The Twilight Warriors Part 15

24

A RIDGE CALLED KAKAZU A RIDGE CALLED KAKAZU HAGUSHI ANCHORAGE, OKINAWA

APRIL 7, 1945

The honeymoon was over.

To Lt. Gen. Simon Buckner, the report came as no surprise. It was the news he'd been expecting since Love Day. He no longer had to wonder where the j.a.panese were. His Tenth Army had found them, and they were putting up a h.e.l.l of a fight.

In the south of the island, XXIV Corps had slammed into the enemy line drawn across the narrow isthmus leading to the southern peninsula of Chinen. The heavily fortified line was protected by pillboxes with steel doors impervious to the new weapon introduced at Iwo Jima, flamethrowers.

Meanwhile in the north, the 6th Marine Division had moved so fast up the isthmus that their supporting artillery had trouble keeping up. Eight days after the Love Day amphibious landings, Marines were standing on the rocky outcropping of Hedo Misaki, the northern tip of Okinawa. Their last objective was Motobu Peninsula, a k.n.o.b-shaped protuberance on the northwest coast of Okinawa where the j.a.panese had constructed a fortified line of defense.

Though Buckner still kept his command post aboard Turner's flagship Eldorado Eldorado, he spent most of each day ash.o.r.e conferring with his commanders, Marine major general Roy Geiger and Army major general John Hodge. The Eldorado Eldorado still afforded the best communications with Spruance and Mitscher, as well as with the units driving in opposite directions on the island. still afforded the best communications with Spruance and Mitscher, as well as with the units driving in opposite directions on the island.

What did did surprise Buckner and his division commanders was the j.a.panese artillery. Effective artillery support had been an Achilles' heel of the j.a.panese army during most of the previous island battles. Here at Okinawa, the j.a.panese 32nd Army had the heaviest concentration of field guns of any battle in the Pacific war, and it was clear that they had learned how to use them. A steady barrage of sh.e.l.ls was descending on the U.S. XXIV Corps as they approached the high ground near Shuri. In a single twenty-four-hour session, fourteen thousand j.a.panese sh.e.l.ls rained down on the Americans. surprise Buckner and his division commanders was the j.a.panese artillery. Effective artillery support had been an Achilles' heel of the j.a.panese army during most of the previous island battles. Here at Okinawa, the j.a.panese 32nd Army had the heaviest concentration of field guns of any battle in the Pacific war, and it was clear that they had learned how to use them. A steady barrage of sh.e.l.ls was descending on the U.S. XXIV Corps as they approached the high ground near Shuri. In a single twenty-four-hour session, fourteen thousand j.a.panese sh.e.l.ls rained down on the Americans.

Though casualties were light, the barrage had the effect of halting the U.S. advance. The j.a.panese guns were well enough concealed that even the big shipboard batteries offsh.o.r.e hadn't been able to silence them.

The soldiers and Marines in the front line were finding Okinawa to be a strange and disconcerting battleground. No other island battle had been fought in the presence of so many civilians. Most of the population was crammed into the south, and their villages were now combat zones. Most young Okinawan men had been conscripted into the local j.a.panese defense force. The remaining elders, women, and children were terrified of the Americans, having been told by the j.a.panese that the invaders would murder and rape.

Wary GIs, for their part, were unsure whether the Okinawans were hostile or not. Mistakes were made, and tragedies happened with numbing suddenness. Civilians were mowed down in deadly cross fire. Mortar sh.e.l.ls were lobbed onto huts and other dwellings occupied by natives. Soldiers hurled grenades into caves and tunnels only to find inside the shattered bodies of women and children.

One of the men slogging across the island was war correspondent Ernie Pyle. Pyle had spent the first two days of the invasion with the headquarters of a Marine regiment, then joined an infantry company, moving with the grunts into the shattered countryside of Okinawa.

This was where Pyle was most comfortable, in the company of the foot soldiers, young GIs from the heartland of America with whom he shared foxholes, rations, and the danger of combat. When they called him "sir" or "Mr. Pyle," he corrected them: the name was Ernie.

