How Japan lost the Battle of Midway, pt. 1
Historical Background, Navy and Army politics, and Yamamoto's Ambitions
By any ordinary standard, they were hopelessly outclassed…They had no right to win. Yet they did, and in doing so, they changed the course of a war. More than that, they added a new name—Midway—to that small list that inspires men by shining example. Like Marathon, the Armada, the Marne, a few others, Midway showed that every once in a while “what must be” need not be at all. Even against the greatest of odds, there is something in the human spirit—a magic blend of skill, faith and valor—that can lift men from certain defeat to incredible victory.
So said Walter Lord in his 1967 book Midway: Incredible Victory. His work reflected popular memory about this battle. The image of outnumbered, outgunned, and less competent American pilots striking Japanese carriers that were minutes away from launching their own strikes at the US carriers can be practically tasted.
This image, this mythos, surrounding the battle has been around for a long time, likely persisting to this day. But these days, the academic consensus regards sentiment like Lord’s as suspect. Why?
The answer is a book by historians Johnathan Parshall and Anthony Tully in 2005 called Shattered Sword: The Untold Story of the Battle of Midway. This book is just one among many about the event, but its importance in revising the events and meaning of said events during the battle cannot be overstated. Indeed, I am told it is considered required reading at the US Naval War College.
This series will primarily draw from that book, essentially acting as an abridged version that focuses on the broader picture instead of all the minute details. In addition, Japanese ideas will be told without confirming or denying their truth until the Japanese themselves knew about it.
A Century of Servitude
In order to understand this defeat, the authors tell us that we must go back. Not to the beginning of 1942, not 1939, not even 1937 when the Japanese invaded China. We need to go back to the turn of the century.
The truth of Asia in the century and more prior to the Pacific War is that to be born on the continent was to be born into the control of a colonial power. Colonial administration ruled their lives in service of a power that desired low-cost resources and labor. Compounding this was the racism directed at Asians, seen by their white rulers as inferior intellectually, culturally, and morally.
However, there was one specific exception to this.
Japan.
The insular island nation had been “opened up” in 1853 for trade by America’s Commodore Perry, an act far more traumatic for the natives than is typically communicated in a textbook. Following this, a tumultuous social evolution took place, resulting in the Meiji Restoration and a new national government in 1868. The decades after were a combination of hard sacrifice and industrial planning as the nation modernized. Their rapid embrace of modern weapons was an important reason for why they were never colonized.
The results of this national effort were staggering. Within 40 years, Japan was a major regional power. Another 40 and it was a world power. This was a breathtaking development rate. It was this nation that sought to demonstrate its unwillingness to be pushed around, and in 1904, the method of doing so was to fight nearby Czarist Russia.
Ghosts of Tsushima
The Japanese were very shrewd in picking their target. They assessed Russia as the nearest, most domestically unstable, and least militarily capable opponent. This was demonstrated in the following Russo-Japanese War.
Recounting the entire war is pointless. Instead, we must focus on the one battle that brought the Russians to the negotiating table – Tsushima. At this battle, the Japanese annihilated the Russian Pacific fleet, sinking/capturing/scuttling/interring 34 out of 38 ships and killing/capturing over 10,000 sailors. The cost of this victory was three torpedo boats, 110 Japanese sailor casualties, and moderate damage to some ships.
This was a stunning result to the rest of the world. White colonizing nations had certainly been defeated on land from time to time by the natives, but never had the natives taken on and dismantled a fleet. The fact that the war had nearly bankrupted Japan and exposed the nature of its fragile industry was irrelevant, especially to the Japanese. As far as they were concerned, they had made a splash of an entrance onto the world stage, and the white nations were obligated to give them the kind of respect they gave each other.
There was another outcome of Tsushima. Namely, what the navy learned.
Naval power could be used to shape a conflict to keep it local and over local objectives.
Sea control meant winning large climactic battles, and a single decisive battle was likely to decide a war’s outcome.
Offensive considerations mattered more than defensive ones.
These were understandable conclusions. The Japanese navy at Tsushima had isolated the Korean peninsula, countered Russian activity out of Port Arthur and Vladivostok, and finally engaged in a decisive and hilariously lopsided battle when the Russian fleet appeared near the Home Islands, using superior speed and gun range to dictate the course of the battle.
As we shall see, the last two lessons would bear poisonous fruit.
