On 30 July Fletcher activated TF-61 Op-Ord 1–42 dated 28 July 1942. Following the task organization Ghormley specified in Sopac Op-Plan 1–42, he divided TF-61 into two huge task groups: TG-61.1 (Air Support Force) under Noyes and Turner’s TG-61.2 (Amphibious Force). However, the old task force numbers continued to be used interchangeably. In turn Noyes’s Air Support Force comprised three task units:
• TU-61.1.1 (Fletcher): Saratoga; heavy cruisers Minneapolis, New Orleans; destroyers Phelps, Farragut, Worden, Macdonough, Dale
• TU-61.1.2 (Kinkaid): Enterprise; battleship North Carolina; heavy cruiser Portland; light cruiser Atlanta; destroyers Balch, Maury, Gwin, Benham, Grayson
• TU-61.1.3 (Noyes): Wasp; heavy cruisers San Francisco, Salt Lake City; destroyers Lang, Sterett, Aaron Ward, Stack, Laffey, Farenholt
The operations order accounted for all the destroyers that might join prior to the invasion, but not all did.1
Fletcher’s operations order described the mission of TF-61 in the broadest terms: seize, occupy, and defend Tulagi and adjacent positions, as well as the Santa Cruz Islands. The role of Noyes’s Air Support Force was tactical support to the Amphibious Force en route to the Tulagi area, air support “on D Day and subsequently,” defense of the carriers, and “air searches as seems advisable or as ordered.” Fletcher directed the Amphibious Force to depart the Fijis on the evening of 1 August, advance northwest at twelve knots through the southern New Hebrides to a point 420 miles south of the southwestern tip of Guadalcanal, and turn north to the invasion area. “On departure of carriers” after conclusion of the landings, Turner was to call on McCain’s TF-63 for “special aircraft missions.” All ships were to fuel to capacity before leaving Fiji and later top off the short-legged destroyers, high-speed minesweepers, and high-speed transports. The Enterprise and Wasp would furnish aircraft director teams to Turner in the transport McCawley (X-Ray Squadron) at Guadalcanal and Neville (Yoke Squadron) at Tulagi, and the Saratoga would provide an FDO for the Chicago in the Screening Group. On 30 July Maas delivered Ghormley’s copy of the TF-61 operations order to Suva for McCain to forward, but Ghormley did not receive it until September and blamed Fletcher.2
Turner’s TF-62 Operation Plan A3-42 (30 July 1942) laid out the procedures and timetable for the invasions and treated in great detail ship formations and movements, debarkation schedules, gun and bombing targets, and communications. Subsequently Admiral Crutchley, commander of the Screening Group, devised deployment plans for his cruisers and destroyers to protect the landing force. Turner’s “Attack Force Retirement Plan” reflected his desire to detach the Santa Cruz Occupation Force (heavy cruiser Quincy, four destroyers, four transports, and one cargo ship) on D-Day. He “tentatively planned” beginning the night of D+1 to withdraw Admiral Scott’s “AP Group” (one light cruiser, two destroyers, five high-speed minesweepers, and nine transports) to Nouméa. Crutchley’s “AK Group” of five cargo ships and old TF-44 (heavy cruisers Australia, Canberra, and Chicago, one light cruiser, and nine destroyers) was to pull out “about D plus 4 days.” It is interesting that Turner omitted heavy cruisers Astoria and Vincennes. Crutchley, for one, assumed they would go out with Scott. The four APDs of Transdiv Twelve were also not listed as departing. Instead, they were to fuel on D-Day from the big transports, then re-embark the First Marine Raider Battalion (on 7 August if possible) and be ready to conduct as yet unspecified raids “as required” in the Solomons. Turner likewise signaled his intention to land his Amphibforsopac headquarters at Guadalcanal at some future date, ostensibly to oversee building the naval base, but he hankered to run those raids and lead troops in battle. Of course Turner’s retirement schedule depended on events proceeding fairly close to plan, but it also meant that if Fletcher indeed thought things were going well, he could reasonably expect Turner to adhere to it.3
If the affairs of the Amphibious Force seemed settled by 1 August, fervent discussion still raged as to how the carriers should be employed. Kinkaid in particular objected to the plan. In line with the tactical thought favored by most senior carrier aviators, his flag captain Davis in the Enterprise deeply distrusted concentrating the carriers, even as individual task units deployed five miles apart, let alone the multi-carrier formation Fletcher personally advocated. Kinkaid recommended each carrier be separated by at least fifty miles. The initial carrier attack against Tulagi and Guadalcanal should be doubled in size to knock out the opposition as quickly as possible and free the aircraft for other tasks. Each carrier task unit should operate independently, even choose its own ground support targets “instead of objectives requested by Comamphib [Commander, Amphibious Force] and control by him in AP area.” Each carrier would also direct her own combat air patrol. Kinkaid and Davis worried that enemy carriers, in combination with strong air opposition from Rabaul and Buka, might intervene in the landings. They sought greater flexibility for each carrier group to conduct its own defense and counterattack. Noyes bristled that Kinkaid’s suggestions were “either not practical in my opinion or contrary to agreements made at conference of force commanders and approved by [Fletcher].” Had Turner known Kinkaid hoped to limit his control over air support missions, he would have been livid. Noyes set a meeting for the “air representatives of carrier captains and TF commanders” the following morning in the Wasp.4
Rear Adm. Thomas C. Kinkaid, front row, second from left, and TF-16 staff, July 1942.
