Neptune's Inferno_ The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal Part 3

When Anthony saw Lieutenant Thompson again, he was dead, "blown clear through a wire mesh and his body wrapped around the main steam stack." His left arm and leg useless, bleeding and in severe pain, Anthony entered the machine shop and found bodies two-men deep. He wondered how he had survived, and soon found that it was only because he had somehow managed to snap the chinstrap of his gas mask that he would live with the curse of being a sole survivor. Poisonous gases killed everyone else. Anthony pulled himself through an escape hatch to the main deck by the starboard side galley. "I sat there and listened to hits coming in left and right overhead. Everything was burning."

Lieutenant Jack Gibson described "a roar like an express train in a tunnel" as a j.a.panese sh.e.l.l hit the main battery director's control station. "It came right through it, clipping off the steel stem of the sight-setter's stool and dropping him swearing to the deck. In the half-dark I could see him clawing at the rear of his pants to find out if he was all there." A voice with a Tennessee tw.a.n.g drawled, "That'll teach you not to be settin' when yo' betters are left standin' up."

"We didn't have long to laugh," Gibson wrote. "Our director was so jammed we couldn't move it."

Bathed in the glare of the enemy's carbon arcs, Joe Custer was lazily aware of men huddled around him. From them came "an overtone of m.u.f.fled sounds, like mumbled prayers," he wrote. "There was a crash of an exploding sh.e.l.l right around my ears, and the sudden rat-tat-tat of unseen fragments ricocheting all about me, like steel popcorn sprayed up against the inside walls of a cage. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them whistling by and spattering off the overhead."

He remembered his premonition that he would be wounded, but realized then, too, that he would not die. The chief radioman guided him past a large gash in the deck and seated him behind turret two, which provided a loom of shelter even as it shattered his world now and then with blasts from its three muzzles. Then the chief led him down a boom to the main deck, but then turret two raged again, producing "a crus.h.i.+ng explosion" right above him. The deck heaved as Custer shuffled down the boom, using his hearing to gauge his progress. "Look out for my leg," a sailor nearby said. Custer forced his good eye open and saw through his own blood a chubby sailor in dungarees, his right leg hanging by a shred below the knee. As the sailor sat down on the forecastle, soaked in gore, Custer wondered how the end would feel. If I have to go, If I have to go, he thought, he thought, let it be quickly. let it be quickly.

Lieutenant Gibson, stationed in the main battery director, could scarcely stand from the slippery blood on the metal deck. "In flashes of light I could see some of my men, dead with their earphones still on. They had stepped to the door to see what was happening and had taken shrapnel through the chest. The smoke and heat were unbearable in our iron box, but we still tried to get our guns into play. First-cla.s.s fire controlman Wade Johns reported huskily, 'I can see 'em, sir!' It was more than I could do. My gun pointer and gun trainer were at their places straining to get their cross wires lined up, and my sight-setter sat on his metal stool. I noticed wounded men on the floor trying to drag themselves up to their posts."

The sixth salvo hit Astoria Astoria's turret one, forward-most on the forecastle. It absorbed three projectiles, including two to the barbette below the gun house, and one straight through the eight-inch-thick Cla.s.s B armor on the faceplate, killing almost everybody inside. The hits came fast and furious for the next few minutes, slowly disabling the s.h.i.+p's fire-control apparatus. When turret two jammed in train, Captain Greenman found he could only direct his guns by turning the s.h.i.+p's rudder. As he ordered the helm around to enable the jammed battery to match bearings with the director, the Astoria Astoria's twelfth and final salvo was fired, rather futilely, by local control.

The Astoria Astoria's engineers struggled to coax full battle speed out of the besieged s.h.i.+p. The chief water tender, Milton Kimbro Smith, had just lit off the two standby boilers in the number three fire room. He was still looking to bring them online when an explosion rocked the compartment. Shrapnel rained down through the gauges of a control panel. Smoke washed over him, funneled down through the ventilation blowers.

At the main generator board in the forward engine room, chief electrician's mate Gilbert G. Dietz heard scuttleb.u.t.t that the topside decks were awash with flames. The compartment directly above him was trembling from repeated impacts. The blowers were fighting a losing battle to bring breathable air below. Sparks showered around him, and circuit breakers jumped out. The engineering s.p.a.ces, fully dependent on forced ventilation, were choked from above. The Astoria Astoria had reached fifteen knots when her power plant began to fail. had reached fifteen knots when her power plant began to fail.

Men without masks gasped and fell to the deck grating, struggling. Smith cut the supply of fuel oil to the burners and sounded the emergency alarm. Crew in the number two fire room succ.u.mbed to waves of smoke. Shrapnel rained in a hail down the blower trunk. The heat forced the crew in the after engine room to abandon station. When a sh.e.l.l penetrated a kerosene tank en route to exploding in the after mess hall, the combustible liquid leaked all over the well deck. It caught fire and flowed through a hole in the main deck, spreading below. A fire room, an engine room, two more fire rooms, and another engine room-they died in that order. Soon the Astoria Astoria was coasting to a tortured stop. was coasting to a tortured stop.

Matthew J. Bouterse, the Astoria Astoria's junior chaplain, described a din of "steel piercing steel in a shower of fire and lightning bolts and the groans of a great s.h.i.+p in her death throes.... The steel bulkheads were alive with that lightning as they bled streaks of fire." Smoke was everywhere, and it overcame him. "I became aware I couldn't hold my breath any longer," Bouterse recalled.

By 2:08 a.m. Greenman's s.h.i.+p was down to seven knots. He could see the Vincennes Vincennes in the lead, brightly ablaze amids.h.i.+ps, just as bad off as his s.h.i.+p was. On the port bow, swinging right, appeared the in the lead, brightly ablaze amids.h.i.+ps, just as bad off as his s.h.i.+p was. On the port bow, swinging right, appeared the Quincy. Quincy. A wholesale ma.s.s of fire, Captain Samuel N. Moore's s.h.i.+p was still firing intermittently. Greenman could see that as the A wholesale ma.s.s of fire, Captain Samuel N. Moore's s.h.i.+p was still firing intermittently. Greenman could see that as the Astoria Astoria drew ahead of the drew ahead of the Quincy, Quincy, he was at risk not only of moving into her line of fire, but of a collision, too. He ordered a hard right turn to let the he was at risk not only of moving into her line of fire, but of a collision, too. He ordered a hard right turn to let the Quincy Quincy draw ahead. With the turn, the j.a.panese s.h.i.+ps the draw ahead. With the turn, the j.a.panese s.h.i.+ps the Astoria Astoria was firing on pa.s.sed astern. Tracking them, Commander Truesdell in the forward main battery director found he couldn't see past the large fire amids.h.i.+ps. He ordered control pa.s.sed to director two aft, but they were blind as well. was firing on pa.s.sed astern. Tracking them, Commander Truesdell in the forward main battery director found he couldn't see past the large fire amids.h.i.+ps. He ordered control pa.s.sed to director two aft, but they were blind as well.

