On 20 January Fletcher gladly read Halsey’s orders for simultaneous raids by TF-8 and TF-17 against the Marshalls and Gilberts six days after they left Samoan waters. They could not depart until the troops had disembarked, but Fletcher did not know how long that might take. In the first true demonstration of his boldness as a war leader, Halsey daringly chose Jaluit as his main objective, rather than an outpost atoll. He definitely exceeded Cincpac’s original intent, if not his actual orders. U.S. subs poking around the mysterious Marshalls discovered especially heavy activity there and at Kwajalein. Halsey estimated Jaluit might have eighty planes of all types. Just to get within strike range meant penetrating the 170-mile gap between Mili and Makin, which only increased the risk of being spotted the day before the raid. The Enterprise and two cruisers would race ahead at twenty-five knots; the destroyers would follow at fifteen knots to save fuel. Jaluit would absorb nearly all the Enterprise strike planes and most of the Yorktown’s. The rest of the Yorktown group was to attack Makin, while the Enterprise fighters hit Mili 120 miles east of Jaluit.1
Still undecided on the exact attack sequence, Halsey’s staff prepared three alternatives. Plan Afirm called for two Enterprise dive bombing squadrons (thirty-six SBDs) to depart just prior to sunrise from 175 miles southeast of Jaluit, while six fighters strafed Mili. TF-17, located sixty miles southeast of TF-8 and 170 miles south of Jaluit, was to contribute one dive bombing squadron to the Jaluit strike and send the other squadron southward against Makin. After the launch, both task forces would retire eastward at high speed, recover their planes, and hightail it away. Plan Baker was similar, except that if heavy ships were known to be at Jaluit, Halsey would take both carriers to 150 miles and employ their torpedo squadrons as well. If the weather cooperated, Plan Cast stipulated an earlier arrival at the launch point and spooky moonlit strikes at midnight, either with or without torpedo planes as circumstances dictated. Fletcher prepared for each contingency. Following Halsey’s lead, he incorporated his big ships into a “striking group” and the four destroyers as a “support group” to save fuel. After launching the first air attack, the Striking Group would retire at high speed, rejoin the Support Group, and withdraw northeast. Thereafter Fletcher was to take care to stay 150 miles southeast of TF-8. Halsey planned only one flurry of strikes before hauling out northeast for Pearl. On the second morning after the attack, he wanted to be more than a thousand miles northeast to meet the Platte. Fletcher likewise arranged to join the Sabine 160 miles southeast of Halsey’s own fueling rendezvous.2
Adm. William F. Halsey Jr., circa 1944.
Courtesy of U.S. Navy
King waited impatiently for Nimitz’s counterblow to unfold. Beginning on 17 January, radio intelligence, based on traffic analysis, detected a possible shift of strength from the Marshalls southwest to Truk. That became more evident on 20 January after the Australians reported about one hundred carrier planes pounded Rabaul on New Britain in the Bismarck Archipelago north of New Guinea. Rabaul indeed fell on 23 January, local time. King did not care for his carriers to linger too long at Samoa. On the twentieth he told Nimitz that merely advancing TF-8 and TF-17 northwest from Samoa “will afford adequate cover,” and “the time factor appears paramount.” A separate raid against Wake two or three days after the Halsey-Fletcher strikes would forestall any determined pursuit. With powerful forces evidently moving out of the Marshalls, Wake now looked exposed. Despite misgivings about committing all three carriers at once, Nimitz bent to Cominch’s will. He arranged for the Neches to sail on 22 January and meet Brown six hundred miles west of Johnston. Brown was to bomb Wake and possibly also shell it with his cruisers. On 21 January Nimitz told Halsey and Fletcher it was “essential” to “expedite” the “execution of my Op-Plan 4–42.” The carriers now needed only to cover Tutuila until the three big liners got clear, leaving the San Francisco and three destroyers to protect the Lassen and Jupiter. Nimitz also authorized Halsey to select targets in the inner Marshalls chain, namely Kwajalein and Jaluit, and thus belatedly sanctioned what Halsey had already decided.3
The fall of Rabaul convinced Capt. Jock Clark, the Yorktown’s headstrong executive officer, that TF-17 must attack there rather than the Marshalls. He tried to get Buckmaster not only to recommend the change of objective to Fletcher, but also to break radio silence to secure Nimitz’s approval. Buckmaster refused. Clark brazenly went over his head to flag plot. Fletcher told him the plans could not be changed, but Clark loftily declared that “no plan should be absolutely inflexible.” No doubt put off by the executive officer’s effrontery, Fletcher naturally declined to stir up his superiors, who knew much more about the situation than did he or Clark. Later Clark personally relayed his version of that episode, and a great many other things, to King, who replied that the Cominch staff had briefly thought of that very thing. Of course neither Clark nor King considered the drawbacks of an improvised Rabaul raid, namely daunting logistics and at least two nearby Japanese carriers.4
