THIRTEEN

The Flying Dragon Strike

In the Bombing Six ready room on Enterprise, miles from his own crippled carrier Yorktown, Ensign Oley Hanson worked out the navigation on his plotting board. Scouting reports were filtering in about an undamaged fourth Japanese carrier, and Hanson was eager to get in another attack on the Kido Butai. Fifteen of Bombing Three’s seventeen Dauntlesses had landed on Enterprise after Yorktown was bombed and were thus available for follow-up strikes. Hanson hoped the two missing crews, those of skipper Max Leslie and Lefty Holmberg, had made it on board Yorktown.¹

Chief of Staff Miles Browning pushed for a quick second strike against the Japanese carriers, but Admiral Spruance waited for more definitive news. Once the location report from Sam Adams was in hand, he waited no more. Dive-bombers were readied on Enterprise’s deck, but the staff decided that fighter escorts could not be spared. Spruance also prudently held back his three flyable TBDs after the morning’s staggering torpedo squadron losses. Hitting the Hiryu would depend solely upon the Dauntless boys.

“Pilots, man your planes!” The annoucement came on Enterprise shortly after 1500. Eleven SBDs were armed with thousand-pound bombs and the rest with five-hundred-pound general-purpose bombs. It would be a mixed bag of strikers. Max Leslie of VB-3 was stuck on board the cruiser Astoria. Enterprise air group commander Wade McClusky was wounded and in sick bay. Lieutenant Earl Gallaher, skipper of VS-6, was given the nod to lead the strike group. He held seniority over Dick Best and Dave Shumway, who were academy classmates just behind Gallaher in tenure.

There was no lack of volunteers to fly against the Japanese carriers. Ensign Don Ely, a junior pilot of VB-6, sat in the ready room through the morning’s action with his plotting board in hand, ready to man an aircraft on the next mission. He was pleased to discover that Fred Weber thought the other pilots should have a chance. Ely was disappointed to find, however, that skipper Best wanted his most experienced pilots, and slated Weber to attack the Hiryu. Ely had lost his roommate, Bert Varian, in the morning strike, and now he was destined to once again sit on the bench.²

Dick Best’s 6-B-1 had been hauled back to the flight deck. Jim Murray, who had remained faithfully with his plane, rode it up the elevator topside, where it was spotted aft of Scouting Six’s ready planes. At the moment, the Bombing Six SBDs of Best, Bud Kroeger, and Fred Weber were ready to go. Shumway’s Bombing Three had fourteen of fifteen planes ready for action. Only Bob Elder of VB-3 would not be making this strike. To round out Shumway’s group to three even divisions of five planes, Best loaned out Ensign Stephen Hogan of Bombing Six. Hogan would fly 6-B-12, the Dauntless flown during the morning by Lew Hopkins, who remained on board ship for this strike.

Lieutenant Best became frustrated in the confusion that ensued. He fully expected another three SBDs to round out his VB-6 division. The secondary strike roster, in fact, called for Lloyd Smith’s 6-B-4, Harvey Lanham’s 6-B-10, and Arthur Rausch’s 6-B-17 to be spotted along with Best’s section. In similar fashion, the secondary strike roster also called for Pat Patriarca’s 6-S-13 and Eldor Rodenburg’s 6-S-9 to join Scouting Six for this mission. All five of these SBDs were gassed and armed, waiting on Enterprise’s hangar deck to be lifted to the flight deck.

Gallaher and Best were counting on these extra bombers to boost their striking power. In the rush to launch the strike group, however, there was a foul-up in the operations order being passed to the hangar deck crews. The list that reached the officer in charge did not include any of these five SBDs. Pilots like Rodenburg were briefed on the strike and made their way to the flight deck to discover their mounts were missing. They proceeded to the hangar deck, and found their Dauntlesses armed and ready, with their gunners waiting to be hoisted topside. Once again, young Lew Jones was assigned with Rausch to a carrier strike but they were prevented from departing. “I certainly wanted to go!” Jones said.³

Lieutenant Patriarca, a Pearl Harbor survivor eager for vengeance, argued his case with the hangar deck officer. By the time the snafu was unsnarled, the strike force was already launching. Mike Micheel, after seeing Yorktown get hit, wanted off the ship if more attacks were coming. He said his customary preflight prayer before he and John Dance prepared to set off again.⁴

Enterprise turned into the wind, and at 1525, she launched eight Wildcats for CAP duty, followed by the twenty-five SBDs under Earl Gallaher. Almost immediately, two of his planes began malfunctioning. Norm West of Scouting Six developed engine problems and had to make a forced landing shortly after takeoff. Stephen Hogan soon began to worry that he might have to return as well. Gene Braun, his equally battle-untested rear seat man, was concerned when their dive-bomber’s engine began acting up shortly after they were airborne. Holy mackerel, if we can’t keep up with the formation, we’re dead, he thought. Braun immediately reached for the wobble pump, the hand-operated fluid pressure pump used to prime the engine. “But then it hit me hard. Hogan was already using it to full capacity.” Hogan managed to keep his engine running and held formation with Lieutenant Shumway’s VB-3 first division of Bombing Three.⁵

The two dozen remaining SBDs climbed to thirteen thousand feet for the ninety-minute flight. Don Hoff felt a sense of purpose as he checked over his guns in the rear seat of Jim Dexter’s SBD. The orphaned Yorktown aviators were now mixed with their Enterprise brothers, and together they had a mission of vengeance. We are bound and determined, thought Hoff. We know what that baby—the fourth Jap carrier—did to Yorktown. We are going to pay her back!⁶

