the British Blackburn Skua, the Soviet Pe-2 and IL-2, the Vought SB2U Vindicator, the German Ju88 and the Japanese Yokosuka D4Y Suisei, which was the only plane that could argue the SB2C's title as "best dive bomber."
*THE TACTICS
Dive bombing was much more than just "point yourself at the target and dive".
A dive bomber would approach a target from around 10-15000 feet altitude, dropping in shallow dive down to about 5000-7000 feet. Upon reaching the push-over point, a dive bomber would throttle back to about 50% maximum power, extend their dive brakes, and begin a steep dive down to around 1000 feet. Each plane would reach a different high speed during this dive (the Stuka would hit around 350mph, while the Dauntless would hover around 240mph). Upon reaching its release altitude (again, around 1000 feet), a pilot would retract his dive brakes, increase throttle and pull up steeply at around 5g. Again, depending on the plane and the bravery of the pilot, the altitude would bottom out around 500 feet or less as the dive bomber rapidly exited the area.
Against an immobile target, a squadron of dive bombers would approach and dive from different directions so as to confuse the defending antiaircraft guns. As always, however, coming out of the sun was usually the preferred method of attack, so as to limit the defender's visibility.
Against a ship, however, the rules were different. In a perfect setup, a squadron would dive heading upwind and in the direction of the ship's travel (heading from stern to bow, in other words). The planes would all attack from the same direction, one after the other, in line astern. A vigorously manuevering target, however, did cause some headaches for a pilot. He would have to change the attitude of his plane to follow the ship's path, all the while hanging against his seatbelt/harness.
Early in the war, particularly for the Japanese, it was nearly impossible to shoot down a dive bomber after it began its dive with anti-aircraft guns. Early gun directors could not deal with a plane moving at high speed and shedding appalling amounts of altitude in a short time, making a plunging dive bomber nearly invunerable. Indeed, during the Battle of Midway, Japanese AA managed to shoot down only one Dauntless. The best defense against a dive bomber at this time was to shoot it down during its approach, usually with a fighter.
*THE END OF A WEAPON
It was improvements in anti-aircraft fire that spelled the end of the dive bomber, however.
By the end of the war, it was practically suicidal for any dive bomber to approach an American ship. More (and better) AA guns, under radar direction, using proximity fuzes, could blow any plane out of the air at long ranges. It was bad enough for a torpedo plane, having to fly in a straight line at a relatively low speed, but at least they could stay a good distance away from their target and still release their weapon. For a dive bomber, however, which basically had to overfly its target, they were sitting ducks. By the end of the war, a Japanese naval vessel, which never carried a particularly large number of AA guns even under the best of circumstances, could expect that it would have the number of AA guns doubled or tripled from what it had carried at the beginning of the war.
And though the Axis powers never developed the proximity fuze for their AA guns, when you're putting enough bullets in the air you often didn't need them. German anti-aircraft guns were fearsome indeed, which is one of the reasons the Allies didn't use dive bombers much in Europe. Indeed, the RAF and FAA, who are often credited with creating and formalizing the concept of dive bombing, never had more than a couple of squadrons of dive bombers at any time during WWII. This despite the benefits of the type being on display against them in Poland, Belgium and France. The reason given was that it would be too costly in men and machines, and it's hard to debate the point.
Another reason for the disappearance of the dive bomber was the rise of what is now called the multi-role aircraft. The F4U Corsair, for example, could perform steep diving attacks nearly as well as the Dauntless despite the lack of dive brakes, had a longer range, and could carry a greater weight of bombs to boot. The P-47 Thunderbolt was another excellent fighter that could double as an attack plane, as was the Focke-Wulf Fw190. Using a fighter to do a bomber's job, and perhaps do it better to boot, made a lot of sense, particularly in the crowded hangar decks of an aircraft carrier.
The massacre of a squadron of dive bombers by such technology as a surface-to-air missile could easily be imagined, but by that time the dive bomber was no more.
*EPILOGUE
The dive bomber, in some ways, still lives on today. It's not hard to see modern precision guided munitions (or "smart bombs") as the direct descendant of the bombs dropped by Stukas, Dauntlesses and Vals. To continue the analogy, the air-dropped torpedo became the stand-off missile (such as the Tomahawk cruise missile or Harpoon anti-shipping weapon).
However you look at it though, today's attack pilot still needs to do the same thing as the dive bomber: put a bomb on a relatively small target with skill and precision.
This post is dedicated to Mort Price, USMC, Dauntless rear-seat gunner.
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November 23, 2009
The Japanese "Saving Private Ryan"
Otoko Tachi no Yamato, or "The Men of Yamato" in English, tells the story of the final sortie of that famed battleship. Not from a strategic standpoint, mind, but from that of her men. The script isn't brilliant, but you do know and care about these sailors by the time the American carrier planes begin to appear as the battleship approaches Okinawa.
But the main character in this movie is the Yamato herself. No expense was spared in the making of this epic film, including a 1:1 scale set of the forward section of the ship, and the port side of the island area (the anti-aircraft guns in particular) that cost ¥600 million (nearly $7million).
While the producers did wind up reusing a lot of the CG footage in the two major battle scenes, it's barely noticeable amidst all the chaos of war. And make no mistake, this movie pulls no punches when it comes to the combat... if you can't stand the sight of blood, this is not the movie for you.
If you can stomach seeing people opened up by machine-gun rounds and the deck running red with blood, however, what you'll get is a war movie that ranks up near the top of the list. It's not as good as Saving Private Ryan or the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, true, but it's lightyears ahead of, say, Tora Tora Tora or Midway.
While this screencap makes it look obvious that we're looking at models or CG, in motion it's nearly flawless. The amount of detail is immense, both in the planes and in the Yamato herself.
But when the final attack begins, the great ship goes to hell in a hurry. You barely notice that the whole fight is nearly 30 minutes long.
The sailors aren't supermen. There's no "one man shooting down a squadron", or even a single plane, like you might see in an American war movie. They're just there to serve the guns, and die. And die they do, in droves.
If you can find a copy of the movie, I recommend it heartily. It's well-done, historically accurate, and beautifully shot. You get the feeling that you're watching a documentary on the shipboard life of the Yamato, rather than a feature film, but it's never dull, despite the 2-1/2 hour length.
It's not perfect, but it's plenty good, and a fitting tribute to the men who crewed her.
But the main character in this movie is the Yamato herself. No expense was spared in the making of this epic film, including a 1:1 scale set of the forward section of the ship, and the port side of the island area (the anti-aircraft guns in particular) that cost ¥600 million (nearly $7million).
While the producers did wind up reusing a lot of the CG footage in the two major battle scenes, it's barely noticeable amidst all the chaos of war. And make no mistake, this movie pulls no punches when it comes to the combat... if you can't stand the sight of blood, this is not the movie for you.
If you can stomach seeing people opened up by machine-gun rounds and the deck running red with blood, however, what you'll get is a war movie that ranks up near the top of the list. It's not as good as Saving Private Ryan or the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, true, but it's lightyears ahead of, say, Tora Tora Tora or Midway.