On the evening of 22 January Fletcher flew a message to Tutuila for radio relay to Halsey. Nearly all the troops were ashore. He recommended TF-17 depart Samoa on 24 January. According to Halsey’s timetable, the attacks would go in the morning of Sunday, 1 February, local time (Saturday, 31 January, east of the date line). Halsey concurred. On 24 January Fletcher again had Samoa radio advise that he would keep 150 miles astern of TF-8, then fuel and attack as ordered. That evening Halsey and Fletcher shoved off to the northwest toward the Phoenix Islands and the Mandates beyond.5
Ironically the nearest Japanese surface force to Halsey and Fletcher approached from the northeast. For nearly two months Rear Adm. Takeda Moriharu’s 24th Cruiser Division, with the armed merchant cruisers Hokoku Maru and Aikoku Maru, prowled the southeast Pacific, but only managed to sink two Allied ships. So elusive was Takeda (and to his disgust, his prey) that intelligence bulletins merely offered vague warnings of commerce raiders far to the east near Easter Island. Now Takeda steamed back toward the Mandates through the very same waters Halsey and Fletcher intended to traverse. Fortunately for them, several false alarms slowed Takeda’s progress, and squally weather on the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh discouraged him from flying air searches. Consequently both task forces passed ahead of the oncoming Japanese—TF-17 within two hundred miles, but at night. Neither side was any wiser. Contact would have meant Takeda’s swift destruction, but it also would have alerted Combined Fleet to American carriers in the South Pacific.6
King’s uneasiness over the slow progress of Cincpac’s developing raids deepened after 23 January, when a submarine picked off the star-crossed Neches 135 miles southwest of Oahu as she plodded without destroyer escort to her rendezvous with TF-11. As Brown lacked the fuel to continue to Wake, and no other oiler was available, Nimitz canceled the mission and recalled him to Pearl. With Rabaul in hand, Japan appeared ready to surge unchecked into the southwest Pacific. More evidence mounted that the Marshalls had been stripped of air and sea power to support the new advance. The U.S. counterstrike must take place as soon as possible. On 25 January Nimitz told his task force commanders that sub reconnaissance of Maloelap and Wotje showed that “all installations could be razed by bombing or bombardment with negligible risk.” Two days later King condescending queried Cincpac: “Assume you are aware of serious threat to communications with Australia created by current enemy occupation of points especially Rabaul in Bismark [sic] archipelago.” It was “inadvisable” to redirect part of Halsey’s force westward (so much for Clark’s idea to raid Rabaul). Thus, “it is essential that planned attack in Marshalls be driven home.” Cominch felt pressured to act before the Japanese got the jump on his evolving South Pacific strategy and beat him to the crucial island groups. “Now is opportunity to destroy enemy forces and installations Gilberts Marshalls,” Nimitz told Halsey and Fletcher. It was “essential that attacks be driven home,” with “repeated air attacks and ship bombardments” as “feasible.” The attacks could extend beyond one day, “if practicable.” Although Nimitz’s orders were unequivocal and aggressive, he worried about them, writing his wife on 29 January: “I do feel depressed a large part of the time but I always hope for a turn for the better.”7
In this particular instance King could not complain about a lack of spirit either at Pearl or in the Enterprise. Halsey read the new orders just after he crossed the equator west of the Phoenix Islands. Cincpac now demanded a “close-in attack” against the Marshalls that effectively resurrected the old reconnaissance and raiding plan. The TF-8 staff, led by the intelligent but erratic Cdr. Miles R. Browning, recast the attack plans for TF-8 and TF-17. Browning “put a pencil on the chart and indicated the ideal spot from where we could do the most damage.” There would be strikes against Wotje, Maloelap, and Kwajalein, now the prime objective. Just to get into range of Kwajalein, the Enterprise must launch from only a few miles north of Wotje. “To bring a carrier within visual distance of an enemy-held position,” Halsey mused, “is not considered good practice.” Even so, he shifted his approach nearly three hundred miles northward to the northern Marshalls and divided TF-8 into three task groups to hit widely separated targets. The first air strike was to go in fifteen minutes prior to sunrise. Spruance would bombard Wotje with two heavy cruisers and one destroyer, while the third heavy cruiser and two destroyers pounded Taroa in Maloelap atoll, also the target of a fighter sweep. Halsey alerted his task force to “be prepared for further attacks as ordered.”8
