Soon after midnight, while most of the besotted crew was still stumbling to their bunks, the shadowy, taper-winged silhouette of a four-engine airplane pa.s.sed high overhead. It was a B-29 reconnaissance bomber snapping pictures of the anch.o.r.ed battleship below, radioing its exact position back to Allied headquarters.

The early hours of April 6 were spent off-loading combustible materials and unnecessary stores. The deadline for mail was 1000, and the executive officer urged each officer and man to write a final letter to his family.

In his cramped quarters, Ens. Mitsuru Yoshida struggled to find words for a letter to his parents. He tried to push out of his mind the picture of his mother bent over in grief. Finally he wrote, "Please dispose of my things. Please, everyone, stay well and survive. That is my only prayer."

One of Yoshida's friends was Ens. Kunai Nakatami, who was a nisei nisei-a j.a.panese American. Nakatami had been studying in j.a.pan when war broke out. Conscripted into the navy, he was an a.s.sistant communications officer whose job was to interpret American emergency transmissions. Nakatami was a man whose homeland and enemy were the same. Two of his brothers were U.S. soldiers fighting in Europe. Most of his fellow officers aboard Yamato Yamato despised him for being an American. despised him for being an American.

Nakatami had just received a letter from his mother, via neutral Switzerland, which only added to his misery. "How are you?" his mother asked. "We are fine. Please do put your best effort into your duties. And let's both pray for peace." Nakatami broke down in tears, certain that he would never be able to reply to his mother's letter.

Similar scenes were playing out on the nine other ships that would sail with Yamato Yamato. Aboard Yahagi Yahagi, the cruiser that would lead the attack force into the East China Sea toward Okinawa, Capt. Tameichi Hara wrote a last letter: The Combined Fleet has shrunk unbelievably in the past two years. I am about to sortie as skipper of the only cruiser remaining in the fleet-8,500-ton Yahagi. Yahagi. With my good friend Rear Adm. Keizo Komura on board, we are going on a surface With my good friend Rear Adm. Keizo Komura on board, we are going on a surface tokko tokko mission. It is a great opportunity as well as a great honor to be skipper of a ship in this sortie to Okinawa. Know that I am happy and proud of this opportunity. Be proud of me mission. It is a great opportunity as well as a great honor to be skipper of a ship in this sortie to Okinawa. Know that I am happy and proud of this opportunity. Be proud of me.Farewell.

In his cabin, the commander of the task force was also writing letters. Vice Adm. Seiichi Ito had been married to his wife, Chitose, for twenty-three years. They had three daughters, two of whom were still teenagers, and a son, a twenty-one-year-old navy pilot based in Kyushu. Ito was inordinately proud of his son, but he also had a father's gnawing trepidations about what would happen to him. As the aerial offensive shifted more and more to tokko tokko tactics, Ito knew that his son would be a prime candidate for a one-way mission to Okinawa. Like his samurai model, the fourteenth-century general Kusunoki, who faithfully obeyed his emperor's orders despite the overwhelming certainty of death and defeat, Ito accepted his fate. And by the same reasoning, he could also accept whatever fate awaited his son. It was the way of the warrior. tactics, Ito knew that his son would be a prime candidate for a one-way mission to Okinawa. Like his samurai model, the fourteenth-century general Kusunoki, who faithfully obeyed his emperor's orders despite the overwhelming certainty of death and defeat, Ito accepted his fate. And by the same reasoning, he could also accept whatever fate awaited his son. It was the way of the warrior.

Later that morning, the executive officer gave the order for fifty-three cadets from the Eta Jima naval academy who had boarded two days earlier to disembark. The cadets were crestfallen. Aware of Yamato Yamato's coming mission, several begged the executive officer to be allowed to remain. Nomura shook his head. He understood their sentiments, and he would feel the same way in their position. As untrained officers, they were more hindrance than help in the coming battle. They were j.a.pan's future skippers, and they should remain ash.o.r.e.

Bitterly disappointed, the cadets made their way to the destroyer alongside, which would take them ash.o.r.e. Along with them, Yamato Yamato's Captain Ariga ordered another fifteen seriously ill men to disembark, as well as several over the age of forty whose large families would suffer undue hardship.

