At 1338 after recovering the first strike, Fletcher turned southwest in accordance with his belief the battle would shift westward and to reduce the distance to Crace’s Support Group racing toward Jomard Passage. The Yorktown and Lexington required another thirty to forty minutes to finish rearming and refueling planes, leaving a narrow window of opportunity to attack again before sundown. The swiftly deteriorating weather further restricted options. One enemy carrier was gone, but the whereabouts of the other two remained undetermined. Fletcher consulted Fitch, who advised at 1406 that the best he could offer was another go at the Deboyne area, although “target prospects are poor.” Should Fletcher authorize the strike, it must depart by 1430. If there were no targets near Deboyne, Fitch recommended it return via Jomard Passage, “if practicable,” and “attack any ships trying to squeeze through.” Sherman strongly favored this course of action. In the meantime Fletcher asked the senior Yorktown aviators whether they wanted to return to Deboyne, keeping in mind that the 5th Carrier Division might be nearby and that it knew where TF-17 was. Burch recalled: “I told them I didn’t think so if there were other carriers about.” The consensus was the Yorktown should keep her strike group on board, ready to go, while other commands located the enemy flattops. Fletcher himself considered the chance of “finding a suitable objective near the scene of the morning attack was not great.” That was correct. Nearly all of Gotō’s MO Attack Force withdrew far out of attack range. Had Fletcher gone ahead with a second strike to Deboyne, his aviators might only have sighted Kajioka’s light cruiser Yūbari and five destroyers steaming southeast to reinforce Gotō for a possible night battle off Rossel.1
Given the decision to concentrate on the two remaining carriers, the question became what, if anything, Fletcher could or should do to help find and attack them before sundown. Sherman thought the Yorktown should search again, but there is no evidence Fitch ever suggested that to Fletcher. For his own part, Biard argued to Fletcher that his reading of the radio intelligence placed the 5th Carrier Division somewhere to the east, and that it had already hit the Fueling Group. He beseeched Fletcher to dispatch a search-and-attack mission to eastward but could offer no specific course to fly or a distance to travel. Again Biard’s surmise was correct—at 1338 MO Striking Force was 235 miles southeast of TF-17—but not necessarily his fervent advice. Fletcher declined Biard’s recommendations. Nothing further had been heard from the Neosho and Sims. (Neither ship ever radioed a distress message before one was crippled and the other sunk.) Fletcher also knew from his search pilots that the weather to eastward was poor, while the overcast and frequent squalls blanketed TF-17. The remaining daylight left no time for a separate search and follow-up strike. Lacking a more definite objective, even a straight search-and-attack mission would literally be a dangerous shot in the dark.2
At 1429 Fletcher informed Fitch and Kinkaid: “Will hold off awaiting information from Army hoping to repeat in the morning this day’s excellent work.” He would head southwest until dark, then west, intending by daylight on 8 May to be only eighty-five miles south of China Strait at the east tip of New Guinea. From there he could flank the direct enemy route to Port Moresby and execute another “search and attack.” Fletcher requested comment. “Concur,” Fitch replied at 1450, “had arrived at same opinion for tomorrow’s operation.” Sherman certainly did not agree. “We should have either made another attack or sent out a search.” Because Fletcher did not allow Fitch to “use his own judgment in running the air operations, nothing was accomplished in the way of either an attack or a search on the afternoon of the 7th.” Yet his own action report described the weather as “squally, with about 90% overcast, frequent rain squalls, in which ceiling and visibility were zero.” Later Kinkaid, as well as Bates and Morison, declared sound Fletcher’s decision to sit tight.3
Early on the afternoon of 7 May Fletcher realized the Japanese showed high interest in the waters to the west of TF-17. At 1242 the Lexington’s radar disclosed a large group of planes seventy-five miles northwest and headed southwest. This “must have been the Japanese attack group looking for us.” Twelve torpedo-armed Type 1 land attack planes from Rabaul, escorted by eleven Zeros from Lae, combed the waters near Rossel for the U.S. carrier force. Nineteen Type 96 land attack planes sortied south from Rabaul on a separate strike seeking Allied ships in the Louisiades. At 1320 Leary radioed the text of an intercepted message that placed a U.S. force (one carrier, four cruisers, and four destroyers) 170 miles southwest (241 degrees) of Rossel. That was nowhere near TF-17. Biard likewise intercepted messages relating to a target that could not be TF-17. One noted, “Sky over enemy clear visibility 100 kilometers,” certainly not the darkening skies over TF-17. At 1449 Biard related how a Japanese plane crowed: “Have sunk a battleship.” Fletcher’s growing concern over the safety of Crace’s Support Group certainly figured in his decision to head toward China Strait. Crace justified that worry with a 1526 message announcing that twenty-seven bombers just attacked him. “Consider fighters to be essential if my object is to be attained.”4
Crace anticipated surface action as he approached the Louisiades that morning.5 Unlike Fletcher, Crace copied the search summaries broadcast by air headquarters at Townsville and knew an hour earlier that Horgan’s B-17s found a large force with a carrier off Misima, only 120 miles northwest of the Support Group. He could not break the Yorktown’s enciphered air contact reports and hence did not know of the contacts made by Taylor and Nielsen. Like Fletcher, he realized that the enemy force discovered off Misima could just as easily skip Jomard Passage in favor of exiting the reef barrier at China Strait at the western end. At 0930 he turned west to steer forty miles south of Jomard Passage, from where he could watch the pass and keep going west should the Japanese make for China Strait. Late that morning he heard the TF-17 plane rejoice, “We got the carrier good,” and assumed TF-17 blasted the carrier off Misima. The lack of updated news from Sowespac on Japanese movements in the Louisiades was a great concern. To make sure the convoy did not indeed slip past, he resolved to continue west to cover China Strait.