While this screencap makes it look obvious that we're looking at models or CG, in motion it's nearly flawless. The amount of detail is immense, both in the planes and in the Yamato herself.
But when the final attack begins, the great ship goes to hell in a hurry. You barely notice that the whole fight is nearly 30 minutes long.
The sailors aren't supermen. There's no "one man shooting down a squadron", or even a single plane, like you might see in an American war movie. They're just there to serve the guns, and die. And die they do, in droves.
If you can find a copy of the movie, I recommend it heartily. It's well-done, historically accurate, and beautifully shot. You get the feeling that you're watching a documentary on the shipboard life of the Yamato, rather than a feature film, but it's never dull, despite the 2-1/2 hour length.
It's not perfect, but it's plenty good, and a fitting tribute to the men who crewed her.
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November 06, 2009
Remember That Torpedo 8 Detachment?
The first combat experience of the Grumman TBF (latter named the Avenger) came at the Battle of Midway, with a detachment of planes from Torpedo 8. We all know how that turned out: five TBFs shot down, and the sixth a flying sieve.
The pilot of the surviving TBF was Ensign Bert Earnest. He later went on to fight with VT-8 at Guadalcanal. He retired from the Navy as a Captain. Along the way, he earned a Purple Heart, two Air Medals, and three Navy Crosses.
Albert K Earnest, CAPT USN (RET) passed away on October 26th at the age of 92.
May he rest in peace.
The pilot of the surviving TBF was Ensign Bert Earnest. He later went on to fight with VT-8 at Guadalcanal. He retired from the Navy as a Captain. Along the way, he earned a Purple Heart, two Air Medals, and three Navy Crosses.
Albert K Earnest, CAPT USN (RET) passed away on October 26th at the age of 92.
May he rest in peace.
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#USS_RobinAugust 09, 2009
The Best Of The Jeeps
Escort, or 'Jeep', carriers, were wartime conversions of merchant hulls. In 1942, as the US "auxiliary" carrier program spun up to full gear, every available C-3 hull, which was the preferred base design for conversion, had been earmarked for the Bogue-class escort carrier.
The Bogue-class was a relatively unsophisticated design, essentially slapping a flight deck on top of the hull, and changing the old main deck to a hangar. While effective, more hulls were desperately needed to escort convoys in the Atlantic and support operations in the Pacific. To overcome the shortfall, the powers-that-be tagged four T-3 tanker hulls for conversion.
The resulting Sangamon-class was considered the best of the converted Jeep carrier classes.
The Bogue-class was a relatively unsophisticated design, essentially slapping a flight deck on top of the hull, and changing the old main deck to a hangar. While effective, more hulls were desperately needed to escort convoys in the Atlantic and support operations in the Pacific. To overcome the shortfall, the powers-that-be tagged four T-3 tanker hulls for conversion.
T-3 Esso Trenton before conversion to USS Sangamon
The US Navy wasn't particularly fond of this idea. The one type of ship in even shorter supply than carriers were fast fleet oilers, designed to accompany warships and provide fuel and other supplies to short-legged ships in the vast ranges of the Pacific ocean, and the T-3 filled that bill. However, the Navy wasn't given a choice, and the four ships were taken into Norfolk Navy Yard, Newport News, Puget Sound Navy Yard and Bethlehem Steel.The resulting Sangamon-class was considered the best of the converted Jeep carrier classes.
USS Santee, CVE-29
Longer, heavier and faster than the preceding Bogue-class, and the basis for the subsequent purpose-built Casablanca-class (which was smaller and lighter, and just 1kt faster), the Sangamons could (and often did) carry 36 planes.
Unlike every other escort carrier class, the four Sangamons were able to embark any carrier plane in the Navy arsenal, save for the Helldiver and the Corsair. The usual air complement was between 12-18 Wildcats and around the same number of TBF Avengers, though the Sangamon and the Santee occasionally carried the Dauntless dive-bomber. The Suwannee and the Chenango never did, for one reason or another.
They displaced 24100 tons (full load), as opposed to 16600 tons for the Bogues. Unsurprisingly considering their tanker origins, they carried nearly three times as much fuel as well, giving them a range of 24000 nautical miles @ 15kts (the Bogues range was just over 10000nm). They also had a huge bunkerage for airplane fuel. As a matter of fact, they could carry more fuel than a Yorktown or Lexington-class fleet carrier, and only a bit less than the Essex-class, despite being about 350 feet shorter. In effect, the Sangamon-class were self-escorting tankers.
All four began their service life in late 1942, covering the North Africa landings of Operation Torch. Immediately following, they transferred to the Pacific. Three of the four were hit by kamikaze (the Chenango avoided that fate, but suffered severe damage when a F6F crash-landed on her deck and smashed into planes parked forward). The class as a whole suffered three kamikaze hits, four bomb strikes, and a submarine torpedo hit, yet all four survived... again, testament to the survivability of their larger-sized tanker origins.
The only thing that separated them from CVL status was their speed. 18kts maximum was pretty good for a transport, and excellent for an escort carrier, but much too slow to operate with the battle fleet, where 25-30kts was considered standard. That's about the only statistic that the Sangamons were inferior to the Independence-class CVL.
All four ships of the class survived the war, earning 41 battle stars between them. The Chenango and Santee continued in US Navy service as CVHEs (Carrier, Helicopter, Escort) until the late '50s. The Suwannee was put into the mothball fleet. The Sangamon, amusingly, was returned to commercial service in her original tanker configuration after the war, until she was scrapped in 1960.
Unlike every other escort carrier class, the four Sangamons were able to embark any carrier plane in the Navy arsenal, save for the Helldiver and the Corsair. The usual air complement was between 12-18 Wildcats and around the same number of TBF Avengers, though the Sangamon and the Santee occasionally carried the Dauntless dive-bomber. The Suwannee and the Chenango never did, for one reason or another.
They displaced 24100 tons (full load), as opposed to 16600 tons for the Bogues. Unsurprisingly considering their tanker origins, they carried nearly three times as much fuel as well, giving them a range of 24000 nautical miles @ 15kts (the Bogues range was just over 10000nm). They also had a huge bunkerage for airplane fuel. As a matter of fact, they could carry more fuel than a Yorktown or Lexington-class fleet carrier, and only a bit less than the Essex-class, despite being about 350 feet shorter. In effect, the Sangamon-class were self-escorting tankers.
All four began their service life in late 1942, covering the North Africa landings of Operation Torch. Immediately following, they transferred to the Pacific. Three of the four were hit by kamikaze (the Chenango avoided that fate, but suffered severe damage when a F6F crash-landed on her deck and smashed into planes parked forward). The class as a whole suffered three kamikaze hits, four bomb strikes, and a submarine torpedo hit, yet all four survived... again, testament to the survivability of their larger-sized tanker origins.