Afternoon Strike on Hiryu Enterprise Group: June 4, 1942
SCOUTING SIX (VS-6) FIRST DIVISION
PLANE	PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
6-S-1	Lt. Wilmer Earl Gallaher	ACRM Thomas Edward Merritt
6-S-2	Ens. Reid Wentworth Stone	RM1c William Hart Bergin
6-S-11	Ens. Richard Alonzo Jaccard	RM3c Porter William Pixley
6-S-7	Lt. (jg) Norman Jack Kleiss	ARM3c John Warren Snowden
6-S-16	Lt. (jg) John Norman West*	ARM2c Albert R. Stitzelberger*
6-S-17	Ens. Vernon Larsen Micheel	RM3c John Dewey Dance
6-S-18	Ens. James Campbell Dexter	RM3c Donald Laurence Hoff
BOMBING SIX (VB-6) SECOND DIVISION
PLANE	PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
6-B-1	Lt. Richard Halsey Best	ACRM James Francis Murray
BOMBING SIX (VB-6) SECOND DIVISION
PLANE	PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
6-B-2	Lt. (jg) Edwin John Kroeger	RM3c Gail Wayne Halterman
6-B-3	Ens. Frederick Thomas Weber**	AOM3c Ernest Leonard Hilbert**
BOMBING THREE (VB-3) STRIKE FORCE
PLANE	PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
3-B-13	Lt. DeWitt Wood Shumway	ARM1c Ray Edgar Coons
3-B-15	Ens. Bunyan Randolph Cooner	AOM2c Clifton R. Bassett
3-B-3	Ens. Paul Wahl Schlegel	ARM3c Jack Alvin Shropshire
3-B-16	Lt. (jg) Osborne Beeman Wiseman**	ARM3c Grant Ulysses Dawn**
3-B-17	Ens. Milford Austin Merrill	ARM3c Dallas Joseph Bergeron
6-B-12	Ens. Stephen Clement Hogan Jr.***	Sea1c Eugene K. Braun
3-B-7	Lt. (jg) Gordon Alvin Sherwood	ARM2c Harman Donald Bennett
3-B-8	Ens. Roy Maurice Isaman	ARM3c Sidney Kay Weaver
3-B-9	Ens. Phillip Walker Cobb	AMM2c Clarence E. Zimmershead
3-B-10	Lt. Harold Sydney Bottomley Jr.	AMM2c David Frederick Johnson
3-B-11	Ens. Charles Smith Lane	ARM2c Jack Charles Henning
3-B-12	Ens. John Clarence Butler**	ARM3c David Donald Berg**
3-B-4	Ens. Robert Keith Campbell	AMM1c Horace Henry Craig
3-B-5	Ens. Alden Wilbur Hanson	ARM3c Joseph Vernon Godfrey
3-B-6	Ens. Robert Haines Benson	ARM3c Frederick Paul Bergeron

*Aborted and returned to Enterprise.

**Lost in action on Hiryu strike.

***Bombing Six crew that flew with Bombing Three (VB-3).

The launching snafu on Enterprise was minor in comparison to the strike that departed from Hornet. Walt Rodee’s Scouting Eight had been spotted on the flight deck for launch by 1456, yet moments before Enterprise launched her strike, Ruff Johnson’s eleven VB-8 Dauntlesses returned from Midway. Captain Mitscher proceeded to land his returning aviators by clearing Hornet’s flight deck. Many of Rodee’s senior air crews rode their SBDs down to the hangar deck to make room for landing operations.

Despite the delay, there was much celebrating as Johnson’s SBDs returned. Slim Moore was happy to find his buddy Dick Woodson had survived the morning flight with VS-8, but was stunned that their other close friend, Ronnie Fisher, was among the fifteen TBD crews missing from Torpedo Eight. As his plane captain helped him unstrap from his parachute, he said, “Slim, the torpedo bombers are all overdue.”⁷

“All of them?” Moore asked in disbelief.

“Yes, every one of them.”

The three gunners from Denver had become a close bunch on board Hornet. “Ronnie was the unlucky one of our group,” recalled Moore. “He had joined the ship before Dick and I, and he had been our inspiration.”

Pilot Roy Gee was similarly shocked. He went to VB-8’s ready room after landing with the Midway group, and learned that no planes from Torpedo Eight or Fighting Eight from the morning strike had returned. He paused in the wardroom to look at the empty chairs normally filled by his friends. “It was a sorrowful sight,” Gee said.⁸

Gee had only moments to reflect. An announcement was suddenly made for all bomber pilots to report to their ready rooms. There the pilots were informed that they would be launched immediately to attack the undamaged Japanese carrier, and that no fighters would be escorting this long-range mission. Around 1540, the SBD crews were called to man their planes. This could be VB-8’s first exposure to real combat, Gee hoped.⁹

Scouting Eight’s senior pilots—Walt Rodee, Gus Widhelm, Ray Davis, and others—were among those whose planes were pulled to the hangar deck to land VB-8. Now the flight deck crews swiftly pushed the remnants of the strike group aft into takeoff position. Senior VB-8 pilots Johnson, Moe Vose, and Abbie Tucker similarly were stuck on board ship in the swift launch that ensued.

Lieutenant (j.g.) Fred Bates ended up as the senior pilot of seven Bombing Eight crews launched around 1600. With him were three junior ensigns and only three pilots from the morning carrier strike—Clay Fisher, Ken White, and Roy Gee. Five of the nine VS-8 crews launched had not been a part of the morning “flight to nowhere.” The senior pilot of the sixteen Hornet SBDs launched well behind the Enterprise group was VS-8’s Lieutenant Edgar Stebbins.

Dark-haired and slight, with an odd gap between his two front teeth, Ed Stebbins had left Southern Methodist University in Dallas to fly for the Navy. His Hornet bunch was about half an hour behind the Enterprise group. Mitscher signaled Stebbins to take charge of the Hornet SBDs and proceed on the assigned mission, placing him in his first command role.¹⁰

Lieutenant (j.g.) Ozzie Wiseman.

U.S. Navy

Stebbins lost two SBDs en route. Lieutenant Griff Sexton and Ensign Phil Rusk of Scouting Eight were forced to turn back, leaving fourteen aircrews for the attack.

Yorktown’s Bombing Three was already operating in full harmony with Dick Best and Earl Gallaher’s SBD squadrons. Eight more Dauntless crews of Scouting Five, returning from snooping out the Hiryu force, would join the Enterprise air group.

