The air raid sirens were wailing again. Ignoring them, Emperor Hirohito seated himself at the conference table in the shelter adjoining the imperial library. The sirens had become a fixture of life in Tokyo. Nearly three weeks before, on the night of March 10, 1945, American B-29s dropped incendiary bombs on the city. Nothing like it had been seen in history. Over a hundred thousand j.a.panese perished in the fires. More than a million were made homeless. Sixteen square miles of j.a.pan's capital were turned to charred rubble. The smoke and stench of the blazes still wafted through the Imperial Palace.

Now a month short of his forty-fourth birthday, Hirohito had reigned for nearly twenty years on the Chrysanthemum Throne. He was a fastidious, slightly built man who neither drank nor smoked. His reign was called "Showa," meaning "radiating peace."

How much longer the reign of Hirohito-or the Empire of j.a.pan-might last was very much on the emperor's mind. Another government was teetering on collapse. The previous prime minister, Gen. Hideki Tojo, had been removed in July 1944 after the defeat in the Philippine Sea and replaced with Gen. Kuniaki Koiso. Now Koiso was on his way out for the same reason: j.a.pan had suffered calamitous setbacks at Leyte Gulf and Iwo Jima. The Allies were about to invade Okinawa.

The next government would be headed by a navy man, Admiral Kantaro Suzuki, with whom no one was pleased, including Hirohito and even the senior officers of the navy. Suzuki was eighty years old and more moderate than army militarists like Tojo and Koiso. The hard-liners were worried that the old admiral was inclined toward a negotiated peace with the Americans.

The militarists in the imperial government still held sway, just as they had when the decision was taken in 1941 to attack the United States. Never mind that their strident talk of bushido bushido and imperial glory made them sound as if they'd come unhinged. No senior officer in either the Imperial Navy or Army was willing to speak what they all knew to be the truth: j.a.pan had no chance of winning this war. To express such a thought was tantamount to treason. Even those who secretly favored a negotiated peace knew better than to reveal their feelings. That would make them a "Badoglio," the detested Italian general and prime minister who surrendered his country to the Allies in 1943. and imperial glory made them sound as if they'd come unhinged. No senior officer in either the Imperial Navy or Army was willing to speak what they all knew to be the truth: j.a.pan had no chance of winning this war. To express such a thought was tantamount to treason. Even those who secretly favored a negotiated peace knew better than to reveal their feelings. That would make them a "Badoglio," the detested Italian general and prime minister who surrendered his country to the Allies in 1943.

At the conference table with the emperor were his military advisors, the chiefs of staff of the army and the navy and their immediate subordinates. It was the role of Admiral Koshiro Oikawa, Imperial j.a.panese Navy chief of staff, to interface between His Divine Majesty and the Combined Fleet headquarters, whose commander in chief was Admiral Soemu Toyoda.

The chiefs of staff had presented to Hirohito the plan for the coming counteroffensive at Okinawa. The officers were keeping their eyes averted from the emperor's divine countenance while Hirohito studied the details of the plan.

Occasionally the emperor stopped, squinting through his wire-framed spectacles, to ask questions. How many aircraft would be used in the attacks? Two thousand, Admiral Oikawa told him. Was that enough? the emperor asked. Oikawa explained that an additional fifteen hundred army aircraft would be available.

Hirohito seemed perplexed. More than a hundred thousand army troops were prepared to die to defend Okinawa, and several thousand tokko tokko pilots would be sacrificed. He turned to Admiral Oikawa. "And where is the navy?" pilots would be sacrificed. He turned to Admiral Oikawa. "And where is the navy?"

Oikawa exchanged glances with his staff officers. None was sure how to answer. Did the emperor understand that the navy had been reduced to only a handful of ships? Did he know there was nothing the navy could do that would alter the situation at Okinawa?

Perhaps, but it didn't matter. The emperor's meaning was clear. It was not acceptable that the army should make so great a sacrifice while the navy's ships remained clear of the battle.

The audience with the emperor was over. Oikawa and his staff returned to the Navy Ministry. They had only a few days to decide what the Imperial j.a.panese Navy should sacrifice in the battle for Okinawa.

And where is the navy? The emperor's question demanded an answer. In his office a few miles southwest of the capital, the commander in chief of the Combined Fleet, Adm. Soemu Toyoda, agonized over the navy's options. The emperor's question demanded an answer. In his office a few miles southwest of the capital, the commander in chief of the Combined Fleet, Adm. Soemu Toyoda, agonized over the navy's options.

