In the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean during World War II, where steel titans clashed beneath tropical skies, and the fate of nations hung in the balance, one modest destroyer escort would accomplish what no other warship in naval history had achieved before or since.

This is the extraordinary tale of the USS England, a vessel that in just 12 days would sink six enemy submarines, establishing a record so remarkable that it remains unmatched to this day.

Between May 19th and May 31st, 1944, this single American warship would systematically hunt down and destroy an entire line of Japanese submarines, changing the course of naval warfare and demonstrating the deadly effectiveness of new anti-ubmarine technology.

The story of USS England is not merely a tale of technological superiority or tactical brilliance, but a profound testament to the convergence of human courage, intelligence breakthrough, and innovation under the most extreme conditions imaginable.

The story begins not with thunderous guns or dramatic sea battles, but in the quiet, methodical work of American codereers operating from a nondescript building in Pearl Harbor.

On May 13th, 1944, the Fleet Radio Unit Pacific, known as FUPAC, and the successor to the legendary commander Joseph Roshfort’s station Hypo, intercepted a routine Japanese radio transmission.

The message sent from the submarine I16 to the commander of Japanese submarine division 7 contained what seemed like mundane operational details.

An estimated time of arrival off Bugenville in the Solomon Islands scheduled for 2200 hours on May 22nd.

But to the trained eyes of American intelligence officers, this intercepted message represented something far more valuable.

an opportunity to strike at the heart of Japan’s underwater fleet.

The intelligence operation that made England’s success possible had its roots in years of painstaking work by American cryp analysts.

Since the early days of the war, teams of mathematicians, linguists, and puzzle solvers had labored in secrecy to break Japanese naval codes.

Their work conducted in windowless rooms filled with IBM tabulating machines and mountains of paper had already contributed to American victories at Midway and in the Solomon Islands.

But never before had decoded intelligence been used so directly and effectively in anti-ubmarine warfare.

The process of breaking the Japanese naval code JN25 required not just mathematical brilliance but also deep cultural understanding and linguistic expertise.

Each message had to be intercepted, recorded, analyzed for patterns and painstakingly decoded using techniques that combined mechanical computation with human intuition.

The decoded intelligence was immediately transmitted through secure channels to the third fleet and from there to commander Hamilton Haynes who commanded escort division 39 stationed at Tulagi in the Solomon Islands.

Haynes was a veteran destroyer commander who had seen action in the Atlantic before being transferred to the Pacific.

His experience hunting German hubot would prove invaluable in the coming engagement.

Haynes wasted no time in organizing a response.

He ordered the formation of a three- ship Hunter killer task group, selecting the best anti-ubmarine vessels available for this critical mission.

The group would consist of three Buckleyclass destroyer escorts.

USS George under the command of Lieutenant Commander Fred W.

Just Rabby DE698 commanded by Lieutenant Commander James Scott and USS England DE635 led by Lieutenant Commander Walton Barkley Pendleton.

England was temporarily detached from Escort Division 40 at Pervvis Bay on Florida Island to join this urgent mission.

All three ships departed Pervvis Bay on May 18th, 1944 with Commander Haynes embarked aboard George as the officer in tactical command.

The selection of these three ships was no accident.

Each had been specifically equipped and trained for anti-ubmarine warfare, and their crews had spent months perfecting their skills in the dangerous waters around the Solomon Islands.

The ships had worked together before, developing the teamwork and communication protocols that would prove essential in the coordinated attacks to come.

Their crews, though young and relatively inexperienced in combat, had been drilled relentlessly in sonar operation, attack procedures, and damage control.

This preparation would soon pay dividends beyond anyone’s imagination.

But this submarine hunt was part of a much larger strategic picture unfolding across the Pacific.

That same day, the task force departed.

Additional radio intelligence revealed a disturbing development.

The Japanese were establishing a scouting line of seven submarines designated the NA line stretching between the Admiral Ty Islands north of New Guinea and truck in the Caroline Islands.

This submarine picket line was positioned directly across the route that American carriers were expected to use in their next major operation.

The Japanese high command was anticipating new allied landings but remained uncertain about the target.

Would it be the Maranas, the Western Caroline Islands, or the western end of New Guinea? The strategic thinking behind the Japanese submarine deployment reflected the desperate situation facing the Imperial Navy in mid 1944.

With their carrier force decimated and their island bases increasingly isolated, submarines represented one of the few remaining tools for gathering intelligence and potentially disrupting American operations.

The NA line was conceived as an early warning system that would give the Japanese fleet time to respond to American moves.

Each submarine was assigned a specific patrol area with orders to remain on station and report any American naval movements.

The rigid nature of these assignments, so different from the flexible patrol areas used by American submarines, would prove to be a fatal flaw in the Japanese plan.

The Japanese strategic planners analyzing recent American carrier strikes supporting General Douglas MacArthur’s westward advance along New Guiney’s northern coast concluded that Western New Guinea was the most likely target.

