Admiral Yamamoto permitted no deviation from his plan to destroy the Pacific Fleet in one huge battle.1 Deep embarrassment over the Doolittle raid only hardened his resolve. That insult also brought the army on board, not only for the MI and AL (Aleutian) operations, but also for the eventual invasion of Hawaii. From 28 April to 4 May chart maneuvers and critiques laid out the strategy for the Second Operational Phase. The MO Operation would terminate on 10 May with the capture of Port Moresby. Midway and the western Aleutians would fall in early June, followed in July by Fiji and Samoa (FS Operation). Assaults against the Hawaiian Islands could start perhaps in October. “As a result of the smooth progress of the first-phase operations,” Yamamoto explained, “we have established an invincible strategic position” that “cannot be maintained if we go on the defensive.” Instead, “in order to secure it tenaciously, we must keep on striking offensively at the enemy’s weak points one after another.” Now was the perfect time to draw out what was left of the enemy’s battleships, carriers, and cruisers and finish them off before numerous warships under construction could intervene. Imperial General Headquarters formally approved the MI Operation on 5 May.2
To the concurrent MI and AL operations the Combined Fleet committed more than two hundred ships (including ten carriers) and air units with an authorized strength of more than eight hundred aircraft. At their head was, as Walter Lord quipped, “A dazzling army of twenty admirals.” The Northern Force (Vice Adm. Hosogaya Boshirō, Fifth Fleet commander) was to invade Adak, Kiska, and Attu in the Aleutians. Rear Adm. Kakuta Kakuji’s 2nd Kidō Butai (2nd Striking Force) would provide carrier support with sixty-three planes of light carriers Ryūjō and the new Junyō. To capture Midway itself, Vice Adm. Kondō Nobutake’s Attack Force, built around his Second Fleet, received two fast battleships, eight heavy cruisers, light carrier Shōhō (twenty planes), a seaplane carrier, a converted seaplane tender, and two destroyer squadrons, as well as numerous transports and auxiliary ships. Admiral Nagumo’s elite First Air Fleet (1st Kidō Butai) included carriers Akagi, Kaga, Sōryū, Hiryū, Shōkaku, and Zuikaku, screened by two fast battleships, two heavy cruisers, and a destroyer squadron. Its authorized strength of 387 carrier planes would overwhelm Midway’s air strength, reduce its ground defenses, and open the way for the invasion. In line with his quest for victory through decisive battle, Yamamoto for the first time committed his entire battle line. The Main Force comprised the seven First Fleet battleships (including the Yamato), two destroyer squadrons, light carrier Hōshō (fifteen planes), and two fast seaplane carriers crammed with midget submarines and torpedo boats. The Main Body under Yamamoto would back up the attack on Midway, while the Guard Force, led by Vice Adm. Takasu Shirō (Commander, First Fleet), initially covered the Aleutians operation. Vice Adm. Tsukahara Nishizō’s Base Air Force (Eleventh Air Fleet) would furnish shore-based aircraft.3
On 8 May Combined Fleet planners made the changes necessary due to losses suffered in the Coral Sea and announced the timetable of events for the MI and AL Operations.4 Fletcher’s victory cost the MI Operation the Shōhō and Shōkaku. Light carrier Zuihō (twenty-four planes) would replace her sister Shōhō in Kondō’s Attack Force. Midway was to be invaded early on N-Day, 7 June (Tokyo time; 6 June Midway local time), the last significant moonlight for nearly a month. Inspired by Fletcher’s surprise 4 May carrier strike on Tulagi, the opening gambit now included a reprise of Operation K, the night reconnaissance and bombing of Pearl Harbor by flying boats in March. The object of the Second Operation K was to determine if Pearl Harbor contained the U.S. carriers and battleships. If they were not present, Combined Fleet could operate under heightened alert ready for any ambushes. A refueling rendezvous between the two flying boats and submarines was to take place the evening of 30 May (Hawaii local time) at French Frigate Shoals, northwest of the Hawaiian Islands. The flight could be rescheduled up to 2 June if necessary.5 Other subs from the Advance Force would scout ahead of the attack forces. On N-5 (2 June, Tokyo time; 1 June, Midway local time), a dozen subs were to assemble along two deployment lines positioned five hundred miles northwest and west of Oahu to watch for and attack U.S. heavy ships expected to hasten north from Pearl Harbor after the offensive began.
The 8 May Combined Fleet message also specified simultaneous carrier strikes at dawn on N-3 (4 June/3 June) by Kakuta against Dutch Harbor in the Aleutians and Nagumo against Midway. That would awaken the clueless Pacific Fleet to its danger and provoke the desired response. Nagumo’s prime objective was to surprise Midway’s aircraft on the ground. Later on N-3 Day, the lead element of the Midway assault force, coming east from Saipan, would penetrate Midway’s air search range from the southwest. Nagumo was to press his attacks the next two days until he destroyed Midway’s air force and softened up the island for invasion. On N-1 Day (6 June/5 June) Kondō would set up a seaplane base on tiny Kure Island fifty-five miles west of Midway, while Hosogaya landed troops on Adak and Kiska in the Aleutians. The Adak foray was merely a raid in force. The men were to withdraw and occupy Attu on N+5 (12 June/11 June). Before dawn on N-Day (7 June/6 June) five thousand elite naval and army troops would storm Midway. If things went as planned, special pioneer troops would restore the airstrip to operation yet that day for the first of thirty-six Zero fighters being transported on the carriers, and nine land attack planes staging in from Wake. Six flying boats would also deploy there.
With the fall of Midway, the “decisive fleet battle” phase (the vital aspect of the MI Operation) would commence. The huge train of oilers could support the Combined Fleet for one additional week in the eastern Pacific. Japanese forces would regroup to deal with the U.S. Fleet that would only just be flushed out of Pearl. The decisive battle force was to deploy in a giant rectangle. Yamamoto’s Main Body (the three most powerful battleships) would take station six hundred miles northwest of Midway, with Nagumo’s six carriers three hundred miles east. Scurrying down from the Aleutians to form the northern corners of the box, Takasu’s four Guard Force battleships were to move five hundred miles north of Yamamoto, while Kakuta’s 2nd Kidō Butai (reinforced by the Zuihō from Kondō) took the corresponding slot five hundred miles north of Nagumo. The balance of Kondō’s Attack Force would cover Midway and serve as bait. The staff drew up specific responses depending on exactly where the U.S. ships showed up, either to the south, north, or east. If as hoped, the Pacific Fleet drew up in full array off Midway, Kakuta was to race south to join Nagumo and attack, while Takasu linked up with Yamamoto. After subs and carrier aircraft wore down the Americans, Yamamoto’s big guns would finish them off.