Just as the Astoria Astoria pa.s.sed the pa.s.sed the Quincy Quincy to starboard, a salvo struck the to starboard, a salvo struck the Astoria Astoria on the starboard side of the bridge superstructure, hitting the pelorus. Quartermaster Donald Yeamans was thrown ten feet and hit the deck with his right eardrum blown out. The blast felled the entire bridge watch to their knees, killing the navigator and several others. The s.h.i.+p careened for a time, guideless. Then the boatswain's mate, dizzied, regained the helm, turning left on orders from Greenman, trying to find the on the starboard side of the bridge superstructure, hitting the pelorus. Quartermaster Donald Yeamans was thrown ten feet and hit the deck with his right eardrum blown out. The blast felled the entire bridge watch to their knees, killing the navigator and several others. The s.h.i.+p careened for a time, guideless. Then the boatswain's mate, dizzied, regained the helm, turning left on orders from Greenman, trying to find the Quincy Quincy and re-form the column. When the boatswain told his captain he was feeling weak and could not hold on, Greenman ordered steering control s.h.i.+fted to Central Station and tried to conn by telephone. He wanted to order a southerly zigzag course toward the transport anchorage, but Yeamans, his talker, found that the phone line was dead. and re-form the column. When the boatswain told his captain he was feeling weak and could not hold on, Greenman ordered steering control s.h.i.+fted to Central Station and tried to conn by telephone. He wanted to order a southerly zigzag course toward the transport anchorage, but Yeamans, his talker, found that the phone line was dead.

The officer in command of Central Station, far belowdecks, Lieutenant Commander James Topper, felt a heavy vibration and a sickening rattle of metal. Blind to it all, connected by wires and tubes and voice lines, he tried to direct the fight to save stations he could not see. As thermostats in the fire alarm systems went out and alarm bells began ringing, electricians moved about, s.h.i.+fting circuits to determine which were working and which were gone. Topper heard a series of grim announcements. The boat deck: an inferno. Wounded men on the bridge. Turret one: hit heavily with few if any survivors. Three more explosions and Radio One was out. Another shattering hit and the number one fire room was gone. An engine room was full of smoke. The after control station commanded by the s.h.i.+p's executive officer, Battle Two, was threatened by fires.

Topper ordered a crew from the forward repair party to go topside and join the fight to save the s.h.i.+p. Then a sh.e.l.l came rattling down the armored escape trunk that reached from the foremast to the hull bottom. It exploded atop Central Station's armored hatch. The watertight seal, flash-fired, flinched. A metal seam opened up, admitting a gust of toxic smoke. Pieces of sparking metal, burning rubber, and debris rained down from above. All hands put handkerchiefs to their faces and stuffed rags into ducts, to little avail. When their request to abandon station was denied, all hands put on gas masks. The chief electrician, Halligan, grabbed a fire extinguisher and played it upon the debris. Then another projectile penetrated the s.h.i.+p's port side and exploded against the barbette to turret two, giving them other things to worry about. As the Astoria Astoria slid to a stop, her bow reaching for the new course, a searchlight appeared on the port beam. Lieutenant Commander Davidson climbed up to trainer's window of turret two and coached the damaged triple mount onto the tormenting light. slid to a stop, her bow reaching for the new course, a searchlight appeared on the port beam. Lieutenant Commander Davidson climbed up to trainer's window of turret two and coached the damaged triple mount onto the tormenting light.

As far as Greenman knew, it was the last turret he had. The large fires amids.h.i.+ps kept him from being able to see whether the after main turret was still firing. But Greenman could follow his sh.e.l.ls as they flew, and could see them hit. One of the Astoria Astoria's salvos missed its target, the Kinugasa, Kinugasa, and struck another cruiser, the and struck another cruiser, the Chokai, Chokai, on her forward turret. The momentary suppression of the j.a.panese flags.h.i.+p's fire did the on her forward turret. The momentary suppression of the j.a.panese flags.h.i.+p's fire did the Astoria Astoria little good. When Greenman asked what speed the s.h.i.+p could make, the answer from what was left of his engineering division was, "None." She was dead in the water. little good. When Greenman asked what speed the s.h.i.+p could make, the answer from what was left of his engineering division was, "None." She was dead in the water.

At about two fifteen, the avalanche of sh.e.l.lfire engulfing the Astoria Astoria relented. The flashes receded and the roar of sh.e.l.ling died. Splashes became intermittent. Then the gunfire ceased. Further shooting at the relented. The flashes receded and the roar of sh.e.l.ling died. Splashes became intermittent. Then the gunfire ceased. Further shooting at the Astoria Astoria would have been gratuitous on the part of the j.a.panese. Fires were eating her, within and above. Her engineers advised Greenman that the choked and burning engineering s.p.a.ces should be abandoned. On board the two other American cruisers, similar discussions were taking place. would have been gratuitous on the part of the j.a.panese. Fires were eating her, within and above. Her engineers advised Greenman that the choked and burning engineering s.p.a.ces should be abandoned. On board the two other American cruisers, similar discussions were taking place.

At two thirty, with his port side opened up to the sea, Riefkohl pa.s.sed the order to abandon s.h.i.+p. Shortly before 3 a.m., the Vincennes Vincennes turned turtle. The captain was nearly felled by the mast of his capsizing s.h.i.+p smacking the water. In an unceremonial plunge, the turned turtle. The captain was nearly felled by the mast of his capsizing s.h.i.+p smacking the water. In an unceremonial plunge, the Vincennes Vincennes went down by the head. went down by the head.

For the Quincy, Quincy, like the like the Astoria, Astoria, a sudden violent crash of enemy steel into the hangar deck had been the inciting catastrophe. She carried five airplanes aboard: one SOC Seagull mounted on each catapult, another floatplane secured on the well deck, and two more parked in the hangar. All of them should have been somewhere else, if not airborne on patrol then at the bottom of Savo Sound, flung away as a safeguard against fire. It was unfortunate that the rolling steel curtain that enclosed the a sudden violent crash of enemy steel into the hangar deck had been the inciting catastrophe. She carried five airplanes aboard: one SOC Seagull mounted on each catapult, another floatplane secured on the well deck, and two more parked in the hangar. All of them should have been somewhere else, if not airborne on patrol then at the bottom of Savo Sound, flung away as a safeguard against fire. It was unfortunate that the rolling steel curtain that enclosed the Quincy Quincy's aircraft hangar had been removed the previous day, damaged by the shocks of her sh.o.r.e bombardment. The price of this accident was paid as soon as the Aoba Aoba's first sh.e.l.ls. .h.i.t: a contagious wash of fire over the well deck, and four of the five Seagulls brightly aflame. They could not be jettisoned while burning. By the time the fire hoses were rigged, there was no pressure left on the line.

The fires, unchecked, were a gift to the j.a.panese. Their spotters and fire controlmen could switch off their searchlights, hide in the dark, and train on the illumination offered by the Quincy Quincy herself, as they did with the other U.S. cruisers as well. The flame and the smoke flowing over the amids.h.i.+ps gun deck blinded the surviving gunners in turn. In the struggle to continue, they could not see their targets, and it was impossible for most of them to know that their foundering s.h.i.+p had taken a decapitating blow. herself, as they did with the other U.S. cruisers as well. The flame and the smoke flowing over the amids.h.i.+ps gun deck blinded the surviving gunners in turn. In the struggle to continue, they could not see their targets, and it was impossible for most of them to know that their foundering s.h.i.+p had taken a decapitating blow.

