Japanese Couldn’t Believe One “Tiny” Destroyer Annihilated 6 Submarines in 12 Days — Shocked Navy

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In the early hours of May 19, 1944, Lieutenant Commander Walton Pendleton found himself at the helm of the USS England, a Buckley-class destroyer escort. As the combat information center buzzed with anticipation, Pendleton, a seasoned officer at 37 years old, was on his first war patrol as commanding officer. Despite his extensive training, he had yet to score a single submarine kill. The stakes were high; the Japanese Imperial Navy had deployed seven submarines in a strategic line, poised to intercept American forces as they moved toward the Marianas.

The USS England was 77 feet shorter than a fleet destroyer, but it was equipped with a revolutionary weapon: the hedgehog. This forward-throwing mortar system was designed to engage submarines with pinpoint accuracy, unlike the traditional depth charges that had a dismal success rate. The statistics were grim; British forces had launched over 5,000 depth charge attacks with only 85 confirmed kills, a mere 1.6% success rate. In contrast, the hedgehog offered a glimmer of hope with an initial 5% success rate in trials. Pendleton, however, believed in the numbers and the potential of this new weapon.

Just days before the patrol, intelligence had confirmed the location of the Japanese submarine I-16. As Pendleton received the sonar operator’s report of a contact moving at 6 knots beneath the surface, he felt a surge of determination. This was his chance to prove the effectiveness of the hedgehog and, perhaps, to change the course of their mission.

The first hedgehog attack was launched at 1341, but it resulted in silence—a miss. However, with each subsequent attack, Pendleton and his crew grew more adept at tracking the elusive submarine. After several tense moments, the third attack resulted in a hit, and the explosion reverberated through the water. The crew erupted in cheers as debris began to surface, signaling their first kill. The I-16 had been sunk, and with it, 107 Japanese sailors lost their lives.

But the victory was bittersweet. Fleet Radio Unit Pacific had intercepted new intelligence indicating that seven more Japanese submarines were patrolling nearby. Pendleton and his crew had proven their mettle, but they now faced an even greater challenge. The odds were daunting, with three destroyers hunting seven submarines, but the crew’s confidence in the hedgehog grew with each successful attack.

As they continued their patrol, the USS England became a hunting machine. Each time they engaged a submarine, they relied on mathematics and strategy. The crew had learned to anticipate the enemy’s evasive maneuvers, and with each successful attack, their reputation grew. By the end of the patrol, they had sunk four submarines in just five days, a staggering feat that showcased the effectiveness of the hedgehog system.

However, the price of their success weighed heavily on Pendleton. Each kill represented lives lost, families shattered, and the harsh realities of war. The crew had witnessed the aftermath of their attacks—oil slicks spreading across the ocean, debris floating in the water, and the haunting silence that followed.

On May 25, Admiral Hollyy ordered the USS England to be reassigned to carrier escort duty, deeming her too valuable to risk further. Pendleton refused to abandon the mission; he knew that three submarines remained on the NA line, and the mathematics suggested they could still achieve more. With one last chance granted by Hollyy, the England set out again.

The final engagement came on June 1, 1944. The crew detected RO 109, the last remaining submarine, and the tension was palpable. With their ammunition dwindling, the stakes had never been higher. The Japanese commander, having learned from the fate of his comrades, attempted to evade detection by going silent and deep. But Pendleton and his crew had honed their skills, and they were determined to finish what they had started.

As the England launched its final hedgehog attack, the crew held their breath. The explosions echoed through the water, and the submarine was lost in an instant. Six submarines sunk in twelve days—a record that would stand unmatched in naval history. The crew celebrated their victory, but the weight of their actions lingered in the air. They had proven the effectiveness of the hedgehog, but at a cost that would haunt them forever.

In the aftermath of their success, Admiral King sent a message to the fleet, declaring, “There’ll always be an England in the United States Navy.” Yet, as time passed, the USS England was deemed expendable. After suffering severe damage from a kamikaze attack, she was ultimately scrapped, her legacy fading into obscurity.

Lieutenant Commander Walton Pendleton survived the war, promoted and assigned to new duties, but he never forgot the men he lost and the lives he took. He retired in 1961, passing away in 1973, buried with honors at Arlington National Cemetery. His gravestone bears the Navy Cross but fails to mention the six submarines he sank or the twelve days that changed naval warfare.

The story of the USS England and her crew is a poignant reminder of the complexities of war. They trusted mathematics over tradition, calculated firing solutions while others relied on instinct, and ultimately changed the course of naval history. Yet, their story remains largely untold, overshadowed by the grand narratives of larger ships and battles.

In the end, the legacy of the USS England is not just about the six submarines she sank but about the men who served aboard her—heroes whose names may not be remembered, but whose actions changed the course of a war. Their story deserves to be told, to resonate through time, reminding us of the sacrifices made in the name of duty and honor.