Resentments Real and False
The Japanese were sorely disappointed following the war when they were still not given the respect they deserved. Add to this the very real grievances of racism and economic extraction by the white colonizers, and there was no end of fury to be stoked.
But the Japanese were not merely out to demonstrate their equality, they were out to demonstrate superiority. It is important to understand that the Japanese viewed themselves not just as an island nation’s citizenry, but the collective inheritors of one culture, one outlook, and a common heritage. The emperor was the embodiment of this group, coming from a line of emperors going back to 600 B.C.E, while the first emperor himself was a descendant of Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess.
In the decades after Tsushima and before the Pacific War, Japanese nationalism was repeatedly fed one particular promise. A promise of throwing off the white yoke as Japan demonstrated its superiority. All of Asia would be freed and it would march no longer to the demands of the colonizers, but under a Japanese aegis. “100 million hearts marching as one!” was a common exhortation.
It may sound as if the Japanese lacked total self-awareness, given that in practice, they were out to just replace the colonizers. Indeed, what transpired under Japanese control was a tragedy against Asians, Nanking one of the greatest. There was no way to square this with any claim of “liberation”, for it had been America and the other white colonizing nations who had ultimately freed Asia and the Pacific from the evils of Japanese tyranny. But to the Japanese, they were fighting an entirely just war, and those things were at most unfortunate side-effects of destroying Western colonialism.
The Imperial Japanese Navy had its own resentments atop all of this. The 1922 Washington Treaty and 1930 London Treaty governed the tonnages of the world powers, and Japan had not been given the same maximum tonnage as the US or Britain. This was seen as an insult, made worse by the Japanese estimation that the treaties didn’t even leave enough to defend the Home Islands.
The Eagle
The Japanese understood by the 1930s that their biggest rival in the Pacific was now the US. Like Czarist Russia, the US wasn’t content to stick to its own territory, given that it owned the Philippine Islands (to the south and a bit to the west of the Home Islands). Its properties dotted the Pacific Ocean in general.
Unlike Russia, the US wasn’t going to be so easily defeated. It wasn’t as unstable nor as militarily or economically weak.
America, for that matter, was the subject of a very particular animus, motivated by the long and very real mistreatment of Japanese people (immigration quotas, second-class treatment, economic/social repression in Hawaii).
Still, the Japanese were undaunted. In 1937, the Japanese invaded China with the intent to colonize it. This was unacceptable to America, which warned the Japanese to leave. When diplomatic protest failed, America slowly began applying economic pressure in the form of embargoes. Eventually, it stopped all sales of oil, scrap metal, steel, and strategic minerals to the island nation.
Naturally, the Japanese believed that the US was hobbling the nation before it could demonstrate its true potential and take its rightful place. A desire to strike back against this slow death was felt by all citizens.
What made this surprising, however, was that the Japanese public were already sick of war in China! They viewed it as a pointless conflict. But even alienated from their own domestic policy due to increasing military control, they did not mind going into another war.
Thus, in 1941, this was the situation. The public was willing to accept war with the US, the British, and the Dutch. The nation’s ideology had sway amongst its commoners and commanders alike. The navy itched to demonstrate its parity/superiority to the white powers.
Pacific War
On December 7th, 1941, Japan began the war with a surprise attack at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. At the same time or shortly thereafter, Japan struck other parts of the South and Southwest Pacific.
It was propaganda made real. Japan pounced on the Philippines, Java, Borneo, Singapore, and more. Anywhere they struck, their enemies fell or fled. Even Darwin, Australia was struck in a raid. By March of 1942, they had accomplished or were about to accomplish all their initial objectives. On land, the army was taking over Burma (now Myanmar) and would expel the British by April.
Japan was now temporary master of this part of the world and held the initiative everywhere. The white colonial powers had been expelled. The US had been bloodied at Pearl Harbor, then at the Phillippines and Java, unable to contest Japanese operations. At most, the Americans could react, or engage in hit-and-runs.
The question, therefore, was “What now?” This was fiercely debated, and it is here that one of the most important figures of the Pacific War decided that he was to have the final say.
Yamamoto
Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, commander in chief of the Combined Fleet (the navy’s primary sea-going component), was one of the most important men at this time in Japan. He was described as a brilliant commander. How he was seen in the fleet itself was less clear, but his pre-war achievements couldn’t be denied. The man was intelligent, but more importantly, very charismatic and ambitious. His taste for the finer things in life were well known, preferring to send time gambling or with geishas than his wife and children.
