Operation Watch Tower—the battle for Guadalcanal fought between August 1942 and February 1943—is a case study of searing courage, chaos, fog, friction, chance, and luck in war. It also underscores the failure of senior U.S. commanders in peacetime to prepare adequately for war.
The praise accorded naval innovation in the interwar years is strategically and tactically overrated. Neither the Naval War College nor the annual fleet battle problems uncovered critical operational, tactical, and technical deficiencies of the Navy.
If they had, senior naval officers would have recognized how vital the new radar technology would prove to be and how to employ it effectively. Those leaders would have learned before the war that the Mark 14 and 15 torpedoes did not work and that torpedoes should have been the main armament for destroyers, rather than 5-inch guns. Commanders would have devised effective tactics, communications, and signals for prevailing in battle (for example, “roger” was the one-word signal to open fire—even though it was regularly used in “roger, out,” meaning “I understand”).
Although amphibious operations were developed during the interwar years, much of what was learned then was not applied to the first Guadalcanal landings because of the urgency in mounting the invasion. Combat loading was rushed and haphazard. Logistics were insufficient. Both the Navy and Marine Corps lacked knowledge of Japanese strategy, tactics, and training, especially regarding night combat skills and Guadalcanal’s savage conditions.
Thus, senior naval commanders often were ill-prepared for war at sea, and seniority led to placing less battle-experienced leaders in command—with tragic consequences.
Vice Admiral Robert Ghormley, the first overall commander, was based in Noumea, 1,600 miles from Guadalcanal. Until ordered by the Pacific Fleet commander-in-chief, Admiral Chester Nimitz, Ghormley—a close friend of Nimitz who rarely ventured from his flagship, the transport USS Argonne (AS-10)—had not visited Guadalcanal to meet Marine Major General Alexander Vandegrift to get a firsthand impression of the battle.
Even with radar, dozens of U.S. and Japanese warships—from battleships to PT boats—clashed and intermingled in fierce night battles, often after detecting the enemy at short range. The Navy lost four of the six major sea battles in part because seniority had triumphed over combat experience in choosing officers to command surface forces. Fear of losing carriers imbued caution in both sides, reinforced by Vice Admiral William Halsey’s aggressive order that had led to the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands, in which the USS Hornet (CV-8) was sunk and the Enterprise (CV-6) nearly lost.
Of the major surface-ship engagements, Savo Island in August 1942; the night action of 13–14 November in which Admirals Dan Callaghan and Norman Scott were killed (the latter by friendly fire); and Tassafaronga all were disasters. Scott won at Cape Esperance in October, and Vice Admiral Willis Lee earned the Navy Cross near Savo Island the night after the deaths of Callaghan and Scott. The extraordinary courage and valor of naval officers and sailors, who in many cases had been outfought and outgunned by the Japanese, carried the day.
Keeping Henderson Field and satellite bases Fighters 1 and 2 operational proved decisive for U.S. naval forces in eventually defeating a determined Japanese enemy. Logistics and distance proved greater handicaps for the Japanese Navy. Because of repeated failures of the “Tokyo Express” to resupply Guadalcanal, the largest Japanese Army losses ashore resulted from disease and starvation caused by logistical disruptions.
Losses on both sides were significant: approximately 1,600 U.S. Marines and 5,100 sailors killed in action (KIA); 20,000 Japanese soldiers and 4,000 sailors KIA; 28 major U.S. Navy combatants and 30 Japanese ships lost; and 615 U.S. and 683 Japanese aircraft destroyed.
As for the rationale behind Watch Tower, Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Ernest King wrongly believed that the Japanese occupation of the islands of Guadalcanal, Florida, and Tulagi represented a direct danger to Australia. Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto’s actual priority was Port Moresby in New Guinea. King also wanted to use Guadalcanal as a counterweight to the Allies’ “Europe first” strategy. Guadalcanal became the real turning point in the Pacific war because of the losses inflicted on Japan, particularly pilots.
Debate over the vulnerability and survivability of land-based and carrier- based aviation continues. Even when bombarded by 14-inch guns on Japanese battleships, Henderson Field never closed. Of course, F4F, TBF, and Dauntless aircraft did not need lengthy, hardened runways for takeoffs and landings, so craters and other damage could be quickly filled in. Deploying carrier aircraft ashore to bolster forces is a tactic that could be repeated today if and only if the shore facility had sufficient defensive and maintenance capacity to keep the aircraft operational.
The first carrier group commander, Vice Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, was criticized for erring on the side of caution in ensuring his ships were refueled, sending them hundreds of miles to Espiritu Santo. Today, even with nuclear power, carriers remain limited in the amount of aviation fuel and weapons they carry. After Guadalcanal, the Navy never faced refueling and rearming constraints. But that could change in the next conflict. For two decades, the People’s Liberation Army Navy has considered U.S. logistics as a potential weakness to be exploited, as does the Russian military.
It was not until mid-to-late 1943 that the Navy assimilated these experiences. With the arsenal of democracy spewing out weapons of war at an extraordinary pace, along with people to operate them, the United States overwhelmed the enemy. By the end of the war, the Navy surged to more than 6,000 ships and nearly 100 aircraft carriers of all sizes.
Today, the Guadalcanal campaign raises several questions:
- Given the U.S. failure to understand how to employ radar or understand Japanese strategy, tactics, and weapons at Guadalcanal, how well does today’s Navy understand Chinese and Russian strategy, tactics, and operational capacity and competence? How well prepared is it to counter both?
- Do the Pentagon and the Navy understand “information warfare” and the Russian capability for electromagnetic blitzkrieg?
- How well does the fleet know how to fight without sensors, communications, and command and control—and will it be able to operate effectively in conditions like those at Guadalcanal, when without control of the air, it could not sustain control of the sea?
- Is the U.S. command structure better prepared and organized than at Guadalcanal for peer-versus-peer conflict in an environment in which kinetic force may be secondary to non-kinetic means of disruption?
- Given the huge cost of ships and aircraft—$12 to 15 billion for a CVN and $90 million for an F-35—how aggressive or willing should commanders be to risk these forces? And how does the United States deal with repair of battle damage and replacement of battle losses?
- Finally, what should the Guadalcanal Campaign mean for strategic thinking and the National Defense Strategy?
Envisage it is 0300, and general quarters sounds. How well are naval forces prepared for an information warfare blitzkrieg? Cyber and electromagnetic attacks could defeat U.S. sensors and electronics without firing a shot. GPS and communications could be jammed or lost. An enemy could strike first with manned and unmanned systems, hyper-sonic missiles, swarms of drones, or even 500-knot torpedoes. And assumptions about uncontested and relatively casualty-free operations would play to an enemy’s advantage.
As the Navy failed to appreciate radar, has it taken to heart the Secretary of the Navy’s March cyber review that describes the threat as “existential” to naval forces? We cannot take for granted past assumptions about how U.S. forces are organized and prepared. Procedures for allowing mid-deployment staff turnovers or failure to prepare commanders adequately before assuming command should be reexamined.
Even the need for setting general quarters in a condition of hyperwar, when minutes—or seconds—could make the difference between victory and defeat, may have to be offset by other manning choices. Yet how often do we evaluate or discuss these issues and questions?
Finally, as the Vietnamese taught us 50 years ago, winning every battle does not mean winning the war. We cannot delude ourselves into believing U.S. innovation and strategic thinking are infallible. Hypotheses and conclusions must be ruthlessly challenged in peacetime in a crucible as close to war as possible. Humility must be in evidence no matter how aggressive our fighting instincts may be. And the only foolish question is the one not asked. Otherwise, a future Guadalcanal may be one in which the United States does not prevail.