15

1

“I have returned.”

Sunrise, Friday, October 20, 1944, over Leyte Gulf revealed to the Japanese an awesome armada, one of the largest and most powerful assemblies ever con-centrated in the Pacifi c. Emerging from its obscurity and the shroud of con-fl icting and confusing reports since October 9, the invasion forces of General Douglas MacArthur now stood plainly on the stage. Well over seven hundred vessels—including six battleships—were gathered east of Leyte and the gulf entrance alone, while beyond Suluan island over the horizon to the northeast stood the four fast-carrier task groups and screen of Vice Admiral William F. Halsey’s Task Force 38. Swarms of aircraft patrolled overhead, while others lined up in forma-tion to support the invasion as the landing craft surged toward the beaches from 420 transports. Four American divisions would be landing, and their ar-rival announced in no uncertain terms the fulfi llment of MacArthur’s dramatic pledge “I shall return” made in 1942. Then it had been the Americans that had been fi ghting in vain to somehow marshal enough strength to withstand inva-sion by overwhelmingly powerful forces. Now the proverbial shoe was on the other foot.1

At 1000 hours, precisely on schedule, the fi rst landing ramps dropped and the soldiers dashed through the waves onto the beach. Four hours later Mac-Arthur emerged from his cabin on the light cruiser Nashville, to descend into a waiting landing craft, where he was joined by the president of the Philippines, Sergio Osmena. The beach was already so crowded there was no room to land at the pier, and the harried beach master directing the landings indicated that if MacArthur was going to come ashore, he was going to have to walk. With little ado, General MacArthur had the ramp dropped, waved for Os-mena and his staff to follow, and took the momentous step into the knee-deep water. While all around watched, with grim resolve he waded through the Leyte surf and swaggered onto the beach. An inspiring scene, so inspiring that it was repeated for the benefi t of more fi lm crews at a later hour. Yet the fi rst ar-

16 · Battle of Surigao Strait

rival itself was recorded and remains a decisive moment in history. His pants were still damp when MacArthur was handed a temporary microphone and an-nounced: “People of the Philippines. I have returned. Rally to me. Let the in-domitable spirit of Bataan and Corregidor lead on.”2

In hindsight, and conditioned as we are by the drama of the scene and what followed, though it seems hard to imagine otherwise, there had been no guarantee that MacArthur would be allowed to fulfi ll his famous 1942 vow. After the capture of Saipan conceivably the Philippines could have been bypassed entirely as had been done to the great Japanese bases at Truk andRabaul—both cut off from supplies and air support and their garrisons left to wither on the vine. After all, the primary goal of both the Central Pacifi c cam-paign of Admiral Chester W. Nimitz and the Southwest Pacifi c campaign of MacArthur was to converge on Japan’s inner defense sphere, to cut the supply chain of bases between Japan and its southern oil territories, to build air bases for heavy bombers in range to pound Japan, and ultimately, if necessary, to in-vade the home islands to compel complete surrender. From Pearl Harbor Admiral Nimitz’s forces, primarily the marines and the navy, had been working eastward since the battle of Midway in what was termed the Central Pacifi c drive. They started at Guadalcanal and then sprang to the Gilbert Islands, with operations following through the Marshalls, the Marianas, and the Western Carolines, with such bloody clashes as Tarawa in the mix. At the same time, in the drive up from the Southwest Pacifi c MacAr-thur was waging the bloody fi ght to secure New Guinea, and then up through New Georgia and thence to the Philippines. The capture of Saipan had marked the converging of these two campaigns; the next big one would involve both heretofore distinct supreme commands. Saipan’s fall had gone far toward meeting the main criteria for the next phase. The airfi elds in Saipan were both in range and large enough to accommo-date the heavy B-29 “Superfortress” bombers that would begin the pounding of Japan and the Asian coast. The U.S. Navy’s fast carriers were capable of sup-porting an invasion force wherever it might be sent, and between them the army and marines could pretty much take anything selected. The upshot was that the Joint Chiefs were presented with three main choices to invade next, just as the Japanese had foreseen and attempted to counter with a “Sho” plan number for each. Concerned with fulfi lling his pledge to return to the Philippines and the impact of liberation, MacArthur pressed for the Philippines. Admiral Nimitz and his superior Admiral King pre-ferred a direct advance from the Marianas to Formosa and the Chinese coast, and then to Japan. Strong strategic reasons existed to consider invading For-mosa, which was closer to the Japanese homeland; if successful, such an in-

