The indecisive carrier clash on 24 August in the Eastern Solomons brought Fletcher no real relief, for heavy units of the Combined Fleet remained poised north of the Solomons. On the night of 25 August after bidding farewell to Kinkaid’s TF-16 (Enterprise), he started north with TF-11 (Saratoga) to rejoin Noyes’s TF-18 (Wasp) guarding the gap east of Malaita. Fletcher could hardly wait to restore TF-61 to three flattops with Murray’s TF-17 (Hornet), due in the next several days. All three task forces should have no oil worries for the next week, but TF-11 and TF-18 dug deeply into their food and could only fully restock in port.1
The lack of pursuit certainly perplexed Ghormley. The only perceived enemy advance on 25 August occurred well beyond Sopac’s left flank. Search planes discovered nine ships passing five hundred miles west of Guadalcanal toward the airfield at Milne Bay (Rabi) on the east tip of New Guinea. Its fall would imperil MacArthur’s Sowespac, already rocked by the fierce assault through the mountains toward Port Moresby. Ghormley also apprehended danger developing all the way across on his right flank, with as many as three undamaged carriers cutting his line of communication from Hawaii. On the evening of 25 August he cautioned that these carriers “may approach Solomons–New Hebrides area from a longitude to the eastward of Ndeni” and told Murray to “be prepared for such possibility.”2
If Ghormley’s worry could be dismissed as a bout of nerves, Cominch landed a bomb shell. He professed his “growing conviction that force enemy is now massing for counterattack may repeat may be directed against [Fiji] or [Samoa], then [Guadalcanal-Tulagi].” The Japanese might crush the right flank before taking Guadalcanal head on. Ghormley wasted no time informing his commanders the enemy forces not sighted on 25 August “may attack” Fiji or Samoa. Neither island group possessed adequate air defense or even search capability. For his own part, Nimitz deemed raids on Fiji or Samoa “improbable.” Fletcher’s own carriers menaced the enemy’s right flank, while logistical problems like those that convulsed Sopac would cripple an enemy advance so far southeast. “No enemy tankers have been sighted in area of operations or to eastward.” Cincpac did endorse Ghormley’s fervent request for powerful air reinforcements in light of the “critical” situation. “Lets not let this offensive die on the vine.” Washington must kick in the necessary strength if phase one of Watchtower was to succeed. Nimitz did not initiate the offensive into the Solomons but would do all in his power to ensure its triumph. On 27 August he told Ghormley, Fletcher, McCain, Turner, Noyes, and Vandegrift they were all “doing grand jobs” and to “keep hitting hard at every opportunity.”3
On 26 August Fletcher contacted Noyes one hundred miles southeast of San Cristóbal. The day was generally quiet with regard to sightings, confirming the general Japanese withdrawal. Nimitz resolved to repair the Enterprise at Pearl rather than distant Bremerton. He canceled, “for the time being,” orders for Noyes’s TF-18 to proceed to Pearl and authorized Fletcher to draw upon the Enterprise planes as needed. Cincpac’s message crossed one from Ghormley advising that one of Fletcher’s three carrier groups must go to Tongatabu, “As soon as situation warrants for provisioning and short upkeep period.” That would also buttress his tender eastern flank. That evening Efate transmitted a dispatch flown in by Kinkaid advising that the Enterprise, Portland, and three destroyers had “sufficient fuel and provisions to reach Pearl if not delayed.” The next morning Ghormley told Kinkaid to make for Tongatabu, passing south of Fiji, but cautioned him to be alert for hostile forces. On 27 August the Enterprise flew fourteen SBDs and three TBFs to Efate and retained eight F4Fs and eight SBDs for defense. TF-16 reached Tongatabu on 30 August. The planes the Enterprise left behind proved vital for the defense of Cactus.4
Ghormley told Murray on 26 August to approach the waters halfway between San Cristóbal and Espíritu Santo and await orders to join TF-61. Once there TF-17 was, during nighttime hours, to keep east of the direct line between Guadalcanal and Espíritu Santo “on account scheduled ship movements on that line.” Turner was preparing to send the William Ward Burrows and six smaller ships to deliver more badly needed supplies. They were to reach Cactus at dawn on 29 August, take about two days to unload, and return by the same route. Ghormley expected Fletcher to cover the transit of that vital convoy.5
After sunrise on 27 August Fletcher closed San Cristóbal to within 235 miles southeast of Lunga. He resumed the pattern of cruising southward during daylight and north at night. As before, he did not care to go closer to Lunga than 225 miles. That was the extreme limit (eight hundred miles) of bomber strikes from Rabaul. Long-range flying boats already patrolled fifty miles east of that line. Subs were always a big concern, particularly as the mission so restricted the TF-61 operating area. Duke Ramsey recalled it was “Fletcher’s policy to change our general location from day to day within the area assigned as one means of affording protection against the ever present submarine threat.” TF-61 relied on strong antisubmarine air patrols and zigzagged at thirteen knots during daylight, following the best advice of the destroyer squadron commanders that slower speed maximized the performance of their sound gear to detect subs. That tactic would soon be sorely tested.6
It was obvious by early 27 August that Comsopac never received the messages Fletcher gave Kinkaid to deliver to Efate. Therefore the Saratoga flew copies to the Mackinac at Ndeni, 125 miles east. TF-61 would operate east and south of San Cristóbal until TF-17 joined. Ghormley issued orders to Murray to meet TF-61 on the morning of 28 August 140 miles southeast of San Cristóbal and 220 miles northwest of Espíritu Santo. The light cruiser Phoenix was to join as well, in exchange for the San Juan, which was to accompany Kinkaid to Pearl. Ghormley did not know exactly where Murray was and whether TF-17 could even make that rendezvous on time.7
TF-61 track chart, 26–31 August 1942
That morning Fletcher’s aircraft sighted one I-boat fifty miles east, while another submarine turned up 125 miles northwest of the carriers. Later when nearly three hundred miles southeast of Lunga, Wasp combat air patrol fighters destroyed a flying boat that edged within twenty miles of TF-11 and briefly tracked the U.S. carriers. Fletcher transferred four Saratoga F4Fs to Noyes, giving the Wasp sixty-six flyable planes (thirty fighters, twenty-five dive bombers, and eleven torpedo planes), while the Sara operated eighty-five aircraft (thirty-six fighters, thirty-one dive bombers, seventeen torpedo planes, and one photo reconnaissance plane). By early afternoon McCain’s PBYs located more warships withdrawing 450 miles north of Lunga and more than five hundred miles northwest of TF-61. By sundown after steaming 125 miles southeast, Fletcher turned southwest to make for the rendezvous with TF-17 and cover the passage of the next Guadalcanal supply mission. In another failure on Airsopac’s part, only that evening did the Mackinac advise that a PBY had sighted four cruisers at 0935 only 250 miles northwest of Lunga and closing at twenty knots.8