Courtesy of U.S. Navy, via Col. W. W. Smith Jr.
Meanwhile, Kinkaid did not relent. On 2 August before the meeting he wrote Noyes (copy to Fletcher) to propose more radical changes in plan. All three carriers should not approach Guadalcanal from the southwest. “I believe this force will be sighted prior to D-2 day (if it has not already) by either subs or aircraft and that we should have an alternate plan that provides for one CV operating to the N.E. [of the] Solomon Islands.” That carrier should deploy “about 100 miles north of Tulagi to eastward of Santa Isabel Island, keeping far from the other carriers but the same distance from Tulagi.” That offered “certain advantages that are worthy of careful consideration.” The lone carrier’s search would augment reconnaissance north of the Solomons, her planes could knock out seaplane bases on Malaita and Santa Isabel, and her fighters intercept inbound bombers. Equally important to Kinkaid, such a separation “provides for dispersion of our CV’s which is considered most desirable in view of probable contact with enemy search planes as early as Dog minus 3 day.” In that event “we may expect enemy CV to disrupt our schedule.” The northern carrier force “could intercept enemy aircraft carriers which might otherwise approach Tulagi area undetected.” Kinkaid also voiced concern should the carriers adhere to the original plan. Because searchers could appear as early as 4 August, he must know if the Enterprise had the authority as the sole fighter director carrier to break radio silence and intercept bogeys “at any time from D-3 day on.” There should be additional strikes on D-Day between dawn and when the troops actually started landing. “We have a strong force and can deliver a heavy first blow.” Kinkaid explained in his postscript that he was “trying to make constructive suggestions before [his emphasis] the final plan is made. When the plan is decided upon I am all for it regardless.”5
Instead of meeting in the Wasp, Noyes flew over to the Saratoga on 3 August to confer with Fletcher. Unfortunately the available sources are silent as to what they discussed, but their main objection to Kinkaid’s revisions can be surmised. Two carriers could not support a third 150 miles away. Worse, that separation would be in the direction the Japanese carriers would likely appear. The detached carrier might merely serve to give warning before she was sunk. Fletcher and Noyes justly refused to disperse their carriers. On 4 August Noyes issued Air Operation Plan 2–42 that would be in force on D-Day. All three carriers would operate together southwest of Guadalcanal. Noyes added nine dive bombers to the opening strikes to increase the total to 127 planes and doubled the SBDs attacking Lunga to thirty-six. Acknowledging increasing fears the carriers might be spotted on the way in, he raised the total combat air patrol over the carriers to twenty-four F4Fs at the expense of the transports. To compensate, he reinforced the number of SBDs assigned to support the Amphibious Force. Throughout D-Day each sector was to have nine dive bombers and four fighters continuously available for ground support. Except for one flight of eight Saratoga TBFs earmarked for an attack mission, he held the other thirty TBFs for “scouting or attack as dictated by last minute developments.” The revised plan also improved readiness for emergency launchings and made it easier for the carriers to keep close together. Including the combat air patrol over the carriers and transport areas, at least thirty to thirty-six fighters and twenty-seven to thirty bombers would be aloft at any one time. Pederson commented, “Each carrier knew exactly what was required and the plan worked very smoothly during the actual operation.”6
On 31 July the two task groups loitered south of Fiji tying up loose ends. Ghormley himself was in the process of switching his headquarters from Auckland to the Argonne at Nouméa. Turner evaluated the rehearsals as “rather unsatisfactory,” but judged them useful. Vandegrift called the exercises “a bust.” Pederson’s candid opinion was “in so far as the carrier air force was concerned they were a waste of time.” TF-62 spent that day and the morning of 1 August draining the Kanawha and Platte and rearming from the Rainier. Ghormley changed his mind about sending the Platte to Nouméa and told Turner to dispatch her to Suva along with the Rainier and Kanawha to replenish when the E. J. Henry arrived. However, he neglected to forward the filled Kaskaskia to Turner. By then TF-62 left the vicinity of Koro minus the three vital ships from the Pearl convoy. The Kaskaskia’s absence prevented Turner from refueling his destroyers. He radioed Ghormley she “is now required,” and that it was “most urgent” the Zeilin and Betelgeuse also report to TF-62. “Otherwise Dog Day should be deferred.” On the evening of 1 August Fletcher and Turner started westward from one hundred miles south of Fiji. Fletcher took the Air Support Force out ahead, intending to fuel the Saratoga, the destroyers, and if possible the cruisers on 3 August while Turner caught up.7
