Rant Mode ON:

The United States Navy owns a glorious history and a rich heritage.  But this month the service paid scant attention to one of the most significant naval events of all time.

May 7-8 marked the 70th anniversary of the Battle of the Coral Sea, the arrival of the naval millennium when two fleets fought each other beyond visual range.  The entire battle was conducted “below the horizon” as two American aircraft carriers dueled with three Japanese flattops for two days.   Previously naval battles were fought hull to hull in the age of oars; often within pistol shot in the age of sail; and within several miles from the 1890s through 1944.  There have been no naval battles since Leyte Gulf, which makes the carrier air strikes of 1942 even more remarkable.

This month Naval History and Heritage Command, which after years of neglect recently received a new director, placed Coral Sea third in precedence on its web site (www.history.navy.mil) behind the War of 1812 and WW II in the Pacific. 

A brief word about the 200th anniversary of the 1812 thing: though oft cast as a U.S. victory, the fact remains that the Brits captured Washington, D.C.; burned the White House; and ate Dolley Madison’s lunch.  The early ship-to-ship victories by America’s storied frigates eventually wilted amid the vastly superior forces of His Majesty’s Nivey.  Yet the chief of naval operations lauded the 19th century sailors in the May issue of the prestigious Naval Institute Proceedings, with nary a peep about Coral Sea.  In fact, in addressing the annual Midway Night observance of the epic June 1942 victory, the current naval chief and his predecessor have been reluctant to mention “the J word,” presumably lest the Japanese take offense.  A peculiar attitude, since Tokyo sent a sizeable delegation to Coral Sea and Midway.

Perhaps the most public nod to Coral Sea occurred at the Navy Memorial in Washington, D.C., with Australian participation, but again, the announcement omitted any reference to The Empire of the Sun.

The official Navy web site, www.navy.mil, had one brief mention of Coral Sea, describing an observance in Australia.  The battle means something Down Under, as a glance at the map will show.  Australia’s northeast coast borders the Coral Sea, with all the geostrategic implications one may infer from that fact.  “Ozzies” were severely interested in the outcome of any Japanese thrust in their direction.

The minimal tribute paid to Coral Sea reminds us that in 1998 not only the navy but apparently the entire U.S. Government acted as if the Spanish-American War had never occurred.  However misbegotten its origin (the battleship Maine almost certainly blew up from internal causes rather than Spanish treachery), the war placed America in the front rank of world navies.  Yet that was the centennial that wasn’t.

Since the Navy and the Nation pay so little heed to Coral Sea’s 70th anniversary, I’ll perform a public service by providing a summary:

In 1942 Tokyo’s southern strategy was aimed at Australia and the stops on the supply lanes from Hawaii.  An invasion force set sail toward Port Morseby, New Guinea, which in Japanese hands could lead to a reduction or even elimination of American sea communications with Australia.  Further advances from there would have threatened Samoa and the Fijis.

American code breakers learned of Japan’s “Operation MO,” permitting Admiral Chester Nimitz to deploy the carriers Lexington (CV-2) under Rear Admiral Aubrey Fitch and Yorktown (CV-5) under Rear Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher with support including two Australian cruisers.  Nimitz had to oppose MO: Australia was vulnerable, since most of its land forces were committed to North Africa.

On May 7 American reconnaissance aircraft sighted multiple Japanese naval forces, and despite initial confusion, both U.S. carrier air groups found the enemy advance force: the light carrier Shoho and four cruisers.  The result was severe overkill as 93 “Lex” and “Yorky” planes swarmed over the small flattop, sending her to the bottom in less than 30 minutes at a cost of three U.S. aircraft.  Debriefing showed that half of the attackers would have been better used against some of the cruisers, but remember: nobody had ever fought a carrier battle before.  To an extent, the tailhookers were writing the manual as they went.

Later that day a Japanese air strike from the large carriers Shokaku and Zuikaku, seeking the U.S. carriers, came across the oiler Neosho and an escorting destroyer.  The latter was sunk while the oiler sustained fatal damage.  Then that evening another Japanese formation returning to its roosts stumbled across Fitch and Fletcher.  In a confused twilight shootout, nine Japanese planes and three Americans were downed.  Clearly the next day would bring more combat.

On the morning of May 8 both sides traded blows.  Many of the 75 American planes never found the enemy in thick weather but Yorktown dive bombers hit Shokaku, temporarily putting her out of action.   The Yanks lost five aircraft, including Lexington’s air group commander, William B. Ault, and Yorktown’s Lieutenant Joseph J. Powers, who received a posthumous Medal of Honor for his Shokaku attack.

