The Twilight Warriors Part 18

The first to peel off were four fixed-gear D3A Val dive bombers. Swooping down like vultures, they split into pairs, two on the starboard bow, the other pair coming from astern.

Becton ordered Laffey Laffey into a hard turn to port. The destroyer's forward 5-inchers opened up, splashing both Vals attacking at the bow. The pair from astern were coming in low-so low that one inadvertently caught his landing gear in the wave tops and pitched over into the sea. The second disintegrated in the torrent of combined gunfire from into a hard turn to port. The destroyer's forward 5-inchers opened up, splashing both Vals attacking at the bow. The pair from astern were coming in low-so low that one inadvertently caught his landing gear in the wave tops and pitched over into the sea. The second disintegrated in the torrent of combined gunfire from Laffey Laffey and one of her escorting gunboats. and one of her escorting gunboats.

Four up, four down, but there was no break in the action. Two D4Y Judy dive-bombers were coming in from either side. The Judys were sleeker and faster than the obsolescent Vals-and harder to hit. The 40-millimeter and 20-millimeter gunners chopped up the Judy attacking on the starboard side, but the one from the port side slipped through the fire. As he drew closer, the pilot opened up with his machine guns. Bullets raked the deck, killing gunners and pinging into Laffey Laffey's superstructure.

Just as the antiaircraft fire converged on the Judy, the pilot released his bomb. The bomb detonated on the water, but the explosion sent shrapnel slashing across Laffey Laffey's deck, mowing down more crewmen and knocking out the critical surface search radar.

Keep moving and keep shooting. The words from Ca.s.sin Young Ca.s.sin Young's skipper were fresh in Becton's mind. He was swinging Laffey Laffey's bow in vicious turns from port to starboard and back again, keeping her guns broadside to the attackers.

Another pair of kamikazes, a Val and a Judy dive-bomber, came swooping in from opposite sides in a coordinated attack. Laffey Laffey's gunners splashed them both, but the shattered Val grazed the destroyer's aft 5-inch mount, killing one of the gunners, before crashing into the sea on the far side of the ship.

Laffey had been under attack for twelve minutes, but it seemed like a year. The destroyer had fought off eight kamikazes without taking a single direct hit. The combined firepower of the destroyer and her two LCS gunboat escorts had taken down every attacking plane. had been under attack for twelve minutes, but it seemed like a year. The destroyer had fought off eight kamikazes without taking a single direct hit. The combined firepower of the destroyer and her two LCS gunboat escorts had taken down every attacking plane. Laffey Laffey's luck seemed to be holding.

For three minutes there was a break in the attacks. Then another Val came roaring in from the port bow. Even as the streams of gunfire from the destroyer and the gunboats poured into the kamikaze, it somehow held its course. The Val slammed into Laffey Laffey's port side, exploding into the amidships 20-millimeter gun station before caroming off the starboard side into the sea.

Three more gunners were killed instantly, and the entire aft half of the destroyer was torched in flaming gasoline. Laffey Laffey's streak of luck had ended.

A few miles to the north, Tail End Charlie Al Lerch was making the most of his new role-section leader. On his wing was Tuck Heath, whose dead radio, at least according to standard procedure, should have excluded him from the mission. But Heath's guns still worked, and he was sticking with Lerch. few miles to the north, Tail End Charlie Al Lerch was making the most of his new role-section leader. On his wing was Tuck Heath, whose dead radio, at least according to standard procedure, should have excluded him from the mission. But Heath's guns still worked, and he was sticking with Lerch.

Then Lerch spotted the most tantalizing sight he'd ever seen-a flock of thirty Nate fighters, droning toward them like ducks to a blind. The Nates were in loose three-plane formations. Each was carrying an external bomb intended for a U.S. ship.

With Heath in trail, Lerch swept down on the Nates. On the first pa.s.s, each pilot gunned down one Nate. The panicky survivors scattered, diving for the water, with Lerch and Heath hard on their tails. The inept j.a.panese pilots were clearly untrained in air-to-air combat, milling around close to the water, making themselves easy targets for the Corsairs.

Lerch slid in behind three slow-moving Nates. Firing from dead astern, he poured .50-caliber bullets into each of the hapless Nates. In the s.p.a.ce of three minutes, Lerch had sent all three flaming into the ocean.

