Battle of Surigao Strait

By Anthony P. Tully

“[Tully] paints Admiral Nishimura's high-speed run into history with an entirely fresh palette of detail.” —James D. Hornfischer, New York Times–bestselling author of Neptune’s Inferno
 
Surigao Strait in the Philippine Islands was the scene of a major battleship duel during the Battle of Leyte Gulf. Because the battle was fought at night and had few survivors on the Japanese side, the events of that naval engagement have been passed down in garbled accounts.
 
Anthony P. Tully pulls together all of the existing documentary material, including newly discovered accounts and a careful analysis of US Navy action reports, to create a new and more detailed description of the action. In several respects, Tully's narrative differs radically from the received versions and represents an important historical corrective. Also included in the book are a number of previously unpublished photographs and charts that bring a fresh perspective to the battle.
 
“By giving a fuller view of the Japanese side, Tully's work forces a substantial revision of the traditional picture of the battle. Battle of Surigao Strait is not only military history based on scrupulous use of a plethora of new source materials, but is a spanking good read. Highly recommended.” —War in History
 
“Tully has managed to trace the complicated flow of and reason for events on the nights of 24-25 October with a skill and aplomb that forces one to reconsider previously held views.” —Naval History

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 14, 2009
• ISBN: 9780253002822

Book preview

Battle of

Surigao Strait

TWENTIETH-CENTURY BATTLES

Edited by Spencer C. Tucker

The Battle of An Loc James H. Willbanks

The Battle of Heligoland Bight Eric W. Osborne

The Battle of Leyte Gulf: The Last Fleet Action H. P. Willmott

The Battle of the Otranto Straits: Controlling the Gateway to the Adriatic in World War I Paul G. Halpern

The Brusilov Offensive Timothy C. Dowling

D-Day in the Pacific: The Battle of Saipan Harold J. Goldberg

The Dieppe Raid: The Story of the Disastrous 1942 Expedition Robin Neillands

Midway Inquest: Why the Japanese Lost the Battle of Midway Dallas Woodbury Isom

Operation Albion: The German Conquest of the Baltic Islands Michael B. Barrett

This book is a publication of

Indiana University Press

601 North Morton Street

Bloomington, IN 47404-3797 USA

http://iupress.indiana.edu

Telephone orders 800-842-6796

Fax orders 812-855-7931

Orders by e-mail [e-mail]

© 2009 by Anthony P. Tully

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The Association of American University Presses’ Resolution on Permissions constitutes the only exception to this prohibition.

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Tully, Anthony P., date-

Battle of Surigao Strait / Anthony P. Tully.

p. cm. — (Twentieth-century battles)

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-0-253-35242-2 (cloth : alk. paper) 1. Leyte Gulf, Battle of, Philippines, 1944. 2. Surigao Strait (Philippines)—History, Military—20th century. I. Title.

D774.P5T75 2009

940.54′25997—dc22

2008031394

1 2 3 4 5 14 13 12 11 10 09

Dedicated to all the men

who died in battle at sea with their

stories untold or unknown

Shows the Philippine Islands setting and San Bernardino and Surigao Straits. Map prepared by Jon Parshall.

Contents

List of Maps

Preface

Acknowledgments

Abbreviations

PROLOGUE

Retiring towards the enemy.

1

I have returned.

2

Bah. We will do our best.

3

We are going to participate in a surface special attack.

4

It is deemed advisable for 2YB to storm into Leyte Gulf.

5

He gallantly came to a stop and started rescue work.

6

Everybody aboard thought a BB could force a narrow strait.

7

Make all ready for night battle.

8

A most tragic dispatch.

9

Take out the searchlight!

10

He wished them to know he was penetrating alone.

11

Just scored a big flare on 1 of them!

12

You are to proceed independently and attack all ships!

13

At 0345 observed battleship burning.

14

This has to be quick. Standby your torpedoes.

15

An awfully gruesome sound, which passed from left to right.

16

We proceed till totally annihilated.

17

We have arrived at battle site.

18

In God’s name, where’s the doctor?

19

The chances to succeed are nil.

20

It was the kind of naval battle you dream about.

EPILOGUE

A thing repeated will happen a third time.