As TF-17 fueled from the Sabine on 28 January, Halsey delivered new orders by plane to the Yorktown. Fletcher likely gave a shake of his head in amazement when he discovered how Halsey intended to rampage the northern Marshalls. TF-17 received the original objectives of Jaluit, Mili, and Makin, with the main effort against Jaluit. Other than decreeing simultaneous strikes timed to coordinate with his own assaults, Halsey left the details to Fletcher. He did suggest using nine SBDs and three torpedo-armed TBDs against Makin, where Cincpac intelligence placed an auxiliary seaplane tender servicing about seven large flying boats, and authorized Fletcher to bombard Mili and also Majuro and Arno atolls (north and northeast of Mili) “at discretion.” Fletcher should repeat the attacks “as objectives and developments warrant,” report results promptly, and inform him of particularly juicy ship targets. Halsey also promised to let him know when TF-8 pulled out and to tell him when to do the same.9
Fletcher retained the tactic of dividing TF-17 into a striking group (the Yorktown and two cruisers) and a support group (four destroyers under Captain Fahrion). From Point Ram the evening before the attack, the Striking Group was to sprint the last 215 miles at twenty-five knots west to the launch position. That was Point Bomb, which Fletcher relocated fifty miles northeast of the original launch point in case he decided to shell Mili. Point Bomb was within easy range of all three objectives, the farthest being Jaluit 140 miles northwest. At 0500 on 1 February (Z-12), the Striking Group was to reverse course to the east. The Yorktown would dispatch her air attacks and soon after rejoin the Support Group closing at fifteen knots. With sixty flyable aircraft (seventeen fighters, thirty-one dive bombers, and twelve torpedo bombers), the Yorktown wielded thirteen fewer planes than the Enterprise (eighteen fighters, thirty-seven dive bombers, and eighteen torpedo bombers). There were not enough torpedo planes to split between Jaluit and Mili as Halsey suggested. Fletcher retained his few fighters to protect the task force. He committed to the Jaluit strike Lt. Cdr. Robert G. Armstrong’s Bombing Five (seventeen SBDs) and all twelve TBDs of Lt. Cdr. Joe Taylor’s Torpedo Five, led by group commander Curt Smiley in an SBD. Jaluit was a large, irregularly shaped atoll, with the principal shore installations on the southeast portion of the rim. Fletcher still had no clear idea what was there, perhaps auxiliary ships, as well as submarines and aircraft. The mixed nature of the targets and the distance led him, on Buckmaster’s advice, to arm the TBDs with three 500-pound bombs each instead of torpedoes, at least for the first strike. Scouting Five (Lt. Cdr. William O. Burch Jr.) received the other two targets: Makin located 130 miles south of the launch point and Mili some seventy miles north. Burch with nine SBDs would deal with the seaplane tender and flying boats at Makin, while Lt. Wallace C. Short took five more to Mili, another sizeable atoll. Each SBD carried a single 500-pound bomb.10
Fletcher wished to see what his strikes turned up before deciding his next course of action. He did plan one follow-up raid against Jaluit that afternoon, but never seriously considered bombarding Mili, Arno, and Majuro. TF-17 was considerably weaker than Halsey’s TF-8. Both his cruisers lacked air search radar, which limited their effectiveness for independent missions. Also, Cincpac’s 21 January message advised that a U.S. sub found no evidence of military activity whatsoever at Arno and Majuro. Honoring Halsey’s injunction to repeat the attacks if required, Fletcher planned to withdraw east the evening of 1 February to meet his Fueling Group (Sabine and Mahan) conveniently parked near Point Ocean 440 miles east of Makin. After topping off destroyers, he would again plaster Jaluit and perhaps Makin on the morning of 3 February.11
U.S. naval intelligence correctly deduced the enemy carriers and most land-based air strength had deployed southwest beyond Truk, thus confirming the splendid opportunity to strike the Mandates. The capture of Rabaul (the “R” Operation) was the only foray into the “Southeast Area” that Imperial General Headquarters included in the first operational phase. Admiral Nagumo’s Akagi, Kaga, Shōkaku, and Zuikaku supported that invasion while the Sōryū and Hiryū raided Ambon in the East Indies. By 31 January the Akagi, Kaga, and Zuikaku were anchored at Truk, the Sōryū and Hiryū returned to Palau, and the Shōkaku headed home to pick up aircraft. Admiral Inoue’s South Seas Force focused on its offensive southward into the Bismarcks. Only nine of thirty-five medium bombers and nine of twenty-seven flying boats remained in the Marshalls. What is more, the Japanese relaxed their guard. The top commanders failed to heed an intelligence alert of increased U.S. radio activity in the central Pacific that might foreshadow an attack.12
