The World War 2 Mission to Settle a Grudge
By: Dave Taubler
Tags: World War II, Life, History, Aviation, Military

Leading into the Second World War, Yamamoto had been a strong promoter of military aviation within Japan. Although he is most closely associated with naval aviation — it was naval torpedo bombers, dive bombers and fighters that made the attack on Pearl Harbor, after all — his biggest influence was with land-based, army aviation.

In particular, he saw a strong need for long-range aircraft — bombers as well as escort fighters — to stem the advance of adversaries like the U.S. before they could approach the Japanese mainland. This lead to the development and production of Japanese aircraft such as the famed A6M Zero fighter, and the G4M Betty bomber. The development of such long-ranged aircraft necessitated a light design with little armor. Coupled with the fuel required to make long missions, the aircraft tended to catch fire easily when caught in a stream of 50-caliber machine gun or 20mm cannon fire.

Japan’s G4M Betty had an excellent range, but had little armor and was known to catch fire easily when hit. (Wikimedia Commons)

It was somewhat ironic, then, that a flight of such planes — two Betty bombers and six Zero fighters — took off from Rabaul at 8:00 am the morning of April 18, 1943. They were headed for Balalae. Yamamoto was aboard one of the Bettys.

Twenty-five minutes later, a flight of eighteen P-38s began speeding down the runway at Kukum Field, Guadalcanal. The pilots had been divided into two groups. Four would be assigned to the killer group, which would attack the bombers. The killer group consisted Barber and Lanphier, as well as Lt. Jim McLanahan and Lt. Joe Moore. The remaining pilots were led by Mitchell, and would serve as the cover group to deal with the escort fighters.

Almost immediately, two of the P-38s — both of which were assigned to the killer group — dropped out. McLanahan’s tire blew out upon take-off, whereas Moore’s external drop tanks failed to provide fuel to the engines. 1st Lt. Raymond K. Hine and Lt. Besby F. Holmes moved into position as spares. The sixteen remaining P-38s sped along at wavetop level, in tedious silence, for nearly two hours.

The longest interception ever made

The Japanese flight came into view at 9:34, having just begun its ascent. The escort fighters were trailing the bombers slightly, and about 1500 feet higher. The P-38s were still at wavetop level at this point. So the American pilots jettisoned their tanks, opened the throttle, and climbed to meet the flight.

Despite its twin-engine design, the P-38 was a relatively quiet aircraft. Rather than the typical growl of piston engines at the time, the P-38s engines produced more of a whoosh. That’s because each engine was muffled somewhat by turbo-supercharger. That turbo-supercharger, in turn, gave the P-38 not only excellent high-altitude performance but the means to climb quickly to that altitude.

So the cover group was still apparently undetected when it climbed to 18,000 feet. The killer group, meanwhile, whooshed to meet the two bombers. Holmes was unable, at first, to jettison his tanks, so was unable to press his attack. Barber and Lanphier sped on towards the bombers.

By now, the attackers had been spotted by the Japanese pilots. The Zeroes had jettisoned their own drop tanks, and were diving on the two attacking P-38 pilots. Lanphier turned to engage in the fighters, while Barber continued to pursue the bombers. Positioned behind one of the Bettys, he fired, his machine guns and cannon fire raking the rear of the bomber. Firing again, Barber struck the left engine, which burst into flame.

The Betty then rolled suddenly towards Barber’s P-38. Barber had to maneuver away to avoid a midair collision. For this reason, he never saw the bomber carrying Yamamoto — at this point, already dead from two .50-caliber wounds — actually crash to the jungle below.

Meanwhile, Holmes had managed to jettison his drop tanks, and was pursuing the second Betty, which had turned towards the water and dove low to try to evade interception. With Hines as his wingman, Holmes fired into the bomber’s right engine. However, his airspeed caused him and Hines to overshoot the bomber before he could fatally damage the Betty. Barber sped in and engaged the damaged Betty. The bomber went down and crash-landed in the water.

Mitsubishi A6M Zeroes, similar to those that escorted Yamamoto’s bomber (Wikimedia Commons)

Both bombers had been downed. But the P-38s were still engaged by the Zeroes. Barber wound up with over one hundred bullet holes from the flight, but he and Holmes each claimed one Zero downed (Japanese records dispute that any Zeroes were lost in the interception, although some were damaged). The cover group also briefly engaged with the Zeroes as well, but scored no kills. During the battle, Mitchell — the leader of the cover group — confirmed that Yamamoto’s bomber was downed, burning in the Bougainville jungle.

Mitchell at one point also spotted Hine, with one engine smoking and three Zeroes attacking him. He disappeared from the squadron after that, presumably lost. Oddly, a crewmember of a PBY Catalina flying boat out on patrol later that same day later reported seeing a single, shot-up P-38, heading for Guadalcanal. That was likely the last contact anyone had with Hine.

Running low on the fuel needed to make it back home, the P-38s disengaged and headed back out across the sea.

The Aftermath

Yamamoto’s body was found the next day by a Japanese search and rescue team. It had been thrown clear of the Betty’s wreckage, and his hands still grasped his trademark katana. The Japanese public was told of his death over a month later, on May 21. That Yamamoto was killed by a bullet wound to the head was left out of the story.

Not surprisingly, news of Yamamoto’s death was devastating to Japanese morale. With the Americans, on the other hand, the news would be met with elation. The problem was, many of the mission’s details had to remain secret.

