Nagumo and Kusaka stood on Akagi’s bridge peering into the sky. At last, at about 1010, “black points appeared far to the south one after another”—the first wave’s aircraft were returning, some in formation, some singly. Soon the flight docks of all six carriers burst into life as each prepared to land its planes.1
Throughout the morning the weather had steadily worsened. Now high seas and tricky winds made landings difficult. Deck crews had to push a few badly damaged craft into the sea to clear the landing area for fuel-short planes circling impatiently overhead.2
Ema landed his dive bomber aboard Zuikaku, where his colleagues “went wild with joy when the first reports came in.” Ema was “relieved and glad that he had survived the attack.” But he did not think that all was over, for he believed that the enemy might launch a counterattack. Yet with the morning strike a success, Ema and the rest of the airmen thought the war would go well for Japan. Now at least they had a chance.3
Fuchida’s mind raced with thoughts of a second assault that same afternoon. As his pilot ticked off the miles, Fuchida mentally earmarked for destruction the fuel-tank farms, the vast repair and maintenance facilities, and perhaps a ship or two bypassed that morning for priority targets.4
Meanwhile, all flying officers who recovered aboard Akagi reported at once to Air Officer Masuda. On the flight deck near the bridge, with Murata’s aid, Masuda tabulated the results of the attack on a large blackboard. Genda hurried down from the bridge once or twice, then relayed the word to Nagumo and Kusaka, both of whom impatiently awaited a final tabulation. During one of Genda’s visits to the blackboard the assembled pilots urged a second attack. Genda listened but offered no opinion.
Excitement rose to a high pitch around Akagi’s blackboard. The immediate concern of the pilots and observers was an accurate assessment of results. But they also discussed American resistance to the first wave, all agreeing that the reaction, “considering all the facts on that morning, was surprisingly quick.” The consensus was that without surprise such a great success would have been impossible.5
At about noon Fuchida’s pilot swooped down on Akagi’s rolling deck.6 An elated smile lit Genda’s thin face, and he wrung Fuchida’s hand exultantly. Then Genda rushed back to the bridge. At that moment a sailor ran up with a message that Nagumo wanted to see Fuchida immediately. But he decided to wait until he had correlated his observations with those of the flight leaders. So he carefully looked over the large blackboard chart and listened to the reports of about fifteen flying officers as he sipped a cup of tea. Their observations tallied closely with Fuchida’s, and he was satisfied that he could give his superiors a fairly accurate assessment. At this point another messenger informed Fuchida that he was to report to Nagumo and hurry.
He found Kusaka, Hasegawa, Oishi, Genda, and a few other staff officers gathered with Nagumo. Fuchida planned to give a formal briefing, listing events in order, but Nagumo broke in impatiently: “The results—what are they?”
“Four battleships sunk,” replied Fuchida. “I know this from my own personal observation. Four battleships damaged,” he added. Then he listed by berth and type the other ships his airmen had struck.
Again Nagumo interrupted. “Do you think that the U.S. Fleet could not come out from Pearl Harbor within six months?”
Uneasiness stirred Fuchida’s mind, but he owed the admiral the truth. “The main force of the U.S. Pacific Fleet will not be able to come out within six months,” he answered. Nagumo beamed and nodded.
Then Kusaka took up the questioning. “What do you think the next targets should be?” Fuchida drew a quick breath. The wording seemed to indicate an aggressive intent. He came back swiftly, “The next targets should be the dockyards, the fuel tanks, and an occasional ship.” He saw no need to attack the battleships again.
Kusaka also took up the possibility of an American counterattack. Genda and Fuchida assured him that the Japanese controlled the air over both Oahu and the sea. Oishi interjected. “Is the enemy in a position to counterattack the task force?” This direct question again put Fuchida on the spot, and again he called the shots as he saw them. “I believe we have destroyed many enemy planes, but I do not know whether we have destroyed them all. The enemy most probably could still attack the Fleet.” To this Oishi answered not a word, but his silence was eloquent.