On 29 January TF-8 conducted a daring midnight refueling of the Enterprise by the Platte that aptly illustrated the fleet’s improving skills in that regard. It was the first time an oiler fueled a heavy ship in the dark. Afterward Halsey set course northwest at eighteen knots. By sundown he was less than five hundred miles from the Mandates. At midnight he crossed the date line, skipping 30 January to jump to 31 January (Z-12 time). The longer than anticipated run to the target cost fuel that he must replace. The empty Platte and destroyer Craven left for Pearl. The oil already on hand might just bring TF-8 back to Pearl, but not if the offensive lasted beyond one day. Via a message later radioed by the Platte, Halsey informed Cincpac that if he did not send another oiler, “it will be necessary to withdraw after one day due to fuel requirements.” Also on 29 January Fletcher completed fueling TF-17 about 150 miles south of TF-8. He detached the Sabine and Mahan to proceed to Point Ocean and counted on her fuel to see TF-17 home.13
Nimitz acted quickly to succor Halsey. In light of Cominch concern about enemy thrusts beyond Rabaul into the southwest Pacific, Nimitz examined deploying carriers far south of Pearl. Pye strongly recommended that after the Marshalls raid one of Halsey’s carrier task forces veer south to Fiji rather than retire to Pearl. At the same time Brown’s TF-11 with the Lexington would sortie from Pearl to take station west of Samoa. Together these two carriers could check forays toward the New Hebrides or New Caledonia. McMorris, as usual, clashed with Pye, calling the proposed deployment “too eccentric” and complained that it conflicted with the fleet’s primary mission of defending Hawaii. McMorris much preferred keeping TF-11 in the central Pacific, either to follow up Halsey’s strikes against the Marshalls or hit Wake. Nimitz had hoped to defer any decision regarding TF-11 until after Halsey and Fletcher attacked. Now he advised Halsey that Brown would sail on 31 January with the Neosho, the “only available tanker,” to meet him two days following the attack one hundred miles northeast of the original fueling rendezvous. Even so, Nimitz gave Halsey the option to curtail the raids after the first day. After delivering the oil, Brown was to patrol southward as far as Canton Island, then return to Pearl around 16 February.14
Halsey and Fletcher next faced the hurdle of reaching their launch points undetected. On 31 January (Z-12), less than twenty-four hours before the scheduled attack, Fletcher belatedly discovered that the Yorktown’s air search had violated his strict orders not to be seen from land. On the morning of the twenty-seventh two SBDs flew over tiny Howland Island, the small sand spit Amelia Earhart failed to find in July 1937. The pilots now stated they found nothing amiss there, but that did not square with a message from Canton Island that Fletcher monitored on the thirtieth. Air reconnaissance on 28 January revealed that Howland and neighboring Baker Island recently suffered a severe bombing. The culprits were correctly assumed to be Makin-based flying boats. Based on what his pilots said, Fletcher deduced the bombing must have taken place either the afternoon of 27 January or early the following day, when TF-17 cruised only one hundred miles northwest of Howland. Japanese planes could have spotted either the Yorktown planes or the task force—a prospect with potentially dire consequences. Fletcher also sweated out daylight on the thirty-first when he might expect search planes from Makin or Jaluit, but nothing appeared on radar. Halsey was even luckier. That day radar detected an intruder within thirty miles of TF-8, but the bogey (an unidentified aircraft) neither changed course nor sparked any urgent messages. Halsey assumed haze hid his ships from view. Now it looked as if both task forces might surprise the enemy. Marine Capt. Bankson T. Holcomb, a Japanese linguist borrowed from Rochefort’s ultrasecret Hypo radio intelligence unit, rode the Enterprise. Halsey mischievously directed Holcomb to compose a message in Japanese taunting the search crew for its laxness and ordered hundreds of mimeographed copies be dropped during the next day’s raids in the Marshalls. According to Halsey, Nimitz later chuckled at the story, but the episode discloses a casual attitude senior admirals showed at that time toward radio intelligence security. Halsey’s joke in truth revealed that the raiders had discovered the searcher and knew it sent no warning.15