Unlike the rest of TF-17, the Support Group enjoyed the mixed blessing and danger of clear skies. Continued neglect by the Japanese was too much to expect. At 1345 the Chicago’s CXAM radar detected a large bogey twenty-eight miles southeast; twelve minutes later it materialized into about a dozen single-engine planes roaring up from astern at low altitude. The ships fired as they went past on roughly parallel westward course. The intruders were the eleven Zero fighters released from escort duty a few minutes before. They just stumbled on the Support Group, but lacking radios (land-based Zeros had them removed), they could not tell anyone. A few minutes later an orphaned Yorktown SBD Dauntless from the strike wandered overhead and flashed a request for the bearing and distance to TF-17. Crace had no idea, so he pointed the way west to Port Moresby.6
At 1415, as the Support Group passed forty miles south of Jomard, the Chicago’s radar picked up one contact seventy-five miles southwest and closing, and soon afterward another bogey forty-five miles northeast, also inbound. Just as Crace contemplated becoming the meat in a Japanese sandwich, the westerly strike group abruptly arrived. Sunlight reflecting off polished surfaces revealed a dozen twin-engine bombers racing in down low for a whirlwind torpedo attack off the port bow. The strike, conscious of dwindling fuel, settled for the “battleships.” Crace turned away as the attackers concentrated on the Australia in the center. Antiaircraft fire knocked down the leader and disconcerted the others, who released their fish too far out. The nearest torpedo missed the Australia by only ten yards. Sweeping past the ships at close range, the aircraft suffered for their audacity. Allied gunners claimed five bombers and actually splashed four. A fifth later crashed. The attackers showed more heart than head. Crace accurately described their strike as “most determined,” but “fortunately badly delivered.” The Japanese strike assessment matched its poor execution. The survivors jubilantly claimed a California-class battleship sunk and at least two hits on a Warspite-class battleship.
At 1443 after the torpedo attack ceased, ship lookouts noticed level bombers high in the skies overhead. The nineteen land attack planes sneaked in from up sun and astern. Many near misses straddled the Australia. The aviators thought several bombs left a cruiser in sinking condition, but their attack caused no damage. To cap off an exciting half hour, three more level bombers appeared far above at 1457. Three “friendly” B-17 Fortresses under Capt. John A. Roberts hunted the enemy convoy and thought they found it. They apparently aimed at the Australia, but their bombs fell closer to the Farragut. Roberts claimed a large transport set on fire. The army flyers compounded their error of ship identification with misleading contact reports that deceived Fletcher and Crace. The last act added a bit of farce to an excellent performance by Crace and his ships in repelling a strong air attack despite lacking fighter cover.7
Crace’s 1526 message gave his position sixty miles southwest of Jomard Passage. He intended by dawn on 8 May to take station southeast of New Guinea. After 1540 additional information indicated the enemy might have temporarily postponed the Port Moresby operation, or at least given up on Jomard Passage in favor of China Strait. Comsowespac advised that aircraft sighting reports placed nine ships fifty miles north of Deboyne at 1110 and headed northwest. Ten other ships, position not given, steamed in the same direction. Crace evidently knew this even earlier, by 1450, and factored that into his decision to retire south, then southwest during the night. He recognized grave danger for no substantial benefit if he interposed himself between the dueling flattops and preferred to be in position to deal with any forces that might get past Fletcher and threaten Moresby.8
The weather around TF-17 further decayed. Squalls repeatedly hid the two carriers from each other and made it rough for the combat air patrol fighters and anti-torpedoplane SBDs to maintain station. “Twas a rugged afternoon to be flying the wily Wildcat.” With Fitch’s permission, the two carriers recovered their anti-torpedo SBDs and the cruisers their SOCs on antisubmarine patrol. Fitch likewise rotated his fighters, deploying a dozen Wildcats as combat air patrol and holding the rest ready to scramble. Deep in thought about the next day’s prospects, Fletcher told him at 1549 to raise the planned Point Option speed on 8 May from ten to fifteen knots because of the anticipated wind direction. Fitch followed at 1605 with his plans for the next day’s air operations. Starting at dawn from Fletcher’s designated start position south of China Straits, the Lex SBDs were to search 010–100 degrees to three hundred miles, and thus blanket the Louisiades and the waters to the north and east. Obviously Fitch sought carriers north of the reef barrier, but he took precautions if any ventured south of Rossel or its western neighbor Tagula. Once the search located a target, the Yorktown was to launch her strike group first, the Lexington fifteen minutes later, for the favored “wave attack.” Fitch reserved half the fighters for combat air patrol and later told the Yorktown to retain eight SBDs for anti-torpedo-plane patrol. Aircraft payloads were to be the same as on the seventh. That raised the same dilemma for Arnold and Buckmaster, with the same result that again all Yorktown SBDs (not just VB-5) ended up armed with 1,000-pound bombs in defiance of Fitch’s wishes.9
