'Perfect in Every Respect'

"Gentlemen," Captain Kaju Sugiura, commander of Japanese Destroyer Division 12, began, "I am very happy to report that our last transport mission to Kolombangara was a complete success. Both the Navy and the Army high command are gratified. . . . They have also ordered that the mission be repeated the day after tomorrow. . . . We shall go through Vella Gulf and Blackett Strait again . . . exactly as we did last time."¹ [1]

Captain Tameichi Hara, commander of the destroyer Shigure, listened to the 4 August 1943 briefing in stunned silence. Before Sugiura had finished, Hara came to believe that his ship and those of the other commanding officers in attendance were unnecessarily being placed at grave risk. But the plan to resupply Japanese forces on Kolombangara, in the central Solomons, had been approved, and rigidity in the imperial command structure precluded meaningful dissent. Any public disagreement could have been considered treasonous. Hara was suspicious of optimistic damage assessments from the previous two missions and concerned about the possibility of an ambush. In a notable understatement, just prior to sailing the next day he told an acquaintance, "This operation, at best, is unreasonable."² [1]

Hara had good reason to worry. The Americans were indeed preparing a surprise attack in Vella Gulf. The tactics they planned to use would revolutionize American destroyer combat operations and set the stage for stunning future victories. Despite heavy losses during the early days of the war, the cream of American destroyermen had finally risen to the top; the strategic situation in the Pacific was about to change.

By August 1943, the Solomons campaign was a year old. U.S. forces had chased the last Japanese from Guadalcanal in February of that year and invaded New Georgia, farther up the island chain, in early July. Over the next month, fierce fighting raged for control of the New Georgia air base at Munda Point, with the Japanese funneling troops into the battle via the nearby island of Kolombangara.

The U.S. and Japanese navies were like punch-drunk heavyweights in the 11th round of a 15-round bout—bloodied and tired yet dangerous and within arm's reach. In a series of significant engagements during the previous year, some as costly as any other naval battles fought in U.S. history, each side had lost tens of warships and thousands of experienced Sailors and pilots. American cruiser losses around Guadalcanal had been appalling; so many had been sunk or severely damaged that destroyers rose to prominence almost by default.

Though often victorious early in the Solomons campaign, the Imperial Japanese Navy was hardly in better shape than its opponent. Allied aircraft and warships had whittled away at inventory and effectiveness, and Japan had insufficient industrial capacity to quickly replace losses. Because of excellent prewar planning and training, the Japanese held a tactical advantage at night in the contested waters, but daylight operations were so fraught with risk that they ceded much of New Georgia Sound (the "Slot") to the Allies when the sun was up. Few Japanese ships and no aircraft had radar; engagements were fought within visual range with torpedoes and guns.

The ongoing Japanese commitment to hold onto Munda and retake the lower Solomons presented stiff operational and logistics challenges—thousands of troops had to be landed and resupplied at a variety of locations while Allied ships and planes patrolled the Slot. Earlier in the campaign, slow barges and lightly armed amphibious ships had quickly proved to be lucrative targets for American pilots, and unexpected losses compelled the Japanese to change tactics. To improve resupply effectiveness, a number of destroyers were modified to support logistics operations; their speed and self-defense capabilities were clearly beneficial when operating in potentially hostile waters.

These destroyers, dubbed the "Tokyo Express," were now regularly departing from bases farther up the Solomons chain; dropping off personnel, fuel, and cargo at Vila Point near the southern tip of Kolombangara; and then racing back up the Slot to be outside the range of American fighter-bombers before dawn. At the battles of Kula Gulf (5-6 July) and Kolombangara (12-13 July) U.S. Navy cruiser-destroyer groups had failed to halt two of the missions.