Santee takes a kamikaze hit
As with all ships in WWII, their AA guns were substantially increased from their starting armament. Unlike most others classes, however, the Sangamons handled the near-doubling of their guns without any topweight problems, owing to their tanker origins. The only thing that separated them from CVL status was their speed. 18kts maximum was pretty good for a transport, and excellent for an escort carrier, but much too slow to operate with the battle fleet, where 25-30kts was considered standard. That's about the only statistic that the Sangamons were inferior to the Independence-class CVL.
All four ships of the class survived the war, earning 41 battle stars between them. The Chenango and Santee continued in US Navy service as CVHEs (Carrier, Helicopter, Escort) until the late '50s. The Suwannee was put into the mothball fleet. The Sangamon, amusingly, was returned to commercial service in her original tanker configuration after the war, until she was scrapped in 1960.
The end of Sangamons.
For ships that were considered 'expendable', not a bad history.
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June 04, 2009
What If #3: Midway... Timing Is Everything
In the previous post, reader Toad asks:
If the American torpedo and dive bombers had managed to make a coordinated attack per doctrine how much difference would it have made if any on the number of Japanese carriers sunk and damaged?
It would, indeed, make a difference, but perhaps not the way you may be expecting.
As in life, love, baseball and comedy, the Battle of Midway is all about timing. Disrupt the timing of the American attacks, and you disrupt the outcome. Throughout the morning of June 4th, 1942, American planes ran in on Kido Butai. At no time during the day, until the famous plunge of the Dauntlesses, were these attacks coordinated or in greater than squadron strength. Also at no time during the day, until the big attack, were American fighters effectively on the scene (there were Wildcats on the scene when VT-6 made its run, but they were high above the fight waiting for a radio call on a different frequency from a different squadron).
The easiest way to describe the effect of all these seperate attacks had on the Japanese fleet is to borrow a phrase from land combat: suppressive fire. The carriers were too busy "keeping their heads down" and tossing the occasional grenade (or Zeros, in the case) at their attackers from behind cover to launch their own attack on the US carriers.
The sequence of events went like this:
Shortly before 6am, the Japanese carriers were spotted by Midway-based PBYs.
*Around 620am, the Japanese strike on Midway Island began.
*At 7am, TF16 (Enterprise, Hornet) began launching their strike against the Japanese.
*Between 705am and 730am, the VT-8 detachment flying from Midway and a handful of B-26s carrying topedoes attack the Japanese carriers. During this time, Admiral Nagumo, commander of Kido Butai, orders that his reserve force of carrier planes be rearmed for land attack.
*Around 745am, Tone #4, the infamous late scout plane, discovers and reports the presence of American carriers. Nagumo reverses his rearming order.
*At 755am, two unrelated attacks on the Japanese carriers come in. First, a flight of B-17s arrive overhead. At the same time, a green squadron of Dauntless dive bombers from Midway, led by Major Lofton Henderson, begin a glide bombing attack. This attack is dealt with sternly, and is over by 815am or so.
*At 8am, TF17 (Yorktown), which had been in charge of scouting for the morning, launches its planes.
*At 805am, the Midway strike planes return to Kido Butai and wait for the American attacks to be driven off.
*Around 820am, a second group of dive bombers from Midway, this time SB2U Vindicators, attacks and is beaten off.
*Around 835am, the SB2U and B-17 attacks come to an end.
*Immediately thereafter, recovery of the Midway strike force begins.
*Around 910am, the last planes from the strike force touch down.
*At 915am, VT-8 attacks. By 935am, all of the torpedo bombers are shot down.
*At 940am, VT-6 attacks. This attack is over by 1010am.
*At 1010am, VT-3 is spotted.
*At 1020am, VB-3 and VB-6 attack Kido Butai.
*By 1030am, the Soryu, Kaga and Akagi are mortally wounded.
*Around 1040am, VT-3's survivors make their torpedo attacks and leave the field.
From this timeline, it can be seen that the Japanese carriers had no time to even prepare to launch an attack on the American CVs. The only open stretch available to them was between 835am and 910am, the time when the Midway strike force was being recovered. They could have spotted and launched an attack during this stretch of time (even though the re-rearming of the reserve planes wasn't yet complete), but only at the risk of losing many of the Midway strike planes to fuel depravation or pilot injuries. Japanese doctrine at the time did not allow for, say, Hiryu and Kaga to launch an attack while Soryu and Akagi recovered planes. Doctrine called for massed airpower using large numbers of planes in a balanced, coordinated attack. This would swamp the target's defenses and allow for maximum damage to be inflicted while minimizing casualties. There was never any thought to leaving the Midway strike dangling, because that's not how the Japanese carriers worked.
So, what would have happened if a coordinated American strike had been launched and all the attackers arrived on target at the same time?
The answer, as mentioned before, comes down to timing.
more...
If the American torpedo and dive bombers had managed to make a coordinated attack per doctrine how much difference would it have made if any on the number of Japanese carriers sunk and damaged?
It would, indeed, make a difference, but perhaps not the way you may be expecting.
As in life, love, baseball and comedy, the Battle of Midway is all about timing. Disrupt the timing of the American attacks, and you disrupt the outcome. Throughout the morning of June 4th, 1942, American planes ran in on Kido Butai. At no time during the day, until the famous plunge of the Dauntlesses, were these attacks coordinated or in greater than squadron strength. Also at no time during the day, until the big attack, were American fighters effectively on the scene (there were Wildcats on the scene when VT-6 made its run, but they were high above the fight waiting for a radio call on a different frequency from a different squadron).
The easiest way to describe the effect of all these seperate attacks had on the Japanese fleet is to borrow a phrase from land combat: suppressive fire. The carriers were too busy "keeping their heads down" and tossing the occasional grenade (or Zeros, in the case) at their attackers from behind cover to launch their own attack on the US carriers.
The sequence of events went like this:
Shortly before 6am, the Japanese carriers were spotted by Midway-based PBYs.
*Around 620am, the Japanese strike on Midway Island began.
*At 7am, TF16 (Enterprise, Hornet) began launching their strike against the Japanese.
*Between 705am and 730am, the VT-8 detachment flying from Midway and a handful of B-26s carrying topedoes attack the Japanese carriers. During this time, Admiral Nagumo, commander of Kido Butai, orders that his reserve force of carrier planes be rearmed for land attack.
*Around 745am, Tone #4, the infamous late scout plane, discovers and reports the presence of American carriers. Nagumo reverses his rearming order.
*At 755am, two unrelated attacks on the Japanese carriers come in. First, a flight of B-17s arrive overhead. At the same time, a green squadron of Dauntless dive bombers from Midway, led by Major Lofton Henderson, begin a glide bombing attack. This attack is dealt with sternly, and is over by 815am or so.
*At 8am, TF17 (Yorktown), which had been in charge of scouting for the morning, launches its planes.
*At 805am, the Midway strike planes return to Kido Butai and wait for the American attacks to be driven off.
*Around 820am, a second group of dive bombers from Midway, this time SB2U Vindicators, attacks and is beaten off.
*Around 835am, the SB2U and B-17 attacks come to an end.
*Immediately thereafter, recovery of the Midway strike force begins.