Toyoda was, if nothing else, a survivor. He had been one of those opposed to a war with the United States, viewing it as un-winnable. Thereafter he had been relegated to administrative positions, too senior to receive a division or fleet command. He was thrust into the topmost naval command post by virtue of attrition after Yamamoto was killed at Bougainville and his successor, Admiral Mineichi Koga, was lost on a flight to the Philippines.

At age fifty-seven, round-faced and thick-bellied, Toyoda was neither a great strategist nor an inspiring leader. His job consisted mainly of mediating between the hard-liners who demanded an all-or-nothing decisive battle with the Americans and those who wanted to h.o.a.rd the navy's a.s.sets for the defense of the homeland.

With his staff a.s.sembled at a long conference table, maps on the wall behind him, Toyoda was hearing both sides. As usual, the shrill voices of the hard-liners were drowning out the others. Neither Toyoda or Oikawa or even the new prime minister, Admiral Suzuki, was willing to challenge them.

The spokesman for the hard-liners was the Combined Fleet chief of operations, Capt. Shigenori Kami. Kami was proposing that the Second Fleet, which included most of the navy's still-battleworthy warships, throw its full weight behind the upcoming offensive. A force of ten warships, with the great battleship Yamato Yamato as its flagship, would hurl itself at the American fleet off Okinawa. as its flagship, would hurl itself at the American fleet off Okinawa.

Yamato's guns had greater range than anything the Americans possessed. After inflicting maximum damage on the U.S. ships, she would be beached. The great battleship would become a stationary artillery platform, and most of her crew would join the garrison defending Okinawa.

The sea a.s.sault would coincide with Admiral Ugaki's ma.s.sive aerial tokko tokko attacks, while General Ushijima's 32nd Army on Okinawa would take advantage of the situation and counterattack on the ground. It would be glorious. A last attacks, while General Ushijima's 32nd Army on Okinawa would take advantage of the situation and counterattack on the ground. It would be glorious. A last banzai! banzai! The enemy would be hurled back into the sea. The enemy would be hurled back into the sea.

A stunned hush fell over the conference table. Then the more rational officers in the Combined Fleet staff spoke up. They thought it was preposterous. What possible effect could these ships have on the outcome of the Okinawa campaign? It would be a meaningless waste.

It would be even more meaningless, countered the hard-liners, to have them destroyed at anchor by enemy warplanes. Or, infinitely worse, surrendering them whole to invading American troops.

As usual, the hard-liners prevailed. Whether anyone believed such an attack could succeed hardly mattered. The plan had an almost mystical appeal-the mighty Yamato Yamato charging like a seaborne samurai directly at the enemy fleet, all guns roaring, sending the terrified enemy into a disorderly retreat. It was the kind of seductive, romantic theme that dwelled in the heart of every j.a.panese warrior. charging like a seaborne samurai directly at the enemy fleet, all guns roaring, sending the terrified enemy into a disorderly retreat. It was the kind of seductive, romantic theme that dwelled in the heart of every j.a.panese warrior.

Admiral Toyoda nodded his agreement. The hard-liners would have their way. Toyoda would sign off on what would be his last operational order of the war.

She was the mightiest warship ever constructed. Displacing 71,659 tons and capable of 27 knots, the superbattleship Yamato Yamato had the greatest firepower ever mounted on a vessel-more than 150 guns, including nine 18.1-inchers that could hurl 3,200-pound armor-piercing sh.e.l.ls on a trajectory of 22.5 miles. Her ma.s.sive armor was the heaviest ever installed on a warship, making her virtually impregnable to the guns of any ship in the world. had the greatest firepower ever mounted on a vessel-more than 150 guns, including nine 18.1-inchers that could hurl 3,200-pound armor-piercing sh.e.l.ls on a trajectory of 22.5 miles. Her ma.s.sive armor was the heaviest ever installed on a warship, making her virtually impregnable to the guns of any ship in the world.

She was 863 feet long at her weather deck. Her bridge tower, rising 80 feet above the deck, had two elevators and six separate decks for command and control of the ship and her fleet. Her single ma.s.sive smokestack swept aft at a rakish 25 degrees. Yamato Yamato's interior contained five decks divided into a bewildering warren of s.p.a.ces and watertight compartments. Mounted on her aft deck was an aircraft crane and two catapults over a hangar that accommodated six floatplanes.