Pyle listened to their stories and wrote about what happened to them. "I was back again at the kind of life I had known so long," he wrote in a dispatch. "It was the old familiar pattern, unchanged by distance or time...a pattern so imbedded in my soul that it seemed I'd never known anything else in my life."

Lt. Gen. Mitsuru Ushijima peered through his field gla.s.ses at the oncoming Americans. From Ushijima's observation point at Shuri Castle, the enemy looked like ants, moving in long columns, pausing every few hundred yards to reconnoiter and await their support vehicles.

Ushijima's staff had come up with a battle slogan to bolster the spirits of the j.a.panese 32nd Army at Okinawa: One plane for one warship.One boat for one ship.

One man for ten of the enemy or one tank.

For sure, the Americans would be protected by tanks. The trick was to separate the troops from their tanks, first with artillery, then at close range with special teams of tank-killers who would throw satchel charges and bundles of flaming rags beneath the armored vehicles. As tank crewmen tried to escape their burning vehicles, they would be shot or bayoneted. Without the covering fire of the tanks, the troops a.s.saulting the slopes would be exposed and annihilated.

Ushijima knew that his garrison ultimately could not prevail over the Americans, but he didn't intend to waste the lives of his soldiers for nothing. He counseled his soldiers, "Do your utmost. The victory of the century lies in this battle."

In preparation for the ma.s.sive bombardment that was surely coming, Ushijima had ordered the construction of a labyrinth of tunnels and underground s.p.a.ces, some large enough to contain an entire company of infantry. For his own headquarters, a 150-foot-long tunnel was burrowed beneath Shuri Castle. This subterranean network allowed Ushijima to move troops where they were most urgently needed, and it afforded protection from the incessant pounding of ship and field gunfire.

The approaches to the hills were seeded with land mines and tank traps. At the foot of the slopes were trenches for machine gunners and mortar batteries. Further up were heavier machine gun nests, and on the reverse slopes more mortars and light artillery. Spotters were positioned on the high ground to call in artillery fire from Ushijima's big guns to the south of the lines.

At least that was the plan. Not until April 9 would Ushijima's plan be put to a test. That was the day the U.S. 96th Infantry Division arrived at a 1,000-yard-long outcropping on the western flank called Kakazu Ridge.

Col. Ed May, commander of the 383rd Regiment, studied the features of the pocked terrain 1,200 yards away. Kakazu Ridge didn't look all that formidable. It rose only about 300 feet and wasn't particularly steep. May's regiment was part of the 96th Division, which had just come to a grinding halt against the j.a.panese line. Taking the ridge would put the division in position to a.s.sault the more formidable objective, the Urasoe-Mura escarpment, about a thousand yards further south of Kakazu.

It looked to May as if he could take it with no more than four rifle companies. He'd keep two more in reserve and back them up with another full battalion. The only obstacle would be the deep gorge that ran the full length of the base of the ridge. The gorge was a natural tank trap, filled with trees and brush, which meant that May's troops would make the a.s.sault without covering armor.

Still not a problem, May concluded. Attacking before first light, they'd have the advantage of surprise, particularly if they went without preliminary artillery bombardment or air strikes. It would be a cla.s.sic frontal a.s.sault, quick and efficient. May wasn't worried.

He should have been. Even through the lenses of his high-resolution binoculars, May wasn't seeing the true picture. What neither he nor the XXIV Corps commander, Maj. Gen. John Hodge, realized was that Kakazu Ridge and the adjoining hill, called Kakazu West, were honeycombed with tunnels and fortifications. An intricate network of overlapping mortar and artillery was buried in concrete-fortified positions, all part of the extensive underground defenses the 32nd Army commander, Lt. Gen. Ushijima, had ordered to be constructed weeks before the invasion. The reverse slopes of Kakazu Ridge were festooned with gun emplacements and tunnels that concealed the battle-toughened j.a.panese 13th Independent Infantry Battalion.

But Ed May was an optimistic-and ambitious-soldier. With the American advance halted against the j.a.panese line, May and his regiment would be the first to crack a key sector in the line. It was an opportunity he couldn't resist.

