The final seven hours must have been horrific for "Mush the Magnificent" and the crew of one of World War II's most famous submarines. Experts surmise the USS Wahoo (SS-238) was returning from another successful war patrol when the boat encountered antisubmarine forces in the 25-mile-wide La Perouse Strait separating Hokkaido, Japan, and Russia's Sakhalin Island to the north. Under intense artillery, aircraft, and naval bombardment, Commander Dudley "Mushmouth" Morton tried desperately to reach deep water. But the luck of the Wahoo had run out. For decades, relatives have searched for clues to the disappearance. Russian divers' discovery of wreckage this past July and the U.S. Navy's official confirmation in October that it was the Wahoo resolves a mystery that had haunted the Silent Service for more than 60 years.
The Wahoo came down the ways of the Mare Island Navy Yard in Vallejo, California, on Valentine's Day—14 February 1942—at a time when there was no love lost on Japan. The surprise attack on Pearl Harbor the previous December guaranteed that. Named after a fast sporting fish of the West Indies, the Wahoo, was designed to strike back. She could attain a surface speed of nearly 21 knots, dive to great depth, and sail 12,000 miles without refueling on solitary missions that could last two months. The Gato (SS-212)-class submarine stretched the length of a football field and, as built, was armed with 24 torpedoes, a 3-inch deck gun, two .30-caliber and two .50-caliber machine guns.
Despite the promise, the Wahoo, like most of the fleet, proved to be a disappointment in her first two war patrols under Lieutenant Commander Marvin Granville Kennedy. In August 1942, off Truk, in the Central Pacific, the skipper missed a chance to sink one of the best targets of the war, a heavy carrier escorted by two enemy destroyers. He later admitted he lacked the temerity and skill to succeed. Kennedy sank a tanker and submarine in the Solomon Islands on the second patrol. But after a depth charge attack, he allowed two heavily laden cargo ships and a destroyer to escape, despite pleas by Morton, who was on board as the prospective commanding officer, to go after them. Kennedy broke off the engagement and ended the patrol in Brisbane, Australia, in December 1942.
By then it was abundantly clear older skippers like Kennedy, 38, lacked aggressiveness. Morton, 34, relieved him and wasted no time challenging the crew. "Wahoo is expendable. We will take every reasonable precaution, but our mission is to sink enemy shipping," he roared. "If anyone doesn't want to go along under these conditions, just see the yeoman. Nothing will ever be said about your remaining in Brisbane." No one stayed behind. Rather, a fighting spirit swept the boat. Veterans believed in Morton and the luck of the Wahoo and that the boat was capable of performing miracles. "Mush," whose moniker came from his Kentucky drawl, backed up his bravado with uncommon ability. He was innovative, such as having his executive officer, Lieutenant Richard O'Kane, man the periscope during combat. Most skippers did not have that kind of faith, but Morton believed in freeing himself to better con the sub. The skipper embraced a fierce hatred of the Japanese and had a banner made up for the Wahoo's mast with the motto "Shoot the sunza bitches."
Morton's initial orders were to "reconnoiter" the enemy harbor of Weewak on the north coast of New Guinea. To him that meant a high-risk entry into the anchorage where Morton fired four torpedoes at a destroyer just getting under way. They all missed as the warship turned to ram. Unable to evade, the Wahoo fired a "down the throat" fifth torpedo that blew up the destroyer just short of the boat. Back at sea, Morton wreaked havoc in a 10-hour running battle with a five-ship convoy loaded with troops and supplies, sinking three, damaging the others, and destroying lifeboats in gunnery action.
Returning to Pearl with all 24 torpedoes expended and a broom strapped to the boat's periscope shears to indicate a clean sweep, the Wahoo entered the harbor in triumph, the first American submarine to wipe out an entire convoy without assistance. It was only window dressing for what was to come.
On the sub's fourth patrol, in the Yellow Sea in March 1943, the Navy's "one-boat wolf pack" sank a record seven ships, seriously damaged an eighth, and set a 100-ton trawler ablaze with homemade Molotov cocktails, earning "Mush" his second Navy Cross. After a refit at Midway, the Wahoo set sail for the Kurile Islands north of Japan, where in ten action-packed days, Morton sank three more cargo ships and damaged a seaplane tender. Twice as many ships would have been sunk had not many torpedoes misfired or been duds. The Wahoo's sixth patrol was to the Sea of Japan, where Morton attacked nine enemy ships in four days. In every case, torpedoes either missed, broached and exploded, or hit without exploding. "Damn the torpedoes!" the skipper cursed as the sub returned to Pearl.
