6/19/44: Day of days

19 JUNE 44

It is the cataclysmic ecstasy of conflict in the flier, not the perfection of his machine gun, which drops the enemy in flaming ruin. — Major George S. Patton, The Secret of Victory, March 26, 1926

Remaining 100 miles west of Saipan, Princeton and TG 58.3 steamed in night anti-torpedo attack cruising disposition 5-VN.

“At 0217 USS ENTERPRISE and LEXINGTON commenced launching aircraft for a 275 mile search to the westward” in search of the enemy fleet they knew was approaching. With the benefit of hindsight and knowledge of the excellent position reports being communicated by our submarine forces, one is not wrong to ask why our air patrols were having such a difficult time finding the Japanese fleet.

But I can tell you, the ocean is incomprehensibly vast.

While the Enterprise and Lexington search efforts, which would reach their limit some 60 miles short of the Japanese fleet, were winging west through the darkness, another more personal human drama was developing aboard Princeton.

“At 0225 man reported overboard; destroyer pickets ordered to search area marked by float light and life ring. … At 0255 picket destroyers reported search for man reported overboard from the vessel negative.”

With the multiple Task Groups all maneuvering in relatively close proximity, Princeton was unable to conduct a man overboard count until 0810 at which a “muster of crew on stations revealed one man missing: WONG, Edward Chong, MM1c, USNR, lost overboard at 0225 in Latitude 14˚30’ N, Longitude 142˚ 47’ E.”

On Thursday July 27th, 1944, five weeks after going overboard, Machinist Mate First Class Wong’s hometown paper, the Springfield [Massachusetts] Weekly Republican published the notification delivered to his family:

Edward Chong Wong, 23, an American-born Chinese, is missing in action in the South Pacific, according to a telegram received by his mother, Mrs. Lou Shee Wong of 40 Main street, from the Navy department. A Machinist's Mate, First Class, Wong had been serving in the navy since September 1942. Born at Dover, N.H., he came here with his family six years ago and attended Northampton High School. Until entering the service, he was manager of his family's restaurant, the Pagoda. Two brothers are also in the service. One, William, is in the merchant marine, while Tom, the oldest, is with the army in Hawaii.

Edward was the son of Chung “John” Wong and Lou Shee Wong and the 2nd of six brothers — Thomas, Frank, Walter, Alfred and William. He is memorialized in Section 21 of the Green River Cemetery alongside his parents and all of his brothers except Thomas. His name is also inscribed on a panel at the Courts of the Missing at The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Honolulu, just 7 names above another Princeton man who would perish in the same waters on this day.

The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, aka “The Punchbowl” in Honolulu, Hawaii

Individual enemy aircraft had approached the American Task Force  at random intervals during the night, but it was unclear if they were approaching from Guam or from carriers to the west. In Carrier Down, Marsha Clark writes:

At 0600, 19 June, a lone bogey was tallyhoed by and F6F pilot from Princeton’s sister ship, the Monterey. The enemy plane was shot down before it could reach the task force. A second bogey was brought down by gunfire from a screening destroyer. The two intruders did not appear part of a Japanese carrier-based flight.

After a brief lull, plane and shipboard radios crackled with excited transmissions. Fighter pilots from the Belleau Wood, flying combat air patrol over Guam, reported a flight of enemy planes coming in from the southwest, believed to be reinforcements from Truk. Fighters from the carriers Cabot, Yorktown, and Hornet were told to join the Belleau Wood Hellcats.

In the resulting dogfights, thirty-five enemy planes were destroyed in aerial combat. The Princeton’s F6Fs, on combat patrol over the task force, could only listen to the tallyhoes and “splash” reports from the other squadrons.

At 0820 Admiral Mitscher, ComTaskForce 58, ordered all Task Groups to ready 12 Hellcats each for a fighter sweep and attack on Japanese installations on Guam. Much to the chagrin of Fighting 27’s pilots, USS Lexington’s fighter squadron was chosen for this mission.

For the next two hours, Princeton’s fighter pilots orbited overhead the Task Force at maximum endurance airspeeds, leaning out their mixtures in order to save as much fuel as possible for potential combat. And then…

“At 1010 a larger group of unidentified aircraft was reported bearing 260˚, distant 150 miles, closing, first reported by battleships in Task Group 58.7. This was believed to be the major Japanese effort to oppose our invasion of the MARIANAS which had been anticipated from intelligence gathered from submarine reports of surface forces including carriers which had left the vicinity of the Philippines. ComTaskForce 58 ordered all carriers to prepare to launch all available VF aircraft.”

At 1019 all 15 carriers turned east into the wind and every fighter was positioned for launch. General Quarters was called away at 1025.