Appendices

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Maps

1. The Philippines Area

2. Approach of the Nishimura and Shima forces

3. Battle of Surigao Strait, general main action

Preface

The battle of Surigao Strait was one of four major actions that compose the larger grand naval battle known collectively as the battle of Leyte Gulf.¹ The four battles grouped under that name are the battles of the Sibuyan Sea, Cape Engano, Samar, and Surigao Strait. The last battle and its associated operations are the subject of this volume. The battle of Surigao Strait is significant as the last surface battle between capital ships in WWII, and indeed, to date.² As such, Surigao Strait seems an appropriate volume for the Twentieth Century Battles series.

Although we are now more than sixty years removed from events, there has been no comprehensive treatment of the Surigao action since the Naval War College Analysis of 1958 of R. W. Bates and the closely intertwined volume 12, Leyte, of S. E. Morison’s History of U.S. Naval Operations in WW II. There is a group of excellent accounts of the battle of Leyte Gulf itself, particularly the battle of Samar, but Surigao is not among them. Such a treatment is both warranted and necessary, particularly at the operational level. The received record is in need of fundamental revision. In key places, it simply is not factually correct or sound in ways that extend beyond simple minutiae.

The present book had its beginnings when online articles I wrote in 1997 and 1999 to address recurring errors in the record spurred interest in the persisting mysteries, contradictions, and unanswered questions of the accepted account.³ These articles documented in detail how the conventional record has come down to us, and noted its weaknesses as well as its contradictions. In the interval, inspired by these articles, the diving community, and particularly John Bennett Deep Ocean Research International and the Discovery Channel, began in late 2000 to investigate some of these mysteries with a plan to locate and film the wrecks of the underwater battlefield of Surigao. I served as a historical consultant and fact-checker.⁴

Like many such long-term endeavors, the diving project has stopped and restarted and stopped again several times over the years since 2000.⁵ In the meantime I expanded my research, having discovered further aspects of the received account that do not stand up to scrutiny. Even if no wreck details were learned, there was ample new ground to break by more conventional means: a reexamination of all known available primary sources; attention to the neglected testimony of Japanese captured at Surigao; and most importantly, translation of modern Japanese sources to be found and arranged from contacts in Japan. In several places, this account differs radically from the received record and represents a major revision.

With the caveat that in the historian’s work certainties are few, it can reasonably be asserted that the book resolves some significant riddles of the battle of Surigao Strait and misinterpretation in the record regarding the purposes of Vice Admiral Nishimura’s mission. Among these is the enigma of the sinking of battleship Fuso, and the perplexing claim in prior accounts that she exploded and remained afloat in two burning sections. What really happened proves as interesting as the solution of a crime. Another is the actual intent of the orders issued by vice admirals Nishimura and Shima. Some other key questions about Surigao events raised by H. P. Willmott in his recent study of Leyte Gulf also find answer here.

Due to the wholesale loss and destruction of most of the Japanese ships and personnel of the Third Section, and later similar loss to those of Second Striking Force, it has been necessary to tell the Japanese side of the story through the perspective of eyewitnesses. Wherever possible these accounts have been checked against the known chronology and surviving records to constrain any inaccuracies. In some places, the laws of physics and basic logistical considerations drive the conclusions. In the final accounting, any responsibility for misinterpretation or overlooked errors rests is mine alone.

Acknowledgments

A work such as this one, involving what amounts to historical forensic reconstruction requiring assembly of scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, simply would not have been possible without the unstinting support of a great number of people. This group comprises a myriad of colleagues and contacts whom I have had the pleasure of encountering and with whom I have shared a rich correspondence. These individuals, including members of an active and enthusiastic online community, not only generously contributed and shared what information they had at their disposal, but also kept a sharp eye out for clues and scraps of relevant detail. I know I cannot do sufficient justice to their contributions over nearly a decade. This notice should be taken as a tip of an iceberg of gratitude.

A necessarily partial mention-in-dispatches roll call includes: Bill Somerville, who shared long-accumulated information and photographs; Jean-Francois Masson, who readily referenced and provided personnel and duty assignment details; Ed Low, moderator of J-aircraft for important insights and analysis on various technical and operational minutiae; Lars Ahlberg, who contributed significant technical details of the Japanese ships; Matthew Jones, who has helped before in orders of battle and biographies, and did so here; Anitra Guillory, who looked up relevant New York Times references in the library; Jim Hornfischer, who kindly provided copies of the actions reports of the Daly, Boise, and A. W. Grant; and Leonard Garrend, a veteran of Grant, who provided interesting recollections of that night and a unique contemporary article on Grant’s famous fight: Dying Crew, Sinking Ship, Refused to Die.

