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The large Japanese carrier Zuikaku, burning from bombs dropped by U. S. carrier-based aircraft, tyrns sharply to starboard while damaging near-misses land off her bow and stern. Clearly, 19 June 1944, all the Japanese warships visible in this photograph were "in peril on the sea. ” The previous night, Adtniral Raymond A. Spruance had made a decision which, 30-years later, is still being hotly debated.
66
T
A he Marianas campaign would be radically different from the earlier campaigns against the Gilberts and Marshalls. The latter are low-lying coral atolls with islands no larger than several hundred acres. In contrast, the Marianas objectives—Saipan, Guam, and Tinian— are large, rugged, vegetated islands, over 300 square miles in total area. The American assault troops were accustomed to concentrated frontal attacks and restricted maneuver over the compact sand and coral islands. Now they would have to fight wide-ranging battles on mountains and farms, in sugarcane fields and well-developed towns. And this time civilian inhabitants would be heavily involved, because thousands of Japanese, Okinawans, and native Chamorros tilled the fields and operated the sugar refineries.
During early 1944 the Japanese had hastily reinforced the Marianas, sensing that they were the next logical American objective. But by June 1944 the fortifications were still incomplete, owing to a late start and to continual attacks upon supply convoys by American submarines. Yet the Marianas were formidable, defended by nearly 60,000 troops entrenched in rugged terrain and bolstered by more than 50 tanks and considerable artillery of many sizes.
Spruance commanded over 127,000 amphibious assault troops, transported and supported by over 600 ships. Vice Admiral Richmond K. Turner, U. S. Navy and Marine Lieutenant General Holland M. Smith directed the Northern Attack Force—the 2nd and 4th Marine Divisions with the 27th Infantry Division in reserve—which would seize Saipan on 15 June. Once Saipan was secured, they would assault adjacent Tinian. Rear Admiral Richard L. Conolly and Marine Major General Roy S. Geiger would lead the Southern Attack Force—the 3rd Marine Division and the 1st Marine Brigade—against Guam, whose D-Day tentatively was 18 June, although the ultimate date would hinge upon progress on Saipan. The 77th Infantry Division remained in reserve in Hawaii.
Many forces were dedicated to supporting the American assault troops. Vice Admiral John H. Hoover’s land-based air forces in the Marshalls, assisted by MacArthur’s air force in the Southwest Pacific, would suppress enemy air in the Caroline Islands. Vice Admiral Marc A. Mitscher’s Task Force 58 would smother Japanese air power in the Mariana, Volcano, and Bonin Islands, and it would shield the amphibious forces from any attacks by the Japanese fleet. The Japanese fleet had avoided any major action since the Battle of Midway, two years before, allowing plenty of time to rearm and
Copyright © 1974 by Thomas B. Buell from The Quiet Warrior: A Biography of Admiral Raymond A. Spruance. Used with the permission of Little, Brown and Company, Inc.
retrain its depleted carrier air groups. The Americans estimated that Japan had nine combat-ready carriers in the southern Philippines.
Opinions varied as to whether the enemy fleet would oppose the Americans in the Marianas. Admiral Chester W. Nimitz and Spruance had discussed that possibility and concluded that the enemy fleet probably would not appear. Spruance assumed that the Japanese would seek a fleet action only when they believed they would have a good chance of success. Significantly, they had recently ignored a tempting opportunity to crush MacArthur’s assault on Biak Island off northwestern New Guinea in late May. MacArthur, operating as usual without strong naval support, had been vulnerable to an attack by the Japanese fleet, but it had never appeared. If the Japanese would not attack MacArthur when they did have naval superiority, Spruance reasoned, then they were unlikely to attack the Fifth Fleet at the Marianas where they would be outnumbered. Eventually the Japanese would fight, Spruance thought, but their cause would not be helped by sacrificing their fleet in a one-sided sea battle off the Marianas. Nevertheless, he was prepared to fight the Japanese fleet if it unexpectedly appeared.
Spruance departed Pearl Harbor on 26 May in his flagship, the Indianapolis, and headed for the Marshall Islands, where the Fifth Fleet had assembled in the lagoons of Majuro, Kwajalein, and Eniwetok. There Spruance conferred on final plans with his principal commanders: Turner, Smith, Mitscher, Hoover, and Conolly. He also inspected the base developments ashore and, as always, was impressed by the Seabees’ industry, "The progress in four months in clearing away the wreckage and in building up from nothing is phenomenal,” he wrote his wife. "We really are a great people. For example, I went over to Roi-Namur, which I had last seen as a terrible scene of devastation and dead Japs. Now it is neat and orderly, with no signs of wreckage remaining.”
As Spruance and the Indianapolis moved from one lagoon to another, the news that the Allies had landed in Normandy swept the fleet. The military and industrial might of the United States never was more evident than at that moment, for America had successfully assembled two huge and powerful amphibious assault forces, a half-world apart, for simultaneous June offensives against the Axis powers. "I hope we get some of the [Normandy] news,” Spruance’s Chief of Staff, Captain Charles J. (Carl) Moore, wrote home. "I would like to follow the campaign. However, in a very short time we will have our own hands full, and I rather expect we shall forget that there is a Europe.”
On 9 June, the Indianapolis left Eniwetok and next
Battle of the Philippine Sea 67
day joined Task Force 58. Mitscher, responsible for eliminating the Japanese air threat in the Marianas before the amphibians arrived, proposed an afternoon strike on the airfields in lieu of the usual early-morning strikes, hoping to change the pattern of attack and to surprise the enemy. Spruance concurred.
The carrier preinvasion attacks against the Marianas on 11 and 12 June worked well, as Mitscher had hoped, and he estimated that his planes had destroyed 124 Japanese aircraft and had sunk or damaged 20 ships in a Japanese convoy escaping from Saipan. On the third day of the continual air strikes, the battleships under Vice Admiral Willis A. Lee, who commanded the surface screen in Task Force 58, hauled out toward Saipan to provide covering fire for the diminutive minesweepers clearing the approaches to the landing beaches. Spruance wanted a close look at Saipan, so the Indianapolis accompanied Lee’s battleships but did not join in the bombardment. The fast battleships, untrained in shooting at targets ashore, accomplished little of value. Fortunately, the Japanese did not bother the minesweepers, which in turn did not find any mines.
Late that night, with the Saipan landing scheduled to begin in less than 36 hours, the submarine Bowjin radioed a portentous message. She had sighted a Japanese force of four battleships, six cruisers, and six destroyers entering the Sulu Sea near the northeast tip of Borneo.
The Japanese fleet was on the move.