Standing at the rail of the destroyer, the cadets, most still hung-over from the previous night's party, rendered a long final salute to Yamato Yamato.

They were running late. The task force was supposed to be under way at 1500, April 6, but there were delays off-loading nonessential supplies and combustibles. Not until 1524 did the captain give the order, "Unshackle from the buoy. All engines ahead slow."

A rumble pa.s.sed through the great ship, and a gray foam boiled up from beneath her stern. Slowly she eased away from her mooring and into the channel to join the waiting formation. Yamato Yamato and her nine escorts turned their bows southeastward, toward the Bungo Strait, making a speed of 12 knots. In the lead was and her nine escorts turned their bows southeastward, toward the Bungo Strait, making a speed of 12 knots. In the lead was Yahagi Yahagi, with a row of destroyers trailing on either side. The flagship Yamato Yamato was securely positioned in her place of honor in the center. was securely positioned in her place of honor in the center.

Twilight was descending over the task force when the executive officer, Capt. Nomura, mustered the crew. The evening breeze swirled over Yamato Yamato's bow, ruffling the uniforms of the men a.s.sembled on the deck. Against the setting sun, silhouettes of the hills on Kyushu were gliding past Yamato Yamato's starboard rail.

Standing atop the number two turret, Nomura read the orders from the task force commander, Vice Admiral Ito: "This task force of the Imperial Navy, in cooperation with the army, is about to stake its entire air, sea, and land might on an all-out attack against enemy ships in the vicinity of Okinawa. The fate of the empire hangs in the balance."

The crew faced the east, bowed to the emperor, and sang the j.a.panese anthem, "Kimi Ga Yo." Then, as one, they shouted, "Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!" "Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!"

From across the water, like echoes, came the same shouts from the other ships. It was an emotional moment. The men shook hands and a.s.sured each other that the next time they met would be at Yasukuni, the sacred shrine near Tokyo where the spirits of j.a.panese warriors resided.

Returning to his duty station on the top deck, Lt. Naoyoshi Ishida felt the same emotions, but he had no illusions about what lay ahead. At twenty-eight, Ishida was a decade older than most of the sailors who were cheering a fate they could only dimly imagine. Unlike many of Yamato Yamato's junior officers who had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from civilian universities and professional studies and hurriedly trained as officers, Ishida was a professional naval officer who had begun his career before the war.

Ishida's wife and son were back in Kure. Like most of the ship's officers, Ishida had been given three days' leave before Yamato Yamato's departure. During his leave, Ishida had purposely not allowed his thoughts to dwell on what lay ahead in the sea off Okinawa. He was a product of his culture and cla.s.s. A willingness to die in the service of the emperor was an integral component of his being. The prospect of death in battle had never caused him a moment's anguish-until his visit with his family was nearly finished.

Darkness had come to Kure when Ishida said his farewell to his family in the doorway of their tiny wood-and-paper home. He felt a pang of grief as he realized that his infant son, whom he had not seen until this visit, would soon be fatherless. He struggled for the words to say farewell to his wife. Even if he had been allowed to reveal the secret that neither he nor Yamato Yamato would return from the next sortie, he wouldn't have been able to say it. It would simply have been too difficult for both of them. would return from the next sortie, he wouldn't have been able to say it. It would simply have been too difficult for both of them.

He'd kissed his wife, then walked away. After she closed the door, he came back. He walked around the house, taking a last look at the fragile structure. He peered through the window to fix in his memory a last image of the family he would never see again. He said a silent goodbye and made his way to the Yamato Yamato.

Back aboard the battleship, he wrote a final letter to his parents. It wasn't difficult. In the traditionally respectful language with which j.a.panese addressed their elders, he requested their forgiveness for not having said farewell. He asked that they please live long lives. He sealed the envelope, then began writing a letter to his wife. "You can marry again," he wrote, "but whatever you do, please raise our son to be a good man."