Nagumo now returned to the discussion. “Where do you think the missing U.S. carriers are?” Fuchida explained that although he could not be sure, he thought most probably they were training somewhere at sea. Duty compelled him to add that no doubt by this time the carriers had received word of the attack and would be looking for the task force. Obviously this unpleasant suggestion made a deep impression on Nagumo. Oishi, too, fretted over a possible counterattack and asked Genda for his opinion. Not at all perturbed, Genda replied easily, “Let the enemy come! If he does, we will shoot his planes down.”
Nagumo dismissed Fuchida with a few words of praise; then Genda took over. Despite Fuchida’s impressive damage report, Genda was not satisfied. He knew his airmen had given Japan the golden chance that would never come again, so he wanted to finish the job. But he did not advocate another major strike that same afternoon. The planes had been refitted to attack ships at sea in case of an American counterattack. To hit Pearl Harbor again would require changing armament. Just such a move was destined to contribute heavily to the Japanese defeat at Midway. This process would hold up the takeoff until dark. Moeover, sea and air conditions had degenerated to the point where launching and recovering a group large enough to make the attack worthwhile “would have created confusion beyond the imagination” and resulted in many casualties.
Then, too, Lexington and Enterprise were still at large. Genda considered that “Nagumo would have been a standing joke for generations if he had attacked Pearl Harbor again” without first ascertaining their location. So Genda urged Nagumo: “Stay in the area for several days and run down the enemy carriers.”
But the admiral felt like a gambler who has staked his life’s savings on the turn of a card and won. His only idea was to cash in and go home as quickly as possible. He had risked Japan’s First Air Fleet, and his ships had come through without a scratch. He could not bring himself to tempt fate again or undergo once more the harrowing strain of a second shuffle.7
Yet Nagumo held more than his share of high cards. His airmen had put most of Kimmel’s battleships out of commission, badly damaged Short’s air bases, and singed the wings of U.S. air power in the central Pacific. Oahu’s defenders had fought back bravely, but for the most part they were stunned, confused, and demoralized, giving Nagumo a rich psychological advantage. U.S. military leaders on Oahu expected the Japanese to renew their attacks that same day and any time thereafter. Bellinger “thought that they probably would . . . refuel and come back” and could not understand why they did not.8 Short feared that enemy might attempt a major landing.9
The Japanese firmly believed in surprise attack and were thoroughly convinced of the advantages inherent in the initiative. Yet they failed to exhibit that decisiveness of action which alone would have exploited their extensive gains in the early, crucial hours of the conflict. Why?
During the cruise, as we have pointed out, Genda had worked on several alternate plans to achieve maximum damage.* What he hoped Nagumo would do now was send out patrols to find the American carriers and call the tankers down from the north to provide the necessary fuel for sustained operations. If they found the enemy’s flattops, they should attack them as soon as possible. If they did not locate them, the task force should remain in the area and continue the search. Eventually they would discover their quarry. Then, after attacking and presumably destroying the carriers, they should go home by way of the Marshall Islands and attack Pearl Harbor repeatedly as the task force sailed past Oahu on the west.10
But sadly lacking in the Pearl Harbor picture was a contingency plan to cover such a circumstance as Nagumo now faced: how to exploit the situation in case the first- and second-wave attacks succeeded beyond expectation. So Nagumo did not send out patrols to find the missing carriers. As far as we know, he did not even ask his numerous submarines to make on-the-spot checks around Oahu and report the results. Genda’s and Fuchida’s efforts for a total victory at Pearl Harbor broke against a Maginot Line of closed minds. “Without hesitation” Kusaka “recommended to Admiral Nagumo to make a withdrawal,” and Nagumo promptly concurred.