Spruance’s reaction to the Bowjin's report would be the first of his many critical deliberations and decisions during the Marianas campaign, and he established a routine that would best aid his power to concentrate and reason. By day he haunted the Indianapolis fore-
castle, interminably walking, thinking aloud with whoever was with him. Often Gil Slonim, his Japanese language officer, would dash to the forecastle and fall in step with his admiral, and the two men would discuss Slonim’s latest intercept of Japanese message traffic and its clues about the enemy’s next move.
When Spruance was not walking, he read, and he resented disturbances. "Unless you had something really important to talk to him about, he just wouldn’t talk,” Moore recalled. "He would make a nasty face and look disgusted, and if he did listen he acted as if he were bored to death. He never was excited and never showed any great amount of emotion. He was probably more quiet than ever.”
Yet Spruance concentrated intensely on those matters he thought important and conferred with his staff any hour of the day or night when he knew he had to make a decision. "He was thinking all the time,” said Moore, "and when the time came for something to be done, he usually anticipated me. He was ready to act on it before I was ready to present him with any proposals.”
Spruance now turned his attention to the Bowjin report. Although it indicated the Japanese fleet might be headed for Saipan, the report was still inconclusive. Spruance decided to proceed with the Saipan landings on schedule and await further information about the Japanese movements. On the other hand, Spruance had to alert the Fifth Fleet to the implications of the Bowjin sighting, and he also had to establish preliminary contingency plans.
The implication was that the enemy fleet might assemble and attack the American amphibious forces at Saipan as early as D-f- 2 (17 June). An attack before then was improbable owing to the long distance of
68 U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, July 1974
the sighted force from Saipan. Spruance earlier had scheduled two fast carrier task groups to strike Iwo Jima on 16-17 June, and he now alerted them that he might recall them early. He next directed Hoover to send long-range seaplanes to Saipan as soon as practicable, in order to patrol the western approaches to Saipan where the enemy might appear. He was helped by Nimitz at Pearl Harbor, who arranged for intensified submarine and land-based air searches. Finally, Spruance revised his fueling schedule so that Task Force 58 would be topped off the day before the Japanese fleet could first reach Saipan. Meanwhile, Turner’s amphibious forces continued their approach.
On D—1 the Indianapolis joined a bombardment group of cruisers and old battleships. The ships’ crews saw that Saipan was a large bucolic island, beautiful and green with an entire hillside swathed with red blossoms from indigenous flame trees. Peaceful villages dotted the countryside, and tall stacks marked the locations of sugar refineries. Then the dispassionate naval gunners methodically began to devastate the countryside. The Japanese replied with erratic cannon fire.
The Marines landed on 15 June. The Indianapolis cruised just off the beaches, and the troops in the assault landing craft waved as they passed close aboard, manifesting the enthusiasm that always seemed to be aroused by the awesome prelanding barrage. The Japanese replied with intense cannon and mortar fire, but by evening 20,000 Marines had advanced to their first day’s objectives. Turner, apparently optimistic after the first day’s success, recommended an 18 June D-Day for Guam. Despite the activity of the still-distant Japanese fleet, its intentions remained uncertain, so Spruance approved Turner’s recommendation. If progress on Saipan slowed or if the Japanese fleet appeared, he was prepared to reschedule the Guam landings.
That evening the tactical situation worsened. The submarine Flying Fish reported that a powerful Japanese naval force, which included carriers and battleships, had exited from San Bernardino Strait north of Samar in the Philippines. It was headed eastward at high speed into the Philippine Sea and could reach Saipan within three days. Therefore it could launch air strikes as early as the afternoon of the 18th, which Spruance had just designated as D-Day for Guam. The prospect was alarming.
Spruance decided to gather the scattered carrier task groups of Task Force 58 near Saipan on the 17th, the day before the Japanese fleet could possibly reach Saipan. In accordance with his earlier directive, two of his four task groups had departed for strikes against enemy airfields in the Bonin and Volcano Islands, over 700 miles northwest of Saipan. The first impulse would
have been to recall them immediately. Spruance, however, was not in a rush. He decided they had time for I an abbreviated mission before he might need them at Saipan. Therefore he ordered the two task groups to limit their strikes to one day only, the 16th; to return immediately in order to be within range of Saipan by the 17th; and to rejoin Task Force 58 by the 18th. The Fifth Fleet commander was cutting it thin, but he wanted to carry out as much of his original plan as possible before repositioning his warships to meet the new threat.
On the morning of the 16th the submarine Sea Horse sighted another enemy task force, this one 200 miles northeast of Mindanao, within two days’ steaming of Saipan. The western half of the Philippine Sea seemed to be crawling with Japanese ships headed toward the Marianas. Spruance was now certain that the Japanese fleet was seeking a fight and would risk everything in a determined attack while the Americans were entangled in the early and critical part of a large amphibious operation. The 18 June D-Day for Guam clearly was not feasible, and he postponed the Guam landings.
The Saipan invasion could not be canceled, however, because it had been underway for over a day. The American troops would be fighting ashore when and if the Japanese fleet arrived; Spruance therefore scheduled an immediate war council with Turner and Smith.
The Indianapolis bent on knots and shortly arrived alongside Turner’s flagship, the Rocky Mount, anchored off the Saipan landing beaches. As Spruance waited for a boat he surveyed the many fat, helpless transports, wallowing in the Saipan anchorage as they unloaded supplies and reinforcements for the troops ashore. Landing craft churned to and fro delivering cargo to the beaches. They were all so very vulnerable, mused Spruance—sitting ducks for an attack by the Japanese fleet.
"The Japs are coming after us,” said Spruance when he met with Turner and Smith. He was deeply worried about the transports’ safety and asked Turner if he could move them to a safer position to the east. Turner replied that the battle ashore was going badly. He was reluctant to evacuate the transports because the troops desperately needed the food and ammunition still in the ships’ holds.
"Well,” replied Spruance, "get everything that you don’t absolutely need out of here to the eastward, and I will join up with Mitscher and Task Force 58 and try to keep the Japs off your neck.” Turner’s operations officer recalled years later that everyone present was confident that Spruance would keep his promise.
Returning to the Indianapolis, Spruance broadcast messages to his forces to prepare them for the looming fleet action. Mitscher was to assemble and refuel Task
Force 58 in order to be ready to fight by next day, the 17th. While they waited, his carriers were to neutralize the major airfields on Guam and Rota, which were another potential threat. Hoover was to send the long-range seaplanes to Saipan to begin immediate searches to the west. Turner simultaneously detached his heavy bombardment ships to augment Task Force 58 and began to move its transports to the safety of the east.
At sunup on the 17th, Spruance estimated that the Japanese Fleet could be within striking distance of Saipan by that afternoon. His carrier aircraft scoured the western approaches throughout the morning but found nothing. Yet he was convinced that it was only a matter of time until the enemy appeared.
