Get Yamamoto

+ Guadalcanal was around 430 miles from Buin

With this information at their fingertips, US High Command, under order of Admiral Nimitz, and backed by both US Naval Secretary Frank Knox and President Roosevelt, could begin planning a strike mission to eliminate Yamamoto. After several unlikely schemes were mooted, it was decided that the men of 339th Fighter Squadron and the 70th FS, based at Fighter Two Strip, Guadalcanal, would undertake what was to be one of the most audacious strike missions of World War Two.

Ready for the Kill

Leading the sortie was Major John Mitchell, whose P-38’s cockpit had a naval compass installed in order to aid navigation. He was faced with a tough task even by today’s standards. The 2hr 25min journey would have to be made with total radio silence and at low level (between 50 and 100ft). They would have to avoid passing over any of the islands on the way to Kahili and arrive primed and ready to attack at the exact time the target began its approach.

The attack flight was composed of 18 specially-adapted Lightnings. Each aircraft was fitted with extra 165-gallon and 310-gallon fuel tanks. Two pairs of P-38s would form the ‘Killer Section’ tasked with destroying Yamamoto’s aircraft. The first pair comprised Capt Tom Lanphier, with Lt Rex Barber as his wingman. Barber had already created quite a name for himself by sinking a Japanese destroyer, which he proudly had painted up alongside the other kills on the nose of his aircraft. Lt Jim McLanahan and Lt Joe Moore made up the other pair. The rest of the Lightnings in the flight would be responsible for providing overhead cover in expectation of any Japanese response.

On the evening before the mission, Mitchell gathered his men together and told them that they were about to take part in a sortie that could, if they were lucky, change the course of the war. With the knowledge that they were about to take part in something big, the men had little rest before re-assembling for pre-mission briefing at 06:00.

Mitchell now unveiled the details, reiterating how important the mission was and making it crystal clear that attacking Yamamoto’s aircraft was priority number one – even if their own lives were at risk. Not one to pull any punches, Mitchell added that ‘the chances of complete success are perhaps one in a thousand’. The mission, with Pearl Harbour still at the forefront of American minds, was codenamed ‘Operation Vengeance’.

At 07:25, April 18, the P-38s took off. However, McLanahan blew a tire in taxiing and had to abort. Soon after, Moore developed problems with his external fuel tanks; he too returned to base. Mitchell replaced the two pilots from the ‘Killer Section’ with Lt Besby Holmes and Lt Ray Hine. Holmes had combat experience: Hine did not.

The tense low-level journey was nerve-jangling and dull at the same time, Barber admitted many years later. ‘For us, the flight was almost boring,’ he said. Capt Doug Canning, a pilot in the covering group, whiled away the time by counting the number of sharks he could spot and even managed to note a pod of whales (click here to read Canning’s impressions of the mission). Mitchell and his men arrived at the target area at 09:34, almost exactly 2hrs and 25mins from takeoff and just one minute before the enemy's estimated time of arrival – a testament to the Mitchell's navigational skills. Craning their necks looking for the enemy, nothing could be seen until Capt Canning broke radio silence, shouting ‘Bogies 11 o’clock high!’

Sure enough, the Japanese aircraft were there, starting to make their downward approach past Kahili aerodrome and on to Buin. However, there was a significant problem: instead of one transport aircraft, there were two. Both Bettys were flying at 4,500ft, while six Zeros, in two three-fighter sections, flew in protective formation a further 1,500ft above them.

The 12 P-38s responsible for giving overhead cover began their ascent into position. Although the Japanese were outnumbered, the Americans knew they would offer fierce resistance. Meanwhile, the ‘Killer Section’ prepared to make their attack and dropped their external fuel tanks. Here technical problems interfered again; something was stopping Holmes from ditching his tanks. Signalling Lanphier, he left the formation, shaking his P-38 in an effort to jettison his now-unwanted cargo. Hine, his wingman, went down to give cover.

Barber and Lanphier were now left to pull off a mission that was now looking impossible as it was suicidal.

The official version

It was important for the two men to build up their speed before making their interception. They would not be able to hang around for long, as Zeros were deadly opponents in a turning fight.

Fortunately, for the Lightnings, their drab olive camouflage made them difficult to spot. Indeed, the pilot of the second Betty later recalled: ‘The first I knew of the attack was when I saw tracer bullets going into the admiral’s aircraft and I looked up and saw the P-38 directly above me: it was shooting into the admiral’s aircraft.’

But if the Betty crews had failed to see the P-38s approaching, the Zero pilots certainly had. The Japanese fighters dropped their fuel tanks and nosed over to make steep descent in order to reach the enemy before they could inflict serious damage.

In the meantime, the Lightnings were roaring upwards at 280mph on a 90-degree angle. Both Lanphier and Barber noted the threat descending on them: once the P-38s reached the bombers, which were travelling from left to right, they would become perfect targets for the three right-hand Zeros. Rather than attack the Bettys, Lanphier decided to make a charging pass at the Zeros. By grappling with the enemy fights, Lanphier gave Barber time to tackle the bombers. But according to the captain’s post-combat report, Barber went on to attack the second Betty – the one that turned out not to be carrying Yamamoto.

