On the night of 4 June following a naval victory seldom equaled, Fletcher’s TF-17 (minus stricken Yorktown and guardian Hughes) and Spruance’s TF-16 (Enterprise and Hornet) withdrew east. After releasing Spruance from his command, Fletcher looked to facilitate the salvage of the Yorktown and secure the proper disposition of her survivors. He left the next phase of the fighting solely to Spruance, who reckoned that night that although four carriers had been disabled or sunk, the battle was far from over. One damaged carrier might still be operating, or a fresh flattop reached the area. He would avoid a night battle with surface ships that could devastate his force, then determine where best to commit the fragile air power of the Enterprise and Hornet, now some sixty-five flyable SBDs, fifty-four F4F fighters, and three TBDs. Spruance desired by first light on 5 June to be 175 miles northeast of Midway, from where he could either engage surviving carriers if any remained in range, pursue retreating forces, or protect Midway in the remote event the invasion was still on.1
Early that morning Midway reported a brief shelling believed from a sub, actually the I-168. Cincpac’s 0300 bulletin set off alarm bells. The Tambor (Lt. Cdr. John W. Murphy), one of eleven subs taking up the northeast-southwest arc one hundred miles from the island, warned that as of 0217 “many unidentified surface ships” lurked only ninety miles west of Midway. Spruance awoke to word that Midway was about to be invaded. At 0420 he raced southwest toward Midway. TF-16 must break through the covering force and disrupt the landing. At the same time Captain Simard warily continued the scheduled air operations. At 0415 ten PBYs taxied out for the dawn search, reduced this day to 250–020 degrees to only 250 miles. A few minutes later eight B-17s sought the ships located by the Tambor just to the west. First light revealed “foggy haze,” with scattered squalls and low visibility. The Tambor’s intruders were actually Kurita’s bombardment force of four heavy cruisers. After penetrating the U.S. sub line unseen, Kurita drew within fifty miles of his objective, when at 0045, in response to Yamamoto’s orders, he retired northwest to the great fleet rendezvous. At 0218 his lookouts discerned the surfaced Tambor at almost the same instant her watchers spotted ships. While evading, the Mikuma swung into the path of the Mogami, which struck her amidships on the port side above the waterline. The collision bent the Mogami’s slender bow all the way back to the forward turret. It later had to be cut off. Kurita left the less-damaged Mikuma behind to escort the stricken Mogami to the west, while he took the two intact cruisers to join Yamamoto.2
Murphy trailed the cripples until sunrise when, following his original orders, he submerged. At 0600 he radioed his only amplifying report that placed two “Moyagi (sic)” cruisers, one damaged, 115 miles west of Midway and headed west at seventeen knots. Nimitz had the message in hand by 0630, Midway local time, but it failed to ease his deep concern. The “many” ships could have pressed on to Midway. Only Simard could clarify the situation. After consulting Cincpac, Admiral English, the Pacific Fleet sub commander, alerted his skippers at 0647: “Believe enemy will attempt landing Midway today.” All eleven subs were to surface, run at top speed to within five miles of the island, and “develop all contacts.” At 0707 Nimitz forwarded the initial PBY contacts made at 0630. The first placed two battleships 125 miles west of Midway and westbound at fifteen knots, and the second noted two destroyers on nearly the same bearing but closer in at one hundred miles. He told King, Fletcher, Spruance, and Simard of “strong indications” Japan “will attempt assault and occupation Midway regardless past losses.” At the time, though, only the two imperiled heavy cruisers were anywhere near Midway.3
Carrier operations, 5 June 1942
Closing Midway rapidly from the northeast, Spruance awaited fresh intelligence to help him decide how best to counter an invasion. The skies cleared sufficiently by 0830 for the carriers to deploy a combat air patrol. They also prepared strike groups of SBDs. Spruance advised Cincpac he might cross English’s sub line “in pursuit of Jap units.” Sixty miles was as close as he cared to approach Midway. He turned west. The supposed battleship-cruiser targets were then some 150–180 miles southwest, just within strike range. Apparently Browning recommended attacking, but Spruance wanted to see what else was happening, particularly whether any carriers were sighted. That soon occurred. Around 0900 Cincpac detailed two sightings 240 and 250 miles northwest of Midway and about forty-five miles apart. At 0800 Lt. Donald G. Gumz of VP-44 sighted a burning carrier, two battleships, and three or four cruisers bearing 324 degrees, 240 miles from Midway. They retired northwest at twelve knots. Twenty minutes later Ens. David Silver of VP-24 reported a carrier 335 degrees and 250 miles from Midway, course 245 degrees. B-17s would take on the first (Gumz’s) contact once they dealt with the ships to the west. The two “battleships” west of Midway grew to three, now 130 miles out. About two hundred miles northwest (325 degrees) of Midway were ten more ships, including five destroyers, said to be hastening northwest at twenty-five knots.4
Silver’s single carrier was 220 miles northwest of TF-16, but because Cincpac and Simard soon dismissed it, Spruance did too. At 240 miles Gumz’s damaged carrier was well out of strike range, given the same contrary, light southeasterly winds as the previous day. To attack a target that was downwind, Spruance would have to steam at high speed almost directly away during launch, and thus considerably increase the outbound leg of the mission. Concerned about the possible assault on Midway, he resolved for the time being not to pursue the crippled carrier to the northwest. If the invasion was actually under way, the putative “fifth” carrier could well be within attack range of Midway. During the next two hours TF-16, heading west, passed north of Midway while retaining the option of pursuing either the ships to the west or northwest. Because of the Monaghan’s critically low fuel, Spruance detached her to rescue a downed PBY crew and then join the Yorktown salvage force. His other six destroyers were not markedly better off.5
Deciding by 1120 there was no longer a direct threat to Midway, Spruance chased the burning carrier, reckoned then about 225 miles ahead. Unfortunately that contact was “rather cold.” With only one chance before dark to hit one part of the widely scattered Japanese forces, he held off as long as he dared in case an undamaged carrier popped up within range. Buell questioned whether Spruance should have searched, but considering how close he was to Midway, that would have unnecessarily duplicated the shore-based effort. At 1223 he learned that Midway’s radio direction finder detected enemy signals bearing 315 degrees, at least confirming the general direction. Midway advised the battleship force previously located 130 miles to the west was actually three Mogami or Tone class cruisers, two of which were damaged. They were said to be trailing a cavalcade of six transports and two light cruisers, a very misleading report because the transport force was actually nearly four hundred miles farther west.6
If the hurt carrier maintained reported course and speed, Spruance could count on gaining about ten miles every hour. It appears he intended to unleash the Enterprise and Hornet SBDs at 1500, with the target about 190 miles ahead. Running southeast into the wind during launch would increase the outbound leg to 225 miles, a very long haul for SBDs lugging 1,000-pound bombs, but doable if TF-16 resumed closing the target at high speed. At 1420, however, Spruance belatedly learned from Cincpac that the target, now greatly enhanced, might actually be thirty-five miles farther northwest. When Gumz returned to Midway, he gave a new position for the “burning carrier” as of 0930 and added a nearby second carrier, “not burning,” two battleships, three heavy cruisers, and five to ten destroyers. Nimitz declared, “This force particularly carriers is your best target.” Unfortunately Cincpac erred by attributing the updated position to 0800 rather than 0930 and failed to forward the message in a timely fashion. Now with the carrier force substantially farther from TF-16, some 230 miles as opposed to 195 miles, Browning urged all SBDs take off immediately. The need to turn away while launching would raise the outbound navigational leg toward 270 miles, but he relied on the usual over-optimistic Point Option advance of twenty-five knots to shorten the return flight sufficiently for them to make it back.7