Two factors intruded on Fletcher’s thinking regarding the probable course of operations on 8 May. At 1518 a station using the Neosho’s call sign began sending in plain language the word “Sinking.” That was the first heard from her since 1021, when she reported being bombed by three planes. The logical assumption, made by both Nimitz and Fletcher, was that the fatal attack had just occurred. They did not know that it took the crippled oiler three hours to rig the emergency generator to send the distress message. Thus the Tippecanoe, busy giving the last of her fuel to the convoy at Efate, became the only fleet oiler available to TF-17. At 1645 Cincpac alerted the Tippecanoe that the Neosho might have been sunk and warned of a Japanese sub off Nouméa. The Tippecanoe was to “take all possible precautions” in carrying out plans to refuel TF-17. “If Neosho lost[,] fuel in [the chartered tanker] E. J. Henry vital to continued operations.” It had just been learned that the E. J. Henry only reached Suva that noon, three days later than anticipated. Therefore she would need several days to discharge part of her cargo ashore and come on to Nouméa to refill the Tippecanoe. At 1718 the Neosho radioed that she had been “heavily bombed,” gave a position that was 275 miles southeast of TF-17, and stated she was drifting northwest while sinking. The Sims was already gone. Fitch suggested, and Fletcher soon agreed, that a destroyer be detached eastward away from TF-17, both to send important radio messages and succor the Neosho. Fletcher then received word of trouble closer at hand. At 1700 Comsowespac warned that at 1435 three warships and three transports were twenty-five miles southwest of Jomard Passage. That was only forty-five miles northeast of the position Crace gave after being bombed a few minutes later. Fletcher now wondered whether Crace had been driven off by air attack and that some Japanese ships had got through Jomard after all. At 1721 he informed Fitch: “I expect situation has changed and most of Japs will be through the pass headed for Moresby tomorrow. Therefore propose to head west tonight and suggest you search to northward and that option be west at speed eight.” The loss of the Neosho “upsets our logistics,” making it necessary to slow down and conserve fuel “in order remain on job a few days longer.” Fletcher’s prudence in fueling certainly proved justified.10
Fletcher thought a carrier had to be supporting the Japanese ships discovered south of Jomard Passage. He did not know (at least for a while) that the “enemy” force was actually the Support Group misreported by Roberts’s B-17s. Crace likewise assessed reports, including one from Townsville that Fletcher never received, that located enemy ships south of Jomard. He considered whether to force a night battle, intercept nearer to dawn, or just wait until the next morning to find the enemy. Before he settled on one of these unpromising options, he deduced that the report indeed referred to his own force, and that the nearest Japanese ships were safely north of the Louisiade barrier. Crace marveled at the lack of navigational and recognition skills of his land-based air support and hoped they would not pay him a similar visit on the eighth. His own fuel situation was not encouraging, particularly for the Hobart and the destroyers. If nothing more turned up by next morning, he intended to fuel destroyers while awaiting developments. Crace heard occasional aircraft-related transmissions from TF-17, but learned nothing of value. “I had received no information from [Fletcher] regarding his position, his intentions or what had been achieved during the day.” He assumed that TF-17 was nearby to the east and hoped that Fletcher would find a way the next morning to let him know what was happening. “The attacks we received were probably intended for the Carriers and if this is the case some good had been achieved.” Crace did not know the half of it. Japanese blunders prevented both Takagi’s MO Striking Force and the Rabaul land-based air from dealing with Fletcher’s carriers.11
After 1100 the Japanese completely lost touch of Fletcher’s carriers in the bad weather southeast of Rossel. Instead they bent all their efforts toward Crace’s Support Group that search planes quickly discovered south of the Louisiades and promoted as the enemy main body. The host of shadowers, including float planes from Deboyne, land attack planes from Rabaul, and even a Tulagi-based flying boat, continuously tracked Crace as he steamed west but confused the Japanese commanders with their gross errors. Somehow these searchers placed battleships and even carriers with Crace’s group, while shoddy navigational work conveyed the impression that the “main body” itself had split into two groups. As a result Inoue repeatedly commanded Takagi’s MO Striking Force to assail the enemy carrier force off the Louisiades. However, two circumstances restrained Takagi from dashing westward to get within range. First he must turn away to the southeast into the wind to conduct air operations. Second, he had to await the return of the strike wasted against the Neosho and Sims, and every minute of delay permitted the U.S. carrier force south of the Louisiades to edge farther away. At noon Hara informed Takagi that he could launch a second strike at 1400 for a late afternoon attack. From 1230 to 1300 most of the original morning group landed back on board, but the Zuikaku Carrier Bomber Squadron got lost in the bad weather surrounding MO Striking Force. Takagi would wait no longer. He started west at 1330 hoping that radio homing would guide the errant aircraft back.12
