They Banned His 50-Foot “Suicide Run” — Until It Destroyed 8 Japanese Ships in 15 Minutes

At 06:30 on the morning of March 1, 1943, Major Ed Lner stood on a rain-soaked coral runway in Port Moresby, watching his B-25 Mitchell bomber crews prepare for a mission that command had already declared impossible.  31 years, 72 combat missions, zero ships sunk.  The Japanese dispatched eight troop transport ships and eight destroyers from Rabaul, carrying nearly 7,000 soldiers to reinforce the garrison at Lae.

American intelligence intercepted information about the convoy’s departure.  Every transport that reached Lae meant a new division that the Allies would have to drive out of the jungle at the cost of blood. Lner’s problem was simple. Traditional bombing from 10,000 feet gave the ships too much time to maneuver.

  Japanese captains saw American bombers gaining altitude, calculated the trajectory of the bombs, and diverted their ships away from the drop sites. B-17 bombers of the Fifth Air Force attempted to attack Japanese convoys for 8 months. Hit rate—3%.  Most of the bombs exploded harmlessly in the empty ocean as the ship continued moving.

Math was brutal.  A 1,000-pound bomb dropped from a height took 37 seconds to reach the water.  In those 37 seconds, the destroyer, traveling at 30 knots , covered 380 yards— more than three football fields.  The bomber aimed for where the ship was.  The bomb hit where the ship had just been. Lner saw this happen mission after mission.

The bombers returned with perfect photographs showing dense explosion trails around the ships. Around them, but never on them. Crews reported direct hits that turned out to be misses.  The Japanese continued to sail. American bomber losses were constantly increasing.  Over the past month, his squadron has lost four aircraft trying to attack convoys.

  40 men.  The Japanese shot down high-altitude bombers with methodical precision. Their gunners managed to track the approach, calculate the lead, and bring the group into the “pincer” of anti-aircraft fire.  By the time the bombs were dropped, half of the squadron was already on fire.  General George Kenney, commander of the Fifth Air Force, proposed something that seemed crazy to every pilot who heard it.

  Drop a bomb on the water like a flat pebble. Fly at a height of 50 feet.  Drop a bomb 300 yards away with a 5 second detonator delay.  Let inertia direct it into the side of the ship. The bomb would bounce once, maybe twice, and then detonate on contact or just below the waterline. Theorists said it would work.

  The pilots said it was suicide. Flying a twin-engine bomber 50 feet above the ocean waves, right into a ship blazing with anti-aircraft guns, went against all the survival instincts Lner had developed.    The Japanese destroyers were armed with 127- millimeter guns, 25- millimeter automatic guns, and dozens of lighter weapons.

  Each of them could easily accompany a bomber at that altitude.  One well-aimed hit to the engine and the B-25 would have flipped over into the sea before the crew could blink.  Higher command twice forbade this tactic.  Too dangerous, too experimental, untested. Lner’s request to practice bounce bombing was rejected in December, and then again in January.

    The official response called it reckless disregard for equipment and personnel. Flight crews were to focus on proven high-altitude tactics.  But high- altitude tactics didn’t sink ships.  If you want to know how Lner’s experiment with jumping bombs ended, click the ” like” button.  This helps us share forgotten stories of the Pacific War.

Subscribe if you haven’t already .    Let ‘s go back to Lner. Lner went into the operations tent and spread out the reconnaissance photos on the planning table.    The Japanese convoy was spotted at dawn as it headed southeast across the Bismarck Sea.  Eight large transports in two columns, destroyers covering the flanks.

  Every ship was packed with soldiers, artillery, and ammunition.  If these transports had reached Lae, the war in New Guinea would have lasted another year.  He had an idea that would either justify Kenny’s belief in low-altitude attacks or result in the deaths of 60 American aircrews by lunchtime.    The convoy was supposed to pass within the affected area at 09:00.

  3 hours to prepare, 3 hours to teach pilots to fly like they’ve never flown before.  Lner summoned the squadron commanders to the tent and outlined a plan that they were forbidden to implement.  The B-25 Mitchell was not designed for what Lner requested. The bomber was designed to attack targets from medium altitude using horizontal bombing.

  Its twin Wright Cyclone engines could accelerate it to 300 miles per hour in level flight.  But this speed meant nothing if the Japanese warplanes had 30 seconds to track the approach. Kenny’s modification changed everything. Fifth Air Force mechanics dismantled the bombardier’s position in the bow and installed eight .