Approaching 6,000ft, Lanphier claimed he was also able to destroy one of the Zeros – or so he believed (click here for ‘Zero Kills’). Having avoided the other opponents, he decided to make a beeline for the main target, which was now struggling to escape just above treetop level. Pushing his P-38 into a nosedive, Lanphier raced up on the stricken Betty and blasted it from the side on, taking off one of its wings in the process. Coming out of his run, he then observed the flaming aircraft plunge into the jungle below.

Still pursued by Zeros, Lanphier powered his P-38 out of enemy range. Running low on fuel, and having suffered damage to his horizontal stabiliser, he decided to head back to base.

Once there, Lanphier reported he had shot down Yamamoto’s aircraft, then adding that Barber and Holmes had also shot down a Betty each. But this would have meant there were three, not two, Bettys that had been destroyed and no one else on the mission reported a third aircraft of this type in the vicinity. And how, at so early an stage, could Lanphier be sure the Betty he claimed was the one that carried Yamamoto? Either something strange had happened or Lanphier in his official version was mistaken and confused. Or, in Rex Barber’s opinion, perhaps it was even worse than this.

Barber’s account

Years later, the only known survivor from the Zero escort, Kenji Yanagiya, came forward and outlined events from his perspective. Importantly, he stressed that only two Bettys had been present. Yanagiya’s recollections concurred with the account given that of Yamamoto’s surviving chief of staff, Vice-Admiral Matome Ugaki. He had been travelling in the second Betty and confirmed only two of the aircraft were involved in the flight.

Both men’s testimonies revealed further discrepancies in Lanphier’s version of events. At the same time, they did much to bolster Rex Barber’s account, suggesting that it was he and not Lanphier who had made the decisive kill.

Once freed to take on the Bettys by Lanphier’s decision to tackle the Zeros, Barber said he swung right in an effort to line up the targets for an attack. Having made his move, he noted that one of the Bettys had disappeared from sight. Barber had manoeuvred, as the Japanese bomber pilot had later testified, into a position directly above the second Betty. Yamamoto’s aircraft, however, was now directly in the line of fire – at 1,000ft and still trying to descend to treetop level.

As Barber throttled back to increase his firing time and prepared to go in for the kill. While doing so, he noted that, somewhat strangely, there was no return fire from the rear gunner – a mystery that was cleared up when the wreck of Yamamoto’s aircraft was later investigated by US forces. For some unknown reason, the bomber had been stripped of its armaments, including the rear gun. Barber’s observation therefore gives his account an increased credence. 

Lined up, but with little time before the Zeros reached him, Barber had little time to make his attack. Almost 60 years later he recalled making the kill with great clarity. ‘I opened fire, aiming over the fuselage at the right engine. My aim was good and immediately I could see bits of engine cowling coming off. As I slid over to get directly behind the target, my line of fire passed through the vertical fin of the Betty and some of the pieces of rudder separated. As I moved further right, I continued firing into the right engine. The engine began to emit heavy black smoke from around the cowling. I still had time to move my fire back along the wing root and into the fuselage, then into the left engine.

‘Now I was no more than 100ft behind the Betty and almost level with it. Suddenly, the Betty snapped left and abruptly slowed. His right wing reared up in front of me and I almost ran into it. As I roared by, I looked over my left shoulder and saw the bomber with its wing upended vertically and black smoke pouring from the right engine. I believed he dived into the jungle, but I did not see the actual crash.

‘As far as I was concerned, I had achieved my objective and the number one priority was now to save my own skin – if I could. All six Zeros had caught up and, now that I was clear of the bomber, three were on my tail, making aggressive flying passes. I jammed on full throttles, turned hard to the right and headed towards the coast at treetop level, taking violent evasive action [...] The Zeroes had found their range and I was taking hits all over my aircraft. A later count back at the base showed 104 holes, including seven in the two props.’

Once out of harm’s way and in control of what can only be described as a flying pepper pot, Barber kept an eye out for the second Betty, which, for all he knew at this point, was the one carrying Yamamoto.

The battle to get back

Meanwhile, Hine and Holmes – who had finally shaken off his fuel tanks – were circling at 1,500ft also trying to spot the elusive second bomber. Holmes eventually spotted it trying to make an unnoticed getaway, heading south along Bougainville’s shoreline at almost wave height.

Holmes made the first approach. At first his bullets splashed harmlessly into the water, until, ‘walking up’ onto the target, they smashed into the right engine, which promptly started to smoke. Hine’s effort, probably due to his inexperience, was wide of the mark. Both pilots were now low on fuel and decided to head home, hoping that the damage they had caused to the Betty had been enough.

