Operation Storm: Japan's Top Secret Submarines and Its Plan to Change the Course of World War II Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by John Geoghegan

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Crown Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  www.crownpublishing.com

  CROWN and the Crown colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on request.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-46481-1

  Illustrations by Emil Petrinic

  Jacket design by Eric White

  v3.1

  For Emma and Nina,

  because it’s always better to know

  both sides

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Principal Actors

  Map

  PART I PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1 FACE-OFF

  Chapter 2 THE I-401

  PART II PREPARATION

  Chapter 3 BIRTH

  Chapter 4 NAMBU

  Chapter 5 UNDERWATER AIRCRAFT CARRIERS

  Chapter 6 PROOF OF CONCEPT

  Chapter 7 CHALLENGES

  PART III COMPLICATIONS

  Chapter 8 REDUCTION AND REVIVAL

  Chapter 9 NAMBU UNDER FIRE

  Chapter 10 NAMBU BECOMES A MOLE

  Chapter 11 SEIRAN TAKES FLIGHT

  Chapter 12 THE PANAMA CANAL

  Chapter 13 ARIIZUMI

  Chapter 14 ARIIZUMI UNDER FIRE

  Chapter 15 THE SEGUNDO (SS 398)

  Chapter 16 DECLINE

  PART IV THE MISSION

  Chapter 17 NAMBU AND THE I-401 141

  Chapter 18 THE 631ST

  Chapter 19 FULP ON PATROL

  Chapter 20 KURE

  Chapter 21 ADVERSITY

  Chapter 22 ATTACKING THE CANAL

  Chapter 23 GREEN LIGHT

  Chapter 24 FULP’S LAST PATROL

  Chapter 25 NANAO BAY

  Chapter 26 THE TASTE OF PERSIMMON

  Photo Insert

  Chapter 27 JOHNSON TAKES COMMAND

  Chapter 28 OPERATION STORM

  PART V RACE AGAINST TIME

  Chapter 29 DEPARTURE

  Chapter 30 UNDER WAY

  Chapter 31 CROSSED WIRES

  Chapter 32 THE EMPEROR’S VOICE

  Chapter 33 ANARCHY

  Chapter 34 ESCAPE

  Chapter 35 INTERCEPTION

  Chapter 36 SPOILS OF WAR

  Chapter 37 RECKONING

  Chapter 38 BOARDING PARTY

  Chapter 39 THE TENTH WAR GOD

  Chapter 40 BITTERSWEET

  Chapter 41 FREEDOM

  Chapter 42 THE LONG ROAD HOME

  Chapter 43 REDISCOVERY

  EPILOGUE

  Acknowledgments

  Notes

  Sources

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Under the supervision of the Demobilization Bureau, the basic material contained in this monograph was compiled and written in Japanese by former officers … The paucity of original orders, plans and unit journals, which are normally essential in the preparation of this type of record, most of which were lost or destroyed during field operations or bombing raids rendered the task of compilation most difficult … However, while many of the important orders, plans and estimates have been reconstructed from memory and therefore are not textually identical with the original, they are believed to be generally accurate and reliable.

  —Japanese Operational Monograph, JAPANESE RESEARCH DIVISION, MILITARY HISTORY SECTION, HEADQUARTERS, ARMY FORCES FAR EAST, 1946, PREFACE, P. V.

  RASHOMON IS A JAPANESE TERM THAT DESCRIBES HOW DIFFERENT witnesses to the same event can shape its story differently, based on individual perception. Rashomon also applies to the history of the I-400 submarines because the memories of their officers and crew sometimes differ. As the preface to the Allied monograph on Japanese military history indicates above, many Japanese records were destroyed during or immediately after the war. As a result, I have relied primarily on first-person accounts either oral or written. When accounts differ, I have indicated the differences in a footnote.

  Additionally, Japanese records show an event happening a day later than U.S. records. This is because Japanese time is 13 to 16 hours ahead of U.S. time, depending on the U.S. time zone and daylight savings. For example, the attack on Pearl Harbor happened on Monday, December 8, in Japan, but the date is emblazoned in American memory as Sunday, December 7. The fact that many Japanese records were lost, or intentionally destroyed, at the end of the war means dates can be difficult to establish. When dates are in conflict or doubt, a footnote explains the difference. Any errors are my own.