Protruding from her bow was the golden two-meter-wide kikusui kikusui crest, a chrysanthemum-shaped symbol taken from a j.a.panese legend about a fourteenth-century warrior and martyr. Even the ship's name, emblazoned in gold on her hull, possessed a mystical power. crest, a chrysanthemum-shaped symbol taken from a j.a.panese legend about a fourteenth-century warrior and martyr. Even the ship's name, emblazoned in gold on her hull, possessed a mystical power. Yamato Yamato was a poetic and spiritual metaphor for j.a.pan itself. In her gray, armored magnificence, she symbolized j.a.pan's early dreams of conquest. While was a poetic and spiritual metaphor for j.a.pan itself. In her gray, armored magnificence, she symbolized j.a.pan's early dreams of conquest. While Yamato Yamato still lived, so did j.a.pan. still lived, so did j.a.pan.

Yamato was the prototype of five such dreadnoughts that j.a.pan intended to build. She was the product of the mid-1930s belief that if j.a.pan were to face the United States in a future war, domination of the Pacific required that they build battleships larger than anything the United States might possess. American battleships were limited in size for practical reasons-the Panama Ca.n.a.l permitted pa.s.sage of vessels no larger than about 63,000 tons. was the prototype of five such dreadnoughts that j.a.pan intended to build. She was the product of the mid-1930s belief that if j.a.pan were to face the United States in a future war, domination of the Pacific required that they build battleships larger than anything the United States might possess. American battleships were limited in size for practical reasons-the Panama Ca.n.a.l permitted pa.s.sage of vessels no larger than about 63,000 tons.

She was designed and constructed in secret, in violation of the Washington and London treaties that limited the size and number of battleships. Yamato Yamato's hull was laid down in 1937 at the Kure shipyard. Her sister ship, Musashi Musashi, was begun the following year in Nagasaki, and Shinano Shinano at Yokosuka. Construction of the remaining two at Yokosuka. Construction of the remaining two Yamato Yamato-cla.s.s battleships was canceled. Ultimately, only Yamato Yamato and and Musashi Musashi entered service as battleships. After the historic Battle of Midway, when it became apparent that aircraft carriers held the key to victory at sea, the unfinished entered service as battleships. After the historic Battle of Midway, when it became apparent that aircraft carriers held the key to victory at sea, the unfinished Shinano Shinano was converted to an aircraft carrier. was converted to an aircraft carrier. Shinano Shinano would have been the largest carrier ever deployed in World War II, but while transiting from Yokosuka to Kure in November 1944 to complete her fitting out, she was torpedoed by the U.S. submarine would have been the largest carrier ever deployed in World War II, but while transiting from Yokosuka to Kure in November 1944 to complete her fitting out, she was torpedoed by the U.S. submarine Archerfish Archerfish.

Throughout Yamato Yamato's construction, she was shielded by a ma.s.sive canvas screen to prevent observation. Still shrouded in secrecy, the battleship was commissioned a few days after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Although she served as Admiral Yamamoto's flagship at the Battle of Midway, Yamato Yamato was kept at the fringe of the battle and never saw action. In November 1943 she and was kept at the fringe of the battle and never saw action. In November 1943 she and Musashi Musashi were relegated to transport duty, hauling troops and supplies to the Solomons. The next month, while transporting troops to the Admiralty Islands, were relegated to transport duty, hauling troops and supplies to the Solomons. The next month, while transporting troops to the Admiralty Islands, Yamato Yamato received her first blooding-two torpedoes in her starboard side from the U.S. submarine received her first blooding-two torpedoes in her starboard side from the U.S. submarine Skate- Skate-forcing her to retire to Truk for emergency repairs.

Not until October 1944 did Yamato Yamato finally fire her guns at an enemy. As the flagship of Admiral Kurita's First Diversionary Striking Force, finally fire her guns at an enemy. As the flagship of Admiral Kurita's First Diversionary Striking Force, Yamato Yamato fought the U.S. fleet at the Battle of Leyte Gulf. Although Kurita's warships were able to ambush the ships of the Taffy Fleet, sinking the escort carrier fought the U.S. fleet at the Battle of Leyte Gulf. Although Kurita's warships were able to ambush the ships of the Taffy Fleet, sinking the escort carrier Gambier Bay Gambier Bay and three destroyers, and three destroyers, Yamato Yamato missed most of the glory. Dodging a torpedo, her captain steered her missed most of the glory. Dodging a torpedo, her captain steered her away away from the thick of the battle. By the time he reversed course, Admiral Kurita had ordered a withdrawal. from the thick of the battle. By the time he reversed course, Admiral Kurita had ordered a withdrawal.