Ishida laid down his pen, stared at the letter, then tore it up. He tried writing another letter, then tore it up also. He couldn't do it. Such a letter would cause her too much pain. The image of his beloved wife weeping over the letter would make it harder for him to perform his duties when Yamato Yamato entered battle. entered battle.

Forget it, Ishida decided. There would be no farewell.

17

DIVINE WIND DIVINE WIND KANOYA AIR BASE, KYUSHU, j.a.pAN

APRIL 6, 1945

The drums rolled. The tokko tokko pilots stood in a long row awaiting their final orders. Each was dressed in a bulky flying suit and helmet, a ceremonial white pilots stood in a long row awaiting their final orders. Each was dressed in a bulky flying suit and helmet, a ceremonial white hachimaki hachimaki headband tied around his head. The first wave would take off at 1320. headband tied around his head. The first wave would take off at 1320.

As he always did when dispatching young men to their deaths, Vice Adm. Matome Ugaki wore a somber expression. With him was Combined Fleet chief of staff Vice Adm. Ryunosuke Kusaka, both admirals wearing their starched whites, swords, medals, and white gloves. On long tables before them stretched the row of empty cups, the plates of rice wafers.

Ten-Go was the first and most ambitious of the ten planned kikusui kikusui operations. It would be a ma.s.s air attack by both operations. It would be a ma.s.s air attack by both tokko tokko aircraft and conventional warplanes, coordinated with the surface attack by the aircraft and conventional warplanes, coordinated with the surface attack by the Yamato Yamato task force. At the same time, General Ushijima's 32nd Army was supposed to counterattack on Okinawa and retake the airfields at Yontan and Kadena. task force. At the same time, General Ushijima's 32nd Army was supposed to counterattack on Okinawa and retake the airfields at Yontan and Kadena.

Ugaki was skeptical about Ten-Go's chances for success. Like most j.a.panese operations, the complex plan depended on precise timing and careful coordination. From experience Ugaki knew how poorly the army and the navy coordinated their operations. He doubted that General Ushijima would seize the moment to regain the lost ground on Okinawa. He was even more pessimistic about Yamato Yamato's chance of success. Ugaki, an old battleship sailor, had been opposed to the mission. It was "superficial," he declared, to regard the battleship as useless.

Ugaki spoke to the a.s.sembled pilots. In the same low voice he always used when delivering final orders to the tokko tokko warriors, he told them that this was the first of a series of warriors, he told them that this was the first of a series of kikusui kikusui operations. More than two thousand warplanes were being a.s.sembled for the campaign, three-quarters of them dedicated to operations. More than two thousand warplanes were being a.s.sembled for the campaign, three-quarters of them dedicated to tokko tokko missions. In a succession of blows they would annihilate the American fleet off Okinawa. The enemy would be paralyzed and unable to proceed with their invasion. The n.o.ble young missions. In a succession of blows they would annihilate the American fleet off Okinawa. The enemy would be paralyzed and unable to proceed with their invasion. The n.o.ble young tokko tokko airmen would be in the vanguard of saving the empire. airmen would be in the vanguard of saving the empire.

They gazed back at him in respectful silence. Whether or not they actually believed him didn't matter. Questioning such an order was not an option. Nor was reneging on their pledge to die for the emperor.

The cups were filled. Solemnly Ugaki raised his to the a.s.sembled pilots. "We shall meet at Minatogawa," he told them.

They had heard Ugaki make this promise several times now. The tokko tokko volunteers who had not yet flown their missions accepted it as an article of faith that the admiral would follow them into death. They would be reunited in spirit at the shrine commemorating the legendary battle of Minatogawa. volunteers who had not yet flown their missions accepted it as an article of faith that the admiral would follow them into death. They would be reunited in spirit at the shrine commemorating the legendary battle of Minatogawa.

The pilots drank from their cups. They saluted Admiral Ugaki, then bowed respectfully. The admiral gave the order to man their planes, and in unison the pilots yelled three banzai banzai cheers. The drums beat a steady tattoo while they trotted to the camouflaged revetments where the armed and ready airplanes were concealed. cheers. The drums beat a steady tattoo while they trotted to the camouflaged revetments where the armed and ready airplanes were concealed.