Trusting the judgment of his top aviation advisor, Spruance naturally concurred. The new attack plan triggered an eruption in the Enterprise. The orphaned squadron leaders Lieutenant Short (VS-5) and Lt. Dewitt W. Shumway (VB-3) could hardly believe the strike orders. Hoping the air staff was “approachable” (certainly the case in Fletcher’s Yorktown), they sought help from above to get the orders modified. Murray and the wounded McClusky were appalled. The four officers stormed into the flag shelter to protest personally to Browning. McClusky flatly stated SBDs could not go 270 miles with a 1,000-pound bomb and have a prayer of coming back. He urgently requested they be rearmed with 500-pound bombs and the launch be delayed at least an hour to gain a few more precious miles relative to the target. Browning adamantly refused. The discussion became so heated that Spruance strolled over and asked what was the matter. After hearing both sides of the argument, he overruled his imperious chief of staff for the first time. “I’ll do whatever the pilots want.” His pride grievously injured, Browning stomped down to his stateroom and fumed until another staff officer cajoled him into returning topside. The revised plan substituted 500-pound bombs for the SBDs equipped with the bigger payload (probably half the total), but the strike was to leave on schedule. It appears the TF-16 staff simply instructed the Hornet to rearm with 500-pound bombs and set Point Option on 315 degrees at twenty-five knots. In yet another episode of incredible negligence, no one in the Enterprise thought to inform Mitscher that the enemy was actually somewhere else than previously reported. They blithely assumed that Mitscher had all the information they did and could figure out on his own how to get his planes there. Mitscher, naturally thinking the enemy must still be within range of SBDs with 1,000-pound bombs, did not bother rearming his Dauntlesses that carried them.8
At 1500 Spruance reversed TF-16 southeast into the wind, and within forty-five minutes sixty-five SBDs scurried northwest in three groups. The Hornet, reckoning the target as a damaged carrier bearing 315 degrees and 212 miles, sent two deck load strikes. Commander Ring led the first wave of twelve SBDs armed with 500-pound bombs. The second wave of twenty-one SBDs, some with 1,000-pound bombs, left a half hour later. The one flight of thirty-two Enterprise SBDs expected to find two carriers bearing 324 degrees, 265 miles. All suffered disappointment. Ring searched one hundred miles beyond the expected intercept point but found only a lone light cruiser or destroyer 278 miles out. Near to sundown his pilots scored no hits on the agile warship. The Enterprise SBDs attacked the same opponent with the same poor results but tragically lost Lt. Sam Adams of VS-5, one of the great heroes of the battle. The second Hornet flight never sighted anything and turned back with its bombs. The object of everyone’s attention was the doughty destroyer Tanikaze, which also evaded a blizzard of bombs from B-17s and winged one bomber that later splashed.9
The Tanikaze’s stellar defense was Japan’s only high point on an otherwise dismal 5 June. Her presence stemmed from confusion resulting from the haste in abandoning the burning Hiryū. At dawn two destroyers supposedly provided the coup de grâce with a salvo of torpedoes and took off. Yet at 0630 a search plane from light carrier Hōshō with Yamamoto’s Main Force sighted the wrecked Hiryū adrift. Yamamoto inquired of Nagumo whether she had indeed sunk. Nagumo sent the Tanikaze back to find out. Ensign Silver showed up about forty minutes before the valiant carrier slipped beneath the waves. In turn Gumz discovered Kondō’s Main Force, including two fast battleships and light carrier Zuihō, bound for the fleet rendezvous. The impression of a ship “burning” probably arose from the dense smoke Japanese ships showed when they were moving fast. Unfortunately Gumz drastically underestimated their speed, twenty-four knots instead of twelve. Spruance never had a chance to attack them. It is not known what led Gumz to believe a second carrier was present. The elderly Hōshō was nowhere nearby.10
After dispatching his dive bombers Spruance hastened northwest at twenty-five knots to close the enemy. At that time Nimitz belatedly advised: “Believe enemy through lack of air support probably considers he is unable to carry out landing and is retiring.” The second carrier, said previously not to be burning, was now “smoking badly and proceeding at slow speed.” That optimism expired when Spruance heard “disquieting information” from the lead group of B-17s that turned up only a single cruiser (the Tanikaze). After dark the SBDs had not returned. Despite the risk of subs, Spruance courageously illuminated the carriers with the deck side lights and shone searchlights overhead to guide the flyers home. These measures were extremely successful. Many pilots made their first night carrier landing without a hitch. Only one Hornet SBD ditched from lack of fuel (the crew was rescued). The others landed safely, though not all on their own carriers. Spruance decided his planes hit two separate light cruisers or destroyers. He was irritated that two Hornet SBDs that set down on the Enterprise carried 1,000-pound bombs despite his express order to rearm with 500-pounders. It only reinforced his increasing distrust of Mitscher, who certainly could counter with his own case against the TF-16 staff.11
After recovering his planes, Spruance slowed to fifteen knots to conserve oil, now at a critical state in his destroyers. Almost as if reading his mind, Nimitz directed the Cimarron to break off her circuit seven hundred miles east and rendezvous with Spruance on 8 June 175 miles north of Midway. The oiler would follow a designated latitude west so Spruance could meet her earlier if necessary. It is interesting Nimitz took this task upon himself, instead of waiting for Spruance to set his own fueling rendezvous. Keeping an eye on the Aleutians, he needed TF-16 ready should he wish to send it north. With the northwest no longer productive, Spruance sought to cut across a possible line of retreat of the forces west of Midway. Once again he proceeded cautiously at night lest he run afoul of battleships. He would see what his own search might turn up the next morning, when TF-16 would be so far from Midway the PBYs would require three hours just to reach its location.12
Nimitz radioed a summary of the situation on the evening of 5 June. He believed (correctly) he could verify the sinking of two carriers on 4 June. Given the “enemy is without air,” he suggested his commanders consider surface attacks by light forces, but he did so mostly for King’s benefit. Later that night he again encouraged his weary forces, whose “efforts and sacrifices,” that were “crowned with glorious success,” had “already changed the course of the war in the Pacific in our favor.” The “enemy is attempting to withdraw his wounded ships.” Thus “if you follow up your success vigorously he will be so crushed that his total defeat will be inevitable.” In truth Nimitz was deeply disappointed that his main forces had not achieved more on 5 June. Later he was irate that when the Tambor made her 0215 contact, the enemy ships were seen heading west away from Midway. Her inaccurate reporting squandered Spruance’s pursuit.13