Spruance considered the possible Japanese tactics. He assumed the Japanese were after Turner’s transports. Their attacks probably would begin with long-range carrier aircraft strikes, followed by a surface engagement by their battleships, cruisers, and destroyers. The enemy might split their forces, turn Spruance’s flank, and sneak behind Task Force 58 in order to fall upon Turner’s transports off the Saipan beaches. The probability of a flank attack weighed upon Spruance’s mind; just before leaving Pearl Harbor in late May he had received a translation of a captured Japanese document containing the enemy’s current naval battle doctrine. The document recommended a feint at the center to draw the adversary’s attention, followed by a flanking attack. Since the Japanese navy had split its forces at the battles of Coral Sea, Guadalcanal, and Midway, Spruance had compelling reasons to believe the Japanese would do the same at Saipan, as well.
The airfields on Guam and Rota were another threat, because they were within easy range of American forces near Saipan. Despite Mitscher’s efforts to neutralize the airfields, the airfields could be continually reinforced by replacements flown in from the Caroline and Volcano Islands. Furthermore, the enemy could rearm and tefuel his carrier aircraft on those fields, then reattack without the planes having to return to their carriers. Therefore the Japanese carriers could launch their initial attacks at extreme range (far beyond the range of American aircraft) knowing their planes would be refueled ashore before returning.
Spruance pondered the best methods to employ Task Force 58 to meet these threats. His operation orders for all his amphibious campaigns contained a "Major Action Annex,” which purported to describe how he mtended to fight a fleet action. The annex envisioned fbat his main body of battleships and cruisers would form a battle line, and the carriers would operate to the rear. This plan, however, was flexible. Spruance
"After issuing a battle plan which he drew up himself Spruance also issued a directive to Mitscher and Admiral Lee at that time saying 'desire you proceed at your discretion, selecting dispositions and movements best calculated to meet the enemy under most advantageous conditions. I shall issue general directives when necessary and leave details to you and Admiral heed It was that sort of dispatch, that attitude, that contributed to making Spruance a great naval officer. His whole idea was, give his orders, trust his subordinates, and let them run the show. He would only interfere when necessary and they could look to him for directions, in case they wanted them, or he could interfere at anytime he chose if he didn't like what they were doing. ”
Rear Admiral Charles J. Moore,
U. S. Navy (Ret.)
Oral History Interview,
26 July 1966
never felt obligated to adhere to any of its provisions. Its primary purpose was to assemble his fast combatant ships in one body. From then on he would devise an extemporaneous battle plan based upon the tactical situation at the moment.
Throughout the morning of the 17th, Spruance and Moore discussed what that battle plan would be. Spruance had firmly established in his mind that his primary mission was to protect Turner’s amphibious shipping. He wanted to sink the Japanese fleet if he could, but only if the opportunity arose without risk to Turner’s ships.
By early afternoon their discussions were ended: the admiral had decided how he would fight the Japanese. Moore assumed that Spruance, as before, would want him to write the battle plan as a message order using the standard Naval War College format. To Moore’s surprise, Spruance began to write the battle plan himself. The War College format was too cumbersome and stereotyped, Spruance felt, and it might not accurately convey his thoughts to his subordinates. He wanted Mitscher and Lee to understand precisely what he wanted done so throughout the battle Spruance personally wrote his plans and orders in a simple language.
"Our air will first knock out enemy carriers as operating carriers,” Spruance wrote, "then will attack enemy battleships and cruisers to slow or disable them. Lee’s battle line will destroy enemy fleet either by fleet action if enemy elects to fight or by sinking slowed or crippled ships if enemy retreats. Action against the
retreating enemy must be pushed vigorously by all hands to ensure complete destruction of his fleet. Destroyers running short of fuel may be returned to Saipan if necessary for refueling.”
Spruance’s conventional yet aggressive battle plan was based entirely upon one unstated assumption: his conviction that the Japanese intended to grapple at close quarters off Saipan. Should the Japanese be that obliging, Spruance could achieve the desirable twofold objective of the "complete destruction” of the enemy’s fleet and the simultaneous protection of Turner’s ships. But his battle plan was flawed. It was too brief, too simple, and it disregarded two other enemy capabilities.
► It did not allow for the possibility that the enemy might avoid a fleet action by limiting its attack to long-range carrier air strikes beyond the shorter combat radius of the American carrier planes. In that event, Spruance would have to decide either to steam westward to close the range or to remain near Saipan and absorb the Japanese air strikes without being able to retaliate.
► It had no plan for a possible end run, a curious omission considering his preoccupation with that possible threat.
Spruance’s plan would have to be revised if his assumption was wrong. And Mitscher, ignorant of Spruance’s rationale in developing the battle plan, easily could misinterpret that plan—which indeed he did. Furthermore, Spruance’s battle plan suffered because it was based upon the enemy’s assumed intentions rather
than the enemy’s capabilities, in violation of sacrosanct Naval War College doctrine. Yet Spruance was well aware of the potential danger of plans based upon intentions rather than capabilities. Perhaps he felt he could easily revise his battle plan without jeopardy, should his original assumption be wrong—which it was and which he did.
Mitscher, upon receiving Spruance’s battle plan, asked the senior admiral what he wanted Task Force 58 to do that night, indirectly raising the issue of who would be the OTC. In earlier operations Spruance sometimes had acted as OTC; at other times he had passed tactical command to Mitscher.
Spruance replied: "Desire you proceed at your discretion selecting dispositions and movements best calculated to meet the enemy under most advantageous conditions. I shall issue general directives when necessary and leave details to you and Admiral Lee.”
Battle of the Philippine Sea 71
Thus Spruance had given Mitscher broad—albeit somewhat ambiguous—discretionary authority to employ Task Force 58 against the enemy. Mitscher’s authority, however, was governed and constrained by two directives: Spruance’s battle plan, which, when paraphrased, simply said, "Sink the Japanese fleet”; and Spruance’s basic operation order, which directed Task Force 58 to protect Turner’s amphibious force. At this point—the afternoon of 17 June 1944—both missions seemed compatible. If Mitscher sank the Japanese fleet (which had always been the aviators’ greatest ambition), he would simultaneously be fulfilling his obligation to protect Turner’s transports.
But the battle would not be that simple, and as time passed the tactical situation would become obscured in the fog of war. Spruance and Mitscher soon would disagree on how Task Force 58 could best "meet the enemy under most advantageous conditions,” and the two missions seemingly would become impossible to achieve simultaneously.