When the hit came to the Quincy Quincy's bridge-probably from the Aoba Aoba-most of the men on watch were killed at their stations. The Quincy Quincy's exec, Lieutenant Commander John D. Andrew, moved forward as soon as the fires aft allowed. He wanted to find his captain. He needed new orders to help direct the s.h.i.+p's gunnery and helm. He was stunned by what he discovered. "I found it in a shambles of dead bodies with only three or four people still standing. In the pilothouse itself, the only person standing was the signalman at the wheel, who was vainly endeavoring to check the s.h.i.+p's swing to starboard and to bring her to port. On questioning him I found out that the Captain, who was at that time lying near the wheel, had instructed him to beach the s.h.i.+p and he was trying to head the s.h.i.+p for Savo Island distant some four miles on the port quarter."

Andrew tried to get a fix on the island as the helmsman sought to avoid a collision astern. "At this instant," Andrew wrote, "the Captain straightened up and fell back, apparently dead, without having uttered any sound other than a moan." Shortly before he fell, Captain Moore had ordered control of the s.h.i.+p transferred to Battle Two, the battle station of his executive officer, high in the tripod mainmast aft. When Andrew heard that Battle Two had been hit and destroyed, he knew it was time to abandon s.h.i.+p.

All life in two of the cruiser's fire rooms had been extinguished by a single torpedo. By two twenty, the fireboxes in a third fire room were swamped. One of Quincy Quincy's engine rooms never got the abandon-s.h.i.+p order. The final act of the chief engineer was to order a sailor forward to inform Captain Moore that the power plant was nearly inoperable. By then, the captain was already dead, and minutes after the messenger left, two torpedoes from the Tenryu Tenryu struck the compartment, leaving that sailor as its sole survivor. As the struck the compartment, leaving that sailor as its sole survivor. As the Quincy Quincy's port rail touched the sea, the five-inch-gun deck was engulfed. floodwater partly quenched the fires that blazed belowdecks. But the mercy of this happenstance was useless. At about 2:35 a.m., the Quincy Quincy rolled on her port beam ends and sank by the bow. rolled on her port beam ends and sank by the bow.

BEREFT OF THE COMPANY of her sisters, the of her sisters, the Astoria Astoria faced a terrible struggle after the j.a.panese melted into the night and the encounter off Savo Island was left to reverberate in the memories of a thousand lives lost. Like the faced a terrible struggle after the j.a.panese melted into the night and the encounter off Savo Island was left to reverberate in the memories of a thousand lives lost. Like the Vincennes Vincennes and and Quincy, Quincy, she had been gutted before her officers knew what was happening. Though some foresighted aviation machinists had drained the gas lines of her Seagulls the night before, there was no shortage of things to explode. When the valve heads on some gas cylinders stored in the aircraft hangar became superheated, they blew spectacularly, and "gas jetted high in the air, igniting as it went up 'like Roman candles,'" one sailor recalled. As an she had been gutted before her officers knew what was happening. Though some foresighted aviation machinists had drained the gas lines of her Seagulls the night before, there was no shortage of things to explode. When the valve heads on some gas cylinders stored in the aircraft hangar became superheated, they blew spectacularly, and "gas jetted high in the air, igniting as it went up 'like Roman candles,'" one sailor recalled. As an Astoria Astoria marine recalled, "Our s.h.i.+p was blazing like a straw stack on a summer night." marine recalled, "Our s.h.i.+p was blazing like a straw stack on a summer night."

In the northern cruiser force on its night of doom, a hundred small dramas played out. As the Astoria Astoria's executive officer, Frank Shoup, ordered Battle Two abandoned, he saw that the fire on the boat deck had spread to the legs of the mainmast and was greedily climbing, devouring its smooth gray veneer. Battle Two was the last refuge now of several dozen trapped sailors. On all sides, the ladders down to the main deck were blocked by the rising flames. "All communications were shot away," Jack Gibson wrote. "Our eyes were burning with smoke, and we were choking in the fumes of flaming diesel oil."

Leaving the director and going out to the machine-gun platform, Gibson found seven dead men "all heaped together behind the torn splinter s.h.i.+eld in a jumble of arms, legs and broken bodies." They included Ensign McLaughlin, the machine-gun control officer, killed with his crew before they ever got off a shot. Puzzlement, anger, and frustration, not fear, were the predominant emotions of the moment. Gibson saw a fire controlman named Dean pull a large hunk of steel out of his thigh and throw it disgustedly to the deck.

Gibson recalled, "We salvaged the first aid kit from the control room and gave the wounded shots of morphine. Then I called down to the fantail for a fire hose." With help from sailors who had climbed onto the roof of turret three, a hose was attached to a light line and tossed up to the platform. It didn't carry much water. It sputtered and went dead.

"Without a word," Gibson wrote, "Seaman Barker went down the hot ladder to the flaming launches and hacked off a heavy coil of rope. Machine-gun ammunition exploded around him, but he got back up with only minor burns." The improvised zip line had been singed badly enough to call its utility into question. Unsure of its strength, they puzzled how best to test it and finally settled on a coldly pragmatic method underwritten by a difficult moral calculus: They decided to try it on the worst of the wounded. An unconscious sailor was attached to the line and sent on his way, sliding down toward the roof of turret three. "He could not have been more than ten feet down," Wade Johns recalled, "when the line went slack in our hands and we heard the crunching sound of his body after he fell that last forty feet.

"We checked every foot of the remaining line. We knotted it around the burned segments, checked again, and then began the successful lowering of the wounded, one by one."

The Astoria Astoria was divided in two by a valley of fire amids.h.i.+ps. About 150 men were trapped on the fantail. They could get no word of their s.h.i.+pmates in the forward stations. With the fires amids.h.i.+ps walling them off, they doubted there could be any survivors. "We sat there while the fire roared amids.h.i.+ps and our ammunition was blowing up," Gibson wrote. "We were sure all hands forward were dead, while they never dreamed that anyone could have survived the fire aft." Wounded men were being saved in unlikely ways, in some cases delivered topside through large gashes opened up by the impact of enemy sh.e.l.ls. was divided in two by a valley of fire amids.h.i.+ps. About 150 men were trapped on the fantail. They could get no word of their s.h.i.+pmates in the forward stations. With the fires amids.h.i.+ps walling them off, they doubted there could be any survivors. "We sat there while the fire roared amids.h.i.+ps and our ammunition was blowing up," Gibson wrote. "We were sure all hands forward were dead, while they never dreamed that anyone could have survived the fire aft." Wounded men were being saved in unlikely ways, in some cases delivered topside through large gashes opened up by the impact of enemy sh.e.l.ls.

The Astoria Astoria's bridge had an enormous section shot away, and her scorched hangar area was blackened. Her most threatening wounds were eight large sh.e.l.l holes located just above the torpedo belt on her starboard side. She was holed but seaworthy, and though many of her rivets were weepy, the larger penetrations were well plugged from within. As long as the port list could be controlled, the volume of water s.h.i.+pping in would not be fatal.

