A sophisticated reader would reject as absurd a work of fiction the plot of which hinged on circumstances and events similar to those surrounding the Battle of Midway. He doubtless would dismiss the story as too contrived, too bizarre to have ever happened. Yet, of course, it did happen. Can it have been a quarter of a century ago?
Midway atoll is a speck of coral barely jutting out of the blue Pacific some 1,300 miles west-northwest of Pearl Harbor. Except for smaller Kure Island some 60 miles beyond, Midway is the final link in the sprawling Hawaiian chain. Its essential parts are few, consisting of two tiny islands, Sand and Eastern, enclosed in a forbidding reef.
Two considerations aroused Japanese interest in this remote piece of real estate. First, Japanese strategists calculated that if the "Sentry of Hawaii," as Midway was known, were threatened, those ships which had escaped the Pearl Harbor catastrophe—particularly the aircraft carriers—would be drawn to her defense, only to be crushed in a showdown battle. Second, Midway itself would strengthen Japan's eastern defense perimeter and would serve as a base from which aircraft and submarines could more easily detect U. S. ship movements.
Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, Commander-in-Chief of the Japanese Combined Fleet, was in over-all command of the Japanese forces which participated in the Midway engagement. His intricate plan called for the deployment of some 200 ships, divided mainly among four distinct operating forces. A Northern Force of two light carriers accompanied by cruisers and destroyers was to feint at Dutch Harbor in the Aleutians on 3 June 1942, with the purpose of drawing a retaliatory fleet from Pearl Harbor temporarily in that direction. The following day, and hundreds of miles southward, Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo's First Carrier Striking Force, centered around the carriers Akagi, Kaga, Soryu, and Hiryu, was to approach Midway from the northwest and neutralize its defenses through air attacks. On 5 June, an Invasion Force, approaching Midway from the southwest, was to invade and occupy Midway. By 6 June, Admiral Yamamoto's Main Force of large battleships and heavy cruisers was to arrive in the Midway vicinity. Yamamoto speculated that the American fleet, now having recovered from the Dutch Harbor deception, would make a belated attempt to oppose the invasion, only to be surrounded by the various Japanese forces and be utterly destroyed.
Late in May 1942, the four major Japanese components got underway. The 3 June feint at Dutch Harbor was conducted on schedule and, by early 4 June, Nagumo's carrier force arrived at its appointed position, 240 miles northwest of Midway. Although Nagumo was certain that the element of surprise was in his favor, it was not. Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander-in-Chief of the U. S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, had known of the approximate date and location of the invasion since May. U. S. Army and Navy crypto-analysts, having broken the Japanese diplomatic and naval codes in a project appropriately named "Magic," had been supplying an abundance of information about Japanese plans from intercepted messages in code.
Foreknowledge of the invasion did not lessen Nimitz's mammoth task of providing the necessary fleet and island defenses to oppose the powerful naval force which would challenge Midway. Midway got its additional men, planes, and armament, but unfortunately, of the 141 aircraft which eventually filled the airstrips on Eastern Island, many were obsolete models. The F2A-3 Buffalo, a fighter of 1939 vintage, was sardonically dubbed the "flying coffin," while the no more modern SB2U-3 Vindicator, a dive bomber, was tagged the "vibrator" and "wind indicator." These older aircraft were augmented by 16 Dauntless SBD-2 dive bombers, seven F4F-3 Wildcat fighters, six TBF Avenger torpedo planes, four B-26 Marauder medium bombers, and about 27 PBY Catalinas and Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses.
Fleet opposition of the Japanese invasion fell to the carriers Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown—the only available "flattops" in the Pacific at that time—eight cruisers, and 17 destroyers. Only the Enterprise and the Hornet were ready for battle. The Yorktown, suffering from damage and losses sustained in the Battle of the Coral Sea, would fight at Midway with only temporary repairs and minimal personnel replacements.