Pa.s.sing back into the Sibuyan Sea, Yamato Yamato received another chance to fire her guns into the sky when she came under attack from U.S. carrier planes. Again her luck held. She made it back to Kure, damaged but intact. received another chance to fire her guns into the sky when she came under attack from U.S. carrier planes. Again her luck held. She made it back to Kure, damaged but intact.

The "decisive battle" that j.a.panese admirals rhapsodized about-the mythical great clash between j.a.panese and American surface fleets that would send the enemy reeling in defeat-was a faded dream. The Imperial j.a.panese Navy no longer had a fleet. Its handful of surviving ships spent most of their energy darting around the Inland Sea, the long pa.s.sage between Honshu and Shikoku, hiding from American bombers.

Yamato had become a ship without a mission. Now, finally, the great battleship had received her call to arms. had become a ship without a mission. Now, finally, the great battleship had received her call to arms.

Ens. Mitsuru Yoshida took a last look up and down Pier 1 at the Kure naval port. As the officer in charge of the last boat to sh.o.r.e, it was his job to make sure no sailors from Yamato Yamato were left ash.o.r.e. Missing the sailing of a warship was an offense punishable by death. were left ash.o.r.e. Missing the sailing of a warship was an offense punishable by death.

As Yoshida expected, there were no stragglers. By now all Yamato Yamato's crewmen were surely on board. Yoshida stood for another long moment on the pier gazing around. Kure had been his home since he arrived three months earlier as the new a.s.sistant radar officer. The streets of the naval port were eerily quiet this morning, as if everyone was still asleep. In the pale morning light, the surface of the harbor was a slate gray. Yoshida felt a pang of homesickness. He had the feeling that this might be the last time he would ever stand on his native land.

The twenty-two-year-old officer stepped back into the motor launch and ordered the c.o.xswain to return to their ship. As they sliced back across the slick water, Yoshida was struck once again by the sight of the great vessel moored at Buoy 26. The silver-white hull of Yamato Yamato dominated the harbor. Pa.s.sing the cruiser dominated the harbor. Pa.s.sing the cruiser Yahagi Yahagi, moored next to Yamato Yamato, Yoshida could see blinker flashes being exchanged between the ships. Newly graduated from officer candidate school only three months ago, Yoshida could read the signals: "Preparations for getting under way completed."

At 1500 that afternoon, March 29, 1945, Yamato Yamato eased away from her mooring. Yoshida was at his duty station on the bridge, an officer of the most junior rank in the midst of captains and admirals. Turning westward, the battleship followed the southern sh.o.r.eline of Honshu, past the port of Hiroshima. eased away from her mooring. Yoshida was at his duty station on the bridge, an officer of the most junior rank in the midst of captains and admirals. Turning westward, the battleship followed the southern sh.o.r.eline of Honshu, past the port of Hiroshima.

Along the way, Yamato Yamato's skipper, Rear Adm. Kosaku Ariga, ordered drills for the crew. While the ship turned and circled, the crew practiced antiaircraft and antiship exercises.

That evening, after they'd dropped anchor at the Mitajiri anchorage, near Ube on the narrow gulf separating Honshu from Kyushu, Captain Ariga a.s.sembled his crew of three thousand men. A stillness settled over the men on the deck as Ariga made his announcement: Yamato Yamato would be the mainstay of a task force sailing to counter the expected American landings on Okinawa. He hoped that they would rise to the occasion and live up to the expectations of the navy. would be the mainstay of a task force sailing to counter the expected American landings on Okinawa. He hoped that they would rise to the occasion and live up to the expectations of the navy.

For a moment the only sound on deck was the collective breathing of the men. Ariga's announcement came as no real surprise. Everyone knew what was happening at Okinawa. For the past week they'd heard the rumors: Yamato Yamato would soon be going into action. Now it was official. would soon be going into action. Now it was official.