With U.S. warships prowling Kula Gulf, the Japanese successfully used a different route later that month, via Vella Gulf and Blackett Strait. By the end of July, the Japanese had begun withdrawing from Munda to Kolombangara and other islands, where they hoped to regroup and, once sufficiently reinforced, recapture New Georgia. The Tokyo Express runs, therefore, continued. When the destroyers again used the Vella Gulf route on the night of 1-2 August, they clashed with U.S. PT boats. One of the tin cans sliced through PT-109, skippered by Lieutenant John F. Kennedy. On the 4th, Captain Sugiura told his destroyer captains they would try the route yet again.

Technology and Tactics

The causes of American losses in the South Pacific between 1941 and 1943 included insufficient innovation in the interwar years, organizational rigidity, and inadequate weapon engineering, particularly with torpedoes. Retired Navy Captain Russell S. Crenshaw Jr., a shiphandling expert and Vella Gulf veteran, observed that perhaps "the most important single factor in both the conduct and outcome of the night surface actions fought during the Solomons campaign was the unbelievable ignorance of the American commanders about the performance of destroyer torpedoes, both theirs and ours."³ [1]

From December 1941 to August 1943, unsuspecting American submariners were armed with torpedoes that ran deep and often did not explode. Well-intentioned but parochial weapons engineers dismissed recurring problems as operator error. Against the wishes of the Bureau of Ordnance, the Pacific Fleet's submarine force commander, Vice Admiral Charles Lockwood, finally directed the MK 14 torpedoes' highly classified MK 6 magnetic influence exploders to be disabled.

Like its submarine-launched brother, the surface-launched MK 15 torpedo also had problems. It consistently ran 10 to 11 feet deeper than designed and new exploders (used in lieu of the much-maligned MK 6) often failed when the speed of the torpedo and size of the warhead were changed. No one anticipated that an increase in kinetic energy at impact would tend to destroy the exploder before it could fuze. Unless the weapon ran at the minimum depth of five feet and struck at an oblique angle, it invariably did not detonate or missed entirely.

The Japanese, however, had built, tested, and deployed a highly effective torpedo by the mid-1930s. After recognizing that the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 limited their ability to compete with the American Navy for supremacy in the Pacific, the general staff developed a maritime strategy based on night operations, massed attacks, and superior torpedoes. What the Japanese Navy lacked in gross tonnage, it intended to make up in new weaponry, realistic training, and tactical savvy.

By any measure, the Japanese Type 93 "Long Lance" torpedo was a behemoth. It weighed nearly three tons, was two feet in diameter and 30 feet long, had an 1,100-pound warhead, could travel 20 miles at 38 knots, and left almost no tell-tale wake. U.S. intelligence officers knew little about its capabilities until mid-1943 when one was discovered intact; tacticians incorrectly ascribed disproportionate ship losses to undetected submarines. It is worth noting that both Tameichi Hara and Kaju Sugiura were torpedo experts. Hara had literally rewritten the tactics book as the war began, and Sugiura had recently served as chief instructor at the IJN Torpedo School in Yokosuka. They were first-rate tacticians and experienced warriors.

American surface Navy leaders early in the war tended to be big-gun proponents. They envisioned and planned for a dramatic Trafalgar- or Jutland-like battle that would determine the outcome of the conflict. In this narrow construct, battleships were the coin of the realm; heavy cruisers their valuable cousins. Destroyers were usually assigned screening duties for bigger ships or chased submarines, and aircraft were used primarily for searching out the enemy. Though there were notable exceptions, in battles larger guns were usually fired first and destroyer torpedoes used for coups de grace. As surely as Midway was a harbinger of the end of the age of battleships, battles around Guadalcanal signaled the end of the linear, unimaginative use of destroyers in combat.

Many senior commanders failed to appreciate that ground rules had changed since fleet tactics had been developed in the peacetime Navy of the early 1930s. They deemed it implausible that Japanese torpedoes could outrange any weapon in the U.S. inventory or that gun muzzle and torpedo launcher flashes could provide a well-prepared enemy the opportunity to quickly develop a fire-control solution. Stilted tactical development, inadequate intelligence, and rigid centralized control proved costly.