The American fleet was divided into two task forces. Task Force 17, centered around the Yorktown, was under the command of Rear Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, a veteran of the Coral Sea engagement, while Task Force 16, centered around Hornet and Enterprise, was under the command of Rear Admiral Raymond A. Spruance. The latter was the personal choice of Admiral William F. Halsey when an acute skin infection prevented his own participation. Fletcher, the senior of the two flag officers, was appointed Officer in Tactical Command of the composite force. Task Forces 16 and 17 left Pearl Harbor on different days toward the end of May, but by the evening of 3 June, they were steaming together some 300 miles northe'ast of Midway. Admiral Nagumo's Striking Force was then only 400 miles west of Fletcher and Spruance.
On board his flagship the Akagi, Admiral Nagumo pondered the task before him. Anxiety ran high as the hour of battle drew near. A sailor on the 4 June mid-watch thought he sighted planes weaving in and out of the clouds, and the Akagi crew was ordered to battle stations. But the report proved false, and the lookouts were admonished not to mistake "…stars for moving lights due to the motion of the ship."
In retrospect, this innocuous incident aboard Akagi, would to some, be an omen of the crises then in the making. The Dutch Harbor feint had failed to produce the expected reaction; instead, the Pacific Fleet lurked nearby. And Admiral Nagumo was unaware of either the failure of the diversion or the closeness of the enemy fleet.
Still another thread of the delicately fashioned Japanese fabric had been snagged by unforeseeable circumstances. Overhaul repairs had delayed the departure of 15 submarines which were to patrol the most likely routes the American fleet would take out of Pearl Harbor to oppose the Dutch Harbor attack. Consequently, they reached their appointed stations two days late. A more punctual arrival might have resulted in their intercepting part of the U. S. fleet. Instead, the Japanese submarines were to maintain a constant vigil throughout the battle for an enemy who had already passed them by.
At 2:45 a.m., 4 June, loudspeakers on board Nagumo's carriers barked the order which brought air crews scrambling from their bunks to prepare for the dawn air assaults against Midway. Two hours later, Lieutenant Joichi Tomonaga, the Hiryu's air officer, was leading 108 aircraft on a southeastward course toward Midway, 240 miles away. Just before the launching, Admiral Nagumo estimated the situation: "The enemy is not yet aware of our plan, and he has not yet detected our task force. There is no evidence of an enemy task force in our vicinity."
Both the Striking Force and its attacking aircraft were sighted by Midway patrol planes shortly before 6 a.m. The reports of enemy contact produced instinctive reactions among the people on Midway. Soon 20 Buffaloes and six Wildcats were hurrying northwestward to intercept the Japanese planes, but the American fighters—especially the sluggish Buffaloes—were no match for the Zeroes which provided protection for the bombers. Just ten American fighters returned after the raid, and of these only two were fit for further combat.
Although widespread damage was inflicted upon installations on Sand and Eastern Islands, total destruction of Midway's defenses was not achieved in the raid. Consequently, at 7 a.m., Lieutenant Tomonaga radioed the following message to Nagumo: "There is need for a second attack wave."
This simple message, would set off a chain of events which would prove disastrous for the Imperial Striking Force.
When the report of contact with the Striking Force reached Midway shortly before 6 a.m., not only the 26 fighters had taken off.
Soon six TBF torpedo planes and four B-26 medium bombers—each carrying a torpedo—and 27 dive bombers were on a course to the enemy ships. The dive bomber contingent consisted of 16 SBDs and 11 of the old Vindicators. Additionally, 14 B-17s which had departed at dawn to bomb the Invasion Force were diverted to the Striking Force.
Shortly before 7 a.m. and continuously for more than an hour, the Striking Force defended itself against four waves of attacking Midway aircraft. But the deadly Zeroes in Nagumo's combat air patrol and the intense shipboard fire proved too much for these aircraft, conspicuously naked of fighter protection. Only the high-flying B-17s escaped unscathed, while two B-26s, five TBFs, eight SBDs, and two Vindicators were destroyed. And, to compound the agony of the losses, none of the missiles released by any of the American planes found a Japanese target.
