The Japanese military had a secret they would do almost anything to protect—and the biggest threat to that secret were the men who had lived through the Battle of Midway. Years before the war, Captain N. C. Brooks had claimed the Midway Islands for the United States.
For a long time, America had little use for the tiny atoll, a stretch of land covering just over six square kilometers. But when air travel became common, Midway—so named because it sat roughly halfway between North America and Asia—turned into an asset worth defending. In 1940, the U. S.
Navy began building submarine and air bases there, along with radio facilities and a power plant. All that activity was hard to keep hidden. The Japanese noticed. Just twelve hours after their surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, Japan struck the hangar and power plant on Midway.
By 1942, Japan had set its sights on expanding across the Pacific—British Hong Kong, the Philippines, Singapore, British Malaysia, and the Dutch East Indies. Then, in April, American forces bombed targets in Tokyo and other Japanese cities. The Japanese leadership understood that the U. S.
was a dangerous enemy, and their presence in the Pacific threatened Japan’s defenses. The Japanese considered hitting Pearl Harbor again. A second offensive, they hoped, might force the Americans to pull back. Instead, they chose a different target: the Midway Atoll.
Admiral Yamamoto knew the tiny islands weren’t especially important to Japan, but they were vital for the Americans to refuel their submarines. He wanted to move fast. After the Battle of the Coral Sea, he had destroyed the USS Yorktown—or so he believed. That left the Americans with only two carriers, the Enterprise and the Hornet.
Yamamoto thought the U. S. was vulnerable. What he didn’t know was that the Yorktown, though badly damaged, had been repaired around the clock and made seaworthy in just 72 hours.
What he also failed to understand was American morale. Because of their losses in the region, Yamamoto assumed American spirits were low. He was wrong. The American fighters weren’t broken—they were ready.
Yamamoto’s plan was to lure American carriers into Midway with a small showing of force led by Chuichi Nagumo, while keeping a much larger fighting force hidden hundreds of miles behind. What he didn’t count on were American code breakers. They kept hearing the Japanese refer to a location as “AF. ” They suspected it meant Midway but weren’t certain.
So they sent an uncoded message saying Midway’s water purification system had failed. Soon after, the Japanese relayed the same message, replacing the word “Midway” with “AF. ” The Americans now knew exactly what “AF” meant. Admiral Chester Nimitz prepared his defenses and sent three carriers—the Enterprise, the Hornet, and the repaired Yorktown—to a position northeast of Midway.
The Japanese had no idea the Yorktown was still in one piece. By June 4th, the U. S. Navy had assembled a formidable force: four squadrons of seaplanes, six Grumman TBF Avengers, 64 Marine Corps planes, and another 122 from the U.
S. Army Air Forces. The Americans were far better prepared than the Japanese ever imagined. At 4:30 in the morning, Nagumo launched his attack.
Major Floyd B. Parks led the American interception but suffered heavy losses—only two U. S. planes survived the engagement.
Yet the American anti-aircraft fire was punishing. They destroyed three Japanese aircraft and heavily damaged others. Then the Americans caught a break. Nagumo faced a choice: finish rearming or attack immediately.
He decided to wait. Many believe that was his fatal mistake. Suddenly, the Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown were all in the fight. The plan was simple: two squadrons would make direct hits on three Japanese carriers.
But miscommunication threw everything off. Both American squadrons attacked the same carrier, the Kaga. It took a double strike that killed its captain and most of his senior officers. The Kaga was finished, but the other carriers remained untouched.
Lieutenant Richard Halsey Best spotted the error while he and his wingmen still had time to pull out of their dives. They changed direction mid-attack and went for another Japanese ship, the Akagi. They made only one direct hit, but it was lethal. The explosion ignited armed and fueled aircraft on the upper hangar deck.
A massive fire swept through the ship. One man on board described bodies everywhere. The Akagi was destroyed. Still, one Japanese carrier remained.