Yamamoto’s rise is fascinating because of how unlikely it would have been. Firstly, he supported the Washington and London treaties. Secondly, he championed naval aviation (air power launch by boats) over the big gun. Thirdly, he opposed the alliance with Nazi Germany. All three of these beliefs were at odds with the status quo within the navy.
Given that his rise must have happened despite his stances, the conclusion is that he was highly capable, but that he had a plethora of enemies. Indeed, his detractors held that he was trying to make Combined Fleet his own fief, which wasn’t necessarily wrong. It became a home for many unorthodox thinkers, but he and his followers felt at perpetual war with the Imperial General Headquarters (IGHQ) at Tokyo.
It was Yamamoto who believed that any war in the Pacific had to include the US. At the very least, it had to be dealt a strong blow to prevent its interference in Japan’s colonial adventures. He was opposed by Admiral Osami Nagano, who correctly intuited that the US would not get involved if the war was confined to the British and Dutch. The American public did not have an appetite for protecting the colonies of their European acquaintances.
Yamamoto played dirty. He threatened his and his staff’s resignations if his demands were not met. Nagano folded in response.
This was a coup, the consequence being that the navy’s strategic decision-making had been subordinated to the Combined Fleet. Yamamoto went as far as to tell the chief of Naval General Staff, “Try not to interfere too much.”
Yamamoto’s clout only grew with the perceived success of the Pearl Harbor attack. While the US carriers had been missed, this did not dampen the mood. Indeed, his star was tied to the navy’s apparent successes. As far as the public was told, he was responsible for the string of victories the navy won.
The Other Service
For all his success, Yamamoto was only powerful in his own service. The other was the army, and it was equally vital to the war effort. While the navy could certainly act on the seas, it did not possess the means to hold and garrison territory.
The relationship between the two was dreadful. For all the inter-service conflict a modern Western military may have, it doesn’t hold a candle to the hatred between the Imperial Japanese armed services. They loathed each other. While he had conflicts with Yamamoto, Nagano certainly didn’t fall asleep (or feign to) as he did during inter-service liaison conferences.
The army was loath to draw out more of its manpower, especially for anything open-ended. At this point, most of its resources and attention were mostly drawn to the Chinese quagmire. In addition, stinginess had paid off thus far, with the empire’s current holdings requiring only a fifth, or 11 regiments, to garrison. Lastly, with the Soviet Union crumpling under Nazi attacks, there may have been a chance in the future to take more of Manchuria.
Further complicating the matter was the fundamental difference in how they saw conflict with the US. The navy believed in the power of a decisive battle, the army believed it would be a protracted grind. Their desire was not to expand Japan’s holdings in the Pacific, but to instead begin fortifying the existing ones to make America pay an unacceptable price in blood, and they used their voice to make that clear in top-level planning conferences.
Strategic Options Going into 1942
There were three overall proposals for what the nation would focus on at this point in the Pacific War.
The first was to halt further expansion and begin consolidating and fortifying. At some point, you had to start making your conquered territory mean something, even if it was just to fortify against further attacks, something you couldn’t do if you were actively expanding. In addition, the navy’s ships and crews were starting to show the effects of all-out war. Letting them rest, recover, and repair was sound. Unfortunately, the man proposing this had opposed Pearl Harbor. That meant his defensive proposal (at odds with the faith in offense) received no serious consideration.
The second was to go after Australia. The vast coastline meant forces would be able to land somewhere. Conquering some or all of it would prevent use by the US to build up forces near the empire’s territory. Some efforts had already been taken for this, including the air raid on Darwin. But the army nixed this idea – it would simply take too many men and the logistical chain couldn’t handle it, they argued.
Eyes to the Center
The third proposal was to further act in the Central Pacific, promoted most forcefully by Yamamoto and his staff. They were haunted by their failure to hit the US carriers at Pearl Harbor. They reasoned that since those beasts made their lair in that port, operations near there would give the best chance to smash them once and for all. Indeed, this went as far as Yamamoto asking his subordinate, Admiral Matome Ugaki, to reassess the invasion of Hawaii only two days after the Pearl Harbor attack.
When the navy and army caught wind in January, they moved to stop it. They had one of their staff conduct a logistics study for the proposed invasion. It painted a dismal light. The island was not at all self-sufficient, requiring an estimated 60 transport loads per month, and that was without accounting for any Allied attacks. This was completely unfeasible for the merchant marine.