The War Diary continued: “At 1026 commenced launching aircraft, followed by USS LEXINGTON at 1027 and USS ENTERPRISE at 1028.”

1030: “Enemy aircraft designated Raid I was reported bearing 265˚, distant 72 miles, closing.”

1033: “Raid I was reported bearing 263˚, distant 63 miles, closing.”

At 1036, Admiral Mitscher communicated to all ships of the Task Force to “Expect repeated attacks. Keep fighters available to repel these attacks, landing planes as necessary.”

At this point, 20 of Princeton’s 25 fighters and 4 of 9 bombers were airborne, leaving her deck open and available to bring aboard any low on fuel or battle-damaged aircraft.

Air Group and Fighter Squadron CO Lieutenant Commander Wood was leading three divisions of VF-27 Hellcats, 12 aircraft, while the remaining two divisions were led by Squadron second-in-command, Executive Officer Lieutenant Frederic Bardshar. (recall that a Division consists of 4 and a Section 2 aircraft)

1039: “Raid I was reported bearing 270˚, distant 48 miles, intercepted by CAP from this vessel, and reported to consist of about 40 enemy aircraft.”

Lt. Cdr. Wood’s 12 Hellcats were tasked with this intercept and immediately vectored west. The Action Report narrative describes what happened next (Note: there are almost always slight differences - times, altitudes, distances, numbers of aircraft, etc. - between the ship’s diary, which is recorded in real time by bridge watch standers, and the Air Group’s Action Reports, which are gathered by intelligence officers who interview pilots face-to-face after they have recovered aboard ship):

"Three divisions of F6F’s of VF-27 were on Combat Air Patrol over Task Force 58 on 19 June 1944 near Saipan Island, Marianas Islands, when radar contact was made with a large group of enemy aircraft. The CAP planes were vectored toward the approaching enemy formation, and interception was made at 1000. The enemy force consisted of 30 to 45 fighters, dive bombers and torpedo bombers, flying at approximately 20,000 to 23,000 feet about 40 miles from Task Force 58 when encountered."

Acknowledging guidance provided by Princeton’s fighter director, Wood had climbed his 3 divisions to 25,000 feet in order to gain altitude advantage on the enemy formations.

Wood was, by all accounts, widely admired by his men for his upfront leadership style, exuberance and aggressive nature. He rarely said no, often leaving the more difficult decisions to Bardshar. Before transitioning to the Hellcat, Wood had shot down a German ME-109 while piloting an obsolete and much less capable F4F Wildcat during the invasion of North Africa in late 1942. While acknowledging his skill, some of the more experienced pilots of Fighting 27 were concerned that he didn’t grasp, or chose not to respect, the limits of the Hellcat. (Recall Lt “Smoke” Kleffner’s remark after being shot down over Guam after Wood had dragged him across the Japanese-held Agana Airfield at 200 feet and 300 knots that “Woodie didn't have any sense of the limitations of the plane.”)

Carrier Down’s description of the engagement provides further detail:

For the Air Group Commander, the moment he had been awaiting impatiently was about to arrive. … As he gave a jubilant tallyho, Wood punched the throttle past the firewall and rolled over for the attack. In seconds, he pulled away from his wingmen as he hurtled down at incredible speed. Suddenly his Hellcat plunged into a huge cloud mass. He was lost from sight momentarily. When the plane reappeared, a portion of the tail was missing, and fragments of fabric and metal floated through the air.

It was not clear what had happened — a mid-air collision in that great cloud, too much speed, or too much turbulence for the plane to bear? Whatever the cause, Wood’s F6F continued its frightening course toward the sea, and his fellow fliers could spot no hoped-for burst of white parachute silk.

A fine line exists between aggression and risk. Today Naval Aviation excels at identifying that line and allowing — correction: encouraging — its pilots to fly their machines as close to that line as possible. In wartime 1940’s pilots to man aircraft were needed yesterday, so identifying that line while in training was likely not the highest priority.

Lt. Cdr. Ernest Wetherill Wood, Jr., puncher of Nazis, approver of unauthorized but iconic tiger mouth Hellcat nose art, artist, musician, preacher’s son, husband to “Tootie”, patriot, was 28 years old. He is memorialized both in the Courts of the Missing in Honolulu and at Saint Anne’s Cemetery in Annapolis, Maryland.

While Lieutenant Commander Wood was declared missing on 19 June, 1944, absent recovering his body, per Navy custom he was officially declared dead 1 year and 1 day later. Hence the 20 June, 1945 date on his gravestone.