“The objective of this operation was to protect the flank and rear of the Southern Force,” explained Kusaka. “Inasmuch as its objective was almost accomplished, I concluded that we should not remain . . . on the scene and also should not be distracted into lengthening the game indefinitely. . . .” Within his own frame of reference and in the context of the time, Nagumo thought his greatest contribution to Japan’s future war effort would be to bring his task force back intact to fight another day. This had been one of the conditions under which the Naval General Staff had approved giving Nagumo six carriers.*
Nagumo and Kusaka appreciated Genda and Fuchida’s ardent desire to hit the enemy again and again, but as Kusaka pointed out, “We had to strike a reasonable balance between fighting spirit and resources. With Japan’s limited means and America’s potential, Japan just could not afford to gamble her ships recklessly nor run risks where the possible dividends were unclear.”11
The very ease of his victory threw Nagumo off-balance, as if he had rushed forward to break down a door just as someone opened it. Finding himself against all expectation without a scratch on his ships instead of having lost a third of his task force, he forgot about maximum damage to the enemy and began to think in terms of minimum damage to his task force. He and Kusaka agreed that the operation was 80 percent successful, the other 20 percent not worth the risk.
With the full advantage of surprise, the first attack wave had inflicted massive damage with a loss of only five torpedo bombers, one dive bomber, and three Zeros. When the second wave struck, despite the appalling punishment the Americans had taken, they extracted a price of fourteen dive bombers and six Zeros—still cheap, admittedly, but more than three times the cost of the initial assault and with much less impressive results to show for it. Furthermore, in addition to the twenty-nine aircraft missing, seventy-four had been damaged. These twenty-three fighters, forty-one bombers, and ten torpedo planes owed their escape more to good luck than good management.
Yet these factors were not decisive. Yamamoto or Yamaguchi might have weighed them in the balance against the fruits of total victory and struck again without hesitation. But Nagumo did not have that type of mind. Nor was he flexible enough to meet new and unexpected situations with confidence and decision. Both traditional naval strategy and economics, reinforced by the thought processes of a lifetime, urged Nagumo homeward.
Moreover, Nagumo placed great reliance upon Kusaka. He, too, had opposed the Pearl Harbor operation, less out of concern for its risks than from a commonsense doubt of its necessity. In accordance with the military principle of “mass,” he believed that the Japanese should have thrown everything in the the main theater. But after having said his say to Yamamoto and being overruled, Kusaka had given his word to do everything possible to further the scheme.* No man ever kept a promise better. Now he had fulfilled his obligation, and he wanted to move his ships and men as quickly as possible to the main area of operations, where in his opinion they should have been all along.
Nagumo’s decision to turn back came as a disappointment to many of his airmen, who wanted to exploit their opportunity. “Most of the young flying officers were eager to attack Pearl Harbor again because they wished to inflict as much damage as possible,” said Goto. “It was the chance of a lifetime, and many of the pilots felt the chance should not be passed up.”12
Some of Shindo’s fellow fliers “urged another attack,” but he had the impression that many “felt much relieved after inflicting much damage to the enemy and wanted to go back to the homeland quickly.” Shindo himself “thought another attack should be launched” but, true to his phlegmatic nature, “did not feel a strong impulse for urging it.” In retrospect he believed plans for repeated attacks should have been incorporated into Operation Hawaii from the beginning.13
Most of the survivors agreed that another attack was practicable from the standpoint of aircraft condition and morale of the personnel. As a result, the pilots aboard Akagi asked Genda for an explanation of Nagumo’s decision. He gave them three reasons: (1) The strike had already achieved its expected results; (2) a second attack would risk considerable damage to the task force; and (3) they did not know the position of the U.S. carriers. But his rationalizations did not prevent Genda from tagging Nagumo “a miscast misfit.” He believed that a different situation would have prevailed had Yamaguchi or Onishi been at the helm. However, he blamed Nagumo less than he did the Personnel Section of the Navy Ministry.14
In contrast, Commander Hashiguchi, Fuchida’s understudy, thought that a second all-out attack should not have been launched because the “damage inflicted upon enemy battleships by our forces was considered satisfactory.” He saw no point in a second attack with the first-priority targets, Kimmel’s carriers, not in port. Therefore, he agreed with Nagumo that the task force should not expend “crack air forces” to strike Oahu’s military installations but save them “to wage the decisive battle someday with enemy carriers.”15
