NAS Patuxent River, Md. –
After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, which brought the United States into what had been something of a European war and a limited conflict between Japan and China. Shocked and not that well prepared for an increasingly large war, the United States, and particularly the U.S. Navy, especially Naval Aviation, had to play catch-up with its seaborne air assets, especially its carriers, none of which were at Pearl Harbor, where they would have been prime targets for the devastating raiders. By late 1942, however, U.S. shipyards were launching flattop after flattop, and what had been something of a weak showing right after Pearl Harbor became a large force to be reckoned with throughout the Pacific. Carriers of all sizes and classes, carrying hundreds of powerful, capable aircraft, quickly met the heretofore unstoppable Japanese rampage, and, by 1944, the Allies were figuring out how to finally meet the enemy close to—and now on—their very doorstep, even though the cost in men, crews and ships had been huge.
This admittedly simplified tally gives a rough estimate of how many aircraft carriers of all classes the three major warring powers lost in combat—United States: 11; United Kingdom: 7, maybe 8; Japan: 19.
These losses were from aerial bombing and torpedoes, accompanied by gunnery from opposing forces. While Germany and Italy were working on building a small number of carriers, neither nation was able to put them into service by war’s end, and they were lost without going into seaborne operations. For consideration today, the United States, England, Russia and now the People’s Republic of China regularly show off their aircraft-capable ships around the world, making worrisome TV coverage for other countries.
— Cmdr. Peter B. Mersky, USNR (Ret.)
Reviewed by Peter B. Mersky, USNR (Ret.)
After a fairly long, detailed historical introduction on the Pacific War, the author, a former Marine, embarks on a similarly long and detailed discussion of how the light carrier USS Princeton (CVL 23) came to be and the lengthy process of modifying the light cruiser which began in 1942. It was not that well known at the time, but four other ships also bore the “Princeton” name.
Building the light carrier was easy given the wartime atmosphere of constructing as much weaponry as required by the frantic pace of the war in all theaters, including that of the conflict in the Pacific after the loss of several large fleet carriers following the Battle of Midway in June 1942. There were not as many large land masses in the vast reaches of the Pacific as there were in European theaters. The American “island hopping” strategy began to be firmed up, showing how the Allies, especially the U.S.—which took over the lead of prosecuting the war—were going to find or build appropriate air bases from which to launch strategic air strikes against Japanese targets—especially on the “Home Islands” themselves, to achieve victory faster. A fleet of small but capable aircraft carriers were needed to populate the huge ocean as the frantic pace of the war quickened. The goal of reaching a more advantageous geographic position was growing more possible.
It took some time for newly completed CVLs and their air wings to become an effective addition to the Navy’s combat capabilities, along with those of the smaller fleet of British carriers.
Operation Flintlock (Jan. 31-Feb. 3, 1944) against Kwajalein and other tiny islets brought the U.S. fleet closer to the Japanese main land. Page 114 describes Princeton’s first anniversary, by which time the light carrier had been involved in combat—this chapter being almost a book by itself—detailing its service with Task Force 58 under seasoned Vice Adm. Marc Mitscher as it moved ever closer to Japan.
The brief discussion on page 54 of new U.S. Navy aircraft is quite informative and unique, while page 57 describes Princeton’s first actions on Aug. 18, 1943.
The last pages of Chapter 3, “A Time for Battle,” discuss the loss of U.S. submarines by Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) submarines during Operation Galvanic, Nov. 20-23, 1943, which was a bit off the book’s main topic about the Princeton, but covers the incredibly bloody landing on Tarawa’s Betio Island, which became part of Marine Corps battle legend.
Indeed, the chapter is fairly long, describing in great detail continued fighting in and around northern New Guinea as TF-58, including the Princeton, remained constantly on the prowl for individual Mitsubishi G4M (known as “Betty”) bombers, now snoopers, most of which were intercepted by the Princeton’s Hellcats.
Chapter 5 describes the Princeton’s most active squadron, Fighter Squadron (VF) 27, which had first fought in Operation Torch, the invasion of North Africa on Nov. 8, 1942, as a focused, concentrated operation against Vichy, France—the setting for the Oscar-winning movie “Casablanca.”
Details of Operation Forager against the Marianas repeat the misidentification of a Francis P1Y also described in the VF-18 book.