The team of Lieutenant Johnny Neilsen and Ensign Ben Preston shot up a Japanese scout floatplane—a Nakajima E8N “Dave” from the battleship Haruna—during their return. When they reached Point Option, they did not find their home carrier Yorktown but did spot downed American fliers drifting in a yellow raft. They attempted to direct the cruiser Portland to make a rescue but had to move on due to low fuel. En route toward Enterprise, Neilsen spotted VF-3 pilot Willie Woollen standing in his rubber boat, waving skyward toward his SBD. This time Neilsen was able to guide the destroyer Benham properly toward Woollen’s position and help effect his rescue.¹¹

Neilsen finally took the cut and caught a wire with only a few gallons of gas remaining. He reported to air plot officer Bert Hardin about the two aviators in the raft where Point Option should have been. His and other reports of downed aviators’ positions were collected to report to CinCPac in order to help direct PBYs from Midway to search for the crews. Captain Miles Browning, however, would not authorize this important transmission to be sent.¹²

Other returning VS-5 searchers were able to locate Yorktown, but they were stunned by the sight of their own listing, abandoned carrier. “When I took off, the Yorktown was the fightingest ship in the Navy,” said Dave Berry. “And when I got back, it was dead in the water.”¹³

Afternoon Strike on Hiryu Hornet Group: June 4, 1942
SCOUTING EIGHT (VS-8) STRIKE FORCE (9)
PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
Lt. Edgar Erwin Stebbins	ARM2c Ervin R. Hillhouse
Lt. Ben Moore Jr.	ARM2c Richard C. McEwen
Lt. (jg) Albert Harold Wood	ARM2c Richard Thomas Woodson
Lt. (jg) Ivan Lee Swope	ARM2c Harmon L. Brendle
Ens. Helmuth Ernest Hoerner	ARM3c David T. Manus
Ens. Harold H. White	ARM3c John Stephen Urban
Ens. William E. Woodman	ARM2c Gerald S. McAffe
Lt. Orman Griffith Sexton III*	ARM2c William L. Payne
Ens. Philip James Rusk*	ARM2c John H. Honeycutt
BOMBING EIGHT (VB-8) STRIKE FORCE (7)
PILOT	REAR SEAT GUNNER
Lt. (jg) Fred Leeson Bates	ARM1c Clyde S. Montensen
Ens. Henry John Nickerson	ARM1c Elmer Edwin Jackson
Ens. Roy Philip Gee	ARM1c Donald L. Canfield
Ens. Kenneth Broughton White	ARM3c Leroy Quillen
Ens. Robert Pershing Friesz	ARM1c Clarence C. Kiley
Ens. James Clark Barrett	ARM3c William H. Berthold
Ens. Clayton Evan Fisher	ARM3c George E. Ferguson

*Aborted mission and returned to Hornet.

Scouting Five skipper Wally Short and wingman Carl Horenburger followed an oil slick in to Yorktown. Short moved on to Enterprise to land. Horenburger’s fuel situation was serious enough that he decided to make a wheels-up landing in the water near the cruiser Astoria. “Just as we slowed and started to flare out I took one last look aft and the Enterprise was frantically signaling, ‘PC, PC, PC,’” radioman Lynn Forshee said. He knew that “Prep Charlie” meant for his plane to prepare to land. “We didn’t know it at the time, but she had lost so many planes that she needed every one she could get,” said Forshee. Horenburger pulled back up, banked left, and swung into the Enterprise landing pattern.

We don’t have the fuel to make another go-around, thought Forshee. The pressure is really on Mr. Horenburger. Forshee’s fingers were crossed as his pilot caught the second cable, and the engine died as he throttled forward to start up the deck. Horenburger and Forshee were sent to sick bay for a calming shot of whiskey. Forshee was then led down to an enlisted bunk area, where he crawled into an open bunk. Just before drifting off, he noted the name stenciled on his mattress cover: “Red Durawa.” Gregory Durawa, one of those killed from Torpedo Six, was another young man with whom Forshee had attended radio school in San Diego.¹⁴

Eight VS-5 searchers landed on Enterprise, where they would help supplement the morning’s losses from Bombing Six and Scouting Six. All ten of Short’s scouts returned safely, although the last two pilots—Lieutenant (j.g.) Bill Christie and Lieutenant (j.g.) Hank McDowell—landed on Hornet. “A fouled deck and our extreme shortage of fuel forced us aboard the Hornet,” Christie said. McDowell and Christie, due to their experience, were integrated into Scouting Eight for the remainder of the battle.¹⁵

• • •

Earl Gallaher peered ahead through his windshield and smiled.

Six hours earlier, he had planted a direct bomb on the carrier Kaga—one of the flattops that had launched the strike planes that destroyed his beloved battleship Arizona at Pearl Harbor. Up ahead, Gallaher could see the three burning carriers the Dauntlesses had hit during the morning strike as he approached again. By 1645, just less than an hour after takeoff, he spotted the undamaged Hiryu some thirty miles ahead from his vantage point at thirteen thousand feet.

Nothing could be more satisfying than hitting two enemy carriers in one day. Here is our chance to get that fourth carrier and to repay the call her planes made on the Yorktown, Gallaher thought.¹⁶

Despite his eagerness, he felt it unlikely that the Americans could catch an enemy off guard twice in one day. Gallaher led his sections into a climbing port turn, working his way around to the other side of the Japanese formation to make his approach from the sun and downwind. A downwind dive is usually more accurate and can be made steeper, which makes it more difficult for the antiaircraft gunners, he felt. Gallaher expected the Zero CAP to slice into them at any moment as they climbed to nineteen thousand feet.¹⁷

Weather conditions were ideal: excellent visibility, unlimited ceiling, low scattered clouds at twenty-five hundred feet, and a smooth sea. The SBDs reached attack altitude of nineteen thousand feet, just south of the carrier. Hiryu, known in Japanese as “Flying Dragon,” had five Vals, four Kates, and a Soryu Aichi reconnaissance plane spotted on her deck. A mixed group of twelve Zeros from Soryu, Kaga, and Akagi were on station above Hiryu, while another two Akagi Zeros were aloft in the general vicinity.¹⁸