Meanwhile, Admiral Nagumo had been considering Tomonaga's 7 a.m. recommendation for a second Midway strike. Another 108 planes had been assembled on his flight decks for use in the event of the "unlikely" appearance of an American fleet. Nagumo wondered whether he should risk sending these reserve aircraft against Midway. As he reflected upon the problem, the first wave of Midway planes—the TBFs and B-26s carrying torpedoes—came skimming over the water toward the Japanese formation. Although successfully repelled, the foray convinced Nagumo that the destruction of Midway's air power had not been achieved. This was all the assurance he needed that a second attack against Midway was required.
Therefore, at 7:15 a.m., Nagumo issued the following order: "Planes in second attack wave stand by to carry out attack today. Reequip yourself with bombs." The order necessitated having those bombers armed with torpedoes—36 standing on the Akagi and the Kaga—rearmed with bombs. Accordingly, crews on the Akagi and the Kaga began pushing the bombers to the elevators, where they were lowered to the hangar deck once again for the arduous task of exchanging torpedoes for bombs.
Shortly before sunrise, Nagumo had sent patrol planes to search for a possible American fleet in an area northeast to south of the Striking Force. Although no American ships were expected, the launching of patrol planes was a routine precaution. All but one of these departed at 4: 30 a.m. as scheduled. But, due to catapult problems on the heavy cruiser Tone, one of the cruiser's two seaplanes was not launched until 5 a.m.—a half-hour late.
At 7:20 a.m., the pilot of the tardy plane from the Tone sighted American ships near the outer perimeter of his search area. He immediately reported contact with "enemy surface ships," giving their course and bearing. The time of the message was 7: 28 a.m.
Nagumo and his staff were stunned by the contact report. Were there any carriers in the enemy formation? The search plane's message was vague. At 7: 47 a.m. the order was flashed to the Tone's plane: "Ascertain ship types, and maintain contact."
The rearming of the Akagi's and Kaga's planes with bombs, having proceeded undisturbed since 7:15 a.m., was about half completed. Realizing now that a second attack against Midway was of secondary importance to destroying the American fleet, Nagumo called a halt to the exchange of torpedoes for bombs and waited for further information from the Tone's plane.
Subsequent reports from the seaplane suggested that the U. S. force contained at least one carrier; therefore, Nagumo calculated that the enemy fleet posed too great a threat to postpone its destruction until Midway's defenses were neutralized. Two considerations, however, prompted him to conclude that the most effective assault against the U. S. Fleet could not be conducted immediately. First, half of the Akagi's and Kaga's bombers were now rearmed with bombs—a weapon considered inferior to torpedoes against ships. Second, the fighters had been expending ammunition and fuel against Midway aircraft for over an hour, and were not ready to accompany the bombers.
Nagumo decided that he would first clear his flight decks in order to recover the planes returning from the Midway raid, and then retire temporarily northward to prepare for a mass attack against the American fleet. In conjunction with this plan, Nagumo ordered that those bombers formerly containing torpedoes, but now carrying bombs, be armed again with torpedoes.
As Admiral Nagumo reflected upon the events which had thus far occurred that morning, he must have been angry. If there had been no catapult problems on the Tone, her search plane would probably have sighted the American fleet a half-hour earlier. The report of contact would have preceded Tomonaga's 7 a.m. message and therefore the muddled exchange of aircraft ordnance would have been avoided. Accordingly, all of Nagumo's bombers, sitting in their original flight deck positions, could have been launched at once against Fletcher and Spruance.
Instead, shortly before 9 a.m., after all aircraft had been recovered, the Striking Force turned northward to prepare for an engagement which by then might have been over. In the hangar deck areas of the Akagi and the Kaga, crews working feverishly to arm the bombers again with torpedoes did not have time to lower the dislodged bombs to the magazines. They were simply stacking the bombs in the open.
Dawn had begun to break about 4 a.m. on 4 June. Shortly before 5 a.m., the first rays of the sun stretched forward from the eastern horizon and danced off the steel hulls of the ships in Task Forces 16 and 17. Ten Yorktown scout planes, launched just before sunrise to locate the Japanese Striking Force, disappeared in the distance. Nagumo was then 215 miles west of the American fleet.