50-caliber machine guns facing forward.  Four in the nose, four in blisters on the sides of the fuselage.  The B-25 became a flying fire platform that could fire 200 rounds per second at a target.  The theory was simple.  Suppress the ship’s anti-aircraft guns with machine gun fire during the approach.  Give the troublemakers a reason to duck.

  Force them to choose between returning fire and survival.  Lner watched mechanics bolt guns to his planes three weeks ago. The modification added 1,200 pounds.  She shifted her center of gravity forward.  This turned his bomber into something between an attack aircraft and a naval fighter .  To something that never existed before.

Training flights were conducted in secret.  Kenny found a wreck called the “Prut,” a 4,700- ton steamer that ran aground on Nater Reef near Port Moresby in 1924.    The rusty hull lay half submerged in the water—a perfect target.  Kenny’s crews conducted training sorties at dawn and dusk, when visibility was poor and observers were few.

  They learned to glide over the crests of waves at speeds of 270 miles per hour.  They were learning to calculate the time to drop the bomb.  They learned what happens when you make a mistake. Lieutenant Jake Fossett made a mistake on February 16th.  He went too high: 70 feet instead of 50. The bomb bounced twice, flew through the hull, and exploded 300 yards away.

Fossett’s bombardier, Sergeant Mike Russo, recounted the data. Lower, faster, closer to the drop point.  During the next event, Fossett walked at a height of 45 feet.  The bomb bounced once and hit the side of the hull just below the waterline.  Right where the artillery cellar would be, where one bomb could detonate a thousand tons of ammunition and tear a destroyer in half.

  But the corps did not return fire .  Kenny spread the reconnaissance photos on the briefing table and pointed to the main transport: 800 feet long, 10,000 tons displacing, capable of carrying 1,500 soldiers—the flagship of the convoy.  Every officer in the tent understood what was at stake. Japanese reinforcements turned Buna into a six-month nightmare that cost the Allies 5,000 lives.

    It will be even worse in Leia if these transports are unloaded. The mathematics of jump bombing demanded a precision that most crews had not attempted before.  The approach height is 50 feet above the water. Approach speed—270 miles per hour. Drop point—300 yards from target.  The bomb trajectory angle is 8 degrees. Detonator delay—5 seconds.

Miss even one parameter and the bomb will either fly over the ship, explode before it reaches the target, or fall into the water at the wrong angle and sink without exploding. Kenny assigned each pilot a specific target— transports one through eight.  Destroyers as secondary targets if the transports were already burning.

  No bomber was to attack the same ship twice. Maximum efficiency, maximum destruction.  One event, one bomb, one chance.  The crews headed to their planes at 07:00.  54 people in nine B-25s. Behind them, 13 Royal Australian Air Force Beaufighters were to fire on the convoy first to suppress anti-aircraft fire.

  Above them, 16 B-17 Flying Fortresses were to bomb from above , forcing the Japanese ships to maneuver and disrupting their formation.  P-38 Lightning fighters were to distract the Japanese Zeros at high altitude, but the decisive blow was to be delivered by nine Kenny bombers from an altitude of 50 feet.  He boarded his plane at 07:15.

  His co-pilot, Lieutenant Tom Benz, was already checking the pre-flight checklist.  The bombardier, Staff Sergeant Carl Walls, was checking the bomb-dropping mechanism for the fourth time.  No one said a word.    The entire crew flew together for 9 months.  They knew what a 50- foot approach meant.  They knew the chances.

  Lehner started the left engine, then the right.  The right- wing Cyclones seized the opportunity and switched to their usual rumble.  Around him, eight more B-25s were preparing for takeoff. The formation was to take off in groups of three aircraft. Lehner’s group is first. Stay low above the water the whole way. Japanese radars could not track planes below 100 feet.

Suddenness was their only advantage.  At 07:45 Lehner released the brakes and began accelerating.  At 09:30 he will find out whether Kenny’s theory worked or whether he was simply leading the squadron to slaughter.  The flight to the Bismarck Sea lasted 90 minutes.  Lehner kept the formation 30 feet above the ocean, so low that wave spray sometimes hit the windshield.

  The B-25s flew in a loose V- shaped formation. Each plane is 200 yards away. Close enough to maintain eye contact.    Far enough away that one anti-aircraft volley wouldn’t shoot down two bombers. Radio silence. The Japanese monitored every frequency.  One transmission, and the convoy learns that American bombers are approaching.

  Suddenness was more important than coordination.  Lehner looked at his watch.  08:30.  The convoy should be 60 miles northeast, traveling 12 knots toward the strait. Right on schedule, according to the morning intelligence report, the ocean below was empty.  No white crests of waves, no patrol boats, just endless blue water to the horizon.