Ghormley issued a revised “concept of operations.” Given that “hostile strength and intentions” remained undetermined, Sopac “must employ to the utmost limits our land based aircraft strength, while improving the Cactus-Ringbolt position.” He did not desire Fletcher’s carriers operating beyond or even anywhere near the extreme limit of McCain’s air support. Therefore TF-61 “should for the present” keep south of latitude 10° south, roughly level with Guadalcanal, “Unless a promising target is located within striking distance.” Meanwhile, Fletcher was to cover “the movements of supplies and reinforcements into the Cactus area,” and McCain “continue an extended and intensive search as operating limitations permit.” Ghormley later explained he believed the enemy would “come again,” very likely “from a position further eastward.” The Japanese were “feeling out to the eastward” and might raid Samoa or Fiji, or strike Espíritu Santo, which they “doubtless knew was our base for supplies.” Consequently the carriers must “remain as far to the eastward as possible, and still be in position to support Cactus in case of necessity.” He worried the Japanese might try an “end run” and come in from behind. Thus Fletcher was doing exactly what Ghormley wished. If he was not to go north of latitude 10° south, he should not linger too far south either.9
Fletcher initiated his usual southeast run at dawn on 28 August from fifty miles off San Cristóbal and 210 miles southeast of Lunga. Neither TF-17 nor the Phoenix showed up, so he kept moving south. Intelligence continued to place enemy ships far north of Guadalcanal. Cincpac estimated the Zuihō and a battleship division (“including new Yamato”) about to depart Kure but did not speculate what the elusive Zuikaku, Shōkaku, and Ryūjō might be up to. Pearl also warned of an invasion of Ocean Island, although that would not be confirmed for several days. The little William Ward Burrows convoy passed ten miles south of TF-61 bound for Guadalcanal. One of the Saratoga’s afternoon search sighted TF-17 120 miles to the east. In anticipation, Fletcher had prepared a message for that SBD to drop to Murray. It set a new rendezvous for sunrise, 29 August, east of San Cristóbal near latitude 10° south and 210 miles southeast of Lunga. Fletcher preferred to cover the arrival of the Burrows convoy from there to intercept any forces coming from the direction of Malaita. More good news was that nineteen F4F-4s with belly tanks and twelve SBD-3s would soon fly from Espíritu Santo to Cactus. After Admiral Scott shifted his flag to the San Francisco, Fletcher dispatched the San Juan to Tongatabu. After dark TF-61 turned northwest for the dawn meeting with TF-17.10
Ghormley’s daily situation report mentioned no sightings on the twenty-eighth, but that night Vandegrift dealt the enemy a stinging setback. The Japanese were up to their old tricks. Having failed to secure the seas around Guadalcanal for slow transports, they resumed the tactic, dubbed the “Rat” Operation, of using destroyers to sneak lightly equipped troops into Guadalcanal. Nearly five thousand men were to come over five successive nights beginning 28–29 August. To augment Base Air Force’s bombing assault on Lunga, the Shōkaku and Zuikaku temporarily transferred thirty of forty-one Zero fighters to Buka to serve as escorts. Without them Nagumo’s carriers could not be expected to fight. Now eleven Cactus SBDs tore into four destroyers discovered that evening seventy miles north of Lunga, blew up one, and ran the others off. That so discouraged the leader of three other destroyers coming in separately, he turned back just short of Guadalcanal. So far the Cactus Air Force lived up to its promise, but the Japanese would return in greater strength.11
During the night Fletcher crowded latitude 10° south, ready to intervene if the convoy needed help at Guadalcanal, and then started southeast. In a gesture Crutchley’s Commonwealth sailors appreciated, TF-61 half-masted colors in mourning for the Duke of Kent, the brother of King George VI recently killed in an air crash. Soon Admiral Murray’s TF-17 hove into sight with the Hornet, Admiral Good’s heavy cruisers Northampton and Pensacola and light cruiser San Diego, and Captain Hoover’s five Desron Two destroyers. The Hornet operated its streamlined air group of seventy aircraft (thirty-two fighters, twenty-four dive bombers, thirteen torpedo planes, and one photo reconnaissance plane) with sixteen spares (five fighters, eight dive bombers, and three torpedo planes). Murray also brought twenty F4Fs for the carrier fighting squadrons, but the ex-Enterprise fighters had already provided enough replacements. Following his usual policy, Fletcher kept southeast toward Espíritu Santo. No significant ship sightings came in during the day. Although Cincpac intelligence could not locate the Shōkaku, Zuikaku, and Ryūjō, it linked their planes with the base at Buka and offered the old refrain of the Hiyō, Junyō, and Zuihō about to depart homeland waters “shortly.” Fletcher flew more dispatches to Ndeni for transmission to inform Ghormley TF-17 had joined, but the food situation in TF-11 and TF-18 was “becoming acute.” He proposed to provision and fuel them “successively.” Another message told the errant Phoenix to meet TF-61 the next morning in the original rendezvous 135 miles southeast of San Cristóbal. After dark, following a 150-mile run southeast, Fletcher marked time before gathering the Phoenix in the morning.12
Only well after dark on 29 August did Leary relay a coast-watcher alert that five cruisers or large destroyers had departed Shortland at 1245. They were five destroyers in the second Rat installment. Turner ordered the William Ward Burrows to flee Cactus temporarily, but she ran aground off Tulagi and resisted all attempts to free her. That night the five destroyers landed one thousand men and artillery at Taivu Point east of Lunga. They were the first reinforcements to reach Guadalcanal since the Ichiki First Echelon eleven days before. Worried about SBDs circling overhead in the darkness, the destroyer leader disobeyed orders to attack the grounded transport off Tulagi. Nonetheless, the inability of both the Airsopac search and daily Cactus air patrols to detect those incoming destroyers boded ill for the future.13
After dawn on 30 August the Phoenix finally appeared 125 miles southeast of San Cristóbal. Working southeast during the day, Fletcher reorganized TF-61 as follows:
• TG-61.1 (Fletcher): Saratoga; battleship North Carolina; heavy cruisers Minneapolis, New Orleans; light cruiser Atlanta; seven destroyers
• TG-61.2 (Murray): Hornet; heavy cruisers Northampton, Pensacola; light cruisers San Diego, Phoenix; seven destroyers
• TG-61.3 (Noyes): Wasp; heavy cruisers San Francisco, Salt Lake City, HMAS Australia; light cruiser HMAS Hobart; seven destroyers
For surface combat, Fletcher detailed Scott’s TG-61.6 (Surface Attack Group) of one battleship, seven heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and nine destroyers to fight, while the three carriers and twelve destroyers operated separately as TG-61.5 (Air Attack Force) under Noyes.14