These problems came later. For the moment, Spruance had authorized Mitscher to select the tactics and formations that Task Force 58 would use against the Japanese fleet. In view of the aviators’ continuing criticism of Spruance’s use of the carriers, one might expect that Mitscher, a carrier admiral, would employ the task force in a different way from Spruance. But, in fact, Mitscher’s own Major Action annexes were similar to Spruance’s, which implied that the two admirals thought much alike in contemplating a fleet action. Mitscher formed a battle line under Lee and assigned Lee a carrier task group to provide close air support. He then positioned his other three carrier task groups behind the battle line, precisely as Spruance would have done.
The rationale for Mitscher’s arrangement was three
fold, and it assumed that the carriers would be the enemy’s primary target. First, the battle line, being interposed between the enemy and the American carriers, would provide a barrier of antiaircraft fire against the enemy planes passing overhead toward the carriers in the rear. Second, the enemy aircraft, reaching the battle line first, would be tempted to attack the expendable battleships and cruisers rather than pressing on to the carriers. And third, if the enemy surface ships did manage to close Task Force 58, the battle line could engage them before they reached the thin-skinned carriers.
Aviators in earlier years had opposed the Naval War College doctrine of tethering the carriers to the battleships, because the prewar battleships, slow and un- wieldly, restricted the carriers’ speed and mobility. But the new battleships were as fast as the carriers and served as a moving shield. And that was how Mitscher intended to use them. Turner’s plodding, obsolescent battleships from the bombardment group remained behind, just off the Saipan beaches, in order to protect the transports from any Japanese surface ships that might slip by Task Force 58.
The 17th of June wore on without further sign of the Japanese fleet. Turner returned from the east during the day with transports that landed troop reinforcements and supplies. He reported that the Saipan fighting was hot and heavy and that the enemy was strongly resisting. Over 1,500 Americans had been killed and 4,000 were wounded in the first three days of fighting. As evening fell, a handful of Japanese planes attacked and hit several amphibious ships, and Turner again withdrew his force to the east.
Spruance waited for more information on the location of the Japanese fleet. He received some coast- watchers’ reports, but they were old and unreliable. When Spruance went to bed that evening, he still believed that the Japanese would bore in for a fleet action.
So did Nimitz. He made his expectations explicit in a message to Spruance. "On the eve of a possible fleet action,” radioed the commander in chief, "you and the officers and men under your command have the confidence of the naval service and the country. We count on you to make the victory decisive.”
Spruance’s sleep was interrupted when Moore wakened him a few hours after midnight. The submarine Cavalla had sighted a 15-ship Japanese task force 800 miles west-southwest of Saipan.
Spruance and Moore reevaluated the Japanese movements, and new conclusions emerged from their analysis. Increased bogey activity indicated that the Japanese were shadowing Task Force 58, and it seemed that the
72 U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, July 1974
Japanese fleet was not converging upon Saipan as rapidly as it could. It was as if the enemy, knowing where Spruance’s carriers were located, was deliberately staying beyond the range of the American search planes. The enemy seemed to be probing and feinting, as if hoping to hit Turner while avoiding Task Force 58, perhaps by luring Spruance westward so they could sneak behind him. The latter gambit seemed possible, Spruance thought, because the Japanese fleet was scattered and not accounted for. Furthermore, the submarine sightings indicated to him that a separate task force might be creeping up from the south for a possible end run.
Spruance concluded that he had again misinterpreted the enemy’s intentions. Before the Marianas operation he had believed that the enemy fleet would not oppose the invasion; then, on the basis of reported enemy movements in the Philippines, he had changed his mind and had assumed they would seek a fleet action. "For a second time it turned out I was wrong,” he later wrote Nimitz. "Their attitude about risking their fleet had not changed. Their methods of operation had changed, in that they were using carriers again. They intended to use their fleet to exploit any advantages that their carrier air might gain. They had no intention of throwing everything at us by coming in to Saipan at high speed to fight it out.”
Spruance now had to change his battle plan to adapt to the newly apparent Japanese tactics. Until he knew the locations of all the major elements of the Japanese fleet, he felt he could, not leave Saipan unprotected either to attack or to search for the enemy. The Japanese alone would decide the time and the place that the fight would begin. They knew where Spruance was, but he did not know where they were. He would have to wait and let the enemy come to him.
Spruance’s chance of winning a "decisive victory” for Nimitz were ebbing.
The sun rose and an early morning breeze swept across the dew-wet decks of the Fifth Fleet. The staff officers on the Indianapolis watched Mitscher’s nearby carriers turn into the easterly wind and launch the first search planes.
Damn that east wind. The enemy fleet lay to the west, but whenever Mitscher wanted to land or recover aircraft he had to steam eastward, away from the enemy and opening the range. The Japanese, however, by steaming eastward simultaneously could operate aircraft and close the range, an important tactical advantage.
Spruance’s thoughts had drifted back to the Naval War College, and he recalled his study of the 1904 Russo-Japanese War. The Russian fleet had attempted to reinforce Vladivostok, and it had been opposed by a Japanese fleet commanded by Admiral Togo. Togo
had elected to wait for the Russians and thereby had won a crushing victory. "The way Togo waited at Tsushima for the Russian fleet to come to him has always been on my mind.” Spruance later wrote an historian. "We had somewhat the same situation, only it was modified by the long range striking power of the carriers.”
Spruance had always admired Togo, whom he had once seen at a reception decades before, during the cruise of the Great White Fleet to Japan. As a Naval War College student in 1926, Spruance had written that Togo had allowed his subordinate commanders freedom of action and the exercise of initiative. Spruance had also been impressed by Togo’s coolness, patience, and great presence of mind in the stress of battle. The Japanese admiral had successfully persevered in his original battle plan, wrote Spruance, and he had not yielded to thoughtless, impetuous actions.
Now Spruance found himself torn between a compulsion to seek out the enemy fleet and a constraint to remain near Turner at Saipan. "I believe that making war is a game that requires cold and careful calculation,” he once said. "It might be a very serious thing if we turned the wrong way, just once.”
At 0730, the Cavalla radioed that she still was chasing the same Japanese force, which she had reported at midnight 800 miles southwest of Saipan. It now was 700 miles from Saipan and closing. Mitscher announced that he thought the Cavalla's contact was the main body of the Japanese fleet. In conformity with Spruance’s battle plan of the day before, Mitscher said that he intended to steam southwest at high speed toward that enemy, to locate the enemy fleet with search planes in the afternoon, and to seek a surface engagement that night.