*Around 910am, the last planes from the strike force touch down.
*At 915am, VT-8 attacks. By 935am, all of the torpedo bombers are shot down.
*At 940am, VT-6 attacks. This attack is over by 1010am.
*At 1010am, VT-3 is spotted.
*At 1020am, VB-3 and VB-6 attack Kido Butai.
*By 1030am, the Soryu, Kaga and Akagi are mortally wounded.
*Around 1040am, VT-3's survivors make their torpedo attacks and leave the field.
From this timeline, it can be seen that the Japanese carriers had no time to even prepare to launch an attack on the American CVs. The only open stretch available to them was between 835am and 910am, the time when the Midway strike force was being recovered. They could have spotted and launched an attack during this stretch of time (even though the re-rearming of the reserve planes wasn't yet complete), but only at the risk of losing many of the Midway strike planes to fuel depravation or pilot injuries. Japanese doctrine at the time did not allow for, say, Hiryu and Kaga to launch an attack while Soryu and Akagi recovered planes. Doctrine called for massed airpower using large numbers of planes in a balanced, coordinated attack. This would swamp the target's defenses and allow for maximum damage to be inflicted while minimizing casualties. There was never any thought to leaving the Midway strike dangling, because that's not how the Japanese carriers worked.
So, what would have happened if a coordinated American strike had been launched and all the attackers arrived on target at the same time?
The answer, as mentioned before, comes down to timing.
more...
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A Miraculous Day, A Tragic Day
June 4th, 1942.
Midway Island.
John Waldron, Commander of Torpedo 8, takes off from USS Hornet around 7am.
Waldron's Torpedo 8 attacked the Japanese fleet at 920am. By 940am, all of the men in this picture save for Ensign George Gay (circled) were dead.
Their loss, along with the savaging of Torpedo 6 off the Enterprise and Torpedo 3 from the Yorktown, a total of 36 out of 41 TBD Devastators launched, prevented the four carriers of the Japanese force from launching their own airstrike. Then the Dauntless dive bombers of the fleet arrived... and the rest is history.
Japanese carrier Hiryu, pummled by multiple bomb hits, burns later in the day. She would sink shortly after this picture was taken.
The USN did not escape unscathed, however. The Yorktown, hastily repaired after the Coral Sea, took multiple hits and went dead in the water.
On June 7th, after being torpedoed by a submarine, she went down.
The Battle of Midway, that "miraculous victory", was over.
The Japanese would not win another strategic victory for the rest of the war.
Midway Island.
John Waldron, Commander of Torpedo 8, takes off from USS Hornet around 7am.
Waldron's Torpedo 8 attacked the Japanese fleet at 920am. By 940am, all of the men in this picture save for Ensign George Gay (circled) were dead.
Their loss, along with the savaging of Torpedo 6 off the Enterprise and Torpedo 3 from the Yorktown, a total of 36 out of 41 TBD Devastators launched, prevented the four carriers of the Japanese force from launching their own airstrike. Then the Dauntless dive bombers of the fleet arrived... and the rest is history.
Japanese carrier Hiryu, pummled by multiple bomb hits, burns later in the day. She would sink shortly after this picture was taken.
The USN did not escape unscathed, however. The Yorktown, hastily repaired after the Coral Sea, took multiple hits and went dead in the water.
On June 7th, after being torpedoed by a submarine, she went down.
The Battle of Midway, that "miraculous victory", was over.
The Japanese would not win another strategic victory for the rest of the war.
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February 08, 2009
What If...? #2
Outwardly, Warrant Officer Takeo Koyani, pilot of the G4M, looked calm and capable. On the inside, however, he was cursing everybody involved on sending him on this stupid mission. "Fly Admiral Yamamoto on an inspection tour of the Solomons," they had said. "It'll be easy, and the morale boost will be enormous." And so it had, these past few days. Then that airstrip commander at Rabaul had warned of ambushes coming from Guadalcanal, and yet here he was, flying towards Ballale island near Bouganville... in the direction of Starvation Island itself... in a damned "One-shot Lighter." Still, here he was, and the flight had been uneventful so far. Buka was nearby, and some additional Zeros would be lifting off right about... now... to provide additional cover. Then he'd be... well, not safe exactly, but he'd feel a lot better.
Then the tailgunner shouted a warning. With a curse, Koyani pushed the nose of the G4M down, picking up speed to get closer to Buka as fast as possible. Tracers shot past the cockpit, but he heard the unmistakable sounds of bullets whipping through the fuselage. Dammit, where was his escort? A solid whump drew his attention to the left wing, where he saw a huge plume of smoke pouring from the engine. Suddenly, the G4M snap-rolled that direction. Koyani frantically struggled to level the bomber out, an American P-38 flashed by, the jungle below looked very green. "We're going to crash, brace yourself," Koyani yelled as he hauled back on the stick. Dammit, why hadn't he been picked for fighters? Why the hell was he here right now anyway?
Some miles away, an IJN minesweeper cruised in the Solomon Sea. The brief aerial struggle had been in clear view, and the captain radioed back to Rabaul that two G4Ms had been shot down by Lightnings. That task done, he turned as the man next to him spoke quietly. "No wonder we lost at Midway. They've been reading our mail." The captain nodded. "Take me back to Rabaul, Captain. I've got a lot of work to do, and the inspection can wait."
As the minesweeper came about, Admiral Isoruku Yamamoto strode from the bridge and began calling for his aides.
more...
Then the tailgunner shouted a warning. With a curse, Koyani pushed the nose of the G4M down, picking up speed to get closer to Buka as fast as possible. Tracers shot past the cockpit, but he heard the unmistakable sounds of bullets whipping through the fuselage. Dammit, where was his escort? A solid whump drew his attention to the left wing, where he saw a huge plume of smoke pouring from the engine. Suddenly, the G4M snap-rolled that direction. Koyani frantically struggled to level the bomber out, an American P-38 flashed by, the jungle below looked very green. "We're going to crash, brace yourself," Koyani yelled as he hauled back on the stick. Dammit, why hadn't he been picked for fighters? Why the hell was he here right now anyway?
Some miles away, an IJN minesweeper cruised in the Solomon Sea. The brief aerial struggle had been in clear view, and the captain radioed back to Rabaul that two G4Ms had been shot down by Lightnings. That task done, he turned as the man next to him spoke quietly. "No wonder we lost at Midway. They've been reading our mail." The captain nodded. "Take me back to Rabaul, Captain. I've got a lot of work to do, and the inspection can wait."
As the minesweeper came about, Admiral Isoruku Yamamoto strode from the bridge and began calling for his aides.
more...
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January 25, 2009
The Sole Survivor.
On December 7th, 1941, the strongest navy in the world was undoubtably the Nihon Kaigun of Japan. Foremost in this powerhouse were the fleet's 10 aircraft carriers. Carrying the best, most experienced pilots, flying the best fighter and torpedo bomber and a dive bomber that was very nearly the equal of the best, this striking force ran roughshod over the Pacific Ocean.