Others coveted Fletcher’s powerful force. Alarmed at the battle raging at Milne Bay, especially when Japan reinforced the beachhead, MacArthur warned the Solomons might only be a diversion for another major assault on New Guinea. Lacking his own naval support, he wanted Comsopac assigned to the “added mission of covering Milne Bay area.” Predictably Ghormley declared just having his carriers “in being on the flank of any hostile attack on Australia” constituted “a greater contribution to MacArthur’s assistance than any sacrifice given at this time of carriers in the Milne Bay area.” Instead TF-61 must be “centrally located” and “prepared to operate anywhere on the front Samoa-Milne Bay.” Such flexible deployment was necessary “until the strength of the hostile main effort is determined and it has been committed to a definite line of action.” For the present, Cactus and Milne Bay must bear “hostile infiltration tactics and the initial shock of a hostile main effort.” Nimitz fully concurred. “Consider while enemy holds airfields on east coast New Guinea that operation our carriers Milne area would seriously endanger their availability for tasks for which they are more suitable and are urgently needed.” Ghormley did not offer to return Crutchley’s TF-44 to MacArthur, but King suggested to Nimitz he do so.15
Ironically the Australians on their own drove the Japanese out of Milne Bay, while Ghormley dealt with his own urgent matters. Soon he must retire his carrier task forces in succession to provision. “Other naval strength [is] vital to cover transport of supplies and personnel to Cactus.” On 30 August he directed Fletcher to release one carrier task group to reach Nouméa on 2 September and started two fleet oilers north with fuel and interim food for the two carriers remaining on station. Fearing Japanese carriers that could swoop in at any time, he was reluctant to withdraw all three carriers at the same time and mandated Fletcher continue to shield the steady stream of supply ships going into Cactus. In Turner’s pipeline were a destroyer and three little YPs (district patrol craft) on 31 August, cargo ship Betelgeuse and a destroyer on 1 September, and cargo ship Fomalhaut and three APDs on the third. The prognosis for Sopac’s long-range fuel situation looked good. In September three brand-new fleet oilers were to join the Cimarron, Sabine, and Guadalupe and permit release of the hard-used Platte and Kaskaskia for refit.16
After dark Fletcher reversed course for the customary turnaround near latitude 10° south between San Cristóbal and Ndeni. Cactus reports were encouraging and discouraging. In a skillful ambush marine fighters claimed eighteen land Zeros, and in truth bagged nine carrier Zeros operating from Buka, a severe blow for Nagumo. That afternoon, though, a second strike sank the high-speed transport Colhoun but did not molest the stricken William Ward Burrows. Neither McCain nor Cactus could counter enemy ships shuttling up and down the Slot. Two SBDs on moonlight patrol missed what was believed at least two cruisers and two destroyers discharging troops and cargo at Taivu Point, while ten dive bombers only secured a near miss on a cruiser. Actually a destroyer and four patrol boats dropped off five hundred men and four artillery pieces without loss. The nightly Guadalcanal troops runs became all too easy. “At this distance,” King declared, “it is difficult to understand how enemy operations such as [the 30 August landings noted above] and the destroyer bombardment [the night of 24–25 August] can approach [Lunga] and proceed relatively unmolested.” He did not appreciate that swift warships leaving Shortland about noon could draw into strike range of Cactus only after dark, deliver their loads, and scoot out of air attack range by dawn. Only by repeated carrier raids against Shortland, parking a carrier task force southwest of Guadalcanal, or the permanent stationing of a surface strike force at Lunga could effect the complete interdiction King desired. Whether any of that was feasible or even possible was another matter entirely.17
Just before midnight on 30 August, Noyes left with TF-18 (Wasp) for Nouméa. Fletcher’s other two carriers were to patrol east of San Cristóbal the next two days, then meet the two oilers north of Espíritu Santo. The balance of the night as TF-61 drew near latitude 10° south was quiet except for a curious incident. At 0210 the Saratoga’s radar picked up a surface contact nine miles west. Fletcher detailed the Farragut to investigate the contact, which meanwhile closed to eleven thousand yards. The Farragut soon reported four ships proceeding due north. Fletcher told her to challenge and executed an emergency turn to starboard. Receiving no reply, the Farragut closed, only to recognize and report a carrier. “Are you sure you’re not following this force?” Fletcher retorted. The Farragut sheepishly responded: “It is possible we are.” The destroyer had mixed up the bearings provided by TBS. Fletcher resumed base course of 340 degrees. At first light, TF-61 drew within twenty-five miles of latitude 10° south and was about seventy-five miles east of San Cristóbal. Fletcher turned southeast and zigzagged at the customary thirteen knots. Seven destroyers screened TF-11. Operating several miles off the port quarter, the Hornet provided routine combat air patrol, search, and antisubmarine patrols.18
At 0641 while zigzagging, TF-11 turned to 180 degrees, its destroyers scrambling to attain proper position. Six minutes later the TBS blared: “Torpedo headed for carrier on course 050 True!” The Macdonough, patrolling thirty-five hundred yards off the Sara’s starboard bow, registered a sonar contact four hundred yards dead ahead. A few seconds later, a periscope popped up only ten yards off her bow, followed by a scraping sound on her hull. The destroyer rolled two depth charges, but unfortunately failed to arm them. At the same time a torpedo broached the surface close aboard her port quarter. Cdr. Yokota Minoru of the I-26 fired a spread of six torpedoes from a 120-degree angle off the huge carrier’s bow. The Macdonough indeed brushed his hull. Ramsey ordered right full rudder and full speed to swing the Saratoga to starboard and comb torpedo wakes. He nearly succeeded. Overestimating target speed, Yokota aimed most of his fish well ahead. Even so, at 0648 a deep running torpedo sliced inside the Sara’s turn and grazed the new starboard blister just aft of the island. Murray in the distant Hornet saw a geyser of water rise higher than the Saratoga’s mast and instantly turned TF-17 away. The effect of that blast at close hand was quite dramatic. The Sara “went into a fit and fairly lifted itself out of the water and then shook itself good,” like a “house in a severe earthquake.” High up on the flag bridge Fletcher “banged his head against something,” that “cut his forehead” and caused blood to run “all over his face.” Bending over the plot, he found dripping blood a nuisance and summoned a pharmacist’s mate to slap on a bandage so he could get on with business. The medical department duly entered Fletcher’s name on the casualty list that miraculously numbered only a dozen, with no fatalities. Months later to his intense surprise and embarrassment, he received the Purple Heart for what he deemed a trifling wound. Yet the circumstances completely conformed to the criteria set for the decoration. Fletcher was the top U.S. naval officer awarded the Purple Heart in World War II. He never reported the injury to his superiors, so the wound had nothing to do with his subsequent relief.19