But Spruance had drastically changed his plans, and he quickly restrained his carrier commander by issuing new instructions. Spruance began by reminding Mitscher of his primary mission: "Task Force 58 must cover Saipan and our forces engaged in that operation.” He disagreed with Mitscher’s assumption that the Japanese fleet would come from the southwest and warned against diversionary attacks and end runs. Rather than racing to the southwest as Mitscher had proposed, Spruance intended to stay near Saipan, searching westward by day and retiring eastward toward Saipan at night to prevent the Japanese from passing them in the dark. Furthermore, neither Spruance nor Lee wanted a night surface engagement proposed by Mitscher. Spruance’s numerical superiority made him stronger by day, while the hazards of a night melee favored the numerically weaker Japanese, who were better trained for night action.
Spruance’s revised battle plan was wholly defensive
in tone, with the exception of a contradictory closing | sentence, . . earliest possible strike on enemy carriers is necessary.” The sentence reflected wishful thinking; it would be almost impossible to achieve given the restrictions Spruance had imposed upon Task Force 58. Tied down to Saipan, the force would have scant opportunity to close the range in order to attack the skittish, evasive Japanese carriers.
Mitscher’s searches to the west were fruitless throughout the day of the 18th. Yet bogies continued to shadow the task force, convincing Spruance, more than ever, that the enemy was monitoring his movements with long-range carrier and cruiser planes. The differing ranges of the opposing aircraft were a vital factor. The American planes could attack at ranges of 150 to 200 miles and could search out to 350 miles when extra gas replaced the ordnance load. The Japanese planes carried more gas because they were not weighted down with armor and self-sealing fuel tanks; thus they could attack at 300 miles and search to 560 miles. These ranges could be increased if they refueled at the Marianas airfields.
Spruance waited for more reports as he continued to pace the forecastle, frequently accompanied by Slonim and by his Flag Secretary, Lieutenant Commander Charles F. Barber. Although the two younger officers were not involved in operational planning, Spruance often discussed with them his intentions and his reasoning for his decisions, using them as sounding hoards. He told them he had decided to proceed westward until midnight, and if he had not discovered the Japanese fleet by then, he would reverse course and return to Saipan.
Spruance signaled these intentions to Mitscher at dusk, and the aviator responded that he would prefer tQ continue westward past midnight. Spruance, respect- mg Mitscher’s advice, reconsidered his decision with Moore and the staff, then reaffirmed to Mitscher that he still intended to reverse course at midnight unless ffiey found the enemy.
Night fell, and the locations and intentions of the Japanese fleet remained a mystery. The staff continued to discuss the best course of action, and their opinions Were divided. Some agreed with Spruance, while others Supported Mitscher’s desire to continue heading west. Spruance, perhaps weary of the debates, left flag plot Jud went to bed about 2100. The staff’s arguments c°ntinued unabated after his departure.
Slonim and Barber drifted into the admiral’s cabin, joined the watch officer on duty at the plotting board, aod resumed their discussion of the tactical situation. Spruance suddenly appeared from his adjacent bedroom, Perhaps disturbed by their voices, and he again explained his decision.
. . The Spruance-Turner- Holland Smith combination was an ideal one. Both the latter were strong-willed, outspoken, vigorous fighters. They knew what they wanted and what to do with what they had. When their ideas were in conflict, which was often the case, it was Spruance who got them together in his quiet, reasoned way. But once the plan of action was decided upon, all three pulled together as a team, and the successful movement across the Pacific bears testimony to the power and perfect coordination of that team. ”
Admiral Harry W. Hill, U. S. Navy (Ret.)
i
Oral History Interview, 5 July 1966
74 U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings. July 1974
As he spoke, it became clear that his battle plan was based upon assumed Japanese intentions—he was trying to think like his enemy. "If I were the Japanese admiral in this situation,” he said, "I would split my forces and hope that the ships remaining to the west were sighted in order to decoy the main forces of the American fleet away from Saipan. Then I would slip behind with my separated strike force in order to get into Saipan and if possible destroy the transports.” Spruance also explained that he assumed the Japanese admiral’s mission "was to protect Saipan, and this could be most effectively done by destroying the transports and the support forces, the Japanese troops ashore being quite adequate against the Marines that already had been landed.”
Having explained his reasoning, Spruance returned to bed.
Some years after the war, Spruance revealed his way of thinking when he fought the Japanese. Whenever he was in a tight situation he would say to himself, "Now what would I do if I were a Japanese with these capabilities in this position?” Spruance felt he understood the Japanese mind and character after his years of study and his personal friendship with Japanese naval officers before the war. Using this kind of logic, Spruance by midevening had convinced himself not only that the Japanese were capable of an end run in order to hit the transports, but that indeed they would do exactly that. Apparently Spruance did not seriously believe that the Japanese admiral might have been after Mitscheds carriers rather than Turner’s transports, using a concentrated naval force in one main body.
If the Japanese admiral did not split his forces and sought carriers rather than transports, then Spruance’s revised battle plan was potentially disastrous. It would expose his carriers to long-range air attack, and they would be unable to retaliate. In the long run, the potential losses and damage to his carriers might jeopardize the operations against the Marianas more than the loss of several transports. Furthermore, if he lost his own carriers without sinking Japanese carriers in return, the growing American preponderance in naval strength might well be abated, thereby handicapping or delaying future American offensives.
On the other hand, if Spruance changed his mission from covering Saipan to seeking out and destroying the Japanese fleet, the possible gain might be worth the increased risk. If he was successful, he would eliminate a major threat to future American operations and would possibly shorten the war. That kind of gain might well be worth the risk of losing a few transports and a concomitant delay in seizing Saipan. Nimitz’s explicit message the day before, urging a decisive victory in the possible fleet action, was more than enough
justification for Spruance to modify his original mission of covering Saipan regardless of the tactical situation.
The risk of leaving Saipan unguarded by Task Force 58 could be alleviated by other means. Spruance had stationed Turner’s seven old battleships off the Saipan beaches to help guard against an enemy surface force. In addition to the fast carriers of Task Force 58, he had 11 escort carriers whose planes could provide limited protection at Saipan against Japanese ships and planes. These forces—the old battleships and escort carriers—could fight a delaying action against an end run (should it materialize) while Task Force 58 was fighting a fleet action to the westward. In that event, Task Force 58 could immediately return to Saipan at high speed, continually heading into the wind for air operations while quickly closing the range to Saipan, hopefully before a Japanese flanking force could inflict unacceptable damage. Mitscher claimed later that he favored this plan.
But this plan, too, had several drawbacks. Both the old battleships and the escort carriers were slow and could be easily outmaneuvered by the swifter Japanese combatants. The old battleships were armed primarily with high-explosive projectiles for shore fire bombardment; therefore they carried a limited supply of armorpiercing projectiles which were best suited for surface engagements. Similarly, the escort carriers carried few if any torpedoes and armor-piercing bombs, their mission being to employ thin-skinned high-explosive bombs in support of the forces ashore.