Climbing back to alt.i.tude, Lerch looked around for Heath, who had gone missing. Then Lerch spotted three more Nates cutting across the northern tip of Okinawa, a few miles away. He was sweeping in behind one of them, about to squeeze his trigger, when he sensed a dark blue object swelling in his peripheral vision.

It was Heath. He was still radioless, but he was fixated on the same target that Lerch had in his sights. At the last instant, Lerch swerved out of the way, barely avoiding a collision, while Heath blazed away at the hapless Nate fighter.

There was no shortage of targets. Minutes later, Lerch was behind another Nate. At close range, he opened fire from directly astern.

The next thing Al Lerch saw was a fireball in front of his nose. Instinctively he ducked in the c.o.c.kpit, feeling pieces of the exploding Nate thunking into his wings and cowling.

Emerging from the cloud of debris, he peered around. There was nothing left of the Nate. Lerch's Corsair was damaged-he could see dents and rips in the leading edges-but the engine was still running.

And his guns still worked. Minutes later, Lerch found himself in yet another nose-to-nose contest with Heath, both of them chasing another Nate. This time Lerch got to it first, setting it afire, with Heath delivering the coup de grace.

It was another day for the record books. Phil Kirkwood's four-plane division had gunned down twenty enemy airplanes, with Kirkwood and Quiel accounting for half the total. The second pair, Tail End Charlies Heath and Lerch, did just as well. Tuck Heath, who by strict interpretation of the rules shouldn't have been in the fight, was credited with three kills.

But it was Al Lerch who won the greatest share of the glory. In a single mission, the baby-faced ensign shot down seven enemy airplanes, a feat of arms matched by only four other Americans in history.

29

AS LONG AS A GUN WILL FIRE AS LONG AS A GUN WILL FIRE RADAR PICKET STATION 1

APRIL 16, 1945

The fires on the Laffey Laffey weren't going out. Skipper Julian Becton was forced to slow the destroyer's speed to keep from fanning the flames. An ominous column of black smoke was billowing into the sky, a beacon for more kamikazes. weren't going out. Skipper Julian Becton was forced to slow the destroyer's speed to keep from fanning the flames. An ominous column of black smoke was billowing into the sky, a beacon for more kamikazes.

In quick succession, two more Val dive-bombers swept down on Laffey Laffey. The first attacked from astern, close to the water and partly obscured by the cloud of smoke trailing the destroyer. Despite taking repeated hits, the Val plowed into Laffey Laffey's aft gun mounts. Gun captain Larry Delewski was blown over the side by the explosion. Amazingly, Delewski was unhurt, and so were two other crewmen who went into the water and were later picked up by one of the gunboats.

Flames were leaping from Laffey Laffey's fantail, and the black smoke thickened over the ship. Firefighters worked desperately to keep the fires from reaching the ammunition magazines. Just when it seemed that Laffey Laffey's condition could get no worse, an eleventh attacker crashed into the stern in almost the same spot as the one before. Another gun crew was killed instantly.

Yet another Val came diving from astern. Unlike the committed kamikazes, this one planted his bomb directly into Laffey Laffey's stern, then pulled up and soared back into the sky. The explosion of the bomb severed the cables and hydraulic lines to the destroyer's steering gear, jamming the rudder at 26 degrees to port.

Keep moving and keep shooting. The advice Becton had received now seemed like a bad joke. He had no choice except to steam in a leftward circle. He couldn't straighten the ship's rudder, and he had only a few remaining guns.

For the kamikazes still circling, the crippled destroyer was an easy target. Two more Vals came boring in from the port quarter. The first exploded into the aft deckhouse, sending up a cascade of fire and shrapnel. Right behind it came the second, crashing in almost the same spot. Flaming gasoline covered the aft half of the destroyer.

Belowdecks, the crew was fighting to save the ship-and their lives. Two machinist's mates, George Logan and Stephen Waite, were trapped in the emergency diesel room. With no light and no ventilation, they signaled the engine room of their predicament. Their fellow machinist's mates John Michel and Buford Thompson managed to chisel a hole in the bulkhead large enough to thread an air hose into the compartment. Two more machinist's mates, Art Hogan and Elton Peeler, went to work with cutting torches, finally opening a hole large enough to haul the trapped men to safety.