Following the inevitable annihilation of the Pacific Fleet, Yamamoto’s battleship force would return to Japan. Planning would start in earnest for the invasion of Hawaii, possibly late that year. Meanwhile, the isolation of Australia through the conquest of the South Pacific would be complete. On 15–20 June Kondō’s Attack Force and Nagumo’s five 1st Kidō Butai carriers were to assemble at Truk to regroup for the invasions of Fiji and Samoa, set for July by the troops of the newly activated 17th Army. Inoue and the 17th Army would also seize New Caledonia and Port Moresby. In the northern Pacific, Hosogaya would hold onto Midway, the gateway to Hawaii and also the Aleutians. To foil more desperate lunges against the homeland, the Northern Force would wield the four fast Kongō-class battleships, eight heavy cruisers, carriers Ryūjō, Junyō, Zuihō, and later the repaired Shōkaku.6
On 14 May Hara’s summary of air group casualties in the Coral Sea demonstrated not even the Zuikaku, undamaged but minus 40 percent of her aviators, could participate in the MI Operation. She required time to work up a new, properly trained air group. The absence of supernumerary carrier squadrons left Nagumo no other alternative. Even the sight of torn-up Shōkaku when she limped in on 17 May did not alter Yamamoto’s supreme confidence, although chief of staff Ugaki thought her “very lucky to have got off lightly with such damage.” Repairs would take three months. The Zuikaku showed up on the twenty-first. Hara was to bring her out in mid June after the victory to join the forces concentrating at Truk for the FS Operation. The absence of the 5th Carrier Division reduced Nagumo to four carriers and 250 planes, including twenty-one Zeros meant for Midway. Yamamoto judged them more than sufficient. Japanese intelligence believed both the Yorktown and Saratoga succumbed in the Coral Sea; the Lexington had either gone down in the January sub attack or was still under repair. Thus the Pacific Fleet could defend Midway with at most two or three big carriers (Enterprise, Hornet, and possibly Wasp), two or three converted carriers, two battleships, four or five heavy cruisers, seven or eight light cruisers, thirty destroyers and twenty-five subs. To Yamamoto the big challenge was to coax these meager forces out to fight. The two U.S. carriers sighted on 15 May off Tulagi had ample time to return to Hawaiian waters. Yet the Tangier’s adroit radio deception and the 28 May Tulagi raid by her PBYs, which Inoue misinterpreted as a carrier strike, led to doubts on that score.7
At the final Midway planning conference on 25 May, Nagumo unexpectedly informed Yamamoto that he could not sail on the twenty-sixth as planned. The carriers desperately needed another day to complete necessary preparations for battle. Therefore the 1st Kidō Butai must postpone the initial Midway strike from N−3 Day (4 June/3 June) to N−2 Day (5 June/4 June). Yamamoto reluctantly approved. He refused at that late date to reschedule N−Day (7 June/6 June), delay the Aleutians attack, or otherwise alter the timetable. He took the calculated risk that on N−3 Day, Midway’s air search would not patrol west far enough to sight the lead elements of Kondō’s Attack Force scheduled to close within six hundred miles of Midway that afternoon. That last-minute change fostered the mistaken impression that the AL Operation was always intended to serve as a diversion for Midway. On 26 May Kakuta’s 2nd Kidō Butai left Ominato in northern Japan bound for the foggy Aleutians. Nagumo’s 1st Kidō Butai departed the Inland Sea on 27 May, the anniversary of the glorious 1905 Battle of Tsushima and Japan’s Navy Day, to the cheers of Yamamoto’s Main Force and the big ships of Kondō’s Attack Force. The Midway invasion convoy sailed from Saipan on 28 May, and Yamamoto and Kondō left Japan on 29 May.
By 30 May, however, two more components of Yamamoto’s plan unraveled. Nearly all the Advance Force submarines failed to sail on time from Kwajalein and consequently reached their picket lines between Midway and Oahu up to two days late. Moreover, the sub detailed to refuel the flying boats in the Second Operation K found U.S. ships guarding French Frigate Shoals. That forced the cancellation of the Pearl Harbor reconnaissance flight. Had the flying boats gone forth on the night of 30–31 May as planned, they would have found no heavy ships at Pearl. That might have given Yamamoto pause to reflect. Unusually heavy radio activity intercepted from Hawaii disclosed the Pacific Fleet might be on alert. Ugaki mused that the premature exposure of the offensive could hasten the decisive encounter with the enemy heavy forces, “Which is welcome,” but he feared a concentration of U.S. subs. Aware of some of these suspicions, Nagumo steadily progressed toward his fateful confrontation at Midway.8
Midway campaign, movements to 0000, 4 June 1942
Many aspects of Yamamoto’s plan provoke comment. The Aleutians offensive contributed nothing beneficial that remotely offset the dangerous dispersal of valuable resources. A Japanese victory at Midway would crack open the North Pacific as readily as the South Pacific. Yet the Aleutians venture fit in with Yamamoto’s concept of keeping his main forces hidden well north of Midway, where U.S. air searches could not penetrate, and of using Kondō’s Attack Force to entice the U.S. Fleet out to fight. He hoped to conceal his true strength (in his mind the Main Force battleships), until it was too late for the few American carriers and battleships to evade and run. Therefore Yamamoto, who brilliantly planned the Pearl Harbor attack around the unprecedented power of his carriers, employed them at Midway mainly to clear the way for the battlewagons, cruisers, destroyers, and midget subs. Perceptions of the Coral Sea battle only reinforced the fragility of the flattops. Hara reported on board the Yamato on 24 May to lament missed opportunities. Normally ebullient, he confessed that on 7 May he was so frustrated he wanted to resign his commission. On the eighth his carriers took such a pounding that he was glad to withdraw. Takagi briefed the Combined Fleet staff on 25 May. Both received sympathetic hearings with rueful commiseration of their personal misfortunes, but no one regarded the Coral Sea setback as serious given the destruction of two U.S. carriers. The staff blamed Inoue’s lack of fortitude for the failure to pursue the retreating Americans. Capt. Kuroshima Kameto, the senior staff officer, opined to Ugaki, “We must not depend upon the air force too much; the surface force must be prepared to sacrifice itself in its place when necessary.” Good old-fashioned naval guns and ship-launched torpedoes might be best after all. Noting the vulnerability of carriers, Ugaki remarked, “A good use of the air arm was to seek victory by hitting the enemy’s weak point.” Yamamoto’s heavily scripted overall plan depended far too much on surprise. Its initial stages rendered his dispersed forces vulnerable to reverse ambush and defeat in detail. Apparently no one other than perhaps Kondō took note that in the Coral Sea, the U.S. carriers appeared much earlier than expected and frustrated the entire enterprise. In one of the great ironies of history, the Combined Fleet’s MI plan became the mirror image of its brilliant attack on Pearl Harbor six months before, except in this case Yamamoto, not Kimmel, deeply underestimated the quality of his foe, and acted as if he knew their intentions rather than carefully assessing their capabilities.9
On the afternoon of 27 May, after a cruise of 101 days, two raids, and a battle, Fletcher’s TF-17 gathered at the narrow entrance of Pearl Harbor right on schedule. Its arrival was a surprise, because Cincpac had reckoned fuel shortage would delay its return until the twenty-eighth. The Yorktown still trailed oil from seams opened on 8 May. On the way in, her sailors noted the encouraging absence of the beached battleship Nevada, since refloated and dispatched to the West Coast, which was where they thought they, too, would shortly be. Off Ford Island loomed the Enterprise and Hornet. Nimitz happened to be on the Big E awarding decorations. He would have a great deal to say to Fletcher later that day. The Yorktown executed a clockwise turn around Ford Island. If the removal of the Nevada was a positive sign, the forlorn bow of the capsized Utah, the Arizona’s skeletal mainmast, and the vast flat bottom of the Oklahoma reminded all of the 7 December outrage. The Yorktown moved alongside Pier B-16 in the navy yard’s repair basin, opposite the channel from the Enterprise.10