  At that altitude, Lehner could not see further than 5 miles.    The convoy could be anywhere .  His navigation had to be flawless.  5 degrees off and they will miss the target completely.  Approach the convoy at the wrong angle, and the destroyers will have time to deploy their main guns.  At 08:52, Lehner noticed smoke on the horizon.

  Black diesel smoke from 16 ships marching in formation.  He pressed the laryngophone once.  He clicked the signal to the Titan formation.  The leads confirmed with single clicks. Radio discipline is observed.  The convoy loomed as they approached.  Two columns of transports, four ships in each.  The destroyers formed a protective screen two miles ahead and on both flanks.

  Lehner listed the gun positions on the nearest destroyer. Six main towers, dozens of smaller guns.  Every gun will track its approach as soon as they appear over the horizon.  At 08:57, the fighters went on the attack.  Lehner watched from three miles as 13 Australian aircraft swooped down on the convoy from the northeast. Their 20mm guns pierced the destroyers’ decks.

  Tracers drew arcs over the water.  Japanese anti-aircraft guns turned towards the new threat.  Exactly as planned.    The fighter jets were not there to sink ships. They were there to make the gunners look the wrong way. In 30 seconds, the B7 arrived at an altitude of 10,000 feet. Lerner saw the bomb hatches open.  Bombs rained down on the convoy.

    The Japanese ships began evasive maneuvers, turning sharply to port and starboard.  The columns crumbled. The distance has increased.  The destroyers accelerated to full speed, with white water foam behind them.  Chaos. Ideally.  Lerner dropped the revs and descended to 40 feet. His speed dropped to 260 miles per hour. Volz, his scorer, was calling out the distance.

4,000 yards, 3,800, 3,600. Every ship in the convoy was now clearly visible.  Lerner chose a target: the second transport in the left column, 700 feet long, sitting deep in the water, fully loaded.  His bomb will hit right in the center, where the cubicles were packed with soldiers.  The destroyer on the left flank spotted them.

  Lerner saw flashes of gunfire.  The first shells passed in an arc towards its formation.  Too high. Japanese gunners were accustomed to tracking bombers at altitude.  They haven’t yet adapted to the 50-foot sunset .  At a distance of 2,000 yards, Lerner opened fire. All eight machine guns roared. Tracer bullets passed through the superstructure of the transport .

  The glass shattered into pieces.  The metal sparked. People on deck were falling or seeking cover.    The fire suppression worked.  The anti-aircraft guns could not return fire while bullets tore through their positions at a rate of 800 rounds per minute.  1200 yards. Lerner’s famous planes flew apart.  Each bomber lined up for its target.

  The formation was falling apart as planned.  Nine bombers attacked nine ships simultaneously.    There was no time for the defenders to transfer fire.  There was no time to coordinate a response.  800 yards.    The destroyer’s main guns fired again.  This time, the shells surrounded Lerner’s group. Left, right.    Close enough to shake the plane from the blast wave.

Shrapnel rattled on the fuselage.  Ben, the co-pilot, shouted : “Damage.”  The oil pressure in the left engine is dropping.  So far, within normal limits.  600 yards.  Traffic filled Lerner’s windshield.  He saw soldiers on the deck, running for cover.  He saw the windows of the bridge, saw the gun crews aiming their weapons at him.

  Every instinct screamed to climb up, gain altitude , escape the wall of steel rushing towards us at an approaching speed of 300 miles per hour.  400 yards.  Volz’s voice cut through the roar of the engines.  A bomb on the firing pin, ready to be dropped.  300 yards.  Lerner pressed the bomb drop button.  He felt the plane jump up as 1,000 pounds flew down.

  The bomb flew forward by inertia. She hit the water with her nose, jumped up like a flat stone, and headed for the side of the transport.  The liner sharply pulled the rudder towards itself and began to climb.  A 5- second detonator was counting down the time. The bomb exploded at the waterline.  The liner did not see the explosion.

  He was rapidly gaining altitude, there was only the sky in front of his eyes , but he could feel it.    The shockwave hit the plane like a physical hammer, flipping the tail up and throwing the B-25 sideways.  Ben struggled with the controls. The altimeter showed 100 feet, 200, 300. The liner risked looking back. The vehicle split in half.

    A column of fire and black smoke erupted from the center of the ship.  The hull bent.  The metal groaned.  Secondary explosions swept through the superstructure as ammunition stores detonated. The ship tilted to the port side, already taking on water through a giant hole in the side.  The soldiers jumped overboard. Dozens of tiny figures were leaving the doomed ship.