Listing to starboard, the Saratoga reached sixteen knots, but at 0653 her engines stopped. “Within a few minutes the giant ship was dead in the water under a leaden, but clearing sky.” Fletcher ordered the destroyers to circle the carrier and released the North Carolina to take refuge in TF-17. At 0705 he broke radio silence to inform Ghormley, McCain, and Noyes that the Saratoga had been torpedoed one hundred miles east of San Cristóbal and 220 miles southeast of Lunga. TF-61 was at the edge of strike range of bombers based at Rabaul. Fletcher alerted Wright to prepare the Minneapolis and New Orleans to handle the tow. Captain Brewer (Comdesron One) cautioned the sub “can get through this circle” and requested more air cover. The Minneapolis furnished SOCs for inner air patrol. Now it was up to Ramsey’s experts to mitigate the effects of the Sara’s impairment and restore mobility. They found themselves in a fix worse than the Saratoga faced on 11 January. At that time despite a torpedo hit on the port side amidships that flooded three fire rooms, the Sara maintained sixteen knots. Now in unwitting symmetry, the I-26’s torpedo struck almost exactly opposite on the starboard side. Though only one fire room out of sixteen flooded, the whole propulsion system failed. Instead of conventional steam-driven turbines, the Saratoga utilized an innovative turboelectric drive. Shock damage, though, tripped the circuit breakers and knocked out the whole system. On his way to report to Fletcher and Ramsey, Cdr. Vincent W. Grady, the engineer officer, remarked to Clark Lee: “Doesn’t look so good.” Although there was trouble with the electrical boards in main control, he “hoped to get one shaft going soon.”20
The Saratoga’s list increased to 6 degrees. Scuttlebutt later recounted that when the “cans [were] running all around dropping depth charges, and the ship was listing more,” Fletcher supposedly yelled down to Ramsey just below on the navigating bridge: “Duke, when are you going to counter flood? I think you ought to counter flood.” Ramsey is said to have replied, “Okay, Admiral, just wait a while.” When Fletcher asked again, Ramsey “leaned back and looked up and said: ‘Goddammit, Admiral, I’m the captain of this ship, and I’m not going to counter flood until I think it’s right.’” Fletcher then replied, “Yeah, I guess you are.” It was said Fletcher relented because “Ramsey was such a quiet man that if he spoke up like that” Fletcher “really knew that he’d pushed him to the end right there.” If this incident indeed occurred as recounted much later, Fletcher in the heat of the moment must have had in mind the excessive list the Yorktown rapidly assumed at Midway. On 11 January the Saratoga counter flooded to right the ship, but Ramsey no longer had that option, ironically because of the elaborate starboard buoyancy blister installed that spring while repairing torpedo damage from the first hit. In this case the experts adroitly transferred oil from starboard to eight small voids on the port side and dumped two large oil tanks in the starboard blister. However, little margin remained for more underwater damage.21
On his next trip to the bridge Grady called out to Lee: “Maybe we can get her going after all!” He soon had the list under control and the number four propeller shaft turning over. The Sara swung gingerly to port and moved at five knots. The destroyers reformed the screen. In the past half hour they twice depth-charged the sub, but without success. Fletcher detailed the Monssen to hold it down until dark, while Murray provided the Bagley to take her place in the Sara’s screen. Fletcher’s goal after clearing the immediate area was to see the Saratoga Air Group, her prime battle asset, safely ashore. He and others were acutely conscious they were still within range of Rabaul’s bombers. At 0900 the North Carolina, now with TF-17, reported many bogeys bearing 120 degrees, distance twenty-three miles, and thought to be planes hunting the crippled carrier. Much later Cato Glover explained, “It was somewhat of a miracle that we were spared, due to the fact that our destroyers sank the sub and the Jap planes never located us.” In fact the I-26 survived, and no planes were coming, but the impression of imminent danger existed all the same.22
The Saratoga maneuvered slowly into the wind to launch aircraft, but her turboelectric drive shorted out again. Fletcher told the Minneapolis to take her in tow. Destroyers resumed circling, and the Bagley fired depth charges at a contact that failed to develop into a sub. By 1104 when the cruiser sent across the first line, Grady’s men succeeded in bringing the Sara back to even keel. The Minneapolis started ahead slowly at 1136, dragging her mammoth tow southeast into the wind. The Sara greatly assisted by gradually working up to seven knots. That, along with the fifteen-knot wind, provided the “fortuitous circumstances” that permitted flight operations. Cincpac justly praised the “unique performance” of a carrier launching planes while being towed. At 1230 twenty SBDs and nine TBFs started taking off for Espíritu Santo 275 miles southeast. That was too far for F4F Wildcats with internal fuel only, but the wind was too light for a fighter loaded with a belly tank to take off. Schindler accompanied the flight, carrying a dispatch to Ghormley with the bare details of the attack and Fletcher’s intention to “make best speed” southeast. Schindler was also to inquire where Ghormley wanted the other Saratoga planes sent. At 1547 the Saratoga gratefully cast off the tow and attained twelve knots on her own. Fletcher proffered a heartfelt “well done” to both the Saratoga and Minneapolis. A half hour later he returned the Bagley to TF-17. If the Sara’s unpredictable propulsion system behaved, TF-11 would soon get clear of possible pursuit.23
With the shocking news of the torpedoing of the Saratoga, Ghormley recast his plans. At 0830 he directed Fletcher to “report condition Saratoga as soon as possible” and promised to have the ocean tug Navajo and a destroyer meet TF-11 off Espíritu Santo in two days. When the Saratoga was hit, Noyes was two hundred miles southeast. He turned toward Fletcher and after receiving Ghormley’s orders, shaped course northeast to intercept TF-11 by dawn. He also released Crutchley with the Australia, Hobart, and Selfridge to proceed to Brisbane and rejoin MacArthur. Ghormley impatiently awaited additional word from Fletcher. In its absence he redirected the two oilers to a new rendezvous northeast of Espíritu Santo with Murray’s TF-17 on 2 September. During the day Murray maneuvered at fifteen knots to keep within visual distance of the Saratoga and released the Phoenix, Patterson, and Bagley to catch up to Crutchley. Fletcher detached Murray at sunset to proceed independently to the revised fueling rendezvous. At 2050 Ghormley radioed McCain to ask whether any of his planes had seen the Saratoga since 0700 and if he “heard anything from Fletcher.” Airsopac PBYs indeed covered TF-11 most of the day, and McCain’s dozing communicators finally acknowledged that Saratoga planes had landed at Espíritu Santo six hours before. McCain suggested Fletcher fly to Efate all remaining planes not required to protect TF-11, “particularly as many fighters as can be spared,” while a destroyer brought spare parts and maintenance personnel. A well-trained air group might make all the difference in holding Guadalcanal. In another message McCain very astutely forecast, “Cactus can be a sinkhole for enemy air power and can be consolidated expanded and exploited to enemy’s mortal hurt.”24