Minutes later, the stillness at Kanoya was split by the sound of radial engines coughing and rumbling to life. The first group of attack aircraft-fifty-six Zeroes, each laden with a 250-kilogram armor-piercing bomb-appeared from beneath the camouflage nets and lumbered over the uneven ground toward the runway.

It was an emotional moment. Well-wishers, ground crew, and pilots awaiting their own tokko tokko missions watched and cheered. One after the other the warplanes throttled up and roared down the patched runway. With them went ten Zero fighter escorts. It was insufficient fighter cover, Ugaki knew, but it was a sign of the times. The ten fighters and their pilots were all that could be spared. Experienced fighter pilots were in such short supply that their commanders were refusing to send them into hopeless duels with the superior enemy air forces. missions watched and cheered. One after the other the warplanes throttled up and roared down the patched runway. With them went ten Zero fighter escorts. It was insufficient fighter cover, Ugaki knew, but it was a sign of the times. The ten fighters and their pilots were all that could be spared. Experienced fighter pilots were in such short supply that their commanders were refusing to send them into hopeless duels with the superior enemy air forces.

When the last of the tokko tokko planes had disappeared in the cloudy southern sky, Ugaki returned to his bunker. He settled himself into his command chair and a.s.sumed the position that he had adopted since the first planes had disappeared in the cloudy southern sky, Ugaki returned to his bunker. He settled himself into his command chair and a.s.sumed the position that he had adopted since the first tokko tokko operations-sitting upright, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed straight ahead as if he were in a trance. He would remain there until the first reports came back from the battle. operations-sitting upright, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed straight ahead as if he were in a trance. He would remain there until the first reports came back from the battle.

The kamikazes were coming. That much U.S. intelligence officers had gleaned from the intercepted j.a.panese communications. April 6 was supposed to be the day of the greatest ma.s.sed attack yet staged by the kamikazes.

Admiral Spruance put the entire Fifth Fleet on alert. From the radar picket stations to the beaches at Hagushi to the anchorage at Kerama Retto, guns were loaded and pointed skyward. Radarmen in every red-lighted CIC compartment peered into their yellowish green scopes. Lookouts on every ship gazed upward at the scudding clouds. Flights of Corsair and h.e.l.lcat CAP fighters droned over each carrier task group.

Early morning-a favorite time for the kamikazes-pa.s.sed and nothing happened. Afternoon came and the weather worsened. Visibility went down and a northwest wind whipped the surface. A high broken cloud layer obscured the sun, bathing the sea in dark splotches of shadow. Still nothing happened.

Then, a few minutes before 1500, it began. First came the sudden, frenetic radio calls. Radarmen had picked up a wave of incoming bogeys. CAP fighters on the northern stations roared northward to intercept them.

More raiders were showing up behind the first wave. All seemed to be headed southwestward for the Hagushi beachhead and the fleet of transport ships. Their course would take them directly over the northern radar picket stations, called RP1 and RP2.

To Cmdr. R. E. Westholm, skipper of the destroyer Bush Bush, the radar picket station designated RP1 had just become the most dangerous place on earth. Westholm could see them coming, a swarm of dark-colored bandits swinging into an orbit around his ship. They looked like raptors swooping down on an easy kill.

During the predawn hours Bush Bush and her sister ship USS and her sister ship USS Colhoun Colhoun had fended off sporadic night raiders. Those were hecklers, mostly feeling out the defenses of the U.S. fleet. These kamikazes swarming around had fended off sporadic night raiders. Those were hecklers, mostly feeling out the defenses of the U.S. fleet. These kamikazes swarming around Bush Bush were the real thing. were the real thing.

First came the Aichi dive-bombers, code-named "Val." The Val was an obsolete, fixed-gear warplane, easy to identify with its big, flowing wheel fairings. The slow-flying bomber was relatively easy to hit, too, and Bush Bush's gunners flamed two of them. A few minutes later a Nakajima B6N "Jill" torpedo bomber, a tougher target, came skimming in low on the water, somehow penetrating Bush Bush's wall of antiaircraft fire. Westholm swung his ship broadside to give his main battery a clear shot. Every gun on the destroyer was hurling fire at the incoming kamikaze.