In response, the commanderin-chief of the Japanese combined fleet, Admiral Somu Toyota, issued orders for operation AGO, intended to be the decisive naval battle that would halt the American advance and protect Japan’s inner defense perimeter encompassing the Maranas, Western Caroline Islands, and Western New Guinea.

The execution of this plan would ultimately lead to catastrophic Japanese defeats in what history would remember as the Battle of the Philippine Sea and the Mariana’s Turkey shoot where Japan would lose three aircraft carriers and hundreds of irreplaceable pilots and aircraft in June 1944.

The planning for Operation Ago revealed the fundamental weaknesses in Japanese naval strategy by 1944.

The loss of experienced pilots at Midway, the Eastern Solomons, and Santa Cruz had never been fully replaced.

The new pilots being rushed through abbreviated training programs lacked the skills of their predecessors.

Meanwhile, American pilot training had become a massive industrial enterprise, producing thousands of highly trained aviators.

The technological gap was widening, too.

American fighters like the F6F Hellcat significantly outperformed their Japanese counterparts and American ships bristled with radar directed anti-aircraft guns that made attacking them increasingly suicidal.

To support Operation Ago, Vice Admiral Takagi Teo, commander of the Japanese 6th Fleet Submarines, directed submarines from the seventh submarine squadron to establish the NA scouting line.

Takagi was a veteran submarine commander who had witnessed the steady deterioration of Japan’s underwater fleet.

At the war’s start, Japanese submarines had been among the best in the world with highly trained crews and excellent torpedoes.

But losses had been heavy, and replacement crews lacked the skill and experience of their predecessors.

Moreover, Japanese submarine doctrine, which emphasized attacks on warships rather than merchant vessels, had proven strategically flawed.

While American submarines were strangling Japan’s supply lines, Japanese submarines were being hunted to extinction with little to show for their sacrifice.

In a decision that would prove fatal, seven Japanese submarines were assigned to specific fixed positions along this line rather than being given flexible operating areas as American submarines typically were.

This rigid positioning would become a critical vulnerability.

The chain of events that would doom these submarines began when Japanese forces intercepted an American aircraft’s contact report on submarine RO104.

In response, the Japanese promptly radioed orders to the entire NA line to shift their positions 60 nautical miles to the southeast, transmitting specific coordinates for each submarine’s new position.

This seemingly routine operational message was intercepted by American radio intelligence and immediately forwarded to the Joint Intelligence Center Pacific Ocean Area, where crypt analysts worked feverishly to break out the coordinates.

The process was complex and required not just breaking the code but understanding the Japanese Navy’s coordinate system and operational procedures.

Though the process was complex and required careful analysis, the American codereers successfully extracted the precise positions of each submarine in the NA line.

For the first time in the Pacific War, this ultra secret intelligence would be sanitized and shared directly with anti-ubmarine forces, giving them an unprecedented advantage in hunting enemy submarines.

The intelligence proved remarkably accurate.

In each case, the Japanese submarines would be found within 50 nautical miles and often much closer to exactly where the decoded messages indicated they would be.

The decision to share this intelligence with tactical units represented a significant risk.

If the Japanese realized their codes were compromised, they might change them, depriving the allies of a crucial advantage.

Elaborate precautions were taken to disguise the source of the intelligence.

Cover stories were prepared, attributing the submarine discoveries to aerial reconnaissance or routine patrols.

The crews of the destroyer escorts were told they were acting on aerial sighting reports, never knowing that their success was enabled by one of the war’s most closely guarded secrets.

The three destroyer escorts of the Hunter Killer Group were all relatively new Buckleyclass vessels, part of a massive wartime construction program that would eventually produce 154 of these specialized anti-ubmarine warships with 148 completed and some serving with the British Royal Navy under lend lease.

The Buckley class represented a compromise between capability and mass production.

Smaller and less expensive than fleet destroyers, they could be built quickly in commercial shipyards by workers with limited experience.

Yet, they packed enough firepower and anti-ubmarine equipment to be deadly submarine hunters.

Their diesel electric propulsion system while limiting their top speed gave them exceptional range and the ability to operate for extended periods without refueling.

Each ship had been named to honor a fallen hero, carrying forward the legacy of American servicemen who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

This naming tradition served not just to honor the dead, but to inspire the living.

The crews of these ships knew they sailed under the names of heroes, and this knowledge instilled a sense of duty and determination that went beyond normal military obligation.

USS George bore the name of Seaman Secondclass Eugene F.

George who had been postumously awarded the Navy Cross for his heroic actions as an anti-aircraft gunner aboard the heavy cruiser USS San Francisco during the brutal naval battle of Guadal Canal on November 12th, 1942.

The battle off Guadal Canal had been one of the most savage surface engagements of the war.

fought at pointblank range in the darkness with ships firing at each other based on muzzle flashes and shadowy silhouettes when a damaged Japanese G4M Betty bomber already a flame from San Francisco’s anti-aircraft fire deliberately aimed for the cruiser’s gun positions in a suicide attack.

Seaman George and his fellow gunners stood their ground, continuing to fire at the approaching aircraft until the very moment of impact.

The bomber crashed into San Francisco’s bridge structure, killing Admiral Daniel Callahan and his staff, but George and his gun crew never wavered.