“I have returned.” · 17

vasion could shorten the war. A dramatic conference at Pearl Harbor held by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in late July between Nimitz and MacArthur failed to resolve the impasse conclusively. The Joint Chiefs worked out a compromise on September 1. After the Western Carolines wrapped up, a “partial” invasion of the Philippines would follow. The Allies would fi rst invade Mindanao in November to set up air bases, and then go ahead with invading Leyte the next month. Then, if practical, Lu-zon with its massed defenses and Yamashita’s army would be skipped. MacAr-thur, who was eager to liberate the whole archipelago, especially the capital, Manila, found even this hard to stomach, but he accepted it as tolerable and submitted plans. He rightly felt that once they captured Leyte and the central Philippines there would be momentum to liberate Luzon. The invasion date for Leyte was tentatively set for December 20, 1944.3

Whether Formosa or Leyte would be the next target remained in ques-tion until the debate was resolved by an important report and recommendation from Admiral Halsey in September. Preliminary and punishing strikes against the Philippines and Formosa areas designed with both possibilities in mind had met with such astonishingly weak resistance that Halsey was convinced the Philippines lay wide open. The Allies had a golden opportunity to speed up the war schedule. On September 13 Halsey advocated forgetting about Mindanao and going right for Leyte in the heart of the Philippines, and what was more, doing it in October, two months earlier than planned. Halsey said his carriers could handle the initial air-cover needs. The combined weight of MacArthur’s infl uence and Halsey’s bold memo coalesced with the international political considerations to tip the balance. On October 3 the Joint Chiefs issued the di-rective to forgo Mindanao completely and to seize Leyte, ahead of schedule on October 20, 1944. In the end, MacArthur’s pledge had become self-fulfi lling prophecy; many felt American prestige would suffer too much if the islands were by-passed and the Philippine people left to languish for months, maybe a year longer under Japanese occupation. Therefore the combined strength of the United States Army and Navy from both Pacifi c theaters of operation was committed to the single goal of taking Leyte. It was indeed a massive affair, and for once the Japa-nese intelligence reports proved to be only slightly exaggerating the strength the Allies had brought to liberate the Philippines. For the invasion of Leyte General MacArthur, commander in chief South-west Pacifi c Forces, had under his command 200,000 men of General Walter Kreuger’s Sixth Army. MacArthur also had at his disposal Lieutenant General George C. Kenney’s Fifth Air Force, with over 2,500 planes in its inventory. In fact, one of the purposes of the Leyte invasion was to obtain possession of the

18 · Battle of Surigao Strait

airfi elds for Kenney to move his bombers and fi ghters there to take over the job of providing air cover for the Philippine campaign. Kreuger’s army was divided into two main amphibious groups, which would make two separate but closely adjacent landings, both on the eastern shore at Leyte Gulf. TF 79 carrying Major General Sibert’s X Corps would go ashore near Tacloban, the ancient Philippine capital. TF 78 would land Major General Hodge’s XXIV Corps at Dulag, some 10 miles south of Tacloban. Each of the landings would be cov-ered by its own fi re support force of battleships, cruisers, and destroyers. Their bombardments would try to “soften” the beach defenses and cover the landings once in progress against attacks from air and sea.4

Three battleships, heavy and light cruisers, and about ten destroyers made up each fi re support group, and all were under the command of Rear Admiral Jesse B. Oldendorf, commanding the Bombardment and Fire Support Group. There was also the Close Covering Group of Rear Admiral Russell S. Berkey with cruisers and destroyers. Thirty-nine PT boats under Commander Selman S. Bowling rounded out the ensemble. All three forces should be borne in mind as they would play the chief Allied role in the battle of Surigao Strait.5

Between them these amphibious forces alone boasted 738 ships, nearly 100 of them combat vessels, the rest transports and auxiliaries. Almost 500 aircraft were available from the amphibious forces’ small escort carriers. This armada was the so-called MacArthur’s Navy, the famous Seventh Fleet of Vice Admi-ral Thomas C. Kinkaid. Kinkaid’s fl eet had been there from the start of MacAr-thur’s steady and inexorable “island hopping” campaign as his forces based in Australia, together with Australian and New Zealand forces, slowly but surely rolled up the Japanese line in the Southwest Pacifi c. Kinkaid’s force was so substantial that he even carried his own air cover, so vital to the success of any amphibious operation of this scale. No less than eigh-teen escort carriers under Rear Admiral Thomas L. Sprague in three groups stood just outside Leyte Gulf off Samar to provide the close air support re-quired. Effective in this role, Sprague’s ships were nonetheless too slow, its air-craft too few, its screen too weak to be asked to defend itself or the beachhead against a major Japanese fl eet or carrier attack. Nor was it expected to do so. That task fell to Admiral Halsey’s Third Fleet and its crack Task Force 38, whose carrier groups under Rear Admiral Marc A. Mitscher had just fi nished savaging the Japanese land-based air in the battle of Formosa. Now they were hovering like a menacing monsoon in the open waters of the Philippine Sea. Three mighty task forces, a single one far superior to Ozawa’s Main Force even if that force’s embarked aircraft had been at full strength, stood ready to crush any Japanese fl eet that came into range of its swarms of aircraft. Rear Admiral Frederick C. Sherman’s TF 38.3, with two fl eet carriers and two light carriers,