  Finally, Japanese names appear in Western style, with the family name coming last. In the interest of simplicity, I have also omitted any macrons. Ages are also stated in Western terms. (Prior to World War II, Japanese children were considered one year old when they were born.) And though the Japanese do not refer to ships as male or female, I have done so throughout the text to maintain consistency with Western convention.

  PRINCIPAL ACTORS

  IMPERIAL JAPANESE NAVY

  (IJN, OR DAI-NIPPON TEIKOKU KAIGUN)

  NAVAL GENERAL STAFF (GUNREIBU)

  • Cdr. Yasuo Fujimori, staff officer submarines. He was dedicated to steering the I-400 program through a hostile bureaucracy.

  • Cdr. Shojiro Iura, staff officer submarines. He opposed the I-400 program, even though he wanted to bomb Oregon.

  COMBINED FLEET (RENGO KANTAI)

  • Adm. Isoroku Yamamoto, commander in chief of the Combined Fleet. He dreamed up the I-400 submarines as a follow-up punch to Pearl Harbor.

  • Capt. Kamato Kurojima, Yamamoto’s chief staff officer. He helped make sure a resistant naval bureaucracy built Yamamoto’s underwater aircraft carriers.

  SIXTH FLEET (IJN SUBMARINE FORCE, OR Dai-roku Kantai)

  Submarine Squadron 1 (SubRon 1, or Daiichi Sensuitai), sometimes called Sensuikan tokugata (Special submarine), or Sen-toku for short. In some instances the I-400 submarines were also referred to as tokugata, or “special model” subs.1

  • Cdr. Tatsunosuke Ariizumi, squadron commander. The British may have called him “the Butcher,” but his reputation inside the Imperial Japanese Navy was just as tough.

  I-401 (SQUADRON FLAGSHIP) KEY OFFICERS AND CREW

  • Lt. Cdr. Nobukiyo Nambu, commanding officer. The emotional instability of his superior officer forced him to make the toughest decision of his life.

  • Lt. Muneo Bando, chief navigator. He knew how to ingratiate himself with the enemy as much as with his boss.

  • Lt. Tsugio Yata, chief gunnery officer. He helped repel the enemy’s first attack.

  I-400

  • Cdr. Toshio Kusaka, commanding officer. His crew respected him, even though he’d massacred prisoners.

  I-14

  • Cdr. Tsuruzo Shimizu, commanding officer. He was as lucky as he was skilled.

  I-13

  • Cdr. Katsuo Ohashi, commanding officer. Last to be ready, his crew would pay the price.

  631ST AIR GROUP (ASSIGNED TO SUBRON 1)

  • Lt. Cdr. Tadashi Funada. One of Japan’s foremost test pilots, he came up with the Seiran’s poetic nickname.

  • Lt. Cdr. Masayoshi Fukunaga, executive officer. Loved by some, he was viewed as incompetent by others.

  • Lt. Atsushi Asamura, Seiran squad
ron leader, I-401. He would gladly give his life in support of the mission.

  • Ens. Kazuo Takahashi, Seiran pilot, I-400. He questioned whether they really had what it took to succeed.

  • WO (warrant flying officer) Nobuo Fujita, seaplane pilot, I-25. He was the first enemy pilot to bomb the U.S. mainland.

  U.S. NAVY

  COMSUBPAC

  (COMMANDER SUBMARINE FORCE, U.S. PACIFIC FLEET)

  • Vice Adm. Charles A. Lockwood, commander, submarine force, U.S. Pacific Fleet. His subs helped bring an end to the war with Japan.

  USS SEGUNDO (SS 398)

  • Cdr. James D. Fulp, Jr., commanding officer (May 1944–June 1945). His crew trusted him like no other skipper.

  • Lt. Cdr. Stephen Lobdell Johnson, commanding officer (June 1945-February 1946). His seeming inexperience rattled his crew.

