WAHOO: The Patrols of America’s Most Famous World War II Submarine
Rear Admiral Richard H. O’Kane, USN (Ret.). Novato, CA: Presidio, 1987. 345 pp. Photos. Illus. Maps. Gloss. Ind. $18.95 ($17.05).
Reviewed by Captain Edward L. Beach, U. S. Navy (Retired)
The Wahoo (SS-238) was launched at the Mare Island, California, navy yard two months after the Japanese struck Pearl Harbor. I watched the ceremony from the deck of the Trigger (SS-237), her immediate predecessor down the ways. The Navy launched the Wahoo directly into war, and she had but a year and a half to live.
Her first two patrols were not very productive. Then-Lieutenant Richard H. O’Kane—the ship’s executive officer and eventual holder of the outstanding submarine combat record of the Pacific war—soon lost confidence in the submarine’s skipper (as the man had in himself). O’Kane’s account of this part of the Wahoo's history is a textbook on how not to conduct submarine war patrols. Fortunately, and not entirely by accident as O’Kane relates it. Lieutenant Commander Dudley W. “Mush” Morton then took command.
The Wahoo’s subsequent career was explosive, for Morton epitomized the fighting submariner, and was as different from his predecessor as a man could possibly be. His first contact with the enemy was an invasion into an uncharted harbor, Wewak, on the coast of New Guinea, where he took on an enemy destroyer head-to-head during a depth charge run, sank her, and photographed the destroyed ship before the water closed over her. Two days later, he sank an entire convoy of four ships bound for Guadalcanal. It was by far the most successful patrol of the war to date, and when the Wahoo reached Pearl Harbor her fame and that of her new skipper were already made.
The submarine inflicted even more damage on the enemy on the two following patrols, but then tragedy struck. Needing an overhaul, the Wahoo returned to Mare Island. When Morton took her back to the war, O’Kane left to take com mand of the new USS Tang (SS-306), still on the ways nearby. Three months later, Morton and the Wahoo were dead. O’Kane’s personal mission, by consequence, became far larger than prosecuting the war. In his own mind, he owed it to the Wahoo and his old shipmates to memorialize his lost ship and to carry on Morton’s crusade against stultifying doctrine. In doing so, the Tang took the Wahoo’s place in our submarine escutcheon. Now, with this book, O’Kane takes on yet another objective: to secure appropriate recognition for Morton and the Wahoo. U. S. submariners everywhere should support this effort, for no one deserves the Medal of Honor more.
The Navy’s torpedo salvo doctrine required submarines to fire wide torpedo salvos because the conventional wisdom said they could not shoot straight. The fact was, however, that nearly all our “misses” were due solely to failures in the weapons. The torpedoes were hitting, but they were exploding prematurely, not detonating on impact, or passing under the target (and some ran in circles instead of straight). Morton set himself to prove he could get better results by firing all torpedoes to hit, instead of only some of them. Vice Admiral Charles Lockwood, Commander Submarine Force Pacific Fleet, had already determined to put Morton on his staff. No one can predict how our submarine war against Japan would have gone had the Wahoo’s skipper had the opportunity to inculcate his methods in others. The Shakespearean tragedy is that on Morton’s fourth command patrol, in the landlocked Sea of Japan with unwary targets in all directions, every one of his torpedoes proved faulty. Attack after attack failed. Torpedo after torpedo was heard to “thunk” against the sides of enemy ships. Suspecting sabotage, or worse, Morton raced back to Pearl Harbor with his remaining fish, reloaded hurriedly with brand-new ones, and set forth once again, back to the Sea of Japan, on the cruise from which the Wahoo did not return.
Submariners of the war will always wonder what happened, Dick O’Kane more than anyone. Now he has come on a Japanese report of action that supplies the only clue. From this he has reconstructed the probable sequence of events, basing what he can on the known facts and supplying the remainder from his intimate knowledge of his old ship.
Not least in the author’s motivation is that his own Tang went down in what he is convinced was a similar catastrophe, but his book is very clear on what is fact and what is informed speculation. O’Kane does refer the reader to things that only another professional submariner would know, but aside from this slip the book pleads eloquently for justice to the memory of one of the great men of our submarine force and our Navy.