“I have returned.” · 19

held the northern position off Luzon. Rear Admiral Gerald F. Bogan’s 38.2’s three fl eet and one light carrier hovered east of San Bernardino Strait. Also with Bogan was Halsey himself, fl ying his fl ag in the mighty modern battle-ship New Jersey with its sister Iowa. The third task group on station, Rear Ad-miral Ralph E. Davison’s 38.4, stood off east of Leyte. It boasted only two fl eet carriers with two light carriers, but one of these was the famous veteran carrier Enterprise. At one time Enterprise with a few other hard-pressed ships had carried al-most the entire burden of the Guadalcanal campaign, and carried it well. Now it had been somewhat outpaced by its younger rivals of the Essex-class, but its air group still had plenty of fi ght, and most important, experience, to con-tribute. Appropriately perhaps, Enterprise would strike the only blow against the Nishimura force before the battle of Surigao Strait. Finally TF 38’s screen, in addition to the battleships, comprised seventeen cruisers and fi fty-eight de-stroyers. Such was this assemblage of strength that Halsey had felt content to release a fourth such task group of two fl eet and three light carriers and their screen from the front lines to return to Ulithi to replenish. This was Rear Admi-ral John S. McCain’s TF 38.1, which will be encountered in the closing phases of the battle as it rushes back to participate.6

Striking at the Japanese fl eet was a priority and preference for both Halsey and his superior Nimitz. However, this priority competed with, and was per-haps even superseded by, another vital task. To invade Leyte in October, Mac-Arthur and Kinkaid had been forced to risk doing so beyond the range of Mac-Arthur’s land-based air cover. This was a major difference from MacArthur’s previous operations, and was agreed to only because he had been assured by Nimitz and Washington that the U.S. Navy’s fast carriers were capable of pro-viding such protection to an acceptable degree on a temporary basis. How-ever, this did not trump (though it arguably should have) TF 38’s standing in-struction that if “the opportunity arose” to destroy the Japanese Mobile Fleet it should do so.7 MacArthur and Kinkaid felt the opposite; the entire invasion could be put in jeopardy if air cover failed or was withdrawn too soon. This confl ict of interest and preferences would weigh heavily in the coming battle of Leyte Gulf and infl uence deployments for the battle of Surigao Strait.

The Allied troops had been splashing ashore for two hours when the large Japanese battle fl eet sent to destroy them began dropping anchors in Borneo’s wide Brunei Bay. Kurita’s First Striking Force (1YB) had taken up their assigned positions when a message sent at 1006 arrived from Toyoda’s chief of staff, Kusaka. When Kurita received the message that afternoon it caused a fl urry in his staff. Kusaka said Combined Fleet “had concluded that it would be pref-

20 · Battle of Surigao Strait

erable to proceed to, and break into, the enemy anchorage in two groups—one from the north through San Bernardino Strait and the other from the south through Surigao Strait [in other words a double penetration]—rather than to approach with the whole force as a unit.”8 That is, Kusaka recommended a re-vision to change the thrust into Leyte Gulf into a pincer movement. Vice Ad-miral Ugaki’s way of referring to it was offhand: “[Kusaka] sent detailed stud-ies of the penetrating operation just for ‘information’. It was quite signifi cant to notice that the commander, Battleship Division 1 [i.e., Ugaki himself] was in-cluded in the list of those to whom a copy of the telegram was sent.”9 It would be interesting to know if commander, Battleship Division 2 (Batdiv 2), was on that list. Though couched as a “preference” and “suggestion for consideration” it would determine the destiny of Battleship Division 2’s commander, Vice Ad-miral Shoji Nishimura, and those who served him. This fateful suggestion by Toyoda’s chief of staff at 1006 October 20 led directly to the surface battle of Surigao Strait.