There also was the possibility that the enemy fleet, if it was concentrated and did not plan an end run, would avoid battle by countermarching in response to an advance westward by Task Force 58. In that event, the Japanese fleet would escape damage, but on the other hand, the enemy would not be able to attack the transports.
All these alternatives and more had been discussed, examined, and debated between Spruance and his staff throughout the day and early evening of the 18th. Spruance had to make the final decision, and when he went to bed about 2130 it was irrevocable: he would stay near Saipan and let the enemy come to him. He would risk his carriers before he would risk his transports.
Spruance had been in bed less than an hour when he received a message from Nimitz. CinCPac radio interceptors had located the flagship of the Japanese commander in chief, estimated to be west-southwest of Task Force 58 at about 350 miles. The watch officer plotted the position on the chart in Spruance’s cabin. The position presumably was accurate to within 100 miles, and it coincided with the estimated course and
Battle of the Philippine Sea 75
speed of the large Japanese task force twice sighted by the Cavalla within the past 24 hours.
Moore and others of the staff assembled with Spruance in the flag cabin to analyze the radio-intercept report. To some of them, it proved that a major portion of the Japanese fleet was closing at high speed and would attack in the morning. Again they urged Spruance to head westward in order to hit the Japanese carriers at dawn. But Spruance was dubious. Perhaps it was a fake transmission, he said, a decoy to draw Task Force 58 westward. And even if the transmission was genuine, it still did not eliminate the possibility of an end run.
A half hour before midnight, Mitscher sent Spruance a TBS message, which the staff watch officer copied and passed down to the flag cabin. In view of the CinCPac radio intercept, Mitscher proposed to come west at 0130 in order to launch an attack against the enemy carriers at 0500. Did Spruance concur?
Mitscher’s message renewed the controversy within the flag cabin. Then yet another report was received—
the submarine Stingray was trying to transmit a message and the Japanese were jamming the radio frequency. The Stingray was 135 miles south of the suspected Japanese main body; perhaps, said Spruance, she had discovered a flanking force and was being jammed to prevent a sighting report.
An answer to Mitscher’s message was imperative, and an hour had passed since it had been received. Spruance summarized his estimate of the situation to the staff. Nothing was clear, he said. The Japanese fleet might be concentrated or it might be divided into two or more groups. The enemy might be advancing directly toward Saipan, he might be remaining at long range from Saipan, or he might be maneuvering for a flanking attack from the north, the south, or from both directions.
Spruance announced his decision: Task Force 58 would return to Saipan and would not head west as Mitscher had recommended. Had anyone anything else to say, he asked. All were silent.
Spruance picked up a pencil and wrote his reply to Mitscher: He did not agree with Mitscher’s proposal. The Stingray jamming report was more significant than the CinCPac radio intercept. Spruance still thought an end run was possible, but he was puzzled by the explanation because he was unaware of the Stingray report.
Task Force 58 turned their sterns toward the advancing enemy and retired toward Saipan.
At dawn on 19 June Mitscher had filled the sky with search planes, but they found nothing. Japanese planes, however, began flying from the airfields on Guam, and Mitscher launched a fighter sweep. Just before 0900, Spruance received a delayed sighting message from a long-range seaplane based at Saipan. It had sighted a large enemy force at 0115 in the general vicinity of the CinCPac radio intercept—the same force that Mitscher had wanted to advance upon and attack. Although annoyed that such an important sighting report had been delayed almost eight hours, Spruance would have returned to Saipan under any circumstances. Even that report did not preclude the possibility that other Japanese forces still were undiscovered. Nothing could change his certainty of an end run.
With Spruance in that frame of mind, the entire Japanese navy could have announced its presence on the western horizon, but Spruance would not have gone after it unless he was positive the enemy would
The pinwheeling torch that fell near the USS Kitkun Bay (CVE-71) on 18 June 1944, was one of 476 aircraft—along with 445 aviators—which were lost by the Japanese.
76 U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, July 1974
not attack from either of his flanks. His freedom of action was thereby severely curtailed by his refusal to attack unless he knew the location of every Japanese naval force within range of Saipan. A decisive victory over the Japanese fleet seemed remote.
At 1000, hordes of Japanese aircraft approached the task force, some from the enemy carriers to the west and others from the airfields on Guam and Rota. The Indianapolis sounded general quarters, but Spruance, pacing the forecastle, seemed not to notice. In exasperation, the Indianapolis commanding officer asked Moore to get Spruance inside so the ship could fire her forward antiaircraft guns. Eventually the admiral came to the flag bridge to watch the action. Mitscher was in charge, and Spruance quietly read in his chair during most of the ensuing battle.
It was a spectacular, one-sided battle. Mitscher’s deployment of Task Force 58 worked precisely as envisaged. The enemy planes initially concentrated their attacks on Lee’s battle line, stationed in front of the carriers and acting both as a magnet for the Japanese planes and as a buffer for the carriers in the rear. The surface ships belched smoke from their antiaircraft batteries, darkening the sky with black, bursting flak. The American carriers continually launched and recovered their aircraft, which when airborne climbed into the western sky toward the cloud of attacking Japanese planes.
Throughout the day the enemy tumbled into the sea from aloft, with long trails of smoke marking the path of their final descent. A few evaded the CAP and the battle line and bored into the cruiser-destroyer screen surrounding the carriers in the rear. One low- flying plane near the Indianapolis simply disintegrated in flight; its torpedo fell lazily into the sea, and its wings and fuselage drifted apart, spiraled down, and splashed. Another plane swept over the flagship, and the Indianapolis gun crews poured a torrent of tracers skyward which eventually converged on the target. The plane jolted, faltered, and crashed, and the ship erupted with cheers and exultation.
But the Japanese carriers launching the planes still were undiscovered and remained immune from attack. Spruance had to find them. At midmorning he ordered Rear Admiral Harry W. Hill at Saipan to fly in as many seaplanes as he could handle and to resume long-range searches again that night. In the early afternoon Mitscher flew a search to the west. The American planes found no Japanese ships, but they did tangle in dogfights with Japanese carrier planes, while the Japanese carriers cleverly stayed just beyond the range of Mitscher’s search planes. And Mitscher could not close the range owing to the easterly wind, which forced Task Force 58 gradually to move into the lee of Guam.
By midafternoon Spruance no longer feared an end run. The Japanese had lost several hundred planes during the day and few would remain for any attacks against the transports. Now eager for an aggressive search and attack westward, he sent new orders to Mitscher: "Desire to attack enemy tomorrow if we know his position with sufficient accuracy,” adding that he wanted to go as far west as air operations and the fickle east wind would permit.