By mid-1943, losses in the Solomons compelled American tacticians to ask hard questions and demand new doctrine. Commander Arleigh Burke, a future chief of Naval Operations, was part of this effort. Burke carefully studied the 30 November 1942 U.S. defeat at Tassafaronga (as well as the tactics of Scipio Africanus in the Second Punic War), drafted a revolutionary battle plan, and needed only the opportunity to put theory into practice.⁴ [1]He advocated independent destroyer action, attacking at night with the tin cans divided in two divisions. After the new search radar (SG, or "Sugar George") found the enemy ships, the U.S. destroyers would first fire torpedoes and then their 5-inch guns. A rudimentary Combat Information Center (CIC) would process tactical data.

Even with the introduction of new tactics and innovations, Burke later said:

There is no panacea which will ensure success in battle. . . . [T]he best that can be done is to train individual units. . . , place them in the positions where they will most probably be effective, and then aggressively fight the action under competent bold leadership.⁵ [1]

Complete Mutual Understanding

Before Burke had a chance to implement his plan, Commander Frederick Moosbrugger relieved him as commander, Task Group 31.2 on 3 August and assumed responsibility for its eight destroyers, then based at Purvis Bay off Tulagi. Only 48 hours later, he was directed to embark in the Dunlap (DD-384) and "with Division Able One and Able Two less Gridley (DD-380) and Wilson (DD-408) depart Tulagi at 1230 [on the] sixth and proceed Vella Gulf . . . to arrive Gizo Strait at 2200 [the] same date. Make sweeps of Vella Gulf. . . . If no enemy contact is made by 0200 hours seventh return down Slot at maximum speed to Purvis."

At 0930 on the 6th, Moosbrugger (also commanding Able One) and Commander Rodger W. Simpson, Able Two's experienced leader, called the commanding officers of the destroyers Dunlap, Craven (DD-382), Maury (DD-401), Lang (DD-399), Sterett (DD-407), and Stack (DD-406) to the flagship for a presail conference. Like others in attendance, Commander Gelzer L. Sims of the Maury was pleased to learn that Simpson had convinced Moosbrugger to adopt Burke's battle plan almost verbatim. The commanding officers, who were already familiar with and had trained to Burke's plan, discussed the mission and reviewed contingencies in detail. In his final report, Moosbrugger wrote: "This conference was of great value as it enabled any doubtful points to be cleared up. There was complete mutual understanding of all possible situations to be encountered."⁶ [1] The sterling execution achieved during the battle that night underscores the effectiveness of this meeting and the benefit of realistic training and clearly understanding the commander's intent.

Moosbrugger's written battle plan was only three pages long and reflected Burke's commitment to precise language and unambiguous tasking. It begins:

Underway at 1130 August 6, 1943. Arrive off Gizo Strait Point Option . . . at 2200 and conduct sweeps [in] Vella Gulf for enemy destroyers, submarines, and small craft, destroying same. . . . All surface contacts encountered in Vella Gulf are enemy. . . . Primary target destroyers; secondary barges.⁷ [1]

As Burke had suggested, the ships were divided into two columns—the first would locate the enemy with radar and silently close to fire torpedoes; the second, ready for gun action, would use ensuing explosions to target the hostile ships. Tight formations and simple maneuvers were to be used to help American officers keep a clear tactical picture and avoid fratricide despite the inherent confusion of a night battle. Again breaking with what had become customary practice around Guadalcanal, Moosbrugger also directed his officers to stop the disruptive practice of using "TBS" or "Talk Between Ships," the new radio system, for editorial commentary and administrative messages. Only tactical signals were authorized.