During this time, far north, Shima’s 2YB was busily engaged in refueling, having arrived at Mako at 0830 that morning from Amami-Oshima. Now Shima was waiting while Combined Fleet and Manila’s staffs argued about Toyoda’s latest order to Mikawa. Shortly after midnight of October 19, after mulling Mikawa’s suggestion to attach Shima to Ozawa or Kurita (see last chapter), Toyoda had peremptorily made dispatch No. 362, insisting that Mikawa, “after consultation” with Yamashita, have Shima go ahead with counter-landing op-erations “as speedily as possible.”10 This amounted to telling Mikawa how he should deploy his forces. Important to notice is at this time Kusaka’s “suggestion” to Kurita to con-sider a double penetration by 1YB via Surigao Strait had not yet been made. These discussions about 2YB were independent of the former, which goes along way to explaining the confused planning that ensued. Tempting to wonder is if Kusaka’s “suggestion” to 1YB grew out of staff work from Manila’s offer to make Shima available to support Kurita. The timing may be signifi cant. Mikawa seems to have found this order vexing. He was convinced that Sakonjo’s small Aoba force could handle the projected counter-landing assign-ment of 2,000 men, leaving Shima free to enter battle. To make sure, Mikawa at 1340 radioed Sakonjo at Brunei to report available space on his three ships. Meanwhile, he checked with Yamashita’s command on how many men they really expected to move. Forty-fi ve minutes later, he radioed back to Toyoda that they were still “conferring” with the army. Three minutes later, as if tiring of the wireless game with Toyoda, at 1428 Mikawa radioed Shima and Sakonjo that orders to stand by at Mako and Brunei

“I have returned.” · 21

respectively were canceled. Henceforth, Shima was free to operate as he saw fi t.11 This was not what Tokyo had really instructed. Mikawa’s chief of staff also advised Shima that he should proceed to Manila or send a staff offi cer by air to confer. The ball was now in Shima’s court to decide how to handle future op-erations and argue on his own behalf. Shima did not miss the opening. Taking the hint, Shima took it upon him-self to (a) at 1755 order Sakonjo on Aoba to carry out “direct” discussions with Yamashita’s Army HQ and handle counter-landing arrangements instead and (b) at 1806 to signal his opinion—tantamount to a request—that any trooping duty be left to Sakonjo’s Cruiser Division 16. Meanwhile, he wanted to “operate separately and penetrate Leyte Gulf at dawn 25th with 1YB.”12 Shima was say-ing 2YB would be better employed supporting Kurita, but was also saying he wanted to do it separately. Shima’s chief of staff, Rear Admiral Takeshi Matsumoto, had drawn up well-reasoned arguments. So optimistic was Shima that they were winning ar-guments that he had Matsumoto dispatch a preliminary schedule and plan of attack to Kurita at Brunei, outlining in what way 2YB hoped to participate in the battle. They would head south next morning and, after refueling at Coron, penetrate Leyte Gulf from the south through Surigao Strait.13

Worth noting is that Shima intended to attack the transports around 0430 in conjunction with Kurita’s 1YB, thus plugging 2YB into the original Sho-1 plan. No mention or hint of Nishimura and his later mission has yet appeared. As far as can be determined, Shima and his chief of staff were the fi rst to sug-gest 2YB going thru Surigao Strait. It is unknown if this had inspiration from Kusaka’s 1006 “suggestion” that morning. For Shima to ask for this task was a brave and determined action. To plan on forcing Surigao Strait with his modest force alone in the circumstances was equal parts boldness and recklessness. It must be stressed that Shima did not know of any other force so assigned at this juncture. This point should be borne in mind when considering some of the criticism directed at his decisions later. So confi dent was Shima of receiving ap-proval to join Kurita that at 1852 he advised all commands that he would depart at 0700 October 21 and proceed south. He expected Tokyo to concur. Finally, he had an ace in the hole: the vice chief of the Navy General Staff, Seiichi Ito, was a classmate of Shima’s.14

In support, Sakonjo chimed in at 1823 on October 20 to report that Aoba could carry 1,200 soldiers, Kinu 500, and Uranami 200. This confi rmed Shima and Mikawa’s opinion that Sakonjo could handle the transport duty alone, but it seemed to have no effect. The hours dragged by, and no release was received. Toyoda had in fact assumed direct command of both Kurita’s 1YB and Ozawa’s Main Force only four minutes before Shima dispatched his arguments. For