Coming into Pearl, Fletcher felt an unsettling premonition about the Yorktown’s ultimate fate, but had no clear idea how that might occur. If a trip to Bremerton was not in the cards, she needed a couple of weeks to get patched up. A staff officer strode on board to tell Fletcher that Nimitz wished to see him. Already prepared for the usual arrival call to Cincpac, Fletcher thought he amply earned the right to a quick drink first and strolled ashore to get one. Then he collected Poco Smith, reported to headquarters at the submarine base, and found Nimitz and Draemel awaiting him. To Fletcher’s surprise, Nimitz, “Normally the calmest of people,” appeared “exceptionally disturbed.” Asked how he felt after such a long, hard cruise, Fletcher replied, “Pretty tired.” Smith wondered, “How long the old poops and even the young officers can stand the strain.” Nimitz explained that under normal circumstances Fletcher and the Yorktown deserved a rest, but things were far from normal. “We have to fix you up right away and send you out to Midway.” The mention of Midway took Fletcher aback. The intelligence he saw in the last several weeks contained no hint of danger there. Nimitz explained that Midway would be invaded in the next several days and added sarcastically the Japanese were so confident of victory, they already appointed the officer who was to take command there in August. He never explicitly stated this amazing intelligence was derived from breaking the enemy code. Fletcher already knew that was the case. Smith did not, but as one of the navy’s early cryptographers, he quickly figured it out.11
Nimitz followed the bombshell about the enemy’s Midway offensive with shocking news that Bill Halsey was hospitalized after arriving the previous afternoon. Halsey’s haggard features shook even Nimitz’s legendary calm. Ever since February he suffered from unbearable itching all over his body due to “general dermatitis.” The tremendous stress exacerbated an underlying allergic skin reaction and prevented him from getting rest. On the recent cruise to the South Pacific the fierce tropical sun forced Halsey to remain in his flag quarters, “Which irked him to no end.” Capt. Miles Browning, chief of staff, and Cdr. William H. Buracker, operations officer, actually ran TF-16, with Halsey’s “advice and concurrence.” That could not continue. Now gaunt, shrunken, and exhausted, Halsey clearly was in no shape to fight. Missing Midway was to be “the most grievous disappointment” in his career.12
Halsey’s sudden illness threw Nimitz into a terrible quandary. He had counted on his most aggressive and experienced warrior to lead the carriers in their toughest battle, one that could decide the war in the Pacific. The obvious candidate to replace Halsey was Rear Adm. Leigh Noyes, a personable Vermonter and classmate of Fletcher and Fitch, who once seemed destined for great things. Short, stocky, “mild and meticulous,” said by King to be “physically unable to talk without using his hands,” Noyes earned his wings in 1937 as a fifty-one-year-old captain and became a “capable pilot.” That year his Lexington conducted the extensive search for Amelia Earhart. In 1938 he became chief of staff in King’s Aircraft, Battle Force. Promoted rear admiral in July 1939, Noyes served as director of naval communications. There his career took a wrong turn, partly due to the controversy over whether radio intelligence was properly handled before the Pearl Harbor attack. Noyes came out to Pearl in March 1942 under ambiguous circumstances without a billet, the unkind rumor being his superiors simply wanted to get rid of him. In April he took Fitch’s place as Halsey’s shore administrator. Some questioned his tenacity and judgment. A renowned naval aviator, who served under Noyes both in the light cruiser Richmond in 1934 and the Lexington, recalled, “The whole tenor and tone of those ships changed for the worse.” King, who knew Noyes well (and bullied him unmercifully), said, “Everyone knew he had trouble making decisions.” On 3 June Poco Smith privately described Noyes as “a washout.”13
Such judgments were too harsh. In need of additional carrier task force commanders because of King’s demand for single-carrier task forces, Nimitz was more than willing to give his friend Noyes a second chance. Noyes was to get the Saratoga task force, once she completed repairs in June, but instead, Fitch would reform TF-11 with the Saratoga. Nimitz then earmarked Noyes for the Hornet task force (TF-18) directly under Halsey, CTF-16 in the Enterprise. At the same time Fletcher was to remain CTF-17 in the Yorktown and later direct Fitch’s TF-11 as well. Nimitz sought Capt. Ted Sherman for the Wasp task force expected in San Diego about mid June. Like classmate Pete Mitscher in the Hornet, Sherman was already selected for rear admiral. Mitscher himself would very much have liked his own carrier task force, but he was in line for Patrol Wing Two to ease the burden of Rear Adm. Pat Bellinger. In May when John McCain left for the South Pacific, Bellinger took over Pacific Fleet’s patrol wings. Indeed Bellinger, another pioneer aviator, was another potential CTF-16, but Nimitz needed him where he was.14
To Nimitz’s surprise Halsey fervently recommended Rear Adm. Raymond Spruance (Comcrudiv Five), his cruiser task group commander, to succeed him as CTF-16. Indeed he declared Spruance was the only admiral to whom he would willingly entrust the two carriers. Halsey laid the foundation with a 25 May letter to Fletcher, who as Comcrupac was Spruance’s superior. Halsey praised Spruance’s “outstanding ability, excellent judgment, quiet courage” and declared he was “fully and supremely qualified to take command of a force comprising mixed types.” On 26 May Halsey proposed Spruance retain the whole elite Carriers, Pacific Fleet (Carpac) staff, exchanging only flag lieutenants. Nimitz barely knew him but he was aware of Spruance’s sterling reputation as a naval strategist. That would soon change, for Spruance was slated to relieve Draemel as Cincpac chief of staff. Earlier in May Nimitz wrote privately to King requesting the change, because Draemel, his principal planner, disagreed with his fundamental strategy. At the same time Wilson Brown’s precarious health meant Draemel could relieve him as Pacific Fleet’s amphibious commander. Spruance was a logical candidate for chief of staff. Like Draemel he had a strong background of study and teaching at the Naval War College and thoroughly understood the operational art. He also brought the benefit of recent combat experience. Trusting Halsey’s judgment, Nimitz acceded, primarily, it appears, to ensure continuity of command within TF-16, rather than, as is so often stated in hindsight, from an underlying belief that Spruance might actually do better than Halsey at Midway. In 1965 Nimitz could say, “It was a great day for the Navy when Bill Halsey had to enter the hospital.” He certainly did not think so at the time. He procrastinated until the evening of 27 May before informing King that Halsey was incapacitated by an “obscure allergy,” and he had already named a successor to lead TF-16. A strong case can be made that Halsey’s presence was sorely missed at Midway.15
On the twenty-sixth Spruance repaired to the Enterprise to make his call on Halsey and found flag country unusually still. He learned Halsey had been admitted to the hospital and that Nimitz wanted to see him. Then Nimitz floored him by placing him in command of TF-16 for the defense of Midway. Afterward he would come ashore to run the Cincpac staff. Unlike Fletcher, Spruance already knew from high-level messages shared by Halsey that a battle for Midway was in the offing, but he was astonished at becoming CTF-16 in his boss’s place. “Since I was not an aviator, and there were aviators senior to me at Pearl Harbor, I thought one of them would take over from Halsey.” A 1907 Annapolis graduate, Spruance cut his teeth in destroyers and taught five years at the Naval War College, where he became renowned as a naval strategist. Promoted to rear admiral in 1940, he organized the Tenth Naval District in the Caribbean before taking Crudiv Five in September 1941. Age fifty-five, medium height and slender, with a quiet and contemplative disposition and an addiction to long walks, he was a brilliant thinker, an excellent seaman, and a “cold fish.” Lt. Cdr. Victor D. Long, Crudiv Five flag secretary, described his boss as “essentially . . . a machine,” who “had no emotions or didn’t show them.” Others, however, noted the twinkling eyes and the dry sense of humor. Spruance worshipped logic and order. He and Halsey were very close, although they were fire and ice.16