George and several other San Francisco gunners who died at their posts that day were awarded the Navy Cross, and ships were named in their honor.

USS Rabby was named for Rear Admiral James Joseph Rabby, who had earned the Navy Cross during World War I while commanding transatlantic convoy operations, including the very first convoy to cross the Atlantic under American escort.

Rabby had been a pioneer in anti-ubmarine warfare during the First World War, developing many of the tactics and procedures that were still in use.

His experience had proven that convoys properly escorted could defeat the submarine menace.

Tragically, Admiral Rabby was killed in an automobile accident in 1934 while serving as commandant of the Charleston Naval District, but his legacy of protecting merchant shipping would live on through the vessel that bore his name.

USS England carried perhaps the most poignant history of all.

She was named for Enen John Charles England, a young naval officer who had been killed during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941.

England, just 4 days shy of his 21st birthday, had volunteered to work in USS Oklahoma’s radio room that fateful morning, trading shifts with a friend so the other man could spend more time with his family when they arrived in Hawaii.

England himself was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his wife and 3-week old daughter whom he had never seen.

When Japanese torpedoes struck the battleship, and she began to capsize, Enson England initially escaped to the deck.

The scene that greeted him was one of unimaginable chaos.

Oklahoma was rolling over, trapping hundreds of men inside her hull.

Oilcovered sailors were struggling in the water, some on fire, while Japanese aircraft strafed survivors.

But remembering the men still trapped in the radio room below, England made a fateful decision.

He returned to the sinking ship’s interior.

Three times he descended into the capsizing battleship, each time successfully guiding a trapped sailor to safety through passages that were rapidly filling with water and oil.

The ship’s electrical system had failed, plunging the interior into darkness.

England had to navigate by touch and memory, fighting against rushing water and the ship’s increasing list.

On his fourth attempt to rescue his shipmates, Enson England disappeared into the Oklahoma’s flooding compartments and was never seen again.

He was one of 429 officers and men who perished aboard Oklahoma that day.

The tragedy of USS Oklahoma was one of the most horrific of Pearl Harbor.

As the ship capsized, hundreds of men were trapped in air pockets within her hull.

For days after the attack, salvage workers could hear tapping from inside the ship as trapped sailors signaled for help.

Heroic efforts were made to cut through the hull and rescue survivors, and 32 men were eventually saved.

But for most, including Enen England, there would be no rescue.

Initially buried among the unknown casualties at Punchbowl National Cemetery in Hawaii, Enson England’s remains would not be identified until 2016 when advances in DNA technology finally allowed him to be returned home to Colorado Springs, where he was re-eried next to his parents.

Though he received only a Purple Heart for his sacrifice, his extraordinary heroism in repeatedly risking and ultimately giving his life to save others would be commemorated through not one but two warships bearing his name, DE635 and the later guided missile cruiser CG22.

The Buckley class destroyer escorts were purpose-built submarine hunters, armed with three 3-in guns for surface action, but optimized for anti-ubmarine warfare.

Their main battery, while adequate for defense against aircraft and surface craft, was deliberately kept light to save weight and cost.

The real striking power of these ships lay in their anti-ubmarine armorament.

Their arsenal included one triple bank of 21-in torpedoes, two stern-mounted depth charge racks, eight K gun depth charge projectors that could hurl charges to either side of the ship, and most importantly, one Mark 10 hedgehog anti-ubmarine mortar.

It was this last weapon that would prove decisive in the coming battles.

The development of specialized anti-ubmarine vessels like the Buckley class reflected hard-learned lessons from the Battle of the Atlantic.

There, German Ubot had come perilously close to severing Britain’s lifelines.

The Allies had learned that defeating submarines required not just weapons, but also specialized platforms optimized for the task.

These ships needed long range to escort convoys across vast ocean distances, good seaeping abilities to operate in rough weather, and sophisticated detection equipment to find submerged submarines.

The Buckley class incorporated all these requirements in a package that could be mass-roduced in American shipyards.

The Hedgehog represented a revolution in anti-ubmarine warfare, addressing fundamental flaws that had plagued submarine hunters since World War I.

Developed by the British Directorate of Miscellaneous Weapons Development in 1941 and first deployed in 1942, the Hedgehog had only recently become widely available to American forces in late 1943.

The weapons development had been driven by desperate necessity during Britain’s darkest hours when Ubot were sinking merchant ships faster than they could be replaced.

The weapon consisted of 24 projectiles arranged in six rows of four mounted on a trainable platform that could fire them in an elliptical pattern 200 to 300 yd ahead of the attacking ship.

Each projectile weighed 65 lb with a 35lb charge of TNT or Torpex explosive.

The projectiles would be fired in a carefully timed sequence so that all 24 would impact the water simultaneously, creating a deadly pattern approximately 140 ft by 120 ft in area.

The name hedgehog came from the weapon’s appearance when loaded.

The spigot mortars protruding from the launcher resembled the spines of the small mammal.

But there was nothing small about the weapons impact on naval warfare.

