1942

To ensure secrecy, his ships kept total radio silence, and the enforced loneliness preyed on his doubts, causing him moments of near despair. Despite maintaining a stoic exterior, Nagumo was terrified that the Kido Butai would be located and either forced to withdraw in shame or defeated by the angered Americans, who had many more battleships than he.

While he commanded six carriers, Nagumo was still convinced that the battleship, and not the upstart and unproven carrier, was the queen of battle. No modern Japanese fleet had ever been defeated, and Nagumo had a deathly fear that his would be the first.

With luck and skill, they had made it to the launch point without detection. Incredibly, they caught the Americans by surprise and quickly eliminated the American battle line. The American battleship force in the Pacific was destroyed in an overwhelming victory for the Empire of Japan.

So why then was he still in turmoil?

Again, he knew the answer to his own dilemma. Along with some of his senior admirals, the young Turks in his command wanted more. They did not agree with him that the battleships were their main objective; they weren’t satisfied with what he considered a total victory, and Nagumo was afraid that their greed would ruin him.

However, Nagumo felt compelled to listen to two of the most vocal of his critics. Commander Minoru Genda had planned the attack and was a protege of Yamamoto’s. Genda had fervently argued that the next war, the one Nagumo had just started, would be fought with carriers, and not battleships, as the main protagonists. Genda had been ill; otherwise, he would have been in a plane observing the battle. The thirty-seven-year-old commander was fearless as well as brilliant.

Nagumo thought Genda’s idea was preposterous, but then he reminded himself that he commanded six carriers whose planes had just destroyed at least that many battleships. It was very disturbing, and he acknowledged the irony that he now worried about the American carriers, and not their battleships.

The second voice that had to be listened to belonged to Lieutenant Commander Mitsuo Fuchida. Fuchida was thirty-nine, flight commander of the Akagi, and had commanded the first wave over Pearl Harbor. His excited voice had signaled that the surprise had been absolute. Fuchida’s uniform was dirty and strain showed on his face, but his eyes were bright, and Nagumo knew the younger man was like a tiger yearning to be unleashed.

Nagumo shook his head. “We have overstayed our welcome. We must depart before the Americans locate us and attack. Our carriers are precious and cannot be squandered. Had the American carriers been in Pearl Harbor and had they been destroyed, there would be no question about launching another attack. As it is, Halsey’s carriers could be approaching us as we speak and could be preparing a devastating attack. Even a thief,” he added with a grim smile, “knows not to return to the scene of the crime.”

“We are warriors, not thieves,” Genda said softly, in a voice that was nearly a hiss. It was important that others in the vicinity not hear their argument. “We have six carriers to their two, and, more important, we are operating as a unit while they departed Pearl Harbor singly. Any American attack would be piecemeal and easily contained. Also, the Americans have no battleships to protect them while we have two. Let the American carriers find us and we will destroy them as completely as we destroyed their battle fleet.”

Nagumo reluctantly agreed with Genda’s math. Along with the Akagi, the other five Japanese carriers were the Kaga, Shokaku, Zuikaku, Hiryu, and Soryu, and they carried a total of 423 combat planes in a deadly mix of fighters, bombers, and torpedo bombers. The two battleships were the Hiei and the Kirishima, and they would easily out-gun any other surface warship the Americans now possessed. America’s big-gun ships lay in the muck of Pearl Harbor.

The missing American carriers were the Lexington and the Enterprise, which had only recently departed Pearl Harbor. Japanese intelligence, as provided by spies from their Honolulu consulate, had proven excellent.

Genda was correct that the two American carriers had only a third of what his six carried and that they were at sea in two separate commands. The Americans had not yet learned the principle of unity. Divide and be conquered appeared to be their strategy.

Genda declined to mention that a third carrier, the Saratoga, might also be in the area, although it was more likely she was still off California. Such information might have further upset his surprisingly timid admiral.

“Admiral,” Genda continued in a whisper, “with utmost respect, may I speak freely?”

The comment broke the tension, and Nagumo smiled at the intense young man, whom he genuinely liked. “Has it ever been otherwise, Genda? You have always spoken your mind.”