Commander Sims returned to the Maury and informed his crew that they would sortie immediately to interdict the next voyage of the Tokyo Express. As the force headed westward and passed below the Russell Islands, the ship's executive officer, then-Lieutenant Crenshaw, approached Sims to discuss the torpedoes running deep and their exploders malfunctioning. Crenshaw believed, as did the torpedomen, that all of their fish should be set to the minimum run depth, contrary to official guidelines but in keeping with common sense. Uncharacteristically, Sims demurred. "Look Russ," he said, "I received clear instructions from the commodore to set the fish at the DesPac standard . . . and I'm not going to second guess [him]."⁸ [1]

Crenshaw was incredulous. If set to run deep, the torpedoes, whose magnetic activators had been disabled, would pass harmlessly under the targets. There was zero risk in selecting the shallowest setting because any direct hit with an 800-pound warhead would be devastating. Crenshaw said no more, but went directly to the torpedo battery, summoned the torpedo officer and his crew, and supervised the setting of all 16 fish to run at five feet. Even with a depth error, these weapons would have a fighting chance to accomplish what they were designed to do. A year later, Crenshaw was awarded the new Legion of Merit medal for his initiative.

Opposing Forces Converge

Task Force 31.2 entered the restricted waters of Gizo Strait at 2115 and went to battle stations. It was a rainy, almost moonless night, but an Australian coastwatcher on Vella Lavella had provided precise intelligence on when to expect the enemy in Vella Gulf. The U.S. ships were completely darkened and stayed close, often less than 4,000 yards from Japanese-controlled Kolombangara Island's coral-rimmed beach. The mountain backdrop helped obscure them from enemy eyes. The Dunlap's officer-of-the-deck, Lieutenant (junior grade) Vining Sherman, watched Moosbrugger pace and recheck the charts. "The commodore had a lot to think about," Sherman recalled, "and this was the first time that a task group composed entirely of destroyers had been given such a mission."⁹ [1] At 2333, the Dunlap's radar operator detected two contacts 12 miles out that indicated combat was imminent. The Craven and Maury picked up four radar blips shortly thereafter.

Loaded with soldiers and supplies, the Japanese destroyers Hagikaze, Arashi, Kawakaze, and Shigure had sortied from Rabaul bound for Vila that morning. Hara's Shigure was last in line because of speed limitations related to an engineering malfunction. At 1630, a U.S. Navy patrol plane spotted the ships and reported their position, course, and speed. An overconfident Sugiura did not modify his plan after being seen by the enemy plane. As the formation entered Bougainville Strait, he increased its speed to 30 knots, and the Shigure began to fall back. By the time the battle would be joined, she was a mile behind and struggling to keep pace.

The Japanese approached Kolombangara and Blackett Strait from the north, unaware of the American ships steaming silently into Vella Gulf and convinced of their ability to reach Vila with little opposition. By 2330, the antagonists were only 15 miles apart and closing at 50 to 60 knots. Visibility was intermittently less than 4,000 yards because of heavy rain showers. Sensing that action was imminent as he peered into the blackness and squalls, Captain Hara doubled his lookouts.

Tokyo Express Derailed

At 2345, the Shigure's port lookout spotted the lead ships of Able One emerging from the shadows. Unbeknownst to the Japanese, a massive salvo of 24 torpedoes—eight each from the Maury, Craven, and Dunlap—was already in the water. Hara threw his ship's rudder over hard right and ineffectively fired three torpedoes down a reciprocal bearing as the Japanese destroyers immediately on his bow exploded within seconds of each other. He feared it was now the Shigure's turn to suffer and described the next two minutes as "the most breathtaking ones of my life."¹⁰ [1]

Shortly before, Moosbrugger had turned Able One to a course of 335 degrees and prepared to launch a spread of torpedoes at a range of only 6,000 yards from their formidable opponent. The destroyers fired, turned hard to starboard, and waited anxiously for the "fish" to intercept the unsuspecting enemy column. Lieutenant E. H. Winslow, a gunnery officer on the Lang who watched from the bridge of his ship in the middle of Able Two, remembered, "it seemed to take forever before the torpedoes hit."¹¹ [1]Vining Sherman recalled, "Our lives rode on those fish, and they ran hot and true."¹² [1]