As one might expect, Yamaguchi’s Second Carrier Division was ready for more action. He had always wanted the Pearl Harbor strike to be decisive. At Hitokappu Bay he had urged Nagumo to make a second and, if necessary, a third major effort to crush the enemy and had been dismayed to find Nagumo already committed to a one-shot attack. According to his air staff officer, Suzuki, Yamaguchi now eagerly awaited orders for further action.16 Not all his airmen blindly supported Yamaguchi. Lieutenant Heijiro Abe, for example, declared, “Since the enemy carriers, the top priority target, could not be located and the attack on Pearl Harbor had been more successful than expected, I was in favor of preserving our carrier strength intact in order to prepare for the next operation.”17
Although the Fifth Carrier Division suffered only one casualty—a dive bomber—Hara and his senior staff officer, Commander Ohashi, rather doubted that Nagumo would order another full-scale strike. Nor were the airmen aboard Hara’s flagship Shokaku particularly enthusiastic. Only the older, more experienced fliers discussed the possibility at all. Hara and Ohashi feared a land-based more than a carrier-based reprisal. They agreed that if the American flattops were near enough to hit the task force, they would already have done so. But they were not so sure about the situation on Oahu. Even now enemy bombers might be bearing down on the First Air Fleet. They believed that the Japanese should plan no further strikes until they had some solid facts to work on.18 Aboard Zuikaku, Air Officer Shimoda ordered all planes prepared for another attack. “Such a step was only common sense,” he said. Personally, he opposed such a venture because the enemy carriers remained unlocated and because he thought that by this time the Americans surely knew where to find Nagumo’s fleet.19
Fuchida was sitting in the command post on the upper flight deck, wolfing his first food since a predawn breakfast, when the order came: “Preparations for attack canceled.” Akagi broke out her signal flags to advise the rest of the task force that they would retire to the northwest. Fuchida rushed to the bridge to protest. He saluted Nagumo upon entering and asked, “Why are we not attacking again?” Nagumo opened his mouth to answer, but Kusaka forstalled him. “The objective of the Pearl Harbor operation has been achieved. Now we must prepare for other operations ahead.”
So definite was Kusaka’s tone that Fuchida had no opening for a rebuttal. Still, it took a firm act of will for him to swallow his disappointment and outrage. Not trusting himself to speak, he saluted, turned on his heel, and stalked out, “a bitter and angry man.”
He chided himself for not having hedged on Nagumo’s questions, miserably convinced that his assessment had tipped the balance for caution.20 He need not have blamed himself. Nagumo had already committed his forces to a one-shot operation. The missing American carriers; the possibility of enemy retaliation from land-based aircraft; above all, the probability that U.S. submarines might be searching out the task force—these factors merely reinforced a decision previously reached. Kusaka, too, had long since made up his mind that the attack “should be carried out as swiftly as a demon flashing by and also it should be withdrawn as fast as the passing wind.” He knew that only a few American bombers need strike the lightly armored carriers to reverse the entire tactical picture.21
Too large-minded to bear a grudge, Genda took the decision in good part. Nevertheless, he remained convinced that Nagumo should have completed the job. A brilliant tactician, he hated to see Japan fall this early in the war into the fatal error military textbooks call failure to pursue, which has turned so many victories to ashes. But in the final analysis Nagumo was the Commander in Chief, with the duty and responsibility of decision, and that was the end of it. Fuchida, more emotional than Genda and still keyed up with the nervous tension of combat, was so incensed that for the rest of the voyage home he spoke to Nagumo only when duty and courtesy demanded it.22
In Japan aboard Nagato, Ugaki confided his displeasure to his trusty diary. “Last night a telegram came in that the task force was withdrawing . . . not without being criticized as the quick pace of a fleeing thief and also as being contented with a humble lot,” he wrote. “In a situation where we lost only thirty planes, the most essential thing is to exploit the achieved results of the attack. . . .”23
Kuroshima called together some of the junior members of the Combined Fleet staff that evening to discuss a second attack against Pearl Harbor. Most of them agreed that this should be done, provided the enemy carriers could be located. Aside from the American flattops, two other obstacles loomed. First, Nagumo’s orders to his task force at Hitokappu Bay included a clause concerning “repeated attacks” but did not postulate another major assault. Kuroshima and his colleagues reasoned that Nagumo would have to issue new orders and re-form the task force. In radioing these orders to his tankers, which had moved farther northward, he might reveal his position and intentions to the enemy. Secondly, knowing Nagumo’s negative attitude, they presumed that the admiral would consider his mission accomplished, that his staff would support him, and that to order him back toward Hawaii would create a morale problem.