It represented a fundamental shift in how surface ships attacked submarines, solving problems that had bedeled naval tacticians for decades.

What made the hedgehog revolutionary was its contactfused warheads.

Unlike traditional depth charges, which detonated at preset depths using hydrostatic fuses, regardless of whether they were near a submarine, each hedgehog projectile would only explode on direct contact with a solid object.

This fundamental difference provided several crucial advantages that would prove decisive in the battles ahead.

First, the success or failure of an attack was immediately apparent.

If one or more projectiles hit a submarine, there would be explosions.

If all missed, there would be silence.

Ship commanders no longer had to wait 20 minutes or more, scanning the surface for oil or debris to determine if their attack had succeeded.

The hedgehog could be reloaded in approximately 3 minutes, allowing for rapid follow-up attacks if the first salvo missed.

This quick reload time was critical.

Submarines that survived the first attack often escaped during the long reload times required for traditional depth charge attacks.

Second, and perhaps most importantly, the hedgehog solved the problem of sonar blindness that had long plagued anti-ubmarine forces.

Traditional depth charges created massive underwater explosions, whether they hit their target or not.

And these detonations would deafen the attacking ship’s sonar for many minutes, creating sound disturbances that could take up to 15 minutes to dissipate.

During this period of acoustic blindness, submarines could often escape undetected.

The concussion from depth charges also created a barrier of turbulent water and air bubbles that reflected sonar pulses, making tracking impossible.

with the hedgehog.

If the projectiles missed, there were no explosions to disturb the water, allowing the attacking ship to maintain continuous sonar contact and immediately set up for another attack.

The psychological dynamics were also different.

While depth charges created a terrifying barrage of explosions that could damage submarine morale, even when they missed, potentially forcing submarines to surface or surrender.

The hedgehog was a silent killer.

Submarines had no warning that an attack was underway until the projectiles were already in the water, taking about 7 seconds to sink to 200 ft.

This gave submarine commanders no time to take evasive action.

With traditional stern dropped depth charges, experienced submarine captains could calculate when they entered the attacking ship’s minimum sonar detection range and execute sharp evasive maneuvers to avoid the charges being rolled off the stern.

Some submarine commanders had become so skilled at this that they could predict almost exactly when depth charges would explode and maneuver accordingly.

The Hedgehog eliminated this tactical option entirely.

Statistics from the war would later prove the hedgehog’s devastating effectiveness.

British analysis showed that during World War II, an average of 60 traditional depth charge attacks were required to sink one submarine.

In the early war period, this ratio was even worse, sometimes over 100 attacks per kill.

With the Hedgehog, this ratio improved dramatically to approximately one submarine sunk for every 5 to six attacks, a 10-fold improvement in lethality.

Although each hedgehog projectile carried less explosive power than a standard depth charge, a direct hit from even a single projectile was usually sufficient to breach a submarine’s pressure hull and send it to the bottom.

The contact explosion against the hull was far more destructive than the pressure wave from a near miss depth charge explosion, as the hull itself helped contain and focus the explosive force inward.

The submarine I16 that had triggered this hunt was no ordinary vessel, but a veteran of nine war patrols with a distinguished, if ultimately tragic, combat record.

A type C1 submarine, one of the largest in the Japanese fleet, I16 was 358 ft long and displaced 3,561 tons submerged.

She was specially equipped to carry a typea submarine mounted on her deck.

And it was I16 that had achieved a unique place in history by launching the very first submarine attack of the Pacific War.

The story of I-16’s role at Pearl Harbor illustrated both the innovation and the ultimate futility of Japanese naval special operations.

The submarine program had been developed in great secrecy with the tiny twoman craft intended to penetrate enemy harbors and deliver devastating torpedo attacks.

Five mother submarines including Arm 16 had carried submarines to Pearl Harbor, launching them in the pre-dawn hours of December 7th, 1941.

Under the command of Lieutenant Junior Grade Yokoyama Masaharu, I16’s submarine had been launched at 0042, several hours before the Pearl Harbor air attack, attempting to penetrate the harbor defenses and attack American warships from within.

The fate of these submarines revealed the gap between Japanese ambition and reality.

Though Yokoyama’s craft never returned and his fate remained unknown, I16 received radio transmissions believed to be from his on the afternoon of December 7th reporting a successful attack and another early on December 8th indicating the craft could not navigate.

Postwar analysis suggested that none of the submarines successfully attacked American ships at Pearl Harbor.

One was sunk by the destroyer USS Ward in the war’s opening shots.

Another was destroyed inside the harbor by USS Monahan.

One ran a ground and its sole survivor became America’s first Japanese prisoner of war and two simply vanished.

None of the five submarines launched that day returned to their mother ships, and of the 10 crewmen, only one survived the war as a prisoner.

6 months later on May 30th, 1942, I16 achieved what had eluded her at Pearl Harbor, a successful submarine attack.

Operating in the Indian Ocean against British forces at Diego Suarez, Madagascar, I-16 launched another submarine commanded by Ensen Iwas Katsusuk.

