underwater missions of World War II. He was
ordered to cruise the well-traveled route be-
tween Guam and Leyte, in the Philippines,
looking for targets. Bad luck seemed to plague
I-58. It cruised the region for several days with-
out making any contacts with the enemy.
Hashimoto had all but given up and was about
to return home when, at midnight on July 26,
1945, he espied a large warship on the horizon.
Peering through his periscope, he watched in
disbelief as it appeared to be sailing directly to-
ward him and—inexplicably—was not taking
evasive action. He ordered the I-58 to battle
stations and loaded six torpedoes—much to
the disappointment of his kaitencrew! When
the target had sailed to within 1,500 meters,
Hashimoto loosed a salvo at the darkened ob-
ject, beautifully silhouetted against the moon,
which he guessed was an Idaho-class battle-
ship. Several explosions were heard, and
within 15 minutes the target disappeared be-
neath the waves. Amid much rejoicing, the per-
sistent submarine captain ordered I-58 bat-
tened down, and he headed home for Japan.
The unidentified visitor was Hashimoto’s only
sinking of the war, but he was relieved to have
accomplished something. His was the last Ja-
panese naval victory of World War II.
Unknown to Hashimoto at that time, his vic-
tim was the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis,a
big warship with a distinguished past.
Launched in 1935, it had battled across the Pa-
cific and even once served as the flagship of
Adm. Raymond Spruance. In 1945, command
had fallen upon Capt. Charles B. McVay III, a
highly decorated combat veteran. Indianapolis
had been in San Francisco undergoing repairs
when, by dint of its excellent reputation, it was
specially selected for a very secret mission.
Sailing in July 1945, McVay was tasked with
transporting parts of the atomic bomb to the is-
land of Tinian, from where the new weapon
would ultimately be dropped on Hiroshima. He
arrived and delivered his cargo on July 27 as
scheduled, then weighed anchor and steamed
for Leyte to join the American fleet gathered
there. McVay had not been warned of any Japa-
nese submarine activity in the region of Guam
(some had been reported); at this stage of the
war, none was expected. On the fatal evening of
July 28, 1945—heavily overcast with poor visi-
bility—McVay ordered Indianapolisto stop
zigzagging to shorten its arrival time at Leyte.
The night crew was specifically instructed to
resume the maneuver should the weather im-
prove; then he retired. This decision was rea-
sonable and completely within the captain’s
discretion. Within an hour the Indianapolis
was struck amidships and sank in 12 confusing
minutes—before an SOS could be dispatched.
The big vessel went down quickly, taking an es-
timated 300 crewmen with it, and few lifeboats
or rafts could be secured. This left 900 sailors
swimming in the open ocean. They remained
there four days because nobody at Leyte no-
ticed that the Indianapoliswas overdue or
missing, and rescue missions were not dis-
patched. Meanwhile, McVay’s survivors suf-
fered from exposure, exhaustion, and lack of
freshwater. Worse, their splashing and bleeding
attracted great numbers of sharks, who gorged
themselves on human flesh. It was not until Au-
gust 2, 1945, four days later, that a PBY sea-
plane touched down to rescue the survivors. By
this time only 316 men were still alive.
As the I-58 slowly wended its way home, a
message was received by radio on August 15,
1945, suggesting that Japan had surrendered.
Hashimoto dismissed it as some kind of Amer-
ican ploy, and he remained combat-ready.
When the truth finally emerged, both the cap-
tain and his crew were shocked. Hashimoto
then dutifully turned in his sword and surren-
dered to American authorities as ordered. In
December 1945, the captain was further dis-
mayed to learn that he was being flown to
Washington, D.C., as a witness for the prose-
cution in a court-martial. Captain McVay, who
previously enjoyed a sterling reputation, was
being court-martialed for the loss of his ship.
The introduction of an enemy officer at Ameri-
can court-martial proceedings was unprece-
dented, and it caused a public outcry. Never-
theless, Navy Chief of Staff Ernest King
insisted that be held accountable for the loss
of his ship. Speaking through an interpreter,HASHIMOTO, MOCHITSURA