The next morning at about 1000 Kuroshima summarized these points for Yamamoto and Ugaki at another staff meeting.24 Of course, the final decision rested with Yamamoto, but his senior staff officer urged that he order a second assault. He pointed out that the radio reports of the action had been fragmentary, and the task force should strike again to remove any reasonable doubt that it had immobilized the U.S. Pacific Fleet.
Yamamoto listened to the discussion thoughtfully. The arguments contained certain inconsistencies which could not have escaped his notice. At this time the Combined Fleet was under the impression that a submarine had sunk an American carrier, so only one remained to menace the task force. Then, too, while his advisers worried lest in radioing orders to his tankers Nagumo reveal his position, they also assumed that the enemy knew where the First Air Fleet was and would be seeking it out. Furthermore, Nagumo had already broken radio silence to let Yamamoto know he was retiring.
However, Yamamoto knew that Nagumo would not attack again unless conditions were perfect, in which case, paradoxically, there would be no need for another assault. With his usual smiling irony he remarked that Nagumo no doubt felt like a thief who is desperately brave on his way to the scene of the crime and while actually committing it, but who then thinks only of escaping with the loot.
The Commander in Chief had the responsibility for a vast war plan for which the Pearl Harbor scheme, however close to his heart, was only a part. Had he been on the spot, he might have attacked again; still, he was astonished and delighted to get all his ships back intact. He made it a firm policy to leave decisions to the commander in the field, who could see the local situation and make up his mind on the basis of details necessarily hidden from the Combined Fleet staff. And to order Nagumo to reverse himself would be a stinging loss of face before his whole command. So Yamamoto vetoed the proposal to override the man on the spot.
In a significant diary item for December 9 (Japan time), Ugaki summarized what in his opinion constituted the reasons for Yamamoto’s decision:
1. This time an approach could not be made without being detected. In consequence . . . our losses would be great although we could expect good results. There would be some chance, too, of our forces being flank attacked by enemy carrier planes; this might result in a pretty heavy blow to us. . . .
2. We haven’t yet had a plan like that. It is not an easy task to draft a new plan and enforce it.
3. The most essential thing we have to consider right now is the mental factor involved. Who of those knowing the details of this operation from the beginning would dare to advocate strongly that we force another attack? What they [Nagumo’s officers and men] did nearly reached the limit of their ability. To demand much more of them would only make them angry.
The list is illuminating, and nothing could sound less like Isoroku Yamamoto. Defense-mindedness, inflexibility, and misunderstanding of the airmen stand clearly revealed. Certainly Nagumo’s fliers would have protested vigorously against the third assumption.
In Tokyo the Naval General Staff presented a picture of relative unanimity.25 The night before the attack Nagano, Ito, Fukudome, and Tomioka remained in the Navy Club in downtown Tokyo. At about 0330 they heard that almost unbelievable “Tora! Tora! Tora!” Despite their intense joy and relief, they were still much concerned about the task force and expended more thought on the possibility of a U.S. counterattack than on the chance of another successful assault. After breakfast at the club they returned to headquarters, where further discussions took place. According to Fukudome, one of the members advocated a second all-out attack but decided against so ordering Nagumo for the same reasons that influenced Yamamoto.
While the success of the Pearl Harbor attack greatly exceeded its most optimistic expectations, the Naval General Staff interpreted the results in terms of Japan’s master plan of conquest. The impetus of this propitious beginning provided further momentum for the grand push southward. Any steps to expand the results at Oahu should wait until Japan could exploit the vast resources it was now in a position to take over. Thus, temporarily turning its back on Hawaii, the Naval General Staff redoubled its efforts for the task it had always considered the number one priority.