Thanks go to many of the usual suspects who also assisted me and Jon Parshall in the research for Shattered Sword. Long-time stalwarts Sander Kingsepp, who generously made and passed on translations from unusual sources as they caught the eye; Allyn Nevitt, whose friendship and correspondence, particularly on Imperial Japanese Navy destroyer TROMs,⁶ is ever memorable; Bob Hackett, who has provided a truly inspiring set of TROMs on our www.combinedfleet.com website; Hiro Inoue, long-time friend and translator; Richard Wolff, who passed on important yard rosters; and not least Jon Parshall himself, who contributed some newly researched and drafted maps of the battle. Significant to mention also here are Elena Konstantinou and her team at RTV for work on a film documentary and the opportunity to be involved in actual expeditions to Surigao Strait, with resulting insights of the battlefield. Finally, long-time friend James Moore provided stimulating feedback about the Surigao mysteries and important suggestions on how to improve the manuscript.

Special thanks goes to Kan Sugahara of Japan, who has done priceless, tireless work in locating and translating Japanese-language sources for me and provided a new and rewarding correspondence; to Spencer Tucker for encouraging me to write this study for the series and suggesting changes; and a special remembrance for the late John Bennett, whose enthused pursuit of the battleships as a diving objective helped spur and inspire this work in turn.

My thanks go to the staff at the National Archives II in College Park, Maryland, who perform its very valuable work all too often as anonymously as they do tirelessly. Next to last but not least, my thanks go to Robert Sloan and Indiana University Press, for giving these findings a publisher and chance to see print.

Finally, I must thank my family and friends for their ever-present support and encouragement. They had seen me in this cycle before on Shattered Sword and were no less supportive this time around. This ranged from discussion, proofreading, and suggestions to contributions toward expenses, and time/space when needed. My heart and gratitude goes out to them.

Abbreviations

Battle of Surigao Strait

Prologue

Retiring towards the enemy.

The battle of Surigao Strait had its genesis primarily from two key strategic considerations and adjustments necessary for the Japanese in the fall of 1944. First were the consequences of the disastrous outcome for Japan of the battle of the Marianas and the fall of Saipan in July. The second consideration derived from the first: the necessity to construct a response to the next major Allied offensive wherever it struck. That offensive arrived in the third week of October in the form of the Allied liberation of the Philippines, as forces led by General Douglas MacArthur made landings on Leyte island to fulfill a long-standing pledge to return.

Only the exact date of landing, not the event, could surprise the Japanese. Tokyo had been fully expecting a massive attack on either the Philippines, Formosa, or the Ryukyu Islands (which include Iwo Jima) once the Allies had regrouped from their summer operations. After the fall of Saipan the Japanese had been forced back to their final defense line, which included the Philippines and the islands off Asia—including Japan. For some time both the Japanese army and navy had been feverishly rushing to reinforce the Philippines, and especially the islands of Leyte and Luzon, where the first landings were projected. Even the general timing had been accurately forecast, for Combined Fleet had warned commands that the Americans would likely attempt a landing during or after the last ten days of October.¹

In addition to the collapse of their outer defense line the Japanese had another major problem. The carrier battle of the Marianas—famously called by the Americans the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot and by the Japanese A-GO Operation, or first battle of the Philippine Sea—had effectively destroyed Japanese carrier striking power. The U.S. Navy nickname tells the tale—Japanese planes, both carrier and land-based, had been shot down in the scores by the massed fighter and anti-aircraft gun defenses of Task Force 58. It had indeed been like shooting turkeys. The three Japanese carrier formations had been sent fleeing for home with barely thirty-five planes left aboard between them. Adding wrack to ruin, three of the Japanese carriers had also been sunk.

For the Japanese this loss meant that the next battle would have to be fought by surface ships—battleships, cruisers, and destroyers—in tandem with submarines and land-based air. They could expect almost no help from the aircraft carriers and pilots of the once powerful Kido Butai of Pearl Harbor and 1942 fame. However, the remaining surface naval strength had a powerful assortment of torpedoes and heavy guns.

To best use these vessels, Imperial General Headquarters crafted and issued on July 24, 1944, four Sho, or decisive/complete victory plans,² one for each possible Allied invasion site in order of presumed probability. For example, an invasion of the Philippines would be covered by Sho-1 Operation, which laid out the counter-moves to be made by the Japanese naval and land forces the moment an enemy invasion was judged as imminent. Each plan took account of its setting and the strengths and limitations of the forces at hand, and attempted to compensate accordingly. The ensuing battle of Leyte Gulf was the result of the Allied invasion of Leyte island in the Philippines, which triggered Sho-1 and the corresponding Japanese counter-attack on land, sea, and air that attempted to repel or destroy the beachhead before MacArthur’s forces could get a firm foothold. (Readers familiar with the preliminary events to the Allied landing at Leyte Gulf, movement of forces and strategic options and plans of both sides, may now skip directly to chapter 1 if they wish.)