Lieutenant Gallaher looked over his shoulder to check the dispositions for the final time. Everyone was tucked in and stepped down by threes and sixes. He nosed down toward the pushover point, away from the sun, and made his dispersal order. Enterprise planes would dive on Hiryu, while Yorktown’s Bombing Three was to head for the nearer of two battleships. Gallaher then pulled up and over his wingman to dive. One of his pilots suddenly broadcast a warning: “Enemy fighters attacking from the rear!”¹⁹

It was 1701 as Gallaher plunged at seventy degrees, lined up on the flight deck below as Zeros began slashing into his squadron. The leading Zero overtook the Scouting Six skipper—within spitting distance—and nearly collided with him. The Japanese on Hiryu below suddenly became aware of their danger as the sunlight flashed off the polished SBD canopies. Her skipper, Captain Kaku Tomeo, turned hard to starboard to evade. At the beginning of his dive, Gallaher was feeling confident. A hit is in the bag! Yet, as Gallaher saw Hiryu turn, he tried to toss his bomb ahead of his target by pulling up sharply as he released. His bomb missed the mark and he hurt his already injured back—strained during his morning attack—further in the process.²⁰

Reid Stone also missed. Dusty Kleiss, diving fourth, felt that Dick Jaccard ahead of him landed a direct hit on Hiryu’s forward elevator. Kleiss noted Hiryu’s sharp turn, and aimed his bomb toward where the carrier’s progress would take her. “I don’t know where mine landed, because of the flames from the bomb hit ahead of me,” Kleiss admitted to his diary that night.²¹

Mike Micheel, diving fifth, saw Hiryu maneuvering radically, making his aim more difficult than his earlier effort against Kaga. He was nearly vertical, hanging in his shoulder straps with his rear lifting out of his seat bottom. John Dance called off the altitude during their plunge, and then Micheel threw his SBD into a bit of a skid to starboard to stay on target. He saw no need to try to watch the results after pulling his bomb release. If you skid, you miss. Jim Dexter, next in line, later informed Micheel that his bomb had exploded just off the carrier’s starboard bow.²²

Although some of Scouting Six’s aviators believed that Jaccard had hit her, others thought that Hiryu still showed no signs of damage. Dave Shumway wisely decided to shift targets back to the carrier instead of diving on his assigned battleship. He swung his fourteen Bombing Three planes around to strike. Hiryu’s turn and thick flak had thrown off VS-6, but Shumway sized up his target well as he came in. The Zeros had time to swarm in on the SBDs, and six VB-3 planes were attacked while in their dives.²³

The AA fire was brutal. Shumway was forced to release at four thousand feet. Those following him released closer to two thousand feet, but their first drops were all misses. Shumway’s SBD was hit repeatedly by flak. He feinted toward the ocean as if his plane were crippled, then pulled out at the last instant and took shelter in a nearby cloud layer. His decision to shift Bombing Three from the battleship to the carrier gave the Americans better odds of disabling the last Japanese flight deck. In so doing, however, Shumway’s Naval Academy classmate Dick Best was cut off for the second time this day.²⁴

Best was slightly behind Gallaher’s lead VS-6 division, preparing to push over. He too found that the ships’ AA fire was intense. Everybody is firing. Everybody is madder than hell, he thought. Best knew the Japanese were furious with their earlier carrier losses, but he believed that some ships were firing so low at retiring American dive-bombers they must be holing their own ships in the frenzy.²⁵

Shumway, Cooner, Schlegel, Wiseman, Merrill, and Hogan all dived on Hiryu ahead of Best. Bud Merrill found the confusion over the Flying Dragon to be complete. Three divisions from three different squadrons converged from different directions. “One guy said later that if that had happened during training in Pensacola, the flight instructors would have torn our heads off,” said Merrill.²⁶

Hiryu’s flight deck appeared to Merrill from great altitude to be about one to two inches long. As he started down, however, her size grew in a hurry. At eighteen hundred feet, he toggled his bomb into the smoke and flames erupting from the flight deck.

Shumway, Cooner, and Merrill were all attacked by Zeros during their dives. Steve Hogan of Bombing Six was flying tail-end Charlie with Shumway’s first division. His rear gunner, Gene Braun, felt the whole world would explode as the sky erupted with black bursts of AA fire and swirling Zero fighters. He opened up with his Browning as Hogan pulled out. Braun noted with satisfaction that Ensign Hogan’s bomb was a direct hit.²⁷

Dick Best was right on Hogan’s heels. He was thirteenth to dive on Hiryu as he led Kroeger and Weber down into the middle of Bombing Three’s divisions. Best had avoided another midair collision by pulling his planes up and out as his division was once again cut off by other eager dive-bomber pilots. “Man-made confusion struck Bombing Six again,” said gunner Jim Murray.²⁸

Ensign Fred Weber.

U.S. Navy

Best’s planes became scattered momentarily, and Fred Weber fell astern. Weber, often warned by his skipper about the dangers of straggling, was once again in a bad situation. This time, however, it was no fault of his own. He had checked his dive to avoid stalling as Shumway’s VB-3 planes cut off the VB-6 group. Jim Murray saw that a lurking Zero immediately took advantage of the situation and raked Weber’s plane with 7.7mm bullets. Murray felt the Zero must have hit gunner Ernest Hilbert, as he saw no return fire. Murray motioned for Weber to close in on Best and Kroeger to take advantage of their mutual firepower.²⁹

The Zero approached again, this time firing his 20mm cannon. Murray saw the flames from the Zero’s muzzle flash and opened up with his own rear guns, even though his adversary was still out of range. He was still firing as 6-B-1 pushed over into its dive on Hiryu, leaving him and his twin .30s dangling. Murray tried to steady himself by grabbing the equipment rack with his right hand. As he flailed for his unsecured guns with his left hand, he caught his index and middle fingers between the mount and its securing ring. Yet he had no time to worry about the dripping blood from his gashed fingers as he swung sidesaddle in his seat. In this position, he could not read the altitudes for his skipper, so Best had to watch the altimeter himself.³⁰