  One bomb, 15 seconds from drop to catastrophic damage.  The ” skip bombing” method worked.  To the right of the Liner, Lieutenant Jake Fawcett’s bomber was coming out of its attack.  Another transport was on fire, flames engulfing its foremast.    On the left, Captain Bill Haze has just dropped a bomb on a destroyer. The bomb bounced twice and hit under the aft turret.

    The destroyer’s stern rose out of the water from an internal explosion. When he fell back into the water, the entire back third of the ship was gone.  The destroyer began to settle stern-down and sink rapidly. Four targets hit in the first 90 seconds.    The Japanese convoy was in chaos, but the defenders were adapting.

    The destroyer on the far flank turned to meet the bombers. His main guns opened rapid fire.  Shells were falling across the water in the direction of Lieutenant Tom Mitchell’s B-25.  The first shell flew 50 yards, the second 20. The third hit. Mitchell’s plane fell apart. The bomb under the fuselage detonated on impact.

  The explosion instantly turned the bomber into steam.  No parachutes, no survivors.  Five men disappeared in an instant.  The liner watched as the debris scattered across the water.  There was no time to realize it.  There was no time to be sad. The attack continued.  The remaining B -25s continued their raids.  Lieutenant Carl Johnson boarded the main transport, the flagship of the convoy.

  His event was exemplary.  50 feet, 270 miles per hour, machine guns firing continuously .  The Japanese crew fired back with everything they had.  20mm cannons, heavy machine guns, even rifles.  The air between Johnson’s bomber and the transport was thick with tracer bullets. Johnson’s bomb hit perfectly.  She jumped up on the water once and hit the side of the transport right in front of the bridge.

    The time-delayed detonator gave her time to sink into the ship before exploding.  The explosion tore apart three decks. Flames burst from the cargo holds. Lehr knew what was in those holds. Ammunition, artillery shells, fuel barrels.  Transportation has become hell.  People on deck were burning, jumping into the sea, leaving smoke in their wake.

Lieutenant Paul Warren’s bomber was hit during approach.  The Japanese gunner on one of the destroyers finally adapted to low-altitude attacks .  20mm shells pierced Warren’s left wing. Fuel was gushing from the punctured tank. Warren stayed the course.  300 yards.  200. At a distance of 150 yards he dropped a bomb.

  The bomb bounced and hit the transport below the waterline.  Warren turned sharply to the right, leaving a trail of fire behind him.  His co -pilot, Lieutenant Dave Miller, was already activating the fire suppression system. The flame went out. The bomber continued to fly, barely holding on. Six transports were burning or sinking.

Two destroyers damaged, one B-25 lost.  The attack lasted four minutes.  The second wave was approaching. Nine more B-25s from the 90th Bomb Squadron under the command of Major Ralph Chell.  They watched Lehr’s attack from a distance of 5 miles.  They knew the tactic worked.  They knew the price.

  The Chel formation dispersed, each crew choosing a target among the ships still afloat. This time the Japanese were ready.  Every gun in the convoy aimed low.    The destroyers lined up in a defensive line, their main guns firing in coordinated volleys. The ocean exploded with the explosions of shells. The barrage fire was dense, deadly, and calculated.

  The Japanese learned from the first attack, they will make the Americans pay for the second.    The Chela bomber came in from the east, directly from the sun. Reasonably.  The Japanese gunners were almost blinded, firing into the shadows. His bomb hit the transport, which was already leaning.  The explosion accelerated the flooding .

  The ship capsized and went under water in less than 2 minutes.  1,200 soldiers went to the bottom with him.  Lieutenant Harold Jensen was less fortunate.  His angle of attack was wrong.  Too flat, too fast.  His bomb bounced three times, flew over the target destroyer, and detonated safely outside the convoy. Jensen lifted the plane and turned around for another approach.

    The Japanese destroyer he missed accompanied him throughout the turn. When Jensen went out to the second exit, the destroyer was already waiting. The first shell tore off its left engine.  The second hit the cockpit.  Jensen’s B-25 flipped over and crashed into the sea at 300 miles per hour.  No explosion, just a blow. The ocean swallowed the plane and continued its movement.

Two bombers were shot down.  Seven transport ships sink, three destroyers are damaged .  The battle had been going on for eight minutes, and Lner realized with icy clarity that the Japanese still had 60 Zero fighters somewhere above the clouds.  The Zeros appeared at 09:15 .  Eighteen of them dived from 12,000 feet.