May launched the a.s.sault before dawn on April 9. Still in darkness, two rifle companies stormed up the slope of Kakazu Ridge, and two more ascended Kakazu West. Their only opposition was a few sentries, who were quickly bayoneted. As the first light of dawn hit the slope, May's troops were on both crests.

There was no time to celebrate. Almost immediately the length of the ridge erupted in a thunderous artillery barrage. A wave of j.a.panese soldiers emerged from tunnels and spider holes, charging directly through their own artillery fire. The newly arrived Americans found themselves in desperate hand-to-hand combat. Falling back to pockets, saddlebacks, and gullies, they tried to fight off the j.a.panese. Reinforcements headed up the hill but were pinned down by enfilading j.a.panese fire. Company commanders radioed urgent requests for covering fire so they could withdraw.

Colonel May wasn't ready to give up the high ground he had just won. Worried that he'd lose more men in a withdrawal, he gave the order to "hold the ridge at all costs." The fight dragged on into the afternoon. One by one, May's company officers were killed or wounded. Finally, beneath an artillery barrage and the smoke from a chemical-mortar battery, the battered soldiers made an agonizing retreat from Kakazu Ridge.

It was during the withdrawal that a twenty-three-year-old private first cla.s.s named Ed Moskala earned the regiment's first Medal of Honor-posthumously. Moskala wiped out two enemy machine gun nests on the crest of the ridge. Fighting a rearguard action while his unit withdrew, the young soldier mowed down two dozen j.a.panese attackers. He returned to the crest of the ridge to drag wounded men back, then went back for more. On his second trip, he was cut down by machine gun fire.

The failed mission cost the 383rd Regiment 326 casualties. The next day, April 10, the unit was joined by the 381st Regiment in another a.s.sault on the ridge. This attack was preceded by heavy air strikes, an artillery barrage, and a bombardment by the heavy guns of the battleship New York New York.

None of it dislodged the j.a.panese. From the reverse slope of Kakazu Ridge, mortar sh.e.l.ls continued to rain down on the advancing Americans, sometimes at the rate of one a second. The American commanders were perplexed. None had ever before seen the j.a.panese employ mortar and artillery with such deadly accuracy. The bitter battle lasted all that day and into the next until, once again, the bloodied American troops were forced to withdraw.

It was the same story up and down the line. The 96th Division was stalemated on the western end of Kakazu Ridge, and the Army 7th Division was making no better progress to the east. The j.a.panese defensive positions seemed impregnable to the heaviest naval bombardment or to the bombs and rockets of the close air support aircraft from the carriers.

One of the kikusui kikusui No. 1 pilots was an enlisted flight petty officer named Sata Omaichi. Before Omaichi had reached his target, his Mitsubishi JM2 "Jack" fighter was intercepted and shot down by a h.e.l.lcat fighter from the No. 1 pilots was an enlisted flight petty officer named Sata Omaichi. Before Omaichi had reached his target, his Mitsubishi JM2 "Jack" fighter was intercepted and shot down by a h.e.l.lcat fighter from the Hornet Hornet.

Omaichi, however, was not bent on suicide. After he ditched his stricken fighter, he was taken prisoner aboard the destroyer Taussig Taussig. Interrogators learned from the garrulous pilot that the next ma.s.sed attack-kikusui No. 2-was set for April 11. This one, Omaichi boasted, would be the most intense attack ever and would wipe out the American fleet. No. 2-was set for April 11. This one, Omaichi boasted, would be the most intense attack ever and would wipe out the American fleet.

It was valuable information. Combined with intercepted messages from Admiral Ugaki's headquarters at Kanoya, it was enough to persuade Mitscher and Spruance to suspend ground attack missions over Okinawa on April 11. Mitscher ordered all his dive-bombers and torpedo planes defueled, disarmed, and parked on hangar decks. CAP coverage would be increased over the picket ships and the carrier task groups.

Then came the rain. Squalls and low visibility shut down air operations for both the j.a.panese and Americans. As the weather cleared on April 11, the kamikazes came out, but not in great numbers. It seemed to be a patchwork attack, with the apparent purpose of keeping pressure on the American fleet. Of the swarm of tokko tokko aircraft sent southward, only a few reached their targets. aircraft sent southward, only a few reached their targets.