Next 69 Japanese planes targeted Fletcher and Fitch, and hit both carriers.  Lexington eventually succumbed to a combination of bomb and torpedo damage while Yorktown took a bomb hit and numerous near misses.  In the churning, multi-faceted air battle, American and Japanese squadrons took heavy losses, including Dauntless scout-bombers pressed into service as low-level interceptors.  Two Medals of Honor were awarded for that day: Lexington pilot William E. Hall and Yorktown damage control officer Milton Rickets (posthumously).

Battles inevitably are reduced to score cards, with the U.S. losing 656 fliers and sailors, three ships and 69 aircraft while Japan wrote off a light carrier, 966 men and 92 aircraft.  On the larger scale, Japan abandoned Operation MO and the Pacific War moved into its next phase.  Because Shokaku was damaged and Zuikaku’s air group was thinned, neither was available four weeks later.  On the other hand, hasty repairs on Yorktown sent her to Midway where she met her fate, sharing in the epic victory over four enemy carriers.

I’ve been privileged to know some Yorktown Coral Sea veterans including fighter pilot William N. Leonard; scout-bomber pilot Stanley W. Vejtasa; and aviation mechanic William F. Surgi.  Bill and Bill are gone now but Swede remains with us to tell the tale.   Perhaps this small tribute to them will serve as an appreciation to all.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Navy might pay a bit more attention to its own history.

Rant Mode to STANDBY.

WINKLE'S WAY

Last year was the 100th anniversary of U.S. naval aviation, and I believe the Royal Navy had observed its aeronautical centennial in 2009. But it occurred to me that nobody had asked the world champion carrier aviator about his technique. Captain Eric M. Brown, RN (Ret) is bound to retain the title approximately forever, based upon his 2,400 arrested landings during an exceptional career. He flew Grumman Martlets (aka Wildcats) from an escort carrier in 1941, shot down two Focke-Wulf 200s (another world record), got sunk, and became a world-renowned test pilot. His literary output is not only impressive but invaluable, considering the immense variety of aircraft he's flown.


So, having been acquainted with "Winkle" since the 1980s, I wrote him in May 2011 asking about his method of landing aboard aircraft carriers in the 1940s. He replied with a beautifully hand-written letter in response to my inquiry as to his method in trapping on a specific wire on all those CVEs. I also asked him about the RN's master baggers, and he confirmed that the Double Grand Club is limited to two members. He's "president" with 2,400 traps. This year he's 93 and, as you'll see, remains active.


* * *


As to the subject of deck landings (DLs). I have records of the top “scorers” in the Fleet Air Arm, and besides myself we had one other, Lt. Cdr. Bill bailey, who just exceeded 2,000 DLs which he acquired during 3 years as a “clockwork mouse” (demonstrating landings to endless courses of wartime recruited naval pilots.) However, after this there is a big gap down to 600 with very few in that bracket. I’m afraid Mike Lithgow was not a high scorer—about 200.


I started my score in 1941 and really piled them up in 1942 and ’43 when I was graded as an escort carrier specialist and proofed all the new “Woolworth carriers” coming over brand new from American shipyards, and some also from UK shipyards. I proofed 20 carriers in all, and this involved flying 4 types of aircraft (two torpedo bombers and two fighters) into each of normally 8 arrester wires twice each with each type of aircraft, followed by an accelerated takeoff.


At first I had 3 pilots to assist me, but they were soon withdrawn because their trap rate on a selected wire was too low and the process took far too long. When on my own my trap rate on a selected wire averaged about 80% without a LSO, which I dispensed with largely because he was replaced too frequently or none was readily available in wartime.


I employed a standard DL technique of never letting my approved speed creep above 1.1 VS, then aiming for the wire beyond the one that was my target, and cutting the throttle as it disappeared from my forward view.


In 1943 I was mainly engaged in deck landing various models of Seafire while in the Navy’s Service Trials Unit, and logged over 500 traps in that somewhat tricky aircraft.


Thereafter in the six years as Chief Naval test Pilot at RAE Farnborough I was responsible for making the initial deck landings on virtually every new type of naval aircraft that came into service, including our first twin-engined aircraft.


After 1941 I also became heavily involved in catapulting trials, particularly at Farnborough where we had every type of new catapult installed. In fact, my total catapult launches (2,721) exceeds my total traps (2,407) because so many were made ashore. There is a wonderful book recording all the work at RAE entitled Farnborough and the Fleet Air Arm by Geoffrey Cooper, published by Midland Publishing in 2008.


I am still active in the lecturing circuit and tour around Europe quite a lot.  I see a bit of my astronaut friend Neil Armstrong—we were both given honorary doctorates by Edinburgh University at the same time.

THE FORGOTTEN FIFTEENTH

My next book has just been contracted with Regnery in Washington, D.C. To my knowledge it’s the first full-length account of the 15th U.S. Army Air Force in World War II: “The Forgotten Fifteenth.”

