Now both sides would work to turn over the recovered planes, and get more in the air while the daylight lasted. The action had taken over an hour, and it was not until 01:30 that both sides would begin recovery. Then the process began: lifting planes from the hangars to the flight deck, spotting them, placing chocks, recovering and launching planes assigned to CAP, inspecting ordnance loads, warming up the engines, final briefing for the pilots, and finally, about 45 minutes later, the second strike was ready. This time it would be much weaker. Kaga reported it had to suspend flight operations, and could not even receive its incoming planes, which had to be diverted north toward Carrier Division 3, with another nine ordered to land on Efate.
Soryu was still operational, and Akagi unscathed, but they could not get enough planes up to matter against the US defense. The inverse, however, would not be true. Halsey had been appalled at the losses, but was determined to throw everything he had left at the enemy for one more strike. He would turn over 29 Dauntless dive bombers, 17 Avengers and a light escort of 13 Hellcats, and with the enemy defense scattered, they managed to hit the Cruiser Maya and put one 500-pound bomb on the Soryu. Yamamoto’s second wave again came up empty handed, and that was to be the battle.
The Admiral conferred with Ugaki after the last of the American planes had been beaten off a little after 03:30. “We have taken hits, but what is wrong with our pilots today?”
“The weather,” said Ugaki. “Many of the squadrons were unable to find the target, and two could not even find their fighter escorts. Those that did attack reported much stronger defenses over the American fleet, and very thick flak. They have a new fighter, and it is very good. And they are learning, but do not be overly concerned. The damage to Kaga and Soryu is not as bad as it might appear. Neither ship is in any danger of sinking.”
“Unfortunately, the damage to our squadrons is what I now worry about,” said Yamamoto. “Kaga reports the fires will prevent operations for at least another two to three hours, and we do not have enough strike planes left to stay here and continue the fight. I must order this Division back to Rabaul at once.”
“But what about Hara? He still has four carriers to the north.”
“They may continue south, but their first priority will be to cover our division as it moves to Rabaul. I cannot allow the enemy to find and strike this task force again.”
“But sir, the enemy has also suffered. The last wave reported that enemy fighter screens were much lighter.”
“Did they report any hits on the American carriers?”
Ugaki was silent, seeing that a sullen expression had settled on the Admiral. “We should have waited for Hara to close up before we attacked, but that would have meant we had to forfeit the advantage of striking the first blow. Unfortunately, we did not hurt our enemy today, and there were reports of at least four other enemy carriers that have still not been engaged. No. This battle is over. I will move to Rabaul and concentrate on getting Kaga and Soryu back in fighting trim as soon as possible. Hara will not be permitted to face the entire American fleet alone. Order him to follow us once we get northwest of his position.”
“What about the Kawaguchi Detachment from Noumea?”
“Has it landed at Nandi?”
“It was completing unloading operations an hour ago,” said Ugaki.
“Then get those transports back to Noumea, but they should travel well south. We will not be here to contest or cover the normal transit route from Noumea to Fiji.”
Ugaki had a very frustrated feeling, for it was obvious that they had suffered a setback here, though he would not allow himself to speak the word defeat. What if the enemy remained on station, he thought? That would allow them to claim a victory here, though Yamamoto is taking great pains to see to the safety of those two wounded carriers out there. He knows the future war effort depends on them.
“Very well,” he said. “I will see Hara receives the proper orders. At least our intended objectives were fulfilled here. We struck the American airfield at Ndeni as planned, and successfully covered the transport of Kawaguchi’s troops to Fiji.”
“Yes,” said Yamamoto, “and now I wonder how soon it will be before we begin planning their withdrawal.”
There was an uncomfortable interval, for the Admiral had used a word seldom spoken by the Japanese. They had no word for retreat, though it was clear that Yamamoto was not speaking of a redeployment. He meant what he had said.
“Withdrawal? I can see the wisdom in protecting our carriers now,” said Ugaki, “but the issue on Fiji is far from being settled.”
“Is it?” said Yamamoto. “Kawaguchi’s troops were intended to bolster the garrison on New Caledonia. The Army already has two of its best divisions at Viti Levu, but they still need reinforcements. MacArthur has assumed command of those operations, and the Americans now have three divisions in the Fiji group. Who knows when they will bring more troops to that battle. And let us not forget that these divisions relieved their Marines, and they will still have those troops in reserve. Quite frankly, I believe Operation FS has already failed.”
“What?” Ugaki was not willing to concede that, or even seriously contemplate it. “With Kawaguchi’s troops landed on Viti Levu, the Army should be able to counterattack.”
“Do not humor me, Admiral,” said Yamamoto. “I have read the reports of the ground action there. Our airfield at Tavua is already under enemy artillery fire, and they also managed to flank that position through the highlands to attack the field at M’ba. This leaves us with only one operational airfield at Nandi, and intelligence reports that the Americans have three good airfields operational—two of them on Vanua Levu where we have not landed a single soldier. They have over 100 fighters over those islands now, and how many planes are left at Nandi?”
Ugaki knew the answer to that, but said nothing. When the US Carriers moved in, Ugaki had ordered their better Zero Squadrons to move to Noumea. Now there was only a small group of fighters left at Nandi, and they were mostly flying the obsolete AM5s. All the D3As that had been based there were pulled off—just a few planes that remained after trying to get at Suva through those thick American fighter patrols.
Yamamoto had put his finger squarely on the real wound that was promising to be fatal where Fiji was concerned. The Americans had control of the airspace over those islands, and only the arrival of the IJN carriers could contest it. That move had just been checked and repulsed by the American fleet, and both men knew what this meant. Yamamoto was willing to voice it, Ugaki was not, but he understood, deep down, the truth in what his commanding officer was saying.
“We are overextended,” said Yamamoto. “It will now become a question of whether or not we can continue to sustain the army troops already committed to the Fiji operation. The Army is already complaining that we have not sent our battleships to pound the enemy airfield at Suva. Soon they will have much more to complain about.”
“Then we must order our fighter squadrons back to Nandi.”
“Should we? How many landed safely at Noumea? The report I read stated that no more than eighteen planes remain in that group. Where will we find the planes to contest the numbers the Americans now have?”
“We have two squadrons at Tulagi—eighteen more planes there. And there is another squadron at Buin that could be moved.”