  • Lt. John E. “Silent Joe” Balson, executive officer. Steady under the worst of circumstances, he would lead the I-401’s boarding party.

  • Lt. (jg) L. Rodney Johnson. When he first saw the I-401, he thought it was a ship.

  • Lt. (jg) Victor S. Horgan. He was ready to sink the I-401 the moment it was required.

  • QM3c (quartermaster third class) Carlo M. “Charlie” Carlucci. He wasn’t sure whom to fear more, the I-401 or his trigger-happy crewmates.

  PART 1

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  FACE-OFF

  THE USS SEGUNDO (SS 398) WAS FIVE DAYS OUT OF MIDWAY heading toward Japan when her crew received news that the Japanese government had accepted peace terms. As the submarine’s executive officer, Lt. John E. Balson, noted in the boat’s Fifth War Patrol Report:

  HEARD THE GOOD WORD OF THE SURRENDER—AND IN ELEVEN LANGUAGES, TOO!1

  Balson was second in command of the Balao-class sub, one of the newest U.S. fleet boats. Nicknamed “Silent Joe” for his reticent manner, Balson was responsible for ensuring that the captain’s orders were carried out in a correct and timely manner. He’d been with the Segundo since before her commissioning and had served on all five of her war patrols. Twenty-eight years old and already balding, Balson was a man of sly wit if few words. His all-cap entry was an uncharacteristic display of emotion for the normally phlegmatic officer. Then again, the war with Japan was finally over.

  The Segundo had been patrolling the Kuril Islands when the cease-fire was announced. She hadn’t seen much activity except for a few Russian vessels.2 Nevertheless, the Sea of Okhotsk could be dangerous. Sometimes when fog blanketed the ocean’s surface, the Segundo’s sail protruded as much as 10 or 15 feet above the cloud bank, making the sub perilously visible. Other times the water was so calm, you could hear a bird take off, which meant the Segundo’s engines could be heard as well. And it was cold even in August—so cold, in fact, that you had to recycle the boat’s vents, or the valves froze, preventing the sub from diving.3

  These weren’t the only ways the Kurils could kill you. The Russians had been threatening to invade Hokkaido, and Japan was close enough that a stray mine or determined patriot could still sink the sub. But now that the war was over, there was no point remaining in the area.

  On August 24, 1945, the Segundo was ordered to Tokyo Bay to represent the U.S. submarine force at the upcoming surrender ceremony. The invitation was an honor for the Segundo’s crew, but they weren’t ready to relax just yet. They were still in enemy territory, and though the cease-fire agreement specified that the Japanese military were to lay down arms, some units hadn’t got the message.

  It was two weeks since the Japanese emperor had asked his subjects to “endure the unendurable,” and the Segundo was heading to Tokyo with orders to mop up remnants of the once-formidable Japanese fleet.4 Not much was left of the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN), and what was, wasn’t expected this far north. There was isolated resistance though so the Segundo continued on a wartime footing.

  So far the patrol had proven uneventful.5 There’d been one encounter with a Japanese fishing boat, but as Balson noted: “there wasn’t much fight coming from him and none from us … [so we] called it a draw and retired from the scene.”6

  The Segundo had been an aggressive boat despite the diminishing number of enemy targets. Her first skipper, Cdr. James Douglas Fulp, Jr., had been assigned to the sub while she was still under construction at the Portsmouth Navy Yard in New Hampshire. Fulp had put an indelible stamp on the boat’s crew while commanding her first four war patrols. During that time, he’d sunk two Japanese warships, eight merchants, and seven sampans and earned the Segundo a total of four battle stars. These results weren’t surprising given the fact that Fulp was an experienced sub captain. Tall, athletic, and matinee-idol handsome, he radiated the kind of confidence his men had come to respect. He was 34 (old for a sub captain) and quiet by nature. But that only contributed to his command presence.