By 1400 with the Zuikaku carrier bombers still floundering in the clouds nearby, Hara shelved the afternoon attack because his planes could not possibly strike the target and return before sunset. Unlike Fletcher he enjoyed some night carrier air capability, so he mulled a night strike by his dive bombers and torpedo planes. Given that most of the aviators had little night carrier flight time, his staff talked him into recommending to Takagi that only the most experienced crews should attack. The erroneous sighting reports placed the enemy battleship group about 380 miles west and the enemy carriers fifty miles beyond, both headed away at twenty knots. That vast distance compelled a chastened Takagi to advise Inoue at 1500 that MO Striking Force would not attack again that day. Unbeknownst to the Japanese, the actual distance between MO Striking Force and Fletcher’s carriers was less than 250 miles. A few minutes later Hara learned that one of the Deboyne search planes had radioed: “The enemy has changed course.” He reckoned that if the U.S. ships held the new course of 120 degrees for the next several hours (a big “if”), his elite strike group could reach them after dark. Takagi gave his permission. Beginning at 1515 eight carrier attack planes swept two hundred miles west to ensure no previously undiscovered task force lay ahead. They were to return at sundown. After they departed, the missing Zuikaku carrier bombers finally landed after a harrowing seven-hour mission. Several exhausted crews learned they were going out again into the murk. At 1600 Hara estimated the distance to the U.S. carrier group (if it had kept coming southeast) had decreased to 360 miles. That could drop to a manageable two hundred miles by 1830 if both sides continued on course and maintained speed. At 1615 Commander Takahashi departed with twelve Type 99 carrier bombers and fifteen Type 97 carrier planes with orders to fly 277 degrees to 280 miles. Takahashi expected to find the U.S. carriers under clear skies but after dark, so there would be no defending fighters. MO Striking Force’s lunge to the west should reduce their return leg to well under two hundred miles. Takagi and Hara took a vast risk with their best men.13
The shadowers that bedeviled TF-17 that morning took a break, but at 1623 a new bogey popped up on radar eighteen miles southwest. Combat air patrol fighters could not run it down in the gray skies, even after Yorktown lookouts briefly sighted a seaplane. At 1647 the snooper disappeared northward off the screen. Evidently it was a Deboyne-based float plane that never radioed a report, or at least one that was ever logged. Possibly its crew, thinking they had spotted MO Striking Force because the Americans were supposed to be much farther west, chose not to break radio silence. The lack of a report from the search plane proved a tremendous break for Fletcher. Had Takagi and Hara learned of it, they could have warned Takahashi, who unwittingly neared TF-17. At the same time the Japanese carrier search pattern fell just short of contacting Fletcher.14
An entry in Lt. Cdr. Phillip F. Fitz-Gerald’s diary aptly recorded the attitude in TF-17 as the sun dipped toward the horizon: “We had just about settled in for the night and congratulated ourselves that we had gotten away scot free.” At 1745, near to sundown, the Lexington’s radar picked up three groups of aircraft twenty-two to twenty-eight miles southeast. Two minutes later the Yorktown likewise registered a large contact eighteen miles southeast. At the same time the Lex reported another big group forty-eight miles southeast approaching at low altitude. This looked like the long awaited carrier counterattack. The dozen combat air patrol fighters were low on fuel. For a distant intercept Gill, the FDO, selected only those four led by Lt. Cdr. Paul H. Ramsey, the commanding officer of VF-2. Fletcher turned southeast into the wind to scramble the reserve fighters. Beginning at 1750 the Yorktown launched twelve and the Lexington six Wildcats, raising the combat air patrol to thirty fighters. In the past two weeks Lt. Cdr. James H. Flatley Jr., an outstanding fighter leader who recently became VF-42 executive officer, had not warmed to the stern, rather aloof Buckmaster. He changed his mind that evening when he saw the usually undemonstrative Yorktown captain up on the bridge vigorously shaking his fist toward the enemy and exhorting his pilots. Gill dispatched Flatley’s seven F4Fs to support Ramsey and jockeyed the fighters southwest out ahead of the enemy group crossing from east to west thirty miles south of TF-17. The weather was hazy with a heavy overcast. At 1803 Ramsey executed a brilliant ambush of nine planes (he thought Zero fighters) caught low over the water and claimed five victories, while Flatley’s flight glimpsed two other low-flying enemy groups in the clouds. Two F4Fs broke off to chase some torpedo planes and shot down two. The rest ganged up on a lone dive bomber.15