Fletcher and Spruance intercepted the message from the Midway patrol plane which just before 6 a.m. announced contact with the Striking Force. Having to recover his own search planes, Fletcher was not then ready to alter course toward the enemy. He freed Spruance to engage the Japanese independently, promising to follow once his aircraft were again safely aboard. Speeding southward with Task Force 16, Spruance surmised that he must conduct an air strike against the enemy before Nagumo had an opportunity to bomb Midway a second time.
Shortly before 8 a. m., torpedo planes, dive bombers, and fighters from the Hornet and the Enterprise—six squadrons in all—were winging toward Nagumo's estimated position. But the Striking Force had altered its course northward shortly before 9 a.m., and an open sea taunted each squadron as it arrived at the point of anticipated contact with the enemy.
The Hornet's dive bombers and fighter squadrons gambled that the Japanese had turned southward and the subsequent search in that direction resulted in their missing the enemy entirely.
The 15 TBD Devastators of the Hornet's Torpedo Squadron 8 were successful in locating the Striking Force but that was to be the extent of their success on this terrible day. Torpedo 8 sighted Naguffio's ships about 9:25 a.m. and immediately took aim on the primary target, the carriers in the center of the formation of battleships, cruisers, and destroyers. Lumbering over the water's edge in the level and even flight required for an efficient torpedo launch, the Devastators were easy prey for the swarm of Zeroes that intercepted their approach. Those few planes which escaped the deadly enemy fighters quickly fell victim to Nagumo's fierce shipboard fire. Plane after plane spouted fire and smoke, crashed hard on the water, and disappeared. All 15 planes were destroyed and not a single torpedo hit was obtained.
No sooner had the Torpedo 8 attack been repelled when, just after 9:30 a.m., the 14 Devastators of the Enterprise's Torpedo Squadron 6 arrived on the scene. Although the pilots bore in determinedly toward the Striking Force, the hopelessly vulnerable Devastators were quickly reduced to four, and the few torpedoes released never found their target.
A regrettable quirk of fate may have contributed to the appalling toll exacted from Torpedo Squadrons 6 and 8. The Enterprise's Fighting Squadron 6 was to have accompanied Torpedo 6 to battle. Upon contact with enemy fighters, Torpedo 6 was to have radioed a prearranged signal which would bring the ten Wildcats of Fighting 6 sweeping down on any intercepting Zeroes. Unfortunately, on take-off, Fighting 6 had mistakenly attached itself to Torpedo 8—a plausible error since the aircraft of Torpedo 6 and Torpedo 8 were identical in type and very similar in number.
About the time Torpedo 8 was nearing the Striking Force, clouds began to obliterate the visual contact of Fighting 6 with the Hornet aircraft. But the Wildcats continued to circle overhead waiting for the signal which, of course, never came. As a result, Fighting 6 orbited uselessly for 30 minutes, and when gas finally ran low, returned to the Enterprise without having fired a shot.
Admiral Fletcher, having fin ally recovered his search planes, and now possessing more exact information about the Striking Force's whereabouts, at last launched part of the Yorktown air group of torpedo planes, dive bombers, and fighters. Twelve Devastators of the Yorktown's Torpedo 3 reached the Striking Force a bout 10 a.m., just as the remnants of Torpedo 6 were scurrying off into the distance. Torpedo 3 pressed its attack while Fighting 3 struggled to overcome three-to-one odds against Nagumo's Zeroes. Seven Devastators were shot down during their approach to the target, and, although five planes succeeded in launching torpedoes, only two managed to pull away safely. Ten Devastators were eliminated, but, once again, there had been no hits.
The last of the carrier plane torpedo attacks ended at 10:15 a.m. Exultant Japanese crews had cheered wildly while witnessing the one-sided spectacle of the previous 50 minutes. They had good reason to be jubilant, for the performance of the Striking Force that morning against both Midway and carrier aircraft had been nothing short of sensational. Now Nagumo was prepared to strike back. The flight decks of his unscathed carriers were filled with fully armed and fueled aircraft for an immediate attack against Fletcher and Spruance.