One was a Zero that threaded its way through the storm of fire thrown up by the carriers and escorts of Task Group 58.4. Skimming low on the water, the Zero swept in on the stern of the Missouri Missouri, aiming for what was considered the battleship's most vulnerable spot-the bridge. Instead, the kamikaze plowed into the rail of the starboard gun deck, shearing off the port wing and cart wheeling forward to crash behind a gun mount. Flames and debris showered Missouri Missouri's deck, but the fires were quickly extinguished.

The Missouri Missouri had been lucky. The kamikaze's bomb didn't explode. The only real damage to the heavily armored battleship was a dented rail and scorched paint, and the only casualty was the kamikaze pilot, whose remains were found among the wreckage. He appeared to be a young man of eighteen or nineteen years of age. had been lucky. The kamikaze's bomb didn't explode. The only real damage to the heavily armored battleship was a dented rail and scorched paint, and the only casualty was the kamikaze pilot, whose remains were found among the wreckage. He appeared to be a young man of eighteen or nineteen years of age.

The next morning Chaplain Roland Faulk conducted a funeral service for the dead j.a.panese. The service angered several of Missouri Missouri's crew, who didn't think he ought to be rendering military honors to a deceased enemy.

Faulk went ahead with the funeral. "A dead j.a.p," the chaplain declared, "is no longer an enemy."

25

OHKA OHKA KANOYA AIR BASE, KYUSHU

APRIL 12, 1945

Vice Adm. Matome Ugaki was frustrated. Kikusui Kikusui No. 2 was behind schedule. He had been stymied first by the dismal weather, then by the lack of success his search planes had in locating the enemy carriers. No. 2 was behind schedule. He had been stymied first by the dismal weather, then by the lack of success his search planes had in locating the enemy carriers.

By dawn on April 12, Ugaki thought he had a clear picture of the enemy's disposition. Reconnaissance planes had located the American carrier force 60 to 80 miles east of the northern tip of Okinawa.

Ugaki had a special hatred for the American aircraft carriers. In one battle after another since the war began, he had seen the balance of the war tilting against j.a.pan. He blamed it on the carriers. "I want to wipe them out by any means," he wrote in his diary.

Though his tokko tokko warriors hadn't scored great successes yet against the enemy carriers, Ugaki believed they had caused significant damage to the enemy's heavy surface ships. According to the action reports, the attacks of April 68- warriors hadn't scored great successes yet against the enemy carriers, Ugaki believed they had caused significant damage to the enemy's heavy surface ships. According to the action reports, the attacks of April 68-kikusui No. 1-had sunk or seriously damaged sixty-nine American ships. These supposedly included two battleships, three cruisers, and three destroyers. No. 1-had sunk or seriously damaged sixty-nine American ships. These supposedly included two battleships, three cruisers, and three destroyers.

The j.a.panese estimates were wildly off the mark. In total, twenty-eight American ships had been hit, eight of them sunk. Two were the destroyers Bush Bush and and Colhoun Colhoun, and five others-Leutze, Morris, Mullany, Newcomb, and Bennett Bennett-had taken such damage that they were out of the war. They were serious losses, but of no real consequence to the operating strength of the Fifth Fleet.

What worried Ugaki now was a recent report from Okinawa. Spotters had counted as many as 130 enemy fighters, mostly F4U Corsairs, based at the two captured airfields, Yontan and Kadena. Being so close to the anchorages at Okinawa, the sh.o.r.e-based fighters posed an even more serious threat to the tokko tokko raiders than the American carrier-based planes. Ugaki ordered that the two airfields on Okinawa receive special attention from the next wave of raiders than the American carrier-based planes. Ugaki ordered that the two airfields on Okinawa receive special attention from the next wave of tokkotai tokkotai.

Kikusui No. 2 finally took to the air in the late morning of April 12. For this ma.s.sed attack, Ugaki had a.s.sembled 185 No. 2 finally took to the air in the late morning of April 12. For this ma.s.sed attack, Ugaki had a.s.sembled 185 tokko tokko aircraft, 150 fighters, and 45 torpedo planes. aircraft, 150 fighters, and 45 torpedo planes.