Then the cheering began. Like all j.a.panese fighting men, they had been demoralized by the steady drumbeat of bad news-the Philippines, Saipan, Iwo Jima, now Okinawa. The pent-up frustration and anger came spilling out of them. The sailors yelled and laughed and applauded. Finally they were going to teach the Americans a lesson. The big guns of the Yamato Yamato were going to blow the enemy to h.e.l.l. were going to blow the enemy to h.e.l.l.

The truth still hadn't sunk in. The captain had stopped short of actually saying that they were going on a suicide mission. Seconds later, the voice of the executive officer, Capt. Jiro Nomura, cleared up any doubt. "The time has come," he said. "Kamikaze Yamato Yamato, be truly a divine wind!"

That night Yoshida lay in his bunk reading a biography of the philosopher Spinoza. It was a rare moment. Between standing watches, exercising his division of sixteen men, and performing endless antiaircraft and damage control drills, there had been little time for the pleasure of reading.

In his brief time aboard Yamato Yamato, Yoshida had learned that his fellow junior officers fell into two categories. There were the professionals, most of whom came from the Eta Jima naval academy, and there were those like Yoshida, who had been plucked from civilian life and rushed through officer candidate school. Most of the academy graduates were hard-liners who embraced the samurai ethos. They loudly proclaimed their willingness to die for the emperor, and they heaped scorn on anyone who suggested that suicide was a senseless tactic.

Most of the recently commissioned officers were of a different mind-set. Like Yoshida, they were university students whose lives had been interrupted by military service. Most had no use for the bushido bushido nonsense of the hard-liners, but they had the sense to shut up about it. To Yoshida, there was a difference between being willing to die in the line of duty and throwing yourself at the enemy in a suicidal charge. He hadn't volunteered to die. nonsense of the hard-liners, but they had the sense to shut up about it. To Yoshida, there was a difference between being willing to die in the line of duty and throwing yourself at the enemy in a suicidal charge. He hadn't volunteered to die.

It no longer mattered. Yoshida was a loyal son of j.a.pan. His fate was bound with that of Yamato Yamato.

13

GIMLET EYES AND THE ALLIGATOR GIMLET EYES AND THE ALLIGATOR OKINAWA SHOTO

MARCH 26, 1945

From the bridge of his flagship, the cruiser Indianapolis Indianapolis, Adm. Raymond Spruance had a panoramic view of the amphibious force. The ships looked like brooding whales, one gray shape after another, stretching from horizon to horizon. On the opposite side of Okinawa were the flattops and escort ships of Mitscher's Task Force 58. Together they const.i.tuted an armada of more than thirteen hundred ships.

The man whom destiny had placed in command of this force was not a charismatic figure in the mold of Horatio Nelson, John Paul Jones, or even Bull Halsey. Raymond Ames Spruance, in fact, was the reverse image of the flamboyant Halsey, possessing none of Halsey's ebullient temperament or flair for self-promotion. Though he and Halsey were fast friends, Spruance worried about the effect an adoring press had on a senior commander. "His fame may not have gone to his head," Spruance wrote, "but there is nevertheless danger in this. Should he get to identifying himself with the figure as publicized, he may subconsciously start thinking in terms of what this reputation calls for, rather than of how best to meet the action problem confronting him."

By personality and style, Spruance was a cautious commander. Halsey, who had been criticized for the opposite tendency, alluded to this when he wrote, "I wish that Spruance had been with Mitscher at Leyte Gulf, and I had been with Mitscher in the Battle of the Philippine Sea." Coming from Halsey, it was both a rueful comment on his own actions at Leyte Gulf and an implicit criticism of Spruance at the Philippine Sea. The aggressive Halsey was undoubtedly thinking that he would have pursued and destroyed the j.a.panese carriers at the Philippine Sea, and the Leyte Gulf battle never would have been fought.

Spruance's lean face had a sober, calculating expression, with darting eyes that always seemed to be absorbing new information. "Gimlet Eyes" was a nickname staff officers gave him, but never to his face. The mild-mannered Spruance never indulged in the profane, tough talk of admirals such as Kelly Turner or John "Slew" McCain. His only noticeable vice was a pa.s.sion for exotic coffees, which he was able to indulge as his forces seized one coffee-growing island after another in the Pacific.

No one, including his bosses Chester Nimitz or Ernest King, doubted Spruance's brilliance. Spruance himself never took credit for being bright, claiming that he was actually just a good judge of men. "I am lazy," he wrote, "and I never have done things myself that I could get someone to do for me." It was Spruance's style to choose bright officers for his staff, then get out of their way.