  Lner saw them through the torn clouds: silvery silhouettes falling on the bombers like hawks on mice .  The P-38 Lightnings were supposed to distract them .  Something went wrong.  Either there were fewer Lightnings, or the Japanese threw a second group of fighters into the battle, which no one knew about.  Lner’s B-25 was vulnerable.

Low fuel, low ammunition.  The nose machine guns probably had 200 rounds of ammunition left . Not enough for a long air battle. Not enough to deter the determined Zero pilot, who had learned to respect American bombers the hard way.  He pressed the throttle and dived to the height of the wave crests.  20 feet.

  The propellers kicked up spray of salt water.  “Zero” divided into two groups.  Half remained aloft to engage the P-38s.    The remaining nine rushed after the bombers. They approached rapidly, at speeds of 400 miles per hour, opening fire with 20- mm guns from a distance of 1,000 yards.  Lner saw tracer bullets fly past his cockpit.

  Too close.  He turned sharply left, then right, becoming a difficult target.  Behind him, Staff Sergeant Tommy Blake in the upper turret was firing short, aimed bursts at the nearest Zero .  The Japanese fighter turned away. Not damaged, just careful. Lieutenant Warren’s damaged bomber was less fortunate.  One “Zero” got on his tail and wouldn’t let go.

Warren tried every evasive maneuver he knew. Climbs, dives, steep turns that overloaded the damaged wing. Nothing helped.    The Zero pilot was a master.  He waited patiently for Warren to slow down on the sharp turn, then gave a two-second turn. Warren’s right engine exploded. The bomber flipped over on its nose and fell into the ocean.

Lner saw three parachutes, three out of five .  Better than nothing.  The Zeros continued their attack for 6 minutes.  Then they suddenly turned and walked uphill.  Lner couldn’t understand why until he saw the reason.  The B-17s were returning for a second approach at 10,000 feet. I had to choose “Zero” .  Attack bombers from below or protect the convoy from above.

  They chose from above.  The heavy bombers were a greater threat to what was left of the convoy.  Lner used the respite to assess the damage. Its left engine was malfunctioning.    The oil pressure fluctuated, the fuel gauge showed 60%. Maybe enough to get back to Port Moresby.  He took one last look at the convoy.  Eight transport ships were hit.

  Seven of them were sinking or had already sunk.  The eighth was burning but still afloat, trying to reach the coast of New Britain.  All four destroyers in the covering line were damaged.  Two of them lost their way.  The other two circled around the burning transports , trying to pick up survivors. The Battle of the Bismarck Sea is not over yet.

It was 09:21.  The initial attack lasted 11 minutes, but the killings would continue for another three days.  American bombers will return every 6 hours. Torpedo boats will hunt for survivors in lifeboats. The Japanese sent 7,000 troops to this convoy .  Fewer than 1,200 of them will reach Lae.

  The rest will drown, burn, or die from the heat under the tropical sun. Lehner headed home.  Its formation was scattered over 30 miles of ocean.  The loss of four bombers was confirmed, with 20 people killed or missing.  But the mission was successful.  The jump bombing method proved its effectiveness in the most brutal way .

  The equipment will be improved, standardized, and taught to every squadron in the Pacific.  For 6 months, Japanese commanders would abandon attempts to move large convoys within range of Allied aircraft.  The supply line to their forward bases will be cut off.  The tide of war will change.  But Lehner didn’t know about this yet .

  All he knew was that the fuel level was dropping, the engine was failing, and Port Moresby was a 90-minute flight away.  He ordered the crew to drop everything non-essential. Ammunition, guns that they couldn’t use, tools, spare parts—everything to reduce weight.  The B-25 had difficulty maintaining altitude with one engine running.

  At 01:00 Ben spotted land—the southern coast of New Guinea.  They were on course, just barely.  The left engine was now shuddering, oil leaking from a crack in the hull. The temperature rose to the red mark. Five more minutes and he will stop for good .  Lehner shut down the left engine propeller and transferred all power to the right.

The bomber slowed to 180 miles per hour, just above stall speed, just enough to stay in the air. The coast was approaching.  40 miles, 30 , 20. The engine held up. Lehner landed in Port Moresby at 11:17.    The runway was filled with ground crews, mechanics, and intelligence officers. Rumors have already spread. The convoy suffered heavy losses.

  No one knew how heavy. Lehner turned off the engines and sat in the cockpit for 30 seconds, his hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel.  Ten was silent next to him.  None of them moved. They flew for 3 hours and 42 minutes.  It seemed like 3 days.  The mission report lasted 2 hours. Lerner and his surviving pilots sat in the operations tent while intelligence officers asked the same questions in different ways.