Chaplain Bouterse, seated on the fantail, was dangling his legs over the side and resting them on the welded letters spelling the name of his s.h.i.+p. There came a drizzle of rain and he welcomed its coolness. The water below his feet was obsidian and foreboding, lit only by the flicker of flames and the little splashes of light that came whenever debris, cast by explosions into the sea, disturbed the plankton and stirred them to a momentary green glow. Here and there fuzzy iridescent streaks were swirled up by the baleful wakes of shark fins.

Contemplating a world without a USS Astoria, Astoria, Bouterse found he could not take his eyes from a ghastly sight. "One of our crew had been killed at his battle station at After Control, the tall superstructure just abaft the hangar, which contained some of our fire control equipment. His body had caught on the rail and was hanging there. The fire from below was coming closer and closer to him as I watched transfixed. Bouterse found he could not take his eyes from a ghastly sight. "One of our crew had been killed at his battle station at After Control, the tall superstructure just abaft the hangar, which contained some of our fire control equipment. His body had caught on the rail and was hanging there. The fire from below was coming closer and closer to him as I watched transfixed.

"I know I wasn't the only one of that group of dazed survivors who noticed our s.h.i.+pmate's body slowly shrinking as the flames consumed it. The thought never crossed my mind that I should try to climb up and pull that body down, and no one else moved either...a funeral pyre seemed symbolically appropriate in the last moments of our s.h.i.+p's existence, and, for all we knew, ours. One must only watch in dignified silence and say farewell."

One sailor who was sent below to find some life jackets returned with a box of cigars. Bouterse knew the kid. He had been trying to teach him to read and write. As he offered smokes to men cl.u.s.tered around turret three, the kid swelled a little, as if he knew he had won a small battle. He shouted to the chaplain, "Hey, man, I just made chief the hard way!" The sight of this sailor, c.o.c.ky despite the circ.u.mstances, struck Bouterse in the heart. "I was back in a more familiar world where sailors could do crazy things like that, throwing the butchery of battle right back into the face of the enemy.... The bitter laughter tasted good."

8.

Burning in the Rain IT WAS ABOUT 2:40 IN THE MORNING WHEN ADMIRAL CRUTCHLEY, from the bridge of the Australia, Australia, observed a trio of objects burning on the sea between Savo and Florida islands and wondered what calamity he had missed. The muzzle flashes he had seen earlier had stopped. His commanders had reported no victory, yet no attack on the anchorages had ensued. The pieces of a strange puzzle floated all over the sound. observed a trio of objects burning on the sea between Savo and Florida islands and wondered what calamity he had missed. The muzzle flashes he had seen earlier had stopped. His commanders had reported no victory, yet no attack on the anchorages had ensued. The pieces of a strange puzzle floated all over the sound.

To his interim squadron commander, Captain Bode in the Chicago, Chicago, the British officer sent a terse imperative: the British officer sent a terse imperative: "REPORT SITUATION." "REPORT SITUATION."

Bode was quick with a reply: "CHICAGO SOUTH OF SAVO ISLAND. HIT BY TORPEDO, SLIGHTLY DOWN BY BOW. ENEMY s.h.i.+PS FIRING TO SEAWARD. SOUTH OF SAVO ISLAND. HIT BY TORPEDO, SLIGHTLY DOWN BY BOW. ENEMY s.h.i.+PS FIRING TO SEAWARD. CANBERRA CANBERRA BURNING ON BEARING 250 FIVE MILES FROM SAVO. TWO DESTROYERS STANDING BY BURNING ON BEARING 250 FIVE MILES FROM SAVO. TWO DESTROYERS STANDING BY CANBERRA CANBERRA."

Crutchley pondered this incomplete report and pa.s.sed what he could to Kelly Turner: "SURFACE ACTION NEAR SAVO. SITUATION AS YET UNDETERMINED." "SURFACE ACTION NEAR SAVO. SITUATION AS YET UNDETERMINED."

Among the transports off Tulagi, nerves were tight as tow cables. The Hunter Liggett Hunter Liggett went to general quarters at about 2 a.m. at the first sign of trouble. Her skipper, a Coast Guard captain named Lewis W. Perkins, leaned on the front rail of his bridge and peered into the night, studying the flashes of gunfire. Then he heard the uneven gurgling of an aircraft engine, and suddenly it was like daytime as a flare popped overhead. "Its searing light revealed the transports and destroyers, grotesquely naked. On the horizon, firing began again." Perkins shouted, 'Hold on! If we're going to get it, this is it!' went to general quarters at about 2 a.m. at the first sign of trouble. Her skipper, a Coast Guard captain named Lewis W. Perkins, leaned on the front rail of his bridge and peered into the night, studying the flashes of gunfire. Then he heard the uneven gurgling of an aircraft engine, and suddenly it was like daytime as a flare popped overhead. "Its searing light revealed the transports and destroyers, grotesquely naked. On the horizon, firing began again." Perkins shouted, 'Hold on! If we're going to get it, this is it!'

"We stood breathless, gripping the rail. The sh.e.l.ls, if they were coming, were on the way. The white light glared down on us. Our s.h.i.+ps just sat there: fat, stupid ducks in the blinding glare."

Mikawa's arrival had been a surprise to all. Joe Custer, who interviewed several of the observers, recalled their confusion and fear. There was no comprehending the horrible truth behind the pyrotechnics that flashed in the night. "Huge b.a.l.l.s of red fire would leave one s.h.i.+p; they could watch them winging in an arc straight for the other s.h.i.+ps, then the spurting of flames as they hit. Then, answering b.a.l.l.s of fire would retrace the arc, and explode in flaming geysers."

"We'd automatically move our heads from left to right, from side to side, at the exchange," the navigator on one of the transports said. "It was like watching a tennis match-in h.e.l.l." That officer made out one large s.h.i.+p in particular, very possibly Mikawa's Chokai, Chokai, throwing salvos so swiftly that they appeared to be chasing one another through the air. In the direction of their arc, flames were towering in the black sky. Some distance still farther away, the bottoms of clouds were warmed by a red glow. The throwing salvos so swiftly that they appeared to be chasing one another through the air. In the direction of their arc, flames were towering in the black sky. Some distance still farther away, the bottoms of clouds were warmed by a red glow. The Canberra Canberra was in her final throes. was in her final throes.

The destroyer Patterson Patterson came alongside the burning Australian cruiser, only to be driven away by the detonations of ordnance. She tried again and stayed, pa.s.sing over pump and fire hoses. The rains were driving then, extinguis.h.i.+ng smoldering debris but doing little against deeper conflagrations. came alongside the burning Australian cruiser, only to be driven away by the detonations of ordnance. She tried again and stayed, pa.s.sing over pump and fire hoses. The rains were driving then, extinguis.h.i.+ng smoldering debris but doing little against deeper conflagrations.

Bad as it looked for the Canberra, Canberra, the plan to abandon her was delayed when it became clear that she would not be left until all the wounded were removed. The destroyers turned to the task, with the the plan to abandon her was delayed when it became clear that she would not be left until all the wounded were removed. The destroyers turned to the task, with the Patterson Patterson taking four hundred survivors on board, including seventy wounded, and the taking four hundred survivors on board, including seventy wounded, and the Wilson Wilson rescuing more than two hundred more. A call came then to aid the rescuing more than two hundred more. A call came then to aid the Astoria. Astoria.