The commander in chief of Combined Fleet, Admiral Soemu Toyoda, codified his general instructions for the conduct of these Sho operations in the first five days of August 1944.

At this time under the umbrella and administrative term Mobile Fleet Japan’s surface forces comprised three main parts—the Third, Second, and Fifth Fleets. This was the structure the navy held at the Marianas. For the coming operations, it would be subdivided into three independent tactical forces with different assignments and areas of operation. In part this resulted from necessity and an inconvenient dividing of the fleet in July. After the Marianas, the Third Fleet and its carriers had to stay in the homeland to train pilots, while the Second Fleet’s battleships and cruisers had been sent 2,500 miles south to Lingga and Singapore to be close to the oil reserves. The Fifth Fleet remained in the Inland Sea as well. Combined Fleet would have preferred to keep its forces all in one integrated unit, but the minimal oil reserves made it impossible to do so in Japan, and Vice Admiral Jisaburo Ozawa’s carriers could not join Kurita at Lingga till they had trained their air groups.³

While in deployment and execution Sho-1 GO was very intricate, with competing zones of authority, its basic outline was logical and startling in its simplicity. Essentially it involved the familiar tactic of a feint attack by a naval force to draw off a large part of the enemy force so that the remainder left behind could be destroyed by another powerful naval force. What made Sho-1 unique was the character of the feinting naval force. Instead of some motley splinter of ships—perhaps of inferior quality—the feint at Sho-1 would be performed by Ozawa’s celebrated Third Fleet (which in operations took on the tactical term of Main Force) with its last readily operational carriers.

From Japan Ozawa would descend with his now frustratingly weak carrier force. It would make up with prestige what it lacked in fighting power to lure Admiral Halsey and his Task Force 38 of four fast carrier groups into the open waters north of Luzon. Ozawa’s flagship, Zuikaku—last survivor of the six carriers that hit Pearl Harbor, steamed with Zuiho, whose planes had helped destroy Hornet at Santa Cruz, and Chitose and Chiyoda, present at the Marianas. Rounding the force out were two hybrid carrier battleships, Ise and Hyuga, whose after pair of turrets had been replaced by a flight deck for floatplanes, and a cruiser and destroyer screen that included the recent flagship of Combined Fleet, cruiser Oyodo. The Japanese rightly calculated that Halsey’s temperament would find an attack by Japan’s last carrier force and the final surviving culprit of the Pearl Harbor raid, Zuikaku, an irresistible distraction. They realized that Halsey had no way of knowing to what extent Ozawa had reconstituted his air groups and believed he would treat the Mobile Fleet as a significant offensive threat and steam north to stop it. The Japanese knew this would mean the destruction of most if not all of Ozawa’s force, but the gallant admiral and his captains were willing to accept this if it achieved the goal of luring Halsey and drawing him away from MacArthur’s beachhead.

At the same time a massive and powerful surface fleet of seven battleships (including both super-battleships of the Yamato-class), thirteen cruisers, and nineteen destroyers under Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita, which had advanced up to Borneo, would sally forth to the attack. Steaming east, they would pour through the northern approach to Leyte Gulf, San Bernardino Strait, overwhelm any detached force Halsey might have left there, and attack and annihilate the landing forces. If all went well, what warships survived would attempt to escape through the southern route to Leyte Gulf—Surigao Strait—and from thence via the Sulu Sea to safe havens.⁴ The Japanese hoped Kurita would be able to accomplish this mission before Halsey’s forces had time to come dashing back south. Such was the plan when commander in chief of Combined Fleet Admiral Soemu Toyoda got first warning of the invasion of Leyte by urgent dispatch from Suluan island lighthouse at 0709 October 17, reporting allied invasion forces arriving at the mouth of Leyte Gulf. Toyoda acted quickly, only an hour later issuing the Alert for Sho-1 naval forces. Within two hours Toyoda ordered Kurita’s force to depart Lingga for Brunei as planned. The next afternoon he officially gave the execute for Sho-1. By that date, however, key segments of the Sho-1 plan were already in tatters.