Yamamoto and Ugaki were forced to grit their teeth and stop their planning. But by early February, it appeared they had genuinely acquiesced. Combined Fleet invited the navy and army’s general staff to simulate war games over operations in the Indian Ocean.
At first, these seemed to go well, but they broke down when the army became suspicious. The fear was that this was all a ruse for further Pacific operations – propose an action, get army approval, then cancel it and demand the same troops for other operations. At the same time, the army was having trouble conquering Burma, having reached the end of its logistical chain.
This only left the Southwest Pacific as an acceptable zone of action. This had the support of one Admiral Inoue, commander of operations in the South Pacific. The poor man had reached a grim conclusion after two events: a US carrier’s aborted raid on Rabaul and the devastating US air attack on army transports near New Guinea. In Inoue’s eyes, the days of easy pickings were over, and he would need more than a shoestring army to defend the empire’s holdings.
Unfortunately for him, he was promised support and never got it. For even as Combined Fleet promised carrier support, those carriers were being earmarked for operations in the Central Pacific!
Yamamoto and his staff had turned their attention back to the forbidden fruit.
Why Midway?
Yamamoto’s conundrum was straightforward. He had to strike a place outside of Hawaii’s range to strike (US defenses had only skyrocketed in response to the Pearl Harbor attack), but close enough that the American carriers could get involved. Conquering the small island meant the Japanese would be able to interdict any US operations to Midway’s north and west, while having a foothold in the Hawaiian Islands themselves.
Armed with these reasons, he sent a representative to the naval headquarters, who was not prepared for the destruction he was about to receive. Three sound criticisms shook the man’s ears.
1. There would be no land-based air cover to advance under and quickly deploy new bases. American heavy bombers could reach Midway, Japan’s fighters had a much smaller range.
2. The previous logistical study stood – Japan didn’t have the ability to resupply that far a base with its existing merchant marine.
3. It was a tiny atoll that the US could and would abandon as often as needed. Oahu was the real critical point.
With tears in his eyes, the representative rotely restated Combined Fleet’s assumptions as facts. It was clear to the navy that no rational debate was to be had, and this further broke down relations with Combined Fleet.
When he was made aware of how the conference was going, Yamamoto made it clear that he was prepared to tender his and his staff’s resignations once more if his way was not had. As much as they undoubtedly hated it, the navy was even less in position to deny this tantrum, what with Nagano’s previous caving and Yamamoto’s continued perceived successes.
On April 5th, 1942, Yamamoto’s dirty tactics got him what he wanted. Nagano gave permission for the basic structure of the Midway operation, to be set in June. The approval, however, came with two requirements. The first was to conduct an invasion of the Aleutian Islands (to the southwest of Alaska). The second was to support Operation MO - the naval invasion of Port Moresby, New Guinea.
A Travesty of Planning
Planning and war-gaming for Operations AL (Aleutian Islands) and MI (Midway Island) were now underway. These efforts were unfathomably stupid and half-hearted.
The plan for Midway can be summed up as follows.
A task force consisting of all heavy carriers (six in total), two battleships, two heavy cruisers, and 11 destroyers would strike Midway on June 4th early in the morning. It was estimated that a single airstrike would neutralize the island’s airbase.
Additional airstrikes would be launched the same day and the day after to neutralize the defenses in advance of the invasion force. Any US carriers coming from Pearl Harbor were assumed to need at minimum three days to arrive. The Americans would presumably send their carriers and battleships together, meaning both hallmarks of power could be taken out in one fell swoop.
The navy’s invasion force (using naval invasion troops, not army soldiers) would land on June 5th at a nearby island to establish a seaplane base, then attack on the 7th. These troops would be supported by four heavy cruisers for fire support. A day was all the time given to capture and be made ready to support the battle with the American carriers.
Behind all of these forces was the main body for the invasion, led by one Admiral Kondo. He would provide additional fire support if Midway’s resistance was stiffer than expected.
Yamamoto would lead a force behind Kondo, consisting of multiple battleships. This would be the main attack fleet, pouncing on the Americans who would be weakened by carrier strikes.
Why separate the forces out? The Japanese believed that the Americans were a demoralized and scared force after six continuous months of loss. They would need to be coaxed into battle with a target while the Japanese carriers lay in wait. Hence, Kondo was to act as bait – not so strong as to deter aggression, but enough to tempt the enemy. Yamamoto’s big guns would not enter the battle until the enemy was found.