This submarine successfully penetrated the British anchorage and fired its torpedoes, scoring a hit on the British battleship HMS Ramilies that caused severe damage.

The 29,150 ton battleship, a veteran of World War I, took on 1,800 tons of water and was nearly lost.

Though Ramilies survived thanks to excellent damage control and would go on to bombard German positions during D-Day, the attack demonstrated I-16’s capability for launching devastating surprise attacks.

The submarine also sank the tanker British loyalty before being lost with its crew.

This success at Madagascar represented the high watermark of Japanese submarine operations, proving the concept could work under the right circumstances, but also highlighting the extreme danger and typically one-way nature of such missions.

During the Guadal Canal campaign, I-16 conducted multiple resupply runs to isolated Japanese garrisons and launched additional submarine attacks.

The submarine had become part of the Tokyo Express.

The desperate effort to supply Japanese forces in the Solomon Islands by submarine after surface ships could no longer safely make the journey.

On November 28th, 1942, she launched H10, which successfully torpedoed the American cargo ship USS Alchiba, forcing her to beat herself to avoid sinking.

Alchea loaded with aviation fuel and ammunition burned for days but was eventually salvaged.

I16 subsequently covered the Japanese evacuation of Guadal Canal in early 1943 and continued supply runs to bypass garrisons in New Guinea.

She had survived an air attack in December 1943 that caused light damage, but her luck was about to run out.

The supply missions that I16 and her sisters undertook represented the deteriorating Japanese strategic position.

Once proud fleet submarines were reduced to carrying rice and medical supplies to starving garrisons on bypassed islands.

Each mission meant running a gauntlet of American aircraft and warships for the dubious reward of delivering a few tons of supplies to troops who were ultimately doomed.

It was a terrible waste of scarce submarines and trained crews, but the Japanese Navy’s code of honor demanded that no garrison be abandoned while any means of supply remained.

On May 14th, 1944, I16 departed Trrook Lagoon under the command of Lieutenant Commander Takayuchi Yoshitaka, carrying a cargo of rice in 75B rubber bags intended for the starving Japanese garrison at Buin on Bugenville.

The garrison there had been bypassed by American forces and was slowly being starved into submission, making supply runs by submarine their only lifeline.

The 40,000 Japanese troops on Bugenville had been cut off since November 1943, and conditions had become desperate.

Men were dying of starvation and disease daily, and incidents of cannibalism had been reported.

But I16’s departure transmission, intercepted and decoded by American intelligence, had sealed her fate.

The three American destroyer escorts were already converging on her predicted position.

On the afternoon of May 19th, 1944, an Allied reconnaissance aircraft, a consolidated PBY Catalina from a Navy patrol squadron, spotted I-16 on the surface north of Buganville, confirming the intelligence that had brought the Hunter killer group to these waters.

The submarine was running on the surface to recharge her batteries and make better speed toward her destination.

Japanese submarines of this period suffered from relatively weak batteries and slow underwater speeds, forcing them to spend considerable time on the surface where they were vulnerable to aircraft and radar equipped warships.

The three destroyer escorts immediately formed a line a breast and commenced a coordinated sonar sweep of the area.

This formation with ships spaced at optimal sonar detection intervals created an acoustic net that few submarines could escape.

At 1335 hours, England’s sonar operator, a young sailor from Iowa, who had never seen the ocean before joining the Navy, reported contact with a submerged submarine.

The distinctive ping of the sonar return indicated a solid object at a range of 1,350 yd.

The hunt was on.

I16 immediately commenced the standard Japanese submarine evasion tactics, radical changes in depth and direction, sudden speed changes, and sharp turns designed to throw off the attacking ship’s targeting solution.

These tactics had been developed through hard experience and had saved many submarines from destruction.

Japanese submarine commanders were trained to think three-dimensionally, using depth as well as course changes to evade attackers.

Lieutenant Commander Takayuchi was fighting for his life and the lives of his 106 crew members.

Lieutenant Commander Pendleton brought England in for her first attack run.

The approach required precise coordination between the sonar operators tracking the submarine, the plotting team calculating the targets course and speed, and the hedgehog crew preparing their weapon.

But the first hedgehog salvo missed as I 16 successfully evaded, diving deep and turning sharply at the last moment.

The second attack also failed to connect.

I16 was using every trick in the book, releasing bubbles to create false sonar targets, changing depth rapidly to throw off range calculations, and making radical course changes that pushed the submarine’s hull to its structural limits.

On the third attack, England’s hedgehog scored a single hit, but the big submarine’s strong hull absorbed the damage, and she continued her desperate evasion maneuvers.

The explosion would have been devastating inside the submarine.

The concussion throwing men against bulkheads, shattering light bulbs, and potentially causing flooding.

But I16’s crew managed to maintain control and continue evading.

Japanese damage control training was excellent, and submarine crews were drilled relentlessly in dealing with battle damage.

Pendleton, demonstrating remarkable persistence and tactical skill, set up for a fourth attack, which again missed the violently maneuvering submarine.

By now, the hunt had been going on for over an hour.

The tension aboard England was palpable.

The crew knew they had a submarine trapped, but couldn’t deliver the killing blow.