The subtitle is on target: The Patrols of America's Most Famous World War II Submarine. Even O’Kane’s justly famous Tang must yield the crown to the Wahoo, for every successful submariner of the war knows in his heart that Dudley Morton did more to rescue us from the Slough of Torpedo Despond than anyone else. We will always remember that the Wahoo led the way when the right way was hard to see. Her name should never be absent from our list of ships in commission, and to the man responsible, Dudley W. Morton, the nation should award the Medal of Honor.
Great Battles of World War II
John MacDonald. New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1986. 192 pp. Maps. Illus. Ind. $33.65 ($30.28).
Reviewed by Captain Michael T. Isenberg, U. S. Naval Reserve
The glut of World War II coffee-table books continues to grow apace. This entry, a follow-on to Great Battlefields of the World (Macmillan, 1985), has as its main advertising point something called “3-D computer graphics” to enhance its analysis of key battles.
MacDonald examines 17 “battles”: Dunkirk, the Battle of Britain, the sinking of the Bismarck, Moscow, Malta, Midway, Guadalcanal, El Alamein, Stalingrad, Kursk, Anzio/Cassino, Kohima/ Imphal, Normandy, Arnhem, the Battle of the Bulge, Berlin, and Okinawa. Each battle is treated in 8-12 pages that include explanatory text, large- and small- scale maps, and descriptions of weapon systems, combat arms, and sensors. There are also photographs of historical artifacts—propaganda posters, magazine covers, and the like—and capsule profiles of various commanders.
The novel computer graphics form the heart of the book. Generated from topographical maps, they are intended to interrelate terrain and tactics. Working from the graphics, artists have illustrated each battle to indicate troop movements, weapons deployment, and weather.
The author’s explanations and analyses are brief, workmanlike, and offer no surprises. The art direction and design are of a very high order, although there is considerable clutter among the myriad illustrations and accompanying captions. As might be expected from the topic, there is little continuity drawn between the battles. This is not a history of the war.
In any book of this sort, where the major effort goes into design rather than text or analysis, problems of emphasis inevitably arise. The notion of what constituted a “battle” is extremely vague. The selections range from tactical actions with relatively little impact on the war (the Bismarck and Arnhem) to vast campaigns (Moscow and Normandy). In addition, the author’s choices (unsurprisingly in a book originally published in England) are British or Euro-centered. British forces are central to 9 of the 17 battles. Thirteen are from the European/ North African theater of operations. Eleven discuss predominantly ground actions, while three focus on naval actions and one (Battle of Britain) on air warfare. The rest are mixed.
Such a nationalistic approach is tolerable if one is not told that these are the “great battles” of World War II. But we are told just that and as a result, serious distortions abound. The Battle of the Atlantic is relegated to a sidelight to the sinking of the Bismarck. Operation Torch and all that ensued in western North Africa are absent. The strategic bombing offensive against Germany and Japan is omitted. The submarine offensive in the Pacific is likewise ignored. There is no mention of the problems and prospects of any opposed amphibious assault in the Pacific (Okinawa is treated largely as a land battle), although U. S. Marines are profiled as “ruthless killers,” some of whom preferred to drink hair tonic rather than beer.
The biggest disappointment here is the highly touted computer graphics, which in no way mark a breakthrough in military historical analysis. No one would deny the usefulness of terrain or contour mapping as an aid in reconstructing any battle or campaign, but the notion of somehow presenting three dimensions in two, while intriguing, is in this book a chimera.
There are several problems inherent in such a scheme. First, competent artists can (and have) depicted the contours of battlefield terrain using the traditional artistic elements of parallax and perspective. Second, only seven of the battles chosen—Guadalcanal, El Alamein. Kursk, Anzio/Cassino, Kohima/Imphah Normandy, and Okinawa—had terrain that strongly affected the combat waged over them. Finally, the accompanying text is not securely anchored in the graphics, nor is the reverse true.