Overhead, a dozen Corsairs had showed up to engage the attacking kamikazes. As Becton watched from his bridge, a Nakajima Ki-43 Oscar fighter came streaking toward Laffey Laffey's port bow, flying through a hail of 40-millimeter and 20-millimeter fire. Directly behind it, flying through the same fire, came a Marine Corsair, blazing away at the Oscar that was aimed at Laffey Laffey's bridge.

The Oscar missed the bridge, but his wing ripped through the port yardarm of the mast. With a spectacular crash, the yardarm crashed to the deck, carrying the American flag with it. A half second later, the pursuing Corsair hit the same mast, tearing off the air-search radar antenna.

Astonished, Becton watched the crippled planes flounder back over the water. Each was struggling to stay airborne. The fatally damaged Oscar wobbled, then dropped its nose and crashed into the sea. The Corsair clawed its way up for a few hundred feet more, then a tiny figure tumbled from the c.o.c.kpit. Moments later, Becton saw a parachute canopy blossom, and the pilot descended to the water.

On Laffey Laffey's bridge, nineteen-year-old Ari Phoutrides, the quartermaster of the watch, was supposed to be writing down everything that happened. "I couldn't even hold a pencil," Phoutrides recalled, "let alone write."

With all other communications lines severed, Phoutrides was the captain's lookout and messenger. Phoutrides spotted a kamikaze coming in low on the port beam. "I had to practically beat the OOD [officer of the deck] over the head with my fist before he paid any attention to me. This was the only time I've hit an officer and gotten away with it." Alerted to the danger, the gunners splashed the kamikaze just in time.

The Corsairs were taking down some of the kamikazes, but not all. A Judy dive-bomber came roaring in on the port beam with a Corsair nipping at his tail. Laffey Laffey's gunners opened up on the Judy, trying to keep from hitting the American fighter, finally exploding the kamikaze 50 yards short of Laffey Laffey. The shrapnel slammed into the destroyer, slicing the communications lines to the 5-inch guns and wounding most of the gunners.

That made seventeen attackers so far, and there seemed to be no end in sight. With the electrical controls of their gun mounts gone, Laffey Laffey's gunners were down to old-fashioned manual control.

Two more kamikazes, both Oscar fighters, were converging from the starboard side. The first exploded from a direct hit in the nose by a manually controlled 5-inch gun mount. The second, boring in on the starboard bow, also went down from 5-inch fire.

Laffey was almost finished. The a.s.sistant communications officer, Lt. Frank Manson, asked Becton if he thought they'd have to abandon ship. "No," snapped the captain. "I'll never abandon ship as long as a gun will fire." was almost finished. The a.s.sistant communications officer, Lt. Frank Manson, asked Becton if he thought they'd have to abandon ship. "No," snapped the captain. "I'll never abandon ship as long as a gun will fire."

Luckily, Becton didn't hear the lookout next to him, who added in a low voice, "And if I can find one man to fire it."

On his CAP station over the northern picket ships, Grim Reapers skipper Lt. Cmdr. Wally Clarke was finally getting into the action. He had just received a vector to intercept bogeys coming from the northwest.

Clarke's number three, Lt. (jg) Charles "Bo" Farmer, was the first to spot them: twelve o'clock high, at 20,000 feet. Bo Farmer had the same score as Clarke-four kills-from his earlier combat tour. Like Clarke, he was one tantalizing number away from being an ace.

Climbing through 16,000 feet, they got a good look at the bogeys. These weren't the sitting-duck Nates and Val kamikazes like Kirkwood's flight had just finished blowing out of the sky. These were Tony and Zero fighters-real fighters-and they were there to cover the kamikazes. fighters-and they were there to cover the kamikazes.

As the Corsairs approached, the j.a.panese fighters peeled off, swooping down to meet them. Instead of a turkey shoot, this was going to be a cla.s.sic, no-holds-barred dogfight.

Clarke's Tail End Charlie, Ens. Ray James, saw the distinctive shapes of three Tony fighters swooping down toward him in a perfect pursuit curve. The Tony was unique, the only j.a.panese fighter powered by an in-line, liquid-cooled engine. When the Tony made its first appearance in the Pacific, it was mistaken for a German Messerschmitt Bf 109.