Nothing could stop it. The Jill kept coming, weaving and dodging, finally crashing with deadly precision between Bush Bush's twin stacks. The high-explosive bomb penetrated to the forward engine room, killing every man in the compartment and most of those in the two fire rooms. Dead in the water, Bush Bush listed to port, seawater flooding her lower compartments. listed to port, seawater flooding her lower compartments.

From 10 miles away, the destroyer Colhoun Colhoun came racing at 35 knots to help while her skipper, Cmdr. G. R. Wilson, frantically called for more CAP fighters. The fighters a.s.signed to cover them were already engaged with incoming bandits. Now they were running out of fuel and ammunition. came racing at 35 knots to help while her skipper, Cmdr. G. R. Wilson, frantically called for more CAP fighters. The fighters a.s.signed to cover them were already engaged with incoming bandits. Now they were running out of fuel and ammunition.

The stricken Bush Bush was easy to spot. An oily black smoke column marked the position where she drifted, drawing more kamikazes. As was easy to spot. An oily black smoke column marked the position where she drifted, drawing more kamikazes. As Colhoun Colhoun closed with closed with Bush Bush, a swarm of fifteen kamikazes bore down on both ships.

Bush's big guns-her 5-inchers-were jammed. Her gunners blazed away with the Bofors 40-millimeters, and Colhoun Colhoun joined in with her own batteries. It was like swatting hornets. Kill one, and another would appear in its place. The kamikazes were attacking from all directions. joined in with her own batteries. It was like swatting hornets. Kill one, and another would appear in its place. The kamikazes were attacking from all directions. Colhoun Colhoun's 5-inchers scored a hit on a diving Zero, splashing it midway between the two destroyers. "One down, eleven to go," Colhoun Colhoun's skipper remarked.

Colhoun's gunners killed another off the starboard bow, splashing him 50 yards abeam. Then another. But a fourth Zero, diving toward the port bow, plunged into Colhoun Colhoun's main deck, wiping out both 40-millimeter gun mounts and their crews. The bomb exploded in the aft fire room, killing every man inside and rupturing the main steam line.

Colhoun was wounded, but she was still making 15 knots, most of her guns still firing. Her damage control crews were getting the blazes under control when three more kamikazes-two Val dive-bombers and a Zero-bored in from opposite sides. was wounded, but she was still making 15 knots, most of her guns still firing. Her damage control crews were getting the blazes under control when three more kamikazes-two Val dive-bombers and a Zero-bored in from opposite sides.

The two Vals went down in a hail of fire, but the Zero didn't. The kamikaze penetrated the hail of fire and crashed into Colhoun Colhoun's forward fire room. The exploding bomb blew out both boilers, ripping a 4-by-20-foot hole in the hull below the waterline.

Now Colhoun Colhoun was as badly crippled as was as badly crippled as Bush Bush. Each of the stricken destroyers was sending up a tall, unmistakable pillar of roiling black smoke, and the kamikazes seemed bent on finishing them off instead of going after fresh targets.

At 1725, Colhoun Colhoun downed a Zero 150 yards abeam, but at the same time two Vals came swooping through the defensive fire. One clipped downed a Zero 150 yards abeam, but at the same time two Vals came swooping through the defensive fire. One clipped Colhoun Colhoun's after stack with a wing tip, showering the deck with flaming gasoline. The kamikaze's bomb exploded in the water alongside, ripping a hole in the destroyer's hull at the waterline. The explosion and cascade of seawater blew every man off Colhoun Colhoun's fantail.

The second Val was still boring down, but it missed Colhoun Colhoun. Pulling up, the kamikaze pointed its nose at the nearby Bush Bush. Gutted by fire, her main batteries no longer firing, Bush Bush was almost defenseless. The Val hit the destroyer amidships between the stacks, nearly cleaving the vessel in half. was almost defenseless. The Val hit the destroyer amidships between the stacks, nearly cleaving the vessel in half.