Well away from the main action, Fletcher also endured a frustrating 5 June. The previous night he approved the plan to salvage the Yorktown. The essential personnel were to assemble in the Astoria, then shift to the Hammann. At the same time the Hammann, Balch, and Benham were to transfer their other passengers to the Portland. Buckmaster would then lead those three destroyers back to the Yorktown and undertake the salvage. The Anderson would also hand over her load of Yorktown personnel to the Portland and escort Fletcher’s Astoria to the Saratoga group. Captain DuBose would take the Portland, Morris, and Russell southeast to meet the Fulton pounding up from Pearl and off-load the survivors. Thereafter TF-17 would reassemble around the Saratoga. The plan sounded simple, but its execution took longer than anyone foresaw.14
Just after sunrise on 5 June, when about 175 miles southeast of the Yorktown and 250 miles northeast of Midway, Fletcher started west at ten knots, as slow as he cared to go and still retain some protection against subs. Fortunately the sea was relatively calm, with light southeasterly winds. At 0600 the Balch moved alongside the Portland to off-load survivors by means of trolley lines rigged to use mail bags as breeches buoys. At the same time the Benham came abreast of the Astoria to deliver her designated salvage personnel. So many Yorktowners were eager to volunteer, they had to be prevented from coming across. Then the Benham took her turn alongside the Portland for the really big transfer of nearly seven hundred men. With the destroyers down to 50 percent fuel and no certainty of the next refueling opportunity, the Portland provided oil in return for the Yorktown men. The Benham remained alongside for four hours. One of the Portland’s officers, amazed at how many men were coming over, called out: “You must think this ship is the Grand Hotel!” While the Benham was busy with the Portland, Buckmaster took the 180 men of the salvage crew over to the Hammann. Yeoman Frank Boo was one, having implored Fletcher to allow him to go back and retrieve an unfinished Coral Sea action report from the flag office. At the same time Fletcher sent his trusted emissary Schindler to the Portland. He would ride the Fulton to Pearl and brief Cincpac. At 1230 Fletcher turned southeast into the wind to ease conditions and expedite the transfers and fueling. Cincpac set the rendezvous with the Fulton on 6 June 650 miles northwest of Oahu. The Saratoga, San Diego, and four destroyers were to depart Pearl that afternoon and meet Fletcher before dark on 7 June 475 miles northwest of Pearl.15
Confident the tide of the battle turned, Nimitz radioed Fletcher at 1317: “Will make every effort to save Yorktown. Take no steps for her destruction without referring decision to me.” That was certainly Fletcher’s intention. The Anderson took her turn alongside the Portland to relinquish her load of survivors and draw fuel. The Portland accommodated the Hammann and likewise fueled the Balch, which already off-loaded personnel. Near sundown Fletcher released Buckmaster (CTG-17.5) with the Hammann, Balch, and Benham to rejoin the Yorktown and Hughes 150 miles northwest. He himself headed southeast at twenty-five knots with the Astoria, Portland, Morris, Anderson, and Russell toward the Fulton. Fletcher also asked Cincpac to direct the oiler Platte to meet him on the afternoon of 6 June to fuel before he joined the Saratoga group.16
In the meantime Commander Ramsey’s Hughes faithfully stood guard alone over the disabled carrier. The jittery night brought only one brief radar contact. After dawn, however, her SC radar detected an enemy aircraft circling twenty miles northwest. Indeed the Chikuma Number Four seaplane radioed the sighting of a Yorktown-class carrier listing and adrift north of Midway. Yamamoto ordered the I-168 to locate and destroy her. That morning the Hughes sent a party on board the Yorktown and found the two wounded men, but also unsecured cipher materials. The Naval War College analysts cited that as evidence of “unnecessary haste” when the Yorktown was first abandoned. Little Vireo took the Yorktown under tow early that afternoon and inched eastward with the carrier (her rudder jammed hard over) “yawing quite badly.” Later that afternoon Commander Holcomb in the Gwin joined the Hughes and took charge. The Monaghan, detached from TF-16, soon appeared on the scene. The destroyers furnished small salvage parties that despite their enthusiasm did not accomplish much before being recalled at dark. Any serious effort to save the Yorktown required Buckmaster’s professionals.17
On the morning of 5 June Pye swept out of San Francisco with the other five TF-1 battleships, the Long Island, and five destroyers to join Anderson’s battleship group on patrol. The previous morning he informed Nimitz of his intention, “Unless otherwise directed,” to proceed to a “support position” one thousand miles west of California. His battleships would form a last line of defense should the Japanese get past the carriers and make for Hawaii. When Nimitz failed to respond immediately, Pye sent a second message only a few hours before sailing. He no longer talked about assuming a “support position,” but simply stated he would advance one thousand miles and await orders. If none were received, he would return to the West Coast on 19 June. Nimitz replied with a grudging “affirmative” several hours after TF-1 went to sea. McCormick pointed out that Cincpac had nothing to do with initiating this apparently useless cruise that only served to raise morale among the battleship sailors.18
At dawn on 6 June with TF-16 about 340 miles northwest of Midway, the Enterprise dispatched eighteen SBDs (including five from the Hornet) to search the western semicircle to two hundred miles. At the same time the Hornet prepared a strike. At 0645 Ens. William D. Carter placed one carrier and five destroyers just 128 miles southwest (233 degrees) of TF-16 and crawling west at ten knots. The southwesterly wind now allowed Spruance to close the target while conducting flight operations. He advised he was charging the enemy at twenty-five knots and told any destroyer badly short of fuel to break off for the Cimarron. Having finally taken the measure of Browning and the Carpac staff, Spruance directed Kinkaid to have cruiser float planes search southwest to 150 miles and track any ships located. With the enemy so close and winds favorable, the SOCs could undertake the “tactical scouting” so lacking the previous two days and also reserve the SBDs for strikes.19
Carrier operations, 6 June 1942
At 0730, another Hornet search pilot, Ens. Roy P. Gee, dropped a message on the Enterprise’s deck. At 0645 he sighted two enemy cruisers and two destroyers 133 miles southwest (209 degrees) of TF-16 and headed southwest at fifteen knots. Thus the “cruiser” force was fifty miles southeast of the “carrier” force. Gee’s ship identification was much better than Carter’s, but not his navigation. Only the Mikuma and Mogami and destroyers Arashio and Asashio were present near Carter’s location. They plodded west at twelve knots, the battered Mogami’s best speed. The confusion engendered by the two initial reports persisted until after the war. Spruance naturally desired the “carrier” first. At 0757 twenty-six SBDs and eight F4Fs started taking off from the Hornet. At the same time the Enterprise respotted her flight deck to recover the search SBDs. Spruance noted in his war diary because the Enterprise had “but few planes exclusive of search planes in the air,” he held the balance of her group “in reserve for additional attack as required.” In fact the Enterprise had eighteen flyable SBDs in addition to those on search, more than a “few.” Spruance obviously adopted Fletcher’s earlier tactic of wait-and-see with part of his striking force. About that time King transmitted a message in the clear addressed to Nimitz but obviously meant for the Japanese. Cominch praised the forces fighting at Midway who, he predicted, “Will continue to make the enemy realize that war is hell.” That day the Mikuma-Mogami force joined the ranks of those introduced to Gen. William Sherman’s timeless dictum.20