22 · Battle of Surigao Strait

some time, his hands were full while he was catching up. Shima became in-creasingly pensive but remained hopeful that no news was good news. Shima was thoroughly familiar with staff work and how long it could take to sort out confl icting options. A talented man, Shima had graduated the Na-val War College in 1911 from the same class as Nishimura. He was an expert in communications and for most of his career was in staff work: department chief in naval general staff and vice president/president of communications school were among the postings. A colleague said, “He was of gentle character and well suited to planning works on land. He never had experiences in command-ing a fi rst line fl eet, much less in night battles which required bold and aggres-sive battles royal. He was not good at such melees.”15 Apparently this gentle character made him forgiving; during the battle of Surigao chief of staff Mat-sumoto would commit a blatant insubordinate act, but Shima would let his de-cision stand unrebuked. Shima was classmates with Nishimura and junior in rank to him until November 15, 1933, when he was promoted to captain. In this capacity, he served as resident naval offi cer in Manchuria through 1934. After that, Shima took over command of the cruiser Oi. Tenures as com-mander of cruiser divisions 19 and 16 until September 1943 followed; in May 1943, Shima was promoted to vice admiral.16 After came shore duty through the winter as director of the Yokosuka communications school; on February 15, 1944, he received command of the Fifth Fleet. Despite his “gentle character,” he could also be “a direct and forceful man with a strong handshake.”17 He now showed this side instead as he pressed to participate in Sho-1. Curiously, some Japanese sources hint at a certain reticence and timidity in Shima’s character. Given what has been discovered, the historian has to wonder if this view is colored by hindsight. Certainly this view is hard to square with the overt and persistent way Shima lobbied to be assigned to what would likely become a one-way tokko (special/suicide) mission to charge into Leyte Gulf. Still expecting approval from Toyoda, at 1930 Shima had Matsumoto send inquiry about Kurita’s planned movements so that 2YB could cooperate with 1YB. A major fl y in the ointment appeared a half hour later. Mikawa’s chief Hidehiko announced a request that had been received from Field Marshal Hisaichi Terauchi’s Southern Army, asking that 2YB’s cruisers be directed to transport the 68th Brigade presently in Formosa. Shima was to “bear this in mind.” The message between the lines was strong argument for him to stay in the Formosa area. As if to further test Shima’s patience, he then received a signal sent from Formosa at 2030 asking him to detach three destroyers to move equipment and aviation personnel for the Second Air Fleet’s move to Luzon.18

“I have returned.” · 23

This would reduce his torpedo and gun strength considerably and was not consistent with plans to let 2YB storm Leyte Gulf. His initial optimism began to wane. Finally, at 2340 Shima canceled his plans to sortie in the morning. For now he had to wait. At Manila, Mikawa had not stopped pitching for Shima to enter battle. He strongly agreed 2YB would be better employed in the Sho-1 op-eration and had simply been advising Shima to “stay put” until he could get the counter-landing orders overturned. Overhearing the latest traffi c at 2137 Oc-tober 20, Mikawa’s chief of staff sent an opinion to Imperial General HQ, Navy Section, that Shima would have liked to hear: “Southern Army has requested transport of 68th Brigade in Formosa for counter-landing operations by 2YB. This HQ considers it better to use 2YB in battle, instead.”19

At Brunei, Kurita probably intercepted some of the traffi c between Ma-nila, Tokyo, and 2YB and was therefore vaguely aware that Shima’s fl eet might join him in the assault operations. If this happened, it favored Kusaka’s idea to divide 1YB. Shima’s force would need bolstering with at least some of Kurita’s fl eet. Otherwise the penetration would be too weak. Since Shima surely would be destroyed trying to force Surigao alone, Kurita did not understand what Headquarters had been thinking. Meanwhile, knowing Cruiser Division 16 would be needed on short no-tice, Kurita at 1824 ordered Sakonjo’s ships to refuel from Yamashiro and Fuso. Thus by eerie coincidence, Batdiv 2 was brought into association—albeit only physical—with a segment of 2YB before it received its own fateful orders. Ku-rita’s timing was perfect. In the early hours of October 21 came orders that Sakonjo was to consult with the army and carry out the fi rst movement of troop reinforcements to Leyte. A fl urry of messages continued to come in, but it was well after dawn Oc-tober 21 before word came from 2YB of their itinerary if they joined Kurita. The message was very delayed, being sent at 1932 the prior night but not received until 0940. Shima was advising that if he got the go-ahead to move on Leyte, 2YB would steam so as to be 20 miles south of Mindoro at 1500 on October 23. Shima would be proceeding at 16 knots and a day later would pass through the western entrance of the Mindanao Sea on the way to Surigao Strait. Accord-ingly, he was requesting information as to the scheduled course and times of Kurita’s coming voyage. It does seem to have crystallized Kurita’s acceptance of the Kusaka “pincers” suggestion.20