After the initial explosions, the Japanese ships slowed noticeably. As per the plan, Simpson quickly turned the Lang, Sterett, and Stack 90 degrees to port and executed the classic "crossing the T" maneuver. The American destroyers then turned to port another 80 degrees and poured 5-inch rounds into the burning wrecks less than three miles off their starboard beam. Moosbrugger reported, "the whole area was a great mass of flames and explosions which continued without interruption under the continuous pounding of our forces." An observer described one of the ships exploding as looking "like a bed of hot coals thrown a thousand feet in the air."¹³ [1]In the darkness and confusion it was impossible to determine whose weapons were ultimately responsible for sending the Japanese destroyers to the bottom. But, Crenshaw reckoned the Maury accounted for five of the seven initial torpedo hits.

Captain Hara in the Shigure found himself on the horns of a dilemma. His sister ships were damaged, under fire, and able to make only feeble attempts to fight back. He was honor-bound to assist—either to fight and die alongside his comrades or rescue survivors. Hara chose neither. In an area of restricted visibility and without the benefit of radar, he had no idea how many enemy ships were present, where they were, or what they planned to do next. He was convinced, however, that the attackers were undamaged and their commanders would know exactly where to find the Shigure if she rejoined the fight. Rather than further risk ship and crew, Hara withdrew under a cloud of smoke with only a hole in his ship's rudder from a dud torpedo to show for his participation in the engagement. His and his crew's courage would be unfairly questioned for making the difficult decision to turn back. Hara's distinguished military career, however, would continue, and he later commanded the doomed cruiser Yahagi when she escorted the battleship Yamato on their 1945 kamikaze mission to Okinawa.

Though the Battle of Vella Gulf fighting ended at 0022 with a final torpedo salvo from Able Two, fires burned for hours. None of the oil-soaked Japanese sailors and soldiers who bobbed helplessly in the water called out for assistance as U.S. ships passed back through the area. Faced with the stark reality of steaming amid hundreds of experienced Japanese troops who had refused quarter and might live to fight another day, Simpson called Moosbrugger on the TBS and asked in plain English for permission to roll depth charges on the survivors. Moosbrugger sharply declined the request.¹⁴ [1]

Persistent concerns about undetected submarines and additional warships compelled Moosbrugger to withdraw his force shortly thereafter. As the victorious ships turned south, a final cataclysmic explosion rocked Vella Gulf, signaling the demise of another Japanese ship and the de facto end of the battle.

In 35 minutes, the Imperial Japanese Navy lost three destroyers, 700 sailors, 820 soldiers, and tons of cargo. Some 310 survivors washed up on nearby Vella Lavella and were rescued by Japanese soldiers. Sugiura was among the living; he later returned to Rabaul emaciated and in disgrace. Appointed captain of the cruiser Haguro, he would be killed when the ship was sunk off Malaya in May 1945. The U.S. Navy suffered no personnel casualties at Vella Gulf except a burn to a technician working on a recalcitrant feed pump on the Maury and a hand injury to a gunner on the Lang. The six destroyers were undamaged.

The American task group fired 34 MK 15 torpedoes and 800 5-inch rounds during the battle. As Burke had envisioned, the mission was successful because Moosbrugger and Simpson leveraged a technical advantage (radar) and flawlessly executed a surprise attack at a range that supported pre-emptive torpedo action. According to official reports, the new SG radar "made the success of this operation possible."¹⁵ [1] Moosbrugger also mentions improvements in doctrine and weapon effectiveness. More important, he acknowledged the shared sense of mission and stated unequivocally "mutual understanding between commanders and commanding officers is requisite to complete and coordinated destruction of the enemy." Unlike his Japanese counterparts, Moosbrugger adapted to changing circumstances, incorporated constructive criticism, and took calculated risks.