By early evening the last American plane landed, and Task Force 58 charged toward the Japanese fleet. Spruance now had reliable reports that an American submarine had torpedoed an enemy carrier about 375 miles west of Task Force 58, and he hoped to hit the crippled carrier next morning, as well as any attending escorts. Very likely Spruance had begun to doubt that he would find any healthy Japanese ships. They were probably in full retreat, he reasoned, given the heavy Japanese air losses during the day.
The Japanese losses were catastrophic—383 planes Mitscher estimated. (The battle became informally known as "The Marianas Turkey Shoot.”) By comparison, Mitscher lost only 25 planes and his carriers were untouched. One American battleship had been hit, but damage was slight. But the ships of the Japanese fleet were still unscathed (except for the torpedoed carrier), they were getting away, and as darkness fell on the 19th Spruance and Mitscher and Task Force 58 had embarked upon a belated tail chase.
By midmorning of the next day, the enemy’s whereabouts still was unknown. Spruance told Mitscher to continue searching. If they had found nothing by the end of the day, the Americans would abandon the chase and return to Saipan. Mitscher concurred.
The day wore on without any sighting reports. Even the damaged carrier had disappeared, and the atmosphere in flag plot was tense. The nervous staff smoked often and fouled the air. The smell revolted Spruance, and finally he sternly forbade smoking in flag plot. As usual in such cases, the staff did not take him seriously. Spruance never would pressure his staff to change their personal habits—whether it was smoking or Moore’s feet on the furniture—because he might hurt their feelings. The staff knew this and knew just how far they could circumvent Spruance’s edicts. In this case, they simply smoked when the admiral was absent. Whenever he entered, the staff would elaborately extinguish their cigarettes, immediately relighting them after Spruance left. As Spruance frequently was in and out of flag plot, the ban on cigarettes became ludicrous.
Mitscher’s search planes finally found the retreating Japanese fleet in midafternoon. It was like a reprieve. But the report was garbled, and Spruance, Moore, and
Captain Emmet P. Forrestel, the operations officer, anxiously hovered over the sweating watch officer trying to decipher the information. Eventually the enemy position was plotted on the chart.
The enemy ships were at the extreme range of the American attack aircraft, and darkness was but a few hours away. If Task Force 58 launched that afternoon, the aviators would have to conserve their fuel, attack in dusk, and land at night with gas tanks nearly empty. The Americans might be able to wreak considerable damage upon the enemy, but a follow-up attack in the morning would be nearly impossible owing to the confusion and delay of a night recovery. Mitscher therefore told Spruance that the carriers "were firing their bolt,” and that he wanted to attack immediately. Spruance concurred. Mitscher’s planes roared aloft, were briefly silhouetted in the late-afternoon sun, then disappeared into the western sky.
Hours of waiting. Then the familiar argot of pilots in combat blared over the radios, pilots obviously fighting their way through Japanese fighters and naval gunfire in order to attack the enemy fleet. They reported they were hitting ships, but the darkness and the want of fuel prevented a sustained attack. Soon they began their return to the carriers. It was now night.
The ships turned on their lights and fired starshells 2nd flares to guide the aircraft home. The returning planes plopped aboard any flight deck they could find. Many planes fell short, either from battle damage or fuel exhaustion, and destroyers rescued the pilots. The scene before Spruance was unreal: planes milling overhead and crashing in the water; the tired, strained voices of exhausted pilots on the radio; searchlight beams stabbing the sky as homing beacons, or sweeping the water in search of survivors; ghostly flares sputtering over the warm, calm waters fired by gallant pilots in life jackets waiting for rescue. To add to the confusion, an anonymous radio voice reported that a Japanese plane had tried to land on a carrier. Rattled voices ordered "Commence fire,” but the orders wisely were ignored.
When night ended, Task Force 58 was in disarray. Ships were scattered over the ocean, many still searching for survivors, and the carriers were sorting out the aircraft that had landed on the first available flight deck. Spruance and Mitscher reorganized the force and continued their pursuit and search westward, but by then they only could hope to find cripples. Search planes could see the Japanese fleet retreating to the northwest, but they were beyond range of attack. Spruance could not close the range; heading into the east wind for flight operations restricted any significant advance northwestward towards the fleeing enemy, and the advance was further slowed by refueling of the destroyers.
"I well recall that when we took over from him in the Okinawa campaign, that the majority of his staff were dog tired and showed it. They were being constantly subjected to general quarters because of kamikaze raids and air threats and one thing and another. I failed to see any sign of fatigue, weariness, or the impatience of fatigue in Spruance. So he had this remarkable capacity to resist pressure and resist fatigue. I have very, very warm feelings for him. ”
Admiral Robert B. Carney, U. S. Navy (Ret.)
Oral History Interview,
12 September 1963
78 U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, July 1974
At 2000 Spruance abandoned the chase, and Task Force 58 reversed course towards Saipan, 700 miles away. The Battle of the Philippine Sea had ended.
"The enemy had escaped,” wrote a disappointed Mitscher in his battle report. "He had been badly hurt by one aggressive carrier air strike, at the one time he was within range. His fleet was not sunk.”
Mitscher’s embittered conclusion typified the criticism and reproach directed against Spruance in the aftermath of the Battle of the Philippine Sea. "There will be a lot of kibitzing in Pearl Harbor and Washington about what we should have done,” wrote Moore shortly after the battle, "by people who don’t know the circumstances and won’t wait to find them out.” There was considerably more than kibitzing. Vice Admiral John H. Towers, the senior Pacific naval aviator, even then was demanding to Nimitz that Spruance be fired for mishandling Task Force 58 and for allowing the Japanese fleet to escape. Towers, of course, recommended himself as Spruance’s replacement.
Naval writers, historians, and naval officers have all expressed their opinions of Spruance’s decisions during the battle. Their judgments vary widely, reflecting the complexity of the problems that Spruance had to solve in the pressure of war.
The crux of a battle analysis revolves about Spruance’s mission, which he steadfastly maintained was to protect the transports at Saipan. He accomplished that mission, but in so doing he risked extensive losses and damage to his carrier force. By not allowing Task Force 58 to hit the Japanese carriers on 19 June, Spruance forced the American carriers to absorb the full impact of the Japanese air attack. Furthermore, when Spruance returned to the Marianas on the night of 18-19 June, he denied the carriers the sea room they needed for prolonged flight operations. The carriers had to steam eastward toward Guam throughout the day while launching and recovering, and some ran out of both wind and room. More than one carrier had to delay flight operations in order to dodge around the islands.