Reaching Point Ram on Saturday evening, the Yorktown, Louisville, and St. Louis upped speed to 25.5 knots, leaving Captain Fahrion’s four destroyers to follow at a sedate fifteen. The weather turned ugly with a thickening overcast. The Yorktown’s aerologist, Lt. Cdr. Hubert R. Strange, forecast the next morning would be “sloppy,” with a frontal zone hindering visibility over the task force and perhaps the targets as well. Even that unappealing estimate was a great understatement. Before dawn on 1 February a high overcast, punctuated by dark clouds, obscured the horizon that soon became less distinct as the moon set. To the northwest lightning flashes and squalls pointed the way to Jaluit. Figures scuttled around the thirty-two planes (four F4Fs for combat air patrol; the Jaluit strike of seventeen SBDs and eleven TBDs) squatting on the dark flight deck. Soon the deck blossomed with bright blue exhaust flames. Spectators filled “Vulture’s Row” on the island catwalks eager to watch the Yorktown’s first battle launch. At 0452 the Striking Group turned northeast into the wind at Point Bomb. The planes took off without incident. Fletcher steadied his three ships due east at twenty-six knots, hurrying back the way he had come all night. The Yorktown swiftly respotted the flight deck with the second deck load of fourteen VS-5 SBDs destined for Makin and Mili. By 0604 both flights had departed, and Fletcher settled down to wait results. After sunrise at 0649 the cloud cover retained much murkiness. A few minutes later Fletcher welcomed the fine sight of Fahrion’s four destroyers closing from the southeast. They maneuvered to form an antiaircraft screen around the carrier group, a timely precaution, when the Yorktown’s radar picked up a bogey twenty-five miles northwest. The interloper turned out to be a TBD with a mechanical malady. Its crew reported more horrible weather in the direction of Jaluit.16
By 0800 the fourteen Makin and Mili attackers circled overhead. Once on board, Burch briefed Fletcher about the converted seaplane tender and two flying boats moored in Makin lagoon. Though far from ideal, it turned out the weather was not a factor. Burch claimed two hits that set the tender afire, and destruction of both aircraft. In fact one bomb struck the stern of the transport/gunboat Nagata Maru (2,900 tons), causing “medium damage.” Both flying boats burned. If Makin seemed an unlikely candidate for a second strike, Lieutenant Short judged Mili not even worth the first one. His five SBDs discovered nothing whatsoever of military value, understandable because Mili’s garrison comprised merely a lookout post and a construction detail. Fletcher soon relaunched the fourteen dive bombers as a low-level anti-torpedo-plane patrol to help protect TF-17.17
With the Makin and Mili attackers safely in the fold, Fletcher concentrated his attention on Jaluit. At 0815 the Yorktown copied a radio message from Lt. Harlan T. Johnson, the popular VT-5 executive officer. He and a wingman were about to ditch on the northern fringe of Jaluit, far beyond any help Fletcher could offer. The weather around home plate dramatically worsened. Fletcher tried zigzagging around a series of vicious rain storms, but the squall line was too wide. By 0930 flying conditions deteriorated to the extent that he gave Buckmaster permission to recover all combat air patrol fighters and the fourteen SBDs. They started landing along with the first returning Jaluit attackers. Sheets of rain reduced visibility to a hundred yards, with wind gusts to fifty knots. Nevertheless the Yorktown continued recovering planes. Suddenly a VS-5 SBD from the anti-torpedo-plane patrol plowed into the sea close aboard the destroyer Hughes, wearing Fahrion’s pennant. Fahrion alertly stopped so as not to lose sight of the ditched aviators and detailed the destroyer Walke to pick them up. In the midst of the storm, the Walke’s whaleboat bravely rescued both pilot and radioman. By 1010 Fletcher knew the Walke had on board two aviators, one believed suffering internal injuries.18
In the meantime Fletcher learned from the first of the Jaluit flyers that weather was causing great difficulty for the flight home. Some pilots radioed to ask the direction of the ship. Luckily the Yorktown’s YE radio homer functioned well, but Fletcher also permitted Buckmaster to break radio silence and provide a vector. At 1002, after learning more of the situation, Fletcher sent the destroyer Russell ten miles astern to direct lost planes to the task force and recover ditched crews. The wisdom of that decision swiftly became apparent at 1023, when one TBD radioed that another Devastator crew had taken to its raft after ditching twenty miles northwest of the task force. Concerned that the storm boiling westward might foil the rescue, Fletcher told Fahrion to take the Hughes and Sims and join the Russell searching astern of TF-17. Fahrion was to spread the three destroyers into a scouting line, sweep fifteen to twenty miles west, find the downed crew, and do what he could for other returning planes. When the squalls abated for a time, Fletcher also directed the Walke, which lacked a doctor, to transfer her hurt VS-5 passengers to the Louisville for medical care. Fortunately their injuries proved minor. In the meantime the Yorktown and St. Louis continued east at reduced speed. Fletcher’s willingness to strip the Yorktown of nearly her entire destroyer screen and to slow a cruiser to save two aircrew would appear beyond reproach, but even that proved insufficient in Jock Clark’s jaundiced view.19