In the plotting room, officers worked frantically to predict I-16’s next move.

The sonar operators strained to maintain contact as the submarine dove deeper, approaching the thermal layers where temperature differences in the water could hide it from sonar.

But on the fifth attack run, England’s hedgehog crew had learned from their previous attempts.

They had noticed patterns in Cloud 16’s evasion tactics, a tendency to turn to port when diving, a preference for certain depth bands.

At 1435 hours, multiple projectiles found their mark and the ocean erupted.

The massive underwater explosion that followed was so powerful, it lifted England’s stern completely out of the water, throwing men to the deck and rattling the entire ship.

The explosion was heard and felt on the other destroyer escorts thousands of yards away.

20 minutes later, oil and debris began rising to the surface.

rice bags, pieces of wood, cork insulation, and other unmistakable evidence that I 16 had been destroyed.

Among the debris were personal effects, a sailor’s cap, pages from a Japanese book, a wooden sandal, poignant reminders of the human cost of war.

The submarine that had launched the first attack at Pearl Harbor was gone, taking all 107 officers and men, including Lieutenant Commander Takuchi, to their deaths.

They had died in the service of a lost cause, carrying rice to a garrison that would surrender anyway when the war ended.

Meanwhile, the seven submarines of the NA line had departed Saipan around May 17th, 1944 to take up their assigned positions.

The departure had been marked by a ceremony attended by Vice Admiral Takagi himself, who exhorted the submarine commanders to do their duty for the emperor.

Each captain received a ceremonial cup of sake and a white headband inscribed with patriotic slogans.

They knew the odds against their survival were high.

American anti-ubmarine capabilities had improved dramatically since the war’s early days.

All seven were ROC class boats, Type RO 100 submarines that were much smaller than I6.

Originally designed for coastal defense, these 760 ton boats were armed with four torpedo tubes in the bow, carrying eight torpedoes total, plus a 76 mm deck gun.

The design reflected pre-war Japanese naval thinking that emphasized quality over quantity, resulting in submarines that were well-built, but too few in number and lacking the mass production advantages that made American submarines so effective.

Most were equipped with type 22 radar detectors, but lacked radar themselves, making them poorly suited for the reconnaissance mission they had been assigned.

Their job was to spot American carrier forces and report their movements.

But without radar, they would have to spend dangerous amounts of time on the surface using visual lookouts.

Of the 20 Type RO 100 submarines Japan would build during the war, not a single one would survive to see the surrender.

The first submarine of the NA line to meet its fate was RO106.

This submarine had already compiled a notable war record.

On July 18th, 1943, during operations in the Solomon Islands, RO106 had torpedoed the American tank landing ship LST 342 in Blanch Channel near New Georgia.

The torpedo detonated the LST’s ammunition stores, causing a catastrophic explosion that blew the ship in half.

The stern section sank immediately while the forward section remained afloat long enough to be towed to shore.

Among the 121 men killed were the ship’s entire mess division of African-American stewards and cooks as well as the renowned artist Lieutenant Commander Mlelen Barkley who had created many of the war’s most famous recruiting posters before volunteering for combat duty.

RO106 had survived serious damage from air dropped depth charges in October 1943 and returned to service after repairs.

In the pre-dawn darkness of May 22nd, 1944 at 0350 hours, George’s radar operator detected a surface contact that proved to be RO106.

The submarine was running on the surface, recharging batteries under the cover of darkness.

A necessary but dangerous operation that left submarines vulnerable to radar equipped enemies.

George illuminated the submarine with a 24-in search light, catching her completely by surprise.

Her E27 radar detector had failed to function, leaving her blind to the approaching destroyer escort.

The powerful beam of light would have been blinding to the submarine’s bridge, who had been using night vision to scan for enemies.

Despite the surprise, RO106’s crew reacted quickly, crash diving beneath the surface before George could bring her guns to bear.

The submarine’s officer of the deck ordered an emergency dive, and within seconds, the bridge was cleared, and the submarine was heading under.

The dive took less than 40 seconds, well within Japanese Navy standards, but it wasn’t fast enough to completely escape.

George launched a hedgehog attack at 0415, but missed the frantically evading submarine.

At 0425, England gained sonar contact on RO106 as she attempted to escape.

The submarine was making turns for 8 knots, zigzagging violently while changing depth.

England’s first hedgehog attack missed, but then the submarine made what may have been a fatal tactical error.

RO106 reversed course and turned Bon to England, possibly attempting to fire torpedoes at her attacker.

This maneuver, however, presented a perfect target for the hedgehog.

Not understanding how the new weapon system worked, that it fired ahead rather than being dropped over the stern.

The submarine commander had inadvertently positioned his boat directly in the hedgehog’s kill zone.

England’s second attack scored at least three direct hits.

The explosions would have been catastrophic inside the submarine.

The hull breached in multiple places, water rushing in at tremendous pressure, electrical systems shorting out in showers of sparks.

The submarine broke up immediately, her pressure hull collapsing as she plunged toward the ocean floor.

RO106 was lost with all 49 hands.