The convoy that included the Kaskaskia, Zeilin, Betelgeuse, San Francisco, and Laffey finally reached Suva on the afternoon of 1 August. That night the Zeilin and Betelgeuse, escorted by two of Turner’s destroyers, left for TF-62, but without the Kaskaskia. The San Francisco departed Suva the next day after fueling and joined TF-18 on 4 August, but the Laffey ran aground and had to return to Pearl for repairs. Inexplicably Ghormley had not advanced the Kaskaskia to Turner along with the others, but kept her at Suva. That was despite McCain’s explicit warning that the W. C. Yeager and Bishopdale at Nouméa had in fact only sixty-five thousand barrels for the Cimarron, instead of the ninety thousand Fletcher expected. The logistical plan unraveled further when the E. J. Henry, the chartered tanker Ghormley diverted to Suva, did not show up on 1 August as directed. Thus the Platte could not replenish her cargo. With the Kaskaskia unavailable during the approach, Turner’s only source for additional oil was the Esso Little Rock, due on the second at her new destination of Efate. Therefore he sent sixteen short-legged ships ahead to fuel there beginning the morning of 3 August. That dawn he was gratified when the Zeilin and Betelgeuse finally caught up, but he learned soon after that the Esso Little Rock never appeared. No one knew where she was. The thirsty ships had no choice but to rejoin TF-62.8
On 3 August, as the carriers passed forty miles south of Efate, Fletcher gladly sighted the Cimarron on schedule and started fueling, first the greedy Saratoga to 70 percent, then the destroyers. Because the Cimarron brought much less fuel than anticipated, he could not top off his destroyers—a deficiency that loomed large in the next several days. For example, the Grayson refueled only to 85 percent, the Gwin 82 percent. Because Fletcher could not fill his ships, oil became his “main consideration during the run from the Fijis to the Solomons.” Kinkaid reckoned on 4 August his heavy ships had fuel for three days at fifteen knots, plus four days at twenty-five knots, but that the destroyers had only three days at fifteen knots, plus two days at twenty-five knots. It would take nearly three days at fifteen knots just to get to the target area. As will be seen Kinkaid’s fuel estimates were too pessimistic, but they were what he provided Fletcher. Turner stressed to Dyer, “Enroute from Koro to the Solomons my big worry was OIL, OIL, OIL [Dyer’s emphasis].” To get him off the hook, Fletcher flew a message to Efate recommending Ghormley send the oilers at Suva to Efate or Nouméa “immediately.” If Turner could not get fuel at Efate, his “top off situation may be serious.”9
On 4 August, still with no word of the Esso Little Rock, Turner gave nearly all of his destroyers, high-speed minesweepers, and high-speed transports some oil from his own transports and cargo ships. Fletcher helped by sparing the last of the Cimarron’s load for the RAN light cruiser Hobart and two of Turner’s destroyers. On the evening of 4 August Fletcher released the empty Cimarron and destroyer Aaron Ward to return to Nouméa, where the Esso Little Rock might have gone if she followed her original orders. The fuel situation grew even more complex that day. The Australian fleet oiler Bishopdale hit a friendly mine while leaving Nouméa to secure more oil in Brisbane. Although she did not suffer severe damage, she was no longer available. After dropping the ball, Ghormley belatedly looked into sending the Kaskaskia directly out to fuel Turner, but by that time no escort was at hand. The valuable fleet oiler had to wait at Suva until 5 August when the destroyer Perkins arrived. Then she would accompany the Platte, Rainier, and Perkins to Nouméa. The E. J. Henry finally began transferring oil to the Platte only at noon on 4 August, three days later than anticipated.10