At 0838 after five search SBDs landed on board the Hornet, Mitscher hastily changed Carter’s original sighting report of a carrier to a battleship. Like John Nielsen the previous month, Carter was surprised when asked about the carrier he supposedly discovered. Spruance personally checked the text of the message drop that Carter made on the Enterprise. It, like the radio message, gave “1 CV.” Evidently Carter’s radioman misunderstood him to say “1 CV” when he meant “1 BB.” This was yet another example of how the task force commanders were at the mercy of the sighting reports. At 0850 Browning advised the Hornet group, “Target BB instead of CV.” Mitscher also learned from Carter and Gee that they had not searched their sectors after sighting enemy ships. He cautioned Spruance, “This leaves an area from ahead and to port beam of enemy BB not searched where carrier may be.” Spruance’s foresight in using the cruiser SOCs paid off, because they already covered the area in question.21
The Hornet’s strike found the cruisers at 0950. The bowless Mogami looked so different than her sister Mikuma, now thought to be the fabled battleship. The more agile Mikuma evaded all bombs (although the Hornet flyers claimed three hits), but the hurt Mogami suffered two 1,000-pound hits. Antiaircraft accounted for one SBD. Slonim’s radio intelligence unit in the Enterprise interpreted anxious calls for help as coming from no less than the commander of the Second Fleet (Kondō). At 0950 Spruance informed the task force, “We believe he is in the battleship being bombed.” That is another example of the casual dissemination of radio intelligence that later would not be tolerated. With such a tempting target at hand, the Enterprise launched thirty-one SBDs with 1,000-pound bombs and twelve fighters. At the last minute Spruance added the three flyable VT-6 TBDs in hopes of torpedoing the battlewagon, but he told the senior surviving TBD pilot not to go in if he saw any accurate antiaircraft fire at all. The TBDs never attacked. At least five bombs tore up the Mikuma topside and started fires that eventually cooked off the torpedo stowage. The Arashio moved in to take off the crew. Despite two more hits, the mutilated Mogami lurched westward.22
Circumstances militated against continuing the pursuit, but for the time being the aggressive Spruance kept his ships pointed southwest. At 1242 he released the Maury (14 percent fuel) and Worden (22 percent) to retire to the Cimarron. The four remaining destroyers were only marginally better off.23 Cautioned by Slonim’s radio team, Spruance alerted TF-16 of “possible attack by long range bombers from Wake Island.” Despite all, he lingered for one more try to finish off the tenacious cripples. At 1420 after the second Hornet strike of twenty-four SBDs and eight F4Fs departed, Spruance reversed course to stay beyond seven hundred miles of Wake, the accepted radius of enemy land-based bombers. With the target only ninety miles off, he need not close farther. Nimitz advised that the Saratoga would provide replacements for TF-16. “I will arrange for transfer of planes to you on completion of your fueling,” with “deployment thereafter” to “depend on the situation.” Spruance did well to look to the stormy North Pacific, for Cincpac warned, “Interception of enemy forces returning from Aleutians may be attempted.”24
In the meantime the Hornet flyers put another 1,000-pound bomb into the Mogami (the “CA”), while the “BB” (Mikuma) crew abandoned ship. Because of the initial confusion, the TF-16 staff still did not know the exact composition of the force they pounded for the last five hours. Spruance authorized a photo mission by two Enterprise SBDs. By the time they returned at 1900, he decided that he “pushed our luck to the westward far enough” and turned northeast. The four remaining destroyers were critically low on fuel, and his aviators were exhausted. The excellent photos taken by the last Enterprise flight proved the hapless Mikuma was indeed a cruiser. Before these photos could be evaluated, Spruance advised Cincpac that the “battleship” was left “gutted and abandoned,” one destroyer was sunk, and two heavy cruisers, including possibly the flagship of the Second Fleet, suffered 1,000-pound bomb hits. Nimitz eventually concluded TF-16 attacked the Mogami and Mikuma and three or four destroyers and finished off the Mikuma. As late as 1943 Cominch disagreed, asserting there were two groups all along, one of which might have included a battleship, and that all the ships had been damaged and one heavy cruiser sunk. That three full carrier strikes put down only one already damaged heavy cruiser and let another cripple escape vastly reinforced the extraordinary nature of the circumstances of 4 June, when the SBDs caught all four carriers with fueled and armed planes in their hangar decks.25
By the evening of 6 June the code breakers confirmed to Cincpac that the leader of the First Air Fleet (Nagumo) had shifted from the Akagi to light cruiser Nagara. Thus the Akagi either sank or was severely damaged. It certainly did look if at least one crippled carrier sank on 5 June, although no one knew how many, if any, got away. Spruance radioed that all four carriers were destroyed, but Nimitz did not accept that glorious assessment for another week. As yet he saw no evidence the carriers in the Aleutian waters were being shifted south toward Midway. Instead they might be ordered back to Japan. Even so, he warned his commanders that the enemy retirement “may be temporary.” A search plane again sighted Japanese carriers south of the Aleutians. “All forces must be alert and prepared for enemy action.” Nimitz informed King of the Saratoga’s imminent departure from Pearl. She would deliver plane reinforcements to TF-16 and then “act as circumstances indicate.” Spruance’s carriers would go to the Aleutians “if situation continues favorable in Midway area.”26
Returning to the Yorktown at 0220 on 6 June, Buckmaster found her condition essentially unchanged, except a bit more down by the bow. From then on he acted vigorously in a way even Morison praised. The salvage party climbed on board at 0330. Buckmaster personally inspected all accessible compartments. After dawn while the Vireo continued her slow tow, the Hammann moved snugly alongside the Yorktown’s high (starboard) side and provided power for pumps and also water to extinguish the one small fire that smoldered forward. The other five destroyers circled two thousand yards out on antisubmarine patrol. By early afternoon counter flooding and weight jettisoned topside had reduced the Yorktown’s list by 2 degrees. Things were looking up. Buckmaster anticipated bringing the engines back on line once he could pump dry the necessary spaces and returning the Yorktown to Pearl under her own power. All he needed were the two salvage tugs that were en route. Suddenly at 1336 shocked lookouts spotted a spread of four torpedoes churning directly for the starboard side of the linked Hammann and Yorktown. One fish from Lt. Cdr. Tanabe Yahachi’s I-168 struck the destroyer, and two others, running close together, passed underneath and blew a huge hole amidships near the bottom of the Yorktown’s hull. The shattered Hammann sank by the bow in three minutes. Her depth charges exploded under the surface, killed many of her crew, and inflicted severe shock damage to the carrier. Extensive flooding took 5 degrees off the Yorktown’s list as she settled deeper into the water. Buckmaster hoped he could still save his ship. “With help will bring her in.” He spoke more from emotion than calculation, as all damage control failed. By dark the salvage crew abandoned ship. First light on 7 June revealed the Yorktown listing sharply to port, with the edge of her flight deck almost awash. At 0444 she started to turn over on her port side and at 0501 capsized and sank by the stern, not to be seen again for fifty-six years.27