James winced as he saw the tracers of the first Tony's 12.7-millimeter machine guns searing past him. But the j.a.panese pilot had been too eager. The bullets missed James's Corsair, and now Wally Clarke was whipping in behind the Tony. Seconds later, Clarke had him in his sights, gunning the j.a.panese fighter out of the air.

Behind the Tonys came four Zeroes. One made the mistake of overshooting his high-side run on Tail End Charlie Ray James. James took advantage of the mistake, maneuvering behind the Zero's tail. He stayed there, all six machine guns firing, until the j.a.panese fighter went into the water.

Up above, the other three Corsair pilots were mixing it up with the remaining j.a.panese fighters. Bo Farmer was having a field day, splashing three Zeroes and a Tony fighter. Clarke climbed up after an escaping Zero, catching the fighter and blowing it to pieces.

The fight was over as quickly as it had begun. The surviving j.a.panese fighters scattered like quail. Clarke's flight was returning to the orbit point when another call for help crackled on the tactical frequency. A destroyer-USS Laffey Laffey-was in trouble.

When they arrived over the radar picket ship, they found a swirling tableau of antiaircraft fire, swarming kamikazes, and friendly fighters, including Wildcats and h.e.l.lcats from other carriers and a contingent of Marine Corsairs from the Okinawa airfields.

Clarke and his wingman, Ens. Jack Ehrhard, went after a pair of Vals that were positioning for a run on the Laffey Laffey. Clarke flamed one, and Ehrhard put enough rounds into the second to send it smoking toward the water.

Minutes later, they spotted a j.a.panese Betty bomber low on the water, racing at top speed from a pair of pursuing F6F h.e.l.lcats. Sportsmanship between fighter pilots, especially those from different carriers, was virtually nonexistent. Clarke and Ehrhard rolled in on the Betty, neatly cutting out the h.e.l.lcats.

In his eagerness to nail the Betty, however, Clarke overran the bomber before he could get it in his sights. That left his wingman, Ehrhard, to claim the prize, while the disgruntled h.e.l.lcat pilots watched from astern.

But the Betty didn't crash, even after Ehrhard poured a hail of lead into it. The bomber skipped off the water, pulled up, then splashed down in a semicontrolled ditching. As the Corsair pilots swept overhead, they saw three figures clamber out of the wreck of the bomber. The j.a.panese crewmen were bobbing like otters in the water, within paddling distance of a nearby enemy-occupied island.

This was not a day-nor an era-for compa.s.sion. None of the American pilots had charitable feelings for the enemy who had been killing American sailors all morning. One after the other, .50-calibers firing, they strafed the water around the downed Betty until nothing was left but a dark froth.

Laffey's gunners were being killed or wounded as fast as they could be replaced. Even though the CAP fighters were engaging the kamikazes, shooting down or chasing away most of them, gunners were being killed or wounded as fast as they could be replaced. Even though the CAP fighters were engaging the kamikazes, shooting down or chasing away most of them, Laffey Laffey was still a target. was still a target.

A bomb struck her just below the bridge, wiping out the two 20-millimeter mounts and killing both gun crews as well as several already wounded men being treated below in the main-deck-level wardroom being used as a dressing station.

Then came a Judy dive-bomber, hurtling in from the port quarter. Laffey Laffey's gunners blazed away with their remaining 40-millimeter and 20-millimeter guns, but the blunt-nosed shape of the Judy continued to swell in size. At the last moment before impact, a Corsair caught the kamikaze from behind. The Judy crashed into the water close aboard. The blazing hulk skidded into the destroyer's hull, causing a dent but no serious damage.

For the moment, no more enemy planes seemed to be targeting Laffey Laffey. Peering into the sky, Ari Phoutrides had the feeling that it was over. He could see more than a dozen fighters-Corsairs and h.e.l.lcats-chasing the few remaining kamikazes.

For the wounded Laffey Laffey, it was almost too late. Fires in the aft half of the ship were still burning out of control. The destroyer was slowly flooding. Her shattered fantail was nearly submerged. Though her engines were running, the rudder was still jammed hard to port. Captain Becton was trying every combination of engine thrust to steer the destroyer southward, away from the kamikaze hunting ground. Nothing worked.