The third installment of chartered tankers intended for Nouméa all cleared San Pedro by 18 July, with anticipated arrivals on 12–15 August. On 1 August, citing Fletcher’s warning of fuel shortages, Nimitz directed Calhoun (Comserforpac) to dispatch at the “earliest practicable date” two “big, fast” chartered tankers from San Pedro to Nouméa to supplement already scheduled deliveries. They were to reach Nouméa by 25 August, about a week before the fourth regular group of chartered tankers. Moreover, fleet oiler Sabine should be in Samoa by the thirteenth. Even so, Ghormley, with ample reason to doubt the timely arrival of chartered tankers, perceived another shortage of oil looming for Sopac in mid month. On 4 August he secured diversion of a Wellington-bound tanker to Nouméa on 14 August.11
Fourth August, when TF-61 passed north of New Caledonia into the Coral Sea, was the first day the enemy search might make contact. Fletcher timed his penetration of the Tulagi air umbrella after its searchers should have started home. The Saratoga deployed combat air patrol fighters thirty miles north in the danger zone. Several suspicious radar contacts turned out to be B-17s. Slonim’s monitoring of radio messages gave Fletcher no reason to believe he was detected. At sunset the task force was 530 miles southeast of Tulagi. Ironically that day the Japanese missed a huge opportunity to uncover the whole invasion force. Two experimental Kawanishi Type 2 flying boats staged through Tulagi for long-range reconnaissance. One flying boat scouted Fiji. The second flew along the New Hebrides chain toward Efate, then south to New Caledonia, up along its coast, and back north to Tulagi. Only bad weather and very bad luck prevented the premature discovery of TF-61.12
If being sighted on 4 August was a remote possibility, the failure on 5 August to detect TF-61 less than five hundred miles from Tulagi greatly surprised Fletcher and his cohorts. The weather started clear, with scattered clouds that thickened during the afternoon. That morning Turner stopped his huge convoy to allow the Zeilin to transfer seventeen newly graduated ensigns to other ships in TF-62. He risked the maneuver despite the threat of subs, which Crutchley certainly took seriously. Also worried about subs, Fletcher ordered Turner, “Get underway immediately.” He recalled to Dyer: “I just figured that Kelly was punch drunk, and my short despatch would snap him out of it. When I next saw him . . . we laughed together about the incident, and he admitted he might not have been very bright. But he still said there were no Jap submarines anywhere around.” By 1100 Turner got his mass of ships pointed northward. At noon the carriers followed. By sunset Tulagi was less than four hundred miles away. That night Fletcher started staying on the Sara’s flag bridge twenty-four hours a day.13
On the morning of 5 August the Esso Little Rock finally showed up at Suva after a baleful miscue. She reached Efate early on the morning of 4 August, two days late, but one of Turner’s destroyers, the Wilson, quite incorrectly told her to clear off. The Esso Little Rock steered east to Suva in Fiji. There she contributed some of her cargo to the Platte. The Perkins came into Suva the afternoon of the fifth and left the same evening for Nouméa with her little convoy. The empty Cimarron and Aaron Ward also headed to Nouméa after having fueled TF-61 off Efate. Because the Esso Little Rock turned up at Suva, they would find no oil at Nouméa. Thus all the careful plans for the logistical support of TF-61 miscarried due to Ghormley’s failure to advance the Kaskaskia to TF-62, the tardy appearance of the two chartered tankers, and the paucity of escorting destroyers in Sopac. Nimitz took note of the “fuel trouble” in Sopac and shrewdly observed, “The trouble seems in distribution rather than a lack of fuel.” Fletcher would lack ready access to fuel when he really needed it, with portentous results.14
Thursday, 6 August, was the crucial day of the approach, as the two huge task groups, a dozen miles apart, steadily advanced north toward Guadalcanal. The sprawling Expeditionary Force could hardly avoid enemy searchers, but dawn providentially brought heavy overcast with frequent squalls and haze. Fletcher was greatly relieved. He had fully expected to fight his way through air strikes to reach the objective—something often forgotten when historians considered the initial Allied surprise. Noyes assumed tactical command of the Air Support Force and specified the maneuvers to bring the carriers to the predetermined launch position seventy-five miles southwest of Tulagi an hour prior to dawn on 7 August, D-Day. McCain worried a small enemy detachment believed on Malaita might interfere with the Mackinac when she advanced there on D-Day to service PBYs. Therefore Noyes directed the eight Saratoga TBFs already reserved for a D-Day strike to attack Malaita and a point on southeast Florida Island. To increase the impact of the opening strikes, he assigned seventeen more TBFs to bomb Lunga and Tulagi an hour after sunrise. At the same time eight Enterprise TBFs were to search west to northeast two hundred miles to cover the Solomons up past New Georgia, Santa Isabel, and beyond. Six other Enterprise TBFs waited with torpedoes to attack whatever the search might turn up.15