By the end of the war, however, all of the carriers in the fleet at the beginning had been sent to the bottom of the ocean by the "Big Blue Blanket" of the US Navy. All, that is, except for one... the Sole Survivor. Ironically, it was the smallest, slowest, oldest, least capable of Japan's flattops, the Hosho.
The Hosho was also the first ship ever built from the keel up as an aircraft carrier, commissioned on December 27th, 1922, 13 months before the HMS Hermes, the first ship designed as a CV, took to the water.
As the first carrier in the Japanese navy, it was influential in many ways, serving as a testbed for experimental methods that later became standard operational procedures for the fleet. Experience gained from the Hosho's construction and service influenced the conversion of the Kaga and Akagi, and led directly to the design of the Ryujo.
By the time of Pearl Harbor, however, the Hosho was only just barely able to operate with the rest of the fleet. She was too small and slow to be able to handle the modern Zero, Kate and Val planes, and was only just able to fly the A5M Claude off her deck in the best of situations (fresh headwinds with a relatively calm sea). As this combination was rare at best, and the Claude was obsolete as a whole and rapidly retired, this quickly left the Hosho without a fighter it could carry. During the Battle of Midway, where she gave the battleships of Yamamoto's Main Body a tiny organic air capability, the Hosho was carrying eight B4Y Jean torpedo bombers.
It was one of these planes that took the famous picture of the burning Hiryu after she had been pummeled by Dauntless bombers at Midway.
After Midway, the Japanese fleet was desperate for carrier decks. Despite this, the Hosho was removed from active duty as a combatant on June 20th, 1942. She was then used exclusively for landing exercises and carrier training in the Inland Sea of Japan. She very nearly escaped the war unharmed.
On March 19th, 1945, while operating near the battleship Yamato in the Inland Sea, the Hosho was attacked by seven planes. She suffered either a small bomb or a rocket hit that punched a few small holes in her flight deck, losing six crewmen in the process. The war revisited the Hosho on July 24th, 1945, when she was attacked in harbor on July 24th, 1945, and she reportedly took one hit for scant damage.
After the war ended, she was used as a troop carrier to bring Japanese soldiers home from Wotje and Jaluit. Struck from the list in 1946, she was finally broken up for scrap on May 1st, 1947.
Hosho, the Sole Survior, was no more.
By the end of the war, however, all of the carriers in the fleet at the beginning had been sent to the bottom of the ocean by the "Big Blue Blanket" of the US Navy. All, that is, except for one... the Sole Survivor. Ironically, it was the smallest, slowest, oldest, least capable of Japan's flattops, the Hosho.
The Hosho was also the first ship ever built from the keel up as an aircraft carrier, commissioned on December 27th, 1922, 13 months before the HMS Hermes, the first ship designed as a CV, took to the water.
As the first carrier in the Japanese navy, it was influential in many ways, serving as a testbed for experimental methods that later became standard operational procedures for the fleet. Experience gained from the Hosho's construction and service influenced the conversion of the Kaga and Akagi, and led directly to the design of the Ryujo.
By the time of Pearl Harbor, however, the Hosho was only just barely able to operate with the rest of the fleet. She was too small and slow to be able to handle the modern Zero, Kate and Val planes, and was only just able to fly the A5M Claude off her deck in the best of situations (fresh headwinds with a relatively calm sea). As this combination was rare at best, and the Claude was obsolete as a whole and rapidly retired, this quickly left the Hosho without a fighter it could carry. During the Battle of Midway, where she gave the battleships of Yamamoto's Main Body a tiny organic air capability, the Hosho was carrying eight B4Y Jean torpedo bombers.
It was one of these planes that took the famous picture of the burning Hiryu after she had been pummeled by Dauntless bombers at Midway.
After Midway, the Japanese fleet was desperate for carrier decks. Despite this, the Hosho was removed from active duty as a combatant on June 20th, 1942. She was then used exclusively for landing exercises and carrier training in the Inland Sea of Japan. She very nearly escaped the war unharmed.
On March 19th, 1945, while operating near the battleship Yamato in the Inland Sea, the Hosho was attacked by seven planes. She suffered either a small bomb or a rocket hit that punched a few small holes in her flight deck, losing six crewmen in the process. The war revisited the Hosho on July 24th, 1945, when she was attacked in harbor on July 24th, 1945, and she reportedly took one hit for scant damage.
After the war ended, she was used as a troop carrier to bring Japanese soldiers home from Wotje and Jaluit. Struck from the list in 1946, she was finally broken up for scrap on May 1st, 1947.
Hosho, the Sole Survior, was no more.
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January 03, 2009
A Dawn Like Thunder
Readers of The Pond know that I have a thing for the Pacific War, and even moreso for the Battle of Midway. The study of that period is one of my avid hobbies, and is what lead me to my fondness of Japan in general and eventually anime in particular (though in a fairly roundabout way). I know quite a bit about the strategies used by both sides in the conflict, and could talk tactics with confidence as well.
With a few exceptions however, the one thing I don't have much knowlege about is the people involved. Oh, I don't mean the Halseys and Nagumos, but the Chucks and Morts and Joes and Mitsuos and Hidekis... what about them?
While I was doing my Christmas shopping at a local bookstore, I stumbled on a new release that seemed to have been aimed directly at my bump of curiosity. A Dawn Like Thunder: The True Story of Torpedo Squadron 8, by Robert J. Mrazek tells the stories of the men made famous by the Battle of Midway, the only squadron flying off the USS Hornet to make contact with the enemy on that day in June, 1942... and which was almost entirely wiped out as it made its run on the Japanese carriers. All the squadron's Devastators torpedo bombers were shot down, and only one man, George Gay, survived.
But that wasn't the whole squadron. Historians of the battle will remember that the first six Avengers in US Navy service were flying from Midway's single runway after a hurried deployment from Pearl Harbor just before the battle. They, too, were part of Torpedo 8, a detachment left behind when the Hornet sailed. Further, another group of VT-8 pilots and crewmen, including the squadron XO, remained behind at Pearl waiting for the rest of the Avengers to arrive.
Later, VT-8 wound up flying from the USS Saratoga until it was torpedoed. Many of her squadrons wound up at Espiritu Santo, and some of them wound up going to Guadalcanal as part of the Cactus Air Force. VT-8 was one of those. The second half of the book covers that period of time, and the many, many trials the squadron suffered through. Indeed, VT-8 suffered the highest casualties amongst naval squadrons at both Midway and Guadalcanal. At Midway, 45 of 48 officers and men serving in Torpedo 8 were killed. At Guadalcanal, seven of the remaining members were killed and another eight wounded.
It also wound up one of the most decorated squadrons in Navy history, if not the most decorated in US service, period. It was the only squadron to receive two Presidental Unit Citations from FDR. Its 35 pilots earned 39 Navy Crosses before it was decommissioned after Guadalcanal.