Earlier that morning, while Midway-based aircraft were still providing Nagumo with some uneasy moments, the U. S. submarine Nautilus—one of 12 boats assigned to patrol Midway's approaches—came to periscope depth right in the center of the Striking Force. She hurried off one ineffectual torpedo shot before plunging to deeper waters. The inevitable depth charge attack followed. When Nagumo turned northward after 9 a.m. a lone destroyer, the Arashi, was left behind to keep up the attack on the U. S. submarine. After about 30 minutes the Arashi gave up the futile chase and hurried northward to overtake the Striking Force.
Meanwhile, the Enterprise's dive bomber squadron, the only one of the six squadrons launched by Spruance against Nagumo which was not yet accounted for, had been conducting a widespread search for Nagumo's ships. After having searched an extended area around Nagumo's position as reported at 6 a.m., the 37 SBDs of Bombing 6 were attracted suddenly by what appeared to be a tiny vessel far off to their right. Closer inspection identified the solitary ship as a Japanese destroyer—she was the Arashi hurrying to rejoin the Striking Force. With directions so obligingly provided, the mystery of the Striking Force's whereabouts was soon solved. At 10:05 a.m., Bombing 6 finally sighted the Japanese ships. At that very moment, Bombing 3's 17 SBDs, which accompanied Fighting 3 and the luckless Torpedo 3 from the Yorktown, were approaching the enemy formation from another direction.
Several factors aided an undetected approach by the dive bombers. At 20,000 feet, they were barely visible above a scattered cloud formation. But equally relevant was the fact that Nagumo's lookouts were distracted by the spectacular defense being put up against the American torpedo planes. Additionally, with the Zeroes drawn to the water's edge to repel the torpedo plane attacks, the SBDs encountered no fighter opposition at their high altitude.
If the dive bombers were imperceptible to the Japanese lookouts, quite the opposite was true of Nagumo's ships as viewed by the pilots from overhead. The flight deck of each carrier, painted yellow, stood out sharply against the dark blue sea water. The bow or the stern of each flight deck contained the orange circular symbol of the rising sun. The disc, about 50 feet in diameter, was enclosed in a five-foot band of white. One pilot, convinced that the colorful spectacle sharpened his perception, later stated: "I saw the huge orange disc of the rising sun painted on the vessel's clean, yellow flight deck…It seemed as though they'd painted a bull's eye there for me to aim at…I screamed down from several thousand feet, hypnotized by that big orange blob."
Nagumo's flight decks were packed with fully armed and fueled aircraft. At 10:20 a.m., the Admiral gave the order to commence launching when ready. Four minutes later the first of the Akagi's planes roared down the flight deck. At that very moment, one of the Akagi's crew screamed: "Hell-divers!" But it was too late. Bombs from American Dauntless dive bombers were already falling on three carriers.
Bombing 6 selected the Akagi and the Kaga for attack, while by a stroke of luck, Bombing 3 picked out a third carrier, the Soryu. The Enterprise aircraft carrying 1,000-pound bombs were directed to the Akagi and those carrying one 500-pounder and two 100-pounders, to the Kaga. Fate intervened as a few SBDs carrying the heavier missiles fortuitously took aim on the Kaga. Consequently, both Japanese carriers received a fairly equal share of the half-ton bombs.
Two bombs found their mark on the Akagi. According to Nagumo, neither hit was fatal in itself. But as the fire spread among the aircraft crammed together on the flight deck, their torpedoes began to explode, making firefighting virtually impossible. The inferno spread rapidly to parts of the hangar deck and detonated the bombs which had been carelessly stacked in the open a few hours before. By evening, it was obvious the ship could not be saved. She was therefore abandoned and early the next morning scuttled with torpedoes.
The Kaga was no more fortunate. Of the four bombs which hit her, one exploded in the vicinity of the bridge, killing all of its occupants. Induced explosions seemed to occur everywhere until fires extended almost the entire length of the carrier. Early that evening the conflagration reached both the forward and after fuel tanks, causing two tremendous explosions which completely destroyed the ship. The Kaga sank immediately.