But the tin cans could only accomplish so much. At four fifteen, with the Canberra Canberra suffering from internal explosions, her starboard list growing to almost thirty-five degrees, the suffering from internal explosions, her starboard list growing to almost thirty-five degrees, the Patterson Patterson's deck force threw their hoses off, helped the wounded to settle in, and then pa.s.sed the order for the stricken cruiser to abandon s.h.i.+p.

Kelly Turner had always intended to withdraw most of his amphibious and supply s.h.i.+ps from Guadalca.n.a.l and Tulagi forty-eight hours after the landings. Fletcher's removal of his carriers was pending-they would spend the night and predawn morning in a "night retirement station" southwest of San Cristobal. If the Canberra Canberra could not be righted and made seaworthy in time to join the fleet's exit, planned for 6:30 a.m., she would have to be scuttled. The could not be righted and made seaworthy in time to join the fleet's exit, planned for 6:30 a.m., she would have to be scuttled. The Patterson Patterson relayed Turner's grim order to the relayed Turner's grim order to the Canberra. Canberra.

It was about five fifteen when a strange s.h.i.+p, presumably a hostile one, appeared on the Canberra Canberra's port quarter. Seeing the threat, the Patterson Patterson blinkered the blinkered the Canberra: Canberra: " "OUT ALL LIGHTS." It was not a moment too soon, for the approaching s.h.i.+p immediately took the Patterson Patterson under fire. The destroyer replied in kind. The good news was that none of the sh.e.l.ls the strangers traded hit. The bad news was that the s.h.i.+p firing at them proved to be Howard Bode's under fire. The destroyer replied in kind. The good news was that none of the sh.e.l.ls the strangers traded hit. The bad news was that the s.h.i.+p firing at them proved to be Howard Bode's Chicago, Chicago, returning from her solo foray into the west. The returning from her solo foray into the west. The Patterson Patterson turned on her identification lights and Bode checked his fire. turned on her identification lights and Bode checked his fire.

THE PYRES OF THE Vincennes Vincennes and and Quincy Quincy were not long below the waves, and the were not long below the waves, and the Canberra Canberra's and Astoria Astoria's bouts with fire only beginning, when Rear Admiral Gunichi Mikawa took on his next challenge-deciding how to exploit his stunning rout. At issue was whether he would carry out his princ.i.p.al mission and attack the transport anchorages. Mikawa and his chief of staff, Tos.h.i.+kazu Ohmae, knew that the landing areas off Guadalca.n.a.l and Tulagi were vulnerable. They also understood their own exposure. The Aoba Aoba had already escaped catastrophe during the battle when an American sh.e.l.l struck her port side torpedo mount. Because thirteen of her sixteen fish had been fired already, the explosion did not produce the devastating secondary blast it might have. A sh.e.l.l from the had already escaped catastrophe during the battle when an American sh.e.l.l struck her port side torpedo mount. Because thirteen of her sixteen fish had been fired already, the explosion did not produce the devastating secondary blast it might have. A sh.e.l.l from the Quincy Quincy that destroyed the that destroyed the Chokai Chokai's chart room struck five yards aft of the bridge, just a hairbreadth from killing the admiral and most of his staff. As was always the case in a high-speed action at night, a few minutes' notice either way could have changed the outcome. "I was greatly impressed by the courageous actions of the northern group of U.S. cruisers," Mikawa would comment. "They fought back heroically despite heavy damage sustained before they were ready for battle. Had they had even a few minutes' warning of our approach, the results of the action would have been quite different."

Frayed by the confusion of battle, Mikawa's formation re-formed northwest of Savo Island. The Chokai Chokai took the lead in column ahead of the took the lead in column ahead of the Furutaka, Kako, Kinugasa, Aoba, Tenryu, Yubari, Furutaka, Kako, Kinugasa, Aoba, Tenryu, Yubari, and and Yunagi. Yunagi. The s.h.i.+ps were all low on torpedoes-fully half of them had been launched in the preceding hour-along with as much as a third of their main-battery ammunition. Chief among the admiral's worries was the question of time and daylight. If he pressed on into the American anchorage, he doubted he would escape before daylight. He estimated it would take half an hour to finally rea.s.semble his force, another half hour to close up into battle formation, and still another half hour to regain battle speed. From there, the anchorage was a sixty-minute sprint at high speed. The total time of those processes, two and a half hours, meant that Mikawa's task force would hit the anchorage just an hour before sunrise; it would be impossible to escape under cover of the night. The s.h.i.+ps were all low on torpedoes-fully half of them had been launched in the preceding hour-along with as much as a third of their main-battery ammunition. Chief among the admiral's worries was the question of time and daylight. If he pressed on into the American anchorage, he doubted he would escape before daylight. He estimated it would take half an hour to finally rea.s.semble his force, another half hour to close up into battle formation, and still another half hour to regain battle speed. From there, the anchorage was a sixty-minute sprint at high speed. The total time of those processes, two and a half hours, meant that Mikawa's task force would hit the anchorage just an hour before sunrise; it would be impossible to escape under cover of the night.

The shadow cast by naval aviators was long and dark. The outcome at Midway, like Coral Sea before it, had taught Mikawa that land-based airpower was usually the master of its surrounding seas. "To remain in the area by sunrise would mean that we would only meet the fate our carriers had suffered at Midway." It was six hundred miles from Rabaul to Tulagi, and the 11th Air Fleet was having trouble finding planes to commit to Guadalca.n.a.l in any event. Trouble loomed. From intercepted radio traffic, he knew Fletcher's carriers were out there somewhere. He lacked friendly air cover to save him from American planes in a daylight sprint back to base.

En route to surprising Bode and Riefkohl, it had been keen navigational skill that enabled Mikawa to hug Savo's black coast. Proceeding into the littorals of an anchorage without good charts-incinerated when his flags.h.i.+p's chart room was. .h.i.t-would have been perilous. Besides, what was the hurry? Victory had been easy. Other opportunities would come. The Army had long been saying it would be no great ch.o.r.e to unseat the Americans from their small beachhead.

Eight months earlier Mikawa had been second in command to Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo, commander of the Pearl Harbor strike force. Mikawa had command of Battles.h.i.+p Division 3, the mighty Kiris.h.i.+ma Kiris.h.i.+ma and and Hiei. Hiei. When a decision loomed then about whether to retreat or attack again, Mikawa had urged further attacks against Oahu's oil storage and repair facilities. Now he evaluated similar if smaller risks and chose discretion-and withdrawal. The irony of that decision was considerable: As Mikawa departed to the north, the U.S. aircraft carriers whose wrath he feared were preparing to get under way in the other direction. When a decision loomed then about whether to retreat or attack again, Mikawa had urged further attacks against Oahu's oil storage and repair facilities. Now he evaluated similar if smaller risks and chose discretion-and withdrawal. The irony of that decision was considerable: As Mikawa departed to the north, the U.S. aircraft carriers whose wrath he feared were preparing to get under way in the other direction.

"We were all shocked and disconcerted momentarily," wrote Ohmae. "We were still absorbed with the details of the hard fight just finished and had lost track of time. I was amazed to discover that it was just shortly after midnight, and then we were headed in a northerly direction. As we continued northward, we ran the risk of going ash.o.r.e on Florida Island, so a change of course was made to the left. I asked the lookout if there was any sign of pursuing s.h.i.+ps. There was not."