The Japanese had forecast the invasion of the Philippines and specifically shaped Sho-1 to deal with it. Nevertheless, a chain of circumstances combined in such a way as to find them off-guard and playing catch-up when the moment finally arrived. The main reason was that the invasion target was initially misinterpreted. On October 10 and continuing for several days there began an onslaught of a truly massive series of hard-hitting strikes from the fast-carriers of Halsey’s U.S. Third Fleet. These strikes pummeled targets in all three of the possible invasion sites dealt with by the Sho plans, ranging from Okinawa to Luzon, and concentrating against Formosa. At times with more than 1,000 aircraft in the air, TF 38’s fliers went after shipping and the massed aircraft of Vice Admiral Shigeru Fukudome’s Second Air Fleet. The attacks were so ferocious that within forty-eight hours Imperial General Headquarters jumped to the understandable but erroneous conclusion that they were the usual Allied aerial assault that precedes invasion. Ergo, the Allies’ next target must be Formosa.

Japanese evaluation of the situation was further complicated by Toyoda’s presence in Formosa on an inspection tour of the southern areas.⁵ The chief of Combined Fleet was partly out of pocket at a critical time and only partially able to keep up with the flurry of messages and decisions resulting from the attacks. Toyoda had explicitly delegated that during his absence any orders or decisions necessary be made from Combined Fleet command at Hiyoshi near Tokyo. These radio dispatch orders were to be issued in his name by chief of staff Rear Admiral Ryunosuke Kusaka. Though Kusaka attempted to keep Toyoda in the picture, the burden of what actions to take had fallen on him. After consulting with both Toyoda and the Navy Section of Imperial Headquarters at 1030 October 12, Kusaka issued the Activation order for air forces assigned for both Sho-2, the defense of Formosa, and Sho-1, the defense of the Philippines. Fatefully, the carrier planes from Ozawa’s fleet were also committed, operating from land bases. Though the surface forcers were not involved yet, and actual landings on Formosa not expected, headquarters deemed it a good time to attempt to destroy several of the U.S. carriers by means of massive counterattack from three directions by land-based air. Toyoda and his staff were convinced that for once, they had the advantage in numbers, and possibly even in surprise. Thus, a good chunk of the available air forces of both army and navy, including the crack T force and Ozawa’s precious nearly trained air groups, went into action against Halsey’s carriers in a wild aerial melee. It proved a colossal blunder.

In the lopsided aerial battles that followed, the Japanese suffered heavily. For the not insignificant cost of eighty-nine of their own, U.S. carrier planes destroyed over five hundred Japanese aircraft and inflicted a disastrous loss. Remarkably, for several days the Japanese were persuaded of the opposite. Given the scale of the air effort, with many of the attacks at dusk or night, the Japanese air crews made wild claims of success, partly from mistaking scores of their own planes burning on the water for stricken enemy ships. The ship claims by the Japanese airmen were egregiously in error; not only had not a single carrier—let alone the eleven claimed—been sunk, but Halsey had only three ships damaged. Hearing the delusional claims of Tokyo Rose announcing all of Admiral Mitscher’s carriers have been sunk tonight—instantly! the wry and amused Halsey was prompted to issue a famous and inspired comeback. He proudly broadcast in the clear to Nimitz, tongue firmly in cheek, Third Fleet’s sunken and damaged ships have been salvaged and are retiring towards the enemy.⁶

Though no ships had been sunk, Halsey’s fleet had not escaped unscathed. In addition to damage to fleet carrier Franklin, escorting cruisers Houston and Canberra had both been torpedoed (on October 13 and 14 respectively) and disabled, with both left under tow. Halsey held two carrier groups beyond the horizon from these cripples in hopes of luring out units of the Japanese fleet. Dubbed Bait Division and Cripple Division 1, these two cruisers were left with their escorts to withdraw and survive follow-up attacks as best they could while TF 38 waited to spring a trap. Halsey’s scheme almost succeeded.

