Turning Point: Midway or Guadalcanal?

 

 World War II historians frequently discuss (alright, argue) which 1942 battle was The Turning Point in the Pacific War.  It’s a subject that naturally arises every June, and this year is the 83^rd anniversary of Midway, leading to Guadalcanal in August.

 

There are reasons for supporting either candidate as the turning point, although the subject is a duality.  The mutual relationship between Midway and Guadalcanal needs to be recognized and analyzed.  In either instance, the same players emerge as vital.

 

In the months after Pearl Harbor, we could not have prosecuted the war against Imperial Japan without two players:

 

The Douglas SBD Dauntless scout-bomber

And

USS Enterprise (CV-6).

 

Both were indispensable, and both were elements of the binary leading to victory.

 

Full disclosure:

 

I am an SBD evangelist.  It was the subject of my first book (The Dauntless Dive Bomber in WW II, Naval Institute 1976); an Osprey “Combat Aircraft” volume; and a novel (Dauntless: A Novel of Midway and Guadalcanal, Bantam 1992.)  The process began in 1972 when my father obtained the world’s only flying Dauntless (actually an Army A-24B) which we restored as an SBD-5.  By 1974 I logged about eight happy hours in the gunner’s seat—absolutely the best kind of historical research.

 

Before and after, my history circle included a stellar cast of SBD pilots, beginning with Rear Admiral Jig Dog Ramage at NAS Whidbey Island in 1967.  He led Enterprise’s Bombing Squadron 10 at the Philippine Sea battle, becoming a cherished friend.  Other SBD alumni included Rear Admiral Max Leslie and Captain Stanley “Swede” Vejtasa of Yorktown (CV-5) plus Lieutenant Commander Richard H. Best, Rear Admiral Martin “Red” Carmody, Commander Robert D. Gibson, and Vice Admiral William I. Martin, all of Enterprise.

 

Several years ago I wrote a Naval History article titled “The Plane that Won the War.”  I laid out the case (irrefutable, I might add) that without the Dauntless, the U.S. Navy would have lost the war in 1942.  The only option was the obsolete Vought SB2U Vindicator—merely 260 were built--and its only combat was land-based at Midway where it sustained severe losses without inflicting damage. 

 

At Coral Sea, Midway and Guadalcanal SBDs sank in whole or in part six Japanese carriers, all in a six-month period.  Torpedo bombers only contributed to destruction of two of those ships.

 

The next-generation dive bomber was Curtiss’ trouble-plagued SB2C Helldiver, which did enter combat until November 1943.  And the Helldiver did not fully replace carrier-based Dauntlesses until after the 1944 Marianas battle.  That was another June milepost for the SBD, cementing its record as the only U.S. carrier aircraft engaged in the first five carrier clashes.

 

So: which was the turning point?  Midway or Guadalcanal?

 

My friend and colleague Richard B. Frank laid out a solid case in his definitive 800-page study, Guadalcanal (Random House, 1990).  He cites a Japanese naval historian who said, “There were many famous battles…but we only talked about two: Midway and Guadalcanal.”

 

In fairness, we should acknowledge the linkage between the Coral Sea battle of early May 1942 and Midway four weeks later.  In the world’s first aircraft carrier engagement, both sides lost a flattop, and Japan’s thrust toward Port Morseby, New Guinea, was deterred.  Two imperial carriers were removed from the potential Midway lineup, and USS Yorktown (CV-5) was hastily repaired to sortie in time for her fateful rendezvous.

 

Midway was Japan’s last strategic offensive, a crucial U.S. victory that ended Japan’s momentum.  The Imperial Navy never mounted another major operation except in response to U.S. and Allied initiatives, notably in the Solomons, Marianas, and Philippines. 

 

But what if Japan had won at Midway?  What would that mean?

 

Most histories focus on Japan’s loss of four carriers at Midway, which certainly blunted Japan’s offensive potential.  However, at the sanguinary Battle of Santa Cruz north of the Solomons in October, the Imperial Navy lost more aircrew than at Midway. 

 

Seizing Midway Atoll would have posed immense problems for Tokyo.  Sustaining a remote garrison 1,100 miles from Oahu looks like Mission Impossible, given the distances involved and strained logistics support.  Meanwhile, the geo-strategic clock was ticking as American industry spooled up, producing the next generation of ships, aircraft, and personnel that began arriving in 1943.

 

Midway was a four-day battle (at most) versus a sapping, sanguinary six-month campaign at Guadalcanal.  The scales of engagement bear no similarity, but the raw numbers make a poor comparison.  What counts more is the strategic effect: an end to Japanese victories at Midway and America’s first offensive of the war at Guadalcanal.  But without Midway, Guadalcanal lacks impetus.

 

The difference between Admiral Chester Nimitz’s spectacular win at Midway and loss of that battle was measured downstream.  Additional months of relentless, grinding Pacific warfare meant tens of thousands of additional U.S. and Allied casualties.

 

Meanwhile, American retention of Midway was not a direct factor in launching Operation Watchtower in the Solomons that August.  But loss of two or more carriers at Midway definitely would have affected Nimitz’s ability to support the Guadalcanal landings.

 

However, here’s the short version: without the “incredible victory” at Midway, America still would have deployed atomic bombs, and the U.S. Pacific Fleet still would have dropped anchor in Tokyo Bay, certainly in 1946. 

 

Reverting to my Dauntless devotion, sometimes I still re-read Edward P. Stafford’s marvelous The Big E prose describing the SBDs rolling into their 70-degree dives over Admiral Nagumo’s carriers on the morning of June 4:

 

“In a dive bomber’s dream of perfection, the clean blue Dauntlesses—with their perforated dive flaps open at the trailing edges of their wings and their big bombs tucked tight and pointing home—the pilots straining forward, rudder-feet and stick-hands light and delicate, getting it just right as the yellow decks came up, left hands that would reach down and forward to release now resting on the cockpit edge, gunners lying on their backs behind the cocked twin barrels searching for the fighters that did not come—carved a moment out of eternity for man to remember forever.”