By 1040 the last of the attackers were either stowed on board the Yorktown or beyond hope. One TBD made it on only two gallons of gasoline. The Russell proved invaluable in guiding stragglers toward the task force. Even so the Yorktown lost four VT-5 TBDs and two VB-5 SBDs from the Jaluit strike. From the squadron commanding officers, Fletcher and Buckmaster gained a grim sense of what transpired on the Jaluit mission. Neither VB-5 nor VT-5 completed its own rendezvous nor established tactical contact. Taylor, the commanding officer of VT-5, found himself totally alone. Smiley quickly lost control, but Armstrong, VB-5 skipper, got most of the aircraft to follow him. Hoping to assemble more planes, he delayed departure for twenty minutes. On the way out a rain squall forced him down to five hundred feet. Long before 0630, when Armstrong reached the vicinity of Jaluit, the formation broke beyond redemption. To make matters even worse, heavy thunderstorms blanketed Jaluit. From 0700 to 0750 Yorktown planes showed up in twos and threes. Perhaps fifteen SBDs and six TBDs actually bombed targets. No one got a clear look at the whole area. The planes either attacked the few visible large ships or settled for shore installations. The low ceiling forced VB-5 to dive bomb from low altitude, while the TBDs attempted abbreviated glide-bombing runs. Lt. William S. Guest of VB-5, the first to attack, apparently scored the only hit. He inflicted minor damage to the 8,600-ton transport Kantō Maru. The Yorktowners claimed hitting another auxiliary, but the transport Daidō Maru sustained negligible harm. Some SBDs strafed small craft in the harbor or, like the TBDs, bombed sites on shore. One blessing was the paucity of air opposition, despite float planes buzzing the area. The attackers failed to sight three large flying boats moored there. These Japanese planes left Jaluit after the attack to find the U.S. carrier.20
While looking for the downed TBD crew west of TF-17, Fahrion’s three destroyers ran into snoopers probing the stormy skies. Emerging from clouds, one Type 97 flying boat started a bomb run against the Russell at 1109, only to be dissuaded by five-inch antiaircraft bursts. It then dropped a stick of four bombs that exploded harmlessly in the Sims’s wake. At 1117 the Yorktown’s CXAM radar discovered the bogey thirty-two miles due west about the same time Fahrion requested fighter support. Buckmaster scrambled six fighters in the midst of a rainstorm, but they sighted nothing. In turn the Kawanishi radioed base that two destroyers lurked 230 miles southeast of Jaluit, lost contact around 1145, and withdrew. Meanwhile, Fahrion searched where the hapless TBD went down an hour before. Lookouts in the Hughes noted an oil slick and wreckage, but no life raft. Satisfied by 1145 that under the circumstances he did all he could to find the missing aircrew, Fahrion rounded up his three destroyers and rang up thirty-five knots to overtake TF-17 to the east. The TBD crew was never recovered. In his memoirs Clark asserted that Fletcher and Buckmaster deliberately abandoned these aviators despite his urgent entreaty to turn the whole task force around and rescue them. He supposed Fletcher behaved so cravenly because he lacked “confidence in our air protection.” Instead, “being masters of the local air situation, we could have easily recovered the three men without any real risk.” In Washington the next month Clark related his version of these events to a receptive King and Rear Adm. Jack Towers, the chief of Buaer. It was an unforgivably malicious smear, given that Fletcher indeed sent three destroyers back amid turbulent seas to find this lost crew. Fletcher’s career reveals numerous instances of his concern for his aviators.21