The initial reaction to the loss of the Yorktown under such circumstances was surprise that a sub penetrated a screen of five destroyers and picked her off. Critics later speculated whether Fletcher unnecessarily delayed her salvage and thus rendered her an easy target. Morison described Fletcher and Buckmaster undertaking nothing constructive until noon, 5 June, when finally they “decided to do what they should have done the previous evening, to send a proper salvage party on board the carrier and attempt to bring her to port.” That lassitude supposedly prevailed even after a dawn message that Ramsey, commanding officer of the Hughes, was said to have radioed Cincpac (and presumably Fletcher), advising the Yorktown could be saved. Robert Barde likewise blamed Fletcher’s “indecision,” in that “had prompt salvage efforts been instituted on 5 June, the ill fortune of the Yorktown on the following day might have been avoided.” He agreed that Fletcher had to be goaded into action by Ramsey’s message. In July 1942 Nimitz remarked in his endorsement of Buckmaster’s Loss of Ship Report that, “in general,” he “approved” Fletcher’s actions. Later he changed his mind. He and Potter declared in The Great Sea War, “Prompter and more determined damage control might have saved the Yorktown.” The charge that Fletcher and Buckmaster sat on their hands until noon on 5 June can be dismissed out of hand. From the evening of 4 June the two men busily organized the salvage effort. Equally telling, there was no Ramsey message. His report did not mention sending one, and the Cincpac message file has no record of it. If one cannot fault the will of both Fletcher and Buckmaster to save the Yorktown, their judgment can certainly be questioned. The transfer process took longer than they anticipated. Smith regretted, “We had lost thirty-six important hours in the attempted salvage of Yorktown.” Instead, as noted, the key was to have the last ditch salvage parties already organized. Fletcher suggested that to Nimitz on his return to Pearl. Nimitz issued a letter of instruction to that effect, and King directed that if possible one or two salvage tugs be made available to the task forces whenever action was pending.28
In retrospect it appears the Yorktown’s sudden complete loss of power, her dire condition, and the nearness of the enemy combined to delay effective salvage. Had any one of these factors not been present, Fletcher and Buckmaster would have had an easier time saving her. In hindsight probably the only way to have avoided the I-168 was if a cruiser commenced towing her either the night of 4/5 June or early the next morning. That did not appear feasible under the circumstances prevailing at the time. Morison called the “abandonment and subsequent loss” of the Yorktown “the one blot on an otherwise golden scroll of victory” at Midway. It certainly harmed the reputations of both Fletcher and Buckmaster. Perhaps all of that was not too high a cost for such a tremendous triumph. On 8 June Spruance wrote Fletcher, “It was tough luck that the Yorktown had to stand those two attacks,” and, “If it had not been for what you did and took with the Yorktown, I am firmly convinced that we would have been badly defeated and the Japs would be holding Midway today.”29
Early on 6 June Fletcher detached DuBose’s group (Portland, Morris, and Russell) crammed with Yorktown survivors to meet the oncoming Fulton. He himself pressed eastward with the Astoria and Anderson to fuel from the Platte. That afternoon Nimitz had to delay the departure of the Saratoga group (TG-11.1) until the next morning (it had only arrived on 6 June) and postponed the rendezvous until 8 June two hundred miles closer to Pearl. Fletcher had time to fuel, reunite his force, and be there on schedule. Late that afternoon came the sad news of the torpedoing of the Yorktown. Fletcher could only hope Buckmaster’s optimism of saving her was warranted. Near to sundown he completed fueling. Not until well after dark did the last of the nearly twenty-two hundred survivors cross over to the Fulton and her two escorts. DuBose returned as expected early on 7 June and took his turn alongside the Platte. Later that morning Fletcher released the oiler to Pearl, while TF-17 shaped course southeast to meet the Saratoga task group the next day. Even the terrible word of the sinking of the Yorktown could not erase the great relief on the U.S. ships as the staggering scope of the Midway victory became apparent.30
Inasmuch as overall enemy intentions remained unclear despite the debacle off Midway, the top brass reassessed their options. King speculated whether the second enemy carrier group had already left the Aleutians. “Consider strong possibility that part or all of this force departed that area night of 4/5 June for rendezvous to the southwest with retreating Midway forces and possibly with the remainder of the Combined Fleet.” The Alaskan command begged to differ. Rear Adm. Charles S. Freeman (Commander, Northwest Sea Frontier) warned that the situation there was “rapidly deteriorating.” The enemy’s puzzling “cat and mouse tactics” were “wearing us down preliminary to delivering all out attack.” Now that Midway was secure, Freeman recommended “quick reinforcement” of Alaska, where the “need approaches desperation.” King swiftly changed his mind. Citing Freeman’s message with its “indications of continued presence of Orange force in the Aleutians,” he told Nimitz to consider sending the Saratoga there with a strong force and offered land-based air reinforcements as well.31
Nimitz already inclined in that direction and chose Spruance to go north. That afternoon he set the rendezvous for the morning of 10 June 650 miles northeast of Midway. Fletcher would provide the planes and personnel to restore the Enterprise and Hornet to “best practicable strength,” and return to Pearl. TF-16 was to voyage north to the aptly named Point Blow, only 425 miles southwest of Dutch Harbor. There on the afternoon of 12 June he would come under the command of CTF-8, his classmate “Fuzzy” Theobald, whose mission was to “destroy or drive out enemy forces in the Aleutian-Alaskan area.” Nimitz explained to King why he did not commit Fletcher and the Saratoga instead. Not only did the job properly require two carriers, but also the ragtag Saratoga Air Group itself was not ready for combat.32
On the afternoon of 8 June Fletcher transferred his flag and incorporated the Saratoga group into TF-17. The giant old carrier was in excellent shape, much enhanced after the repair of the torpedo damage and a major refit. Capt. Dewitt Clinton “Duke” Ramsey, who took command in May, was a 1912 Annapolis graduate from New York who qualified as naval aviator number forty-five in 1917. Sharp-witted, level headed, and personable, he prospered in a wide variety of operational and staff posts as well as at the Naval War College. In 1937–38 he served as the fleet aviation officer for Cincus, then as executive officer of the Sara, before reporting in 1939 to Buaer. As Jack Towers’s protégé, he rose to assistant chief in 1941. The Saratoga improved dramatically under Ramsey’s firm hand. Fletcher found him a highly capable and congenial shipmate. Ramsey only reached Pearl on 6 June and immediately refueled. The Saratoga now carried 107 planes (forty-seven fighters, forty-five dive bombers, and fifteen torpedo planes, including ten new TBFs) from all or parts of seven squadrons, most of which never served together. Ramsey sailed the next morning with the Saratoga, San Diego, oiler Kaskaskia, and five destroyers. Fitch, disappointed to miss Midway, reached Pearl in the Chester on 8 June.33
Fletcher’s reconstituted TF-17 set off at fifteen knots to meet TF-16 some seven hundred miles northwest. Likewise that day Spruance reassembled his force and saw to its logistical needs. At dawn he met the Cimarron 235 miles north of Midway and fueled his destroyers, all of which were nearly out of oil. The Balch and Monaghan, accompanied by the orphaned Hughes, rejoined after their grim sojourn with the Yorktown. Later that day the oiler Guadalupe arrived from Midway with a welcome load of aviation gasoline and more black oil. Spruance fueled during the day, ran northeast at night, and resumed fueling on the ninth. Another overnight dash at twenty knots saw him to the rendezvous with Fletcher. Then it was the stormy Aleutians and perhaps another carrier battle.34
Early on 9 June occurred the last gasp of the MI Operation. Cincpac intercepted plain language messages, complete with position, course, and speed, purportedly from a disabled enemy fleet unit fumbling about northeast of Wake. Nimitz, who knew Spruance was in no position to intercept anyway, correctly warned him, “This may be deception.” Yamamoto detailed Admiral Takagi’s 5th Cruiser Division to simulate the calls of a battleship in distress and hopefully draw overconfident pursuers into a trap. He had no takers. Equally symbolic of the vast reversal of fortune, the Nagara drew alongside flagship Yamato that day and delivered chief of staff Kusaka, air staff officer Genda, and a few others (but not Nagumo) to report to Yamamoto. Kusaka prefaced his statement: “I don’t know what to say except to offer utmost apologies.”35
