On 23 October 1944, three days after General Douglas MacArthur’s forces landed on Leyte Island in the Philippines, the Japanese navy emerged to fight. Awaiting them in the waters east of Luzon was Admiral William F. Halsey Jr.’s powerful U.S. Third Fleet. Operating with broad authority under an irrational command arrangement, Halsey would make critical decisions that would overshadow all else in his eventful career.
Few military maxims are more hallowed than the need for unity of command—the assignment of all forces in an operational area under a single command. Because U.S. Army and Navy leaders could not agree on a commander, command in the Pacific remained divided. Until the Philippines campaign, the operations of MacArthur in the Southwest Pacific and Admiral Chester W. Nimitz in the Central Pacific sharply diverged, so that few coordination problems resulted. With convergence of their operations in the Philippines, however, two U.S. fleets found themselves operating together under different lines of authority and with separate communication systems, a formula for confusion—and worse.
The U.S. Seventh Fleet, known as “MacArthur’s Navy,” functioned as the Leyte invasion force. Commanded by Vice Admiral Thomas C. Kinkaid, the relatively small Seventh Fleet was substantially reinforced by Nimitz.
Subordinate to Nimitz, Halsey’s Third Fleet provided the covering force. Halsey was ordered to “cover and support” MacArthur’s invasion forces and “destroy enemy and naval forces” that might threaten the operation. These were essentially defensive orders similar to those issued to covering forces for previous invasions. But Nimitz didn’t stop there. Months earlier, during the Battle of the Philippine Sea, the Japanese fleet escaped because of the caution exercised by Admiral Raymond A. Spruance. Anxious not to lose such an opportunity again, and with considerable confidence in Halsey, Nimitz went further without consulting MacArthur, instructing Halsey, “In case opportunity for destruction of major portion of the enemy fleet offer or can be created, such destruction becomes the primary task.”1 As historian Samuel Eliot Morison wryly observed about that instruction, it would become “the tail that wagged the dog.”2
Interpreting such conflicting orders, highly aggressive “Bull” Halsey believed he was given a broad mandate to engage and destroy the enemy. Halsey was frustrated at having missed the great carrier battles of the Coral Sea, Midway, and the Philippine Sea; his ultimate goal became eliminating Japan’s carrier fleet. He had repeatedly played the odds and won, and would have no reluctance to do so again.
A Gambler at War
Perhaps no other U.S. World War II leader at Halsey’s command level had, until then, risked so much so often with equal success.
When the nation was still reeling from the Pearl Harbor attack and needed a boost in morale, Halsey won the gratitude and trust of Nimitz by leading perilous carrier raids in the Central Pacific. These successful attacks turned Halsey into a national hero, his image further enhanced by safely transporting Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle’s airmen for their epic raid on Tokyo.
Afterward, Halsey left the sea for 20 months to command the war in the South Pacific from behind a desk in Noumea, New Caledonia. At the outset, when the issue at Guadalcanal was in doubt, his aggressive style ended in near disaster. At the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands, Halsey ordered Kinkaid, then his subordinate, to attack a superior Japanese force, ending in the loss of one carrier and damage to the last remaining U.S. carrier in the Pacific. Yet even this action yielded a considerable benefit by inflicting heavy losses on the Japanese carrier aircraft, which severely limited the enemy’s subsequent operations. Weeks later, fighting in the “Nelsonian spirit,” Halsey won the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal, ending Japan’s hope to reclaim the island.3 Later in the Solomons campaign, when many still considered such a maneuver too hazardous, Halsey leapfrogged heavily defended Kolombangara to seize lightly occupied Vella Lavella.
And Halsey’s capacity for risk was not limited to dealing with the Japanese. In close succession, he fired the two ranking Marine commanders in the Pacific, including highly respected Major General Charles D. Barrett, who committed suicide before his removal was announced. Barrett’s death saved Halsey from needing to defend his action, about which Marine Corps Commandant Lieutenant General Thomas Holcomb remarked, “[F]ew people would have believed that Halsey was right.”4 While Barrett’s suicide traded one crisis for an even greater one, Halsey authorized an audacious cover-up that made the cause of death appear accidental.
