become the real thing at a moment’s notice. We were ready. Our senses had been honed and some of our men had already seen combat, even boasting of shots that had found their mark. We were all brimming with confidence, at the beginning.…
The completion of a training mission was signaled by the lead plane rocking its wings. One of our planes once veered away to fly under a suspended bridge in a river valley. I mischievously followed suit, and so did the rest of the fighters in our section. Another time we flew close to the river surface causing fishing boats to capsize. We were all aged only 17 to 19 after all. Just teenage lads wanting to have a bit of fun. Rowdy behavior took the edge off our volatile situation.
Taiwan was a bountiful place, and there was always a big basket full of bananas and citrus fruits located at the front of the barracks. Our three daily meals were excellent, just as they were in Kasanohara. The mess staff cooked our meals and took care of menial tasks such as washing the dishes. We often slept outside on the grass protected by a smoldering pyrethrum coil which kept the mosquitos in check. In August and September, the soft breeze at night made it more comfortable than sleeping inside the stifling barracks.
Escorting Convoys
With training concluded, my debut sortie was to the Xiamen channel between mainland China and Taiwan. We were to escort supply ships in what was going to be our first real opportunity to test the fruits of our hard training. We were fired up and determined to deal to any enemy planes unlucky enough to cross us.
We didn’t know why the fleet was headed to Xiamen but assumed that the Army was preparing to transfer military units from northeast Manchuria to the south. The fleet headed from the Yellow Sea (located between mainland China and the Korean Peninsula) to the north of Taiwan. The Yellow Sea was relatively stable at the time, but the area surrounding Taiwan was becoming increasingly perilous. Japan had already defeated the Chinese Nationalist Air Force by this stage, so the odds of being intercepted by Chinese fighters were low. Moreover, no U.S. or British fighters had been spotted west of the line between Okinawa and Taiwan. Still, we didn’t want to take the Chinese factor for granted. Should they appear, we had no idea what they would be flying. It could be American or Soviet Union-built aircraft, and we had no clue whatsoever about the latter. This element of the unknown kept us edgy and vigilant.
The weather was fine, and visibility was good. We could see scores of ships in convoy heading to the East China Sea via the Taiwan Strait. We flew over them in two formations comprised of eight Zeros each. We circled at around 5,000 meters altitude as the ships cut through the blue sea below. Each escort mission lasted about two hours. When one team finished they would “rock” their wings for the other to take over. Once, I took my aircraft down to about 200 meters to make a pass over some of the ships. The sailors on deck waved up at me. I felt a strong responsibility to keep them from harm’s way. As it turns out we didn’t encounter any enemy planes on our debut mission.
The B-24s
Taiwan remained calm for a while after we arrived, but we kept an eye on what was happening in the east. The first enemy airplane that we saw, however, flew in from the west. It was a giant B-24 Liberator (see photos). I heard later that they raided Taiwan a few times before we arrived there. The B-24s flew at approximately 6,000 or 7,000 meters as they dropped their payloads on our facilities and then headed westward to their bases. We assumed that they came from Chongqing deep in the west of China. They were certainly capable of traveling great distances.
When news came through from our Army stationed in China that four B-24s were en route to Taiwan we scrambled to intercept. I chased one B-24 at high attitude on its return journey. No matter how much I accelerated I could not close the distance. A little more, a little more.… I kept the pursuit going until noticing that I had almost flown as far as mainland China. I had to give up the pursuit as my fuel was running out.
The B-24s were much bigger than we imagined. We knew that they had four propellers and a wingspan of 34 meters, but they took our breath away when we saw them for real. The airframe was sturdy and covered in duralumin plate. They were completely different to the “Mitsubishi G4M Type-1 Attack Bomber” (Allied reporting name “Betty”) which was the biggest plane in the Imperial Japanese Navy. Our planes were smaller and painted a drab grey color. We almost felt cheated.
Another time I intercepted a B-24 and fired into its fuselage. I was sure that my bullets hit home but to my utter surprise the bomber flew away as if nothing happened. I learned later that B-24s were protected by thick resin “armor” around the fuel tanks. We were advised that shooting at B-24s was virtually futile. Even so, whenever we had drinks in the barracks we discussed how to shoot down these giants. Somebody observed, “Their machine gun turrets spin around like this, so it’s useless hitting them from this direction. The best way must be to shoot underneath from the rear of the fuselage.…” Another pilot mentioned, “Wait for it from a higher position in front, fire at it as you dive and then fly under the fuselage to attack on the turnaround.…” These strategies were easier said than done. I was never able to get myself in a position to try them out.
The B-29 bombers (see photos) were bigger than the B-24s and superior in performance. These beasts also ventured into our skies on occasion but wouldn’t hang around long. I assumed that they were on recon missions taking aerial photos of Taiwan before returning to base in China. They flew higher and faster than B-24s. We tried to intercept them, but it took too long for Zeros to reach 8,000 or 9,000 meters. At 6,000 meters I would have to put on an oxygen mask while climbing at full throttle, but the propeller would spin meaninglessly at this altitude because the air was too thin. The speedometer needle fluttered near the bottom of the dial and we’d burn through the fuel. The B-29s soon disappeared above us so we no chance to engage them.
We never heard of any B-24s or B-29s being shot down around Taiwan. We were uneasy that Japan’s leaders were not developing better planes to match these airborne fortresses. It was all we could do to take off and save our planes when they came to bomb our bases. We attempted to engage if they came within a feasible range, but they mostly flew high in the sky leaving us as helpless spectators while they wreaked havoc on our airfields.
The Zero
The Zero was designed by Mitsubishi Heavy Industry and Nakajima Aircraft Company as a carrier-based fighter for the Navy. It debuted in 1940. According to the “Imperial Calendar” in use in Japan at the time, this was the 2,600th year of the founding of Japan, so the Zero was named after the last numeral of this year. The Zero proved itself to be a highly capable fighter plane in the air battles over China, and it featured prominently in the Pacific from December 1941. Greatly respected by the enemy, it remained Japan’s most famous fighter to the end of war. Over 10,400 were produced with ten modified variants. By the end of the war, it was altered again to carry bombs in Kamikaze suicide missions.
The first mass-produced Zero was the Model 21. Its maximum speed was 533km/h, and had a cruising distance of up to 2,530km. It was powered by a 1,000 horsepower engine and was armed with two 7.7mm and two 20mm machine guns. Compared with fighters of other countries, the Zero’s cruising distance was relatively good, it had excellent turning ability, and daunting attacking capacity. These capabilities were enabled by a total weight of only 2.4 tons, almost 1 ton lighter than the Grumman F4F Wildcat (see photos). It was half the weight of the later Grumman F6F Hellcat. Its light weight, however, was only possible through compromises. Its defensive ability and the strength of the airframe was sacrificed making the Zero prone to catching fire when hit. There was no plating to protect the pilot, and if it dived at a velocity of 63040km/h, there was a very real danger of the plane disintegrating in mid-air.
Japan failed to develop a viable successor to the Zero, relying on minor tweaks here and there to bolster firepower. This led to gradual increases in weight which in turn decreased its turning ability. By contrast, U.S. fighter capabilities improved significantly