After leading his pilots into the fray, Wood’s wingmen did him proud. The Action Report continued: “An air battle developed during which VF-27 pilots shot down 15 enemy planes and accounted for three assists and one probable.”

Shortly after Wood’s divisions met the enemy, Bardshar’s 8 Hellcats were vectored to another raid, estimated to be 30 to 40 in number. In the melee that followed “VF-27 accounted for 14 more [enemy] shot down, two assists and five probables.” During the chaotic swirl of this engagement, one Princeton flier popped out of a group of scattered clouds and found himself separated from his compatriots and staring at a dozen enemy planes:

“…Lieutenant Lamb, discovered a formation of twelve enemy torpedo planes previously unreported. In spite of the fact that he was alone and had only one gun functioning, he flew formation on the enemy group, reported their location, course and speed to the Task Force and then shot down three of the enemy aircraft before other friendly fighters arrived. He had previously shot down another enemy plane and scored a probable during the same air battle.”

Both Princeton and Lexington radars had seen what turned out to be a large number of Zekes (Mistubishi A6M Zero fighter) at 22,000 feet. What Lt. Lamb had stumbled upon was a formation of Kates (Nakajima B5N torpedo bomber) which the Japanese had cleverly “stacked” at 11,000 directly below the fighters and whose altitude differential had not been picked up by the FDO (Fighter Direction Officer) of either carrier.

We had a saying during my time in the Navy: I’d rather be lucky than good. And while it was only a half-truth (we all wanted to be good), fortune smiling on one was always a welcome occurrence.

After finding himself lucky, Lamb quickly proved to be good as well. Realizing that the fleet he was charged with protecting was unaware of this threat, before attacking he calmly radioed back the position and composition of the enemy attackers. For this Lamb would deservedly earn the Navy’s second highest decoration, the Navy Cross.

Navy Cross Citation

The President of the United States of America takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Lieutenant Commander [then Lieutenant] William Emerson Lamb, United States Navy, for extraordinary heroism in operations against the enemy while serving as Pilot of a carrier-based Navy Fighter Plane in Fighting Squadron TWENTY-SEVEN (VF-27), attached to the U.S.S. PRINCETON (CVL-23), in action against enemy Japanese aerial forces west of the Marianas Islands during the First Battle of the Philippine Sea on 19 June 1944. After shooting down one plane and damaging another of a large group of enemy aircraft attempting an attack on his Task Force, Lieutenant Commander Lamb became separated from his fighter division and, while flying alone, overheard instructions to a friendly formation of planes to intercept a second large enemy group. Immediately flying toward an estimated point of interception, he suddenly discovered a formation of twelve previously unreported enemy bombers and, flying formation on the group until certain his Task Force had received his continuous reports on their position, course and speed, opened fire despite the inoperable condition of fire of his six guns and shot down three planes. Upon arrival of other United States aircraft, he led repeated attacks which dispersed the formation and destroyed all but one or two of the remaining bombers. By his airmanship and determined aggressiveness against tremendous odds, Lieutenant Commander Lamb contributed materially to the success of his squadron in this historic engagement, and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.

Far from the aerial action over the Task Force, VF-27’s last, and 30th, kill of the day would come courtesy of Lt. Carl A. Brown who, while his three wingmen strafed anti-aircraft positions near the runway at Rota Airfield, destroyed a Tony as it prepared to land.

The adrenaline rush and excitement of this combat was tempered by the loss not only of their Commanding Officer, but by the failure to return of Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Van Buren Carter.

Part of the initial dozen aircraft to engage the enemy, details of Carter’s death are minimal, the War Diary describing only that he was missing in action and “last heard from while engaging a group of 12 Japanese dive bombers.” The Action Report provides no specifics of his loss, other than noting his failure to return. According to the account in Carrier Down, Carter had been flying in a division being led by Lamb, one of the three divisions commanded by Wood and “was not seen again after the initial frantic moments of the air battle.”

Lt(jg) Van Buren Carter, 25 years old, was born on the 4th of July, 1918 in Macon County, North Carolina. He was the son of Silas Weaver & Mamie Lee Carter and brother to Rudy and Cyrus.

There is a minor discrepancy in the accounting of each kill as the Action Report contradicts itself slightly. All agree that Princeton accounted for 30 downed Japanese aircraft, each claimed by Air Group pilots: 13 Zekes, 5 Kates, 7 Tonys and 5 Judys.

Read it and weep!