  How many ships were hit? How much is it sinking?  How many bombs were dropped?  How many planes were lost? The officers were piecing together a picture from fragmentary data.  Nine pilots carried out the attack.  Five returned.  Mitchell died.  Jensen died.  Warren in the water.  His crew picked up the flying boat “Catalina”.

Two wounded.    The reconnaissance photos were received at 1:00 p.m.    The Australian Beaufort photographed the convoy from 15,000 feet at noon.  The pictures told a story that Lerner’s crew couldn’t.  Eight transports, seven confirmed sunk or sinking. The eighth washed up on the shore of New Britain, burning;  four destroyers, two sunk, two seriously damaged and retreating to Rabaul.

  The total time from the first attack to the last ship sunk was 3 hours.  General Kenny arrived in Port Moresby at 4:00 p.m.  He went straight to the operations tent and spread out the reconnaissance photos on the briefing table.  He didn’t greet anyone, didn’t shake hands.  He pointed to the burning transport washed ashore and said, ” Finish it off.

” Australian Beaufighters will make another sortie at dusk.  Nothing could reach Lae. Nothing.  The second strike was struck at 5:30 p.m. Lerner didn’t fly.  His bomber needed a new engine.  Instead, he stood on the runway and watched nine new B-25s take off into the sunset.  They will be over the target at dusk. Japanese survivors will try to salvage what they can from the beached transport.

They will not expect a new attack.  They will be wrong.    The strike group returned at 8:00 p.m. The transport that had been washed ashore was no longer there; it had sunk on a shallow bank.  Two damaged destroyers were intercepted while attempting to retreat, both hit, both sinking.  The Japanese began this operation with 16 ships.

  By the night of March 2, 14 of them lay at the bottom of the Bismarck Sea.  The two remaining destroyers, barely keeping afloat, crawled to Rabaul at midnight.  The human toll was catastrophic.  7,000 Japanese soldiers set out from Rabaul. Reconnaissance flights over the next 2 days counted approximately 900 survivors who reached the coast of New Britain in lifeboats or by swimming.

American torpedo boats intercepted most of the lifeboats. Some survivors were rescued.  Others were killed in the water.  The line between battle and massacre blurred over these three days.  The command ordered not to take prisoners.  The Japanese machine-gunned American crews and paratroopers. The Americans responded with the same soldiers and lifeboats.

Lerner found out about it 3 days later.  He didn’t ask about the details.  No one wanted to know which torpedo boat crews were firing at the lifeboats, which bomber crews were firing at those who were swimming to shore. War had rules until they didn’t. The rules ceased to apply somewhere between the destruction of the Mitchell bomber and the sinking of the last Japanese transport.

Nobody talked about this .  This was not written about in the combat reports.  But it happened anyway.    The final tallies were received on March 7. Japanese losses: eight transport ships sunk, four destroyers. Approximately 3,000 soldiers drowned.  Another 1,500 died from air attacks.  1,200 reached overland through the jungle.

  They arrived without weapons, without supplies, without any organization.  They became incapable of fighting.    The reinforcement operation failed completely .  American losses : four B-25s, one B-17, two P-38s;  13 crew members were killed and six were injured. Against an entire Japanese convoy, the ratio of casualties was absurdly one-sided.

The bombing from a low-flying flight worked, but only because Larner’s crews were prepared to fly directly at the destroyer at an altitude of 15 meters while anti-aircraft fire turned the air to metal. Courage alone was not enough.  It was closer to madness. Kenney called it the most decisive air-sea battle of the Pacific War.

Admiral Yamamoto called it a disaster.    The Japanese Navy immediately canceled all further major convoy operations within range of Allied aircraft.    The supply line to New Guinea was cut. The garrisons in Lae, Salamaua, and Madanga had to survive on what they had.  They wouldn’t last long.  But the Battle of the Bismarck Sea changed more than just Japanese strategy.

It changed the approach of all air forces in the world to attacks on ships.  The Americans perfected bombing from a hovering flight. The British borrowed it.    The Soviet Union copied it.  By 1944, low-altitude bombing had become standard doctrine for naval strike aircraft worldwide.  Larner flew 16 more missions before returning home in May.

  He never spoke publicly about the battle, gave interviews, or wrote memoirs.  He did what was necessary. That was enough. The question that no one could answer was simple.  Would this tactic work against a prepared enemy?  The Japanese tested this issue three months later.  On June 3, 1943, American intelligence spotted the formation of another convoy at Rabaul.