The entire action from first radar contact to the submarine’s destruction had taken just 36 minutes.

The next day brought another success.

RO104 under the command of Latutenant Hisashi Izubuchi had spent most of her previous patrols in the frigid waters of the North Pacific and Alutian Islands.

A stark contrast to the tropical waters where she now hunted.

The North Pacific had been a secondary theater for Japanese submarines, used mainly for reconnaissance and occasional attacks on the supply line between the United States and the Soviet Union.

During operations in the Solomons in late 1943, RORO 104 had performed a remarkable rescue mission on November 3rd, 1943, saving 75 survivors of the Japanese light cruiser Sai after she was sunk in a night surface action with American cruisers during the Battle of Empress Augusta Bay.

The rescue had been performed under dangerous conditions with American aircraft patrolling overhead and the constant threat of discovery by American warships.

Among those rescued was Rear Admiral Baron Matsuji Iduin, commander of Japanese destroyer Squadron 3, whose survival was considered vital to the Imperial Navy.

On May 23rd, 1944, at 0604 hours, an Allied aircraft spotted RO104 on the surface approximately 250 nautical miles northnorthwest of Caviang, New Ireland.

This time, the submarine’s radar detector worked, giving just enough warning for an emergency dive.

The submarine’s lookout spotted the aircraft at almost the same moment the radar detector alarm sounded, and she quickly submerged before the destroyer escorts could close to gun range.

Once submerged, RO104’s captain employed every evasion technique he knew.

Rabby made the first attack run, but RO104 had learned from the fate of her sisters.

In addition to violent evasive maneuvers, the submarine employed a sophisticated countermeasure transmitting bursts of tuned sound impulses designed to jam rabies sonar.

This technique known as acoustic deception had been developed by Japanese submariners as a lastditch defense against sonarguided attacks.

The tactic worked.

Ra made four hedgehog attacks over the course of 2 hours, all of which missed.

George then took over the attack with her crew determined to succeed where Rabbi had failed.

The destroyer escort made five hedgehog runs against the elusive submarine.

Despite the crew’s best efforts and increasingly accurate attacks, all five salvos missed as RO 104 twisted and turned beneath the waves.

The submarine’s captain was fighting for his crew’s lives with skill and determination, but he was only delaying the inevitable.

Each evasion maneuver consumed precious battery power, and the submarine’s air was growing foul with carbon dioxide as the life support systems struggled to keep up.

Finally, at 0819, England moved in for her turn.

The first hedgehog attack missed, but England’s sonar team had been carefully observing RO104’s evasion patterns for over 2 hours.

They noticed that the submarine tended to turn to starboard while diving, preferred depths between 200 and 250 ft and accelerated just before making major course changes.

On the second attack, England’s team had precisely calculated RO104’s next move.

Between 10 and 12 projectiles found their mark, and the resulting underwater explosion was followed by the unmistakable sounds of a submarine breaking up.

the screech of tearing metal, the thunder of imploding compartments, and then silence.

It wasn’t until 10:45 that debris finally reached the surface, confirming that RO 104 and all 58 hands had been lost.

The debris field was extensive, wooden decking, cork insulation, clothing, and the oil slick that had become the signature of a submarine’s grave.

Among the debris was a life ring with Japanese characters providing definitive proof of the kill.

The deadly efficiency of the Hunter killer group was becoming apparent.

In just 4 days, they had sunk three Japanese submarines, but the hunt was far from over.

The very next day, May 24th, brought another contact and another kill.

RO116 was relatively new on only her second war patrol under the command of Lieutenant Commander Shibuya Kuno.

The submarine had been commissioned just 6 months earlier, and her crew was still gaining experience.

Many were recent graduates of the submarine school at Cure, young men who had joined the Navy filled with dreams of glory, but were now facing the harsh reality of a war Japan was losing.

At 01200 hours, George gained radar contact at the remarkable range of 17,000 yards, nearly 10 miles, approximately 225 nautical miles northn northwest of Caviang.

This exceptional detection range was due to ideal atmospheric conditions that enhanced radar propagation.

RO16 dove immediately, but her crash dive was slower than it should have been, a sign of her crew’s relative inexperience.

At 015, George gained sonar contact at just 750 yd.

The submarine employed the same desperate tactics as her predecessors.

Violent rudder shifts, radical depth changes, and sophisticated sonar jamming.

These tactics proved temporarily successful, frustrating George’s attacks.

The destroyer escort made multiple runs, but each time RO116 managed to evade at the last moment.

England moved in and made two aborted hedgehog runs when the targeting solution fell apart at the last moment.

The submarine was fighting hard, but her crews inexperience was beginning to show.

Their evasion patterns were becoming predictable, and they were slow to respond to the attacking ship’s maneuvers.

But on the third attempt, England’s crew had RO116’s number.

At 0214, at least three projectiles struck home.

The submarine’s destruction was swift, but oddly quiet.

There were none of the massive secondary explosions that had marked previous kills.

This suggested that RO116’s torpedoes had not detonated, possibly because the hits were in areas away from the torpedo room or because safety procedures had prevented sympathetic detonations.