After the war, Tameichi Hara summarized the events of 6 August in his book, Japanese Destroyer Captain: "[T]he enemy performed superbly that night . . . and did everything correctly. [They] had ambushed us brilliantly. . . . Never before had I seen such marksmanship." Arleigh Burke agreed. In a note to Rodger Simpson sent only two nights after the battle, he wrote that the Battle of Vella Gulf "was perfect in every respect. . . . It is an attack that every destroyer sailor dreams about."¹⁶ [1]

The Vella Gulf outcome was a severe blow to the Japanese, but not merely in terms of ships, personnel, and cargo. More significant, it damaged the intense pride Japanese destroyermen had in their battle record. Until this fight, they had ruled the night. Conversely, the result boosted American tin can Sailors' egos. They had proved they could win at night as well, on their own, when not saddled with screening duties for bigger ships.

Though the Solomons campaign did not end on 7 August, the strategic tide in the South Pacific had been turned. Imperial Japanese Navy officers now knew viscerally what leading army strategists refused to acknowledge—that Japan would have to abandon the Solomons, New Guinea, and their base at Rabaul. The Japanese Navy never again used Blackett Strait and Vella Gulf to resupply Vila, and the remaining soldiers on Kolombangara and Vella Lavella surrendered to U.S. Marines less than 60 days later. The die was cast, and the war soon moved past the Solomons and north to Leyte, the Japanese homeland, and Allied victory.

1. Tameichi Hara. Japanese Destroyer Captain (New York: Ballantine Books, 1961), pp. 183-5.

2. Ibid., p. 187.

3. CAPT Russell S. Crenshaw, USN (Retired). South Pacific Destroyer (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1998), pp. 226-7.

4. E. B. Potter. Admiral Arleigh Burke (New York: Random House, 1990), p. 83.

5. COMDESDIV 43 letter to CTF 19 (FB4-43/A16-3 Serial 37), 7 May 1943. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), College Park, MD.

6. COMDESDIV 12 letter to CINCPAC (FB12/A16-3 Serial 10), 16 August 1943. NARA.

7. Ibid.

8. CAPT Russell S. Crenshaw, USN (Retired). "Crest of the Wave—The Battle of Vella Gulf," copyright 2003 and printed in www.destroyerhistory.org [2].

9. Lieutenant Vining A. Sherman, USNR. "The Battle of Vella Gulf," United States Naval Institute Proceedings, volume 71 (no. 503), January 1945, p. 65.

10. Hara, Japanese Destroyer Captain, p. 190.

11. Theodore Roscoe. United States Destroyer Operations in World War II (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1953), p. 235.

12. Sherman, "The Battle of Vella Gulf," p. 68.

13. Ibid, p. 235.

14. Personal correspondence between the author and CAPT Vining Sherman, USN (Retired) of 10 March 2007.

15. COMDESDIV 12 Action Report, Serial 10, 16 August 1943. NARA.

16. Personal correspondence between CDR A. A. Burke and CDR R. Simpson of 9 August 1943.

Story Assets

The USS Dunlap (DD-384) launches a MK 15 torpedo during an exercise a year before she led the Vella Gulf attack as flagship of Task Group 31.2. [4]

Commander Frederick Moosbrugger (left) and Commander Rodger W. Simpson, commanders of Destroyer Divisions 12 and 15, respectively, each earned the Navy Cross for their actions in Vella Gulf. [5]

Commander Frederick Moosbrugger (left) and Commander Rodger W. Simpson, commanders of Destroyer Divisions 12 and 15, respectively, each earned the Navy Cross for their actions in Vella Gulf. [6]

The diminutive antenna of the SG?Sugar George?microwave surface-search radar set belied its large capabilities. After SG sets spotted the enemy at Vella Gulf, the initial visual sighting of the Japanese ships came with the first American torpedo's explosion. [7]

Captain Stephen F. Davis Jr. [8]