First went the fighters, taking off in twenty-four-plane waves throughout the morning. Their mission would be to engage the enemy air patrols guarding the carriers and the anchorages at Okinawa. At midday, 129 more warplanes roared down the runway at Kanoya. Eight were Mitsubishi Betty bombers carrying Ohka Ohka rocket-boosted, human-guided missiles. rocket-boosted, human-guided missiles.

As wave after wave of warplanes headed toward their targets, Ugaki again settled himself in his command post to await the reports. As usual, he entered his trancelike state while the excited voices of men in the last minutes of their lives crackled over the speaker: "Stand by for the release of Ohka." Ohka." Then, "Release-hit a battleship." Finally, "One battleship sunk." Then, "Release-hit a battleship." Finally, "One battleship sunk."

Battleship? Listening to the terse radio transmissions, Matome Ugaki could barely contain his excitement. Could the reports be true? Listening to the terse radio transmissions, Matome Ugaki could barely contain his excitement. Could the reports be true?

The reports weren't true. Of the three battleships under attack by kamikazes-New Mexico, Idaho, and Tennessee Tennessee-none had been sunk. On Turner's order, Rear Adm. Mort Deyo had moved his entire beach gunfire force-ten battlewagons, seven cruisers, and twelve destroyers-out to what was being called "Kamikaze Gulch," the open triangle of ocean bounded by Ie Shima, the Kerama Retto, and the sh.o.r.e of Okinawa. Once on station, Deyo arranged his ships in air defense formation to await the kamikazes.

The first wave showed up in the early afternoon. Once again, they homed in on the northern picket station, RP1. The veteran picket destroyer Ca.s.sin Young Ca.s.sin Young's luck ran out when a Val dive-bomber slithered through the hail of gunfire and slammed into her, knocking out the vital radar, damaging the fire room, and causing sixty casualties.

More kamikazes sank one of Ca.s.sin Young Ca.s.sin Young's supporting gunboats, LCS-33, and knocked another out of action. Yet another kamikaze, chased by three CAP fighters, crashed alongside USS Purdy Purdy, a picket destroyer, knocking out her steering.

In the s.p.a.ce of a few fiery minutes, the kamikazes had put every ship on RP1 out of action. Not for long, however. Two more destroyers, Stanly Stanly and and Lang Lang, were already racing across Kamikaze Gulch to take up duty at the critical RP1.

They, too, would be met by kamikazes. Among them were the Thunder G.o.ds-the Ohka Ohka pilots from Kanoya's pilots from Kanoya's Jinrai Butai Jinrai Butai.

Lt. (jg) Saburo Dohi, like the other young Thunder G.o.ds, had lived with the knowledge that he could be called to sortie at any moment. Dohi was from Osaka and was a graduate of the public school system. For the previous two weeks, the young officer had kept himself occupied improving the living quarters of his fellow Ohka Ohka pilots. They were billeted in an ancient primary school building with holes in the roof and windows broken out from air raids. Dohi and a group of junior pilots mopped floors, patched holes, and acquired straw mats and bamboo beds for the incoming airmen. Until the day came when they departed on their missions, they would have decent beds and quarters to sleep in. pilots. They were billeted in an ancient primary school building with holes in the roof and windows broken out from air raids. Dohi and a group of junior pilots mopped floors, patched holes, and acquired straw mats and bamboo beds for the incoming airmen. Until the day came when they departed on their missions, they would have decent beds and quarters to sleep in.

For Saburo Dohi, that day, April 12, had come. He had been a.s.signed as one of the eight Thunder G.o.ds making Ohka Ohka human-guided bomb attacks against the U.S. fleet. human-guided bomb attacks against the U.S. fleet.

As the Ohka Ohka-carrying Betty bombers lumbered through the sky toward Okinawa, they spread out, each taking a different route to the targets. The bitter lesson from the sixteen-ship Ohka Ohka attack of March 21 had been that, in a ma.s.sed formation, the overloaded Bettys were like a flock of geese: easy to find, easy to kill. Every one of the bombers had been gunned down by American fighters. attack of March 21 had been that, in a ma.s.sed formation, the overloaded Bettys were like a flock of geese: easy to find, easy to kill. Every one of the bombers had been gunned down by American fighters.

