The Sinking of the Ariake and Mikazuki

The following is a first hand description of the attack and destruction of the IJN destroyers Ariake and Mikazuki, by then Major John P. ‘Jock’ Henebry, Commanding Officer, 89th Attack Squadron / 3rd Attack Group.

“The Commander of the Third Attack Group, Colonel D.P. Hall, put together a special mission to hunt for enemy barge traffic and bases along the western coast of the island of New Britain on 28 July 1943.

We were looking for “targets of opportunity” related to enemy costal barge traffic along New Britain. Five flights of B-25D-1s, three Strafers each, and the three-plane formations would fly in trail at a couple hundred feet altitude, a good coast-searching altitude, with the lead formation descending to work over whatever caught the lead pilots eye. The following flight was then to leapfrog the flight in action and continue as lead along the coast to find the next “target of opportunity.

I was leading Captains Howe and MacLellan in the third flight. D. P. has spotted some activity and had taken his formation down to work it over. Howe, MacLellan and I were now second in line, proceeding westward. The new lead flight picked out a target and swooped down on it.

Now my third flight had leapfrogged into the lead. We proceeded westward and followed the coast as it turned north around Mount Tangi. As we neared the Cape Gloucester airstrip I saw up high—at least at 10,000 feet—a number of single engine fighters circling, Japanese.

The sight was disquieting, primarily because we were flying without fighter cover that day. We often flew missions without cover, as P-38s were scarce. Not many had been assigned to the theater at this point in the Pacific war. The inventory was increasing but none were with us flying to New Britain.

The enemy fighter planes were hovering in a lufbery circle, a defensive tactic originally created by French and American airmen in World War I, where fighters circle at the same time altitude protecting each other to preclude an attacking enemy fighter penetrating the pattern. An intruder does so at the risk of exposing his rear to fire.

A lufbery circle usually indicates a target worth protecting. And sure enough, there in front of us about three miles off the coast were two large destroyers, commonly used by the enemy to run supplies and personnel. Scouting missions didn’t often catch enemy destroyers in open water at sea. Here below us were not one, but two.

As the current lead, I started my descent from about 200 feet above the coastline to make a run on the nearest of the two destroyers. As an appetizer, flying right into my line of attack, was a twin engine Japanese transport plane making a left turn for an approach to the Cape Gloucester airstrip, intent on resupplying or evacuating the base.

I turned slightly to make a pass at it, getting in close enough to aim two good bursts into his right engine. It started burning and, according to my top gunner, the plane crashed in flames on the airstrip.

Meanwhile, the Japanese fighters kept their altitude. They stayed in good surveillance position at 10,000 feet, able to dive out of danger should U. S. fighter cover attack, which they assumed would be the scenario. To fly at an altitude underneath the expected enemy fighters would put their planes in jeopardy.

Unobstructed then, I continued my descent to wave-top altitude, lining up for my strafing bomb run.

Howe and MacLellan, flying left and right wing positions, pulled in nice and tight. The air was clear and bright with little wind—perfect air for tight, minimum altitude flying. I was flanked by the best. With practiced ease, Howe and MacLellan could hold their wing positions, fire forward and drop a bomb load with fingers to spare. Compared to their complicated jobs, my responsibility to lead the formation was easy. I needed only to take my flight to the right place at the right time.

This place and time started heating up. Both destroyers started firing at us. Their heavy guns were making a few water spouts but nothing at first was coming really close. Howe, MacLellan and I were making a 90 degree broadside pass, setting ‘ up the approach for our bombs. However, we were also setting ourselves up as ideal targets for their gunners.

So we proceeded toward the destroyer, flying as low as we could fly, so low we were probably leaving a wake in the water. The destroyers’ lighter guns began to fire. It could have been a blinking Christmas tree before us, the fire was so rapid and extensive.

As a defensive move, I pulled my nose up slightly to stretch the mile range of my eight forward firing machine guns, lobbying my fire on their decks.

Our fire wouldn’t sink a man-o’-war but I knew sure as hell we could cause a lot of confusion with all the stuff the three of us with our 24 fifty-calibers were throwing at them. I doubt that a fifty-caliber even could pierce the armor surrounding the guns on deck. But all that splattering surely made those seamen duck. And may have wiped out a few.

An effective move. They stopped firing. The blinking lights darkened. The maneuver had worked previously for Larner against the cruiser in the Bismarck Sea and it worked for us. None of our three planes was hit.

I dropped two delayed fuse 500-pound bombs into the side of one of the ships. The gunner reported two solid hits as we pulled up to clear the mast and descended back down to sea level as a defensive move.

By now all five flights were involved in the attack, the original two having caught up with us. I made a 180 degree turn for another run on the ship from the other side. It was a much quieter target. I hit him again with a 500-pounder.

Half of that ship still sticks up out of the waters off Cape Gloucester. When the captain realized his ship was sinking, he ran it aground on a reef to keep it from going under. And there it stays.

The Japanese fighters remained at 10,000 feet prepared to take on our non-existent cover fighters. Throughout all our days of battle with Japanese pilots, they continued to be hesitant to sacrifice their altitude to come down to engage us until they were sure no fighter cover was protecting our runs. In this battle, by the time they realized we were flying uncovered and made a conscientious effort to pursue us, the damage had been complete—a transport aircraft downed and two destroyers sunk. We headed home before they entered the air we had claimed.”