Controversy one: secrecy

Operation Vengeance had begun with an intercepted and decoded Japanese radio transmission. The U.S. Military Intelligence Service (MIS) had been already cracking Japanese codes for the better part of the war. Had the truth of how the U.S. learned of Yamamoto’s flight surfaced, the Japanese would be aware that their codes were being cracked.

Moreover, the U.S. — theoretically — should not have known that Yamamoto was in one of the Bettys that was shot down. In fact, most of the personnel involved in Operation Vengeance — including all but a few pilots in the “killer” group — were told that Yamamoto was their target. The rest were simply told that they were going after a “high-value” target. As for how the U.S. learned about this “high-value” target? The men were told that Australian spies hiding in the jungles of Rabaul had spotted the flight being readied.

Hatred of Yamamoto in the U.S. was fueled by propaganda posters (this one actually misquoting Yamamoto) (Wikimedia Commons)

This secrecy was put at risk before the P-38s even landed back at base. Lanphier, dangerously low on fuel, still managed to perform a victory roll over the field before landing. He also radioed in a message: “That son of a bitch will not be dictating any peace terms in the White House.” Upon landing, he jumped out of the cockpit and confirmed that the “son of a bitch” was, indeed, Yamamoto.

Members of the ground crew may have speculated over who the target was, but it was now all but confirmed. News spread quickly. The pretense that the U.S. didn’t know who they had downed was soon dropped. Still, the U.S. had to maintain the facade that the mission was sheer luck. The story of the Australian spies became the official account. Over the following month, regular P-38 flights were sent to Balalae to give the appearance that the U.S. was routinely patrolling the area.

Still, the truth seemed itching to reveal itself. Barber and Lanphier were given ten days’ leave after the mission, which they spent in New Zealand. After a day of golfing with Brigadier General Dean Strother, the trio was approached by an Associated Press reporter, J. Norman Lodge. Lodge said he was writing about the mission. He had most of the information he needed, he claimed; he simply wanted to clarify a few details with the two pilots.

Initially apprehensive, they were reassured by Strother that any story would have to be passed by military censors. In fact, the General advised Lodge not to bother writing his story in the first place. So Barber and Lanphier opened up and answered all of the reporter’s questions.

And Lodge wrote his story.

Indeed, as Strother had warned, the story never passed the censors and was quashed. But the censors were reportedly somewhat stunned at the amount of detail Lodge had obtained. Had the story actually been published, the Japanese would almost certainly have discovered that their secret communications had been compromised.

Barber, Lanphier, and Strothers were summoned to meet with Admiral Halsey. Upon their arrival on Halsey’s flagship, the admiral ripped into the trio with a barrage of profanity. They were traitors who should be court-martialed; they should be jailed; they should be stripped to the rank of private. In the end, none of those happened, although Halsey did withdraw his recommendation of Medal of Honor for the two pilots, replacing it with the less prestigious Navy Cross.

Amazingly, the Japanese accepted the U.S. cover story seemingly without thinking twice. They never realized that their secure communications were, in fact, compromised. And the MIS was able to continue breaking their codes throughout the war.

Controversy two: who actually shot down Yamamoto’s plane

Immediately upon landing after the mission, Lanphier claimed credit for downing the bomber carrying Yamamoto. In his report, he claimed to have briefly engaged with the flight of Zeroes, downing one, before turning back to the bombers. He flew at a right angle to the lead Betty, fired at it, and sent it crashing into the jungle.

The wreckage of Yamamoto’s G4M “Betty” bomber (Wikimedia Commons)

Lanphier also reported seeing Barber down a second bomber, which also crashed into the jungle. Barber, for his part, claimed to have downed a bomber while Lanphier was engaging with the attacking Zeroes. Holmes subsequently claimed credit for the Betty that crashed into the sea. For this reason, U.S. intelligence initially assumed three Bettys were shot down that day.

This account of the events lasted through the end of the war. Eventually, however, contradictory evidence began to surface. Kenji Yanagiya, the lone Zero pilot from the battle who survived the war, confirmed that only two Bettys were involved in the flight. Japanese records indicated that no Zeroes were lost in the battle, casting doubt on Lanphier’s claim of shooting one down. Moreover, there were no eyewitnesses — either on the U.S. or the Japanese side — to Lanphier’s claimed downing of any of the bombers. Finally, subsequent analysis of the bullet holes in the first bomber seemed to support Barber’s description of the event.

Eventually, Barber and Lanphier were each given half-credit for downing the Betty that had carried Yamamoto (likewise, Barber and Holmes were each given credit for downing the second Betty). Indeed, perhaps Lanphier did witness Barber fatally attacking the lead Betty, only to fire upon the already-stricken bomber himself after engaging with the Zeroes.

The controversy might have ended there. But as a common friend of both Barber and Lanphier later revealed, Lanphier had written numerous magazine articles, along with an unpublished book manuscript, in which he claimed sole credit for downing Yamamoto’s plane. With growing evidence to the contrary, Barber — who otherwise had been content sharing credit for the kill — pushed back and began seeking sole credit. In 1991, he petitioned the US Air Force. The Air Force ruled that there was too much uncertainty to do so.

Still, most historians today have concluded that Barber alone downed Yamamoto’s plane. While the official record still shows shared credit, Barber’s version has become the generally-accepted one. Moreover, Lanphier’s claim of downing a Zero was subsequently revoked (which meant that, since that Zero would have been his fifth and final kill of the war, his status as an ace was also revoked.)