The Yorktown pilots planted three bombs on the Soryu, two of which fell among the parked planes on the flight deck causing a chain of induced detonations. Further induced explosions occurred in the bomb and torpedo magazines and in the antiaircraft and machine gun ammunition rooms. Fires ultimately engulfed the entire carrier. That evening, only minutes before the Kaga, in a crescendo of explosive claps, the Soryu slid beneath the sea.
The SBD pilots had turned the tide of battle, but the reversal of tactical advantage, unrecognized at first, did not bring an immediate halt to the fighting. Eighteen bombers from the unscathed Hiryu took up the trail of the withdrawing SBDs, followed them to the U. S. fleet, and made three direct hits on the Yorktown. Although the resultant fires were quickly extinguished, two torpedo hits by planes launched from the Hiryu about three hours later caused the Yorktown to take a precarious list to port, and the carrier was abandoned.
The Yorktown, however, refused to sink. The following day she was taken in tow and provided with a destroyer escort. By 6 June, with the destroyer Hammann tied alongside to furnish water to fight fires, pumps for counterflooding, and electricity, it appeared that the Yorktown would surely be saved. Yet, this was not to be. The Japanese submarine I-168, which had been stalking the crippled Yorktown for hours from the waters beyond the destroyer screen, at last found an opportunity to strike. Four torpedoes were fired; one missed, two passed under the Hammann and exploded on the Yorktown, and the fourth struck the Hammann. The helpless destroyer broke in two and sank in three minutes with staggering personnel losses. The Yorktown's new injuries proved fatal. At 6 a.m., 7 June, she finally slid over and sank stern first.
About the time the Yorktown was first being evacuated, in the afternoon of 4 June, 24SBDs departed for a second attack on the Striking Force. On the flight deck of Nagumo's only undamaged carrier, the Hiryu, the remnants of her air group sat fully armed and fueled for a planned twilight attack on Fletcher and Spruance. Incredibly, it was the early morning scene repeating itself.
The SBDs descended on the Hiryu shortly after 5 p.m. Four direct hits soon turned the Hiryu into an inferno as induced explosions among the parked planes caused fires to spread eventually over two-thirds of her length. The Hiryu lingered between life and death for many hours as every effort was made to save her. But further induced explosions were critical. The Hiryu was finally abandoned and early the next morning was scuttled with torpedoes.
Fighting between the Striking Force and the American fleet ended on 4 June. Although Midway and carrier aircraft conducted widespread searches for Nagumo on 5 June, he had by that time withdrawn beyond the search area. Admiral Yamamoto, who was 600 miles west of Nagumo when the Akagi, the Kaga, and the Soryu were hit, at first ordered a general rendezvous of all forces participating in the Midway-Aleutians campaign for the purpose of making a combined thrust against Midway and the American fleet. Then, for some mysterious reason, at 2:55 a.m., 5 June, he called off the Midway operations with the following order: "Occupation of AF (Midway) is cancelled." The cancellation by Yamamoto when he still enjoyed overwhelming superiority in surface ships, including four light carriers from the Invasion and Northern forces, is difficult to justify, and his reasons have never been adequately explained.
As if the events of 4 June had not been sufficiently humiliating to the Japanese, insult was added to injury in one final unhappy incident. Four cruisers from the Invasion Force sent to make a night bombardment of Midway were recalled shortly after midnight when still 90 miles short of the objective. While hurrying away from Midway, the Japanese sighted the American submarine Tambor following them on the surface. An emergency turn was ordered, but the Mogami, the last cruiser in the column, failed to get the signal in time and crashed into the port quarter of the Mikuma, the ship directly in front of her. The Mogami lost 40 feet of her bow and thereafter could make no more than 12 knots speed.
Limping along so close to Midway, the Mogami was practically defenseless against the air attacks that were sure to come with the daylight. Curiously, however, assaults by Midway and carrier aircraft on 5 and 6 June did not succeed in sinking the Mogami. By a strange twist of fate, it was the innocent Mikuma, while magnanimously serving as escort to the injured Mogami, that succumbed to these bombing raids. Ironically enough, the entire mishap occurred because an attempt had been made to evade a submarine that failed to make an attack either before or after the collision.