The destroyer-minesweeper Macomb Macomb steamed up to a.s.sist with the frantic damage control efforts and to take the destroyer under tow. With her flooded stern and jammed rudder, steamed up to a.s.sist with the frantic damage control efforts and to take the destroyer under tow. With her flooded stern and jammed rudder, Laffey Laffey was untowable by a single vessel. In the early afternoon, a pair of fleet tugs arrived. After using pumps to control the flooding, they managed to haul the destroyer back to the Hagushi anchorage at Okinawa. was untowable by a single vessel. In the early afternoon, a pair of fleet tugs arrived. After using pumps to control the flooding, they managed to haul the destroyer back to the Hagushi anchorage at Okinawa.

Laffey wasn't the only casualty that day on RP1. Both her gunboat escorts had taken heavy damage. LCS-116 was struck topside, suffering seventeen dead and twelve wounded. LCS-51 had a gaping hole in her hull, with three men wounded. wasn't the only casualty that day on RP1. Both her gunboat escorts had taken heavy damage. LCS-116 was struck topside, suffering seventeen dead and twelve wounded. LCS-51 had a gaping hole in her hull, with three men wounded.

In the fading light at the anchorage that evening, sailors from other ships gawked at the mangled USS Laffey Laffey. It was hard to believe any ship could take that much punishment and keep fighting. Several ships of Laffey Laffey's size had been sunk from a single kamikaze.

No other vessel in the war would take as many kamikaze hits and remain afloat. In twenty-two separate attacks Laffey Laffey endured six kamikaze crashes and two bomb strikes. Thirty-two of her crew were dead, and seventy-one were wounded. In exchange, her gunners took down nine kamikazes. In seventy-nine minutes of h.e.l.lish combat, USS endured six kamikaze crashes and two bomb strikes. Thirty-two of her crew were dead, and seventy-one were wounded. In exchange, her gunners took down nine kamikazes. In seventy-nine minutes of h.e.l.lish combat, USS Laffey Laffey had earned herself a niche in naval history. had earned herself a niche in naval history.

30

GLORY DAY GLORY DAY NORTHERN RYUKYU ISLANDS

APRIL 16, 1945

Lt. George "Bee" Weems gazed into the morning sky, trying to spot the dark specks coming from the north. The bogeys were reported flying at low alt.i.tude, not in their usual loose formation but singly, strung out in a line. Weems guessed that they were coming from an island in the northern Ryukyus.

Like many fighter pilots, Bee Weems had a quirk. His was the pair of binoculars he carried in the c.o.c.kpit, earning him the moniker "Eyes of the Fleet," though no one had actually seen him use the gla.s.ses in flight. The binoculars were a carryover from his days as a destroyer man. Weems was a Naval Academy grad and the son of a naval officer, Capt. Philip Weems, who was a renowned pioneer of sea and air navigation.

Weems's wingman, Ens. Charlie Schlag, nicknamed "Curly," was a balding young man from West Virginia who had trained in dive-bombers before being switched to fighters. Schlag had his own quirk. He carried two canteens in his emergency equipment. One was aluminum, for water. The other was plastic, and it contained whisky. Schlag had heard somewhere that whisky had enough nutritional value to keep you alive for a week in your life raft. He had no idea whether it was true or not, but what the h.e.l.l-he was willing to give it a try.

They spotted the first bogey a few minutes before 0900. It was a Zero at low alt.i.tude and climbing, confirming Weems's suspicion that the kamikazes had begun staging from one of the nearby islands, probably Kikai. Weems and Schlag rolled in on the Zero, coordinating their firing pa.s.ses, each getting solid hits, sending the Zero down in flames. It was a coldly efficient team attack, for which the pilots would share the credit.

Seconds later, they spotted another Zero, also low and climbing. This one Weems promptly shot down. Then a third showed up, and Schlag took his turn. He was still putting bullets into the Zero, making it smoke, when the j.a.panese fighter abruptly rolled inverted and dove for the ocean. Weems was there, guns firing, and the Zero joined its two predecessors in the ocean. Another shared kill.