On the gray morning of March 31, 1945, as Spruance's fleet was preparing to invade Okinawa, a warning was flashed from the CIC of Spruance's flagship, Indianapolis: Indianapolis: four bogeys were inbound. In the next few minutes, CAP fighters splashed two of the enemy planes. A third was shot down by gunners on the cruiser four bogeys were inbound. In the next few minutes, CAP fighters splashed two of the enemy planes. A third was shot down by gunners on the cruiser New Mexico New Mexico.

The fourth somehow slithered through the screen. Dodging the combined gunfire of the task force's heavy ships and their screens, the kamikaze crashed into Indianapolis Indianapolis's port quarter.

The kamikaze plane itself did little damage. The starboard wing clipped the cruiser's port bulwark, and most of the wreckage plunged into the water. Its bomb, released just prior to impact, smashed through several decks, including two messing and berthing compartments, before exploding in an oil bunker. Nine men were killed and twenty wounded.

Indianapolis could still fire her guns, and she could make her own way to the newly captured anchorage at Kerama Retto. Inspection revealed that her propeller shafts were damaged, her fuel tanks ruptured, and her water-distilling equipment ruined. could still fire her guns, and she could make her own way to the newly captured anchorage at Kerama Retto. Inspection revealed that her propeller shafts were damaged, her fuel tanks ruptured, and her water-distilling equipment ruined.

The cruiser was ordered back to the United States. When she returned to war in July 1945, Indianapolis Indianapolis would carry the components of a world-altering instrument-the "Little Boy" atomic bomb that was detonated over Hiroshima. In a tragic finale to her career, would carry the components of a world-altering instrument-the "Little Boy" atomic bomb that was detonated over Hiroshima. In a tragic finale to her career, Indianapolis Indianapolis would be sunk by a j.a.panese submarine two weeks before the end of the war, incurring the greatest seagoing loss of life aboard any U.S. warship. would be sunk by a j.a.panese submarine two weeks before the end of the war, incurring the greatest seagoing loss of life aboard any U.S. warship.

For Spruance, the kamikaze strike on his flagship was a minor deterrent. Without missing a beat, he transferred his flag to the battleship New Mexico New Mexico and continued planning the next morning's invasion. and continued planning the next morning's invasion.

Aboard Eldorado Eldorado, Vice Adm. Kelly Turner was keeping the pressure on his staff, firing off his daily blizzard of memos that his officers called "snowflakes," monitoring the arrival of the amphibious forces as they converged on Okinawa from staging bases at Ulithi, Saipan, Leyte, and Guam. A heavy weather system with high seas in the western Pacific had slowed their progress. True to form, the Alligator was accepting no excuses from his task group commanders.

Love Day-the day the first U.S. troops would hit the beaches at Hagushi, on the western sh.o.r.e of Okinawa-was now twenty-four hours away. Turner's gunfire and covering force, Task Force 54 under Rear Adm. Mort Deyo, was on station off the western sh.o.r.e of Okinawa delivering a preinvasion bombardment of enemy positions.

The problem was, there were no readily identifiable targets. And the enemy wasn't cooperating by firing their sh.o.r.e batteries and revealing their positions. As far as anyone could tell, the western sh.o.r.e-and the landing beaches at Hagushi-were deserted.

The Alligator knew better. He'd seen this before. The j.a.panese never showed their hand until the battle had begun.

The mood in Boys' Town changed again that night. Out from the lockers came the stashes of c.o.o.n Range, but not to mourn the loss of another Tail End Charlie. This was a night for celebration. The report had just reached Intrepid: Intrepid: Windy Hill, last seen floating in the Pacific off Kyushu, was alive and aboard an American submarine. Windy Hill, last seen floating in the Pacific off Kyushu, was alive and aboard an American submarine.

Hill's life, in fact, had been saved by one of the VF-10 Grim Reaper pilots, Lt. George "Bee" Weems, who relieved Erickson on station over the place where Hill went down. Realizing that Hill had left his sinking Corsair without a raft, Weems managed to haul his own raft free and drop it to Hill. With the last of his energy, Hill had made a hundred-yard swim through the high seas and clambered aboard the raft. Thirty minutes later, he was astonished to see the gray shape of a submarine swell up from the ocean.