Suddenly placing Spruance in charge of TF-16 forced Nimitz to change his plans regarding Noyes, who was senior both to Fletcher and Spruance. Noyes must remain ashore for the time being. Nimitz would not willingly entrust the carrier striking force to someone devoid of battle experience or, for that matter, even recent sea duty. Like Kimmel and Pye, Nimitz did not regard being a naval aviator with carrier experience the indispensable credential for a carrier task force commander. He explained to King on 29 May that he was going to wait until after the upcoming battle to reorganize the carriers. “At this time it is essential that our organization be stabilized as much as possible.” Thus he held up scheduled reliefs of Mitscher by Capt. Charles P. Mason and Buckmaster by Capt. Arthur Davis, the valued Cincpac aviation staff officer.17
Therefore if, as it seemed likely, the Yorktown could fight, Fletcher would lead all the carriers at Midway. After explaining the TF-16 command situation to Fletcher and Smith, Nimitz discussed the Yorktown’s condition. Fletcher’s arrival a day earlier than expected proved crucial. On 26 May War Plans hoped she might be ready to go in four days; otherwise an immediate trip to Bremerton was in order. Now from talking with Fletcher, Nimitz estimated the carrier should be ready in forty-eight to sixty hours. He directed she be brought into dry dock the next morning with the special (and risky) dispensation of not removing aviation gasoline beforehand. The navy yard was to complete hull repairs by 0630 on 29 May and refloat her to refuel. Thus Nimitz counted on Fletcher to depart on 30 May. Reestablishing her watertight integrity would be difficult in such a short time. The loading of ammunition, provisions, and supplies was to begin as soon as possible. The other ships would also require working day and night. Nimitz authorized liberty for the long-suffering TF-17 sailors. For Fletcher other news was not so good. Former Saratoga squadrons were replacing nearly all his trusted Yorktown aviators.18
Draemel and Smith withdrew, leaving Fletcher alone with Nimitz. To Fletcher’s astonishment, Nimitz brought up King’s damning charges that TF-17 had not promptly raided Bougainville and Rabaul in March and April. He also reiterated the criticism over the failure to execute night surface attacks in the Coral Sea battle. “As the reason for this probing gradually dawned on Fletcher, both he and his interrogator became increasingly embarrassed. Frank Jack, never fluent of speech, found himself virtually tongue-tied. He muttered something about wanting to consult his records, and Nimitz agreed that was a reasonable request.” In addition to a personal explanation, Nimitz wanted something in writing to submit to King. Thus he deferred the matter to the next day. The awkward interlude ended when Spruance dropped by to ask about the Yorktown. He was greatly relieved to hear, “She’ll be joining you.” The three admirals discussed the coordination of both carrier task forces before and during the battle, a vital consultation that would have been impossible had TF-17 returned on 28 May after Spruance sailed.19
At dinner Nimitz reconvened the conference that now included Fletcher, Spruance, Noyes, Draemel, and Smith, along with important staff. Having briefed senior army and navy commanders that morning, Nimitz again elucidated his ideas regarding the offensive against Midway and the Aleutians. He was superb in these prebattle conferences. Fletcher thought Nimitz was “rather shocked by the enormity of it all, but still he remained calm and imperturbable. These were his best characteristics.” Spruance admired Nimitz’s “intelligence, open-mindedness, approachability for anyone who had different ideas, and above all, his utter fearlessness and his courage in pushing the war.” To Spruance “an offensive fighting spirit is of the utmost importance in the top commanders.” Nimitz encouraged his subordinates through quiet confidence laced with humor not cheerleading histrionics or the coercion of a taskmaster.20
Nimitz distributed Cincpac Operation Plan 29–42 that McCormick’s War Plans Section just compiled. Against the Midway-Hawaii line, Japan could employ four or five big carriers, two to four fast battleships, and seven to nine cruisers with commensurate numbers of destroyers, up to two dozen submarines, and a powerful landing force. (Actual strength was even greater because of the participation of the First Fleet’s battleships, hints of which the code breakers detected but which, for unexplained reasons, the analysts discounted.) Smaller but powerful forces, including carriers, threatened the Aleutians. The two offensives would commence shortly. Subs would first reconnoiter U.S. fleet dispositions and form blocking lines to catch ships that sortied to succor Midway. There might even be another night bombing of Pearl Harbor by flying boats, as in March. The carriers would close swiftly to overwhelm Midway’s defense and open the way for invasion. King believed that “N-Day,” when the Midway and Aleutian landings would take place, was 3 June, but Nimitz leaned toward 5 June (one day prior to the real N-Day). The initial carrier air attacks could begin on 3 or 4 June, likely from northwest of Midway, while heavy ships pounded the defenses at night. The landings themselves might occur at night. Should Midway fall, the Japanese would immediately rush in aircraft and base defenses to consolidate their hold. As for the Aleutians, Nimitz elected only to reinforce its shore-based aircraft and form TF-8 under Admiral Theobald, with two heavy cruisers, three light cruisers, and four destroyers. Nimitz made Midway his personal battle. Exercising “general tactical command” from Pearl, he positioned all of the forces and approved the search patterns.21
What was available for Midway? Nimitz wisely ruled out the seven old, slow battleships of Pye’s TF-1 based at San Francisco. They still lacked the vital air support and screening ships essential when battling forces supported by carriers. As usual King hoped to use the battleships, but Nimitz declared on 24 May that he would hold them on the West Coast “until objectives for their striking power are more definite.” He thought in the back of his mind they could pummel Midway should he have to retake it. Eventually he hoped to use converted auxiliary carriers to protect the battleships, but now he had only the Long Island, the first U.S. auxiliary carrier. The Saratoga was far more valuable with the carrier striking force than shepherding old battleships. Such a passive role did not sit well with a restive Pye, who thought he should take an active role in the defense of Midway or at least the Hawaiian Islands.22
Having dispensed with the battleships, Nimitz reckoned on four basic assets. Spruance’s TF-16 (Enterprise and Hornet) would be in position off Midway by 1 June; TF-17 (Yorktown) would join the next day. Fletcher received tactical command of both task forces, which totaled 230 planes. Fitch’s TF-11 (Saratoga) should depart San Diego on 5 June, too late to fight at Midway unless the Japanese were considerably delayed. Bellinger (CTF-9, shore-based aircraft) was to deploy as many navy, marine, and army aircraft onto Midway as the small atoll could comfortably hold. That ultimately numbered 125 planes under Capt. Cyril T. Simard, the island commander. Long-range searches by PBYs from Midway and Johnston would locate suitable targets, both for the carriers and land-based bombers that included B-17s shuttling in from Hawaii. Simard’s marine fighters must defend the air base against certain fierce and unremitting air attack. A proud wearer of the submariner’s dolphin insignia, Nimitz anticipated a stellar performance from Rear Adm. Robert H. English’s Pacific Fleet subs (TF-7). A dozen boats would form a scouting line west of Midway, patrol their sectors until contact was made, then swarm in. All available subs would reinforce them. Finally, more than two thousand resolute, well-armed marines would defend Midway itself.