A Dawn Like Thunder is written almost entirely from interviews conducted with the few members of VT-8 still living, and from letters and memoirs by those who've passed away. We meet men like Swede Larson, the squadron XO who took command of the squadron after Midway. We learn that as a leader, he was a martinet who wasn't afraid to belittle his men, issued promotions not on how they performed but if he liked them or not. Twice, men under his command were pushed so far that they pulled their sidearms on him. He was also a courageous pilot (though one who refused to admit mistakes). We meet Bert Earnest, the pilot of the single Avenger to make it back to Midway, though so shot full of holes that it never flew again. He then went on to survive Guadalcanal, and WWII as a whole. We meet Chief Petty Officer James Hammond, who won a Silver Star at Guadalcanal in large part because he built three 'Frankenstein Avengers', piecing scraps of many planes together to make one (barely flyable) bomber. This at a time when the Cactus Air Force was down to a bare handful of planes. The lineup of pilots and crew goes on, but you never feel like anybody is getting short shrift. The wives and girlfriends of some of the men even get their nods.
Robert Mrazek has done a fine job of tying all his research together and turning it into a coherent and readable story. The small number of inaccuracies (Midway was described as having two airfields in 1942, when there was only one, for example) are easily overlooked, and don't detract from the superb job he's done telling the human story of Torpedo 8. Highly recommended!
Mrazek and many of the men he wrote about are members of the Battle of Midway Roundtable, an organization that's been in existence since 1997. I'm proud to be a member myself. It's free to join, and if you're interested in the Battle of Midway or the Pacific War, you owe it to yourself to become a member.
With a few exceptions however, the one thing I don't have much knowlege about is the people involved. Oh, I don't mean the Halseys and Nagumos, but the Chucks and Morts and Joes and Mitsuos and Hidekis... what about them?
While I was doing my Christmas shopping at a local bookstore, I stumbled on a new release that seemed to have been aimed directly at my bump of curiosity. A Dawn Like Thunder: The True Story of Torpedo Squadron 8, by Robert J. Mrazek tells the stories of the men made famous by the Battle of Midway, the only squadron flying off the USS Hornet to make contact with the enemy on that day in June, 1942... and which was almost entirely wiped out as it made its run on the Japanese carriers. All the squadron's Devastators torpedo bombers were shot down, and only one man, George Gay, survived.
But that wasn't the whole squadron. Historians of the battle will remember that the first six Avengers in US Navy service were flying from Midway's single runway after a hurried deployment from Pearl Harbor just before the battle. They, too, were part of Torpedo 8, a detachment left behind when the Hornet sailed. Further, another group of VT-8 pilots and crewmen, including the squadron XO, remained behind at Pearl waiting for the rest of the Avengers to arrive.
Later, VT-8 wound up flying from the USS Saratoga until it was torpedoed. Many of her squadrons wound up at Espiritu Santo, and some of them wound up going to Guadalcanal as part of the Cactus Air Force. VT-8 was one of those. The second half of the book covers that period of time, and the many, many trials the squadron suffered through. Indeed, VT-8 suffered the highest casualties amongst naval squadrons at both Midway and Guadalcanal. At Midway, 45 of 48 officers and men serving in Torpedo 8 were killed. At Guadalcanal, seven of the remaining members were killed and another eight wounded.
It also wound up one of the most decorated squadrons in Navy history, if not the most decorated in US service, period. It was the only squadron to receive two Presidental Unit Citations from FDR. Its 35 pilots earned 39 Navy Crosses before it was decommissioned after Guadalcanal.
A Dawn Like Thunder is written almost entirely from interviews conducted with the few members of VT-8 still living, and from letters and memoirs by those who've passed away. We meet men like Swede Larson, the squadron XO who took command of the squadron after Midway. We learn that as a leader, he was a martinet who wasn't afraid to belittle his men, issued promotions not on how they performed but if he liked them or not. Twice, men under his command were pushed so far that they pulled their sidearms on him. He was also a courageous pilot (though one who refused to admit mistakes). We meet Bert Earnest, the pilot of the single Avenger to make it back to Midway, though so shot full of holes that it never flew again. He then went on to survive Guadalcanal, and WWII as a whole. We meet Chief Petty Officer James Hammond, who won a Silver Star at Guadalcanal in large part because he built three 'Frankenstein Avengers', piecing scraps of many planes together to make one (barely flyable) bomber. This at a time when the Cactus Air Force was down to a bare handful of planes. The lineup of pilots and crew goes on, but you never feel like anybody is getting short shrift. The wives and girlfriends of some of the men even get their nods.
Robert Mrazek has done a fine job of tying all his research together and turning it into a coherent and readable story. The small number of inaccuracies (Midway was described as having two airfields in 1942, when there was only one, for example) are easily overlooked, and don't detract from the superb job he's done telling the human story of Torpedo 8. Highly recommended!
Mrazek and many of the men he wrote about are members of the Battle of Midway Roundtable, an organization that's been in existence since 1997. I'm proud to be a member myself. It's free to join, and if you're interested in the Battle of Midway or the Pacific War, you owe it to yourself to become a member.
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August 21, 2008
Flight Deck Round-Downs... Why?
The early days of aircraft carrier design saw a lot of different concepts that eventually went by the wayside. Such "innovations" as multiple flight decks (so airplanes could launch directly from their hangars), transverse-mounted catapults that launched planes perpendicular to the direction of travel (ditto), longitudinal arrestor wires, arrestor gear at both bow and stern (so if one end of the flight deck had a hole in it, the ship could steam in the other direction and launch planes from the undamaged end), carriers without islands, the list goes on and on. All of these elements made sense, however, and one can see why an Admiralty could think they were good ideas at the time.
One design feature of some early carriers, however, has always struck me as being particularly pointless, with no redeeming features whatsoever: the flight deck round-down.
One design feature of some early carriers, however, has always struck me as being particularly pointless, with no redeeming features whatsoever: the flight deck round-down.
HMS Hermes
As can be seen in the above picture, a round-down is a sharply sloping portion of the aft end of a flight deck, a location particularly unsuitable to topography of any sort.
IJN Akagi, circa 1927-'35. Note the "fly-off" decks, right, round-down left.
In the book Shattered Sword, it's mentioned that the Akagi's round-down is so pronounced that it, in effect, shortens her flight deck, as planes cannot be spotted there without having them roll off into the sea.
So why are they there at all? Throughout all my readings through the years, the only reason I've seen is that they were thought to be aerodynamically helpful for landing planes, perhaps by creating an are of calm air behind the ship.
But even if that were so, doesn't it seem that it'd be a rather ill-positioned lee for an aircraft attempting to land, not to mention small? Further, they also look like a fairly hostile place to try and land upon in the first place. Imagine: you touch down on the round-down, crest the "hill", and then? You're thrown back into the air, much like today's "ski-ramp" carrier decks would do.
Do any of you, my readers, have an idea? I'm completely flummoxed here!
So why are they there at all? Throughout all my readings through the years, the only reason I've seen is that they were thought to be aerodynamically helpful for landing planes, perhaps by creating an are of calm air behind the ship.