Eric Erickson's incessant jabbering on the radio had produced results. Alerted by the transmissions, USS Sea Dog Sea Dog proceeded to the area. The sub skipper spotted the circling Corsairs through his periscope and made directly for Hill's raft. proceeded to the area. The sub skipper spotted the circling Corsairs through his periscope and made directly for Hill's raft.

Hill had been rescued, but it didn't mean he was coming home to the Intrepid Intrepid. Not for a while. The Sea Dog Sea Dog had embarked on its war patrol only a few hours before picking up the downed pilot. Now the submarine was heading back into the Pacific. Like it or not, Windy Hill was along for the ride. had embarked on its war patrol only a few hours before picking up the downed pilot. Now the submarine was heading back into the Pacific. Like it or not, Windy Hill was along for the ride.

PART TWO

STORMING THE GREAT LOOCHOO MARINE C CORPS GENERAL, EXPLAINING THE REASON FOR INVADING O OKINAWA: F FROM O OKINAWA WE CAN BOMB THE J j.a.pS ANYWHERE-CHINA, FORMOSA, j.a.pAN.MARINE C CORPS GUNNERY SERGEANT, NODDING: Y YES, SIR. A AND VICE VERSA.THE PROSPECTS OF A LONG AND ILl.u.s.tRIOUS CAREER FOR A DESTROYER a.s.sIGNED TO RADAR PICKET STATION DUTY IS BELOW AVERAGE EXPECTANCY. THAT DUTY IS EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS, VERY TIRING, AND ENTIRELY UNENJOYABLE.

-CMDR. FRANK L. JOHNSON, COMMANDING OFFICER, USS PURDY PURDY

VBF-10 Corsairs attacking Yamato Yamato in the painting in the painting Imperial Imperial Sacrifice Sacrifice. (PAINTING ROBERT BAILEY) (PAINTING ROBERT BAILEY)

14

LOVE DAY LOVE DAY OKINAWA

EASTER SUNDAY, APRIL 1, 1945

It was a perfect morning for an invasion. The sea was gla.s.sy smooth, shimmering in the glow of the early spring sun. Waves of LCIs (landing craft infantry) and LVTs (landing vehicle tracked) were moving in parallel paths toward the beach, each craft trailing a long ribbon of foam. In the fore of each column were LCI gunboats, blazing away at the beach with 40-millimeter guns, .50-caliber machine guns, and Mark 7 rocket launchers.

The code name for the timing of the invasion was "Love Day." The fact that the landings were also on April Fool's Day wasn't lost on the grim-faced soldiers and Marines hunched down in the landing craft. Some were veterans of the b.l.o.o.d.y landings on Peleliu, Saipan, and Tarawa. They all knew about Iwo Jima, where casualties had been horrific. Okinawa, they had no doubt, was going to be a bigger, bloodier version of Iwo.

One of the men in the landing craft of the 1st Marine Division was a skinny forty-five-year-old war correspondent named Ernie Pyle. Pyle was not one of the twilight warriors-latecomers to the war. He'd already seen more combat than most of the men in the landing craft. As a columnist and reporter for the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain, he'd covered the European theater from North Africa to Sicily, Italy, and France. He'd been on the beach at Normandy a day after D-day. His columns had won him a Pulitzer Prize in 1944.

Pyle hadn't wanted to come out here. But after he returned from Europe, he couldn't just stay home. He thought he owed it to the men who were fighting in the Pacific to tell their story.

Now Pyle was hunkered down with the Marines in the landing craft headed for a beach code-named "Yellow One," on the northern half of the landing zone. "I felt miserable," he reported, "and an awful weight was on my heart. There's nothing whatever romantic in knowing that an hour from now you may be dead."

Center stage of the show was a six-mile stretch of beach on the west central sh.o.r.e of the island, near the village of Hagushi. Under covering gunfire, underwater demolition teams had already slithered ash.o.r.e to prepare the beaches for the a.s.sault. The first key objectives were the two j.a.panese airfields Yontan and Kadena, directly behind the invasion beaches.

As the landing craft neared the reef that protected the lagoon inside, the thunder of gunfire swelled to a crescendo. Fighter bombers from the carrier task force flashed overhead, firing 5-inch rockets and blazing away with machine guns. Cruisers and battleships kept up a steady barrage with their heavy guns. The baritone rumble of the amphibious crafts' diesel engines wafted over the surface of the water.