Weaker than his opponents in most categories, Nimitz could no longer simply meet them head-on. McCormick put it well. “Not only the directive from [Cominch] but also common sense dictates that we cannot now afford to slug it out with the probably superior approaching Japanese forces.” Instead, “We must endeavor to reduce his forces by attrition—submarine attacks, air bombing, attacks on isolated units.” Thus, “If attrition is successful the enemy must accept the failure of his venture or risk battle on disadvantageous terms for him.” McCormick took notice of King’s all-too-accurate fear that the Japanese intended to trap the surface forces but thought the extensive air reconnaissance should forestall that calamity. It was vital to get the maximum effect out of Midway’s air, “Without exposing our carriers to danger of destruction out of proportion to the damage they can inflict. We must calculate the risk and must accept the danger when our prospects of frustrating or destroying the enemy carriers are sufficiently good.”23
Nimitz looked carefully into the deployment of his carriers, the key to success at Midway. As excellent as radio intelligence was in predicting Japanese strategic intentions, he had relatively little actual information, other than his own common sense, as to how the enemy might go about reducing Midway. An important clue from a decrypt appeared in Layton’s scorecard on 21 May. “Staff member 1st Air Fleet request [sic] weather data from 3 hrs. prior to take off on ‘N’-2 day. Asked to be informed of any BLUE activity that area. Planes will be launched 50 miles N.W. of Midway attacking from N−2 days until N-day.” Thus Nimitz deduced that for two days prior to the invasion the whole carrier force would strike Midway “from short range, say 50 to 100 miles,” to pulverize its air defenses. Midway’s own planes “must try to inflict prompt early damage to Jap carrier flight decks if recurring attacks are to be stopped.” Nimitz tasked Davis, his fleet aviation officer, to “visualize as closely as possible [the Japanese] method of operation and OUR best counter tactics.” He wanted Davis to keep in mind, “Where does Halsey best fit into this picture, remembering we can ill afford loss of carriers.” It was vital to determine the best initial position for the U.S. carriers. Nimitz had previously directed Bellinger to fashion a search pattern that would find the enemy carriers before they could close Midway. Bellinger explained, “Each day’s search must cover enemy movements to such a distance that the next day’s search will reach the enemy carrier’s probable launching radius before he can reach it.” Thus he proposed a dawn search by the PBYs to seven hundred miles.24
Replying on 26 May, Davis warned Nimitz that “unless early, and preferably advance, serious damage is done to enemy CVs,” Midway’s aircraft would have little effect. Bellinger’s suggested long-range search offered “the best chance for us to get in the first effective blows, not only with Midway planes but also with both our carrier planes and our submarines.” The proposed pattern of searches from Midway and Johnston “will leave an excellent flanking area northeast of Midway for our carriers. With prompt action by both carriers and submarines, these forces should best be able to do their stuff.” Davis stressed it was “particularly important that the carriers be able to take action at the earliest possible moment.” Bellinger’s search plan “should make it practicable for our carriers to be reasonably close to Midway and thus in position for early action when opportunity arises.” Therefore, “Our supporting CVs should be close in for best chance of success, and the full VP [flying boat] search will justify this.”25
Nimitz agreed that the sector northeast of Midway was the best initial location for his carrier striking force. From there the carriers could “seize opportunity to obtain initial advantage against carriers which are employing their air groups against Midway.” The goal was to “inflict maximum damage on enemy by employing strong attrition tactics,” but “not accept such decisive action as would be likely to incur heavy losses in our carriers and cruisers.” Cincpac’s separate letter of instruction to Fletcher and Spruance directed them to “be governed by the principle of calculated risk which you shall interpret to mean the avoidance of exposure of your forces to attack by superior enemy forces without good prospect of inflicting, as a result of such exposure, greater damage to the enemy. This applies to a landing phase as well as during preliminary air attacks.” Spruance’s flag lieutenant, Robert J. Oliver, recalled that Nimitz told Spruance no matter what not to lose his carriers. If things got too rough, he was to withdraw and let Midway fall. Any enemy foothold so far east could be recaptured later. Fletcher doubtless received the same instructions.26
The defense of Midway posed a daunting task. The Japanese “have amply demonstrated their ability to use their carrier air with great ability,” and “we can no longer underestimate their naval air efficiency.” That is a rather surprising admission that showed that prior to the loss of the Lexington, Japanese prowess was not recognized. Nimitz’s decision to fight at Midway was all the more courageous. Japan held the initiative. The Combined Fleet outnumbered the Pacific Fleet in all classes of combat ships. Its carrier aircraft enjoyed longer range and the fighters possibly superior performance. Its amphibious forces were experienced and highly efficient. The weaker Pacific Fleet must resort to attrition tactics rather than direct confrontation. Yet Nimitz had strong reason for optimism at Midway. The situation certainly warranted taking a “calculated risk.” His men were “just as brave, and those who have been properly trained are believed to be better than their opposite Jap number.” The remarkable radio intelligence gave him sufficient warning to gather his forces in secret. Japan must expose its precious carriers to counterattack vastly abetted by the element of surprise. The enemy would confront a “fairly strong” land-based air force beyond supporting range of his own shore-based aviation. “Our submarines have demonstrated considerable superiority.” The assault on Midway would prove costly to the attackers. The battle was far from the desperate gamble that is often portrayed. Although the odds still favored Japan, Nimitz had devised a careful plan where victory would pay enormous dividends.27
On the evening of 27 May Fletcher returned to the Yorktown with a great deal on his mind, not the least to correct Cincpac’s impression of his previous conduct. The next morning he delivered a lengthy letter that summarized his operations in the Coral Sea. Not having time to recast the narrative, he apologized for including long excerpts from the Coral Sea action report submitted separately to headquarters. Endeavoring to explain his command decisions and clear up any misunderstandings, Fletcher emphasized, “Trying to operate under these conditions and maintain radio silence is very exasperating, also the condition of fuel weighs heavily on the mind of the Task Force Commander.” His letter and a follow-up interview removed the last of Nimitz’s concerns. On 29 May Nimitz wrote privately to King that he had investigated “what appeared to be a lack of aggressive tactics” on Fletcher’s part and the absence of night surface attacks in the Coral Sea. “Both of these matters have been cleared up to my entire satisfaction and, I hope, will be to yours.” The “long delay and lack of aggressive tactics” Nimitz attributed to the “lack of sufficiently reliable combat intelligence upon which to base operations, to the necessity for replenishment of fuel and provisions, and to the replacement of defective leak proof tanks in the fighter planes.” He concluded: “I hope, and believe that after reading the enclosed letter, you will agree with me that Fletcher did a fine job and exercised superior judgement in his recent cruise to the Coral Sea. He is an excellent, seagoing, fighting naval officer and I wish to retain him as a task force commander for the future. I will be greatly pleased if you can approve my recommendation of award of distinguished service medal to Fletcher and his designation as a task force commander with the rank of Vice Admiral as previously recommended by despatch.”28
Certainly emerging with a lighter heart on 28 May after meeting Nimitz, Fletcher continued preparing for the swift sortie of TF-17. That morning the Yorktown eased into dry dock number one, which was quickly pumped out so the hull could be mended. More than a thousand shipfitters swarmed on board to shore up interior damage and restore watertight integrity. At the same time, the ship was provisioned and supplied. Before the dock was fully dry, Nimitz, Fletcher, and Buckmaster sloshed through the water inspecting her hull and encouraging the yard workers, who “got into the spirit of the thing and really turned to.” Relieved the exterior damage appeared “minor,” Nimitz issued orders that afternoon for TF-17 to sail at 0900, 30 May. Still, the task “was a large order, and everyone connected with the job sensed there was something big about to happen.”29