RO116 simply broke apart and sank, taking all 56 hands with her into the depths.

2 days later on May 26th, the Hunter Killer Group found RO108 commanded by Lieutenant Oari Konichi.

This submarine had already proven herself dangerous to American forces.

On October 3rd, 1943, RO108 had fired a spread of four torpedoes at three American destroyers that presented an overlapping target in Huan Gulf off New Guinea.

It had been a textbook attack.

RO108 had detected the destroyers by their sonar pinging, maneuvered into perfect position, and fired a spread that gave maximum probability of hits.

USS Smith detected the torpedo wakes and successfully evaded, her captain ordering emergency speed and full rudder to comb the wakes.

But USS Henley was not so fortunate.

Two torpedoes struck her port side amid ships in the number one fire room, breaking the destroyer’s keel.

The hits were devastating.

The explosion ruptured fuel tanks, started massive flooding, and broke the ship’s back.

Henley broke in two and sank rapidly, killing 15 men and wounding 52 others.

Smith and USS Reed counteratt attacked, but RO 108 escaped, diving deep and running silent while the Americans dropped depth charges in her wake.

Later, on December 17th, 1943, RO108 was caught on the surface by a PBY Catalina flying boat while recharging her batteries.

The aircraft’s attack with depth charges caused serious damage, and the submarine went down by the stern, taking on water through damaged hull plates.

But somehow her crew managed to save her through heroic damage control efforts, working in flooded compartments to shore up bulkheads and patch leaks.

She returned to service after months of repairs at Tru.

At 2303 hours on May 26th, Rabby gained radar contact on RO 108 at 15,000 yards, approximately 110 nautical miles northeast of Cedler Harbor at Manis Island.

England also gained radar contact before the submarine dove.

Once submerged, England gained sonar contact at 1,650 yd.

The submarine was making maximum submerged speed, trying to open the range before the destroyer escorts could attack.

Rabi was vetored in for the first attack, but her hedgehog salvo missed.

The submarine had turned inside Rabby’s attack run, a maneuver that required precise timing and steady nerves.

At 2323, England commenced her attack run.

This time, there would be no prolonged hunt.

England’s hedgehog scored between four and six hits on the first salvo.

The multiple explosions would have torn RO108 apart instantly.

The submarine’s hull, already weakened by her previous battle damage, couldn’t withstand the multiple direct hits.

RO108 went down with all 53 hands.

By now, Japanese naval intelligence was becoming alarmed.

On May 27th, 1944, the Japanese 6th Fleet intercepted and decoded American naval communications, indicating several submarines had been sunk north of the Admiral T Islands.

The American reports were described by Japanese intelligence as increasingly jubilant in tone.

The Japanese radio intelligence service, though not as successful as its American counterpart, was still capable of intercepting and partially reading American communications.

Warning messages were immediately transmitted to the remaining submarines of the NA line.

The messages were sent on multiple frequencies and repeated several times to ensure reception.

RO112 received the warning and immediately cleared the area.

She would survive only to be sunk by USS Batfish off Luzon on February 11th, 1945 with the loss of all 61 hands.

R109 also received the warning and escaped the killing zone, though she too was living on borrowed time.

She would be sunk by the destroyer transport USS Horus a base off Okinawa on May 7th, 1945 with all hands lost.

But RO105 under the command of Lieutenant Junichi Ino either never received the warning or for reasons that will never be known chose to remain at her assigned position.

Perhaps her radio was damaged or perhaps her captain felt dutybound to maintain his station regardless of the danger.

The submarine had sorted from Saipan on May 14th, 1944 with the commander of Japanese submarine division 51, Captain Ryanos Kato embarked, adding even more pressure to remain on station.

The presence of a division commander aboard would have made it virtually impossible for Lieutenant Inu to abandon his patrol area without explicit orders.

During previous patrols, RO105 had several close calls.

On August 12th, 1943, she had narrowly avoided two torpedoes fired by USS Tarpon in a stern shot through violent evasive action.

The American submarine had achieved perfect firing position, but RO 105’s lookouts had spotted the torpedo wakes just in time.

In September 1943, she had fired torpedoes at the light cruiser USS Colombia, but missed when the cruiser detected the torpedoes and evaded.

She had also rescued several downed Japanese aviators at various times, earning the gratitude of the Naval Air Service.

These rescues were dangerous operations, requiring the submarine to surface in daylight near enemy controlled territory.

After sinking RO108, the three destroyer escorts had to replenish their heavily depleted stocks of hedgehog projectiles, they proceeded to Seedler Harbor at Manis in the Admiral Ty Islands, where they quickly loaded ammunition and supplies.

The replenishment was done with urgency.

Everyone knew there were still enemy submarines out there, and every hour spent in port was an hour the submarines could use to escape or attack American forces.

Upon departing, they joined a larger hunter killer task group that had arrived in the area centered on the escort carrier USS Hoget Bay and including the destroyers USS Hazelwood, USS Herman, USS Hull, and USS McCord, plus the destroyer escort USS Spangler.

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