Morton was furious. He requested a return trip with torpedoes he could count on. He got his wish. The Wahoo's seventh war patrol, Morton's fifth in command, began on 9 September 1943. The sub set a course for the Okhotsk Sea north of Japan and transit to the Sea of Japan through La Perouse Strait. The Wahoo was never heard from again.
The loss was a profound shock. Vice Admiral Charles A. Lockwood couldn't believe it: "It just didn't seem possible that Morton and his fighting crew could be lost. I'd never have believed the Japs could be smart enough to get him."
The legacy of Mush Morton lived on, however. Sub captains who emulated him had much to do with defeating Japan. By war's end, American submarines had destroyed 1,314 enemy vessels, including one battleship, eight carriers, and 11 cruisers—55 percent of all Japanese ships lost during the war. The cost to the Silent Service was severe. Fifty-two submarines disappeared, taking with them 3,500 officers and enlisted men—22 percent of the force—the highest casualty rate for any branch of the military. For his heroics, Mush Morton earned four Navy Crosses for sinking 20 ships, the second highest tally of the war for a sub commander. Still, what happened to the Wahoo remained a mystery.
The hunt for an answer began in 1947, when George Logue, a college student who lost his brother in the sub, contacted the Navy and the Japanese Diet library for their help. Later, Japanese businessman Satoru Saga, former commander of a midget sub, and retired Vice Admiral Kazuo Ueda took up the quest. The admiral discovered that a submarine had been attacked in La Perouse Strait (known today as Sooya Strait) in October 1943. No other details were known.
Momentum picked up in 1995 with the formation of the USS Wahoo Project Group—an alliance of individuals, companies, officials from seven countries, and the USS Bowfin (SS-287) Submarine Museum in Hawaii—headed by the MacKinnon Organization and Bryan MacKinnon, Morton's grandnephew living in Tokyo. Japanese records confirmed the Wahoo, in her final patrol, sank four ships including an 8,000-ton transport with 544 passengers. Then in 2000, the Japan National Institute for Defense Studies discovered an hour-by-hour transcript of a seven-hour attack on a submarine in the strait on the morning of 11 October 1943.
A Japanese shore battery on the northern cape of Hokkaido spotted a submarine on the surface heading east toward the Sea of Okhotsk from the Sea of Japan. Artillery shells forced the boat to dive. A patrol plane sent to investigate tracked an oil slick and saw the submerged outline of a conning tower. The plane dropped two bombs that caused a gush of oil. More Japanese planes from a nearby base zoomed to the scene. The first pilot reported seeing the silhouette of the boat bearing east toward the Okhotsk at two knots. The pilot attacked with four bombs. The sub turned back to the west in an attempt to escape. A second plane sighted the boat streaking bubbles and dropped four more bombs. Five ships and several aircraft dropped another 40 bombs and depth charges. By 1230, oil streamed from the wounded boat as it moved slowly west before coming to a halt at 1330. The end came at 1630 when two more bombs caused the boat to erupt in a froth of oil and compressed air. Was she the Wahoo?
In July 2004 the Sakhalin Energy Investment Co., Ltd., surveying the floor of the strait, recorded sonar images of a submarine resting 12 miles off the northeast coast of Hokkaido in the middle of the strait. Two years later, in July 2006, divers on board the Russian research sailboat Iskra based in Vladivostok descended 185 feet to the wreck, believing it was the Soviet sub L-19, lost at the end of World War II. What they found was an American sub, sitting upright on the ocean floor, completely intact. Iskra Captain Vladimir Kartashev filmed what appeared to be the Wahoo.
After the Navy's confirmation of the boat's identity in October 2006, Doug Morton, son of the skipper, expressed gratitude: "The Morton family is thrilled that there will be closure to the loss of our father. The loss of a famous submariner who was loved by his family and crew has been very difficult." There are no intentions to salvage or enter the wreckage. Rather, the Bowfin Museum will host a memorial ceremony in October 2007. The Navy also plans an at-sea wreath-laying service sometime in 2007.
Today, a memorial stands on Cape Sooya not far from where Japanese gunners first sighted the Wahoo. The inscription is written in both Japanese and English:
When the Wahoo was lost it was the highest-scoring submarine in the US Navy. Eighty Americans sleep in the Sooya Strait 12 miles northeast of here. Many Japanese sleep in the Sea of Japan from Wahoo attacks. This monument was erected by the members of the Japanese Attack Group and relatives of Americans lying in the Wahoo. Old enemies met as brothers to dedicate that our countries will have lasting peace and war will never again destroy the friendship we now enjoy today.