In the meantime, Spruance’s TF-16 got under way: first the eleven destroyers, five heavy cruisers, and one light antiaircraft cruiser, two fleet oilers, and finally, toward noon, the Enterprise and Hornet. That was almost the exact same time, 29 May in Japan, that Yamamoto’s own Main Body put to sea. With Spruance now CTF-16, Kinkaid took over the cruiser task group (TG-16.2). In a surprise move Spruance named the Enterprise’s Capt. George D. Murray (USNA 1911, wings 1915, aviator number 22) as Commander, Air (CTG-16.5), even though Mitscher in the Hornet was not only senior, but also soon to step up to rear admiral. Spruance obviously preferred to concentrate the carrier command in the Big E, but Mitscher could not have been very pleased. They would not get along particularly well at Midway.30
Another rocky relationship, that of Fletcher and his radio intelligence officer, Lt. Forrest Biard, finally broke up on 28 May. Bags packed, Biard approached Fletcher and Lewis the day before, asking to be released back to Hypo. He explained that because he had been away from base so long, he was certain someone else attuned to the latest developments would be more useful. In truth, the deeply embittered Biard simply wanted off the Yorktown and away from Fletcher. He interpreted his profound disagreements with Fletcher over the evaluation of radio intelligence in battle, admittedly an arcane art, as direct personal attacks on his competency. To his extreme surprise, especially as he felt certain Fletcher “ended up hating,” as well as distrusting him, Fletcher proved very unwilling to part with him but wanted him to stay for the fight at Midway. That reluctance is particularly notable, for Fletcher already had at hand a more congenial replacement, an old shipmate, Commander Fullinwider, the former TF-11 radio intelligence officer who rode the Yorktown back from Tongatabu. Yet instead of immediately casting off a truculent subordinate, Fletcher demonstrated mature leadership and loyalty in valuing the able but difficult Biard, despite their sharp differences. Only after dogging Fletcher, who truly had many other things on his mind, Biard finally received permission to leave, after Fletcher himself went to Nimitz and secured Fullinwider in his place. Biard had intended to remain a few days to brief his successor. Learning he was to be Fullinwider, Biard departed immediately. His memoir severely criticized Fullinwider (“a terrible handicap to me”), although Fitch praised his advice at Coral Sea. Fullinwider certainly made mistakes, but he did intercept key search reports on the morning of 7 May that Biard missed.31
Fletcher was understandably apprehensive over losing most of his highly valued veteran aviators. On the afternoon of 27 May the Carpac administrative office ordered Burch’s Scouting Five, Taylor’s Torpedo Five, and Fenton’s Fighting Forty-two detached from the Yorktown Air Group. They were to draw replacement pilots and planes and embark in the Saratoga in the next ten days. The only remaining original Yorktown squadron was Lieutenant Short’s Bombing Five. Joining the group were the three Saratoga squadrons stranded at Pearl since February. Only Lt. Cdr. Maxwell F. Leslie’s Bombing Three had recent carrier time, having gone with the Enterprise on the Tokyo raid. Lt. Cdr. Lance E. Massey’s Torpedo Three was green. Lt. Cdr. John S. Thach’s Fighting Three brought twenty-seven new Grumman F4F-4s, the latest version of the Wildcat. It featured folding wings and six .50-caliber machine guns, instead of four, but only half the ammunition per gun. Fletcher welcomed the increased number of fighters. Pederson, the group commander, thought he was responsible for the shake-up. Earlier in May, not knowing Midway was in the offing, he recommended to Comcarpac that the Yorktown squadrons receive a well-earned break. “I told [Noyes] if we were going out to battle I wanted my old air group—that even tho tired and needing a rest they were experienced and used to working together.” Noyes refused to relent. Pederson recalled that when Fletcher found out about the new air group, he “was very upset and furious with me for not letting him know of the change. I was really caught in the middle of that one! However, he didn’t stay angry too long.” As Fletcher told Walter Lord, “It wasn’t a question of quality—none could be better—but these new men just weren’t used to the ship.” Nimitz stuck with the original orders. Events proved that Fletcher and the Yorktown would have no cause to complain of their ex-Saratoga brethren, far from it.32
Ironically the much-improved model of torpedo bomber that all the squadrons long craved finally reached Pearl on 29 May in a convoy from Alameda with the Torpedo Eight Detachment (whose parent unit sailed in the Hornet) and twenty-one brand new Grumman TBF-1 Avengers. Much faster than the TBDs, the TBFs were also far bigger and heavier. Remarkable for such a big plane (wingspan fifty-four feet, weight 15,905 pounds fully loaded), the Avenger proved an excellent carrier aircraft, long ranged and rugged. As yet only the Hornet and the Saratoga possessed arresting gear strong enough to take them. Noyes sent six TBFs to Midway in time to fight in the battle. The same stateside convoy also delivered two fresh fighting squadrons, VF-5 (an original Yorktown unit) and VF-72, but too late to fight at Midway.33
In the brief interval before sailing, Fletcher’s staff grappled with a thousand necessary details. Cdr. Hal Guthrie, the combat intelligence and damage control officer, first learned the details of the Midway operation on the morning of 29 May, when he and Cdr. Gerry Galpin, the operations officer, accompanied Fletcher to headquarters. Guthrie followed with obvious interest the progress of the repairs on the Yorktown, as her watertight integrity had been compromised, and had serious doubts whether she would survive the next battle. Buckmaster was more sanguine. “The seams were re-riveted, and the bulkheads, doors, and hatches were repaired as best they could in the time they had. My understanding was that it was a patch job, but good enough for us to go to sea, to get into whatever was to happen.”34
Fletcher and the staff enjoyed a warm reunion with Cdr. Butch Schindler, the peripatetic gunnery officer last seen on 9 May prior to his hurried flight to Australia. After accomplishing his mission, Schindler flew to Sydney where he visited the Chicago, then stopped off in New Zealand before hitching a ride to Pearl in a large flying boat. The staff also welcomed Cdr. Michael B. Laing, RN, the new British naval liaison officer. A non-aviator, he had been executive officer in 1940–41 of venerable HMS Furious in raids against Kirkenes in Norway and Petsamo, Finland, and also the western Mediterranean. Laing’s hope for action would not be disappointed. Schindler later described him as a “grand shipmate, a real seaman [who] possessed a typical British sense of humor.”35
On the morning of 29 May the Yorktown left dry dock number one and returned to Pier 16 to resume loading supplies. Work on her innards continued unabated. Nimitz wrote King that she “will be in all respects ready to give a good account of herself.” His particularly appropriate postscript evoked the attitude of the entire Pacific Fleet toward fighting at Midway: “We are actively preparing to greet our expected visitors with the kind of reception they deserve, and we will do the best we can with what we have.” Bright and early on 30 May Nimitz came on board the Yorktown to bid farewell to Fletcher and Buckmaster. He wanted Buckmaster to tell the crew that after the present assignment they were going back to Bremerton for repairs and to enjoy a long leave. For now, however, their task was to help win the biggest battle yet in the Pacific War.36
Preceded by Hoover’s destroyers Morris, Anderson, Hammann, Russell, and Hughes and Smith’s heavy cruisers Astoria and Portland, the Yorktown nosed out to sea shortly after Cincpac’s visit. The brief but busy sojourn at Pearl left the Yorktown crew in an excellent mood. Buckmaster relayed over the loudspeaker to a cheering ship’s company Nimitz’s promise of stateside leave following the next battle. “And not just for any two weeks, either!” Smith could not resist teasing Fletcher, signaling: “May 18 issue of Time contains slanderous statement about you.” Wary of his friend’s wicked sense of humor, Fletcher simply asked Smith to include the magazine in the first guard mail delivery via destroyer. The offending article proved to be an overview of the Pacific Fleet’s early raids that in a brief mention described Fletcher as “scholarly,” probably because his official naval biography disclosed that he had attended both the navy and army war colleges. A letter from a mutual friend that accompanied the magazine noted how an amused J. O. Richardson suggested the “slander suit,” and that Fletcher’s wife Martha had concurred.37