Afterward, in what he called his “most desperate emergency” in the South Pacific, Halsey ignored every rule against operating carriers near a major enemy base to repel a force of heavy cruisers that threatened the Bougainville beachhead. He risked two carriers and their precious air groups, but the Japanese vessels were caught in harbor and pummeled in a raid described as “a second Pearl Harbor in reverse.”5
With the winning of the Solomons, Halsey returned to sea, alternating with Spruance in command of a fleet designated the Third Fleet when commanded by Halsey and the Fifth Fleet when Spruance led it. A surface admiral, Spruance depended on advice from gifted Vice Admiral Marc A. Mitscher in conducting carrier operations.
In the more than two years since Halsey commanded at sea, carrier forces had increased exponentially and tactics markedly evolved. When leading his successful carrier operations early in the war, Halsey relied heavily on his chief of staff, Captain Miles A. Browning, a brilliant though erratic airman with “a slide-rule mind.”6 Browning was now gone, replaced by non-aviator Rear Admiral Robert B. Carney. As observed by historian Clark G. Reynolds, although they shared a “fiery temperament,” their relationship was not “conducive to stimulating disagreements.”7 Without an aviator such as Browning to challenge his thinking, Halsey followed his own instincts that had so far paid off handsomely.
The original Philippine invasion plan involved beginning with Mindanao, at the southern end of the archipelago. But, when Halsey’s pilots encountered little opposition over the central Philippines, he was convinced enemy air strength had been severely depleted and urged skipping Mindanao to strike directly at Leyte. Halsey guessed wrong about enemy strength, but the accelerated invasion caught the Japanese off guard. During his final operation before Leyte, Halsey had further opportunity to exercise his gambler’s instinct.
Raiding in the South China Sea to suppress Japanese ability to funnel aircraft into the Philippines, two of his cruisers sustained serious damage. Rather than sink the vessels and withdraw at high speed, Halsey had them taken under tow, the slow-moving cripples serving as lures while his other ships lurked at a distance. The Japanese didn’t bite, but the force returned safely, burnishing Halsey’s image as a consummate gambler.
Opening Moves
When the Japanese fleet did not respond immediately to the Leyte invasion, Halsey expected some respite. Since his ships and men had spent many months at sea and were in great need of refit and rest, he began rotating his four carrier groups to Ulithi. First to depart was Vice Admiral John S. McCain’s group, the largest with approximately 400 of the fleet’s 1,000 aircraft.
The Battle of Leyte Gulf began off Palawan on 23 October, when two submarines sighted and attacked a column of Japanese surface ships, sinking two cruisers and damaging another. Commanded by Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita and designated the Center Force by the Americans, the vessels were spotted the next morning in the Sibuyan Sea headed toward San Bernardino Strait. Flying from the three carrier groups posted east of Luzon and Samar, Halsey’s aviators pounced, mortally wounding the giant battleship Musashi and heavily damaging one cruiser. Kurita temporarily withdrew, while Halsey, relying on extravagant aviator reports, convinced himself the Center Force was badly whipped.
As a precaution in case Kurita renewed his advance and penetrated San Bernardino Strait, Halsey issued a bulletin warning that, if he later so ordered, his battleships with supporting units were to form Task Force (TF) 34 and engage the enemy. Information copies were sent to Nimitz and the Commander-in-Chief of the U.S. fleet (as well as the Chief of Naval Operations), Admiral Ernest J. King. Although Kinkaid was not an addressee, the message was intercepted by his message center, the ambiguous wording providing Kinkaid unwarranted comfort that TF 34 was actually being formed. The enemy threat, meanwhile, remained very real. Far from being in the shattered condition Halsey assumed, Kurita’s Center Force remained formidable with four battleships, six heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and ten destroyers. In late afternoon, Kurita reversed course and again headed for San Bernardino Strait.
That morning, Halsey’s aviators had spotted a smaller Japanese force in the Sulu Sea headed toward Surigao Strait. Designated the Southern Force, this was correctly interpreted as the other half of a pincer that was to converge with the Center Force at Leyte Gulf. After launching mostly unsuccessful air attacks, Halsey’s carriers departed to join the attack on the Center Force. Kinkaid was alerted and prepared to engage the enemy that night in Surigao Strait.