THE FIGHT TO save the save the Astoria Astoria was at a fever pitch. With hundreds of sailors marshaled as a bucket brigade, heaving water with buckets and spent eight-inch sh.e.l.l casings, many of the fires raging throughout the s.h.i.+p began to yield. Countless small acts of gallantry marked the morning. A lieutenant, Walter Bates, dove overboard to push a life raft containing a portable pump closer to the s.h.i.+p. When he noticed a shark trailing him, he leaped into the raft, grabbed an oar, and splintered it over the predator's skull. Then Bates was in the water again, pus.h.i.+ng the raft into position. The pump coughed to life and water flowed for a brief while. When it died again for good, Bates climbed up on deck and joined scores of others removing wounded. "He was everywhere, working feverishly," Joe Custer reported. "And he came out with only a sprained ankle." A first-cla.s.s petty officer named C. C. Watkins had the kind of commanding presence that rallied the bucket brigade. "Men naturally responded to his confidence, actions, and commanding voice," wrote Lieutenant Commander John D. Hayes, the engineering officer. When Frank Shoup, the exec, first noticed a sailor trapped between a whaleboat davit and a gash in the starboard side of the upper deck, he thought the man was dead. He had only a moment to register the slight wave of the hand the sailor gave before Watkins, joined by two other sailors, Wyatt J. Luttrell and Norman R. Touve, were picking their way through the flames to bring him down. The rescuers found two other sailors while saving this first man, including one who was clinging to the bulge in the cruiser's torpedo belt as the s.h.i.+p was threatening to capsize. "The rescue of these three men," Shoup wrote, "was a heroic action, and was the finest deed I witnessed in a night when high courage was commonplace.... I would not have ordered anyone in to make this rescue, as I did not think it could be done." was at a fever pitch. With hundreds of sailors marshaled as a bucket brigade, heaving water with buckets and spent eight-inch sh.e.l.l casings, many of the fires raging throughout the s.h.i.+p began to yield. Countless small acts of gallantry marked the morning. A lieutenant, Walter Bates, dove overboard to push a life raft containing a portable pump closer to the s.h.i.+p. When he noticed a shark trailing him, he leaped into the raft, grabbed an oar, and splintered it over the predator's skull. Then Bates was in the water again, pus.h.i.+ng the raft into position. The pump coughed to life and water flowed for a brief while. When it died again for good, Bates climbed up on deck and joined scores of others removing wounded. "He was everywhere, working feverishly," Joe Custer reported. "And he came out with only a sprained ankle." A first-cla.s.s petty officer named C. C. Watkins had the kind of commanding presence that rallied the bucket brigade. "Men naturally responded to his confidence, actions, and commanding voice," wrote Lieutenant Commander John D. Hayes, the engineering officer. When Frank Shoup, the exec, first noticed a sailor trapped between a whaleboat davit and a gash in the starboard side of the upper deck, he thought the man was dead. He had only a moment to register the slight wave of the hand the sailor gave before Watkins, joined by two other sailors, Wyatt J. Luttrell and Norman R. Touve, were picking their way through the flames to bring him down. The rescuers found two other sailors while saving this first man, including one who was clinging to the bulge in the cruiser's torpedo belt as the s.h.i.+p was threatening to capsize. "The rescue of these three men," Shoup wrote, "was a heroic action, and was the finest deed I witnessed in a night when high courage was commonplace.... I would not have ordered anyone in to make this rescue, as I did not think it could be done."

When Shoup heard a pump motoring in the forward part of the s.h.i.+p, beyond the no-man's-land of the amids.h.i.+ps fires, it was his first indication that people were alive on the other side of the hangar deck. Within an hour the persistent labor of the bucket brigades had quenched the fires as far forward as the well deck. Only a stubborn lube-oil fire in the starboard forward corner of well deck was evidence of the great conflagration that had been.

Shoup and Hayes were optimists. But a hotter blaze was worming its way deeper in the Astoria Astoria's belly, a severe fire in the wardroom that was unapproachable by hand or by hose. Notified of it, Greenman ordered the forward magazines flooded to prevent an explosion. Enterprising sailors tossed a couple of preventive bucketfuls down the ammunition hoists, then turned open the seac.o.c.ks. As the powder bags were swamped, one danger vanished and another rose in its place. The weight of the water acc.u.mulating below threatened to increase the modest port-side list.

It was around 3:30 a.m. when the rain came, and for about an hour it fell, heavy and cold. Custer remembered some folklore he'd heard that said rain always came after a big naval battle because the concussion of big guns unhinged the equilibrium of the atmosphere.

Topside the rains fell hard. Though they did little against the blaze in the well deck, the superstructure cooled, steamed, and smoked. The blackened foremast turned to solid steel again after buckling under the heat. Hoses lay about, withered down to their coils like discarded snakeskins. The forward turrets, manned now by corpses, were still trained in the direction of the last known target. The s.h.i.+p, coughing flames from her belly, shook occasionally from the m.u.f.fled thump of five-inch projectiles exploding in superheated hoists. In the midst of it all, men were nearly stuporous. "I stood for a moment of silence in memory of the men I had known," Jack Gibson said. "Then voices roused me. They came from a destroyer coming up alongside."

When the Bagley Bagley first appeared ahead at around four o'clock that morning, the s.h.i.+p was blacked out and identification impossible. The first appeared ahead at around four o'clock that morning, the s.h.i.+p was blacked out and identification impossible. The Astoria Astoria's survivors mistook the flashes of her signal lamp for the muzzle of an enemy rifle firing into their s.h.i.+pmates adrift. Captain Greenman ordered a signalman to climb atop turret two and challenge the newcomer with a blinker gun. "Shaking with cold and fright," recalled signalman Vince Furst, "I sent out AA AA and the familiar and the familiar SOS. SOS."

The voice that came in reply was unmistakable, the New England tw.a.n.g of the Bagley Bagley's skipper, Lieutenant Commander George A. Sinclair, well known in the Astoria Astoria from his recent tenure as her engineering officer. His destroyer approached bow-to-bow in a well-executed "Chinese landing" and held fast to the vastly larger cruiser. The wounded were taken from the from his recent tenure as her engineering officer. His destroyer approached bow-to-bow in a well-executed "Chinese landing" and held fast to the vastly larger cruiser. The wounded were taken from the Astoria Astoria's forecastle by triage, stretcher cases first, crews working in the darkness by voice and touch. When Joe Custer's turn came, he began descending to the destroyer's deck, then heard Greenman call from the bridge, "Able-bodied men stay aboard! We are not abandoning s.h.i.+p!" A spontaneous cheer went up.