If Dohi had any trepidation about that day's mission, it didn't show. While the bomber droned southward, the young pilot dozed on a makeshift cot until they were within range of American ships. Then, with great formality, Dohi tied his ceremonial white hachimaki hachimaki over his forehead. He shook hands with the aircraft commander, then climbed down through the bomb bay to the c.o.c.kpit of the over his forehead. He shook hands with the aircraft commander, then climbed down through the bomb bay to the c.o.c.kpit of the Ohka Ohka. Over the voice tube connection to the Betty crew, he announced that he was ready.

The explosive charge that was supposed to release the Ohka Ohka failed. The failed. The Ohka Ohka was still fastened to the mother ship. For another perilous minute, while the bomber flew into the jaws of the enemy fleet, Dohi waited in the c.o.c.kpit of his rocket ship. was still fastened to the mother ship. For another perilous minute, while the bomber flew into the jaws of the enemy fleet, Dohi waited in the c.o.c.kpit of his rocket ship.

Finally a crewman yanked the manual release. The Ohka Ohka dropped away from the mother ship. Suspended by its tiny wings, the craft plunged earthward from 19,000 feet. dropped away from the mother ship. Suspended by its tiny wings, the craft plunged earthward from 19,000 feet.

Peering through the flat front gla.s.s of his windshield, Saburo Dohi selected his target-a gray object four miles in the distance. The enemy warship appeared to be dead in the water. Nearing the target, Dohi ignited the three rocket boosters. The Ohka Ohka shot ahead, accelerating to nearly 600 miles per hour. shot ahead, accelerating to nearly 600 miles per hour.

The destroyer Mannert L. Abele Mannert L. Abele was already in trouble. On station at RP14, she had just been crashed by a Zero kamikaze plane. The explosion destroyed the engine room, broke both propeller shafts, and broke the ship's keel. Now, while was already in trouble. On station at RP14, she had just been crashed by a Zero kamikaze plane. The explosion destroyed the engine room, broke both propeller shafts, and broke the ship's keel. Now, while Abele Abele's crew was struggling to save the ship, antiaircraft gunners picked up another incoming object.

It wasn't another Zero. This was something tiny, moving at high speed, slanting down toward the stationary destroyer. It didn't look like anything they'd ever seen before. Before Abele Abele's gunners could track the kamikaze-or whatever the thing was-it was too late. The object crashed into Abele Abele's hull just below her number one stack.

For the Mannert L. Abele Mannert L. Abele, it was instant death. The explosion blew the destroyer in half. Within seconds both pieces of the shattered destroyer sank, taking eighty men to their deaths.

Abele had just earned a singular distinction: she was the first warship to be sunk by the mysterious new had just earned a singular distinction: she was the first warship to be sunk by the mysterious new Ohka Ohka human-guided bomb. And Saburo Dohi had also earned a place in history: he was the first of the Thunder G.o.ds to sink a major enemy warship. human-guided bomb. And Saburo Dohi had also earned a place in history: he was the first of the Thunder G.o.ds to sink a major enemy warship.

Dohi would not be alone. In the sky over the other picket stations, his fellow Thunder G.o.ds were making their own final flights.

What the h.e.l.l is that?

None of the gunners on the picket destroyer USS Stanly Stanly had ever seen such a thing. The low-flying object looked like an aerial torpedo, hurtling at bullet speed across the water. had ever seen such a thing. The low-flying object looked like an aerial torpedo, hurtling at bullet speed across the water. Stanly Stanly's gunners weren't able to touch it.

Before anyone could react, the object slammed into Stanly Stanly's hull, hitting with such velocity that it pa.s.sed completely through the destroyer's thin steel hull, not exploding until it had exited on the other side. The destroyer's bow was punctured and wrinkled, but the ship was still operational.