Bush was doomed, but the kamikazes weren't finished. At 1745, yet another Zero smashed into the destroyer's forward port side, killing all the wounded men and medics in the wardroom. was doomed, but the kamikazes weren't finished. At 1745, yet another Zero smashed into the destroyer's forward port side, killing all the wounded men and medics in the wardroom.

It was Bush Bush's death blow. Engulfed in flames and settling at the bow, the destroyer abruptly broke in half and sank.

Meanwhile in the gathering darkness, Colhoun Colhoun was fighting for her life. Another Zero, attacking the dying was fighting for her life. Another Zero, attacking the dying Bush Bush, switched targets at the last moment and went for Colhoun Colhoun. Despite withering 40-millimeter fire, the flaming kamikaze exploded into Colhoun Colhoun's port side.

Colhoun was finished. With night coming fast, Commander Wilson ordered his crew to abandon ship. was finished. With night coming fast, Commander Wilson ordered his crew to abandon ship. Colhoun Colhoun was still blazing in the darkness, a beacon for more j.a.panese attackers. She received her coup de grace by gunfire from the destroyer was still blazing in the darkness, a beacon for more j.a.panese attackers. She received her coup de grace by gunfire from the destroyer Ca.s.sin Young Ca.s.sin Young, which had come to rescue survivors.

The ordeal for the crews of the sunken destroyers wasn't over. Many who survived the attacks were terribly burned. In the darkened ocean they clung to the few rafts and flotsam remaining from their lost ships. Because enemy airplanes were still overhead, search vessels couldn't use floodlights to illuminate the area. By the time the rescue operation ended the next morning, a total of 129 officers and men, most of them from Bush Bush, were dead or missing.

The radar picket stations weren't the only scenes of action. From the catwalk outside the bridge of New Mexico New Mexico, Admiral Spruance had a front-row view of the drama off the western sh.o.r.e of Okinawa. CAP fighters had chased four bandits southward from the island of Ie Shima. Almost directly over Spruance's flagship they caught up with them. While Spruance watched, all four kamikazes, one after the other, were shot down in flames.

But more were on the way. Rear Adm. Mort Deyo had already begun moving his fire support ships away from their exposed stations near the Hagushi beachhead. As the force of battleships and cruisers, surrounded by a screen of seven destroyers, moved northward toward Ie Shima, lookouts on the lead destroyer, Leutze Leutze, spotted bogeys eight miles out. Within seconds, the graying sky turned red with the fire of every antiaircraft gun in the force.

The raiders were Nakajima B5N "Kate" torpedo bombers and Ki-43 "Oscar" fighters. They were coming in so low that the lookouts had spotted them before they appeared on radar. Like the first wave, they were going for the destroyers instead of the higher-value targets behind them.

The destroyers in the fore-Leutze and and Newcomb Newcomb-took the brunt of the attack. In the s.p.a.ce of a few minutes, a kamikaze crashed into Newcomb Newcomb's after stack. Another fell to the destroyer's guns, but a third, carrying a larger weapon than the standard 250-kilogram bomb, struck amidships. The explosion blew up both engine rooms and turned the after fire room into a ma.s.s of rubble. Every man in the three s.p.a.ces was killed instantly.

Seconds later yet another kamikaze was boring in on Newcomb Newcomb's port beam, crashing into the forward stack, spraying the entire midsection of the destroyer with flaming gasoline. Newcomb Newcomb became an inferno, spouting flame hundreds of feet into the darkening sky. The smoke was so dense that nearby ships lost sight of the destroyer and thought she had gone down. became an inferno, spouting flame hundreds of feet into the darkening sky. The smoke was so dense that nearby ships lost sight of the destroyer and thought she had gone down.

The destroyer Leutze Leutze came racing to a.s.sist the blazing came racing to a.s.sist the blazing Newcomb Newcomb. As Leutze Leutze's crew was pa.s.sing hose lines to fight the fires, a fifth kamikaze streaked in toward Newcomb Newcomb's bridge. At the last second, a 5-inch antiaircraft sh.e.l.l caught the attacker. The kamikaze veered off, crashing into Leutze Leutze's fantail and exploding.