The effort to save the Astoria Astoria called Kelly Turner's battered screening group to a proud new purpose. The called Kelly Turner's battered screening group to a proud new purpose. The Bagley Bagley took aboard seventy of her wounded. Playing searchlights on the water, looking for more, Sinclair's tin can shoved off and drew alongside aft. She took off more wounded and sent aboard a salvage crew of several hundred men. As the sun rose low over Florida Island, the destroyer-minesweeper took aboard seventy of her wounded. Playing searchlights on the water, looking for more, Sinclair's tin can shoved off and drew alongside aft. She took off more wounded and sent aboard a salvage crew of several hundred men. As the sun rose low over Florida Island, the destroyer-minesweeper Hopkins Hopkins approached and backed up to the approached and backed up to the Astoria, Astoria, fantail-to-fantail. Captain Greenman, blood all over him, arm in a sling, asked for a tow. A cable was tied to the base of the smaller s.h.i.+p's towing winch and fastened tight. A 120-volt electrical lead and a fire hose followed. Shoup and Hayes were glad for the help. If power could be restored, steam might be raised, too. fantail-to-fantail. Captain Greenman, blood all over him, arm in a sling, asked for a tow. A cable was tied to the base of the smaller s.h.i.+p's towing winch and fastened tight. A 120-volt electrical lead and a fire hose followed. Shoup and Hayes were glad for the help. If power could be restored, steam might be raised, too.

Then the Wilson Wilson came alongside, sidling up on the windward beam to starboard, pumping water into the fires forward. The work never proceeded without thought of a renewed enemy attack. The destroyers were repeatedly called away to investigate sonar contacts. came alongside, sidling up on the windward beam to starboard, pumping water into the fires forward. The work never proceeded without thought of a renewed enemy attack. The destroyers were repeatedly called away to investigate sonar contacts.

With the Hopkins Hopkins towing from astern and the towing from astern and the Wilson Wilson's deck force hosing fires in the wardroom, the list steadied. Bucket brigades redoubled their back-straining labors. It was not enough. When fires below reached the sh.e.l.l hoists, seized by sh.e.l.l damage and full of ordnance meant for enemy targets, a series of explosions began weakening the s.h.i.+p from within like small strokes. As several of these breached the hull, the Astoria Astoria's list slowly grew more serious. At ten degrees it was difficult for men to walk on deck.

Further on into the morning, the Astoria Astoria suffered a particularly heavy explosion deep within, probably in the forward five-inch magazine, which precautionary flooding never reached. From a deep and inaccessible void, its detonation was felt more than heard. There was a m.u.f.fled cacophony of collapsing bulkheads. Bubbling to the surface on the port side came an exhalation of yellow gas, detritus of a burned-out powder magazine. Sailors on the other s.h.i.+ps could see tendrils of smoke leaking from nearly every rivet on the s.h.i.+p, thousands of them. When the list grew to fifteen degrees, the sh.e.l.l holes above the waterline started s.h.i.+pping water. The makes.h.i.+ft bandages of mattresses and pillows sh.o.r.ed up with timber could do only so much. When the list reached thirty degrees, all her sailors could do was watch the suffered a particularly heavy explosion deep within, probably in the forward five-inch magazine, which precautionary flooding never reached. From a deep and inaccessible void, its detonation was felt more than heard. There was a m.u.f.fled cacophony of collapsing bulkheads. Bubbling to the surface on the port side came an exhalation of yellow gas, detritus of a burned-out powder magazine. Sailors on the other s.h.i.+ps could see tendrils of smoke leaking from nearly every rivet on the s.h.i.+p, thousands of them. When the list grew to fifteen degrees, the sh.e.l.l holes above the waterline started s.h.i.+pping water. The makes.h.i.+ft bandages of mattresses and pillows sh.o.r.ed up with timber could do only so much. When the list reached thirty degrees, all her sailors could do was watch the Astoria Astoria yield. yield.

Shortly after noon, the port side gunwales were awash. The bucket brigades stood down as all hands were ordered aft. The Buchanan, Buchanan, alongside to fight fires, secured her hoses and began taking off survivors. Sailors without life jackets floated on the sea gripping discarded powder cans. Destroyers stood by to retrieve them. A survivor of the alongside to fight fires, secured her hoses and began taking off survivors. Sailors without life jackets floated on the sea gripping discarded powder cans. Destroyers stood by to retrieve them. A survivor of the Astoria Astoria's forward turrets, Charles C. Gorman, saw a man in the water near the fantail of a destroyer screaming for help. The deckhands threw him a line, but as they did so, the destroyer accelerated, evidently called away to pursue a submarine contact. The man grabbed the line but missed, and the sharks were soon on him. Gorman called it "one of the most horrible sights of all the wars I have been in."

Many more-fortunate souls were already aboard the tin cans, lying p.r.o.ne on their steel decks. The decks of the Bagley Bagley were filled with were filled with Astoria Astoria wounded; limbs, heads, and torsos wrapped in bandages and gauze. On the wounded; limbs, heads, and torsos wrapped in bandages and gauze. On the Bagley, Bagley, those who could manage it stood at the rail, attention fixed on the floundering carca.s.s of their onetime home. The those who could manage it stood at the rail, attention fixed on the floundering carca.s.s of their onetime home. The Astoria Astoria was rolling to her port side, bow deep and stern raising high. On the afterdeck, a sailmaker and a special working party wrapped bodies for burial at sea until the list forced them to disband. was rolling to her port side, bow deep and stern raising high. On the afterdeck, a sailmaker and a special working party wrapped bodies for burial at sea until the list forced them to disband.

"Off her slanting side, men were walking slowly, deliberately, into the calm water," Joe Custer observed from the Bagley. Bagley. "Some of them went into shallow dives, like kids off a raft. Others just walked off the edge and started their arms in motion. Some wore life jackets, others didn't. Officers' khaki mingled with seamen's dungarees. There were hundreds of heads bobbing in the water. And now the great group went into a ma.s.s crawl, like so many porpoises, toward the destroyers and lifeboats hovering nearby." "Some of them went into shallow dives, like kids off a raft. Others just walked off the edge and started their arms in motion. Some wore life jackets, others didn't. Officers' khaki mingled with seamen's dungarees. There were hundreds of heads bobbing in the water. And now the great group went into a ma.s.s crawl, like so many porpoises, toward the destroyers and lifeboats hovering nearby."

"The day was beautiful, the sea like gla.s.s and the s.h.i.+p was slowly overturning and sinking," a sailor on the transport Alchiba Alchiba wrote. "Men were in the water, boats were picking them up. It would have made a gripping picture." It was just past noon on the ninth when the wrote. "Men were in the water, boats were picking them up. It would have made a gripping picture." It was just past noon on the ninth when the Astoria Astoria began settling by the stern. Then she was gone. The inventory of enshrouded dead piled on the afterdeck entered the sea without ceremony. For the third time within twelve hours, the temperate waters of Savo Sound absorbed the heat of an American man-of-war's incandescent ruins. began settling by the stern. Then she was gone. The inventory of enshrouded dead piled on the afterdeck entered the sea without ceremony. For the third time within twelve hours, the temperate waters of Savo Sound absorbed the heat of an American man-of-war's incandescent ruins.