But even if that were so, doesn't it seem that it'd be a rather ill-positioned lee for an aircraft attempting to land, not to mention small? Further, they also look like a fairly hostile place to try and land upon in the first place. Imagine: you touch down on the round-down, crest the "hill", and then? You're thrown back into the air, much like today's "ski-ramp" carrier decks would do.
Do any of you, my readers, have an idea? I'm completely flummoxed here!
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August 16, 2008
An Unfortunate Encounter
I'd like to relate to my readers something that happened to me earlier today, something that can only be described as confusing, perplexed and, ultimately, sad.
This morning, I went grocery shopping at a local store that has a fairly decent "international foods" section. You know the type: Mexican staples, Indian chutneys and the like. There's also a wide selection of Asian foodstuffs, including Japanese things like soba, 10 different types of soy sauce, some microwaveable beef bowls (awful), a couple of different flavors of Pocky, instant miso, sushi fixings, yadda yadda...
I was browsing through the section, trying to decide if I wanted to get a cheap packet of instant miso (I did, eventually) along with the Pocky and some hot sauce (good to add to chili) when an elderly man said to me "you shouldn't buy that (crap)." I gave him a surprised look and asked, intelligently, "what?"
He repeated his assertion, adding "it's made by the Nips."
By now, my eyebrows had long left my forehead and headed for the stratosphere. Like an idiot, though, I asked him what's wrong with getting Japanese food. It's awfully tasty, after all. He visibly became angry with me as he said (I'm paraphrasing here) "I fought them in the Philippines, they shot me and killed some of my friends, I hate those damn Japs and I will until the day I die."
I want you to imagine my state of mind at this moment: standing in front of me was a man I automatically honor, a WWII vet, and one who fought in the Pacific theatre no less, an area of history I'm fascinated in. At the same time, though, he's trashing an entire race of people (including some that I'd call casual friends: Duck U has an exchange program with a Japanese college, so there's always around 5-10 students from there attending) for events that happened over sixty years ago, and a culture that I enjoy learning about to boot.
To say that I was confused and saddened just then would be accurate. I would have loved to have spoken with him about his experiences if he would have let me, but at the same time his attitude (and don't get me wrong, I understand where it comes from: if you're not going to like someone or something, seeing your friends killed and being shot yourself is a pretty good reason) was distasteful at best.
Fortunately, he didn't recognize the baseball cap I was wearing (the Hanshin Tigers, brought back from Japan by a Duck U student for me). After heaping some more abuse on "the Nips" and scorn on me, he stalked off (as best he could, using a cane and an old person's shuffle) muttering under his breath.
I'm still disturbed by the whole thing. I think of Brickmuppet, who's touristing in Japan right now, and wonder if there's old members of the Imperial Japanese Army who might want to chew him out, or skewer him with a bayonet if they could get away with it, just for being American. I think of my DVD rack, filled with anime, and my end-table, covered with pockyboxes... and one of my bookcases, stuffed with history books about the Pacific war.
And I wonder which of us has the right of it: the elderly man who fought and bled for our country, who's attitudes are over a half-century out of date? Or myself, who has the more modern attitudes, but who respects the actions of the other man.
In this multi-culti, politically correct world, are the experiences of the old soldier scornworthy? I'm glad I don't feel the way he does, but is he wrong to feel that way?
This morning, I went grocery shopping at a local store that has a fairly decent "international foods" section. You know the type: Mexican staples, Indian chutneys and the like. There's also a wide selection of Asian foodstuffs, including Japanese things like soba, 10 different types of soy sauce, some microwaveable beef bowls (awful), a couple of different flavors of Pocky, instant miso, sushi fixings, yadda yadda...
I was browsing through the section, trying to decide if I wanted to get a cheap packet of instant miso (I did, eventually) along with the Pocky and some hot sauce (good to add to chili) when an elderly man said to me "you shouldn't buy that (crap)." I gave him a surprised look and asked, intelligently, "what?"
He repeated his assertion, adding "it's made by the Nips."
By now, my eyebrows had long left my forehead and headed for the stratosphere. Like an idiot, though, I asked him what's wrong with getting Japanese food. It's awfully tasty, after all. He visibly became angry with me as he said (I'm paraphrasing here) "I fought them in the Philippines, they shot me and killed some of my friends, I hate those damn Japs and I will until the day I die."
I want you to imagine my state of mind at this moment: standing in front of me was a man I automatically honor, a WWII vet, and one who fought in the Pacific theatre no less, an area of history I'm fascinated in. At the same time, though, he's trashing an entire race of people (including some that I'd call casual friends: Duck U has an exchange program with a Japanese college, so there's always around 5-10 students from there attending) for events that happened over sixty years ago, and a culture that I enjoy learning about to boot.
To say that I was confused and saddened just then would be accurate. I would have loved to have spoken with him about his experiences if he would have let me, but at the same time his attitude (and don't get me wrong, I understand where it comes from: if you're not going to like someone or something, seeing your friends killed and being shot yourself is a pretty good reason) was distasteful at best.
Fortunately, he didn't recognize the baseball cap I was wearing (the Hanshin Tigers, brought back from Japan by a Duck U student for me). After heaping some more abuse on "the Nips" and scorn on me, he stalked off (as best he could, using a cane and an old person's shuffle) muttering under his breath.
I'm still disturbed by the whole thing. I think of Brickmuppet, who's touristing in Japan right now, and wonder if there's old members of the Imperial Japanese Army who might want to chew him out, or skewer him with a bayonet if they could get away with it, just for being American. I think of my DVD rack, filled with anime, and my end-table, covered with pockyboxes... and one of my bookcases, stuffed with history books about the Pacific war.
And I wonder which of us has the right of it: the elderly man who fought and bled for our country, who's attitudes are over a half-century out of date? Or myself, who has the more modern attitudes, but who respects the actions of the other man.
In this multi-culti, politically correct world, are the experiences of the old soldier scornworthy? I'm glad I don't feel the way he does, but is he wrong to feel that way?
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June 09, 2008
T-Bird Sunday
So as has been previously related, the weather around The Pond on Sunday was pretty miserable. Until around 1230pm, there were thunderstorms and high winds which caused no end of havoc, which prevented the Duckford AirFest from doing anything at all.
But the storms blew away, and with a four hour window before the next ones were supposed to happen, AirFest threw the schedule out the window and went for broke: how many teams can we get in the air in a limited amount of time?
The answer was "most of them." The Pond was alive with the roars of jet engines and the growls of prop planes for a good while, but the prevailing winds were such that none of the actual planes came anywhere near Pond Central.
330pm. The Thunderbirds could be clearly heard taking off in the distance. I couldn't take my usual position off in the field behind Pond Central, since there were small rivers running through it, rivers that only form when it rains really hard, so I had to hope that I'd be able to get a pic or two from Pond Balcony.
Yup.
Not bad, but I like this one better:
Different pass from them, same nice tight formation. Less zoom, too.
The Thunderbirds didn't come into view for the rest of the performance. Drat. Never saw the two solos, either. Double-drat. The diamond is amazing to see, holding that ridiculously tight formation as they blitz by at high speed, low altitude.