The reader is thus left with a handsomely mounted book that is straightforward, descriptive, lavishly illustrated- and entirely typical of its genre. Military buffs may find it of use, and while it is not directly tied to the technology of wargaming, possibilities exist there as well- But the major selling point—its computer graphics—is nothing but gimmicky window dressing.
War Movies
Brock Garland. New York: Facts on File, 1987. 230 pp. Photos. Bib. Ind. $19.95 ($17.95).
The World War II Combat Film: Anatomy of a Genre
Jeanine Basinger. New York: Columbia University Press, 1986. 373 pp. Photos. Tables. Notes. Append. Filmography. Bib. Ind. $32.50 ($29.25).
Reviewed by Jim Sutton
It can be convincingly argued that the art of moviemaking is primarily American. That is not to say that great films are not made outside the United States; many are, but no other nation has contributed so much innovation to motion picture technology or produced so many films year after year. Keeping track of those movies has become an industry in itself. The millions of Americans who now regard the video cassette recorder as a primary source of entertainment have created a tremendous demand for film catalogs and critical guides to the films of the past.
The most recent of these is Brock Garland’s War Movies. I am unaware of any other single volume that so comprehensively catalogs this important and extremely popular genre of the combat film.
In his introduction to this annotated alphabetical listing. Garland rather loosely defines a film as a “war movie if it has, as its central action, subject, situation or background, people in armed, military conflict.” While the film scholar might require a more precise definition, this one works especially well for Garland. It allows him to include such films as Charles Chaplin’s The Great Dictator (1940), Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca (1942), and Edward Dmytryk’s Till the End of Time (1946) among many others one might be surprised to find in a listing of war movies. It also includes all of the classics from John Wayne’s The Green Berets (1968) to John Farrow’s Wake Island (1942) and John Huston’s Red Badge of Courage (1951). Not all of these movies are available at local video clubs, but many are and more arrive every month. For those who enjoy war movies, this is the guide to have next to the VCR stand.
Jeanine Basinger is a film scholar who has spent years studying war films— watching the great as well as the trashy— in an effort to define the genre and determine the reasons for its durability.
The point of her book is that “World War II gave birth to ... a strong pattern which came to be known and recognized as the combat genre,” and that “before World War II this combat genre did not exist.”
In support of her argument, Basinger traces the evolution of the World War II combat film, establishing Tay Garnett’s Bataan (1943) as typical of the genre. Many of her conclusions challenge popularly held conceptions of the war film; her arguments are clear, thorough, and well documented.
The book contains an annotated filmography of World War II and Korean combat films, as well as an appendix of selected titles relevant to the prior history of the genre. A bibliography and a thorough index complete this important contribution to the literature of the war film.
Either of these excellent books will enhance a viewer’s enjoyment of the American combat film. Both are heartily recommended.
The Royal Navy: 1000 Years of Peace and War
Published by Seagull S. A., Guernsey, Great Britain, on behalf of King George’s Fund for Sailors. London: 1987. 140 pp. Photos. Illus. Order directly from: King George’s Fund for Sailors, 1 Chesham Street, London, GB, SW1X-8NF. $24.45 plus $4.90 postage and handling.
Reviewed by Captain John Coote, Royal Navy (Retired)
With its 14- by 11-inch format, this impressive book provides a broad canvas for a mix of drawings, paintings, and photographs from the rich tapestry of the Royal Navy’s history. Its coverage begins with King Alfred’s defeat of the invading Vikings in the ninth century, continues through the first Queen Elizabeth’s sponsorship of pirates such as Sir Francis Drake in the 16th century, and culminates with the enterprising 1982 triumph of the second Elizabeth’s men-at-arms in the Falklands Conflict. Along the way are cameo portraits of the 1939 sinking of HMS Royal Oak at Scapa Flow, Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee fleet review in 1897, the development of the British submarine fleet, World War II Swordfish torpedo bombers, and the new Type 23 Duke-class frigates—among other things.