During 9 June the odds of Spruance having to sail north dramatically lessened. Theobald’s searchers found no trace of the Japanese in the Aleutians. Consequently King reinstated his assessment that the Midway and Aleutian attack forces, now three carriers including the Zuikaku, gathered somewhere in the northwest Pacific and predicted they would race down to the South or southwest Pacific before the United States could react. Therefore deploying Spruance to the Aleutians was “questionable.” Nimitz replied that if nothing major turned up in the Aleutians that day or the next, he would return Spruance to Pearl Harbor. The enemy might have landed troops somewhere in the Aleutians, but he had no proof. In fact the Japanese occupied both Kiska and Attu in the western Aleutians on 7 June without resistance.36
By dawn on 10 June a thick overcast shrouded the two carrier task forces. Scheduled to reach far-off Point Blow on 12 June, Spruance was in a bind, because no aircraft could fly. After 0800 he received a welcome reprieve. Nimitz told him not to start north until he received new orders. Meanwhile, he told Fletcher to arrive at Pearl during forenoon on 13 June. Nimitz explained to King that TF-16 would stay where it was until he knew more of what transpired in the Aleutians. Having located each other by radar, the two task forces moved south in hopes the weather might cooperate later that afternoon. In less than an hour heavy fog closed in. By dawn on 11 June, about two hundred miles south of the original rendezvous, the weather cleared sufficiently for flight operations. The Saratoga promptly ferried ten SBDs and five TBDs to the Enterprise and nine SBDs and ten TBFs to the Hornet. Immediately thereafter Fletcher set course for Pearl eight hundred miles southeast, while TF-16 started north toward Point Blow, now twelve hundred miles away.37
Spruance did not get far. Shortly after 0900 Nimitz ordered TF-16 to return to Pearl. The previous day he learned of enemy troops on Kiska and Attu and conceded a “strong screening force” would contest any U.S. reaction to the loss of the two islands. Instead, he proposed to recall TF-16 and the “fleet units” of Theobald’s TF-8 to Pearl and later commit them against a “greater threat to our interests,” namely Port Moresby and the South Pacific bases. King approved, “Especially as regards preparation TF 16 for future operations.” He did suggest the TF-8 cruisers and destroyers join Pye’s TF-1 battleships, “For operations and training approximately on line Dutch Harbor [to] Pearl pending further developments.” Nimitz previously directed TF-1 to a position 1,650 miles northeast of Midway (Pye reached there on the tenth), and had Pye maneuver the next four days, primarily to see how the Long Island worked with the battleships. He briefly contemplated joining TF-1, TF-8, and the Kaskaskia at Point Strike, eleven hundred miles north of Oahu, but soon regained his senses. King would only commit the old battleships to action without proper air support. Nimitz cut short Pye’s cruise and told him to take TF-1 to San Pedro. Only the fleet oiler Kaskaskia went north.38
As Fletcher drew closer to Pearl, he learned that he would not have the Saratoga, or indeed TF-17, for long. Nimitz stated on 12 June that Fitch was to reorganize TF-11 around the Sara immediately upon her return to Pearl, then run out to Midway around 18 June with a load of replacement aircraft. In the meantime the cruisers of old TF-17 needed upkeep in the Pearl Harbor Navy Yard. Fletcher had no idea where he personally would end up in the next few days.39
The victory at Midway sublimely vindicated Nimitz’s aggressive but perilous strategy of confronting the Japanese carriers while they were exposed assaulting an important base. He asserted that the battle had “frustrated the enemy’s powerful move against Midway that was undoubtedly the keystone of larger plans,” and certainly did not exaggerate. Yamamoto’s “larger plans” sought no less than the destruction of the Pacific Fleet. By late June, from more recent information derived from radio intelligence and the interrogation of prisoners, Nimitz concluded that four large carriers and a heavy cruiser went down, plus possibly another heavy cruiser and a destroyer. The cost of victory was high: the Yorktown, Hammann, 144 aircraft, and 362 dead sailors, marines, and airmen, including 104 carrier pilots and aircrew. Actual Japanese losses comprised the Akagi, Kaga, Sōryū and Hiryū, the Mikuma, more than 250 aircraft, and more than 3,057 dead. Contrary to legend, Japanese casualties did not include the majority of their carrier aviators. Instead only 110 pilots and aircrew, mainly from the valiant Hiryū Air Group, were lost.40
Immensely relieved by the scope of the victory, Nimitz was humble in the face of the effusive praise. “All participating personnel, without exception, displayed unhesitating devotion to duty, loyalty and courage.” The what-ifs would come soon enough. Not content with congratulatory messages, Nimitz made a point of greeting every group returning to Pearl, beginning the evening of 8 June with the Fulton loaded with Yorktown survivors. Cheerful and sincere, Cincpac shook hands with numerous men, commiserated with their loss, and told them how proud he was of what they did. Schindler briefed him on Fletcher’s perception of the battle and the crippling of the Yorktown. On the ninth when the Gwin and Benham reached port, Nimitz likewise sounded out Buckmaster for details as to her loss. What he learned dispelled his concern that errors by Fletcher might have cost a second carrier within a month.41
On the evening of 12 June with the arrival of the Fueling Group directly from TF-16, Nimitz received the clearest statement yet of what transpired. Spruance wrote a letter on the eighth when it looked as if a side trip to the Aleutians might substantially delay his return. His straightforward description of his decisions and actions cemented his reputation as one of the navy’s finest leaders. Spruance expressed his “admiration for the part that Fletcher in the Yorktown played in this campaign.” There was “a fine and smoothly working co-ordination between the two Task Forces before the fighting commenced.” During the battle “the Yorktown’s attack and the information her planes furnished were of vital importance to our success, which for some time,” Spruance noted with characteristic understatement, “was hanging in the balance.” Because the Yorktown happened to be between TF-16 and “the enemy’s fourth and still functioning carrier,” she “took his blows.” Another personal letter Spruance wrote on 8 June thanked Fletcher. “You were certainly fine to me all during the time the two task forces were operating together under your command, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” Fletcher reciprocated the good feeling, describing Spruance as “a splendid officer and a wonderful person,” whose “two outstanding qualities were excellent judgment and courage.”42
The biggest welcome took place on 13 June, when both carrier task forces entered Pearl to cheers and triumphal celebrations. A reception of a different sort occurred eight hours later when Nagumo reported to Yamamoto in Hiroshima bay. He had to answer for why the heart of Japan’s magnificent carrier force now lay on the bottom of the Pacific. That day Fletcher shifted his flag to his administrative office ashore. There to his surprise he found Yeoman Boo, last seen departing with the ill-fated Yorktown salvage party. “Spence, I see a ghost,” Fletcher remarked to Lewis. Boo told of crawling back on board early on 6 June onto the dark, deserted warship, with its eerie silence and slippery canted decks, as he accompanied Buckmaster on his predawn inspection. Unfortunately for history, Boo was pressed into the salvage efforts and could not retrieve the final TF-17 Coral Sea report from the locked flag office, where it rests still. Paperwork kept Fletcher busy for the next few days, but he had the satisfaction of knowing from Nimitz that his days as a carrier task force commander were far from over.43