Barber had seen the action and was also running low on fuel. However, he decided to try and finish the stricken Betty off before he also headed back to base. ‘With the Zeros off my tail, I was free to go after the Betty myself. I dropped in behind, closed to less than 50 yards and opened fire, aiming at the right engine. Almost immediately, the bomber exploded. As I flew through the black smoke and debris, a large chunk hit my right wing, cutting my turbo supercharger intercooler. Another large piece hit the underside of my gondola, leaving a large dent.’

But still the battle was not over. Holmes and Hine had been jumped by more Zeros, that had probably scrambled from Kahili. Holmes shot one down – or again, so he thought (click here for ‘Zero Kills’). Hine, however, appears to have taken some damage during the duel. With his engine smoking and his P-38 rapidly losing altitude, he was last seen heading towards the nearby Shortland Island. All other members of the P-38 force made it back, albeit in dribs and drabs, having become separated in the swirling vortex of aerial battle.

Claim and counterclaim

The mudslinging between Lanphier and Barber began almost immediately after they had returned to Fighter Two airstrip. Shattered by the intensity of the mission, Barber stumbled into the debriefing tent to find Lanphier claiming he had shot down Yamamoto’s aircraft. ‘I asked him, “How do you know you got Yamamoto?” His only answer was: “You’re a damn liar; you’re a damn liar!” ’

For the young men who had just survived a ‘one in a thousand mission’, the need to celebrate was, understandably more important than hammering out the minutiae at a debriefing session. But this meant the post-combat report subsequently handed in by Lanphier – Barber’s senior – became the one on which the official version of events was based. Barber’s account was shelved. But it was picked up many years later when researchers tracked down the Japanese survivors and compared their accounts to Lanphier's and Barber’s.

Barber had also taken note of these developments and, after much persistence, managed to secure a re-evaluation of the mission’s outcome. But the authorities, not wanting to make a dramatic volte-face perhaps, decided to award the men half a kill each.

Several commentators have suggested that both Lanphier and Barber had attacked Yamamoto’s aircraft, but at different times. After all, Barber himself admitted he had not seen the Betty hit the ground – what if Lanphier had hit the bomber when Barber was flying out to join Holmes and Hine in the hunt for the second aircraft? Barber gave this possibility short shrift: ‘His pass at the Zeros took him 180-degrees from the way the bombers were going. He says he went up and rolled over on his back, but we were miles down the track by then. There’s was no possible way that could’ve gotten around and back to that bomber before it crashed. He was going the other way!’

The evidence stacks up

Later on a P-38 flown by investigating pilot, Lefty Gardner, was used to duplicate the manoeuvres Lanphier claimed he had performed in order to reach Yamamoto’s Betty. Gardner concluded it would have been impossible for Lanphier to have attacked the Zeros and then dived 6,000ft to destroy a target that was flying along at treetop level within the timeframe suggested.

Lanphier insisted he blasted the Betty from the side-on, while Barber said he had made the lethal approach from the rear. What could the wreck of the bomber reveal about the angle of attack? A detailed forensic examination was undertaken, noting that Yamamoto’s Betty had taken severe damage before hitting the jungle canopy and that this particular destruction was caused by rear-entry strikes.

Importantly, the autopsy made by the Japanese on Yamamoto’s body came to the conclusion that the fatal bullets had entered his body from behind. The remains of the wreck also revealed that both of the bomber’s wings were still attached before crashing into the jungle canopy. The right wing remained with the Betty, while the left wing was torn off after hitting the trees. Lanphier’s assertion that he shot off the Betty’s wing also casts doubt upon his version of events.

In a letter dated December 15, 1984, to General John Condon, Lanphier inadvertently highlighted further difficulties with his claim. ‘The bomber I shot the wing off of was intact from nose to the tip of its tail,’ he wrote. This assertion clearly contradicts the evidence gleaned from the wreck. Yamamoto’s aircraft, it should be remembered, had been badly damaged by a heavy fusillade from behind. If Lanphier had made the kill, then the target he would have seen would certainly not have been an aircraft intact from its nose to the tip of its tail.

Above and beyond the call of duty

Whoever one believes – and with the benefit hindsight it seems that Barber’s claim was probably the truth – it should be noted that both men displayed courage above and beyond the call of normal duty. They had flown into a hornet’s nest and returned mission complete.

The authorities were keen to downplay their achievement: not even the slightest hint that the Japanese codes had been cracked could be publicised. None of the men involved received the Medal of Honor – America’s highest award for bravery – due to an erroneous report that both men had revealed details to a journalist while on leave in New Zealand. They received the Navy Cross instead.

Lanphier and Barber (click here for 'an American hero') are no longer with us, but the mission they and the others flew on is rightly remembered as a defining moment in the Pacific Theatre and the Second World War in general. Yamamoto’s death presented Japan with a great strategic loss and a severe blow to national morale – the death of a commander raised to level of a military demi-god through government propaganda was a bitter pill to swallow. Meanwhile, the Japanese warlords now had very tangible proof that the USA was ready, willing and able to bring the perpetrators of Pearl Harbour to account.