Lieutenant Max Leslie took off from the Yorktown in his VB3 with orders to take down the Soryu. His three hits ignited fuel and triggered huge explosions that turned the ship into an inferno. Now all three Japanese carriers were ablaze. Nagumo was forced to abandon the Akagi in shame.
Japan’s only surviving carrier was the Hiryu, and it still had fight left in it. The Hiryu struck the Yorktown, severely damaging her. The Japanese thought they had finally crippled her. But the Americans once again repaired the ship quickly—so effectively that when the Japanese encountered the Yorktown again, they believed they were facing a different carrier.
They hit her again, and this time the damage was severe. The Japanese celebrated what they thought was the destruction of two American carriers. It gave them a false sense that victory was near. Later that day, a scout plane from the Yorktown made a critical discovery: the location of Japan’s final carrier, the Hiryu.
The Enterprise launched an attack. By the end of the day, the Hiryu was in flames. Eventually, it sank. But the Battle of Midway was far from over.
As the sun set on that bloody day, the area plunged into darkness. Both sides regrouped. Just after 2:00 a. m.
on June 5th, Commander John Murphy aboard the submarine USS Tambor, positioned west of Midway, spotted several ships approaching. He had no way of knowing whether they were friendly or enemy vessels. His vague report infuriated Commander Robert English, who demanded to know whether the ships were Japanese. As it turned out, they were Yamamoto’s ships, on their way to attack Midway.
But then something strange happened: two Japanese cruisers, the Mogami and the Mikuma, accidentally collided with each other. They were now sitting ducks. Murphy finally realized the approaching ships were Japanese. He took his submarine down to hide and prepare an offensive strike.
But his ambush failed. He slipped away without landing a single hit on the slow, vulnerable cruisers. When Murphy returned to port, he had to answer for two sins: a vague report that cost precious time, and a weak attack on an easy target. His punishment was a demotion.
The Americans launched strikes from both Midway and their carriers to fix the damage. They sank the Mikuma, severely damaged the Mogami, and hit two other destroyers hard. Captain Richard E. Fleming was killed in the offensive and received a posthumous Medal of Honor.
But there was little time to mourn. The USS Varayo was towing the badly damaged Yorktown. The USS Hammann wasn’t so lucky. It was struck by a Japanese torpedo, broke into pieces, and began to sink.
To make matters worse, the Hammann’s own depth charges ignited. Eighty men lost their lives. The Yorktown had always managed to recover before, but this time it was impossible. The remaining crew abandoned ship.
At around 7:00 a. m. , she turned over and sank into the deep. The following days brought more American forces, striking from both sea and Midway.
Under this lethal pressure, Japan was forced to retreat. It looked like the Americans had won. The reality was grim. On the American side, 307 servicemen lost their lives, including Major General Clarence L.
Tinker, commander of the 7th Air Force. The Yorktown and the Hammann were gone. For the Japanese, the toll was far worse. The Battle of Midway cost them 3,057 lives.
Two Japanese captains went down with their ships. They lost four carriers and countless aircraft. Even though the Americans had clearly won, the Japanese public heard a different story. Tokyo announced a great victory.
The truth of the devastating loss was hidden—known only to Emperor Hirohito and his highest officials. But keeping that secret would be difficult. When the wounded from Midway arrived at hospitals in Japan, they were kept apart from the other patients. The survivors couldn’t be allowed to speak.
So the Japanese sent them back to the front lines of other battles across the Pacific, where most of them were killed. The truth of Midway was out there—but much of it now rested at the bottom of an ocean so deep that locating the wreckage proved nearly impossible. In 1998, oceanographer Robert Ballard enlisted the help of both American and Japanese veterans to find the sunken Yorktown. Remarkably, photographs showed the ship mostly intact.
But they never found any remains of the Japanese carriers. Many historians consider Midway the turning point of the Pacific War—the first major naval defeat Japan suffered at the hands of the Allies. Had Japan won, they might have occupied Fiji and Samoa, and even launched offensives against Australia and Alaska.
The world might look very different today.
