Tell us a little about your research process for the book.

I used a wide range of primary source documents for research, ranging from Vice Admiral Kusaka Jinichi’s erudite, hand-written diaries (1942 and 1943) through to Allied technological assessments of airframes and markings. Japanese operational logs provided pilot names, mission descriptions, and accounts of operational losses, in most cases right down to ammunition expenditure. 

 

What are some of the main reasons why you think the combat record of the Zero-sen in New Guinea has been understated?

The Zero-sen’s performance throughout 1942–43 shows it held its own, almost one-on-one, even against more technologically advanced types such as the F4U and P-38. Most Western histories of the era have been written without reference to the real combat results, taking Allied claims at face value. The role and history of both the Lightning and Corsair against the Zero-sen in most Western literature are, in my view, questionable or erroneous. The Lightning’s real operational history, for example, reflects an alternative version to the accounts of its alleged combat prowess that you will find in Western histories.

However, its statistics are unflattering. A total of 939 Lightnings served in both Pacific theaters from April 1942 to May 1944. Of these, 192 were lost to combat, 37 to weather-related causes, and 171 to operational causes, leaving 539 to either proceed to the Philippines theaters, serve as trainers, or be scrapped in New Guinea. This means that a Lightning pilot in the Pacific had more chance of losing his life to an operational accident than being shot down by the enemy. Furthermore, many operational losses resulted directly from asymmetric engine-out situations, mostly take-off or landing, a problem less lethal in single-engine fighters.

 

What is your favorite fact about the A6M Zero-sen?

The Zero-sen’s ultimate quality is reflected in a USAAF 1945 test flight assessment which suggested that, post war, the type may become the “ultimate gentleman’s sports aircraft.” This was a reflection, inter alia, of its maneuverability and handling characteristics.

 

How important was it for both sides to achieve air supremacy over New Guinea?

The island’s geography meant air power was the overriding factor. Strategic projection was unattainable without it. The early part of the air war developed into a slug-fest that became almost predictable due to weather patterns and the distance between enemy airfields.

 

Tell us about one of the aviators featured in the book.

My favorite Zero-sen pilot is Flyer1c Shigejirou Murakami, 6 Kokutai’s first combat loss in the South Seas theater. Murakami completed pilot training at Oita in November 1941 as part of a program that was accelerated so that fledgling pilots would be available for deployment by the start of the impending Pacific war. The details of his loss reflect the Pacific’s remote geography and circumstances. In a nutshell, Murakami was forced to ditch his Zero after incurring battle damage and getting lost on the way back to Rabaul from Guadalcanal. He had no idea where he was and eventually washed up on a small island.

I have a copy of the detailed diary Murakami wrote over the following few weeks. It tells of how, by communicating with hand gestures, Murakami introduced himself to the islanders as a citizen of the Japanese Empire, and gathered that they were delighted to learn of his statehood. He was astonished to find that he was on Gawa Island, some 282 nautical miles south of Rabaul. Murakami could not sit out the war there, so his only option was to leave and find his way back to Rabaul by any means possible. This ended badly for him.

In the final days of his adventure, two canoes were built to get him and his escorting locals to Kitava Island. Not without a sense of humor, Murakami carved on the bow ‘大日本村上丸’ (‘Dai Nippon Murakami Maru’ – meaning ‘the Japanese Empire Ship Murakami Maru’). He took the naïve view that the locals’ insistence on delaying his departure was due to an affection they had developed for him. The real reason was that they needed more time to get word to Australian authorities of his presence. He used the delay to impart further nationalistic sentiment:

I assembled the villagers and explained that Japan would establish a new empire in East Asia, a goal it would attain with devotion. They listened with engrossed attention.

 This was Murakami’s last diary entry. On the morning of 9 October 1942, Australian soldiers, intent on capturing a valuable POW, killed him when he resisted arrest. Villagers buried him in a grave on Kitava Island that survives to this day.

 

You can find out more in DOG 10 A6M2/3 Zero-sen: New Guinea and the Solomons 1942