Greatest Aircraft Carrier Duel - March ‘99 World War II Feature

Captain Sprague’s Wasp received most of the fourth raid’s attention. Wasp Hellcats intercepted a large group of enemy planes at about 2:20 p.m. and shot down three, but another eight or nine planes attacked the carrier, which was steaming at 22 knots and executing a 15-degree left turn. Sprague quickly ordered a hard right to avoid one bomb dropped by a dive bomber that crashed into the sea barely seconds after its bomb exploded. Fragments from the bomb and disintegrating dive bomber bounced off Wasp’s hull and across the carrier, knocking over Marine Captain R.C. Rosacker and three others as they manned a 20mm gun. Rosacker and his crew quickly jumped back up and continued firing at enemy targets. Two other near-misses sprayed more fragments about Wasp, wounding one sailor, while an incendiary cluster showered the ship with phosphorus.

By the time that final raid ended, Ozawa had thrown 374 planes at his enemy. Less than 100 returned to their carriers. When added to the 50 land-based craft lost by Admiral Kakuta, the Japanese had sustained an incredible defeat. While losing only 22 fighters and 60 men, Spruance had removed Japanese carriers as a factor in the war.

While Ozawa’s four air raids futilely charged the American surface fleet, American submarines inflicted major damage on his fleet. Despite Japanese pilot Komatsu’s heroic action of purposely crashing into a torpedo headed directly at Taiho, Commander James W. Blanchard of the submarine Albacore had aimed five other torpedoes at the same target, one of which found its quarry. Since Taiho used highly volatile unrefined oil from Tarakan, the crew tried to pump the oil overboard before sparks ignited. One inexperienced officer opened the ventilating ducts to remove the fumes; instead, this further spread the dangerous gases throughout the carrier. At 3:32 p.m., a spark ignited the fumes, causing an eruption that blew out both sides of the ship’s hanger, warped the deck and ripped holes in the carrier’s bottom. After being evacuated with his staff aboard the destroyer Wakatsuki, and subsequently re-establishing command aboard the heavy cruiser Haguro, Ozawa watched the carrier explode and capsize, taking 1,650 men to their graves.

Commander Herman J. Kossler of the submarine Cavalla added to Ozawa’s woes. First sighting Shokaku at 11:52 a.m., Kossler moved into position and fired a spread of six torpedoes, four of which hit. For four hours the frantic crew tried to save Shokaku, but additional explosions doomed the carrier, which finally sank shortly before Taiho did. Another 1,263 men died with their carrier.

While devastation plagued Ozawa, Spruance turned his carriers north to recover jubilant, yet tired and shot-up pilots returning from the day’s slaughter. Although aviators urged him to chase Ozawa and complete the destruction, Spruance held off turning west because he did not know for sure what carriers Ozawa retained, nor where they were. He would not send weary crews against an enemy of undetermined strength, especially when they most likely would have to battle at night. And he was not prepared to abandon Saipan and leave it open to that flank attack he still considered a possibility.

At 8 p.m., Spruance ordered his carriers to head west during the night. Mitscher hoped he could lessen the distance separating Task Force 58 from Ozawa for a daylight attack.

Pilots scoured the air on June 20 trying to spot Ozawa. Finally, at 4 p.m., an Enterprise search plane located the enemy force in four groups 275 miles from Mitscher–just about the maximum range for American fighters. With a scant three hours of daylight left, the pilots would have to fly out, make at most two runs on the enemy, then return to their carriers before darkness or low fuel forced them into the sea. When Mitscher asked his operations officer, Commander W.J. Widhelm, if his pilots could successfully make the hazardous flight, Widhelm bluntly replied, “It is going to be tight.”

Mitscher accepted the risk, and at 4:10 the order went out to launch planes. Pilots rushed from ready rooms, where chalk board messages exhorted them to “Get the carriers!” and within 20 minutes more than 200 fighters, dive bombers and torpedo planes were speeding toward Ozawa. Each aviator hoped luck went along, for the amount of fuel did not give them much room for error. One gunner hopped into his Douglas SBD on Lexington and saw the crew give him a thumbs-up signal. “Thumbs up, hell!” he thought. “What they mean is ‘So long, sucker!’” Lieutenant Commander Robert A. Winston of Cabot doubted whether any of his squadron’s planes would return.