Early on 1 September Noyes left for Nouméa unsure he had fuel to get all his destroyers there. He did, just barely. Murray closed San Cristóbal while watching for trouble at Cactus. The Saratoga made fourteen knots, but the partially disabled turboelectric drive required “thorough examination and test prior departure Sopac area.” Fletcher told Ghormley he did not, “at present,” need the Navajo but wanted her to stand by just in case. Twenty Saratoga SBDs and twelve TBFs had deployed to Espíritu Santo, leaving thirty-six fighters on board. “Will await your instructions on where and how many to fly off.” TF-11 had provisions at reduced rations to last to 10 September. Fletcher judged two cruisers and four destroyers enough to screen the Saratoga. Ghormley sent the Guadalupe to fuel TF-11 and the Cimarron to TF-17.25
Fletcher’s caution regarding the Sara’s propulsion proved justified when she had to slow to ten knots that morning. Nothing untoward occurred as TF-11 limped east of Espíritu Santo. Ghormley left to Fletcher’s discretion the number of planes needed for the voyage to Pearl and told him to fly the rest to Efate the next day. Fletcher was to draw the minimum necessary provisions at Tongatabu and utilize the repair ship Vestal and tug Seminole to help effect temporary repairs. On the morning of 2 September Fletcher sent three TBFs to Espíritu Santo with his plans. The Saratoga still hobbled along at ten knots, but he could not say whether she could even make Tongatabu on her own. Therefore he retained the Navajo and requested the Seminole help get the huge carrier safely up the channel into Tongatabu harbor. He expected to reach there on 6 September. On 4 September the Saratoga engineers completed temporary repairs. “Only then,” one historian stressed, “could the engineering plant report anything resembling normal capability, despite the fact that the total direct damage caused by the torpedo amounted to the flooding of one boiler room and the partial flooding of another.” TF-11 arrived at Tongatabu on 6 September without further incident. Once the Saratoga was patched and her escort refueled and provisioned, she could start north for Pearl.26
Twenty-eight Saratoga fighters flew to Efate to join the twenty-two SBDs and thirteen TBFs there. All fought at Guadalcanal. Fletcher kept eight F4Fs, eight SBDs, and four TBFs. Nimitz notified King, “All aircraft that can be spared from Enterprise Saratoga being transferred Comsopac for use present campaign.” The deployment of carrier aircraft and pilots to fight from shore bases was “necessary because of lack of suitable Army type planes for Guadalcanal fighting,” but “most uneconomical” given “our present shortage trained carrier air groups.” The army must live up to its commitment to the Watchtower offensive by supplying the necessary air reinforcements that Sopac required to fight and win in the Solomons. “Lets give Cactus the wherewithall [sic] to live up to its name. Something for the Japs to remember forever.”27
The torpedoing of the Saratoga on 31 August, which sidelined that carrier for three months, caused Fletcher criticism, both for being in sub-imperiled waters and for not taking proper precautions. Commander Laing, the British naval liaison officer riding the North Carolina, commented it was “rather remarkable that the Japanese had not been able to torpedo a ship sooner than they did, observing the length of time U.S. forces had been operating in the area and the slow speeds usually employed.” The Royal Navy already had their fill of enemy submarine successes, having lost three carriers and a battleship to U-boats in the open sea. Nimitz’s report of 31 October 1942 emphasized that during much of August, Fletcher crisscrossed the same waters east and south of the Solomons. In particular, from 26 to 31 August TF-61 had, while covering the route from Espíritu Santo to Cactus, loitered within a rectangle only 150 miles long by sixty miles wide, despite evidence subs concentrated there. The “mission did not require that the Task Force be restricted to this area.” Ghormley took issue, giving credence, unlike Nimitz, to the threat from northeast of Espíritu Santo. As noted, he endeavored to deploy his carriers “as far to the eastward as possible,” while still protecting the crucial Espíritu Santo–Cactus line. In January 1943 Noyes, too, asserted, “The general directives for the support of the Cactus area required Task Force 61 to operate in that general area.” Fletcher emphasized the danger subs and land-based air posed to largely static patrolling. “If the carrier remains there, it is only a question of time until she is hit by a torpedo or bomb.” Instead, carriers should be “risked in areas where enemy forces are likely to be encountered only when our forces are ready to attack.” Then they should “strike hard by continuous air attacks until objective is achieved” and depart. Circumstances, though, never gave Fletcher that option.28
Ghormley, Fletcher, and Noyes became discredited from blunders attributed to them in the Solomons campaign. One who remained untainted was Rear Adm. Dewitt Ramsey. When interviewed in February 1943 in connection with the loss of the Wasp, Ramsey testified that in “covering the Guadalcanal–Espiritu Santo line,” it was “necessary for the Saratoga to be projected in the areas in which she was cruising.” Furthermore, “It apparently was the belief of the responsible officers with whom the general subject was discussed that the continuance of our operations in a relatively small area, well knowing that we were sighted almost daily by the enemy, would result in a large concentration of Japanese submarines in that area and the eventual torpedoing of some of our units in spite of all precautions that we could take.” To the question how it was possible to cover the Espíritu Santo–Guadalcanal line “without projecting carriers into an area in which submarines were known to be active,” Ramsey affirmed, “It was necessary risk which had to be taken at that time.” He spoke as a close confidant of Fletcher and certainly reflected his old boss’s thinking.29
Fletcher’s affinity for daylight steaming at thirteen knots was also controversial. Boscoe Wright later attributed it to his “concern for conserving his fuel supply,” which “led him to take what I believe to be unwarranted risks.” Nimitz’s 31 October 1942 report condemned speeds that “were too slow for waters known to contain submarines.” By then it seemed obvious, “If the fuel situation made it necessary to run at such speeds as 13 knots, then the Task Force should have been removed to a locality of fewer submarine contacts.” However, Fletcher did not keep to thirteen knots simply due to fuel worries or natural torpidity. Instead he followed the destroyer antisubmarine doctrine current at the time. When asked in January 1943 whether a cruising speed of sixteen knots was “adequate under the circumstances,” George Murray noted the effectiveness of the destroyer underwater detection gear deteriorated significantly at fifteen knots and above. “While it is generally held by large numbers of destroyer captains that they can provide an effective sound screen and detect the presence of submarines in an area when steaming at fifteen knots or below, the experience of carrier task forces definitely indicates that high speeds with less effective sound gear affords better protection for the heavy ships.” Capt. Forrest Sherman likewise stated in January 1943, “The effectiveness of listening gear as now installed in our destroyers drops off rapidly at speeds above 15–16 knots.” Thus Fletcher steamed at thirteen knots to enhance sonar reception. Of course, it became manifest on 31 August and in the succeeding fortnight that U.S. destroyer sound gear and training were not up to the task. Only on 7 October, after subs picked off the Saratoga, Wasp, and North Carolina, did Cincpac direct, “In probable submarine waters speeds of 15 knots or better will be maintained and particular care will be given to A/S Screening disposition.”30