As for Operation AL, its details are not particularly important, save that it would involve roughly 50 ships and be carried out at the same time as Operation MI. Assuming all went according to plan, the carriers would retire to Truk while the battleships either returned home or went north to assist Operation AL.
The actual details are incredibly dizzying. About a dozen surface formations were to move according to a larger plan in coordination with very little room left for error or delays. The biggest consequence was a dearth of vessels given to ensuring the most critical part of the concurrent operations - Midway’s neutralization. Only 22 ships, a tenth of all the ships at play, were assigned to this task. Moreover, despite plans to support each other, all major surface units were simply too far from each other to do so in a timely manner.
Supporters of the Keep It Simple, Stupid principle might wonder why such a plan was made. Why had the Japanese even bothered dispersing their ships into so many groups? The answer is that this was just how operations were to be carried out. Japanese thought, like a great deal of East Asian military thinking, emphasized indirect approaches and complicated maneuvers. Yamamoto, for all his genius, did not break with this tradition, but practically built a monument to it with this plan.
Blame must also be placed on Nagano and his peers for their part in demanding the Aleutian Islands. If the American carriers and battleships were sunk, Japan could conquer the Aleutians trivially at another point. If the Japanese failed, it would be easy for the Americans to reconquer the islands. To their initial credit, they had asked for it to be after MI, but later discussion changed the plan to make Operations AL and MI concurrent.
Now, it is worth stating that combining all Midway-bound forces would not work – the Yamato in Yamamoto’s force was slower than the carriers, and its fellow battleships in the force were even slower. But there were some forces that could have been safely combined. In particular, the heavy cruisers supporting the Midway invasion could have been placed with the carriers without drastically increasing detection chances while providing additional anti-air fire and seaplane support.
Space, time, and force. These are the three things a commander must coordinate and orchestrate, but Yamamoto proved and would prove his inadequacy with all three. Firstly, the dispersal of the forces meant many ships, if not most, would be completely irrelevant during crucial moments. Secondly, the time to turn Midway from a battlefield to a seaplane base was a day at best.
This meant Yamamoto’s trump card was force. It did not matter if any setbacks or unexpected events occurred (including discovery, because all planning hinged on the Americans not detecting them) if he had six full carriers to deal with them. Even if all American carriers the Japanese believed active were present, the US would just barely match the number of planes the Japanese could put into the area.
Armed with this plan, the Japanese set about the next stage of operational planning.
Poor Sportsmanship
Wargaming is an old idea. The premise is simple – simulate a battle with a given set of forces and objectives. The purpose is simulating real-life conditions for detection, communication, and more. It is also to find and address complications and possibilities. Do it well, and you have much information to pore over regarding actual capability.
The wargames for Operation MI were not done well. Worse, it was obvious to everyone involved that efforts were just a farce as people went through the motions.
Where to begin? Perhaps with the umpire, Ugaki himself. The man consistently glossed over any issues the Japanese might face. The invitees were also given little time to prepare, meaning they couldn’t contest any basic assumptions. Pearl Harbor had been carefully planned and gamed, Midway was done with cheat codes.
Yamamoto and his staff were being completely disingenuous. During one of the games, an officer submitted a plan that had the American carriers appear before expected, during the invasion itself. The result was that the Japanese carriers were heavily damaged, rendering the invasion much harder. The table’s judge interfered at this point, deeming this impossible, and reversed the damage to the carriers to match Yamamoto’s imagination of how they would appear. In another incident, the Japanese had to deal with a land-based attack. The carriers were hit hard, but Ugaki personally reduced the damage they suffered.
Having made a thorough mess of any value the games could have provided, Yamamoto then had the gall to ask what response would be given if an unexpected air strike occurred on the carriers. He received no useful answer, only that Japanese air power was unbeatable. As the question needed some consideration, Yamamoto ultimately ordered that half the planes be reserved on the carriers in case an anti-ship strike was needed. This was a verbal order, not written, and while it might seem intuitive or understandable, it would prove fatally inadequate.
The games wrapped up, and it was a disappointment to everyone involved.
And then, Yamamoto received some very bad news.
Battle of Coral Sea
At the same time as the wargaming for Operation MI was taking place, Operation MO was underway. It was to take Port Moresby, located on the south side of New Guinea, by a sea invasion. If it was conquered, land-based aircraft would be able to threaten northern Australia.