AT HIS HEADQUARTERS in Noumea, Vice Admiral Robert Ghormley was awaiting news of the landings, about which he knew nothing, nor about the explosive events that followed. "These were endless hours and days for us," the commander of SOPAC wrote. Evidently, however, he felt no urgency to end them. He did not ask his commanders for updates. "I did not want to interfere with the operations by demanding reports when I did not know the local conditions as to ability to send dispatches," he would write. Ghormley was wise to a.s.sume the worst of his patchwork radio setup. But it would strike some as curious that he, a theater commander, equated inquiry with interference and used his unfamiliarity with the forward area to justify his continuing detachment from it. in Noumea, Vice Admiral Robert Ghormley was awaiting news of the landings, about which he knew nothing, nor about the explosive events that followed. "These were endless hours and days for us," the commander of SOPAC wrote. Evidently, however, he felt no urgency to end them. He did not ask his commanders for updates. "I did not want to interfere with the operations by demanding reports when I did not know the local conditions as to ability to send dispatches," he would write. Ghormley was wise to a.s.sume the worst of his patchwork radio setup. But it would strike some as curious that he, a theater commander, equated inquiry with interference and used his unfamiliarity with the forward area to justify his continuing detachment from it.

When news of the disastrous fate of the cruisers filtered down to the landing area that morning, unloading accelerated to a frantic pace. Turner's plan was to withdraw his troop transports and cargo s.h.i.+ps on August 9, getting them under way at first light. That decision looked more urgently necessary than ever. Already they were unguarded by carrier planes. Now their cruiser screening force had been wiped away, too.

Supplies were needed ash.o.r.e, and s.h.i.+pboard deck s.p.a.ce was in demand for the wounded. As stores and arms flowed to the beach, the vacated stowage was used to accommodate casualties of battle. A transport officer recalled, "Most of them were young kids sitting numbly, their semi-naked bodies black from burns and the oil of sunken s.h.i.+ps. I doubt I will ever forget that sweet smell of burned flesh."

Before sunrise on Sunday morning, August 9, the remnants of Task Force 62 gathered for their march of shame. The antiaircraft cruiser San Juan, San Juan, Rear Admiral Norman Scott's flags.h.i.+p, used her new surface radar to form up in the dark. If the new equipment was useful in retreat, there was no telling how it might have performed in battle. As the battle raged the Rear Admiral Norman Scott's flags.h.i.+p, used her new surface radar to form up in the dark. If the new equipment was useful in retreat, there was no telling how it might have performed in battle. As the battle raged the San Juan San Juan stood idle, several miles to the southeast, patrolling outside the Tulagi transport anchorage. "If the stood idle, several miles to the southeast, patrolling outside the Tulagi transport anchorage. "If the San Juan San Juan had been up there," said Lieutenant Commander Horacio Rivero, her a.s.sistant gunnery officer, "we would have picked up [Mikawa's] s.h.i.+ps coming down.... We had the only radar that could do that. And we weren't in the area where it could be used. They didn't realize what it could do." Turner was indeed unaware that the equipment in the destroyers on picket duty, the had been up there," said Lieutenant Commander Horacio Rivero, her a.s.sistant gunnery officer, "we would have picked up [Mikawa's] s.h.i.+ps coming down.... We had the only radar that could do that. And we weren't in the area where it could be used. They didn't realize what it could do." Turner was indeed unaware that the equipment in the destroyers on picket duty, the Blue Blue and and Ralph Talbot, Ralph Talbot, was inadequate to cover the breadth of their patrol line. Though Admiral Ghormley had questioned the idea of using just two destroyers as pickets, he was a.s.sured that they would detect the approach of any enemy s.h.i.+ps within twelve to fourteen miles with their SC search radar. Its range was just five thousand yards, or about half of what Crutchley believed it was, and half of the "conservative estimate" given to Admiral King by the commander of the Pacific Fleet's destroyer force, Rear Admiral Walden L. "Pug" Ainsworth. was inadequate to cover the breadth of their patrol line. Though Admiral Ghormley had questioned the idea of using just two destroyers as pickets, he was a.s.sured that they would detect the approach of any enemy s.h.i.+ps within twelve to fourteen miles with their SC search radar. Its range was just five thousand yards, or about half of what Crutchley believed it was, and half of the "conservative estimate" given to Admiral King by the commander of the Pacific Fleet's destroyer force, Rear Admiral Walden L. "Pug" Ainsworth.

As the sun rose, Task Force 62 steamed eastward through Lengo Channel, older, smaller, and, soon enough, wiser for the disaster of the preceding six hours. The broken-bowed Chicago Chicago led the led the Patterson, Mugford, Ralph Talbot, Dewey, Patterson, Mugford, Ralph Talbot, Dewey, and five destroyer-minesweepers along with several transports. In the second group went the rest of the transports, with the and five destroyer-minesweepers along with several transports. In the second group went the rest of the transports, with the Australia, San Juan, Australia, San Juan, and and Hobart Hobart escorted by the destroyers escorted by the destroyers Selfridge, Henley, Helm, Bagley, Blue, Ellet, Wilson, Hull, Monssen, Selfridge, Henley, Helm, Bagley, Blue, Ellet, Wilson, Hull, Monssen, and and Buchanan Buchanan. Shortly after the first dog watch (i.e. 16001800), the amphibious force, unloaded to the degree possible, got under way for Noumea, too.

Officers on all s.h.i.+ps struggled to comprehend what had transpired the previous night. The skipper of the Monssen, Monssen, Commander Roland N. Smoot, saw the missed opportunity as a disgrace. "I couldn't help but keep saying to my gang around the bridge, 'Why in the devil don't we get into this? What are we doing down here waiting to be picked off one at a time? What's the matter with us?'" Smoot's comments had hindsight's clarity. As the battle raged, the only American flag officer within range of the sc.r.a.p, Norman Scott, believed he was watching the two American cruiser groups firing on each other. Scott's thinking appears to have mirrored that of the five heavy cruiser commanders, four of whom, all but Captain Bode in the Commander Roland N. Smoot, saw the missed opportunity as a disgrace. "I couldn't help but keep saying to my gang around the bridge, 'Why in the devil don't we get into this? What are we doing down here waiting to be picked off one at a time? What's the matter with us?'" Smoot's comments had hindsight's clarity. As the battle raged, the only American flag officer within range of the sc.r.a.p, Norman Scott, believed he was watching the two American cruiser groups firing on each other. Scott's thinking appears to have mirrored that of the five heavy cruiser commanders, four of whom, all but Captain Bode in the Chicago, Chicago, were asleep in their sea cabins when the bugles rang. Despite the revolutionary radar eyes available to him, Scott was, according to Rear Admiral Thomas Kinkaid, "without information except for what he had seen indistinctly." As Mikawa's cruisers were rounding the bottom curve of their counterclockwise circuit of Savo Island, Scott's group had just reversed its patrol course to the south and was only fifteen thousand yards south of Mikawa's fast-firing were asleep in their sea cabins when the bugles rang. Despite the revolutionary radar eyes available to him, Scott was, according to Rear Admiral Thomas Kinkaid, "without information except for what he had seen indistinctly." As Mikawa's cruisers were rounding the bottom curve of their counterclockwise circuit of Savo Island, Scott's group had just reversed its patrol course to the south and was only fifteen thousand yards south of Mikawa's fast-firing Chokai. Chokai. Opportunity arrived at twenty-four knots and soon was gone again. Opportunity arrived at twenty-four knots and soon was gone again.

Combat readiness simply wasn't the order of the day. Captain Riefkohl would acknowledge that he had received reports of an app