Oh, and the Snowbirds? They were at the Canadian Grand Prix. Good reason not to be here!
But the storms blew away, and with a four hour window before the next ones were supposed to happen, AirFest threw the schedule out the window and went for broke: how many teams can we get in the air in a limited amount of time?
The answer was "most of them." The Pond was alive with the roars of jet engines and the growls of prop planes for a good while, but the prevailing winds were such that none of the actual planes came anywhere near Pond Central.
330pm. The Thunderbirds could be clearly heard taking off in the distance. I couldn't take my usual position off in the field behind Pond Central, since there were small rivers running through it, rivers that only form when it rains really hard, so I had to hope that I'd be able to get a pic or two from Pond Balcony.
Yup.
I had to adjust the contrast on this, but otherwise, it's as it came out of the camera.
Not bad, but I like this one better:
Different pass from them, same nice tight formation. Less zoom, too.
The Thunderbirds didn't come into view for the rest of the performance. Drat. Never saw the two solos, either. Double-drat. The diamond is amazing to see, holding that ridiculously tight formation as they blitz by at high speed, low altitude.
Oh, and the Snowbirds? They were at the Canadian Grand Prix. Good reason not to be here!
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June 07, 2008
Thunderbirds Are GO!
In fact, it was such an ugly looking storm, that the Thunderbirds ended their (roughly hour-long) program after about 20 minutes. Good thing, too: about five minutes after they landed, just as I made it back to Pond Central, it became as night and the rain began to bucket down.
Even before that, though, I pretty much knew that I wasn't going to get any pictures as interesting as last year's. The Thunderbirds' F-16 is smaller than the F/A-18 flown by the Blue Angels, seemed to be flying higher than last year's show, and the mostly white colorscheme did nothing to make them stand out against the low-ish clouds. Hopefully Sunday will be a nicer day (the weather forecast doesn't look promising, though) and let me take some better pics.
Yes, this is the best I could do today...
Today was a weird weather day for the Duckford AirFest. Sudden downpours, hot, muggy, and very windy played hob with the schedule. Out of the shot, about ten or 15 miles in the direction of travel, was a VERY ugly looking storm front, which was headed towards The Pond at a good clip. In fact, it was such an ugly looking storm, that the Thunderbirds ended their (roughly hour-long) program after about 20 minutes. Good thing, too: about five minutes after they landed, just as I made it back to Pond Central, it became as night and the rain began to bucket down.
Even before that, though, I pretty much knew that I wasn't going to get any pictures as interesting as last year's. The Thunderbirds' F-16 is smaller than the F/A-18 flown by the Blue Angels, seemed to be flying higher than last year's show, and the mostly white colorscheme did nothing to make them stand out against the low-ish clouds. Hopefully Sunday will be a nicer day (the weather forecast doesn't look promising, though) and let me take some better pics.
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January 23, 2008
What If...?
It was a brilliantly sunny day that Sunday morning, seemingly not a cloud in the sky. People made their way to church, or did laundry, played golf or slept in. Out in the harbor, motorboats took men from one point to another, seemingly at random.
A few miles out to sea, a metal behemoth sailed towards the harbor. On its flat wooden deck, a white painted number "6" gleamed in the Pacific sun. The Enterprise was coming home. The time: 710am. The date: December 7th, 1941.
The term "first order counterfactual" refers to the changing of one detail of a recorded event, and seeing where that change takes you. In the world of "alternative history," such as Harry Turtledove's writings, a first order counterfactual may be something as simple as the Confederate Lost Orders not falling out of an officer's jacket, leading to the United States being divided permanently.
742am. A huge flight of Japanese fighters and attack planes approach Pearl Harbor. Captain Mitsuo Fuchida, gazing out of the cockpit of his Nakajima B5N, has just keyed his radio to life. "Tora tora tora!"
Back on board the Akagi, the flagship of the attacking Japanese fleet, static whispers through the speakers of the radio room. Then, unexpectedly, Fuchida speaks again. "There's a carrier in the harbor!"
In the actual events of history, the Enterprise had been on a mission to Wake Island, delivering fighters to the garrison located there. Scheduled to return to Pearl Harbor on December 6th, she was running late... and thereby missed out on being the main target of the December 7th attacks.
more...
A few miles out to sea, a metal behemoth sailed towards the harbor. On its flat wooden deck, a white painted number "6" gleamed in the Pacific sun. The Enterprise was coming home. The time: 710am. The date: December 7th, 1941.
The term "first order counterfactual" refers to the changing of one detail of a recorded event, and seeing where that change takes you. In the world of "alternative history," such as Harry Turtledove's writings, a first order counterfactual may be something as simple as the Confederate Lost Orders not falling out of an officer's jacket, leading to the United States being divided permanently.
742am. A huge flight of Japanese fighters and attack planes approach Pearl Harbor. Captain Mitsuo Fuchida, gazing out of the cockpit of his Nakajima B5N, has just keyed his radio to life. "Tora tora tora!"
Back on board the Akagi, the flagship of the attacking Japanese fleet, static whispers through the speakers of the radio room. Then, unexpectedly, Fuchida speaks again. "There's a carrier in the harbor!"
In the actual events of history, the Enterprise had been on a mission to Wake Island, delivering fighters to the garrison located there. Scheduled to return to Pearl Harbor on December 6th, she was running late... and thereby missed out on being the main target of the December 7th attacks.
more...
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June 05, 2007
Midway Myths Debunked
Today, June 5th, is the 65th anniversary of one of the biggest victories in US Naval history, the Battle of Midway. LGF links to a post on the battle that, while well-written, brings out the usual myths of "The Miracle At Midway".
The story of Midway is well-known by now, thanks to numerous books and one feature film. Most of these books, and the movie, were mostly (if not entirely) based on American sources and a perishingly few translated Japanese "I was there" accounts that were never checked for accuracy.
Now that more researchers are able to read the raw Japanese data, such as the official War history of Japan (the Senshi Sosho), it's clear that much of what we "know" of the battle of Midway needs to be reevaluated.
Let's go over some of those myths, shall we?
1) "The near total destruction of the first wave of U.S. pilots and crew on board the "low and slow†torpedo bombers was not in vain; it alone made possible the exact conditions that allowed 50 U.S. dive bombers to send the Japanese armada to the bottom of the ocean minutes later."
2) "Four sitting duck Japanese carriers, without their protective shield of Zero fighter planes, with scores if not hundreds of Japanese planes sitting on the carrier decks, strewn with ordnance, fuel and crew..."
3) "The combined Japanese Alaskan and Midway forces, including those in support role, involved 200 ships, including 8 carriers, 11 battleships, 22 cruisers, 65 destroyers, 21 submarines and approximately 700 aircraft."
4)"A small Japanese carrier group first launched an attack on Alaska, intended to draw the U.S. Fleet out of Pearl..."
5)"The US Navy - outnumbered in carriers, ships, technology, planes and pilots - had achieved the greatest naval victory in modern history."
I'll discuss all of these below... read on, won't you?
more...
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