The scattered, but victorious, F4Fs started back toward the ships with the prospect of night carrier landings. Committed to steaming into the wind until all of his fighters were back on board, Fletcher steadied on course 145 degrees at twenty-five knots. He and Fitch knew little of what just transpired other than the pilots excitedly radioed that they scored several kills. However, the radio intelligence teams in the Yorktown and Lexington, as well as Hypo itself at Pearl, picked up remarkable enemy aircraft radio transmissions sent mostly in plain language. Things obviously were not going well for the Japanese. One crew lamented at 1803: “Attack squadron has been annihilated by enemy fighters.” In another instance the pilot was killed and the observer in the middle seat took control of the aircraft. Thinking the target was still far ahead, Takahashi was completely unprepared for fighters swooping into his midst. In a large, one-sided triumph, the combat air patrol splashed seven carrier attack planes (Ramsey’s “Zero fighters”) and one carrier bomber; another carrier attack plane (the one piloted by the observer) was badly damaged. Out to the west beyond TF-17, a shaken Takahashi aborted the mission, had the survivors drop their payloads, and tried to reassemble the group for the flight home.16
At sundown the U.S. carriers started recovering fighters. The process went slowly as several pilots hesitantly made their first night landings. More bogeys appeared on radar. The combat air patrol went looking for them, but without success. Fletcher was wary. Unaware the enemy strike was toothless, he warned TF-17 at 1840, “Be on alert for enemy torpedo plane attack.” In the growing darkness the carriers turned on their landing lights, while impatient Wildcats buzzed overhead in the landing circle. Elements of the battered strike group straggled past TF-17. At 1850 three strange aircraft showing running lights flew past the Yorktown’s starboard side and used a hand-held light to blink a message in Morse code. In the fading light Lt. (jg) Brainard Macomber of VF-42 recognized them as foes and chased them away. By 1857 the Lex had completed recovering all her fighters but one, while a half-dozen Yorktown F4Fs still orbited the task force. After the destroyer Dewey observed suspicious aircraft with rounded wingtips, Captain Early (Comdesron One in the Phelps) queried Fletcher on TBS whether any planes other than square-winged fighters were aloft. Before the Yorktown could respond negative, the intruders flashed out another recognition query. Turning on their running lights as if they intended to land, they circled in the direction opposite to the friendly planes. About 1909 some destroyers opened fire, followed by the Minneapolis and Astoria. As tracers laced through the sky, both Sherman (Lexington) and Hoover (Comdesron Two) sternly ordered their ships not to join in. At 1910 the Yorktown’s entire starboard antiaircraft battery “went off like a fire cracker,” prompting one harassed VF-42 pilot to radio: “What are you shooting at me for? What have I done now?” Fletcher maneuvered radically to avoid attack, but the enemy fled into the darkness. The antiaircraft fire swiftly stopped, and the scattered F4Fs gingerly returned. It was a very bizarre moment that crowned a remarkable day.17
With Japanese planes flocking to TF-17 and mistakenly trying to land, at least one enemy carrier, perhaps more, had to be nearby, but where? Seemingly it had to be different from the carrier or carriers that had attacked the Neosho and Sims that afternoon. Sowespac again reported five transports just south of Jomard Passage, but all other indications were that the rest of the invasion force remained north of the Louisiades. MacArthur also placed the converted carrier Kasuga Maru at Queen Carola anchorage off Buka that afternoon. For the time being Fletcher delayed going west. Southeast, where the Japanese strike group was first detected, was as good a direction as any to go temporarily. He kept his options open until the situation cleared, and he could figure how to retaliate either that night with a surface attack or the next dawn with aircraft.18
TF-17 resumed landing planes, the last at 1930, but three Wildcats were missing. By an unfortunate coincidence two of the pilots shared the surname Baker: Lt. (jg) Paul G. Baker from VF-2 and Ens. John D. Baker of VF-42. Almost certainly Paul Baker died ninety minutes before during Ramsey’s ambush, but John Baker returned to the task force only to be driven off to the northeast by the sudden antiaircraft barrage. By the time John Baker’s identity was realized and Gill passed control to Pederson in the Yorktown, his F4F had disappeared off the radar screen. Pederson needed to get him back on radar so he could coach him back to the ship. Hearing of Baker’s plight, Fletcher went up to air plot. Despite his worry over enemy carriers he gave Pederson permission to use the radio to keep trying to reach Baker. Pederson thought Fletcher “willing to do anything to try to get our pilot back.” Unfortunately Pederson never steered the errant F4F back onto radar. Finally at 2028 he had to give Baker the course to the nearest land. “I remember the talker with me was practically in tears when I had to tell the pilot good-bye and Good Luck.” John Baker was never found.19