Nimitz was generous with praise for his two task force commanders. On 13 June he included in a letter to King: “Inasmuch as Fletcher was the Senior Task Force Commander in the Battle of Midway and did an excellent job, despite the fact that the Yorktown was lost, I desire to reiterate the recommendation which I recently made by despatch and amplified to you in a personal letter, that Fletcher be designated a Task Force Commander with the rank of Vice Admiral and that he be awarded the Distinguished Service Medal.” The next day Nimitz recommended to King that Spruance also receive the DSM “for exceptionally meritorious service involving highest qualities seamanship endurance and tenacity in handling of his task force [in the] Midway engagement which resulted in defeat and heavy losses to enemy fleet.” King let the matter of Fletcher’s promotion rest, then on 19 June asked Nimitz whether “upon review of handling of Task Force 17 during Midway operations,” his views had changed. Nimitz replied: “During Midway operations Fletcher was senior task force commander in area and responsible for activities Task Forces 16 and 17. For his services Midway and prior services Coral Sea I reiterate with added emphasis my recommendations in my 092219 of May that Fletcher be designated Task Force Commander with rank Vice Admiral and awarded Distinguished Service Medal.” He again urged Spruance be decorated “for distinguished service as Commander Task Force 16 in Battle of Midway.” King gracefully acceded. “All being done as recommended.”44
Spruance commented in his 8 June letter to Nimitz that carrier “operations during this period have been most interesting and instructive.” They were all that and more, because they revealed serious flaws in U.S. aviation doctrine. In the two decades since the commissioning of the Langley, many pioneer aviators seethed over what they perceived rank injustice that prevented them from leading the carrier task forces and, for that matter, the whole navy. That non-aviators Fletcher and Spruance led the carriers at the climactic Battle of Midway especially galled them. Yet the pioneers decisively shaped the nature of the weapon that fate placed into the hands of those they considered incompetent to wield it. At Midway several of their number held key positions in Spruance’s TF-16. Marc Mitscher and George Murray were the captains of the Hornet and Enterprise, Miles Browning the TF-16 chief of staff and Spruance’s principal advisor. As previously noted, the citation for Browning’s DSM portrayed him “largely responsible” for bringing about the destruction of the enemy carriers at Midway. Historian Clark Reynolds fully concurred, stating that on the morning of 4 June Browning made “one of the shrewdest calculations in naval history.” Thus it could seem, despite the regrettable presence of the gun-club admirals, that the old line aviators indeed made the difference at Midway.45
The U.S. carrier attacks on the morning of 4 June certainly exceeded expectation. Three of four Japanese carriers sustained mortal damage before they could respond in kind. Even the trade of the Yorktown for the fourth carrier did not affect the outcome of the battle. Midway truly was an “incredible victory,” but (with apologies to Walter Lord) not so much, as commonly thought, in terms of the overall disparity of odds. Instead “incredible” better described the chances of such a poorly framed U.S. attack succeeding so brilliantly. The U.S. carriers were extremely fortunate to defeat a foe who, with a few telling exceptions, handled his aircraft far better than they did. The Achilles’ heel of Japan’s carrier force was defense, primarily from the lack of radar and adequate shipboard antiaircraft guns. The American weakness was teamwork above the squadron level. Given the mission of full-out assault by TF-16, it fell to Browning to coordinate the strike with Murray and Mitscher. Other than ordering “deferred departure,” meaning each air group was to go out as a unit in hopes of executing a concerted attack, he allowed each captain latitude to organize his strike and proceed as he saw fit. The CTF-16 staff offered no further guidance other than to point in the direction of the enemy carriers. They all did a terrible job. Fletcher and Spruance had the right to expect, once having maneuvered their task forces within striking range, that the carriers could accomplish their prime mission of delivering an effective attack and afterward retrieve their aircraft. Yet only the highly innovative Yorktown, best of all the 1942 carriers, had contrived to get all her strike planes simultaneously to the target. The TF-16 effort, upon which so much depended, proved very nearly a shambles. Most of the Hornet planes never even laid eyes on the enemy, and at the outset the Enterprise group fragmented into three widely separated elements. In addition the Enterprise’s failure to advance to Point Option, where her pilots expected to find her, lost numerous planes that otherwise survived the strike. Glorious success resulted not from any careful forethought or planning by the top brass of TF-16 but from individual initiative on the part of a few splendid leaders, the heroic sacrifice of the torpedo planes, and the dazzling skill of some of the dive bomber pilots.
Why did things go so badly with TF-16? Perhaps Bill Halsey, who kept a tight rein on his staff and his captains, was sorely missed after all. Out of necessity Spruance gave Browning a free hand to run the aviation part of the show. Browning in turn tried his best to keep his inexperienced new boss completely isolated from the process. That was in marked contrast to Fletcher, who over several months developed a close relationship with Buckmaster and several trusted mid-level Yorktown aviators. Only on the afternoon of 5 June, when Murray and other Enterprise aviation leaders vehemently protested Browning’s recommendation to send the SBDs beyond maximum range, did Spruance intervene with regard to air operations. By repute a “knowledgeable and brilliant” aviation tactician, Browning’s saturnine, sarcastic personality led to serious doubts as to his judgment and mental stability. It was said he needed the right kind of boss “to sort out good and bad ideas,” and that “Halsey had the facility of taking the best advice of Browning and overruling him when his own judgement came into conflict.” One Enterprise observer concluded that Spruance, lacking an aviation background, was definitely “handicapped in having an aviator of Browning’s type as chief of staff to advise him on air operations.” Had Halsey been at Midway, he could have been expected to know what to ask and when precisely to step in. The mounting of the great TF-16 strike might not have become the fiasco it was, the neglect of Point Option could have been averted, and the aggressive Halsey might have prevented the lethargy that followed recovery of the morning attack.46
Despite a few farsighted individuals, the question of carrier air coordination remained largely unrecognized even after the fiasco at Midway. When Fletcher returned to Pearl he found an urgent request from Nimitz seeking his personal views on carrier tactics “in light of the Coral Sea and Midway actions.” No one could claim more carrier battle experience. Following the lead of Ted Sherman (considered a pushy JCL outsider by the pioneer aviators), Fletcher fervently advocated the carriers be concentrated at least as pairs in the same task force and within the same screen. Nearly everyone else, starting with King, stuck with the old concept of single-carrier task forces and some degree of separation, although after Midway Browning also remarked to the “great advantage” of a two-carrier task force. Fletcher argued that only multi-carrier task forces provided the air strength required for effective attack and defense, as well as for the searches that circumstances often compelled the carriers themselves to make. Alone among the top carrier commanders, he stressed the necessity for coordinated strikes by air groups from different carriers, instead of the doctrinaire “wave attacks” that Fitch and Sherman employed in the Coral Sea. Fletcher desired to “present the maximum number of planes (particularly VF) to the enemy at one time” to “thin out enemy VF opposition” and “not give him the opportunity of attacking our incoming planes in piece-meal fashion.” He did not understand that Japan had already effectively integrated air groups from different carriers—no one on the U.S. side did—but he certainly saw the possibilities. In that, Fletcher was far ahead of his time on the U.S. Navy side. As will be seen, his assessment remarkably foreshadowed the multi-carrier tactics that the U.S. Navy would finally adopt in mid 1943 only after considerable debate. Prior to that, King constrained the carriers, each with its own modest screen, to operate singly and keep at least five to ten miles apart. The senior CTF in tactical command was to provide a sort of loose coordination. Nothing as yet was being done to achieve tactical integration of air groups from different carriers, although as will be seen there was growing concern about coordinating squadrons within the same air group.47