  Fulp prosecuted the war with just the right balance of aggressiveness and caution. His crew knew he was somebody they could count on to sink a combatant ship and bring them home safely. They also appreciated his fairness. Some commanding officers (CO) were despots, but Fulp was even-handed when dealing with his men. He never dressed them down in front of one another, and he listened more than he spoke. Though he could be remote, that wasn’t unusual for a CO. It was better for Fulp to be distant than overly familiar, since the crew’s lives depended on his objectivity. In other words, the Segundo’s, first skipper had everything a crew liked in a sub captain: he was mature, steady, and reliable. They happily served under him.

  All this had changed, however, before the Segundo departed on her fifth and final war patrol. The sub was still in Midway undergoing refit when Fulp received orders transferring him to Pearl Harbor. He had eight war patrols under his belt and was due for rotation. But Fulp had built the Segundo into a formidable fighting machine. And if it’s true that a combat submarine operates like a family, then Fulp’s departure was like depriving the crew of their father. The men were sorry to see him go.

  Unfortunately, the boat’s new skipper, Lt. Cdr. Stephen Lobdell Johnson, was a different breed of captain. He was younger than Fulp with a cockiness that put his crew on edge. The first time S1c (seaman first class) Richard “Fox” Binkley saw Captain Johnson at Midway, his new skipper was shooting dice with the men. To Binkley, Johnson didn’t make a good impression. He acted more like a crew member than an officer, not the kind of captain he was used to serving under.7

  Lt. (jg) Victor Horgan also had concerns about his new CO. Horgan had overheard the tall, lanky Johnson tell his officers, “When we get off this patrol, they’ll be throwing medals down our hatch.” Was this the kind of guy you could respect? Horgan wasn’t sure.8 He too had seen Johnson play dice with the men. It wasn’t how the CO of a combat submarine, not to mention an Annapolis graduate, was supposed to act.9

  In fact, the more the crew saw of Johnson, the more they worried he was a “Hollywood skipper.” He may have had other capabilities, but he was noticeably lacking in Fulp’s gravitas. It almost seemed as if the Segundo was the 29-year-old Johnson’s first command. It wasn’t, it was his third. If his officers had known this, it would have worried them all the more.10

  Horgan wasn’t the only one who sensed a problem. One night before the Segundo left on her fifth war patrol, he went drinking with his fellow officers at a Midway bar. While his friends drank beer and gossiped about their new CO, Horgan played a slot machine. Frustration had been building ever since Johnson’s arrival, and the beer loosened their tongues. As the night wore on, a consensus grew that it might be time to ask off the boat.

  While Horgan played the slots, Lt. (jg) Lewis Rodney Johnson (no relation to Captain Johnson) called over:

  “You going to stay with the boat, Vic?”11

  Horgan was tired of losing to the aptly named one-armed bandit and moved to a new machine. Pulling the lever, he stood motionless as a jackpot fell into place. Not believing his luck, he switched to another machine, and the same thing happened. Trying
a third machine, he again hit the jackpot. Horgan was feeling lucky.

  “Yeah, I’ll stay,” he said.

  “We will too, then.”

  And that was the end of that.12

  Lieutenant Balson remained as the Segundo’s, executive officer (XO) after Fulp left. He recognized that their new captain was different. Johnson was a smooth talker, highly polished and well dressed. Even his nickname was “Slick,” which wasn’t always a compliment.

  Balson knew a change in command was nothing to worry about. He’d seen his share of sub captains, and no two were alike. Given time, most crews adjusted to a new skipper’s foibles.13 If not, the U.S. sub force was 100 percent volunteer—you could always ask off the boat.

  The biggest issue Captain Johnson faced was the Segundo’s tight-knit crew. Most of the men had been aboard since the boat’s commissioning 15 months earlier, and they’d been shaped by Fulp’s command style. Importantly, Fulp had gotten them out of some pretty tight spots. Would their new skipper be as talented? A change in command was not to be taken lightly, but Balson expected the crew would come around. Time had a habit of sorting out problems.

  Of course, Captain Johnson’s presumed impetuosity was less of an issue now that the war was over. The one thing the men didn’t want though was for something stupid to happen. Sailors are a superstitious lot, and now that a cease-fire was in place, they didn’t want any last-minute screwups sending them to the bottom. Home was the preferred direction.