Critics also disputed Fletcher’s reaction to the strange encounter that occurred four hours before the Saratoga was torpedoed thirty miles north. Ghormley chided him for not taking full precautions in the event the radar contact was a sub. Cincpac concurred. The Cominch Secret Battle Experiences Bulletin No. 2 observed that a “well organized and conducted search” at the time of first contact “might have been worth while.” Morison referred to the “acrimonious debate” this incident is said to have engendered, but if so, the acrimony was all on the side of the critics. Phantom radar contacts at night were not particularly unusual. Fletcher did send the Farragut to check out the contact, even if her response turned into a fiasco. He did not know at the time that ships other than the Saratoga also had that contact on radar.31
Central to the question of how the Saratoga came to be torpedoed is the number of available destroyers given King’s vehement insistence each carrier must always operate singly within her own task force. On 31 August TF-11 and TF-17 each had seven destroyers in their separate screens. Had Fletcher combined the two carriers in the same disposition, as he repeatedly advocated, there would have been one screen of fourteen destroyers. Murray certainly perceived the lack and asked Ghormley on 2 September for more destroyers “in view present increased submarine threat this area.” He recommended at least two destroyers per heavy ship. In January 1943 Murray proposed a dozen destroyers ideal for a carrier task force. Nimitz certainly recognized the paucity of destroyers was key to the sub troubles in the South Pacific. The “greatest improvement” in antisubmarine protection would occur “when there are sufficient destroyers to provide a solid sound front in a complete circular screen.”32
Nimitz likewise decreed on 31 October, “Carrier task forces are not to remain in submarine waters for long periods, should shift operating areas frequently and radically, must maintain higher speed, and must in other ways improve their tactics against submarine attack.” Conceding that carriers were vital for holding Guadalcanal, he recognized they must “venture into submarine waters only when necessary, and while there . . . operate in a suitable manner to reduce the submarine hazard.” Such laudable goals were not feasible given the conditions Fletcher actually faced in August 1942. Ramsey recalled in February 1943, “No provision had been made for accommodating a large aircraft carrier in any port adjacent to the waters of the Coral Sea.” Thus, “It was necessary, in the interest of meeting the requirements of our mission, to remain underway in the areas previously stated and to fuel underway with comparative frequency.” In January 1943 Forrest Sherman explained, “The operations off the Solomons, during the time that I was there, involved keeping carriers at sea for such long periods that fuel consumption and endurance between refuelings were always matters of concern.” The carriers should move in “when required, and when their work is done retire from those positions, at the highest speed permitted by the endurance of their escorting ships.” Fletcher concurred.33
The crippling of Fletcher’s flagship caused an awkward command situation, in that he wore two hats, CTF-61 in overall command and CTF-11 in charge of the Saratoga group. Ordinarily once a flagship sustained damage, the admiral simply shifted to another ship in his force. In this case, with mandated single carrier task forces, Fletcher would need to displace Noyes or Murray, but Nimitz and Ghormley offered no guidance. On 2 September Ghormley told Fletcher to designate one heavy cruiser and three destroyers to escort the Saratoga to Pearl, along with the Atlanta and two destroyers. While Fletcher estimated his “own readiness to depart for Pearl,” the remaining ships were to draw provisions at Tongatabu and “await orders to join other task force.” That implied Fletcher was to leave as well, but Ghormley was unsure where Nimitz stood in the matter. On 5 September he informed Fletcher that “in view of contemplated operations,” Admiral Wright was to have the one TF-11 heavy cruiser to remain in Sopac. That eventuated from a conversation between Ghormley and Noyes on 3 September in Nouméa. Ghormley made it clear he wanted Noyes to serve as CTF-61 in Fletcher’s place. In turn Noyes asked for the cruisers and destroyers of old TF-11 “to break up enemy night raids by cruisers and destroyers to Cactus.” Ghormley agreed “in principle” and formed TF-64, but “wished to keep it under his own hand for the present.” Fletcher had suggested Crutchley’s TF-44 for a separate Sopac surface force, but Ghormley did not follow through.34
On 6 September Fletcher advised Nimitz and Ghormley of temporary repairs that should permit the Saratoga to depart for Pearl in three or four days. Wright’s Minneapolis and four destroyers had enough fuel to reach Nouméa. The rest of TF-11 required more oil for the run to Pearl, but none was available at Tongatabu. The time had come for Ghormley to know whether he could dispense with Fletcher, but he was reluctant to go ahead and relieve him. He radioed Nimitz (information to Fletcher): “I assume you want Fletcher return Pearl with Saratoga. I am preparing make Noyes Comtaskfor Sixty One.” Nimitz replied, “Affirmative.” The next day Ghormley created TF-64 under Wright with the Minneapolis, light cruisers Boise and Leander, and four destroyers and assigned it “temporarily” to Turner. Sopac Op-Plan 3–42, issued on 9 September, formally named Noyes CTF-61.35
Fletcher in the meantime readied truncated TF-11 for the voyage north. With the help of the Vestal’s experts, the Saratoga’s engineers heeled the ship sharply to port and patched the torpedo hole. The Sara was not the only behemoth at Tongatabu hankering for a distant dry dock. On 3 September TG-2.9 under Rear Adm. Willis Augustus “Ching” Lee (Commander, Battleship Division Six) turned up with the new fast battleship South Dakota, light cruiser Juneau, and three destroyers. Lee was to clear the harbor at dawn, 6 September, before TF-11 arrived, and join Noyes’s TF-18 two days later northeast of New Caledonia. On the way out the battleship scraped an uncharted rock pinnacle and tore a hole in her bottom. Lee predicted (he called it a “tobacco juice estimate”) that repairs would require two weeks in dock. Ghormley substituted the South Dakota for the Atlanta in TF-11. Lee was to await the battleship Washington expected at Tongatabu in a few weeks. Wright left for Espíritu Santo on 10 September, the day the new fleet oiler Kankakee stood into Tongatabu. Fletcher advised he would sail on 12 September to reach Pearl on the twenty-first. Ghormley offered TF-11 a gracious farewell. “We will all miss you. You are leaving us much of your hard hitting striking force and your example as fearless fighters and a skilled persevering team as demonstrated by Saratoga engineers. Hurry back we will need you. Well done.” Hurrying back to the South Pacific in the restored Saratoga was precisely Fletcher’s own intention, but others had a different idea.36