Another fighter flashed in as 6-B-1 was diving. Murray saw the Zero pass over their tail without firing. Best dived straight down Hiryu’s flight deck from bow to stern and released his thousand-pounder. Murray saw the flash of their bomb through the smoke as it struck amidships forward of the island. Richard Halsey Best is believed to be the first American pilot to successfully bomb two Japanese carriers in one day.³¹

The results of Bud Kroeger’s drop could not be determined. Diving next, Fred Weber paid the price for being forced out of position. The Zero that blasted his 6-B-2 caused damage from which the young pilot could not recover. “He never pulled out of his dive and at twenty degrees went into the ocean,” Best said. Weber and radioman Hilbert perished in the crash.³²

Behind Best’s section, Bombing Three still had two divisions with bombs to release on Hiryu. Lieutenant (j.g.) Gordon Sherwood led the second division of Roy Isaman, Phil Cobb, Syd Bottomley, Charlie Lane, and Johnny Butler. As they approached the pushover point, Ensign Lane heard someone yell, “Fighters coming ahead!”³³

Ensign Oley Hanson of Shumway’s VB-3 division was caught lagging behind in the strike formation and ended up mixed in the fray of sections diving on Hiryu. Instead of being tail-end Charlie for his division, he ended up behind Best’s section. “Just as I pushed over in my dive, I heard Johnny Butler say that he was being attacked by fighters,” Hanson said. He saw several near misses on the carrier as he dived and was very unhappy to find that his own load was another close miss. His disgust was washed away by the sight of three bombs that quickly ripped Hiryu’s deck. “It was a beautiful sight,” Hanson said. He saw that the Flying Dragon was turned into a mass of flames.³⁴

Ensign John Butler.

U.S. Navy

Charlie Lane’s last vision of Johnny Butler was a momentary wave just as they prepared to roll into their dive. “He was supposed to follow me down,” remembered Lane. “He wanted to be a fighter pilot.” Butler never got the chance, as the Zeros followed him into his dive approach. Murray in Best’s rear seat saw the numerals “12” on the bottom of the wings of Butler’s 3-B-12. A Zero poured lead into the SBD, and Murray saw Butler’s bomb fall free, likely jettisoned as his electrical release was shot away. Butler and his gunner, ARM3c David Berg, were killed as their Dauntless slammed into the Pacific.³⁵

The Zeros gave equal focus to the other diving Bombing Three planes. Gordon Sherwood found that fighters in echelon made sweeping scissors back and forth across his tail. “At the top of my dive a Zero pulled up from the tail of the preceding plane and dove at me,” he said. Two planes behind Sherwood, Phil Cobb was amazed at the tenacity of one Zero that stuck with him during his dive on Hiryu. “He pulled up and made a second run while I was in the same dive,” he said. Cobb pulled out of his dive and found himself in the center of the enemy task force with Japanese battleships firing main batteries at him. He tried to rendezvous with another SBD as he cleared the AA fire, but the dive-bomber’s rear seat man was so spooked by Zeros that he briefly opened fire on Cobb’s approaching plane.³⁶

Another Zero made an overhead pass on Syd Bottomley’s SBD as he prepared to dive. He opened his dive flaps, slowing his plane and causing the fighter to overshoot him. The Zero then pulled up and spoiled the aim of two other Zeros waiting to make runs on Bottomley’s bomber. At seven thousand feet, another fighter appeared and made steep shooting runs against his SBD. Bottomley felt that the aggressive Japanese fighter looked like a falling leaf. His rear seat man, AMM2c David Johnson, used his twin .30s to drive off their attacker. Bottomley released five hundred feet lower than he had during his morning strike on Soryu. This time he thought, I know I can’t miss! Johnson in his rear seat confirmed another direct hit for them.³⁷

It was impossible to accurately assess the hits and misses of each pilot. The tail end of Scouting Six was piled on nearly simultaneously by Shumway’s Bombing Three group and Best’s Bombing Six section. What is certain is that Hiryu was slammed in rapid succession by four thousand-pound bombs, all on the forward third of her flight deck. Nineteen Zero fighters parked in the forward hangar deck added to the devastation aboard Hiryu as fires began raging through her forward section.³⁸

The final two VB-3 pilots in line, Bob Campbell and Bob Benson, saw that Hiryu was hit hard and switched back to the battleship Haruna. They scored only near misses. Fred Bergeron, rear gunner for Benson, found that the battleship had a whole lot more firepower than what he had experienced during his morning dive on Soryu. He returned the favor by unleashing his .30-caliber against the massive warship as Benson pulled out of his dive. “I wasn’t trying to kill anybody,” Bergeron said. “I was just shooting at where the firing was coming from, trying to protect ourselves.”

• • •

It was a shoot-out to escape the Hiryu task force. The mixed bag of Enterprise/Yorktown SBDs were jumped by at least a dozen fighters after their pullouts. They believed them to be both Zeros and Messerschmitt 109s, a mistaken identity. From Shumway’s first division, Ozzie Wiseman was last seen being chased by Zeros after making his bomb drop. Neither he nor his radioman, ARM2c Grant Dawn, were seen again.

Dusty Kleiss of VS-6 was also attacked following his pullout. Johnny Snowden in his rear seat put out a heavy barrage of machine-gun fire that set the Japanese fighter’s engine to smoking. The enemy pilot gave up the fight but was soon replaced by a second one. Kleiss poured on full throttle and did not let the fighter gain any ground on his SBD. Kleiss joined up with several other Dauntlesses for the return flight.³⁹

Oley Hanson cleared Hiryu’s immediate area, and heard Joe Godfrey open up with his rear guns. He quickly jinked left and right before diving for the water. Hanson saw a long string of machine-gun bullets hitting the water to his left and decided to seek safety. He tightened up on two other SBDs, and the mutual firepower of their tail gunners was enough to convince the Zero pilot to break away.⁴⁰

Dave Shumway was pursued by a Zero that stayed with him through much of his retirement. Several 20mm shells tore through his plane’s right wing, damaging the right dive and landing flaps, as well as his right elevator and stabilizer. His right main gas tank was holed and fuel began streaming out. Another shell exploded in the SBD’s baggage compartment, throwing shrapnel into Shumway’s rear gunner, ARM1c Ray Coons. Some of the Zero’s 7.7mm slugs holed the plane’s nose section and fuselage as well. Despite the extensive harm to his plane, Shumway doggedly fought his 3-B-13 all the way back to Enterprise.

