Wednesday, November 3, 2021

First Battle of the Philippine Sea

 

At about 1600, all Task Group Commanders were directed to launch the first deckload. At this point, I was spotted on deck in the number one position and looked towards Primary Flight Control for the blackboard notation which would give us the last range and bearing towards the enemy. 
 
In place of range, a latitude and longitude were posted. As all pilots made the plot and measured the distance, they realized that with the  speed of advance estimated for the enemy we would be pursuing them beyond the range of our aircraft and so far as our capability to return tour ships. 
 
We were under radio silence, but one could hear the microphone buttons click as various of  the pilots apparently picked up the mikes to voice their surprise or objections—but not a single voice was heard. With the signal to launch aircraft, we looked at one another, gave a thumbs-up signal, and shoved off headed west. I throttled back immediately on takeoff, and gave the signal for a running rendezvous in order to conserve gas. With a slow climb, we headed due west and the Air Group was completely rendezvoused within about 30 minutes. After reaching about 10,000 feet we leveled off, leaned our mixture out, and I proceeded to move ahead with several fighters to scout out the situation.
 
The flight to the target was probably unparalleled in the history of naval aviation. Each pilot knew that the target was beyond the combat radius of our planes. I had decided that if the enemy fleet finally was discovered even further west than originally plotted, it would be best to pursue and attack, retire as far as possible before darkness set in, notify ship by key, and then have all planes in the group land in the water in the same vicinity so that rafts could be lashed together and mutual rescues could be effected. When the target was found at about 300 miles it was decided that the best gamble was to have the pilots in groups attempt to return to the ship in hopes of saving some few planes.
 
The approach towards the target was made with the Yorktown group in company. Transmissions from each of the Group Commanders from the other task groups could be heard approaching the target. It was apparent, as we neared the target, that the Japanese Fleet was divided into three groups. By listening to transmissions from the other group commanders, I determined that they were going to attack the southern group (3 AO, 3 GA, DD) and the western group (5 BB,2  CV[Hitaka  Class], 2  CVE [Ryuho  Class],  several CA and about 4 DD).
 
My primary concern was to avoid overlooking the third enemy group of ships, so that no group would get away undamaged. This had happened in the battle of the Coral Sea to old Air Group Two. 
 
As our Air Group approached the Japanese Fleet Units, our presence was acknowledged by an increasing array of antiaircraft bursts, some white, some pink, but increasing to the point where it appeared the planes were almost floating on small white and pink clouds. The carriers and cruisers began to maneuver circles and S turns making patterns in the sea be-
low, while to the west the sun was setting.
 
By scouting ahead of our approaching group I had an opportunity to see all three groups, and immediately ordered the attack on the northern group consisting of 1 CV (Zuikaku Class), about 10 CA and CL, and about 14-16 DD. Since no fighter opposition was in evidence our fighter-bombers were first to attack. The bombers were all ordered on the large CV as were the torpedo planes (VT).
 
It was a little disappointing that some VT had been loaded with 4-500# G.P. as all hands in the VT squadrons had been looking forward  to the day they could put a fish in the Zuikaku or Shokaku. It is believed a better loading would have been fish for all VT planes. 
 
The torpedo planes with bombs could not go in with the bombers because of steepness of the dive angle and so had to follow them. Since our primary mission was to knock out the enemy carriers, it would appear that torpedoes would have been more appropriate. Glide bombing a maneuvering ship is extremely difficult.The attack executed by the bombing squadron was superb. 
Of the first six planes to dive, I observed one carrier hit in the center of the deck forward of the island structure and five near misses so close the splash could not be observed. The second division of nine planes came down so fast it was al-most impossible to count the hits. I counted to seven and saw no splashes, so estimated the other two were either hits or very near misses.
 
Upon completion of the attack, and as darkness was setting in, I gave the rendezvous signal and proceeded on a dead reckoning course to attempt to intercept our carriers.  My radio transmitter had been shot out, although my receiver was working. But, I was unsuccessful in attempting to turn the lead over to a young ensign who had joined up for the return flight. The young pilots always seemed to assume that the Air Group Commander would lead them home, radio or no radio.
 
As planes began to join up en route back to the carriers, I gave the close-up signal in order to attempt to count the air-craft accompanying me and to observe those that I was certain would go down for lack of fuel somewhere on our return trip. I gave a visual signal to my wingmen to lean back the mixture control, and then paid attention to my navigation and attempted to verify the intensity of the wind over the water to improve my dead reckoning track.  Complete darkness was with us at this point and I received my first report of an aircraft making a forced landing in the ocean. I plotted his position, but was unable to acknowledge because of my transmitter and the same thing occurred many times that night.
 
In all, 7 fighters, 2 torpedo planes and 12 dive bombers from the Hornet Air Group splashed before we reached the carrier area. There appeared to be some confusion in the Task  Force as signals were first given to the Destroyers to make smoke. This probably was because they felt we were lost. It would have been a fine signal in the daytime, but at night it only added to the intensity  of the  darkness  and almost screened the ships from view.
 
 
Finally, much to our surprise, there were many searchlights flashing in the sky. As we flew overhead and identified our re-spective carriers, I noticed that my gauge was reading empty but decided that some of the boys were in a worse position. I gave the break-up signal and led the first group down into the groove, after which I waved off and let the others land and tried to lead some of the stragglers back to the carrier.
 
 After some time had lapsed, the carrier notified me that I could land aboard but that due to deck crashes, only one arresting cable remained intact. I approached for a straight-in approach, receiving the wands from the Signal Officer, and was told that I was the only aircraft in the air. Much to my surprise, a shadow of an aircraft appeared in the line of vision between the Signal Officer and myself. Immediately the Signal Officer appeared to give a wave off. I was not sure whether the wave off was for me or the unknown aircraft, but decided to take it and land in the water alongside.
 
As I applied the throttle the engine quit while I was some 50 feet in the air over the ramp. I pushed the nose of the Hellcat over and dived for the deck. At the same time I hit one brake in an attempt to loop the aircraft into the walkway to keep it from going up the deck into the parked aircraft. I was successful, and as the plane started over the side in a tail first position, the raised 40 mm gun mounts alongside the deck stopped the aircraft from going over the side.  Some 10 or 15 of the Flight Deck crew hung onto the wing while I climbed out of the cockpit up to the flight deck with chart board under arm. 
 
As I reached the flight deck, they let go of the plane and it went over the side—with my film of the battle! I proceeded to the bridge with my chart board and plot of aircraft down and delivered it to Admiral Jocko Clark. After a brief report, I went below for a sandwich and swig of "tea." It had been six hours since takeoff.
 
After rescue operations were completed the next day, our total losses were one bomber pilot and crew member lost in combat, and one bomber crewman lost in the water landings.
 
Pages 112-114 “Battles of the Phillipine Sea” by VADM Charles A. Lockwood and COL Hans Christian Adamson 1967.