A terrible accident instantly sobered the high spirits in the Yorktown. That afternoon the air group appeared overhead after flying out from Kaneohe. Thach’s VF-3 landed first, which challenged the flight deck crew to fold properly the unfamiliar wings of the new F4F-4s. The fourth fighter bounced high on touchdown and floated over the barrier directly onto the back of another Wildcat. Its propeller sliced through the cockpit. Despite the danger of whirling props and fire, the flight deck crew, joined by executive officer Dixie Kiefer, tore through the crushed Wildcat to save its pilot, but Lt. Cdr. Donald A. Lovelace had been killed instantly. The quality of some of the subsequent landings likewise validated Fletcher’s concern that the air group included numerous rookies. By sundown TF-17 shaped course northwest at twenty knots toward Midway. The Yorktown’s operable air strength was seventy-one planes (twenty-five F4Fs, thirty-four SBDs, and twelve TBDs).38
By the time Fletcher sailed, Nimitz had decided on a specific initial position (latitude 32° north, longitude 173° west) 325 miles northeast of Midway to station the carriers while awaiting the enemy approach. He dubbed it “Point Luck.” Prior to enemy contact Fletcher was to operate north and east of Luck, Spruance north and west. Toward noon, they were to approach Luck, and, if necessary, communicate by aircraft message drop. Cincpac’s dispatch to Spruance called the arrangement “not mandatory” and “intended only to assist initial coordination.” The version in Appendix 2 of Op-Plan 29–42 stated that it was “not intended to restrict the operation of either force in any manner but to avoid having embarrassing or premature contact made with own forces.” As will be seen, by deliberately not uniting the two task forces Nimitz profoundly shaped how the battle was fought.39
On 29 May Cominch provided Nimitz, Fletcher, and Theobald a new estimate of enemy strength and intentions. He now agreed with Nimitz that N-Day, the actual day of the landing, was very likely 5 June. The Midway occupation force apparently left Saipan on 28 May (local time), whereas the Midway Striking Force of the Akagi, Kaga, Hiryū, and Sōryū (Cardivs One and Two), four fast battleships, and six heavy cruisers departed Japan the day before. The air attacks on Midway would commence early on 3 June, Midway time. “Believe Zuikaku will either form part of the Striking Force or will join convoy as escort on 1 June.” King was less certain about the scope and timing of the Aleutians venture with perhaps two small carriers (Cardiv Three), a converted carrier or seaplane tender, and five heavy cruisers, plus screen. The enemy could reach Kiska on 31 May or 1 June, “Which seems badly timed as effort at diversion.” Instead, the carriers might strike Unalaska beginning 31 May and 3 June, with an invasion later. “Purpose of attack on date earlier than Midway might be effort at diversion.” In fact, as has been seen, the Japanese never intended the AL Operation as a diversion.40
On 30 May after TF-17 sailed, Cincpac radioed the task force commanders his latest and most detailed take on the composition of the enemy forces. The Midway Striking Force comprised the familiar four formidable carriers (fortunately not also Zuikaku), but its screen numbered only two fast battleships, two heavy cruisers, and a dozen destroyers—a correct estimate. The Midway occupation force should have two or three heavy cruisers, two seaplane carriers, two to four seaplane tenders, twelve to eighteen transports and cargo ships, and a close cover force of one carrier or converted carrier, two fast battleships, five heavy cruisers, and ten destroyers. About sixteen subs preceded the other forces to scout the Hawaii-Midway area. Nimitz’s estimate, like King’s, failed to include Yamamoto and the battleships of the First Fleet. He also reiterated his belief that the landing at Midway was set for 5 June, a day earlier than the actual Japanese plan. Thus like King, Nimitz estimated the preliminary carrier air attacks could begin the night of 2–3 June. A decrypt revealed a possible rendezvous 685 miles west of Midway, near the extreme strike radius of the B-17s. Given the surmised schedule, that meeting might take place on 31 May or 1 June. Although King speculated that might be where the Zuikaku would join the Midway Striking Force, Nimitz labeled it a refueling point. He directed Midway to have B-17s there those two afternoons. They found nothing. No Japanese ships had yet come that far east. Nagumo planned to swing well north before turning southeast toward Midway. The rendezvous itself referred to a later event involving one of Kondō’s auxiliaries. Nimitz did not reveal to Fletcher and Spruance that the source of detailed radio intelligence was drying up. The IJN finally implemented the long overdue change with a new cipher codebook and additive table, although some commands used the old system a short while. Thus Hypo and its colleagues in Washington and Melbourne could only analyze radio traffic and break recent messages sent in the old cipher.41
On Sunday, 31 May, the oddly appropriate anniversary of the Battle of Jutland, two TF-1 battleships and two destroyers (another joined on 1 June) under Admiral Anderson left San Francisco to patrol six hundred miles northwest. That sortie resulted from a bout of nerves by Pye, who was disappointed not to fight in defense of Midway or at least deploy to Hawaii. On 28 May he announced to TF-1 that intelligence “indicates probability” of an air raid on Alaska or California during the “coming week.” He put TF-1 on alert, with antiaircraft guns manned, and canceled shore leave. Even so, he directed the action be kept “confidential,” to not “unduly alarm” civilians. It is understandable that someone surprised at Pearl Harbor would never risk anything like that again, but Cincpac was aghast at the prospect of the massive security leak that might warn Japan that something was up. McCormick called Pye’s order “very dangerous” and “wholly unnecessary.” Fearing a sort of Doolittle raid in reverse by a couple of auxiliary carriers, Pye then informed Nimitz that evening of his intention to send Anderson to sea. “Exposure of Batdiv 4 is believed justifiable on view unavailability vessels more suitable for task to be assigned.” The next day Nimitz approved. It was important to maintain morale in TF-1 and facilitate training, but from that point Pye’s days as CTF-1 were numbered. Nimitz ordered the Long Island to proceed immediately from San Diego to join TF-1 at San Francisco and asked Pye to evaluate her use in covering the battleships. Perhaps that would keep Pye busy until the battle for Midway was over.42
On 31 May TF-17 steamed uneventfully northwest toward its fueling rendezvous the next afternoon. Overnight it traversed the waters destined for part of the northern Japanese submarine picket line. Even if those subs had arrived on schedule (1 June, west longitude date), they were too late to detect TF-17. Spruance’s TF-16, of course, already lurked far to the northwest. On the morning of 1 June Fletcher’s cruisers fueled the destroyers. That day the Yorktown’s crew handed out battle gear. To prevent confusion between the two bombing squadrons, Buckmaster temporarily changed Bombing Five’s designation to Scouting Five. The weather closed in that afternoon. Twenty minutes after the destroyers finished their drink, the Fueling Group hove into sight. Each cruiser latched onto an oiler. At sundown Fletcher released the Cimarron and destroyer Monssen to a holding area six to seven hundred miles east of Midway and tucked the Platte and Dewey astern of TF-17 as it continued west. At dawn on 2 June, as TF-17 closed Point Luck from the southeast, the Yorktown took her turn alongside the Platte. The skies were overcast, with intermittent patches of misty rain and fog. After the Yorktown completed fueling, Fletcher dispatched the oilers to safer waters and headed west toward Point Luck ninety miles off. Although TF-17 sheltered behind Midway’s wide-ranging patrol planes, the Yorktown mounted a precautionary SBD search. A special flight of two SBDs discovered TF-16 in the midst of clouds sixty miles west of Point Luck and dropped a message to Spruance setting the rendezvous at Luck that afternoon. TF-16 experienced an uneventful trip out. Spruance topped off his ships on 31 May, and from 1 June marked time northeast of Midway, awaiting either Fletcher or the enemy, whoever came first.