Gordon Sherwood was chased for eight minutes but managed to escape damage. Bud Merrill was less fortunate. His rear gunner, Dallas Bergeron, became fully engaged with two Zeros. Merrill, who had flown a bombless SBD in his morning dive on Soryu, had successfully delivered his load against Hiryu. Now his Dauntless and Bergeron paid the price for that delivery. Small-caliber fire ripped through their SBD before it was rocked by a pair of 20mm shells that struck just aft of Bergeron’s rear cockpit. Explosions frayed the plane’s control cables and sent shards of shrapnel slicing through Bergeron’s compartment. One piece of hot metal lodged in the young Texan’s left leg and another in his right ankle. Merrill applied full throttle and dived into a cloud bank, where he was able to shake off his pursuer.

Ensign Randy Cooner came under hot fire from a trio of Zeros. A 20mm shell ripped into his rear cockpit and exploded in the radio transmitter. His gunner, AOM2c Clifton Bassett, was seriously wounded in the right knee. Another 20mm shell hit at the base of their SBD’s fin, exploding in the baggage compartment and shredding their life raft. Cooner suffered a slight leg wound from fragments of his own plane in the explosion. Although weak from blood loss, Bassett stayed with his twin .30-caliber guns and shot up a Japanese seaplane that moved in to attack their Dauntless after the Zeros departed.

Earl Gallaher was chased throughout his dive by a Zero, which roared past so close as he pulled out that Gallaher could almost reach out and touch its belly. Gallaher soon collected five other SBDs and used a low-speed, low-altitude retirement. “This time we made no effort to deceive the Japs and headed straight for our task force,” he said.⁴¹

Four American bombs had landed ahead of Hiryu’s island structure, leaving her forward elevator jammed up against the bridge. Dusty Kleiss observed the flight deck flipped backward like a taco. The forward third of Hiryu’s deck was a blazing pit of fire. The strike that mortally wounded this fourth Japanese carrier of the day cost the Americans three Dauntlesses and six lives.⁴²

For six survivors of the attack on Pearl Harbor flying among Gallaher’s and Best’s squadrons, the mortal wounding of the Hiryu was sweet revenge. Fred Weber, a seventh veteran of December 7, perished in his attack. Leaving the carrier behind, blazing in the Pacific, the ragged formation of Bombing Six, Scouting Six, and Bombing Three triumphantly turned for their shared home—the flight deck of USS Enterprise.

• • •

Roughly twenty minutes after the Enterprise group completed its dives on the enemy carrier, Ed Stebbins arrived overhead with his sixteen Hornet SBDs at 1730. Roy Gee was happy that his predecessors had cleared the upper altitudes of Zeros, leaving Bombing Eight with an unopposed approach. He saw that Hiryu was “completely on fire.”⁴³

Stebbins directed his group toward other suitable target ships. He led VS-8 toward an escorting cruiser and signaled Fred Bates that VB-8 should attack the heavy cruiser Tone. Bates led his squadron down from out of the sun from fifteen thousand feet and landed his bomb fifty feet off the starboard bow. His wingman, Ensign Henry Nickerson, dropped his bomb one hundred feet astern. Gee was credited with a hit on Tone’s stern as he dodged the orange balls of ack-ack popping up at him. He proudly thought, Bombing Eight has lost its combat virginity.⁴⁴

Ensigns Ken White and Robert Friesz of VB-8’s second section both missed, but Ensign Clark Barrett claimed a hit on her starboard quarter. Japanese records, however, show that the Hornet strike achieved nothing better than near misses. Clay Fisher, the last of his squadron to dive on Tone, pressed the electrical bomb release switch at low altitude. Nothing happened. His bomb was hung up. Fisher nearly blacked out from the heavy g-forces as he frantically pulled back on the stick to recover from his dive. He crossed three hundred feet over the fantail of a Japanese destroyer as all of its guns blasted away at him. Shrapnel splashed like huge raindrops in the water below his plane. His SBD’s tremendous acceleration allowed Fisher to safely clear the AA fire, and he finally shook off his hung bomb with the manual release.⁴⁵

Fisher and Gee were surprised to see clusters of explosions erupting in the water near the cruiser during their dives. They would later learn that a group of Midway-based B-17s had made a high-level bombing run at the same time as Hornet’s SBDs were attacking. The exuberant Army pilots claimed one hit and two near misses, and a destroyer as sunk. A second wave of B-17s also attacked, claiming more hits on the carrier and her escort ships. Yet postwar analysis would show that the Army bombers had hit nothing.⁴⁶

• • •

Dick Best continued to the west for ten to fifteen miles after hitting Hiryu. He did not want any Zeros to come back at him when he was all alone. Swinging out to the south to give them a wide berth, he spotted smoke columns on the horizon. He dropped down for a closer look and was rewarded with a satisfying sight. There are the three carriers we hit this morning, and they’re all still burning! Bombing Six’s skipper hung around only briefly to soak up the scene—the fine results of his lifetime of training.⁴⁷

Best escaped Japanese fighters during his return to Enterprise, only to be jumped by eager American CAP Wildcats who mistook him for the enemy. “We were at least ten miles out when the Wildcats closed on our tail,” Jim Murray said. “I recognized the fighters as F4Fs and hoped they would recognize us.” Best opened up on his radio and convinced the friendly fighters that his plane belonged where it was. “I had to call them off savagely,” he said.⁴⁸

Mike Micheel of Scouting Six watched his navigation like a hawk during his return flight, still wary of his narrow return to Enterprise from the morning strike. Earl Gallaher noticed an eerie sight as his SBDs approached the U.S. task force. There sat poor Yorktown with only a guardian destroyer—as though waiting for the planes above to make their report. “She reminded me of a ghost ship,” said Gallaher.⁴⁹

