Lead Rain
by Owen Kivela ‘14
June 4th, 1942 Midway Atoll, 0700 hours
The weather was clear at 0700 hours on the USS Enterprise. A few clouds glided across the sky and the sun was peaking over the horizon to the east. Crew men were running across the deck, outfitting the planes with torpedoes and bombs for the raid.
We were to lead the attack on the Japanese carrier task force to our north west. The Japanese battle group consisted of the aircraft carriers Akagi, Kaga, Hiryu and Soryu and their escort–three heavy cruisers and an assortment of destroyers. My flight group TF-16 was assigned to knock out the Akagi. Lieutenant Woodson, our flight leader, had informed us that this would be our toughest fight yet, but we were ready.
“Contact!” I yelled from my cockpit to the crew on the deck. I pushed the ignition and slowly pushed down the throttle. The engine of my Grumman F4F Wildcat roared to life. In front of me Lt. Woodson was already in the air. I pushed down the throttle all the way and the plane hurtled down the deck of the carrier. Once I was off the deck, I glanced back and saw Sergeant Kyle Beck and Sergeant John Carter climbing into the sky behind me.
At 0800 hours we spotted smoke on the horizon from the Japanese carrier group. They were steaming towards the USS Enterprise and our battle group. Woodson’s voice crackled through over our radios. “Climb to 30,000 feet and wait for my order to engage.” We pushed our planes to their maximum height as we flew closer and closer to our target. The g-force at 30,000 feet gave me an incredible feeling; it was like there was a brick wall slowly crushing me into my seat. We flew over the ocean for an hour and 0830 hours we got the word from the USS Enterprise.
“TF-16, you are cleared to begin your bombing runs.”
I saw Lt. Woodson yank his plane into a steep dive right above the IJN Akagi and I followed. We hurtled down closing the distance between us and the sea to 12,000 feet. At 320 miles per hour, the plane was shaking like crazy; it was almost impossible to line up the bomb sight on our target. At five thousand feet, the Japanese anti-aircraft guns blazed to life. The sky around our planes exploded in a hail of lead. I jerked my plane back and forth, dodging anti aircraft fire. To my dismay, three rounds ripped into my wing and the plane started to rattle even more. I managed to hold my course behind Woodson, and at two thousand feet I dropped my two five hundred pound bombs. I watched as one of the bombs sailed wide of the ship, throwing up a huge plume of water. Smiling, I saw the other bomb slam into the flight deck of the Akagi.
I pulled out of my dive followed by Sgt. Beck. As Beck pulled out behind me, I heard two more resounding explosions. Beck’s bombs had found their target. We were ordered to stay and protect our planes that were coming in to finish the job.
I could see the outlines of the planes from TF-17 coming over the horizon, and I pushed my Wildcat down to just fifty feet above sea level, under most of the gunfire from the Akagi and her escorts. I could see smoke rising from her deck as I flew closer. I squeezed the trigger and all four of my .50 caliber machine guns blazed to life. The lead from my guns ripped through two planes sitting on the Akagi’s deck and one more that was starting its take off run. Sgt. Woodson’s voice came through on the radio. “There’s a squad of Zeros harassing our boys on their bombing runs. Climb to fifteen thousand feet and help ‘em out.”
As I turned skyward, I could see Sgt. Beck was engaged in a ferocious dogfight with two Zeke’s. “Hold on buddy, I’m coming,” I muttered. As I reached 10,000 feet, I saw the first rounds from the trailing Zero slam into Beck’s plane. Just then the second Zero joined in, both planes chasing Beck. Beck hurtled his plane towards the sea in a futile attempt to shake them off. At 9,000 feet, I swung in behind one of the Zeros and I opened fire. My bullets tore holes up the left side of his plane, the wing ripped from the body of the Zero, and it spiraled out of sight. In the midst of my dogfight, I lost sight of Beck. I looked to my four o’clock. To my horror, I saw his plane in flames and his canopy full of holes. I gunned my engine and came in behind the Zero tailing Beck and my four .50 cal’s made quick work of him. The Zero erupted in flames and the plane went spiraling downward into the sea. I picked up my radio and ordered Sgt. Beck back to the Enterprise. Meanwhile the planes from TF-17 were taking a beating; I could see the Zeros buzzing around our slower Dauntless dive bombers like angry bees. Our guys were falling out of the sky left and right.
I touched down on the Enterprise’s flight deck forty-five minutes later. I saw Beck’s wrecked plane sitting on the flight deck, and I realized the hell it had been through. It lay awkwardly–landing gear and burning metal shards littered the deck around it. The propeller was wrecked and the canopy was full of holes, I winced when I saw that the glass of the canopy was spattered with blood. I jumped from my plane and sprinted to the ship’s infirmary. Beck looked almost as bad as his plane; his left leg in a sling, his arm bandaged from where glass shards had ripped into it and his head was swathed in bandages from burns and cuts. I walked over and sat down next to him, expecting him to be unconscious. To my surprise and with great effort, he turned his head to me, “Did we get her, Sir? The Akagi, did we sink her?” he asked.
“Yeah, yeah, we did. You did good out there today Sergeant,” I replied.
“Thank you, Sir,” he said.
With that he slipped into unconsciousness. An hour later I got confirmation that the Akagi had gone down. When I told Beck about it, he smiled. I asked him if he wanted me to transfer him home.
“Nah, Sir, it’s an honor flying for you,” he replied.