To say that the Americans were luckier than the Japanese at Midway would indeed be a gross understatement. Yet, fate alone did not determine the results of the engagement. The Pacific Fleet could not have sprung the trap on the Striking Force if the Japanese code had not been broken. There was nothing lucky about "Magic"; it was the end product of superb ingenuity and a great deal of frustrating work. Both German and British cryptoanalysts had tried to break the same code, only to be baffled.
Furthermore, the "miracle" of the Yorktown was a tribute to American resoluteness and stands as a salient example of the unwavering determination to win which typified the American attitude both beforehand during the battle. Although it was estimated that it would take 90 days to repair the damages sustained by the Yorktown at Coral Sea, workmen operating around the clock completed temporary mending in less than 48 hours. Nimitz could easily have excused the injured Yorktown from the forthcoming operation, but he was determined to scrape together everything he had to throw at the Japanese. Since the Yorktown airmen sank the Soryu and assisted in the Hiryu's sinking, who can say what the outcome at Midway might have been without her participation?
In striking contrast to the frantic urgency in the preparation of the Yorktown for battle was the evident confidence shown by the Japanese regarding use of one of their Coral Sea ships, the carrier Zuikaku. Minus any physical damage, the Zuikaku was excused from the Midway campaign simply because of the heavy losses in airmen suffered at Coral Sea. The Yorktown was faced with the identical problem, to say nothing of her damages, but Admiral Nimitz met the situation squarely by augmenting her ragged air group with replacements from two other carriers. The failure to include the Zuikaku in what was defined as a showdown engagement suggests that a certain amount of overconfidence contaminated Japanese planning for the approaching campaign.
The alleged overconfidence is supported by several incidents in the battle itself. "Spirits were high—and why not?" exulted a Japanese aviator, "Every man was convinced that he was about to participate in yet another brilliant victory." A Japanese pilot participating in the Midway air raid rolled his Zero over on its back and flew 50 feet above the ground thumbing his nose at Marine gunners—a spectacular exhibition perhaps, but of dubious value to the raid itself. When Midway Vindicators were attacking the Striking Force, intercepting Zeroes with guns silent did graceful rolls through the Marine formation. One American pilot stated that "…more attention to business might easily have wiped out 11 of the slowest and most obsolete planes ever to be used in war." These examples of glaring exhibitionism are indicative of a carefree mental attitude which was not at all consistent with the seriousness of the task at hand.
The attention to duty and great courage shown by the American airmen played a major part in the victory. If inexperience sometimes detracted from flawless performance, the void was more than filled by unyielding aggressiveness. The heroic manner in which the luckless carrier torpedo pilots pressed their attacks, despite overwhelming opposition, kept Nagumo's defenses so completely occupied that the destructive SBDs were not observed until it was too late.
Marine Captain Richard E. Fleming sacrificed his life by crashing his burning Vindicator on the turret of the Mikuma during a 5 June attack on the cruiser. His heroic act brought the Mikuma her first damage and was instrumental in the eventual destruction of the ship. Fleming became the first Marine aviator of the war to be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.
As the giant Japanese armada, bereft of the Akagi, the Kaga, the Soryu, and the Hiryu, steamed away from Midway, a feeling of emptiness prevailed among the men. An officer in the Invasion Force stated: "We are retreating…It is utterly discouraging…The Marines, who were showing off, have not even the courage to drink beer."
"I went to my station and was trying to refresh myself from sleepiness," a Japanese sailor asserted, "but I was rather shocked when I entered the engine room and saw the compass…I knew then that we were heading for Yokosuka. It was the end of the campaign."
A graduate of Loyola University in 1953, Lieutenant Commander Powers was an instructor at Pre-flight School, Pensacola, from 1953 to 1956, and at the Naval Reserve Officer School, Forest Park, Illinois, from 1959 to 1963. He was Officer-in-Charge, Instructor Training and Leadership School, Service School Command, Great Lakes, from 1964 to 1966. He received his M.A. from De Paul University in 1959, and his Ph.D. from the University of Chicago in 1966. He is now assigned to the Department of English, History, and Government, U. S. Naval Academy.