As Halsey had hoped for, a portion of the Imperial Navy in the Inland Sea was indeed dispatched. This was the Second Striking Force (2YB) of Vice Admiral Kiyohide Shima’s Fifth Fleet, whose most recent experience had been in far northern waters out of Parumushiro and only recently attached to Ozawa’s Mobile Fleet. Shima will be one of the major players in the Surigao drama, and his role had its beginning here. Having been ordered to make sortie preparations the afternoon of October 10, the Shima force was ready to sail. Comprising only one light and two heavy cruisers and seven destroyers, and given the likely remaining strength of Halsey’s forces, 2YB was a slender force to be given such an assignment! Nonetheless, Shima set out from the Inland Sea at midnight of the 14th with orders to rescue downed air crews and finish off enemy cripples.⁷ Despite the crushing odds Shima had dutifully gone ahead, and during October 15 he advanced ever deeper into the danger zone of Halsey’s fliers, hoping—albeit skeptically-to come across a damaged carrier or two with light salvage screen.⁸ The absurdity of the second part of his assignment became crystal clear on October 16 as searches revealed the surviving number of enemy carriers. Most of Task Force 38’s strength was intact. Pounced on at 1440 by planes from Bunker Hill, Shima had already figured out this obvious fact for himself, and he commenced a dash north to escape. Reports from his currently detached DesDiv 21 engaging planes at the same time only spurred him on. Shima also had to dodge undersea attack, just avoiding torpedoes fired at him at 2020 by Skate. The attack did cause mischief; for after depth charging the sub, destroyer Hatsuharu lost contact in a squall with Shima, who was under radio silence.⁹ Shima steamed on for cover at Amami-Oshima, arriving at 1630 October 17.

When Shima entered Satsukawa Bay, the Hatsuharu had not managed to rejoin. Since 2YB’s arrival had been unplanned, there was no tanker waiting for him, and Shima had to refuel his smaller ships from his two big heavy cruisers. Light cruiser Abukuma came alongside Nachi to feed, though of the destroyers, Akebono and Ushio managed to scrounge enough from the depot ashore and Shiranuhi and Kasumi did not need to refuel at all. Shima settled down to evaluate the reports coming in about the enemy. He had received standing orders at dusk the evening prior to proceed south to Mako if U.S. carriers were sighted east of Formosa. Since they were, Shima planned to do as bid. 2YB would depart for Mako at 0530 next morning. As for Hatsuharu, he finally heard from it after 2135, and learning its position, concluded it would be easiest if the destroyer simply went on down to Mako on its own.¹⁰ They would all rejoin there.

Ordered the next morning to steam south and await orders at Mako, Pescadores, at 0530 Shima departed. It proved a lively morning and a busy one. First at 0845 Kasumi had to detach and rescue a downed Japanese air crew the force had spotted; then at 1115 Nachi detected a submerged submarine. Ushio immediately launched an attack, dropping two depth charges. The submarine was Sterlet, whose skipper had been trying to close to attack for a half hour when Nachi picked him up. Sterlet was never able to get any closer than 8,000 yards, but then again, neither could Ushio. To the sub the destroyer seemingly had just tossed its ash-cans wherever that felt right. Sterlet’s log wryly noted they heard only one depth charge and that one far away.¹¹ Rounding out the busy morning was a welcome arrival at noon: the force’s orphan Hatsuharu had relocated them and hastened to approach. Yet no sooner had it done so than Shima sent it away again. Since Hatsuharu had failed to refuel because of its wanderings, he ordered it to sprint on ahead to Mako to do so and to pass on Shima’s needs to the base authorities, thus killing two birds with one stone.

But while still en route to Mako at 1455 Shima received disconcerting new orders from Kusaka that had been dispatched four hours prior. Designed to somewhat cover for the loss of face of the abortive mop-up mission, these orders gave Shima’s fleet a new task that took him in the direction he was already headed. His force was detached from Ozawa’s Main Force and placed under the jurisdiction of Vice Admiral Gunichi Mikawa in Manila, chief of Southwest Area Fleet. Another unit, Vice Admiral Naomasa Sakonjo’s Cruiser Division 16, presently with Kurita, was added to augment Shima’s strength.¹² Shima was instructed to put in at Takao instead of Mako and after refueling to proceed speedily to Manila, where Sakonjo’s Cruiser Division 16 would join him from Brunei. Shima’s expanded force would serve as the backbone of planned counter-landing operations on Leyte.¹³ Counter-landing was a Japanese euphemism for troops rushed to offset an enemy invasion either directly or by means of a flanking maneuver. That Shima was far from enthused with the task is clear given the lengths he would go to get it set aside in favor of attacking in Leyte Gulf. Thus began the perplexing flutter of orders and debate over deployment that would bedevil Vice Admiral Shima throughout the coming surface battle.

That climatic surface battle was now at hand, for as related, at 0719 October 17 the Suluan island lookout station sent their urgent warning from Leyte Gulf. Just an hour later the overwhelmed garrison sent their last message and then went off the air for good. But their warning had accomplished its object, and Combined Fleet’s command circuits were soon crackling with dispatches and orders for the whole region.

