If you are interested in the detailed minutiae of how battleships
were designed and built in the Second World War, this is not the
book to buy. Actual technical description is quite sparse and that's
not really what this book is about. What it does, very well indeed,
is to detail the appalling human cost that went into the creation
of this beautiful, useless ship. The story is one of occasional
horror and frequent farce.
Musashi was built in the Mitsubishi shipyard at Nagasaki, a town
which in the late 1930s had a substantial Chinese community. When
it was decided to award the construction contract to the Mitsubishi
yard, the Japanese secret police's paranoia was so great that they
moved into Nagasaki's Chinatown and more or less destroyed it in
a night. They arrested almost every inhabitant and - while they
were about it, so to speak - beat several of them to death for being
suspiciously Chinese.
The shipyard was overlooked by hills; Japanese secret police would
hide in those hills arresting and torturing any hill-walkers or
ramblers thought to be paying too much attention to the view towards
the shipyard below. Anyone hillwalking around Nagasaki had to face
the land at all times, or else. The police did this even though
nothing could actually be seen of the shipyard - because the shipbuilders,
as well as building the world's largest battleship, were doing so
behind the world's largest sisal-rope curtain. This weighed 400
tons and used up almost the entire sisal-rope output of Japan, driving
the price to ludicrous heights and creating another security problem
in that people might start asking what the Navy needed all that
sisal-rope for....
At one point in the construction, a blueprint of part of the turret
ring was accidentally incinerated; assumed stolen, the builders
were facing liquidation as spies by the secret police when its true
fate came to light.
And so it goes on. The ship itself feels like a metaphor rather
than a real entity; one has little impression of her other than
as a vast, brooding presence, doomed by our foreknowledge of her
fate. The ship is oddly anonymous, not least because the builders
were not allowed even to know her name. Farcically, when she was
launched, the dignitary involved mumbled it inaudibly into his hand
so the people building her would not find out the real name of "Number
Two Battleship"! Nor were they allowed to pool experience with
the builders of Number One or Number Three Battleship, although
they did learn the ominous news that the latter was to be completed
as an aircraft carrier.
No such useful fate for Musashi. The launch itself was a fraught
operation; never having launched anything so huge before, there
was concern that she might go careering uncontrollably across the
channel and beach herself catastrophically on the opposite shore,
so a raft had to be specially built and moored opposite the slipway.
This way, Number Two Battleship would have something softer than
the shore to crash into if such a thing happened.
It didn't, of course, and off went Musashi to battle - or rather
to war, to idle at Truk, to Lingga Roads, and other anchorages,
for she only ever saw one battle. And even that was a battle against
aircraft, to be sunk with contemptuous ease. She absorbed tremendous
damage, but her anti-aircraft armament - 251 weapons, according
to Januscz Skulski (in "The Battleship Yamato") - proved
pitifully ineffective.
Japan was always, after all, going to run out of battleships before
America ran out of torpedoes. This book tells the story of perhaps
the only unequivocally successful aspect of Musashi's career - the
effort to keep her secret. The Americans never suspected Musashi's
existence until they sank her; the point of her existence, arguably,
remains a mystery to this day.
Unputdownable!
|