Six transport ships, eight destroyers .  This time the Japanese ships sailed at night. This time they had 60 Zero fighters providing constant air cover.  This time, each destroyer was armed with additional 20mm anti-aircraft guns, specially mounted to protect against low-altitude attacks.  They learned the lessons of the Bismarck Sea.

  They adapted.  The Fifth Air Force attacked at dawn.  12 B- 25 aircraft used bombing from a hovering flight. The results were different.  Two transport vessels were damaged.  One destroyer was damaged .  Three B-25s shot down.    The loss ratio has changed.  Japanese air defenses improved significantly.  The Harmash who survived the Bismarck Sea trained their replacements.

They learned to track targets at low altitude.  They learned to open fire early.  They learned to focus on the bombers during the final approach, when the planes could not maneuver. Americans adapted in response .  By July, Fifth Air Force mechanics had installed additional armor around the cockpit and engines.  They increased the front armament to 12 large-caliber machine guns.

  Some B-25s carried 14 machine guns. The theory remained unchanged.  Suppress defensive fire with devastating force during the approach. Leave no choice for enemy troops but to hide or die. The modification worked.  On November 2, 1943, 38 B-25s attacked Rabaul Harbor in the largest raid using a shaving flight.  There were 18 ships in the harbor , 30 received direct hits: one heavy cruiser sunk, one destroyer sunk, two auxiliary vessels destroyed, 16 merchant ships damaged or sunk.

  The raid lasted 18 minutes. American losses were two B-25s.  The exchange rate has changed again in America’s favor.  But Rabaul proved something different. Bombing from a low-flying flight worked best against ships in closed waters. Ships that could not maneuver freely. Ships anchored in harbors or trapped in narrow straits.

Against convoys in the open ocean, where there was room for maneuver and fighter cover, the tactic was dangerous.  Against ships at anchor, it was devastating. The British adopted this method in late 1943. Royal Air Force fighters equipped with this equipment attacked German convoys near Norway.  The results replicated the experience of the Pacific Theater.

  High losses , high success rate.  The Germans responded by adding more anti-aircraft guns to their merchant ships and requiring them to sail only under heavy fighter cover.  The cost of sea transportation has increased significantly. Efficiency has decreased proportionally.    The Soviet Union used stealth bombing against German ships in the Black and Baltic Seas.

Their technique was cruder.  Lower approach altitude, heavier bombs, less suppressive fire.  The results were mixed. Some ships were sunk.  Many bombers were lost.  The Soviet military was brave.  They lacked the training and refinement of equipment that the Americans had developed through trial and error in the Pacific.

  By 1944, this method had outgrown its original form. American tactics now included coordinated attacks. High-altitude bombers attacked first, forcing the ships to maneuver. The fighters fired to suppress anti-aircraft artillery.  Then low-altitude bombers would come in while the defenses were distracted and disorganized.    The multi-layered approach reduced losses while maintaining efficiency.

The statistics spoke for themselves.  Between March 1943 and August 1945, American aircraft sank or seriously damaged 212 Japanese ships using this method. The cost was 47 bombers lost. The kill ratio is 4.5 ships per bomber.  For comparison, high-altitude bombing gave a ratio of 0.3 ships per bomber. ” Bricochet” bombing was 15 times more effective.

But the human cost was harder to measure.  This tactic required crews to fly directly at ships crammed with weapons, maintaining a steady course under a barrage of tracer bullets.    The psychological stress was enormous. Pilots who flew such missions had shorter service lives, higher levels of combat fatigue, and were more likely to be removed from flights due to stress.

The tactic worked. But it also broke those who used it.  Lerner never flew a ricochet bombing mission again after May 1943.  He trained new crews, saw them go on missions using tactics he had helped prove, and saw some of them not return.  By the end of the war, he had trained 62 pilots in this tactic.  18 of them died in battle.

  23 were injured.  Math was brutal.  29% mortality, 66% casualties including wounded— that’s better than high-altitude bombing, but worse than in almost any other combat aviation role.  The question that military historians have debated for decades has been whether this bombing shortened the war. The answer was complicated.

    The ricochet bombing did not win the battle by itself, but it cut off Japanese supply lines, made reinforcements too expensive, and forced the Japanese navy to abandon large-scale convoys. Without supplies, the garrisons were exhausted.  Without reinforcements, defensive positions became vulnerable. The islands fell one by one.

  What remained undisputed was this .  On March 2 and 3, 1943, nine B-25 bombers , flying at an altitude of 15 meters, destroyed an entire Japanese convoy in 15 minutes of continuous combat.  The tactic was banned twice, everyone called it suicide, but it was proven effective by men who were willing to fly through walls of anti-aircraft fire because the alternative was to allow 7,000 enemy soldiers to reach their target.