While Fletcher slogged north with his two maimed giants, Saratoga and South Dakota, momentous events rocked Sopac, as terrible misfortune befell his classmate and successor Leigh Noyes.37
While the Wasp replenished at Nouméa, Murray’s TF-17 patrolled southeast of Guadalcanal. On 3 September Ghormley further restricted the carriers to south of latitude 12° south (120 miles farther south than the 27 August order) and east of the Ndeni–Espíritu Santo line unless, as always, “promising targets” appeared. That ended any chance of swift carrier intervention at Cactus. Ignoring that direct order, Murray crossed the Ndeni–Espíritu Santo line and cruised the southern Solomons as far west as Rennell island, south of Guadalcanal. After he started back east, the I-11 very nearly torpedoed the Hornet on 7 September. Only the great good luck of a plane dropping a depth charge, which touched off warheads of two incoming fish, prevented catastrophe. The next afternoon Murray advised Ghormley of the circumstances and his belief the enemy detected him. He requested permission to operate within three hundred miles of Lunga as necessary. “Astounded” Murray deliberately contravened his orders, Ghormley “invited” his attention to the revised directive and icily counseled him to hasten “at good speed” east of longitude 166° east. Murray nonetheless ventured northeast toward the Santa Cruz Islands through waters previously teeming with subs and only at sundown on 8 September again crossed the boundary. Others beside Ghormley noticed Murray’s impulsive actions.38
On 8 September Noyes nosed TF-18 (Wasp) out of Nouméa in temporary company with Turner’s flagship McCawley. Planning to transport the Seventh Marines to Lunga, Turner requested two additional land-based fighter squadrons and two SBD squadrons to beef up the Cactus Air Force. If McCain could not furnish them, “Presumably the carriers will help.” He also desired Noyes to run a constant daylight antisubmarine air patrol between San Cristóbal, Malaita, and Guadalcanal and be prepared to strike any threatening forces “within a few hours.” Noyes responded he could not release any carrier planes or keep the flattops in one restricted area for antisubmarine patrols. Up to his old tricks in making unfeasible demands, Turner’s acrid reply left no doubt his opinion of Noyes differed little from his pungent feelings toward Fletcher. Perplexed, Noyes summarized the exchange so Ghormley would not “misunderstand” his position. “I am sure you realize I want to be of every assistance possible in this operation but the point about being tied down to operating within a fixed distance of Guadalcanal is one I feel sure you agree with me about. I had not thought that anyone even considered it wise to land any aircraft from these remaining carriers.”39
Ghormley reiterated TF-61 must remain south of latitude 12° south and east of the Ndeni–Espíritu Santo line except for extraordinary circumstances. He wanted the carriers close to the line of communication between the main island groups. Noyes proposed to swing TF-61 north and east of the Santa Cruz Islands, seeking “tactical advantage” by flanking the next offensive from the east. “This would involve withdrawing the close support that we had previously given to Cactus [meaning the ships proceeding from Espíritu Santo to Guadalcanal], but Admiral Ghormley felt that with our carriers reduced to two this must be accepted.” That plan also avoided the nest of subs between San Cristóbal and Espíritu Santo. On 11 September Noyes met Murray east of Espíritu Santo and reformed TF-61 with the Wasp and Hornet (154 planes). In the meantime General Kawaguchi consolidated his forces at Taivu Point and marched west to seize Lunga. Kondō left Truk on 9 September with the entire Support Force, including Nagumo’s Kidō Butai. The arrival of the Zuihō restored Nagumo to three carriers, but with only 129 planes. Continuing to underestimate U.S. strength, Yamamoto expected Kawaguchi to eliminate the air base at Guadalcanal while Kondō destroyed U.S. carriers attempting to relieve the beleaguered garrison.40
Ghormley released twenty-four VF-5 fighters from Efate to Cactus. Murray delivered eighteen spare Wildcats to Espíritu Santo, but they lacked belly tanks and could not reach Lunga on their own. McCain asked Noyes to deliver the eighteen F4Fs to Guadalcanal. He responded with alacrity, retrieved them, and crossed Comsopac’s northwest limit to draw within ferry range of Cactus by dawn on the thirteenth. Presented with a fait accompli, Ghormley approved. Kawaguchi’s night assault ran into ferocious opposition on “Bloody Ridge.” At dawn Noyes’s carriers dispatched the fighters from 290 miles southeast of Guadalcanal. Wary of enemy carriers and a powerful surface force believed patrolling north of the Solomons, Noyes withdrew southeast toward Santa Cruz to resume the original flanking position. With Ghormley’s blessing, McCain committed as many stranded carrier planes as Cactus could handle. That evening a dozen SBDs and six TBFs from the beached Saratoga group also flew to Guadalcanal. They and the forty-two Wildcats received in the last two days courtesy of the carriers helped turn the tide in the face of fierce air attacks. That night the marines won the Battle of the Ridge and thus round two in the fight for Guadalcanal.
On 14 September Turner’s TF-65 convoy sailed from Espíritu Santo, covered by Wright’s TF-64 (three cruisers and six destroyers). Noyes sallied west through the Santa Cruz Islands to guard Turner’s advance from one hundred miles northeast. Late that morning a PBY warned of four battleships and seven carriers 325 miles northwest of TF-61 and closing. Noyes resolutely turned toward them and rang up twenty-three knots despite the Wasp’s suspect turbines. He realized the report was likely an exaggeration but possibly represented a superior force. The PBY corrected its report to three battleships, four cruisers, four destroyers, and one transport, while another Catalina located one carrier, three cruisers, and four destroyers two hundred miles north of the original contact. McCain’s searchers found Kondō’s Advance Force, with Nagumo’s Kidō Butai ranged behind it. Noyes dispatched a tactical scouting group of fourteen Wasp SBDs to 275 miles, followed by thirty-nine Hornet strike planes. He expected an air counterattack at any time. So did McCain, who ordered all but the seaplane tenders Curtiss, Mackinac, and McFarland to flee Espíritu Santo. Two hours passed before Noyes heard from McCain that the enemy ships were seen withdrawing north. After his own search turned up no U.S. carriers, Yamamoto had ordered the whole Support Force to break off for fuel. In turn the Wasp SBDs missed Kondō by only fifty miles. The day was one of blunted expectations, one of the great “almosts” of the Guadalcanal campaign. A carrier strike against Kondō would have touched off a donnybrook on the fifteenth.