Earlier in the war, these tactical handicaps would have been fatal to the Americans. But the Japanese aviators in June 1944 were poorly trained and inexperienced when compared to their predecessors of the 1942 era. They were no match for Mitscher’s superb fighter pilots who were able to crush the Japanese attacks, and thereby prevent damage to Task Force 58. Spruance was very lucky that Mitscher’s superior aviators were able to overcome his deliberately imposed hazards.
Could Spruance reasonably have modified his mission on the night of 18-19 June to include two objectives: to destroy the Japanese fleet and to cover Saipan? The answer is yes.
Spruance returned to Saipan that fateful night because he thought the transports would be needed there the next day. But they were not needed. Spruance could have ordered all the transports to safe haven in the east without unduly jeopardizing the troops ashore at Saipan. The looming fleet action would have been decided within a day. The troops could have held their own for that long, even if they had been forced temporarily to delay their offensive.
Recalling the situation on the eve of the sea battle, Holland Smith later wrote, "Our position ashore was not too bad. When I went ashore I had not the slightest apprehension. We had landed all our artillery and this partially compensated for the lack of naval gunfire. . . . The Marine has a winning philosophy. He feels that once he gets on the beach with his weapons, he can’t be pushed off. And we were all too busy to worry a great deal about the departure of the fleet.”
Yet Smith’s optimism had not been made apparent to Spruance. When Spruance deliberated on the night of the 18th, he had heard nothing to modify Turner’s original warning of the 16th that the troops were in trouble and that the transports were indispensable for their survival. In fact, Hill had radioed Turner on the night of the 18th that he would require the entire transport force at Saipan for unloading as early as practicable on the 19th, implying that the troops still were in deep trouble. Although Turner refused Hill’s request and directed the transports to retire eastward on the night of 18-19 June, Spruance must have assumed that at least some would return to Saipan in the morning.
In reality, Hill’s request had been triggered by Holland Smith’s concern on the 18th that his stockpile of supplies might become dangerously low. Nevertheless, the American troops were winning, the Japanese were staggering, and the official Marine Corps history states that "all in all, the situation looked as promising to American eyes as it seemed grave to the Japanese.”
Thus, unknown to Spruance, the tactical situation on Saipan had greatly improved in the 60 hours since he had conferred with Turner and Smith on the forenoon of the 16th. It would appear that by the evening of the 18th every transport could have remained in the safety of the east for the next 36 hours without endangering the troops ashore. Yet Spruance continued to operate on the assumption that the transports still were vitally needed off the Saipan shores on the 19th.
In a swiftly moving battle, the tactical situation frequently changes. Plans must be modified to adapt to new situations, because original plans often are based upon assumptions which no longer are valid. In the military planning process, this step is known as the Supervision of the Planned Action.
When Spruance was deliberating whether to close 4e Japanese fleet on the night of 18-19 June, he "'Ould have been prudent to reconsider his original Gumptions made two-and-a-half days earlier. The Levant question that fateful night should have been "'hether all the transports could be moved eastward kr 24 to 36 hours in order to free Task Force 58 for a decisive fleet action. Yet Spruance did not propose 'his to Turner, nor did Turner volunteer to clear to d'e east so Spruance could advance on the enemy. ^ather, everyone seemed to assume that it was essential [hat Turner return some of his transports to Saipan on the 19th. When no one thought to ask otherwise, spruance returned to Saipan with Task Force 58 rather 4an advancing westward toward the enemy.
The Battle of the Philippine Sea could have been eritirely different had Spruance asked Turner on the "'ght of 18-19 June: "I propose to head west to meet f^e enemy in the morning. Can your troops dig in ^°r 36 hours while you move all your transports east to safety, so that I can seek a decisive fleet engagement?” Knowing the personalities of Turner and ^ith, the answer probably would have been yes.
Panese admirals thought alike.
Spruance assumed Ozawa would split his forces and
Battle of the Philippine Sea 79
The most ironical aspect of the battle is that Vuance thought he could read the mind of the Japa- admiral and made his decisions on that basis. But tlnie and again Spruance was wrong in analyzing his opponent’s intentions. Whereas the Japanese admiral, Mburo Ozawa, knew he would be fighting Spruance, he correctly predicted both Spruance’s state of J^nd and his intentions. Spruance did not know ?awa was in command. Perhaps he assumed most
attack Turner’s transports. Ozawa did just the opposite: he concentrated his force in order to attack the American carriers. On the other hand, Ozawa assumed that Spruance, with his known caution, would remain near Saipan, thus allowing Ozawa to launch long-range air strikes without endangering the Japanese carriers. Although Ozawa had only 9 carriers as opposed to the 15 of Task Force 58, he counted upon help from Japanese land-based aircraft at Guam, Rota, and Yap. Ozawa’s plan had two fatal flaws: his ill-trained pilots were devastated by Mitscher’s fighter planes, and Mitscher had eliminated much of the land-based air forces before Ozawa arrived.
Spruance was lucky, and Ozawa was unlucky.
The Japanese suffered irreplaceable losses: 476 planes and 445 aviators. The Americans lost 130 planes and 43 aviators. American submarines sank two enemy carriers on the 19th, and Mitscher’s aviators sank a third and damaged two others during the dusk attack on the 20th. Although six Japanese carriers survived to steam another day, their overwhelming loss of planes and aviators emasculated their fighting strength for the remainder of the war. The Japanese carrier navy remained afloat but impotent.
The battle had many other long-range effects. The Japanese correctly assumed that in future battles the Americans would go hell-for-leather toward any Japanese carriers that threatened American amphibious operations. Thus during the Battle of Leyte Gulf, impetuous Halsey charged off after a decoy carrier force devoid of aircraft, exposing the transports off the Leyte beaches to a marauding Japanese surface force that had sneaked behind Halsey.
Spruance’s failure to meet the enemy fleet in decisive action would forever haunt him, and his postwar letters reflected his disappointment. "As a matter of tactics,” he wrote to historian Morison, "I think that going out after the Japanese and knocking their carriers out would have been much better and more satisfactory than waiting for them to attack us; but we were at the start of a very important and large amphibious operation and we could not afford to gamble and place it in jeopardy.”
To his death, Spruance clung to his belief that Turner’s transports were needed off the Saipan beaches during the Battle of the Philippine Sea.
Commander Buel! is a 1958 graduate of the U. S. Naval Academy and has served at sea in five destroyers. A graduate of both the Naval Postgraduate School and the Naval War College, he recently completed a year of independent study and research in the history of 20th-century naval warfare while participating in the Professional Development Program. He concurrently wrote a biography of the late Admiral Raymond A. Spruance, from which this article is excerpted. Commander Buell now commands USS Joseph Hewes (DE 1078).