The issues to plan were piling up fast, not a few of them being these sud-den additions to already intricate and well-fi xed plans. At 1020 Kurita ordered that all unit commanders, destroyer commanders, and their staff offi cers gather aboard fl agship Atago for a full staff meeting that afternoon, which would com-

24 · Battle of Surigao Strait

mence at 1700 hours. He would present his fi nal decisions and plans then. With the arrival of two tankers at 1120, the refueling of the big ships began.

While 1YB refueled, 2YB had fi nished its own refueling at Mako. At noon October 21 Commander Hisashi Ishii’s Destroyer Division 21 with fl agship Wakaba, Hatsuharu, and Hatsushimo departed for Takao to assist in the move-ment of the 2nd Air Fleet’s equipment. Their offi cers were grumbling about being sent on transport duty when most of the Imperial Navy was headed for battle.21

On heavy cruiser Nachi, Shima was not much happier than his destroyer men. After a delay of nearly half a day he had not received the orders and reply he expected from his proposal the previous night. Instead, early in the after-noon Tokyo advised Shima and Sakonjo “2YB will advance to Manila by early morning, October 23, at the latest.” The message had been sent at 1251 and was telling Aoba’s admiral that his boss Shima would join him at Manila Bay early on the 23rd. Shima was still stuck with transport duty.22

Too dedicated an offi cer to express it, Shima must have been disgusted at events. His plea to join Kurita had been dismissed without comment. Shima had made his play, and it had fallen short. He was resigned to the situation, but Mikawa did not give up. Despite his “washing hands” of the prior matter, he continued to beat the proverbial dead horse. At 1322 Mikawa zipped off an-other strong recommendation about how Shima should be employed. His tone to his superiors was almost a demand: “Fifth Fleet 2YB should support 1YB.” Time was running short. Each hour brought 2YB into fuller commitment, and Kurita’s force was nearly beyond the ability to alter any plans.23

Another snag had appeared. As Mikawa had foreseen, the army was not fi nding it practical, or desirable, to transport troops from the Manila area on short notice. Instead, there was a possibility of moving some troops from the region of Cagayan on Mindanao island. The truth was that Yamashita op-posed the change from Luzon to Leyte as the place to fi ght the “decisive land battle” and was against stripping any forces from Luzon, although he was will-ing to accept draining some from Mindanao. As the afternoon of October 21 waned, it was determined that this transfer would amount to two army battal-ions and that Sakonjo’s ships would probably suffi ce after all—the same con-clusion reached the night of October 19. Unaware of this yet, the two sections of 2YB got underway that afternoon.24

At 1600, an hour ahead of schedule, Shima departed Mako bound for Ma-nila to arrive by 0700 October 23 via Coron. With the detachment of Destroyer Division 21, it had attained its fi nal strength of two heavy cruisers (Nachi, Ashigara), one light cruiser (Abukuma), and four destroyers (Shiranuhi, Ka-

“I have returned.” · 25

sumi, Akebono, Ushio). An hour later Sakonjo departed also for Manila from Brunei with Aoba, Kinu, and Uranami. As things stood, Sakonjo would join Shima there at 0800 October 23 to report for counter-landing operations. If it seems a questionable use of the potential of fi ve cruisers and eight destroyers, none wondered more than Gunichi Mikawa. Mikawa was a cruiser veteran himself, hero of Savo island, one of the IJN’s greatest victories and the USN’s worst defeats. This might explain the tenacity with which he prodded Toyoda to revise the orders from the start. At 1914, Mi-kawa made a fi nal stab, having his chief of staff reiterate his most recent signal: “Same opinion still held [as at 1322] . . . it is the opinion of this HQ that . . . [2YB] should come under 1YB command and take part in the decisive battle opera-tions by penetrating through Surigao Strait.”25