In the meantime Biard continued relaying to Fletcher the messages intercepted from the Japanese strike group. In the Lexington Fullinwider did the same for Fitch. Lt. Cdr. Clarence C. Ray, the Yorktown communications officer, recalled, “The air was full of their conversation trying to get home and aboard.” One of Biard’s intercepts received at 1903 gave an all too accurate position for TF-17 (bearing 160 degrees and 110 miles from Rossel), so not all enemy aircrew were befuddled. At 1900 another aircraft said it would “arrive” at 1940. Had it been one that buzzed TF-17, its carrier might be seventy to a hundred miles away, direction unknown. That seemed to be that case at 1939, when another plane requested its carrier turn on the lights. At 2003 an aircraft advised: “I see you.” A few minutes later the observer piloting his plane requested, then demanded, that a searchlight be shone on the sea so he could try a water landing. The revealing transmissions lasted until about 2130. They appeared to show two carriers differentiated by their call signs. In addition to communicating directly with the aircraft, these ships also used high-frequency transmissions as radio homing beacons, but TF-17 lacked proper receivers capable of taking a bearing on such transmissions. Fletcher and Buckmaster guessed the enemy carriers might be up as far as 140–150 miles either to the east or west. The best that Cincpac could offer later was a bearing (233 degrees) from Oahu, which put the carriers somewhere off to the east. Late that night Pearl also provided a double radio fix (from Oahu and Samoa) that moved the source of the homing signals nearer toward San Cristóbal Island in the southern Solomons. That was too far east of TF-17 to be accurate, but again pointed east. Biard with his characteristic demeaning of Fletcher described that in reply to one of his reports, “The Admiral looked up at me with the most stupidly sheepish look I have ever seen on a naval officer’s face and said to me, almost apologetically . . . ‘you know—I didn’t think they were that aggressive.’” Perhaps Fletcher actually said or meant ‘foolhardy,’ for Biard and others estimated the enemy might have lost fifteen or twenty aircraft that night.20
Not only did Hara’s night strike group contact the enemy earlier than anticipated, but defending fighters also made mincemeat of it. Takagi agreed to Hara’s recommendation that MO Striking Force assume a special formation to facilitate recovery of the strike. The Shōkaku and Zuikaku deployed abreast, while ahead off to starboard the two heavy cruisers aimed searchlights across their bows and destroyers on both quarters shined their searchlights forward to demarcate the flanks. Takagi could risk illuminating MO Striking Force for as long as it took to recover his planes, because he (unlike Fletcher) had a pretty good idea of the position of the nearest enemy ships. At 2000 when the first strike plane landed, the two carrier forces were about one hundred miles apart. Thereafter the distance between them increased as Takagi steamed east and Fletcher southeast.21
At 2151 Fitch informed Fletcher by TBS: “Presence of enemy planes during recovery of our fighters and analysis of later radar plots indicate enemy carrier or carriers about thirty miles bearing 090 at 1930.” He also warned that the Japanese carriers might have “excellent” high frequency radio direction finders. Thirty miles east? The Lexington’s radar tracked the strike planes as they circled thirty miles away and seemed to disappear one by one as if landing. The reason why at least some Japanese planes circled was the U.S. fighter director transmissions jammed their radio homing signals. Cued by Fullinwider’s findings, Fitch concluded the aircraft had to belong to the 5th Carrier Division, “which until that time had been unaccounted for.” Yet Fitch never explained why he waited two-and-a-half hours before forwarding such vital information to Fletcher. Perhaps he thought the Yorktown’s radar registered the same activity. Stroop, Fitch’s flag secretary, urged that destroyers execute a night torpedo attack, but Fitch believed the enemy was probably already too far away and too hard to find. Sherman reached the opposite conclusion. He strongly regretted the failure to hunt the enemy carriers that night, not only with destroyers, but also the VT-2 TBDs, which were, he wrote, “Fully qualified in night carrier operations” and “capable of making such an attack.” In 1950 he complained that had Fletcher given Fitch “complete freedom of action, it is probable such an attack would have been launched, and it might have made a tremendous difference in the next day’s events.” However, Sherman’s later assertions originated from hindsight. There is no evidence he seriously proposed to Fitch to use VT-2 that night. Nothing of the sort appeared in any action reports or, more importantly, in Sherman’s reconstructed diary. Nor did Stroop mention it in his oral history. There were also serious practical objections. Simply wringing out the TBDs from the Lexington’s crowded flight deck would have been a nightmare. Sherman would have had to launch all the SBDs and some of the fighters just to clear the deck for their takeoffs. The Japanese were actually much farther away than thirty miles, and there is no indication the short-ranged TBDs would have ever found them.22