Absolutely everybody who knows anything about WW II aviation knows of “The Mighty Eighth” that flew from England from 1942 to 1945. But other than the Red Tails of the 332nd Fighter Group, hardly anyone walking down the street can name any of the other 28 bomber, fighter, or recon groups of the 15th, which conducted the southern half of the Allied Combined Bomber Offensive. Between November 1943 and May 1945 the 15th flew from bases around Foggia, Italy, with a lasting effect on the course of the war. That reason was summarized in one word: oil.

Hitler’s Balkan petroleum sources lay in Romania, far beyond the reach of UK-based bombers. Therefore, the 15th was handed the major task of turning off the oil flow that fueled about one-third of the Wehrmacht. The importance of the mission—and the cost—already had been demonstrated in a spectacular low-level attack against Ploesti in August 1943, two months before the 15th stood up. Of 177 B-24s on the mission, 54 were lost or interned when they landed with battle damage in Turkey.

However, because the 15th operated in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations, it was largely overlooked in favor of the 8th. The reasons were varied: geographical, institutional, and promotional. Veterans of “the forgotten air force” will tell you that war correspondents much preferred sipping single-malt scotch in London hotels to chugging vino under canvas in not-so-sunny Italy, where (contrary to expectations) the weather was worse than in Britain.

Despite the dearth of PR, the 15th produced many outstanding airmen. The first commanding general was Jimmy Doolittle, who learned the trade of a strategic air commander in Italy before being called to England in January 1944. He was succeeded by Nathan Twining, later chief of staff of the independent U.S. Air Force from 1953 to 1957.

At the cockpit level, the 15th had two posthumous Medal of Honor recipients: B-17 bombardier David Kingsley who gave his parachute harness to a wounded gunner, and B-24 pilot Donald Puckett who remained with his doomed plane rather than abandon some crew members. Both died on missions against Romania in 1944.

Fighter pilots included top guns Captain John Voll (21 victories) and Major Herschel Green (18) as well as 21-year-old Mustang pilot Bob Goebel who almost certainly defeated the world’s top ace, Major Erich Hartmann. Then there was Colonel “Curly” Edwinson whose P-38 group tangled with some unidentified fighters over Yugoslavia with losses on both sides. The strangers were Yaks, and the Soviets were cranky about losing a general in the Lightnings’ strafing attack.

Two special-operations squadrons flew clandestine missions in and out of Occupied Europe, sometimes from bases carved from the land behind enemy lines. Those operations remain almost unknown to the public, even to many students of aviation history.

An unappreciated aspect of 15th Air Force operations is the variety of opponents it faced. Apart from the Luftwaffe, Twining’s enemies included air arms of Fascist Italy, Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, and Slovakia. In fact, due to MTO geography, the 15th not only fought more Axis nations than the 8th and 9th, but crossed more borders as well. In addition to the nations noted above, the 15th also flew in France, Austria, Albania, Greece, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Yugoslavia, and Russia.

In contrast to the 8th, the 15th only attacked Berlin once—the longest mission Twining ever launched, in late March 1945. But the 15th lost 311 aircraft flying against Vienna--more than anywhere else, including the notorious Ploesti oil complex in Romania, with about 235. Munich ranked third with 101 losses, followed by the Weiner-Neustadt complex near Vienna. Another dreaded target was Blechhammer, the synthetic fuel center in present-day Poland. Bomber crews knew the place as “Black Hammer,” with good reason. It tied with Regensburg as the fifth most dangerous name on the 15th’s target list.

When Romania capitulated in August 1944, Ploesti was producing a fraction of the fuel it had previously delivered to the Wehrmacht. The 15th’s persistent oil campaign, conducted between April and August, made a significant contribution to the Allied war effort. At year end, when Hitler’s panzers ran out of fuel during the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium, the fliers who turned off the Balkan spigot were partly responsible.

By V-E Day the 15th had lost some 2,500 aircraft including more than 1,800 bombers. Its seven fighter groups claimed nearly 1,800 enemy aircraft shot down while producing 75 aces. The 15th’s mastery of southern European skies was such that it only lost 26 bombers to enemy aircraft in the last seven months of hostilities.

Even less known than the 15th is the MTO’s tactical air force, the 12th—counterpart to the 9th Air Force in Britain. The 12th flew fighters and medium bombers, mainly P-47s, B-25s and B-26s, supporting U.S. ground forces in Italy and Southern France, and also provided troop carrier groups for airborne operations. The 12th deserves a book of its own, and I hope that a qualified author will take a long look at that subject.

Meanwhile, I’d welcome contact with any veterans of the 15th Air Force—which should not be forgotten.