Acting quickly, Toyoda at 0908 first announced to Ozawa that a large-scale enemy landing in the central or south Philippines was at hand and that he should ready his Main Force carriers to speed preparations for sortie from the Inland Sea to carry out its pre-assigned task of luring enemy carriers and diverting them north. Twenty minutes later, he ordered the intended beneficiary of that diversion, Kurita’s First Striking Force, to sortie immediately for Brunei. Finally, the third detached element of the Mobile Fleet, Shima, was already headed toward Mako and would be in the right position for new orders. By noon October 17, Combined Fleet had dispatched the necessary directives setting in motion all the major components of the surface elements of Sho-1.

At that hour Toyoda’s chief of staff issued his directive for the coming execution of Sho-1 as he envisaged it at that moment. He announced that the enemy was about to make a landing in the Samar-Leyte area, and it is estimated, at the present moment, that the First Striking Force will be able to carry out its penetration [of Leyte Gulf] just before dawn on October 22, and that the Main Force, acting in support would depart next morning (October 19) and would advance to the waters east of Luzon Strait by dusk two days later. If all went well, Ozawa would lure Halsey’s carriers north that evening, and the next morning Kurita would fall upon MacArthur’s transports and destroy the nascent beachhead.¹⁴

It looked good on paper, but Toyoda and his staff were all too aware of the plan’s Achilles’ heel. Because of the calamitous mistake of committing the carefully conserved air forces, including the bulk of Ozawa’s carrier planes, to the massive Formosa air struggle, Sho-1 had to proceed with one of its major components—land-based air—reduced to a hollow shell. Barely enough aircraft remained to fulfill the intended anti-shipping role for the air forces. As a result, the Japanese fleets involved would have to advance with almost no air cover. While during the operation Fukudome’s Second Air Fleet as well as what Ozawa’s carriers could launch would be attacking Halsey east of the Philippines, losses precluded this extending to any actual cover over Kurita while west of the Philippines. Worse, the squandering of the nearly trained air groups that Ozawa had at his disposal up to October 12 took much of the punch out of his intended strike on Halsey’s flank. Though it did not change the role assigned to Ozawa, he would now have to perform it almost entirely dependent on enticing Halsey by sighting alone. He no longer had the hitting power to force Halsey to confront him. This factor would have cascading consequences for the roles assigned to Kurita’s ships as well, especially how they might be detached and separated if Kurita judged it necessary.

Sho-1 began to further unravel almost immediately. Fifteen minutes after noon Kurita radioed that he would sortie from Lingga at 0100 the following morning, October 18, and making an average speed of 16 knots would advance along evasive routes to arrive at Brunei on October 20. Since Kurita had requested two oilers to advance to Brunei for arrival only on the 21st, the desired attack in Leyte Gulf at dawn October 22 was not going to happen. X-Day, the date of the attack, would have to be postponed accordingly. Yet each day lost gave more time for MacArthur to establish a foothold and unload his troops once he landed.¹⁵

Ozawa was delayed as well. He had to re-embark some aircraft to have a semblance of fighting power. Toyoda ordered that planes of the 653rd Air Group that had not yet been transferred away from Japan, as well as any carrier-ready aircraft of Air Group 601, be reassigned to the Main Force.¹⁶ The loading and transfers would take some time, and Ozawa announced he could not make the 0600 departure time on the 19th; the afternoon of October 20 was the best he could do. This latter date was the same day Kurita was due at Brunei. The plan was lagging behind schedule. Not until after the sun went down did Toyoda hear from Kurita a definite timetable. Depending on speed chosen for the advance, First Striking Force upon departing Brunei the morning of October 22 could pass through San Bernardino Strait into the waters north of Samar by morning or evening two days later. Hence, X-Day hour could come no earlier than October 24 at the soonest. Since no tankers were in position for the second refueling Kurita’s destroyers would need after leaving Brunei if he made a high-speed thrust, the earliest possible day for a dawn attack was in reality October 25.