The bombers that attacked the convoy in the Bismarck Sea were dismantled after the war.  None of them have survived as a museum exhibit.  Major Ed Lerner returned to the United States in June 1943.  He was 31 years old.  He flew 88 combat missions.  He survived longer than most bomber pilots in the Pacific.    The Army Air Force wanted him to train new crews, pass on his experience and equipment that worked.

  He refused.  Lerner reported and received a transfer to transport aviation.  He spent the rest of the war flying C- 47s, transporting cargo and personnel across the Pacific. No more fighting, no more bombing, no more missions where he saw the crews he trained die in the planes he taught them to fly.  He never explained this decision, nor did he have to.

The command is clear.  Some men were able to continue their combat missions after what they saw.  Others couldn’t.  There was no shame in any of these elections .  In December 1943, he was promoted to lieutenant colonel.  He turned down the promotion twice before accepting it.  He did not seek recognition. He wanted to end the war and return home.

  His wish came true in September 1945. Japan surrendered. Lehner was discharged after 3 months with the Distinguished Flying Cross, two Aviation Medals, and a Purple Heart for shrapnel wounds that he never mentioned in his reports. Lehner died in 1997 in Sacramento, California.  He was 85 years old.  The obituary in the local newspaper devoted only one sentence to his military service.

  There was no mention of the Battle of the Bismarck Sea .  There was no mention of ” jump bombing”.  It was not mentioned that he helped develop tactics that changed naval warfare.  He asked his family not to discuss it.  They fulfilled his request.  General George Kenney received credit for the ” jump” bombing in most historical accounts.

  Lehner was fine with that.  Kenny proposed a theory. Lehner simply proved that it works.  For historians, this difference mattered.  For the pilots who were carrying out the mission, it didn’t matter. They knew who led the first attack. They knew who trained them.  They knew whose methods had saved their lives when Japanese machine gunners led them on a 50- foot approach.

    The B-25 Mitchell bomber became legendary in part because of this bombing run.  The aircraft served in all theaters of World War II, but its reputation was earned in the Pacific during flights that seemed impossible to survive.  By the end of the war, B-25s had sunk more enemy ships than any other type of bomber. The technique that Lehner and his crews had proven in March 1943 became standard doctrine for every B- 25 unit in the Pacific.

No museum exhibits the B-25 that participated in the Battle of the Bismarck Sea.  By the end of the war, the planes were exhausted. Most were scrapped for aluminum.  A few units have survived in museums, restored to flying condition or as static exhibits.    The National Museum of the United States Air Force in Dayton, Ohio, has a B-25 Mitchell.

    The Smithsonian Institution too.  None of them were in the Bismarck Sea, but they represent the crews who were there.    The battle itself is largely forgotten outside the circles of military historians.  It doesn’t have the same information as Midway or Guadalcanal. No major film has been made about her. No known photograph captured that moment.

  Only combat reports, reconnaissance photos, and testimonies from people who mostly preferred not to talk about what they did.  What remains is this .  In March 1943, a group of American bomber crews proved that planes could sink ships by dropping bombs on the water from a height of 50 feet.  This tactic was called suicide.

  before it has proven its effectiveness.  After that, she was called a genius.  The truth was somewhere in the middle. It was a combination of desperation and innovation. These were people willing to try the unknown because proven methods weren’t working. It was courage measured by the decision to stay the course when anti-aircraft fire made the air deadly.

  The war in the Pacific changed after the Bismarck Sea.  Japanese convoys stopped moving within the range of Allied aircraft. Supply lines collapsed, garrisons starved, islands surrendered.  The war was approaching Japan step by step , and the Japanese navy could not prevent it because it could not supply the forward positions.

    The jumping bomb attack did not win the war on its own, but it cut off the supply route the Japanese needed to continue the fight.  If this story moved you as much as it did us, do us a favor— click the ” like” button.  Every like tells YouTube to show this story to more people. Subscribe and turn on notifications .

  We rescue forgotten stories from dusty archives every day. Write a comment right now and tell us where you’re watching us from.  Are you watching from the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, or Australia? Our community is spread all over the world.  You are not just a spectator.  You help keep these memories alive.

  Write to us where you are. Tell us if anyone in your family served .  Just let us know you’re here. Thanks for watching and thanks for making sure Ed Larner and his crews don’t disappear into silence.  These people deserve to be remembered, and you are helping to make that happen.