One can almost picture the harassed commander in chief and his staff chief that evening when they received this latest prodding from Manila HQ. Toyoda must have fi guratively thrown up his hands in exasperation. About an hour past midnight he received confi rmation that Southern Army had opted to use only Crudiv 16 to transport two army battalions from Cagayan. There was little point to further argument. Chief Kusaka, for his part, probably real-ized Shima made a natural supplement to his “suggestion” to Kurita. The point was conceded. A reply basically restating Mikawa’s suggestion as the fi nal or-ders was shunted back to Manila around 0900 for relay to Shima: “This head-quarters concurs in the employment of 2YB (less Crudiv 16) in the impend-ing SHO Operation to support the 1YB penetration.” Toyoda then washed his hands of the matter. He probably little imagined that the deployment of such a modest force would cause such a bother.26

Mikawa was satisfi ed; it seemed the best use of 2YB, as he had urged from the beginning. There remained one small point. It made little sense now for Shima to stay under Mikawa’s command. He suggested that Shima be put back under Ozawa, or perhaps Kurita—anywhere but under Southwest Area Fleet command. Toyoda refused to address this message. Supposedly staff at Hiyoshi be-lieved that 2YB was too slender in strength to make much difference if added to Kurita’s command. Also, simply the act of incorporating Shima might con-fuse and delay Kurita. It would dangerously increase the amount of radio traf-fi c, and enough might be intercepted by the Americans to divulge the plan of attack and intentions. Finally, Fourteenth Army might still need counter- landing operations. For all these reasons, Toyoda left Shima and 2YB under Southwest Area Fleet, that is, not under either Kurita or Ozawa. The reasons given are plausible, but essentially Mikawa had violated the axiom by failing to quit while ahead.

26 · Battle of Surigao Strait

It seems likely Toyoda’s staff simply wearied of Mikawa’s micro-managing from Manila, and fi rmed up its plans. Too much last-minute variation could unravel the whole scheme. In any case, Mikawa was left in the dark and re-ceived no answer. It was Haragei—rebuke by silence. 2YB remained his respon-sibility. Having received no reply to his last signal, Mikawa fi nalized orders for Shima and next morning relayed Combined Fleet’s message to support Kurita. Shima got it shortly before noon. Of course, Shima had as much cause for ire as Tokyo. As IJN historian Masanori Ito put it, “The ships of this fl eet had been so shifted and shunted about from area to area that Shima would have been justifi ed if he had com-plained of being treated like a stepchild.”27 True as that may be, by midday Oc-tober 22 the “stepchild fl eet” at last received defi nite orders to attack MacAr-thur’s beachheads via Surigao Strait. By that time, however, a second and more powerful force had independently been given the same assignment.

At Brunei by the time of the big conference he had called for 1700 Oc-tober 21, Kurita had decided to go ahead and split his force, sending a segment via the Sulu Sea and Surigao Strait to Leyte Gulf. For the mission he selected the recently reactivated Second Battleship Division. Led by Vice Admiral Shoji Nishimura, Battleship Division 2 (Batdiv 2) comprised the two oldest dread-noughts in the Imperial Navy, Yamashiro and Fuso. As will be revealed, there was more to the selection than meets the eye. Kurita’s fi nal decision probably came after 0920, when he received the projected itinerary of how 2YB would move on Surigao Strait. The clue is provided by a 1208 message from Kurita requesting that buoys be placed to mark the route through Balabac Strait into the Sulu Sea.28

At the meeting Kurita would reveal his intentions, and especially discuss these recent changes to be made to the original plans. Kurita showed a ten-dency to hold his thoughts “close to the vest,” and this was no exception. At the conference and not before, he would lay out his plans and expectations. That same hour saw the departure of another group that until recently had been under his command: Vice Admiral Naomasa Sakonjo’s Cruiser Division 16. Now renamed “Southwest Area Guard Force”—to Sakonjo had fallen the entire responsibility for the counter-landings. First, at Manila he would meet fast naval transports, which would carry the troops. These were part of the First Transportation Squadron, which had been assigned to Sakonjo for the dura-tion. Together, after fi rst embarking troops at Cagayan, Mindanao, all would make their way in three echelons to Ormoc, Leyte.29 At 1710 Aoba, Kinu, and Uranami sailed out of the sunset-painted waters of Brunei Bay. At this point,

“I have returned.” · 27

Sakonjo’s Southwest Area Guard Force largely passes out of the narrative of di-rect involvement with either Nishimura or Shima.30