Now Leutze Leutze was in as much peril as was in as much peril as Newcomb Newcomb. The explosion holed her hull and jammed her rudder hard right. Leutze Leutze's skipper, Lt. Leon Grabowsky, who at age twenty-seven was one of the Navy's youngest destroyer captains, ordered every heavy object jettisoned-torpedoes, depth charges, topside weights-keeping the destroyer afloat so that it could be towed by a minesweeper back to Kerama Retto.

Both tin cans stayed afloat. Back in the Kerama Retto anchorage, astonished sailors gawked at the fire-blackened, shattered hulks. The wreck of a kamikaze plane still lay across Leutze Leutze's fantail. Newcomb Newcomb's number two stack was gone, and her number one stack was bent at a garish angle to starboard. Her fantail was only six inches above the water.

Forty men from Newcomb Newcomb were dead, as were eight aboard were dead, as were eight aboard Leutze Leutze. Neither ship would see combat again.

Like swarms of locusts, they kept coming. Fresh waves of kamikazes threaded their way through the gauntlet of CAP fighters, headed for the ships of the amphibious force off the Hagushi beachhead.

The gunners on the transports lacked the discipline of those on the tin cans and the battlewagons. They were firing helter-skelter, without clear direction, shooting just as enthusiastically at friendly CAP fighters as they were the enemy. Shrapnel from their gunfire was raining back down on the task force, causing almost as much damage as the kamikazes.

Three Kawasaki Ki-45 twin-engine Nick fighters and a pair of Aichi Val dive-bombers made it through the CAP screen, then ran into the storm of fire from the transports. Four were shot down, and the fifth, apparently losing his nerve, retreated back to the north. More showed up to take their place, this time picking on destroyers of the antisubmarine screen.

The tin cans Witter Witter and and Morris Morris each took kamikaze strikes but stayed afloat. Another, each took kamikaze strikes but stayed afloat. Another, Hyman Hyman, was struck in the torpedo tubes, causing a violent explosion. Yet another destroyer, Howorth Howorth, rushing to a.s.sist Hyman Hyman, took a kamikaze in her main battery director. Mullany Mullany, patrolling on the eastern side of Okinawa, also received a crippling kamikaze hit. The stricken destroyers were all dragged back to Kerama Retto, which was beginning to resemble a destroyer graveyard.

To the north, a minesweeper unit was clearing the channel between Iheya Retto and the eastern sh.o.r.e of Okinawa when they came under heavy kamikaze attack. Marine Corsairs from the Fast Carrier Task Force ripped into the attacking aircraft, shooting down twenty.

It wasn't enough. Five kamikazes singled out the destroyer Emmons Emmons. Two dove into the destroyer's fantail, taking out her rudder, and another crashed into the bow. Another flew directly into the destroyer's bridge, killing every man in the CIC. The fifth attacker crashed into the already blazing superstructure.

Emmons was finished. When the destroyer was finished. When the destroyer Ellyson Ellyson came alongside two hours later to rescue survivors, came alongside two hours later to rescue survivors, Emmons Emmons's hulk was still afire. Worried that the derelict would drift ash.o.r.e to an enemy-held beach, Admiral Turner gave the order to sink her with gunfire. Of Emmons Emmons's crew, eleven officers and fifty-three men had been killed.

As devastating as the attacks on the destroyers were, the kamikazes were still missing the bigger game. The anchorage at Kerama Retto where ammunition and fuel ships were cl.u.s.tered like ducks in a gallery came under only sporadic attack. A small landing ship filled with fuel oil was struck and blazed like a beacon through the night. Two thin-hulled Victory ships loaded with ammunition were hit. Their burning cargoes continued shooting tracers and explosions into the night sky until the ships were finally sunk by gunfire.

The real prize, the fast carriers of Mitscher's Task Force 58, made it through the day unscathed. They were operating far enough out in the Pacific that most of the ill-trained kamikaze pilots were unable to find them. Of those who did, most were shot down by CAP fighters or antiaircraft fire.