The Midway action reports featured many general comments and recommendations regarding carrier warfare. No one could dispute the principal lesson: strike the first blow to catch your opponent with his planes still on deck. Equally indisputable, both land-based and carrier air must do a better job finding and tracking enemy carriers. Aside from the initial sighting reports, Fletcher and Spruance received almost no updates on the movements of the Kidō Butai. Nonetheless, Nimitz declared they and Simard on Midway “showed sound judgement and decision in correctly interpreting the many confused situations that came up during the action.” The carriers preferred not to use their aircraft to search unless absolutely necessary, so they could reserve them for strikes. Fletcher noted that even when near Midway, the Yorktown had to launch an afternoon search to locate the additional carriers. That was “regrettable,” but necessary until shore-based air improved. Nimitz concurred. Unfortunately the U.S. Navy cruisers never possessed long-range float planes of the quality of their Japanese counterparts.48
The key lesson for the offense, earned at the expense of the brave TBD crews, was to ensure that dive bombers and torpedo planes executed coordinated attacks to mass their firepower and divide the defense. Browning correctly described the TBD airplane as “fatally inadequate,” hampered even more with Mark XIII aerial torpedoes that were “too slow” and lacked “punch.” Vast improvement in torpedo aircraft, at least, was at hand in the Grumman TBF-1 Avengers. The TBFs offered, as Murray later noted, the “happy coincidence” of an economical cruising speed and endurance about the same as SBDs and F4Fs (when equipped with belly tanks), that made for a “fairly homogenous group.” Another aspect of the attack that proved inadequate was fighter escort. To Fletcher the folding wing F4F-4s represented no improvement over the fixed-wing F4F-3s, except more F4F-4s could be carried. He echoed the call of Halsey and others of the “urgent necessity” for detachable fuel tanks to increase their effective attack radius beyond 175 miles. Spruance and Browning rated the Grumman Wildcat “greatly inferior” in comparison with the nimble Japanese Zero. On 20 June Nimitz relayed their fears to King, noting the “extreme and apparently increased superiority performance of 0 fighters” was mitigated only by the vulnerability of Japanese planes and the superior tactics of the U.S. Navy fighter pilots. “Overall results have been bad and will be serious and potentially decisive with improvement that must be expected in enemy tactics.” Remarkably, he called for army Curtiss P-40F Warhawk fighters to replace navy F4F Wildcats and Brewster F2A Buffaloes in all marine fighting squadrons defending forward bases and even asked that the P-40F “or comparable type” be tested for carrier suitability. In the meantime the F4F-4s must be lightened, and their ammunition supply increased even should that require reverting to four guns in place of six. The swift introduction of the Vought F4U-1 Corsair fighter was an “absolute priority.” Thus after Midway the top fleet commanders experienced a serious crisis of confidence over the effectiveness of the basic U.S. carrier fighter, a worry that would soon influence Fletcher’s most controversial command decision.49
Happily it appeared that fighter direction at Midway had improved considerably over Coral Sea. Ship antiaircraft fire also seemed much better. It was thought many more attacking planes were shot down before they could get within range to deliver their payloads. The fleet awaited the introduction of the powerful quad 40-mm heavy automatic guns that would greatly increase firepower beyond the range of the lighter 1.1-inch and 20-mm cannons. Because the torpedo plane was the enemy’s “most effective aircraft weapon,” Nimitz relayed Fletcher’s recommendation for a closer screen around the carrier, the destroyers on a fifteen-hundred-yard radius, the cruisers at two thousand yards. If the disposition broke up because of evasive maneuvers, the screen was to fill the gaps without the necessity of a signal from the task force commander.50
On 15 June King again badgered Nimitz over the failure of the task forces to execute night surface attacks with cruisers and destroyers. Nimitz queried Fletcher, Spruance, and Fitch, then responded with what he hoped was the definitive reply. The “advent of carrier borne aircraft in fast moving carrier task forces has greatly curtailed such opportunities and has made such attacks prohibitive unless destroyers are present in numbers considerably in excess of defensive screen requirements.” Not only were destroyers too scarce, but their “fuel situation” also tended to be “precarious even without high speed [steaming] at night.” Nimitz assured King, “The question you raise is constantly in my mind and also in the minds of my task force commanders who can be counted upon to exploit favorable opportunities.”51
A fascinating postscript to the Battle of Midway is the persistent and largely successful effort to deny that Spruance ever served under Fletcher’s command or, if so, only briefly and tangentially, and to downplay Fletcher’s role in the battle.52 Popular historian Fletcher Pratt’s influential early treatment of Midway, widely endorsed by the navy, set the tone by inexplicably failing even to acknowledge Fletcher’s presence, much less that he was in command.53 After the war the much more powerful Bates and Morison stepped forward on Spruance’s behalf. They were inspired by his superb performance as leader of the amphibious offensives that won the Pacific War and his obvious wisdom and modesty. It is therefore ironic that Spruance himself always emphasized his own subordinate status and sought to highlight his old commander’s part in the victory, as if trying to make amends for the growing Midway legend. In 1947 he shot down Morison’s proposed statement that declared, although Fletcher “automatically” assumed tactical command when the two task forces met, he had “wisely” designated Spruance “Officer in Charge of Air Operations,” meaning Spruance “was the actual commander on the spot during the carrier actions of June and the ensuing days.”54 Morison finally acknowledged that Fletcher held tactical command after the rendezvous of TF-16 and 17 on 2 June, but as Fletcher “possessed no aviation staff and Spruance had Halsey’s, it was probably fortunate that Spruance exercised practically an independent command during the crucial actions of 4–6 June.” One can now judge which task force staff was the more effective. In 1959 Spruance made it a point to copy by hand for Potter a report, “Primarily to let you see what I said about Frank Jack Fletcher on the last page. He did a splendid job.” So, of course, did Spruance, and to embellish the story on his behalf is truly gilding the lily. Fletcher, for his own part, stayed clear of the Midway command controversy. However, he could not refuse his old friend Poco Smith who posed the question in 1964 for his own book on Midway. Fletcher responded: “I invite your attention to the remark which was supposed to have been made by [Marshal Joseph] Joffre. Something like this: ‘I cannot say who won the battle of the Marne, but there is no doubt who would have lost it.’”55