Passing the outbound Sakonjo, two future members of Nishimura’s group had just returned from an abortive foray. The Yamagumo and Asagumo of De-stroyer Division 4 had been sent out at 1150 to search for overdue tankers. Hav-ing missed and passed them coming in, they spent the afternoon wandering the ocean in vain—while the tankers were sitting safe in Brunei Bay. Yama-gumo’s Ono Shiro’s mixture of frustration and relief on seeing them already in port, as he took his ship alongside the towering Yamashiro to refuel, can only be imagined. Asagumo did the same from Fuso. In the meantime Kurita’s mo-mentous conference had gotten underway aboard fl agship Atago. The heaviness in the air was tangible as Operations Commander Tonosuke Otani revealed to those gathered that Tacloban anchorage was to be the main target. As he spoke, the written orders Kurita had approved were handed out. Given their scale and importance, the orders were brief, terse, and more than a little vague in their conciseness: in accordance with Toyoda’s No. 363 order the Kurita fl eet “in cooperation with the base air forces and the Main Force [ Ozawa’s carriers], will penetrate to the Tacloban area at dawn [0427] on X-day (October 25). It will fi rst attack and destroy enemy surface forces in the area and will then annihilate the enemy landing forces.”31

These operations would generally follow outlines from mid-September but with the addition and innovation of detaching Nishimura’s Batdiv 2 to pene-trate Surigao Strait on its own to fulfi ll Kusaka’s suggestion. “Nishimura lis-tened without showing any reaction,” but many of Kurita’s staff began to pro-test the lack of air cover. He silenced them.32

Kurita faced the offi cers somberly. “I know that many of you are strongly opposed to this assignment. But the war situation is far more critical than any of you can possibly know. Would it not be a shame to have the fl eet remain in-tact while our nation perishes?” He glanced around seeing the concern and dismay, some with a skeptical posture and others frustrated. “You must all re-member that there are such things as miracles. What man can say that there is no chance for our fl eet to turn the tide of war in a decisive battle? We shall have a chance to meet our enemies. We shall engage his task forces. I hope that you will not carry out your duties lightly. I know that you will act faithfully and well.”33

In response, as if signaled to do so, the men bolted to attention. Hopeful again and fi lled with resolve, as one they shouted: “Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!” With all inspired to new enthusiasm, the conference adjourned after 1900, and offi cers returned to their ships for a farewell round of drinks and toasts. A post-

28 · Battle of Surigao Strait

conference banquet with chilled sake and surume was held on Atago for the brass. Kurita, Nishimura, and their staffs withdrew for a time to the offi cers’ lounge for champagne and private discussion. After a toast to the success of the mission, they rejoined the others. As he made small talk with the offi cers, “Nishimura was seen smiling.” When concerns were expressed, Nishimura waved it away. “Bah. We will do our best.”34

At 2053, as part of the fi nalized orders, Kurita’s instructions for Nishimura were handed to him. These would guide Nishimura’s subsequent planning. His Third Section of Battleship Division 2, cruiser Mogami and destroyers Michishio, Asagumo, Yamagumo, and Shigure, would advance via the Sulu Sea to arrive at the western entrance of the Mindanao Sea at sunset [1820] on Oc-tober 24. Then “in coordination with” Kurita’s main group, Nishimura would “pass through Surigao Strait and penetrate into the anchorage at dawn [0427] on X-day [October 25].”35

This meant Nishimura was expected to take two old battleships, a veteran heavy cruiser, and four destroyers through Surigao Strait in the face of what-ever enemy opposition was offered. If they broke through, upon arriving off Tacloban they were to fall on enemy transports anchored off the beaches. The time of attack was before sunrise by about ninety minutes to two hours, with the sky beginning to lighten around 0530. That it would be a diffi cult, if not potentially suicidal, assignment was obvious, and more than a few viewed it as a one-way mission. Vital to realize is that at 2100 October 21, Kurita did not know for sure if Shima’s fl eet would also head for Surigao. If he had overheard the afternoon’s traffi c, he thought Shima was instead due to meet Sakonjo at Manila. Kurita was not part of the discussions, and not till next morning did Toyoda agree to let 2YB join the attack on Leyte Gulf. Shima would not receive the fi nal go-ahead till midday October 22, which is probably when Kurita also learned it. Therefore Kurita’s plans for Nishimura could not have taken Shima into ac-count other than in a general way. Only Toyoda’s staff was in a position to co-ordinate such, and it did not. The independent handling of the two forces has long puzzled historians, but some understanding can come from holding onto this basic point: Nishimura’s orders were not drafted with Shima’s 2YB explicitly in mind. Nishimura had in fact already sortied, or was about to sortie, when he learned otherwise. With this plan fi xed, the divided units prepared to sortie the next day: Kurita’s in the morning and Nishimura’s in the afternoon.