As Prince Philip says in the foreword, pictures can often say more than the many volumes of words that have been written about Britain’s maritime history. Here we have a feast of pictures, many not hitherto published. Willem Van de Velde the Younger, Montague Dawson, and such contemporary painters as Robert Taylor, Michael Turner, and John Hamilton are among the great maritime artists whose depictions of life at sea are reproduced in vivid four-color printing. Every aspect of that life is presented, from desperate battles to splendid ceremonial visits and the squalor of life between decks.
One problem confronting the editors is that the Royal Navy barely acknowledged the existence of photographers in World War I and II, and officers and ratings alike were forbidden to have cameras or keep private diaries. So it is scarcely surprising that the book is imbalanced; the last 40 years take up more than half its 140 glossy pages.
There are some surprising omissions. There is no reference to the hydrographic service that has signposted the way around the seven seas since the days of Captain Cook. Two of the greatest marine artists of this century are overlooked: W. L. Wyllie and Norman Wilkinson, who was an official artist to the Admiralty during World War II. Nor is there any mention of the audacious small raids that sustained Britain’s morale and kept the Germans guessing in World War II— St. Nazaire, Lofoten, Bruneval, the raid of the “cockleshell heroes” up the Gironde, and even the fiasco of Dieppe. The rescue of 350,000 soldiers from Dunkirk is well covered, but D-Day, the greatest amphibious operation of all time, is not.
Nevertheless, the book is a valuable souvenir in sumptuous color. The photograph of Vice Admiral Sir David Beatty and his chief of staff on the bridge of the British flagship inset on a stunning painting of the battle fleet firing 15-inch broadsides at Jutland is just one memorable feature. Here is the perfect gift for anyone who reveres Britain’s maritime heritage and wants a record of its glories.
Proceeds from sales of the book—the publication of which was underwritten by corporate sponsors—will benefit the King George’s Fund for Sailors. The fund has been aiding impoverished and distressed British sailors and their families since 1917.
Other Titles of Interest
An Annotated Bibliography of U. S. Marine Corps History
Paulo E. Coletta, Editor. Lanham, MD: University Press of America, Inc., 1986. 417 pp. Notes. Bib. Ind. $39.50 ($39.50).
Bismarck: The White Revolutionary, Volume 1: 1815-1871
Lothar Gall. J. A. Underwood, Translator. London: Allen and Unwin, 1986. 402 pp. Notes. Ind. $34.95 ($31.45).
Invasion: From the Armada to Hitler, 1588-1945
Frank McLynn. New York: Methuen, Inc., 1987. 170 pp. Bib. Ind. $39.95 ($39.95).
Naval History: The Sixth Symposium of the U. S. Naval Academy
Daniel M. Masterson, General Editor. Wilmington, DE: Scholarly Resources, Inc., 1987. 358 pp. Tables. Figs. Notes. $40.00 ($36.00).
Remaking Japan: The American Occupation as a New Deal
Theodore Cohen. Herbert Passin, Editor. New York: The Free Press (Macmillan, Inc.), 1987. 533 pp. Append. Notes. Ind. $26.44 ($23.80).
Retaking the Philippines: America’s Return to Corregidor and Bataan, October 1944-March 1945
William B. Breuer. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1986. 284 pp. Photos. Illus. Map. Notes. Bib. Ind. $18.95 ($17.05).
Stoddert’s War: Naval Operations During the Quasi-War with France, 1798-1801
Michael A. Palmer. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina, 1987. 313 pp. Photos. Maps. Append. Gloss. Notes. Bib. Ind. $24.95 ($22.45).
Voices of Combat: A Century of Liberty and War Songs, 1765-1865
Kent A. Bowman. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, Inc., 1987. 172 pp. Notes. Bib. Ind. $29.95 ($26.95).
Wings of Gold: An Account of Naval Aviation Training in World War II—The Correspondence of Aviation Cadet/Ensign Robert R. Rea
Wesley Phillips Newton and Robert R. Rea, Editors. Tuscaloosa, AL: The University of Alabama Press, 1987. 332 pp. Photos. Ulus. Notes. Bib. Ind. $34.95 ($31.45).