Toyoda elected to remain at Shinchiku, Formosa, and spent the night of October 17–18 in suspense and some frustration, as he waited for the picture to develop. He was pleased to hear that Kurita’s First Striking Force had duly sortied on time, departing in a massive column from Lingga for Borneo an hour after midnight as scheduled. Though he was now reasonably sure of his own forces’ timetables, he still had no definite proof that the Suluan lighthouse action was the prelude to an enemy landing in Leyte Gulf, since there had been no immediate follow-up by the Allies; until he was sure, he could not rule out a feint while MacArthur hit elsewhere, possibly invading Mindanao. Only slightly less important was guessing when the moment would come. In his original estimate Toyoda had expected around October 21 or 22 and had planned accordingly, only to learn Kurita could not enter Leyte Gulf by dawn of the 22nd. The soonest Kurita could attack at dawn was three days after that. Yet before Toyoda could even presume to set X-Day he needed verification of the enemy’s intentions and strength. MacArthur was definitely about to land, no question, but where?

About an hour before noon October 18 Toyoda felt he had sufficient reports to risk the downtime and start his flight back to Hiyoshi and Combined Fleet HQ. He bitterly regretted his nearly twenty-day absence and the singularly unfortunate timing of his inspection tour. Toyoda wanted to get back to Tokyo and start making all the key decisions with his full resources and staff at hand. As he headed back, his chief of staff continued to issue orders and even revisions in his name. Toyoda had just taken to the air for Kyushu when, as noted above, Kusaka radioed Shima’s Mako-bound fleet and told him that 2YB had been assigned to Southwest Area Fleet and was, after refueling in Formosa, to proceed immediately to Manila. Kusaka also attached Cruiser Division 16 to Shima’s command.

The abrupt change in assignment had been prompted by the fluid situation and by the increasing expectation that the Japanese Army would soon need some ships to make Tokyo Express runs of reinforcements to Leyte and other islands in the central Philippines. With so many warships tied up in the preliminaries of Sho-1 unfolding, some should be reserved before they became otherwise committed. Shima’s ships were chosen for a constellation of reasons. One, Imperial General Headquarters had issued an outline of Sho preparations that insisted on a prompt counterattack trooping reinforcement to be carried out in a timely fashion once the enemy’s beachhead became known. As recently as October 8 this memo had been reissued and specified that the ships so assigned would likely be Cruiser Divisions 16 and 21 with Desron 1¹⁷—in other words, exactly the composition Shima now found under his authority come midday of October 18. A second reason was that many at Hiyoshi headquarters felt 2YB was of too modest strength to make much difference in the Sho plans, and to some extent the overworked staffs simply neglected Shima. A third reason was of a more backroom nature. The navy general staff had been pressuring the army to abandon its current intention to sacrifice Leyte if necessary and wait to fight the decisive land battle on Luzon. The navy wanted both arms to make an all-out effort now, at Leyte. One way to do this was to place a group of ships at the army’s disposal for reinforcement runs to Leyte while strongly urging that action. An elaborate hint, or lever, as it were, to make Navy Section’s point.

Using a surface force as bargaining chip or point of coercion was a dubious way to seek to modify a plan as already fixed and laid-out as Sho-1. In the circumstances, the haggling with Army Section that Kusaka initiated over Shima’s force made little sense, however much it might have fulfilled the letter of some previous outlines. Clearly the immediate and most overriding objective was to inflict a decisive victory over the Allied landing and support forces, and needlessly weakening either Ozawa’s Main Force or Kurita’s First Striking Force in any way was unsound. Four Matsu-class destroyers, new, but of slower speed and shorter range than others, had to be assigned to take Shima’s place in screening Ozawa’s fleet.

The afternoon of October 18 the disposition and proper use of Shima’s small cruiser force was the least of Combined Fleet’s concerns. After giving the order reassigning Shima to Mikawa in Manila, at 1110 Kusaka—again speaking in Toyoda’s name—at last advised the staffs of all involved commands of the tentative new outline of operations.¹⁸ Due to inclement weather and logistical factors no contacts whatsoever had been made on any Allied invasion forces of consequence [warships excluded], except perhaps the limited forces engaged in the Suluan, Dinagat and Homonhon [island] operations,¹⁹ but Toyoda and Kusaka remained (correctly) convinced that a landing at Leyte Gulf was mere days away. Given that stipulation, Combined Fleet’s working plan for future operations was as follows:

(a) Kurita’s First Striking Force (1YB) would advance from Brunei through San Bernardino Strait and

Reviews for Battle of Surigao Strait

[shrike58 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Written by one of the proprietors of the estimable "Imperial Japanese Navy Page" on the Web, Tully weaves together previously unused information to truly revolutionize our understanding of history's last great naval surface action. The key point is that Vice Admiral Nishimura's reinforced division of old battleships was not a pointless afterthought, but a brave attempt to further draw American forces away from the Japanese main force that was supposed to savage the American invasion force off Leyte, and which essentially worked.