Before Stanly Stanly's crew had recovered from the shock of the first attack, another of the weird objects appeared. This one was coming just as fast, low on the water, and it looked as if the pilot couldn't control it. Porpoising up and down, the craft skimmed over the destroyer's bow without making contact. The tiny craft went into a hard left turn and was trying to set up for another pa.s.s at the destroyer when the gunners finally found the mark. The object exploded into the water slightly more than a mile off Stanly Stanly's port side.

Stanly had been lucky, but the destroyer had been lucky, but the destroyer Lang Lang, which had joined Stanly Stanly for mutual fire support, was even luckier. for mutual fire support, was even luckier. Lang Lang's gunners had been busy blazing away at incoming enemy planes, flaming a Val that had attempted a bombing run, when they saw a blur of motion 500 yards to their port. Before they could react, the sleek, fast-moving object crashed into the ocean.

Minutes later, it happened again. Another blurry object just like the first one came zooming in. The high-speed craft went into a violent porpoising movement and crashed into the ocean off the port bow.

The tin can crews were mystified. Whatever the strange new aircraft were, they were apparently difficult to control at such speed. Both pilots had missed their targets.

Another lucky ship was the destroyer Jeffers Jeffers, which had been ordered to RP14 to a.s.sist the stricken Abele Abele. Unlike the previous crews, the men aboard Jeffers Jeffers spotted the peculiar, stubby-winged aircraft while it was being launched from a Betty bomber high overhead. Watching the tiny craft gaining speed, they realized that spotted the peculiar, stubby-winged aircraft while it was being launched from a Betty bomber high overhead. Watching the tiny craft gaining speed, they realized that Jeffers Jeffers was its target. was its target.

Every antiaircraft gun on the destroyer opened as the guided bomb came at them, trailing a plume of smoke. Some of the gunfire appeared to hit the rocket ship, but it kept coming. At the last moment, Jeffers Jeffers's skipper gave the tin can hard left rudder.

It was enough to throw off the Ohka Ohka pilot's aim. The missile smacked the water fifty yards off pilot's aim. The missile smacked the water fifty yards off Jeffers Jeffers's port rail, then ricocheted into the destroyer's starboard quarter without exploding. By a miracle Jeffers Jeffers escaped with only slight damage. escaped with only slight damage.

It was the Americans' first close encounter with the Ohka. Stanly Ohka. Stanly's skipper, Cmdr. R. S. Harlan, reported, "From the sc.r.a.ps of the jet-propelled plane that were left on board, we observed that they are constructed largely of plywood and balsa, with a very small amount of metal, most of that being extremely light aluminum."

Intelligence officers were already piecing together the parts of the puzzle. An example of the piloted bomb had been captured intact a few days ago at Yontan airfield on Okinawa, with a cherry blossom emblem on its nose. Intercepted j.a.panese message traffic referred to an operation involving bombers "equipped for cherry blossom attacks."

The Ohka Ohka quickly received an American code name- quickly received an American code name-baka. In j.a.panese it meant "idiot."

Late that afternoon, April 12, the Betty bomber that had carried Saburo Dohi's Ohka Ohka thumped back down on the runway at Kanoya after a nearly six-hour round trip. The Betty was the only survivor of the eight thumped back down on the runway at Kanoya after a nearly six-hour round trip. The Betty was the only survivor of the eight Ohka Ohka-carrying mother ships that had departed at midday. One never made it to the target area. The other six were shot down after launching their Ohka Ohka rocket planes. rocket planes.

The crew of the lone Betty bomber brought with them the electrifying news of Dohi's success. They had watched his Ohka Ohka streak downward toward a battleship, six miles in the distance. Minutes later, a column of black smoke belched 500 meters from the ocean where the enemy battleship had been. It was glorious! streak downward toward a battleship, six miles in the distance. Minutes later, a column of black smoke belched 500 meters from the ocean where the enemy battleship had been. It was glorious!

What the bomber crew identified as a battleship was, in fact, the destroyer Mannert L. Abele Mannert L. Abele. But it didn't matter. After all the discouraging failures, Dohi's success was a hugely symbolic victory. The Thunder G.o.ds had sunk their first ship.

What none of them knew was that it was also their last.