Return to Midway
Robert D. Ballard and Rick Archbold. Washington, DC: National Geographic Magazine Press, 1999. 197 pp. Photos. Maps. Index. $40.00 ($36.00).
Reviewed by Donald M. Goldstein
No plot is so dear to the American heart as that of the victorious underdog. From the U.S. victory in hockey over the favored Soviets in 1980, to the recent come-from-behind victory of the U.S. Ryder Cup golf team, the underdog stirs the American consciousness. The Battle of Midway provides one of the few occasions in U.S. military history when the United States was the underdog and emerged victorious.
For six months after Pearl Harbor, Japan ran roughshod over the Allied forces in the Pacific. Only a greatly reduced U.S. Navy stood in Japan's way. The Battle of Midway was to be the opening salvo of Japan's final drive for domination, which included the isolation of Australia at one extreme and the elimination of the U.S. fleet and the capture of Midway Island at the other. Japan had been humiliated in April 1942 by Colonel Jimmy Doolittle's famous raid on Tokyo from the aircraft carrier Hornet (CV-8), and Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto wanted to make sure that this never would happen again. In late May 1942, Yamamoto sent forth an enormous combat-seasoned fleet of 88 surface ships to fight what he envisioned as the all-out battle for supremacy.
Events, however, did not conform to the pattern of earlier Japanese victories. Forewarned through superior crypanalysis and radio intelligence, U.S. forces (inferior numerically, but ably led and manned) sped past Midway and were waiting on the enemy's flank. Although the result was not a foregone conclusion and the Japanese task force fought skillfully and bravely at Midway, superb command decisions, precision dive-bombing, and a punch or two of luck all came together. When the battle ended, Japan had lost four carriers (the Akagi, Kaga, Hir'vu, and Soryu), the cruiser Mikuma, and more than 300 aircraft. The United States had lost the carrier Yorktown (CV-5) and the destroyer Hammann (DD-412). Although more than three years of hard fighting remained. Midway generally is considered the turning point of the Pacific War. The United States had captured the initiative for good.
This book is the story of a return to the scene of this famous battle 56 years later by Robert D. Ballard, the underwater explorer, in search of the ships that were sunk at Midway. Accompanied by a group consisting of both Japanese and American veterans of the campaign and a team of deep- sea-exploration experts, the search is chronicled from 2 May to 26 May 1998. Ballard's search was no picnic. The search area was 500 square miles and his targets lay in water more than three miles deep—far deeper than the famous Titanic. After much trouble, including rough waters and equipment failures, the remains of the Yorktown were located on 19 May.
At first glance, this book looks like an excellent coffee table book, but be assured it is more than that. It is an excellent account of the battle and the condition of the Yorktown as it appears 56 years later.
Like Ballard's other books on his discoveries of the Titanic, Lusitania, and Bismarck, this book contains outstanding underwater photographs by Rick Archbold and illustrations by Ken Marschall. The heart of the book is chapter four, which describes the battle in some 50 pages. As each phase of the battle is presented, the four veterans (Bill Surgi, Harry Ferrier, Haruo Yoshino, and Yuji Akamatsu) comment on how they saw it develop. Although other eyewitnesses are quoted, such as Mitsuo Fuchida (the leader of the attack on Pearl Harbor who was sick at Midway and could not participate) and Ensign George Gay (the sole survivor of Torpedo Squadron 8, who had watched the battle from the water after he was shot down), there are no footnotes. This is a weakness of the book.
While there is some suspense in the search for the Yorktown, including the breakdown of the advanced tethered vehicle, Ballard's diary itself is unsatisfactory because of its lack of depth. Its entries are very short. One does, however, pick up the immense disappointment of the crew of the expedition because they were not able to find the Japanese carriers.
In short—while accurate—this is not a definitive history of the battle. It lacks depth, breadth, and footnoting, but it does present an adequate description of what happened in June 1942. The book's greatest value is the remarkable photography and paintings, and the author's feelings as he tries to find what he calls "a needle in a haystack." It is a coffee table book well worth buying and reading.
Future Warfare
Major General Robert H. Scales, Jr. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College, 1999. 213 pp. Illus. Charts. Index. This publication can be received free of charge by calling (717) 245-4133.
Reviewed by Stephen R. Woodall
Major General Robert Scales has performed a valuable service for students of the future of warfare. In collecting and publishing 12 essays he has written over the past three years on the future of warfare, he has provided considerable food for thought. The anthology is based on the author's experience with the investigation of the "Army After Next," an effort sponsored by the Chief of Staff of the Army to gaze into the distant future and examine the implications of warfare in the years beyond 2010.