At Fletcher’s express order, TG-61.1 took the calculated risk of flying no searches on 6 August so as not to alert the Japanese to the presence of carrier planes. Noyes later called that “one of the most important factors in the surprise.” Two flights of ten fighters patrolled forty miles ahead to watch for snoopers. During the late morning, radar detected a bogey passing twenty-five miles east, but cloud cover was such that Turner’s convoy was not sighted. That afternoon the combat air patrol tried unsuccessfully to find four other contacts discovered on radar. One, thought perhaps a search plane on its return leg to Tulagi, closed to ten miles when visibility barely exceeded one mile. Slonim’s team heard no frantic squawks on known enemy radio frequencies. TF-61 remained undiscovered. That fortunate happenstance offered the Allies an unforeseen but tremendous advantage at the outset of the campaign. At dawn three flying boats left Tulagi to cover the southern sector. The center aircraft passed very close to TF-61 about 0800 but missed it in the overcast. The western aircraft relented after only 370 miles because of poor visibility. Had weather permitted it to fly the mission as briefed, it could hardly have missed the spread-out TF-61. Afternoon radar contacts must have been U.S. shore-based search planes. Turner reconfigured TF-62 into X-Ray and Yoke squadrons. By sunset Guadalcanal loomed only eighty-five miles northeast, with Tulagi fifty miles beyond. After dark the three carriers altered course northwest at twenty-two knots, then at 2230 turned north to the initial point. They wielded 234 operational aircraft (ninety-eight fighters, ninety-six dive bombers, and forty torpedo bombers). At 2250 light cruiser San Juan, the lead ship of the Yoke Group, swung northeast to clear the western tip of Guadalcanal before turning eastward toward Tulagi. Fifteen minutes later the X-Ray Group, bound for Lunga on Guadalcanal, executed the same maneuver. TF-61 was ready to begin the first Allied counteroffensive of the Pacific War. Ghormley exhorted Fletcher, Turner, and McCain, “Electrify the world with news of a real offensive,” and “Sock ’em in the Solomons.”16
During the Expeditionary Force’s approach, Fletcher kept a close eye on the intelligence estimates of enemy strength and likely intentions furnished by Nimitz, Ghormley, and MacArthur. It is useful to compare the portrait painted by intelligence just prior to the attack with the true Japanese situation.
Turner and Vandegrift judged the First Marine Division (Reinforced) of nineteen thousand men easily strong enough for the job. On 26 July Comsopac intelligence placed some three thousand Japanese troops on Guadalcanal, of whom one thousand were construction workers. Turner’s 30 July operations plan raised the Lunga total to 5,275, including a reinforced regiment, along with 1,850 men defending Tulagi. That gave Vandegrift pause and certainly validated his decision to flank rather than storm Lunga. The defenders actually numbered twenty-eight hundred men, but only 250 were combat troops. Nine hundred sailors, including many service personnel, were deployed on or around Tulagi.17
The effectiveness of Japanese shore-based aviation rested on its strength, utilization of forward air bases on Buka, Bougainville, and Guadalcanal, and its ability to absorb the fury of MacArthur’s interdiction. Startling new intelligence on 29 July put six land-based Zero fighters at Lunga. McCain’s modest strikes against Tulagi and Lunga, however, encountered only a few Zero-type float fighters. By 6 August it was evident that no land planes yet advanced there, to the great relief of TF-61. MacArthur’s final estimate was 139 planes (fifty-six fighters, thirty-eight bombers, twenty-four flying boats, and twenty-one float planes) on New Britain and in the Solomons, and thirty more aircraft in New Guinea. That estimate was close to the mark. On 7 August the 5th Air Attack Force numbered 129 operational planes, including thirty-one delivered the previous day by the auxiliary carrier Yawata Maru. Rabaul had thirty-nine fighters (plus twenty being assembled), thirty-two land attack planes, sixteen carrier bombers, two land reconnaissance planes, and four flying boats. Seven flying boats and nine float fighters were at Tulagi, but actually there were no planes on New Guinea. The first flight of nine new medium bombers was already on its way from Tinian to Rabaul.18
