Solo and Team Combat
Air tactics began to change as the battle in the Pacific intensified. Before my time it was common for three fighters to make one unit. Japanese pilots would fly in formation until the enemy came into view then would break off to assail targets individually in dogfights. The early Zero pilots were very adept at this mode of attack and used a special “twisting-in” maneuver like a corkscrew loop called “hineri-komi.” When chased by the enemy, the standard Zero tactic was to climb suddenly at maximum speed then turnover at the highest point to steal the advantage. I heard of one situation where a Zero was chasing an American fighter, with another fighter chasing that Zero, and yet another Zero chasing that fighter all in a chain. This scenario suited Japanese pilot tactics. There was always banter of who shot down how many planes and we would celebrate the feats of “Shoot Down Kings” (aces).
The situation started to worsen for us from around the Battle of New Britain (Rabaul) in 1943, especially with the introduction of the new Grumman F6F Hellcats.10 They had double the horsepower of the F4Fs and were a superior machine to our Zeros. They hunted in packs of four and avoided individual dogfights focusing instead on team battles. U.S. pilots researched our strategies thoroughly and formulated maneuvers to take advantage of our weaknesses. For example, our famous sharp-turning hineri-komi defensive ploy had one major drawback in that the Zero’s speed would drop significantly for a few seconds at the point of turnover. One of the four American fighters waiting at altitude targeted this instant and unleashed a spray of lead just as the Zero was about to plunge into the dive. If the Zero was caught in this trap, there was no way to escape.
The Japanese pilots had to adapt to keep ahead of the game, so adopted a similar four fighter team and style of combat. These changes were already being implemented by the time I started my training. We were advised against individual combat and told instead to take the initiative, making concentrated bursts in first contact. This meant that good team-work was vital. The most effective method was to fly at altitude to spot enemy aircraft in advance, then make a rapid dive toward them and shoot at the crossing point. The difference between winning and losing came down to which side detected the enemy first.
When shooting, I would press the center stick trigger with my right thumb for a few seconds. Any longer and the bullets would run out too quickly. It was often impossible to tell whose bullets hit the target but there were occasions when I knew I had hit the mark. Still, the Hellcat never let on that it was hit as its airframe had been redesigned to mitigate the impact of enemy fire. The only way to shoot one down for sure was to make a direct hit on the pilot in the cockpit.
Rainy days were spent in the classroom. We sat cross-legged and listened to lectures outlining the latest American tactics and discussions led by vets who had survived close run-ins with the improved Hellcats. To hone maneuvers in our four-fighter teams, for example, we were told where the first and second aircraft needed to fly. “When the first turns away, the third must follow behind in cover. Then, the second and the fourth which were here must fly in behind the third.…” This was all life-saving advice, but inevitably required incredible discipline and nerve under extreme pressure to execute.
Some officers were still under the false impression that Zeros were superior to Hellcats. One of them asked an instructor, “Why can’t we engage in dogfights to take advantage of the Zero’s agility?” The instructor told him plainly: “That’s impossible. It’s all just empty theory now. Go ahead if you insist, but you’ll be the first one to buy it.”
Instead, we were repeatedly told, “When you face the enemy, fly straight at him like a game of chicken. Never turn away earlier than the enemy. Go in with the intention of letting your propellers bite into his plane. This is the only way they will show their bellies, and that’s when you shoot. They don’t have strong hearts like you boys. Go for their guts.”
Sliding Maneuver
It was often commented that if two fighters with the same capability and skill engaged in combat, the victor would be the one who takes the higher position. If we found ourselves at lower altitude and needed to take evasive action, the first thing we were taught to do was accelerate into a dive. As the enemy followed, the next move was to press hard on the left pedal while pulling the center stick strongly to the right. This would make the Zero slide forward to the diagonal left. I could also do it the opposite way.
The irregular sliding movement generated air turbulence around the Zero, and in turn affected the trajectory of the enemy’s rounds. To successfully perform the sliding maneuver took considerable strength in the arms and legs, and it also induced a lot of torque on the airframe. I could hear my plane creak and was always afraid that it might fall to bits on me.
I had a habit of removing my gloves before any action to stop my hand from slipping off the controls. I also took off my headgear and placed it on my lap because it hindered neck movement and I couldn’t look around me. The most dangerous area was to the rear. I liked to assess if there was anything coming from behind. Rear-below was particularly treacherous as it was a blind spot from the cockpit. Even when I was in pursuit of an enemy aircraft I would check right, left, below and behind to make sure I wasn’t in somebody else’s sights. A surprise attack when engaging an enemy in front would not end well. We were told to watch the front 80 percent of the time, and the back 20 percent.
I could tell when the altitude was 4,000 or 5,000 meters without referring to the altimeter just by the feel to the plane. This is higher than the mightiest peak in Japan, Mount Fuji at 3,776 meters. We were advised to attach our oxygen masks over 4,000 meters, but few of us did. The mask had a long tube necklace which restricted head movement, so we usually held on until 6,000 meters. The air being so thin that high, it was hard to get enough oxygen without it. To compensate, I used to take two deep inhalations followed by one exhalation.
Earplugs were inserted on a rapid climb to protect the ears. I followed this protocol at first but gradually became accustomed to the pressure. High altitude also resulted in pain shooting through my mouth and teeth through sucking in the cold air. There was no heater, but we kept warm enough thanks to the heat of the engine and the exhaust fumes that infiltrated the cockpit.
Landing Woes
Each airbase had a 15 meter pole located in the midpoint of the runway with a streamer attached to the top to indicate the direction and strength of the wind. This was vital for making a clean landing. If the streamer was horizontal, we knew that the wind was blowing hard at about 12 to 13 meters per second. When we made unscheduled landings in different bases, streamers were often absent forcing us to wait until somebody ran out to the runway to attach one.
At bases with grass runways we identified suitable places to land by the flatness of the vegetation. If it was still long that meant it was dangerous to land on because it hadn’t been used for landing before. Fuel permitting, we’d do another pass over the base if we weren’t certain.
Paved runways with a headwind made for the best landing conditions. The Zero could make a three-point landing and come to a stop in about 150 to 200 meters. That distance increased with a tailwind. A side wind was a little tricky to cope with. The airframe caught the wind and tilted the aircraft so that one wheel touched the ground first meaning too much weight on one point. There were many incidents where planes were pushed to the side this way resulting in the wheels breaking up.
I mitigated this danger by slowing down as I came in to land and moving the rudder the moment of touching down. If the side wind was coming from the left, I would press down on the left pedal to guide the airframe to the front-left, essentially straightening up in the wind. This was a subtle operation requiring careful consideration of how much we could be blown off course and landing slightly upwind and to the side of the runway’s centerline. Landing was much more