The essays describe a future of warfare that is traditional in many important ways. For example, even with the continued advance of technologies that enable war fighting, war in the future will remain a contest of human wills. Wars will continue to be instruments of politics, and means will continue to equate to ends. Learning from mistakes of the past will continue to have value. As we learn from our mistakes, so will our future enemies. And the level of training, professional maturity, and leadership qualities of soldiers will continue to be important to success on the battlefield.
With regard to the growing importance of applying technology to improve our battlespace knowledge and achieve information dominance (as emphasized in such seminal publications as "Joint Vision 20 10"), the author offers a balanced view. In fact, he describes the Information Age as a "neutral ally" that may in fact "favor the competition more than it favors Western militaries, because potential enemies will be able to tailor new technologies to their particular way of war without becoming information dependent." Although he acknowledges the value of secure, networked communications to success on future battlefields, he never mentions the increasingly popular concept of network-centric warfare or knowledge superiority.
Beyond the recognition of things in warfare that will endure, the essays offer a professional (albeit Army-centric) view of the things that will change in the future. The author views information as a double-edged sword: unless and until we can control with precision the flow of required information to commanders on the battlefield, we still will be at risk of inundating decision makers with unnecessary, distracting information. Scales emphasizes the future importance of strategic velocity—the ability to deploy hybrid, tailored maneuver forces rapidly that can be delivered anywhere in the world (in days). These forces must be able to hold the new high ground of space and airborne sensors. To take advantage of precision fires requires a precise knowledge of enemy forces. The command and logistics tails will be cut to the minimum, "splitting" many combat-support functions that limit mobility and the speed of maneuver beyond the immediate battle area.
If the book has a shortcoming, it is in its near-silence on the increasing interdependence of the various services and its part in the success of U.S. military operations, from preparation of the battlespace to joint execution of combat operations.
The Terrible Hours: The Man Behind the Greatest Submarine Rescue in History
Peter Maas. New York: Harper Collins, 1999. 259 pp. $25.00 ($22.50).
Reviewed by Commander Darlene Iskra, U.S. Navy
They say that truth is stranger than fiction. In the case of Peter Maas's new book, truth definitely is more exciting than fiction. Although touted as a biography, this book primarily is about the rescue and subsequent salvage of the downed submarine Squalus (SS-192) in 1939. Even though we know the ending of the story, this book is a page-turner. The hero of the story is, of course, Charles "Swede" Momsen, the inventor of the Momsen lung and the primary person responsible for the development of the submarine rescue chamber (SRC) that was used in the rescue.
In the early days of submarine development, the possibility of a downed submarine was considered an "acceptable risk." After several submarines were lost in fairly shallow water where rescue could have been successful if the technology had been available, Lieutenant Commander Momsen, a submariner himself, came up with the initial idea for the SRC. At the time, however, the Navy criticized the idea as infeasible and rejected the proposal. The public outcry that ensued when the S-4 (SS-109) went down in 1927 in 110 feet of water spurred Momsen to action. With the help of some volunteers at the Bureau of Construction and Repair where he worked, he developed the "lung" that now bears his name, a device through which men trapped in a submarine could breathe as they escaped and rose to the surface. With the success of this device, Momsen was able to resuscitate the old SRC plans. By 1939, the SRCs had been developed but never used on an actual rescue. The Squalus would be the first.
Although the rescue of the 33 survivors was not free of problems, it went remarkably smoothly, and all were safe after 39 hours down. Even more exciting and dangerous, however, was the salvage of the ship itself. It was imperative to discover the cause of the sinking, because new submarines of that class still were being built. The salvage took approximately 110 days, but what was accomplished in that time was a feat of courage, strength, skill, and perseverance. The Squalus was sitting on the bottom at 243 feet. At that depth, divers breathing air are invariably overcome by nitrogen narcosis, a potentially dangerous condition that results in loss of concentration, confusion, and ability to function properly. A helium-oxygen mixture for diving in deeper water was just being developed, and by the summer of 1939 it was ready for testing. As it turned out, the Squalus was the test platform for this as well. Every salvage job has its quirks, because each ship will have different problems that have to be worked out. A plan that sounds good on the surface will have to be revised several times. Something that takes two minutes on the surface can, and does, take several hours and numerous dives to the bottom. Equipment breaks, and changes in the list and trim of the ship can cause potential calamities. And the weather, of course, always is a concern.
The remainder of the book describes the rest of Momsen's naval career. During World War II, Momsen continued to serve the Navy with his innovative ideas, and finally retired in 1955 as a vice admiral. The most disappointing part about the book was its lack of pictures and diagrams. It would have been helpful to illustrate the extent of the effort involved, what the diving gear, SRC, and salvage pontoons looked like, how the SRC mated to the submarine, and a sketch on how the pontoons were rigged. A photo of Momsen would have been nice, too. All in all, though, it was a great read—highly recommended for salvors, divers, and everyone who ever went down to the sea in ships.