All along, Halsey wondered where the Japanese carriers were. The answer came in late afternoon, when four carriers with their supports were observed approaching from the north. As a result of severe attrition suffered in opposing Halsey’s South China Sea raid, this Northern Force, commanded by Vice Admiral Jisaburo Ozawa, mustered only 116 aircraft. It was a decoy intended to lure Halsey away while the Center and Southern forces converged at Leyte Gulf.
Several years later, Halsey described his three options.8 If he stood fast at San Bernardino Strait, he would have yielded the initiative and invited attack from both land-based aircraft and Ozawa’s carrier planes. The second choice was to form TF 34 and leave it behind to guard San Bernardino Strait, while his carriers attacked the Northern Force. Such separation, he believed, would violate the military principle not to divide one’s forces, which might then be beaten in detail. For Halsey, his third option was obvious. To preserve fleet integrity and retain the initiative, he chose to pursue the Northern Force with his entire fleet.
‘Bull’s Run’
Late on the evening of 24 October, Halsey headed north with three carrier groups while McCain was ordered to refuel at sea and rejoin him. Halsey’s movement was duly reported to Kinkaid, who assumed, from ambiguities in both the message intercepted earlier and this message, that TF 34 remained behind and was guarding his rear. Specifically, had Halsey simply reported that “all” his ships were headed north, rather than that he was departing with “three” carrier groups, Kinkaid’s misconceptions would not have occurred. Soon afterward, Halsey’s night fighters discovered that Kurita’s ships were moving east again, which was reported to Kinkaid. Thereafter, the fighters were reassigned to search for the Northern Force. Near midnight, a much-relieved Kurita passed unhindered through San Bernardino Strait on his way to Leyte Gulf.
Halsey’s bold decision did not go unquestioned. Carrier group commander Rear Admiral Gerald F. Bogan urged formation of TF 34 to confront Kurita. Brushed off by a Halsey aide who fielded the message, Bogan gave up. Elsewhere in the fleet, Mitscher’s chief of staff, Captain Arleigh A. Burke, concluded that the Northern Force was a decoy. Up to then, Halsey essentially had ignored Mitscher, the nominal commander of the Third Fleet’s fast carrier force, and directed carrier operations himself. The vice admiral told Burke, “If he wants my advice, he’ll ask for it.”9
At Surigao Strait that night, Kinkaid’s Seventh Fleet crossed the enemy “T,” essentially destroying the Southern Force and putting to flight an independent trailing force. In all, the Japanese lost two battleships, three cruisers, and four destroyers. Kinkaid’s staff was savoring their victory in the predawn hours of 25 October when it occurred to them it was never verified that TF 34 was covering San Bernardino Strait. In a message advising Halsey of the action in Surigao Strait, Kinkaid asked if the northern strait was being covered. And here the problem of unlinked communication systems exacted its full price. That message took two-and-a-half hours to reach Halsey, too late for his response to alert Kinkaid to the impending danger.
After being spotted in the late afternoon of the 24th, the Northern Force’s main body was not sighted again for nine hours and not accurately plotted until 0710 on the 25th. Mitscher, who had resumed tactical control of the carriers, had launched his aircraft an hour earlier, so they were airborne when the target was pinpointed. Meanwhile, shortly before 0700, Kinkaid’s inquiry about San Bernardino Strait was finally delivered. Not yet grasping the dire implications, Halsey responded that his battleships were all operating with the carriers, and he returned to the business at hand.
But Kinkaid would not go away. While the results of the first strike were tensely awaited, Halsey received a plain language message, sent more than an hour earlier, with the alarming news that enemy ships were attacking Kinkaid’s escort carriers. Further messages from Kinkaid followed, including at 0900 a plea for help received by radio. This prompted Halsey to order McCain to head for Leyte Gulf, which could be of only limited help since he was still very distant. Time still remained, though, for the fast battleships to form TF 34 and catch Kurita on his return trip before he slipped back through San Bernardino Strait. Intent on using his battleships to fully annihilate the enemy’s carrier force, Halsey let pass an opportunity that might have gone far to redeem his performance.
