Bali is the Mecca of every Asiatic tourist, certainly a “must” on the cruise itinerary of every naval officer. I passed by the Island of Bali twelve times, but never landed on it nor even saw it by daylight. I even fought a battle near it, the Battle of Badung Strait. Someday I’m going back and see if the post cards are true.
During the last days of Java, Bali was an important staging point for the ferrying of Allied fighter planes from Australia to Java. The Japanese knew this, and they also knew that they had to stop this flow of fighter planes to Java if they were to gain air superiority over the Allied Air Force in Java during their coming invasion. Accordingly, the first step in the conquest of Java was the taking of Bali. To prevent this conquest the Allies had only a small force consisting of two Dutch cruisers, the Java and DeRuyter, two Dutch destroyers, the Tromp and Piet Hein, and six overage, four-stack American destroyers, the John D. Ford, Pope, and Parrott, all veterans of the Battle of Macassar Straits, and the Stewart, Edwards, and Pillsbury.
Badung Strait is a narrow passage between the southeast coast of Bali, where the most important airfield on Bali is located, and the Island of Nusa Besar. This coast of Bali was also protected from the prevailing weather and was the place at which the Japanese were expected to land. On February 18 this expectation was fulfilled, when Japanese ships were discovered attempting a landing there.
The Allies hastily divided their available forces into three attack forces and commenced defensive operations. The plan of battle was for these three forces to hit the Japs the night of February 19. The first force was composed of the DeRuyter and Java in column, followed by the Piet Hein, John D. Ford, and Pope astern. This force was to leave Tjilatjap and to proceed north through Badung Strait, attacking at 10:00 p.m. At 1:00 a.m. the second force, composed of the Stewart, Edwards, Parrott, and Pillsbury, was to come into Badung Strait from the south, attack, and retire northward. At 2:00 a.m. Dutch motor torpedo boats were to clean out the remainder of the Jap force.
I was the Gunnery Officer of the John D. Ford. We were fresh from the Battle of Macassar Straits and confident that we could put up a good show. The Dutch plan of attack for our force was designed to make or break our small force of destroyers. Instead of the conventional idea of having the destroyers act as a screen for the cruisers, the DeRuyter and Java were going to go in ahead. We were to follow astern at about 3 miles, the theory being that we could then attack Japanese ships as they were engaging our cruisers. Unfortunately, this did not happen as planned.
In accordance with our plan, we got under way from Tjilatjap in time to enter Badung Strait the evening of the 19th. Just before dark we took our battle disposition, the DeRuyter and Java in column, the Piet Hein 3 miles astern of the Java, and the Ford and Pope astern of the Piet Hein. Communication was difficult. We spoke no Dutch, the personnel of the Piet Hein little English. Our communication was by International Flag Signals, a system designed primarily for peace time and providing few phrases for war use. Most of the time we followed the actions of the Piet Hein. The night was dark, but we had no difficulty entering the Strait. The precipitous coasts of these volcanic islands in this area make navigation easy. As long as we could see the coast we knew we were safe.
As we entered the Strait I made the usual last-minute preparations for battle. There’s something comforting about being on the offensive. You know when and where you’re going to -fight. You can be ready at the proper time and can stay relaxed until that time. Now, as our time came to be ready, I checked over my firing circuits, my gun crews and their equipment, and reported ready to the bridge. My men were most interested in finding out in which direction the island of Bali would be when we entered the Strait in order that they could swim to it if we were sunk.
I expected that we would encounter some sort of Japanese patrol as we entered the Strait, but there was none there. The first enemy sign we saw was a searchlight from a ship near the shore of Bali which flicked on, picked out the DeRuyter and Java, and then went off. This ship and the Dutch ships exchanged a rapid series of salvos, and then all was quiet. Then I was aware of the shapes of two Japanese cruisers near the Bali shore, proceeding north on a course parallel to ours and about 6,000 yards away. The Piet Hein sheered sharply left across the bows of the Jap cruisers, firing guns and torpedoes. It seemed suicide. It was. After two salvos from the leading cruiser the Piet Hein was a flaming mass. The Ford and Pope wisely stood on under cover of their own smoke, firing torpedoes at the Japs as we went. The cruisers turned away, avoiding our torpedoes, and leaving us alone. For almost five minutes we continued north through the Strait with our eye on a concentration of ships near the Bali shore. We were stepping right into a beautiful trap that had been sprung by the DeRuyter and Java. We managed to get off one spread of torpedoes at this concentration before all hell broke loose. Suddenly flame lashed out at us on both bows. A stabbing searchlight picked us out and held us. We swung right and then rapidly left and kept going left as fast as our straining engines would take us. Then the first salvo landed from the Jap cruiser firing on our starboard side. Our entire stern was submerged by the splashes of the shells landing around us. At almost the same time the other cruiser’s salvo sailed past overhead, the tracers disappearing overhead like a flock of burning geese. Both cruisers were firing regularly. I found myself counting, timing the flight of their shells. The next salvo all but submerged us again, and the next knocked all of us on the control platform down on deck. It was incredible that we could be straddled so many times and still not be hit. The Pope, following closely astern, but out of the searchlight beam and not under fire, said later that they thought we were gone a dozen times. We were doing our best to counter this vicious cross fire. Every gun aboard was firing rapidly and accurately, the gun crews oblivious of the murderous fire we were receiving. The Jap searchlight wavered and went out, leaving only the flashes of guns to illuminate the scene. By now we were in control of a bad situation. We had swung behind our own smoke screen and were firing torpedoes. We saw at least one hit. How many more hit we will never know. The Pope astern of us had been able to do considerable damage both to the concentration of transports and to the two cruisers firing at us.
By now we knew that we could not follow the DeRuyter and Java and retire north, so we continued south, expecting to retire to Tjilatjap. Astern of us we saw a strange sight. The Japs seemed to be having a war of their own. We knew none of our ships were there, so they must have been sinking themselves. I saw at least two destroyers get hit badly. One exploded and sank. Another burned until we passed over the horizon.
Later we learned that the Stewart, Edwards, Parrott, and Pillsbury had delivered a successful attack as scheduled and had got through to Surabaya. The Dutch torpedo boats went through without seeing anything and consequently making no attacks.
The next morning Dutch fliers reported a terrible scene of carnage in Badung Strait. A number of ships were lying bottom up in the Strait. Others were grounded off Bali. As at Macassar, only the Japs will ever be able to tell us how many ships they lost. In any event, the victory was ours. We lost only lightly—the Piet Hein and the Stewart, which capsized in dry dock at Surabaya after returning safely. We had not prevented the taking of Bali, but we had slowed up the Japs. The Allied air forces sent more ships to the bottom by day, but even their valiant efforts were to no avail. Bali eventually fell, and even the small trickle of fighter planes to Java was stopped. Eventually Java itself fell, but not before one final effort on the part of the Allied Fleet, which is another story I would like to tell. This small fleet that fought so well was game to the last. Every day it fought added one more day to the time given to Australia and the United States to prepare their defenses against the Jap horde. The ships and men of this fleet cheerfully gave their lives against overwhelming odds. I feel that in recording these lines I have helped to bring them some share of the recognition they so richly deserve.
Some day we who survived this campaign will be back in these waters, and, having passed by Bali twelve times without landing on it, I’ll not pass it again.