In fact Fitch’s belated revelation startled Fletcher. The Yorktown’s only radar contact at 1930 was John Baker’s missing Wildcat, which disappeared soon afterward. With the enemy striking force apparently so close (or least it was said to be close nearly three hours before), Fletcher considered whether to unleash Kinkaid’s cruiser group, or even just the destroyers, to eastward for a night surface attack. TF-17 had five heavy cruisers and eight destroyers. The carriers required at least two or three destroyers as a screen. Those destroyers assigned to the surface attack group would have to spread out ahead of the cruisers in a scouting line hoping to pick up enemy ships on radar. Rejecting a night surface strike, Fletcher resolved to keep his force together to battle the Japanese carriers the next morning. Kinkaid completely concurred. So, later, did Nimitz, who wrote in his endorsement of Fletcher’s report that the “decision not to attempt such an attack was sound and that [Fletcher] was correct in not dispersing his forces at that particular time when he did not know the composition of the enemy force.” There were several reasons why a night surface attack might not have been wise in that instance. Even if Fitch’s surmise was correct, since 1930 the Japanese could have gone seventy-five miles in nearly any direction. They might not be found before dawn, at which time the surface attack group would be isolated and highly vulnerable to air attack. At the same time the carriers might sorely miss their antiaircraft protection. Moreover, high-speed steaming would cost a great deal of fuel oil that TF-17 could not spare after losing the Neosho.23
Fletcher had not only considered a night surface battle, but also a night air strike. Burch strongly suggested that the SBDs and TBDs attack, but that was rejected because of the group’s lack of night flying experience. Much later Vice Adm. Turner Caldwell, the former VS-5 executive officer, recalled, “In view of the weather we recommended against, and [Fletcher] did not insist. It was probably just as well. Some of us would have been surely lost, and at that time we had no doctrine nor training for night combat, although everyone was checked out in night landings.” Caldwell also offered a mature appraisal of Fletcher seasoned by his own subsequent command perspective. At the time the young tigers “did not have much respect for Fletcher, as he was indecisive and knew little about aviation, and we thought he could have used us better.” However, “I now understand he did his best, and given the experience level of the time did as well as anyone else could have done.”24
That evening at Rabaul a bemused Inoue tried to fathom the crushing setbacks inflicted on his MO Operation. He bore the shame of losing the first carrier or major warship of any kind. Despite the cunning deployment of the MO Striking Force and a rich harvest of search contacts, decisive victory south of the Louisiades had eluded him. Inoue postponed the Port Moresby landings two days to 12 May (X+2 Day). Yamamoto assented. Because Gotō had miscalculated time and distance, the 6th Cruiser Division and Kajioka’s 6th Destroyer Squadron never reached a position from which to execute the night surface attack. Consequently Inoue detached two of Gotō’s heavy cruisers to reinforce the MO Striking Force and told him to regroup the rest of MO Attack Force north of the Louisiades. Once the path was clear they could start for Moresby again. Inoue directed Takagi to reach a point 110 miles south-southeast of Rossel at dawn on 8 May. From there MO Striking Force should finally catch and sink the troublesome carriers and open the way to Moresby. From 1945 to 2200 while landing the night strike, Takagi steamed eastward away from the Allied task forces. He never seriously contemplated a night surface attack against the U.S. ships. Remarkably in a great demonstration of Japanese night carrier skill, eighteen of twenty-seven aircraft made it back on board Hara’s carriers. But the loss of eight carrier attack planes and their highly experienced crews on a fruitless attack seriously harmed the 5th Carrier Division’s capability for effective torpedo attack. Looking ahead to battle on the eighth, Hara recommended to Takagi that MO Striking Force keep well to the east or even head south in order to flank the U.S. carrier force lurking south of the Louisiades. Takagi rejected that advice. Noting that Inoue’s prescribed dawn position was quite close to the enemy’s last known location, Hara was concerned that insufficient separation would force the 5th Carrier Division to search in nearly all directions. He suggested that the dawn search point be shifted 120 miles northward. The U.S. carriers would never venture so far north, so the search could be concentrated to southward to free up more carrier attack planes for attack. Takagi did agree to that. “This will aid us so that we will not fail to spot the enemy quickly, overtake and destroy him.” He set a new dawn position about 140 miles northeast of Rossel and 160 miles northeast of Inoue’s original point. The 2nd Section (Kinugasa and Furutaka) from the 6th Cruiser Division was to join Takagi there soon after dawn.25