The Navy Ministry never raised the question of a second attack on Pearl Harbor.26 This is not surprising. Except for administrative details on personnel and supply, operations were outside its jurisdiction. And Shimada lacked the forceful personality necessary to invade the bailiwicks of Nagano or Yamamoto.
Was Nagumo’s decision sound? The question raises a historical controversy which has never been settled and may never be. Both sides remained convinced of their own wisdom. Kusaka insisted that in the context of the hour and with the knowledge available to them, the decision to retire was correct, and if he had it to do all over again, he would recommend exactly the same course.27 In contrast, the failure to follow through at Pearl Harbor haunted Genda. “Hawaii provided the key to all future operations in the Pacific,” he declared. “Whoever controls Pearl Harbor holds the central Pacific firmly in his grasp. Unless Japan could take it and hold it, she could not defeat the U.S. Navy.”28
Both Genda and Fuchida had been so personally involved in the attack that they rather lost sight of Yamamoto’s original objective—to knock the Pacific Fleet hors de combat for about six months so that Japan could carry out its seizure of Southeast Asia without the U.S. Navy’s striking its flank. Seen in this light, Nagumo and Kusaka fulfilled their mission.
Nevertheless, a number of American admirals agree that the Japanese made the wrong decision. Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz remarked, “The fact that the Japanese did not return to Pearl Harbor and complete the job was the greatest help to us, for they left their principal enemy with the time to catch his breath, restore his morale, and rebuild his forces.”29
Kimmel considered the base at Pearl Harbor would have been an even more lucrative target than the warships: “. . . if they had destroyed the oil which was all above ground at that time . . . it would have forced the withdrawal of the fleet to the coast because there wasn’t any oil anywhere else out there to keep the fleet operating.”30
On the other hand, Furlong pointed out that Nagumo followed classic naval doctrine in staying within the established boundaries of his task and refusing to be tempted into alluring side paths. “Their mission may have been wrong,” said Furlong, “but they stuck with it.” The fault as he saw it lay not in the execution, but in the original assignment of targets.31
Admiral Raymond A. Spruance, hero of Midway, had somewhat the same idea. “The Japanese attacked only military objectives,” he said. “This was their mission, and they stuck to it.” He, too, believed the Japanese could have done much more damage had they struck the submarine base, the tank farm, and the like. He thought that they worked over the ships effectively, but he added, “So long as anything was left, they had not completed the job.”32
Despite his decision, Yamamoto “was still not satisfied with Nagumo,” according to Tomioka. He never forgot Nagumo’s original opposition to his plan. And at Pearl Harbor Nagumo carried out his orders but did not go one bit beyond them to exploit the situation fully. Yamamoto thought that he should have made a second major attack even though not so ordered.
Tomioka believed that Nagumo was not entirely at fault because carrying out orders according to the book was a general weakness in the Japanese Navy. Its officers lacked a sufficiently flexible outlook to adapt themselves to new situations which might permit them to go beyond their instructions. Tomioka further believed that the root of the problem lay in the Japanese educational system, which placed a high premium on cramming facts into students’ minds rather than on individual thinking.33
When Ugaki recorded the discussion in Combined Fleet headquarters and the reasons for the verdict, he tried to be philosophical: “There is a saying, ‘It is good tactics to conclude a game without committing too much.’” Then his true opinion burst forth: “Had I been the C-in-C of the task force, however, I would have firmly resolved to continue to attack strongly . . . until Pearl Harbor was completely destroyed.”34 But had Ugaki been aboard Akagi on that fateful morning, he might have reached the same conclusions as Nagumo and Kusaka.
Yet from the Japanese point of view, one is inclined to agree with Yamamoto’s observation to Ozawa at Truk in late 1942: “Events have shown that it was a great mistake not to have launched a second attack against Pearl Harbor.”35 By failing to exploit the shock, bewilderment, and confusion on Oahu, by failing to take full advantage of its savage attack against Kimmel’s ships, by failing to pulverize the Pearl Harbor base, by failing to destroy Oahu’s vast fuel stores, and by failing to seek out and sink America’s carriers, Japan committed its first and probably its greatest strategical error of the entire Pacific conflict.