By noon Fletcher and his staff pondered their next move. He had hoped to unleash a second wave against Jaluit that afternoon. However, the weather was so poor, and the first strike took so long to get back (more than five hours), that any planes sent that afternoon could not reappear until after dark. Such marginal flying conditions made that an undesirable option. Figuring the enemy already knew about where he was, Fletcher broke radio silence at 1240 to transmit a summary to Halsey and Nimitz. TF-17 was “retiring for fuel[;] weather precludes further attack today.” Captain Nixon in the Louisville inquired whether the Yorktown or the St. Louis could see one of his Curtiss SOC float planes, aloft since early that morning on antisubmarine patrol. Fletcher replied negative. A few minutes later he allowed Nixon to break radio silence to try to bring the SOC home. The effort failed, and the Seagull was presumed downed in the earlier violent storms. That raised to eight the number of planes lost by TF-17 that dreary morning. With squalls obscuring the horizon, Fletcher radioed Fahrion to follow him to Point Ocean should he not rejoin that afternoon. Actually the destroyers swiftly closed his location.22
Shortly after 1300 the Yorktown rotated her combat air patrol of six Wildcats. At the same time her radar suddenly detected a bogey thirty-five miles northeast. At 1313 a second Jaluit-based flying boat lurched into view ten miles ahead. Two combat air patrol Wildcats swiftly latched onto the big Kawanishi as it crossed over to port and passed behind the clouds. Four minutes later it exploded in bright flames five miles away. The Yorktown’s first aerial victory cheered the whole task force. Ens. E. Scott McCuskey, one of the two fighter pilots, piped up on the fighter radio circuit: “We shot his ass off!” Clark added on the bullhorn for the benefit of the whole ship: “Burn, you son-of-a-bitch, burn!” The destruction of the flying boat greeted Fahrion as he brought the Hughes, Sims, and Russell in sight. The flying boat never had time to radio base before it was lost.23
Fletcher again considered whether to launch another air strike or even bombard one of the nearby islands, Mili perhaps or Makin. Given the poor weather conditions, he wondered whether the enemy patrol planes might have airborne radar, so skillfully did they find and track TF-17. Finally he decided to withdraw. The horrible weather already cost eight planes, including two simply trying to stay aloft near the task force. The aerologist forecast continued bad weather for the region. No islands within reach appeared to be worth the effort or possible risk to get at them. In addition a detour at this time would interfere with plans to refuel the destroyers on 2 February. It seemed wiser to resume the attack on Jaluit the day after that, hopefully with better weather. The issue became moot after 1430, when Fletcher received new orders from Halsey. Declaring, “Destruction military objectives this force such that further operations my area not justified,” Halsey advised Nimitz and Fletcher that he was retiring northeast while under attack. The TF-8 bluejackets later dubbed the maneuver “Haul ass with Halsey.” Heavy cruiser Chester had swallowed one bomb but made thirty knots, and plane losses were light. Halsey told Fletcher to “withdraw your force at discretion not later than tonight.” Thus the Pacific Fleet’s first counterattack was over. Fletcher changed course northeast and arranged for a new fueling rendezvous in the direction of Hawaii. That evening he learned more about what befell TF-8 in the northern Marshalls. Halsey certainly enjoyed much better hunting but confronted a more spirited defense. He claimed “many” transports and auxiliaries sunk or hit by air attack at Kwajalein. Bombing and ship bombardments had beached or damaged more transports at Wotje, while shore installations on Maloelap and Wotje also sustained extensive damage. “Many enemy planes [were] destroyed on ground and in air.” The Chester’s condition improved, and the Enterprise suffered only light damage. All this mayhem cost TF-8 only six planes.24
Halsey’s great concern, aside from evading further attack, was fuel. That evening he requested Brown, shepherding the Neosho southward, to meet him “earliest” along a line projecting southwest of Pearl. Brown obliged, radioing that he now expected to join TF-8 on 3 February (west longitude date) north of Johnston island. The next morning (1 February, west longitude time), Nimitz confirmed the rendezvous between Halsey and Brown. He warned Fletcher that if the Neosho were lost, he must provide Halsey oil from the Sabine. Happily Halsey decided that he had sufficient fuel to reach Pearl, so Cincpac released Brown to continue south to Christmas Island. Nimitz sent Halsey and Fletcher a satisfying, “Well done from the entire fleet.” Now it was just a case of attending to business and getting safely to Pearl. That evening Fletcher met his oiler and fueled the next two days while edging northeast toward Oahu. TF-8 reached Pearl on 5 February to great acclaim. Cheers and whistles sounded throughout the harbor, and a jubilant Nimitz rushed on board the Enterprise to greet Halsey. At noon on 6 February as TF-17 entered Pearl, the curious Yorktowners lined up in whites along her flight deck for their first look at the great devastation still evident after two months. The public reception proved considerably more restrained than the one accorded Halsey, but Nimitz’s welcome was warm. Fletcher immediately noticed the difference in mood (“like a breath of fresh air”) in the month since Nimitz assumed command. “Nimitz brought calmness to the scene and he restored morale.”25