As the great American admirals took control of Forager and other operations against the oncoming IJN task forces, the Pacific War began to accelerate toward Japan. The author never wavers in showing his research into this account. It is truly amazing that three years after Pearl Harbor, when the U.S. Navy seemed to be at the bottom of the sea and only a long, steep climb was the course, America had to take the ultimate victory over a determined and highly dangerous enemy. Terrible, costly confrontations in men and material still lay ahead in the coming months.
On page 166, this late in the book, the author takes time to describe in detail the long fight of Hellcat ace Lt. Dick Stambook, during which he shot down four Zeros and one Judy dive bomber, with judicious quotes from him.
Over Formosa, there was a lot of aerial action with U.S. Navy squadrons claiming large numbers of kills opposed by the same big IJN and IJA pilots flying newly-introduced types like the Nakaima Jill torpedo bombers and Francis bombers, as well as the powerful Nakaima Ki. 44 “Tojo.”
The book continues to its inevitable conclusion: the loss of the Princeton in heavy combat. I have included a few photos that show that action.
A typical day—if any day aboard an aircraft carrier in almost daily combat can be called “typical”—eight VF-27 Hellcats were returning from an early launch to escort nine VT-27 Avengers. Before clearing the fighters to land, the Avengers were moved below to the hangar deck, after which 10 F6Fs were recovered, eight of which had to be refueled along with six TBMs, each armed with a single torpedo.
All of this activity took time that resulted in the Avenger TBMs never being launched, because lookouts on USS Essex (CV 9) signaled a “possible bogey” accompanied by another bogey approaching.
The two “bogeys” soon turned out to be two Yokosuka D4Y Susei (Comet) “Judy” dive bombers, now only a possible 25 miles away. Descendants of the Aichi D3Y “Val” fixed landing-gear dive bombers that ravaged Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, they now had retractable gear and an inline engine instead of the early radial power plant, and carried a single 551-pound bomb on a centerline mount.
The two dive bombers soon released their bombs over the Princeton, but while one bomb missed, the second aircraft’s bomb made a classic hit right between the ship’s two elevators, penetrating the flight deck and exploding in the highly vulnerable hangar deck crammed with other Hellcats and Avengers. It was a perfect hit along the carrier’s centerline.
The blast could be heard and felt throughout the ship, but especially on the bridge. It was obvious Princeton was in serious trouble as every crewman, officer and enlisted, turned to in constantly-rehearsed defensive actions to save her.
The enemy bomb went through the wooden flight deck to the hangar deck, exploding and creating a huge fire fed by gasoline needed to fuel waiting aircraft and spread to cause more explosions that ultimately doomed the ship.
Although the light cruiser Birmingham (CL 62) came close to help fight the fires during the afternoon, there was no hope to save the Princeton. With the explosion and 229 of her crew dead, Birmingham pulled away from the badly damaged carrier, by which time the order had been given to abandon ship, leaving the destroyer USS Irwin (DD 794) to try to pick up the survivors, some between the two ships. The light cruiser Reno (CLAA 96) sent two torpedoes into the Princeton, scuttling her. Finally, at 15:49 (5:49 p.m.), the valiant young carrier sank.
Among the Princeton’s wounded was Capt. John M. Hoskins, who was aboard to relieve the current captain. The Judy’s bomb’s blast had mangled his right foot to the extent the ship’s doctor had to amputate it, even as the wounded officer exhorted his future crew to save the carrier. He would survive to command another USS Princeton (CV-37).
The author continues his incredible, detailed account with analysis of what probably happened in various spaces as the carrier fought for her life, all while her reduced crew dealt with continued Japanese assaults as the burning, smoking hulk refused to sink. However, as “Sweet P” finally did sink, the men of TF-38, led by Adm. William Halsey, continued to fight the numbers of IJN ships that kept coming toward them, still very much a potent and determined force to be reckoned with. Indeed, three destroyers, and two more U.S. Navy carriers were sunk, but her remaining sister ships and crews stayed in the fight.
There is more, but I will leave it to the readers to find a copy of this author’s biography of a fighting ship to see what follows the Princeton’s demise. An excellent account of perhaps not one of America’s best-known ships of World War II, but one worthy of attention in every way.