With nightfall came a break in the attacks. The day had been a sobering demonstration of j.a.pan's most fearsome weapon. The kamikazes had sunk three destroyers-Bush, Colhoun, and Emmons Emmons. Three more-Leutze, Newcomb, and Morris Morris-were damaged beyond salvage. Several other badly damaged destroyers would be repaired and return to service, but only Howorth Howorth and and Hyman Hyman would see duty before the end of the war. Two ammunition ships and an LST went down at Kerama Retto. A destroyer escort, a light carrier, and seven minesweepers had taken damage. would see duty before the end of the war. Two ammunition ships and an LST went down at Kerama Retto. A destroyer escort, a light carrier, and seven minesweepers had taken damage.

The most sobering statistic was the toll of dead and wounded. In all, 367 U.S. Navy men died in kikusui kikusui No. 1, most in a gruesome fashion. For those who weren't killed outright by the attacks, death came from terrible burns, mostly from flaming gasoline and ruptured steam lines. Horribly wounded survivors often spent hours of agony in the water without medical attention. No. 1, most in a gruesome fashion. For those who weren't killed outright by the attacks, death came from terrible burns, mostly from flaming gasoline and ruptured steam lines. Horribly wounded survivors often spent hours of agony in the water without medical attention.

Though American losses in the first kikusui kikusui operation were severe, they were far fewer than what the j.a.panese reported. Radio Tokyo claimed that sixty American ships, including two battleships and three cruisers, had been sunk, and sixty-one more heavily damaged. The attacks were "a blow from which the enemy will never recover." operation were severe, they were far fewer than what the j.a.panese reported. Radio Tokyo claimed that sixty American ships, including two battleships and three cruisers, had been sunk, and sixty-one more heavily damaged. The attacks were "a blow from which the enemy will never recover."

While exaggerating the damage inflicted on the Americans, the j.a.panese high command withheld the facts about their own losses. In the first kikusui kikusui operation, seven hundred airplanes, half of them kamikazes, were thrown into battle. The lives of more than 350 operation, seven hundred airplanes, half of them kamikazes, were thrown into battle. The lives of more than 350 tokko tokko airmen had been snuffed out like expendable candles. airmen had been snuffed out like expendable candles.

The j.a.panese public was not ready for the hard truth about the tokko tokko warriors. Nor was the man who had sent them to their death. warriors. Nor was the man who had sent them to their death.

At 1630 Ugaki roused himself from his command chair. The first wave of tokko tokko aircraft had closed with the U.S. fleet, and reports were being relayed from the battle scene. Ugaki's spirits soared when he heard a scratchy transmission from one of the radio-equipped aircraft had closed with the U.S. fleet, and reports were being relayed from the battle scene. Ugaki's spirits soared when he heard a scratchy transmission from one of the radio-equipped tokko tokko aircraft: "I am crashing on a carrier." aircraft: "I am crashing on a carrier."

This was exhilarating news. At the same time, the airwaves were filled with American radio transmissions about ships under attack and commanders requesting help. It meant that the tokko tokko warriors were hitting their targets. warriors were hitting their targets.

Admiral Ugaki's only disappointment was, as usual, with the army. General Ushijima's 32nd Army wasn't doing its share. Ushijima hadn't launched the promised counterattack on Okinawa in concert with the kikusui kikusui operation. "They didn't move at all," Ugaki complained, "saying that the general attack was to start in the night of the 8th." operation. "They didn't move at all," Ugaki complained, "saying that the general attack was to start in the night of the 8th."

Still, Ugaki was willing to believe in miracles. "The sea around Okinawa thus turned into a scene of carnage," he wrote, "and a reconnaissance plane reported that as many as 150 columns of black smoke were observed, while others described it as difficult to observe them."

The admiral needed no further proof. His tokko tokko airmen had delivered a devastating blow to the American fleet. "It was almost certain that we destroyed four carriers," he wrote that evening. airmen had delivered a devastating blow to the American fleet. "It was almost certain that we destroyed four carriers," he wrote that evening.

Kikusui No. 1 was such a resounding success, Ugaki decided, that it would continue into the next day, supporting the historic mission of the No. 1 was such a resounding success, Ugaki decided, that it would continue into the next day, supporting the historic mission of the Yamato Yamato.