After the situation finally calmed toward midnight, Fletcher and Fitch laid out their battle plan for the next morning. Fitch signaled: “Agree our mission destruction carriers possibly two carriers in this area one definitely in immediate area.” It was not feasible, given that proximity, to guarantee much separation of the two opposing carrier forces during the night. Consequently he recommended a full 360-degree dawn search by SBDs from the Lexington, the duty carrier on the eighth. Because the Japanese could maneuver to close aboard in any quadrant during the night, he had no choice in the matter. The tactical situation resembled one in the 1940 Fleet Problem XXI, in which the Yorktown was “destroyed” due to the failure to conduct a similar full circle search. Given that TF-17 was moving southward, Fitch thought it adequate to set the northern semicircle at two hundred miles, the southern to 125 miles. He wanted the combat air patrol fighters and anti-torpedo-plane SBDs aloft fifteen minutes before sunrise and the attack groups ready to go. After steaming southeast all evening, Fletcher turned south shortly after midnight. At 0039 he replied to Fitch: “As usual I agree with you thoroughly. I will change course to west. Set your own course and speed Point Option.” At 0117 Fletcher came around to the west at fourteen knots. By that time TF-17 was 180 miles south of Rossel and hence some six hundred miles from Rabaul, near the extreme attack range of Japanese bombers. (At that time MO Striking Force was about 130 miles northeast of TF-17 and moving away.) Fletcher intended to proceed west until about sunrise, then move southeast into the prevailing wind and launch the dawn search. Thus he changed his mind about taking station south of the China Strait and preferred to go no farther west than about longitude 154° east, until he dealt once and for all with the Moresby striking force.26
Fletcher detailed the Monaghan, whose engines were ailing, to rescue the Neosho and Sims survivors and take them to Nouméa. Once well away from TF-17, the destroyer radioed dispatches on his behalf, necessary because of fears of radio direction finding. One offered Cincpac a succinct summary of the day’s action. TF-17 sank a “large” carrier and a cruiser off Misima, while Crace operated east of Moresby. Enemy carrier planes retaliated against TF-17 at dusk but were repulsed after losing about nine planes. Six of his own planes were lost that day. Fletcher placed two enemy carriers “in vicinity,” and advised they were aware of “our exact position.” He would attack them in the morning, then fuel his destroyers and “continue [to] oppose enemy movement toward Moresby.” The loss of the Neosho’s fuel would “cripple” his “offensive action and may cause my withdrawal in a few days.” That night Leary stepped up by offering his two Royal Australian Navy oilers, the Bishopdale, which he said was at Efate, and the smaller Kurumba, located at Whitsunday Island off the northeast Australian coast 135 miles south of Townsville. Presumably the Tippecanoe could restock from the Bishopdale at Efate and bring the oil to Nouméa.27
That night Crace steered the Support Group to westward in accordance with what he told Fletcher. He remained concerned about not hearing from Fletcher that day and had no idea what befell TF-17. For his own part Fletcher drew up a message for Crace, evidently for the Monaghan to transmit, but there is no evidence it was ever sent. It described the action of Misima and explained: “Was proceeding your vicinity when attacked at sunset by carrier planes.” Crace was to “get close to Moresby for fighting protection but use your own discretion.” Fletcher also apologized for not joining the Support Group “at once.” Fortunately for Crace, the Kurumba was not too far away. That night he unwittingly avoided a potential attack due to more mistaken identity on the part of Japanese searchers. Based on the flying boat report of two enemy carriers discovered 185 miles southwest of Rossel, three Type 97 flying boats armed with torpedoes hunted Crace but never found him.28
On 7 May Admiral Ugaki, chief of staff of the Combined Fleet, tried to follow the battle in the Coral Sea from the many radio dispatches sent by Inoue and his principal subordinates. Surprised and depressed by the turn of events, he lamented in his diary why, “when we were able to foretell the enemy’s attack, could we not have contrived to more closely coordinate our forces?” It took time before the reason behind the failures of the seventh became apparent. In 1943 a committee of Japanese naval officers compiling battle lessons for the first year of the war analyzed in detail the reports of the land-based and carrier air searches rendered on 7 May. “Not only was it extremely difficult to assess them at the time,” they concluded, “but even today they are confusing.” The committee enumerated numerous gross errors in relating the numbers and types of ships present, as well as the navigation that determined their positions. “We cannot but shudder at this repeated failure.” The senior commanders were poorly served by the search effort that very likely prevented a decisive victory. Analysts and historians subsequently affirmed that verdict. Nimitz and Potter declared in their account of the Battle of the Coral Sea that the Japanese “failed to attack Fletcher on the 7th only because of a series of errors which by evening reached the fantastic.” In 1972 Vice Adm. H. S. Duckworth, the former Lexington air officer, asserted after reading the Japanese official account, “Without doubt, May 7 1942, vicinity of Coral Sea, was the most confused battle area in world history. A list of errors (by both sides) together with lucky decisions would be interesting.” The many errors (mostly Japanese) have been enumerated above. Fletcher’s “lucky” decisions were detaching Crace and keeping TF-17 in the bad weather southeast of Rossel. Neither luck nor the weather would cooperate on 8 May.29