Halsey claimed sinking or crippling about fifteen ships at Kwajalein and Wotje, including a cruiser, two submarines, several gunboats and tenders, and a flotilla of auxiliaries. He also reported destroying thirty-five planes. For five hours he laid the Enterprise alongside Wotje much like an old-time frigate grappling an opponent. Fighting furiously, he got away despite a determined air attack that included a flaming bomber that grazed the Big E’s flight deck. Halsey’s actual score was far less than thought at the time. Japanese sources later revealed that TF-8 sank three small auxiliary ships; damaged an old minelayer, an old light cruiser, and four transports; and destroyed about fifteen planes. As the Cincpac War Plans diary noted, Fletcher’s actually accurate tally of two auxiliaries damaged and three flying boats destroyed added “little” to what TF-8 had supposedly achieved. Following Morison’s lead, E. B. Potter wondered if Fletcher’s meager results were “perhaps” also due to “excess caution.” In retrospect, though, it is hard to see what Fletcher could have done differently other than to sail right up to Jaluit and slug it out. Halsey put it best. “The jinx that had dogged us . . . transferred to [TF-17] during the attack.”26
Nimitz described the Marshalls-Gilberts raids as “well conceived, well planned and brilliantly executed.” He recommended Halsey for an immediate Distinguished Service Medal (DSM), and Browning for promotion to captain. Rightly Halsey got the credit, but if Fletcher did not exactly win plaudits, at least he accomplished his mission. The raids did little to deter the Japanese juggernaut in the Far East, but that did not detract from the real effect of Halsey’s success. As he said, no matter what the results, “richer still” was the effect on American morale. The Pacific Fleet finally fought back. On 13 February the Navy Department released details of the raids that swelled a sorely tested national pride. Overnight Bill Halsey became one of the best known officers in the navy. He was an aggressive, down-to-earth warrior whom the press would flamboyantly nickname “Bull.” Fletcher was mentioned acting under his orders in attacks on Jaluit and Makin. Combined Fleet reacted to the surprise assault with “acute embarrassment” over the failure to detect the U.S. carriers and a feeble response thought to have just damaged a cruiser. Yamamoto hurled Nagumo’s three carriers at Truk in pursuit of the raiders, but on 2 February recalled them when it became evident they got clean away. Japan dismissed the raids as “motivated largely by considerations of American internal politics, public opinion and morale.” At least some officers felt secretly relieved Tokyo was not attacked. While the Akagi and Kaga proceeded to Palau to join the Sōryū and Hiryū in the Southern Area, the Zuikaku left Truk on 9 February for Yokosuka. Thus Yamamoto quietly redeployed the 5th Carrier Division of Shōkaku and Zuikaku to the homeland. Worry over possible U.S. carrier attacks was at least a factor in keeping them back.27
With the Yorktown’s much-anticipated return to the Pacific after nearly a year, three carriers reposed within the confines of Pearl Harbor for the first time in many months. Only the Lexington was at sea, bound for the remote South Pacific. Growing more confident about the ability of his radio intelligence to predict enemy threats, Nimitz risked temporary immobilization of most of his striking force. The giant Saratoga sulked in dry dock number two, the big torpedo gash in her port side patched sufficiently to see her to Bremerton for permanent repairs. However, she could not return to combat until June at the earliest, and a great deal might happen in four months. The Enterprise and Yorktown would remain at Pearl only a short time for normal upkeep before heading out to fight again. The brief sojourn gave Halsey and Fletcher the chance to evaluate the efficiency of their ships, aircraft, and men in the Pacific Fleet’s first counterattack. For the most part the results pleased everyone. Halsey declared the achievement of the Enterprise “justifies the highest hopes heretofore held regarding the effectiveness of [carriers] when properly employed.” Concerns were raised about ship’s gunnery. Antiaircraft, in particular, was slow to get on target and erratic, but radar fire control and better training would cure that. Impressed by the “ferocity” of the enemy’s land-based bombers, Halsey felt a sort of perverse pride that Japanese bluejackets flew those planes instead of the Imperial Army Air Force. His attacks ruined by poor weather, Fletcher could add little to the recommendations of his more colorful colleague. He was pleased with Buckmaster’s excellent seamanship and could ask for no better men to lead into battle.28