Ever since the Battle of the Coral Sea, Allied intelligence placed the 6th Cruiser Division (four heavy cruisers), the 18th Cruiser Division (two old light cruisers), and the 6th Destroyer Squadron (one old light cruiser and a dozen aging destroyers) around Rabaul, along with about eight subs and two seaplane tenders. That was correct, except after 14 July the destroyers operated as separate divisions. By the end of July radio intelligence revealed the commander of the new Eighth Fleet had come south. By 5 August Ghormley listed the naval force at Rabaul as three or four heavy cruisers and four light cruisers of the 6th and 18th Cruisers Divisions, along with four to six divisions of destroyers and five sub divisions, including some operating northeast of Australia. In fact Admiral Mikawa, the Eighth Fleet commander, reached Rabaul on 30 July. He concentrated on reinforcing the Buna lodgment with his five heavy cruisers (the Chōkai plus the 6th Cruiser Division), three old light cruisers, destroyers, and subchasers. On 6 August one light cruiser and two destroyers left with a Buna convoy, while all five heavy cruisers prepared to sail on 7 August from Kavieng on New Ireland northwest of Rabaul. Three would support the Buna convoy, and two would join the two light cruisers and a destroyer at Rabaul. Four submarines patrolled off Port Moresby and northeast Australia, while five I-boats returned to Truk after prowling the same area.19
Of far more immediate importance to Fletcher than any surface strength at Rabaul was the location of the carriers. Intelligence placed them in homeland waters, either in port or training at sea, although the Zuikaku might have started south to Singapore. On 24 July Ghormley averred there was “no evidence of carrier support” in the Rabaul area. A week later Cincpac intelligence had Japanese carriers “conducting exercises.” Ghormley sounded a cautionary note. The carriers, although “believed in home waters,” had “adopted same communication practices” encountered prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor and the battles of Coral Sea and Midway. On 5 August Cincpac still placed the Japanese carriers “in home waters probably in port.” Ghormley concurred, but again observed, “Some indications of pending operations.” On the evening of 6 August Sowespac reported its air search planes sighted a seaplane tender and three destroyers northwest of Rabaul. Shortly after midnight on 7 August MacArthur declared that photos showed the supposed tender was actually a converted carrier. Cincpac correctly concluded it was an auxiliary carrier transporting planes to Rabaul but did not bother to tell Fletcher. In fact she was the Yawata Maru. Fletcher was not unduly concerned but kept in mind the presence of a small carrier in the Rabaul area. He would learn in the next three weeks that radio intelligence was far from infallible. Common sense compelled him not just to rely completely on the vagaries of radio intelligence but take necessary steps to prevent enemy carriers from surprising him in the Solomons.20
Japanese naval intelligence proved a nonfactor in predicting future Allied moves. Aware of sporadic air attacks on Guadalcanal and Tulagi, Mikawa queried Inoue on 23 July whether the United States might invade the Solomons prior to mid August, when the first Zero fighters were to deploy at Lunga. “Absolutely not!” Inoue responded. The high command, Yamamoto included, blithely discounted any major Allied counteroffensive before the autumn of 1943. Thus Tokyo was not perturbed on 1 August when air searches in the Bay of Bengal revealed the extent of Eastern Fleet diversionary demonstrations against the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. Aware at least one large convoy left the West Coast in early July, Japanese intelligence postulated it merely reinforced Australia. Even the Eighth Fleet staff agreed the Allies bombed the Solomons and Tulagi merely to hinder airfield construction. Consequently Mikawa bent his efforts toward securing the supply route to Buna and supporting the assault on Port Moresby. The discovery on 3 August of the new Allied airfield at Rabi on Milne Bay at the eastern tip of New Guinea elicited planning for a massive bombing mission, set for 7 August by the 5th Air Attack Force. Mikawa assumed this powerful strike would go a long way in neutralizing the troublesome airstrip. In fact the attack never went forward because of much more urgent business in the supposedly somnolent Solomons.21