That afternoon Fletcher gained a better idea when additional reinforcements might reach him. Nimitz radioed that Fitch’s TF-11 (Saratoga, Chester, light antiaircraft cruiser San Diego, and four destroyers) would depart Pearl about 6 June. “Desire this force join TF17.” Cincpac would provide the route and set the tentative rendezvous. In fact, the estimate was too optimistic. Nimitz had originally intended for Fitch to assemble TF-11 at San Diego by the afternoon of 4 June, but on 30 May he told Capt. Dewitt C. Ramsey, the new commanding officer of the Saratoga, not to wait, but sail at the “earliest practicable time.” Ramsey’s TG-11.1 departed San Diego on 1 June with the Sara, San Diego, and four destroyers. Fitch in the Chester and two transports filled with Lexington survivors only reached San Diego on the second. He could not refuel and clear the harbor before the afternoon of 4 June. To his great regret that would be far too late to fight in the Battle of Midway.43
Nimitz also suggested Fletcher consider moving his initial area of operation north rather than northeast of Midway, “To insure being within early striking distances of objectives.” Nothing new had changed in his “estimate of enemy plans which included a northwesterly approach for striking force.” Nimitz did offer new details on the invasion plans of Midway. Two special pioneer battalions were to restore the airfield as soon as possible to take planes being ferried on the carriers and seaplane tenders, while bombers and flying boats waited at Wake to stage to Midway. The landing force itself comprised Japanese “marines” and a special army unit. “They are even bringing guns captured on Wake.” Nimitz was confident his commanders “have the stuff to smear their plays. Watch for razzle dazzle.”44
On the afternoon of 2 June TF-16 hove into view fifteen miles southwest of TF-17. Unlike the previous month at the Coral Sea, Fletcher did not unite the two task forces, but directed TF-16 to take position ten miles to the south and remain within visual signaling distance. The task forces were to keep five to ten miles apart, with TF-16 holding station to the southwest. Fletcher reluctantly followed Nimitz’s direct orders, based on the preference of the top naval aviators for separated carrier task forces. Every reference by Cincpac referred to the task forces as distinct entities. Even the two TF-16 carriers were to maneuver independently under air attack. Fletcher himself much preferred an integrated striking force. In 1947 he told Morison he “automatically assumed command” of the carrier striking force at the rendezvous. “However, due to the lack of time for conferences, drill, preparation of plans and organization,” the “clumsy and illogical method was adopted of leaving Spruance in command of his two [carriers], while I retained command of the Yorktown Task Force and overall tactical command of the combined force.” The two task forces “operated in close vicinity, but not as a tactical unit.” Unaware of Cincpac’s dictum, critics questioned why Fletcher did not immediately join TF-16 and TF-17, particularly in light of the integral multi-carrier task forces so successful later. Bates incorrectly described Cincpac having organized the carriers “into a single striking force,” but did not know why Fletcher failed to incorporate them into the same formation. In truth unlike the Japanese, the U.S. Navy had not yet worked three carriers together, except as George Murray emphasized in November 1942, only “to a very limited extent” and then “only for simple, peacetime operations.”45
Nimitz, however, had his own reasons for not joining the three carriers that went well beyond the worry of employing experimental tactics in battle. He had resolved the contradiction between the Ultra decrypt hinting that carriers would repeatedly strike Midway from very close and the considered belief of his trusted advisor Davis that the carriers would stand well off and refrain from shuttle attacks until they had neutralized Midway’s air force. Nimitz now believed the Japanese carriers would do both. The enemy would most likely operate his carriers again in two separate, mutually supporting groups, as it was thought they had repeatedly done before. Separating the carrier groups by at least double the limit of visibility (say fifty miles) prevented a single snooper from spotting both groups. That was the cherished dispersion tactic of the top U.S. naval aviators, but not of Capt. Ted Sherman and Fletcher.46
Thus Cincpac Op-Plan 29–42 opined, “One or more carriers may take up close-in daylight positions” to the northwest for up to two days to knock out Midway’s air force, while “additional carrier groups and fast battleships” covered these “attacking carriers against our surface forces.” Nimitz clearly believed such an initial separation of enemy carriers greatly enhanced his chances for a devastating counterattack, particularly if it came as a complete surprise. The key was to take advantage of surprise to eliminate one enemy carrier group at the outset. The group attacking Midway was likeliest to be spotted first. There was the added benefit of possibly catching its planes on deck being rearmed for further strikes against the island. The primary weapon for this attack was to be Spruance’s TF-16 (Enterprise and Hornet), kept “cocked and primed” as a single unit, while other forces handled searches. Once one Japanese carrier group appeared within range, Fletcher, wielding tactical command, would instantly release Spruance to hurl his full striking power of 120 planes, capable of destroying at least two carriers at once. Browning’s staff was to ensure this supremely vital attack went off without a hitch. In the meantime, Fletcher would decide whether TF-17 (Yorktown) engaged the second enemy group—the most desirable course of action—or followed up Spruance’s attack. Fletcher retained the flexibility to launch searches and fill in with attacks against one group or the other as necessary. Should events go the way Nimitz, Fletcher, and Spruance hoped, the second phase would see three U.S. carriers finish off the two remaining flattops. In truth, Nagumo never divided his four carriers. That misunderstanding on the part of Nimitz and others would cause grave repercussions in the subsequent battle.47
At the rendezvous Fletcher and Spruance exchanged op orders and combat air patrol schedules. Lt. Cdr. Leonard J. “Ham” Dow, the TF-16 staff communications officer, would direct all fighters when the two task forces were in close proximity. Fletcher also reset the clocks in the carrier task forces to Zone plus 10, two hours ahead of the local Midway time (Z+12), as a sort of daylight savings time. Thus for the carriers morning twilight at Point Luck started at 0540 rather than the local time of 0340, and sunrise was 0627 rather than 0427. That time difference would bedevil certain future historians, who forgot to convert times properly and thus contributed to the battle’s persistent myths. From here, unless otherwise specifically noted, all times will be Z+12, used by Midway itself and in nearly all secondary sources on the battle.
On the afternoon of 2 June Fletcher followed Cincpac’s suggestion to move north of Midway, rather than keep to the northeast. The two task forces headed west at fourteen knots during the night to gain proper position, should, as expected, the Japanese carriers show up at dawn on 3 June northwest of Midway. If the enemy was delayed, Fletcher planned to work northward during most of the day and then retire southward toward Midway to avoid running afoul of a possible surface force approaching in the darkness. Anticipation in both task forces ran high. “Morale was excellent.”48