Best flew close by Yorktown, allowing his radioman to get a good look at the abandoned carrier. Murray had served on CV-5 for nearly three years while a member of her Torpedo Squadron Five. “This brought tears to my eyes, seeing my old home in such shape,” he said.⁵⁰

At 1820, Enterprise began recovering some of her CAP fighters. Behind them came the first of the twenty-one SBDs to return from the Hiryu strike. Sunset was approaching as the last of the planes came aboard after more than three hours in the air. Gallaher landed with only about a gallon of fuel remaining and a badly wrenched back. “The pain was so severe that I couldn’t reach down to put my hook down,” he said. He turned the lead over to Reid Stone and flew around trying to lower his hook while the others landed. Gallaher did not dare touch down without his hook because of the terrible barrier crash he would endure. He knew that a water landing was out of the question. I probably will not be able to get out of the plane.⁵¹

Finally reaching the hook handle in desperation, he almost passed out from the pain. He made an admittedly shaky landing and had to be helped out of his Dauntless by the flight surgeon, Lieutenant (j.g.) David P. Hightower, and two corpsmen. His back ached so badly he could hardly move. Gallaher was grounded, and he knew that it was the end of the battle for him.⁵²

The Enterprise strike group returned with the exception of Bombing Six’s Fred Weber and two pilots of VB-3. Charlie Lane made it down after having exhausted his starboard fuel tanks. He was spent, having flown ten and a half hours that day and eight hours the preceding day. Randy Cooner’s gunner, Clifton Bassett, was lifted from his bullet-riddled plane by corpsmen, placed on a stretcher, and hustled toward sick bay, where his right leg wound could receive proper attention.⁵³

Gunner Fred Bergeron was concerned for his brother. The SBD that Dallas Bergeron had flown in had not returned. The Texas teenager spent anxious moments wondering whether he had lost his older sibling. “It was thought that everybody that was coming back was there,” he said. Finally, Bud Merrill’s battered Dauntless appeared on the horizon and the Big E turned into the wind to recover it. Deck crews swarmed over the plane as Fred counted numerous bullet holes in his brother’s dive-bomber.⁵⁴

Dallas Bergeron (left) with his brother, Fred, receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross for their action at Midway.

Courtesy of Fred Bergeron

Dallas was unable to climb out of the rear cockpit. His flight suit was splattered with blood from bullets that had lodged in his left leg and right ankle. He was lifted out and taken below to have the slugs surgically removed, although some shards of shrapnel would remain in his legs for the remainder of his life. Fred busied himself that evening with gathering razors, toothpaste, soap, and other personal supplies for himself, his brother, and another of their wounded VB-3 comrades, Clifton Bassett. “All of our possessions were on the Yorktown,” said Fred. “It was pretty bad knowing you didn’t have anything left except the clothes on your back.” He delivered the grooming supplies to sick bay, where Dallas was lying in the bunk beside Bassett.

The trio of Bombing Three gunners found comfort in the fact that they had survived two bombing attacks that helped sink four Japanese carriers. “It had been a very hair-raising day,” Fred said. Three of VB-3’s Dauntlesses—those of Shumway, Merrill, and Cooner—were deemed inoperable for further combat.

Dick Best was the last of the afternoon strike group to return. He did not reach Enterprise until 1834 due to his lengthy detour to view the other three blazing Japanese carriers. At first, Jim Murray could not understand the peculiar looks from some of the flight deck crew. He soon learned that their plane had been reported shot down over Hiryu by some of the first strikers to return. Murray was further surprised as he climbed out of his rear cockpit to hear Lieutenant Best say, “I may need some help.”⁵⁵

A flight deck crewman joined Murray in helping Best to the deck. After his pilot was guided down to sick bay, Murray was left wondering what was wrong. He climbed back into 6-B-1’s rear cockpit and sat for several minutes, reflecting on the day’s events. He finally headed below to the chiefs’ mess for dinner, stopping by sick bay to receive his “medicinal” shot of hundred-proof bourbon.⁵⁶

Chief Murray was in such a daze that he had even forgotten to have the medical staff look at his lacerated left hand, pinched in his gun mount during the Hiryu attack. He reached the CPO mess for dinner and ate in silence. “It was a weird feeling sitting there eating, having the chiefs and cooks look at you as if you were a ghost,” he said. They respected his silence, however, and only nodded at him. Murray, unable to muster any words, could only nod in return.⁵⁷

Hornet began landing the fourteen SBDs of Ed Stebbins’s strike group at 1857. Seven Dauntless squadrons had attacked the Japanese fleet during the day, including one Marine bunch from Midway. Some thirty-five SBDs and about forty aviators had been lost. The three carrier fighter squadrons had lost nineteen Wildcats and five pilots, while thirty-seven of the slow TBD torpedo planes had gone down on June 4. As for the Japanese air groups, many of their planes had been shot down in aerial combat, and others were forced to ditch. Those who made it back on board their ships would ultimately go down with their carriers.⁵⁸

It had been a decisive day of retribution for the Dauntless airmen. In a matter of hours, they had completely wrecked four IJN flattops that had participated in the Pearl Harbor assault six months prior. Some 2,181 Japanese sailors perished with the loss of Akagi, Kaga, Soryu, and Hiryu—a death toll that almost equaled the number of Americans killed on December 7.