The action wasn't over. Five minutes later, yet another solo Zero showed up. Like the others, it was in a climb, and Weems wasted no time blasting it out of the sky.

The sky was cleared of enemy planes, at least for the moment. The Zeroes had all carried external bombs, which meant to Weems that they were kamikazes and not fighters. He requested permission to reconnoiter the enemy island of Kikai, only 10 miles away.

Minutes later, permission received, Weems and Schlag, now joined by their second two-plane section, were sweeping over the j.a.panese airfield. They caught one Betty bomber out in the open, which they exploded with their guns. They found a Zero in a revetment and set it afire.

And that was it. If there were more kamikazes based on Kikai, they were well concealed. Or, as Bee Weems suspected, they were already airborne and attacking American ships.

Weems was right. On the northern picket stations, the kamikazes were again pouncing on the tin cans. The destroyer Bryant Bryant, which had been steaming to Laffey Laffey's a.s.sistance from nearby RP2, came under attack by six kamikazes. One crashed into the base of her bridge, wiping out the CIC compartment and the plotting rooms, killing thirty-four sailors.

At the same time on RP14, three more picket ships, the destroyer Pringle Pringle, the destroyer/minesweeper Hobson Hobson, and their escorting gunboat, LCS-191, were all slugging it out with kamikazes. Pringle Pringle's gunners had already splashed one attacking Zero and were now fighting off three Vals.

Pringle's skipper, Lt. Cmdr. John Kelley, was following the "keep moving, keep shooting" doctrine, turning hard in each direction to give his main batteries a full field of fire. It wasn't enough. A Val wove its way through the smoke and flak, smashing into Pringle Pringle just behind her forward stack. just behind her forward stack. Pringle Pringle didn't have didn't have Laffey Laffey's toughness-or her luck. The impact of the kamikaze buckled the destroyer's keel. Pringle Pringle broke in half, and in less than five minutes she went to the bottom, taking sixty-two men with her. broke in half, and in less than five minutes she went to the bottom, taking sixty-two men with her.

April 16 was turning into one of the deadliest days ever for kamikaze attacks. In kikusui kikusui No. 3 the j.a.panese had sent fewer airplanes than in the two previous ma.s.sed attacks-only 165 airplanes instead of the initial wave of 355-but the tactics had become more deadly. The kamikazes had learned to coordinate their attacks and hit from opposite sides, relentlessly stalking ships that were already wounded and smoking. No. 3 the j.a.panese had sent fewer airplanes than in the two previous ma.s.sed attacks-only 165 airplanes instead of the initial wave of 355-but the tactics had become more deadly. The kamikazes had learned to coordinate their attacks and hit from opposite sides, relentlessly stalking ships that were already wounded and smoking.

But a question still puzzled American commanders: why were the kamikazes throwing themselves at the picket destroyers instead of at the higher-value warships farther south? One explanation was that the j.a.panese considered the radar picket ships to be vital targets. Another was that the picket ships were birds in hand-the first targets the anxious kamikaze pilots spotted on the route to Okinawa.

And then there was an even simpler possibility: the kamikaze pilots didn't know the difference between warships. Several had been heard excitedly transmitting that they were "diving on a battleship" when their target was a destroyer.

But on the afternoon of April 16, the tokko tokko pilots stalking the ships of Task Force 58 northeast of Okinawa knew exactly what cla.s.s of warship they were hunting. Their targets were big, fast, and unmistakable. One of them was the aircraft carrier pilots stalking the ships of Task Force 58 northeast of Okinawa knew exactly what cla.s.s of warship they were hunting. Their targets were big, fast, and unmistakable. One of them was the aircraft carrier Intrepid Intrepid.

While the Grim Reapers of VF-10 were lighting up the sky over the picket ships, their sister squadron, VBF-10, was doing what the air-to-mud fighters had always done-diving through fire and flak to hit targets on the ground.

It was a dirty, dangerous job. As he usually did, air group commander Johnny Hyland had a.s.signed himself to lead the twelve-plane strike on Kokubu, a j.a.panese airfield on the southern tip of Kyushu. Intelligence reports indicated that Kokubu had become a nest for the kamikazes that were savaging the picket ships.