While strike reports streamed in announcing great success against Ozawa’s decoy force, Halsey attempted to quiet Kinkaid by reporting his position, making it obvious he was too far away to assist. But then there arrived a message that Halsey could not avoid. Though Nimitz learned early in the war not to interfere with his commander on the scene, the situation sounded so dire he could no longer stand aside. He signaled to Halsey: “WHERE IS REPEAT WHERE IS TASK FORCE THIRTY FOUR.” Appended to the message was the required “padding” at the beginning and end to help prevent enemy decoding, which customarily was removed by the recipient message center before delivery. From the poem “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” there was appended at the end of the message the phrase “THE WORLD WONDERS.”10 Because those words made sense when joined to the primary message, they were not removed, as they should have been, before the message was delivered.
Halsey was furious on receiving such a biting communication, which had also been sent as an information copy to King and Kinkaid. Breaking into tears and hurling his cap to the deck, Halsey needed to be brought to his senses by Carney. Had Nimitz’s message not forced him to act, Halsey might have pressed on with all his forces to annihilate Ozawa.11 Over the next hour, Halsey pondered his choices before deciding to detach all his battleships with supporting vessels as TF 34 along with Bogan’s carrier group for air cover. Two carrier task groups were left behind to deal with the Northern Force. With Ozawa’s ships then just 42 miles from the muzzles of the fast battleships, Halsey gave up his dream of using their guns to finish off the enemy carrier force.
After a delay of more than two-and-a-half hours to refuel the destroyers, TF 34 finally got off the mark. Halsey raced ahead with just two of the battleships and supporting vessels, arriving at San Bernardino Strait more than two hours too late to intercept Kurita.
Although Kinkaid had ordered nighttime air surveillance, for various reasons his airmen achieved nothing. Thus, it was a rude surprise when Kurita suddenly appeared off Samar after dawn on 25 October. During the following two-and-a-half hours, Kinkaid’s unprepared vessels wrote a glorious page in U.S. naval history. Escort carrier pilots trained for ground support threw themselves into attacks from above while destroyers and destroyer escorts dashed from smokescreens to deliver suicidal charges. Believing from the ferocious defense that he was facing more formidable forces, expecting even more powerful forces would arrive, and not knowing if Ozawa had lured Halsey away, Kurita reorganized his forces and withdrew.
As for Ozawa, through a combination of air, surface, and submarine attacks, all four of his decoy carriers were lost, along with four other vessels. Two carrier-battleships, a light cruiser, and five destroyers made it away safely, thanks to Halsey’s not leaving behind any fast battleships to finish them off.
Summing Up
When the results were tallied, it was clear that the Americans had scored a tremendous victory at the Battle of Leyte Gulf. At a cost of one light carrier lost by Halsey and two escort carriers, two destroyers, and a destroyer escort lost by Kinkaid, they sank three battleships, four carriers, ten cruisers, and nine destroyers.12 Never again would the Japanese have the ability to fight a fleet action. Still, the Seventh Fleet had only narrowly escaped disaster, and enemy surface forces that should have been eliminated by Halsey’s fast battleships returned home safely. When the complete story eventually emerged, “Bull’s Run” became one of the best-known and hotly debated events in naval history.
1. E. B. Potter, Nimitz (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1976), 325.
2. Samuel Eliot Morison, History of Naval Operations in World War II, vol. 12, Leyte June 1944–January 1945 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1958), 58.
3. Ibid., 175.
4. Alan P. Rems, “Halsey Knows the Straight Story,” Naval History, August 2008, 40-46.
5. Clark G. Reynolds, The Fast Carriers: The Forging of an Air Navy (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1992), 99.
6. Samuel Eliot Morison, The Two-Ocean War (Boston: Little, Brown, 1963), 154.
7. Reynolds, Fast Carriers, 257.
8. FADM William F. Halsey Jr., USN (Ret.), “The Battle for Leyte Gulf,” U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, vol. 78, no. 5 (May 1952), 490.
9. Thomas J. Cutler, The Battle of Leyte Gulf: 23–26 October 1944 (New York: Harper Collins, 1994), 213.
10. The ensign who couldn’t “keep his thoughts out of operational dispatches” was transferred out by Nimitz. See Potter, Halsey, 323.
11. Morison, Leyte, 329. Morison was told by Halsey that “the query from Nimitz . . . was the final factor that influenced his decision.”
12. Halsey lost the light carrier USS Princeton (CVL-23) to bombing by a land-based aircraft during the attack on Kurita in the Sibuyan Sea; the other American losses were incurred during Kinkaid’s desperate battle with Kurita off Samar.