• • •

The afternoon of June 4 did not end gloriously for the downed Scouting Six crew of Ensign Frank O’Flaherty and his gunner, Bruno Gaido. Around 1630, the cruiser Nagara spotted a life raft in the water and ordered the destroyer Makigumo to investigate. The destroyer duly effected the rescue of the Enterprise SBD crew under orders to interrogate the Americans “to ascertain the enemy’s situation and then dispose of them suitably.”⁵⁹

Makigumo’s surgeon treated various wounds on O’Flaherty and Gaido and the crew shared cigarettes with the Americans. During their subsequent interrogations, Lieutenant Ryuhichi Katsumata threatened the aviators with a sword when they refused to answer questions. The VS-6 duo gave up no details of importance about the American carrier forces, but did offer creative information about Midway’s defenses that proved to be fairly accurate.⁶⁰

Commander Isamu Fujita decided he had extracted all he could from the American aviators. A call for executioners found no willing volunteers following the battle of Midway, as Makigumo was headed toward the Aleutian Islands. Some were even promised the borrowed cigarette lighter of Ensign O’Flaherty (a single man), which had been inscribed, “To My Matchless Husband.” Late at night, O’Flaherty and Gaido were taken on deck, blindfolded, weighed down with five-gallon kerosene cans filled with water, and thrown overboard. Makigumo’s navigation officer, Shigeo Hirayama, later stated that the Scouting Six aviators showed no sign of fear as they were tossed to their deaths.⁶¹

Dusty Kleiss would long mourn the loss of squadron mate Bruno Peter Gaido, who had been promoted on the spot by Admiral Halsey on February 1 for shooting down a kamikaze. They had met when the pilot was making his first carrier qualification landings. Gaido volunteered to join in his rear seat for the landings. “I’m supposed to have only sandbags,” Kleiss had protested. “You got wings, ain’tcha?” Gaido retorted as he replaced the sandbags with his stout frame. “Peter Gaido was the bravest man I ever met,” Dusty said.⁶²

• • •

Ensign Tom Wood of Hornet’s VB-8 and gunner George Martz were still paddling as evening approached, having managed to cover more than a dozen miles in toward Midway in their rubber raft. They had gone into the water when their SBD ran out of fuel following the long morning mission. They reached the reef opposite Sand and Eastern islands around dusk, but found that they were still miles from solid ground. To complicate matters, the reef they had to cross with their rubber boat was occupied by a massive bull sea lion.⁶³

Luckily, Wood and Martz still had their shoes. They waded to the reef carrying the rubber boat. The sea lion, ignoring their shouts, refused to move from the one easy high point where they planned to cross the reef. Both men were very tired, wet, and hungry. “Finally, I went up to him, kicked him in the rear, and the huge creature flopped into the water after several kicks,” said Wood. The airmen removed their clothes to put on the reef to protect their rubber boat. “Meanwhile, the sea lion bull was swimming around and around the reef raising all kinds of hell,” Wood said. “I still laugh when I think of the picture of two bare-assed people sitting on the rock and the bull circling and barking like the devil.”

The Bombing Eight aviators managed to dodge the sea lion and paddle the remaining way into Midway Island. The last leg of their voyage was not without incident, however, as they spotted a huge shark following their raft. The shark was still trailing them when they approached the dock. Wood was greatly relieved to spot a small personnel boat chugging out to pick them up. He stood up and fired six shots at the shark with his .45-caliber pistol. When the boat approached them, a Marine was standing in the bow manning a .50-caliber mounted machine gun that was trained on them. “Neither he nor I could ever figure why he didn’t blow us out of the water when I started shooting,” Wood said. “Needless to say, personnel on the island were very trigger-happy on 4 June and it was quite dark.”⁶⁴

Martz and Wood reported in to Colonel Ira Kimes of the Marine Corps and offered their services to help with the personnel losses on Midway, since their own bombing squadron had long since flown back to Hornet. Kimes greeted Ensign Wood with a “welcome aboard” before handing him a bottle of Old Crow whiskey.⁶⁵

Wood’s squadron mate Ensign Troy Guillory was more fortunate. He was discovered at sea by a Midway PBY from Patrol Squadron 23, piloted by Lieutenant (j.g.) Harold W. Lowe. Guillory nearly shot the PBY with his Very pistol when it appeared Lowe was going to leave the SBD crew in the water after circling several times. The VB-8 aviators had spent some seven and a half hours in their life raft when they were discovered around 1930.⁶⁶

Lowe was eager to get his PBY back into the air as quickly as possible due to Japanese forces in the area. When he noticed Guillory struggling to pull his rubber raft into his flying boat, Lowe impatiently snapped, “Turn that damned thing loose!” Guillory shot right back with, “This damned raft got me this far. I’m not about to let it go!” Lowe’s PBY returned to Midway with Guillory and Billy Cotrell safely aboard, and Guillory slept in a foxhole for much of the night.

• • •

The Hornet, Enterprise, and orphaned Yorktown SBD aircrews were exhausted by day’s end. Aboard the Big E, Wally Short’s fliers moved into the nearly vacated Torpedo Six quarters for the night, and the Enterprise and Yorktown pilots relived their day’s successes over evening chow. A cheer rang out when a dispatch was read over the PA system from CinCPac congratulating them on sinking four carriers in one day.⁶⁷

On Hornet, Bombing Eight gunner Slim Moore listened to the scuttlebutt in the radio shack regarding the fate of Torpedo Eight’s aviators. They all had Mae Wests and life rafts. Maybe some of them are alive in the ocean.⁶⁸

Slim, hurting for his best friend, Ronnie Fisher, wandered around like a lost soul that evening. I don’t think I’m ever going to see Ronnie again, he thought. They say those guys might be out there, but I don’t believe anybody survived an attack like that.

Moore eventually drifted up to the VT-8 pilots’ ready room. The door was open, so he strolled in. As he gazed about the empty briefing room, his eyes settled on the large chalkboard at the front of the compartment. He focused on what he believed must have been skipper Jack Waldron’s last message to his fallen Torpedo Eight pilots. Printed in large yellow chalk letters was a single command:

ATTACK!

On Enterprise, Charlie Lane of Bombing Three was worn-out. Assigned the room of one of Torpedo Six’s lost pilots, Lane first noticed the man’s family pictures and a Bible on his desk as he entered the stateroom. Lane realized he would never see his own keepsakes—a 1940 Clemson graduation ring and his Hamilton watch, left aboard Yorktown that day in case he never came back. The shot of brandy from the Enterprise medics helped him forget about these things and drift off to sleep.⁶⁹

Gunner John Snowden of VS-6 felt a twinge of depression while he lay among the empty bunks. He had lost many good friends in the morning battle over the carriers, and retired with a profound sense of personal loss.⁷⁰

Snowden’s pilot, Dusty Kleiss, having made two carrier attacks, was relieved to finally get some rest. He noted in his diary, “I took a slug of whiskey and turned in.”⁷¹