However, earlier in the Action Report is the following statement, attributing 3 kills to Princeton’s gunners:

“At 1156, three low flying (plus one diving) enemy aircraft penetrated the screen of TG 58.3, apparently intent on dropping torpedoes and/or bombs at this an other carriers. One Judy was shot down by guns from this ship and the ENTERPRISE, and immediately thereafter, 2 Jills, making a torpedo attack on PRINCETON’s starboard beam, were shot down by this ship’s starboard batteries. At 1202 a single Jill attacked from starboard. While PRINCETON was turning hard right to head at the plane and present a smaller target, a wing was shot off by our batteries and the plane crashed ahead. A torpedo was seen to drop from this plane prior to crash. The score for PRINCETON’s anti-aircraft batteries for the day was 3 Jills destroyed, and an assist on the Judy.”

There is much photographic evidence which supports the claim of kills being credited to ship’s batteries. I believe the photo below, when compared with the Action Report diagram above, confirms that despite the official description, the CVL in the center right is indeed Princeton during the action described at mid-day on 19 June. The destroyer to the center left can also be seen in the two photos further below, both of which are included in the Action Report.

Title: Battle of the Philippine Sea, June 1944. Caption: Anti-aircraft fire from USS ENTERPRISE (CV-6) during a daylight attack by Japanese torpedo planes, 19 June 1944. Small splash in center marks the crash of one of the aircraft. Light carrier at right is either PRINCETON or SAN JACINTO. Description: Catalog #: NH 95788, Copyright Owner: Naval History and Heritage Command, Original Date: Mon, Jun 19, 1944

Either way, it had been a good day for both the Air Group and the Gunnery Department of The Peerless P!

At the commencement of hostilities on this day, Task Force 58 consisted of 15 aircraft carriers and 900 aircraft, of which 452 were Hellcat fighters. 20 of these Hellcats, a mere 4.4% of the Task Force’s fighter complement, were from Princeton’s Air Group 23.

Naval historian and author Barrett Tillman writes:

On 19 June Mitscher’s Hellcat pilots and fighter directors conducted a near-perfect defense, repelling four Japanese raids totaling some 326 aircraft. Simultaneously, Japanese land-based planes also were hunted to destruction. It was the Hellcat’s greatest moment — in the space of several crowded hours U.S. carrier pilots claimed 380 kills (368 by F6Fs), dwarfing any other one-day score in American history.

Princeton, a “Light Carrier” built on a Cruiser hull, had punched above her weight, being credited with just over 8% of the enemy aircraft destroyed by Hellcat pilots on the day.

By approximately 1500 it had already been an unforgettable “day of days” for the Sailors and Airmen of the Task Force.

Princeton’s War Diary recorded, incredibly, that “The only damage known to have been inflicted on this Task Force by enemy air attacks was a single bomb hit reported by USS SOUTH DAKOTA in superstructure with no loss of combat efficiency resulting.*”

In late afternoon, ComTaskForce 58 sent a message to all ships of the fleet:

“The Aviators and ship’s guns of this Task Force have done a job today which will make their country proud of them. Their skillful defense of this Task Force enabled the Force to escape a vicious well coordinated air group attack carried out with determination. MITSCHER.”

Fighter plane contrails mark the sky over Task Force 58, during the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot phase of the battle, 19 June 1944. Photographed from on board USS Birmingham (CL-62). Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives.

The threat of attack having been turned aside for the moment, leadership did what was expected by the men on the pointy and, and what families and citizens back home in America were promised. At 1533 Princeton “completed launching 1 VF and 1 VT to make special search for missing pilots.” For the next 4 hours these two aircraft, along with similar efforts from the other carriers and surface ships of the fleet, would scour the seas for survivors, with mixed results. On fifteen aircraft carriers, squadronmates waited anxiously for word of their missing brethren. A lucky handful would experience joyous reunions. At 1904, nine minutes after local sunset, darkness began to fall on the fleet while Princeton completed the recovery of “1 VT and 1 VF from special search mission, the results of which were negative.”

During a debrief with Admiral Mitscher aboard his flagship Lexington, VF-16 Hellcat pilot Lt(jg) Ziegel “Ziggy” Neff unwittingly gave the battle it’s unofficial but accurate and universally accepted name, describing it as “just like and old time turkey shoot.”

At 2042, Princeton secured from General Quarters and preparations began for what tomorrow would bring.

By 2207 “fleet course changed left to 260˚ and fleet speed changed to 23 knots; TaskForce now proceeding westward to attempt to gain contact with Japanese surface force.”

Admiral Mitscher, having dealt a devastating blow to the enemy’s air power, was now anxious to do the same to Japanese surface forces. The Great Marianas Turkey Shoot had another day to run its course. It would also become a part of Navy lore, but not in the way one might imagine.

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* Proof that history cannot be written in real time, but only after sober reflection and analysis, the attack on USS South Dakota, while not extensive, resulted in the death of 27 and injury to 23.