The Japanese were very confident going into the battle. They considered sending just one carrier to the theater. This would give Inoue one heavy carrier and one light carrier. He vigorously contested this. By now, the Japanese knew there was a lot of Allied airpower in the area. One heavy and one light carrier could not hope to match the foe.
Combined Fleet relented and sent two carriers instead. Yamamoto reasoned that they couldn’t get into too much trouble, so the pair would be back in time for the Midway operation.
Fate, of course, heard this and promptly smacked Yamamoto upside the head. The world’s first carrier battle took place between May 4th and 8th in the Coral Sea, the damage notable on both sides. The Japanese lost their light carrier. One heavy carrier was hit by three bombs and had to retire from combat for months. The other was usable, but its air wing had been totally destroyed.
For this cost, the Japanese believed they had sunk the two American carriers.
Reconsider?
Yamamoto’s original plan was now untenable. Even assuming both enemy carriers were sunk, the Americans had potentially three others. A four to three match was hardly the kind of decisive numerical superiority originally planned on, in both flattops or aircraft (remember, Midway would have its own air group).
But astoundingly, there was no worry or urgency amongst the rank-and-file or the officers. The other carrier sailors considered the encounter at Coral Sea a victory, and Yamamoto didn’t call for an immediate reassessment of the plan.
Had the Japanese done a study of the lessons learned from this battle, they may have realized the following.
American carriers had a nasty habit of being where they weren’t expected to be (remember that one had attempted to strike Rabaul in February).
Just two surprise carriers had accomplished that destruction.
Splitting Japan’s carrier force put it at risk of piecemeal destruction. The light carrier that had been lost wasn’t crucial, but it had eaten enough damage to put two heavy carriers under the water.
American aviators weren’t incompetent cowards. They were more than willing to dogfight with a surprising amount of skill. The dive-bombers had good training as well, accurately dropping 1000-lb bombs.
Was this the same war as six months ago, or even a month ago? Such questions would never cross Japanese naval thought at this time.
Why, then, did the Japanese not simply postpone the operation until at least the damaged heavy carrier was fixed? Part of it was the impetus to destroy the carriers sooner rather than later. But the Earth also put them on a timetable. The plan required a full moon for the invasion to land as close as required, which meant at least a month’s delay if they pushed it back. However, the weather around the Aleutians was often bad for many months, meaning it would be impossible to strike until next year.
What about the reconstituting the unharmed carrier’s depleted air wing? Unfortunately, the navy’s organization prevented this. American air wings were considered independent of the carrier they flew on, but the Japanese viewed the ship and its planes as one unit. As a result, if either was hurt, both were withdrawn. The planes to reconstitute the air wing were certainly available, a bit of improvisation wasn’t impossible. But Yamamoto was unworried, and so, the carrier would not join the upcoming operation.
Final Days
The general effort of the Japanese was obviously dreadful even in the face of what they themselves knew or assumed at the time. This was a persistent theme even in the days before the forces themselves departed. The preparations and last-minute exercises were haphazard, to the point that even the carrier force was delayed by a day to launch.
Yamamoto didn’t budge. In a sense, he couldn’t – he rightfully pointed out that the tides were not anyone’s to control. If the carriers could not launch, they would leave one day later, but nobody else would delay their movement.
Thus, on May 27th, 1942, the carrier force set sail with its accompanying vessels. Many of its crews undoubtedly looked back at their homeland, including possibly the youngest and oldest members (16-year-old Tsuchiya Ryosaku and 57-year-old Hodate Ken).
In 10 days, this force would rest at the bottom of the ocean.
Image Sources
Midway illustration - https://www.lookandlearn.com/history-images/preview/B/B001/B001455_Battle-of-Midway-World-War-II-1942.jpg
Yamamoto portrait - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isoroku_Yamamoto#/media/File:Portrait_of_Yamamoto_Isoroku.jpg
Western Pacific Map - http://www.sunnycv.com/steve/WW2Pics6/midway-map2bg.jpg
"Recounting the entire war is pointless. Instead, we must focus on the one that brought the Russians to the negotiating table – Tsushima."
Copy editing: This may read better if you put a word after "one". Like "one battle" or "one episode".
This was an entertaining read. It's interesting to hear an account that paints Yamamoto as a fool, as he's often portrayed as a genius in most WW2 literature, but some of that is probably Rommel syndrome.
Also, if you haven't seen Montemayor's excellent videos on the battle of Midway, I'd highly recommend them: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bd8_vO5zrjo