Believing the grave danger to TF-65 persisted, Noyes regained his covering position to the north. Himself moving warily west, Turner worried that shadowers could call in air strikes and powerful surface forces to intercept at night. However, unlike the previous day, the Airsopac searches on the fifteenth proved surprisingly quiet. The enemy in fact passed north out of range, but flying boats sighted both TF-61 and TF-65. Turner’s detection triggered an air strike from Rabaul that never found him. The snooper contacting the carriers did not survive long enough to report back. Noyes stressed to Murray the vital need for all possible support for Turner. While the transports proceeded into Lunga the next day, Noyes intended to range ahead out beyond Rennell island, south of Guadalcanal. On the afternoon of 15 September when TF-61, cruising at sixteen knots, was 150 miles southeast of San Cristóbal (and one hundred miles south of where the Saratoga was torpedoed), Noyes completed routine flight operations and turned to resume the westerly base course. TF-61 had unwittingly penetrated the center of another sub deployment line, and the I-19 unleashed the single most devastating salvo of the war. Two torpedoes struck the Wasp, igniting vast fires and huge explosions fed by the aviation gasoline tanks, munitions, and armed and fueled planes parked in the hangar. Flaming like a torch, the doomed carrier took an 11-degree list. “Shirt, hair, and ears burned in the flash,” Noyes was lucky to survive a fiery blast that swept over the bridge. The Wasp was “pretty well shattered from number two elevator well down and forward at least to the splinter deck.” Only thirty-five minutes after the attack, Sherman consulted with Noyes and ordered abandon ship. The I-19 salvo not only finished the Wasp, but also plowed through Murray’s TF-17 six miles northeast. Damage from one fish later caused the destroyer O’Brien to sink. Another torpedo ripped a huge hole in the North Carolina’s port bow and flooded the forward magazines. She quickly corrected a 5.5-degree list and held twenty-five knots. Murray cleared out to eastward, while Scott rescued the Wasp’s crew. She sank that evening with forty-six planes, while twenty-five aircraft reached the Hornet. Because the Japanese fleet had retired, the sinking of the Wasp did not compromise Turner’s vital mission.41
While Turner’s TF-65 reinforced Guadalcanal, Murray’s TF-17 with the Hornet, the fleet’s sole remaining intact carrier, stayed in the rear off Espíritu Santo. On 20 September Ghormley directed Murray to operate “in general” between latitudes 13° and 20° south and longitudes 165° to 177° east, while avoiding the direct routes between New Caledonia–Espíritu Santo and New Caledonia–Fiji. Recognizing such a vast operating region was essentially meaningless, Nimitz suggested Ghormley consider withdrawing his heavy ships to Nouméa “or other protected anchorages except when employed for specific tasks.” That would “decrease hazard from subs, conserve fuel, save wear and tear and give air groups better chance to train.” King opined, “It is obvious that protracted operations of our task forces on a strategically static basis in submarine infested waters is proving increasingly hazardous.” That precisely reflected the departed Fletcher’s fervent belief. With the enemy carrier force at least temporarily inactive, Ghormley released Murray to Nouméa for the long awaited opportunity to reprovision and rest.42
Rear Adm. Leigh Noyes.
Courtesy of National Archives (80-G-302350)
Leigh Noyes’s tenure as CTF-61 lasted less than a week. He faced bitter recriminations for losing the Wasp. Ghormley charged TF-61 should not have even been there. “It was urgent and vitally necessary that this convoy get to Guadalcanal safely, but I did not expect that it would be necessary to augment the air coverage given by our land-based aircraft from [Espíritu Santo] and from Guadalcanal.” Thus the carriers should not have gone “into the area which was infested by submarines in order to provide air cover to these transports unless such became an urgent necessity.” Ghormley did admit his orders gave Noyes the “freedom of action if the situation demanded that close air coverage be given,” and to “do it unhesitatingly.” Yet Ghormley preferred the carriers to deploy forward only “if the enemy carriers came into the picture as a threat to our task forces.” He also criticized Noyes for taking insufficient precautions against subs by repeatedly crossing his previous track in waters where they lurked. Noyes and Sherman vigorously defended their movements, responding that the Wasp succumbed where TF-61 had to be in order to protect Turner’s convoy from hostile forces to the north. Noyes also pointed out the attack on the Wasp occurred “150 miles from nearest point of crossing an old track, and in an area which had not been entered or approached previously.”43
The paucity of destroyers and King’s stubborn insistence (ratified by Nimitz) that carriers cruise singly in separate screens at all times strongly contributed to the loss of the Wasp as well as the crippling of the Saratoga. The 1943 Cominch Secret Battle Experience Bulletin did acknowledge that Noyes had “too few destroyers,” but rebuked him for not employing them “to best advantage.” Sherman, however, declared that a screen on a four-thousand-yard circle was “in accordance with standard practice” and “based to a considerable extent on the maximum utilization of sound gear.” The lack of destroyers was especially acute when changing course, when they had to rush to regain relative position ahead while their increased speed reduced the effectiveness of sound detection. Capt. Robert Tobin, Comdesron Twelve with TF-18, explained in February 1943, “The screen should be disposed completely around the carrier with the destroyers maintaining true positions at all times” to offer adequate protection no matter how the carrier maneuvered. “Ten to twelve destroyers would be required, depending upon sound conditions,” to cover a four-thousand-yard radius. King’s analysts allowed that the “determination of escort requirements as demonstrated by tactical experience, particularly for carrier operations, has an important bearing on other operations in prospect and on the distribution of destroyers.” However, King never accepted his responsibility in the torpedoing of the carriers in 1942 in the South Pacific. Thin screens of four to seven destroyers per task group remained the norm throughout 1943 even in multi-carrier formations, but beginning in January 1944 each carrier task group savored the protection of fourteen to sixteen tin cans.44
Admiral Halsey trenchantly observed on 9 October that employing the carriers in the Solomons “for a protracted period as a covering force for an operation in a fixed geographical location” violated a “most important principle” of war. It was “of the utmost importance that all responsible commanders recognize the fact that defensive employment of carriers which ties them down to restricted areas or fixed geographical points invites disaster.” Although necessary under the circumstances, Halsey judged, “We were extremely lucky not to have suffered heavier damage and loss in these operations.” Others entertained a different notion of the importance of the carriers in the Guadalcanal campaign. The Marine Corps official aviation history commented, “The loss or temporary inactivation of the Navy’s carriers had one salutary effect: Navy planes and pilots who otherwise would have been unemployed were pouring into Henderson Field.” Quipped Lt. Gen. Ross E. Rowell, Commander, Marine Air Wings, Pacific, “What saved Guadalcanal was the loss of so many carriers.” Therefore the planes deployed on the carriers were actually “unemployed.” That, of course, denigrated the strategic covering mission of the carriers and the bitter fighting they endured. Rowell and his marine compatriots would not have found it so amusing if the U.S. carriers had gone down in such a way that their planes were also lost, and consequently the Combined Fleet spearheaded the recapture of Guadalcanal.45