The Commander Who Watched His Fleet Die in 6 Minutes DD

It’s 10:22 a.m. on the 4th of June, 1942. Commander Mitsuo Fuida looks up from the bridge of the carrier Akagi and sees death falling from the sky. American dive bombers, dozens of them, peeling out of the clouds with nothing to stop them. >> The lookout scream is not a report. It’s pure terror.

The Akagi is a floating bomb deep in her belly. The hangar decks are packed with fueled aircraft and unsecured torpedoes. The rearming crews have been working frantically all morning, switching ordinance back and forth in a deadly gamble. Fua watches a single bomb detach from Lieutenant Dick Best’s dauntless bomber. The bomb falls. Time slows.

This is not how it was supposed to end. 6 months ago, Facida led the air attack on Pearl Harbor. He became a national hero. The Kido Bhai, the most powerful naval strike force in history, has never lost. Four carriers, unbroken victories from Hawaii to the Indian Ocean. But today, acute appendicitis has chained FA to the bridge as a helpless observer.

He cannot fly. He can only watch. and what he sees is the end of everything. Fua’s fleet is here for one reason, to destroy Midway Island and crush the American carriers when they scramble to defend it. It is a trap. Or so the Japanese believe. The Japanese believe their naval codes are secure, unbreakable behind layers of mathematics and procedure.

They are wrong. In the basement of Pearl Harbor, Commander Joseph Rofort’s team at station Hypo has been cracking JN25, the Imperial Navy’s operational code. For weeks, intercepted messages point to a major offensive against a target designated AF. Rofort believes AF is Midway. Washington disagrees. >> So, Hypo sets a trap.

They instruct Midway to send an unencrypted message reporting a failure in the island’s water distillation plant. Days later, Japanese coded traffic confirms AF is short on water. The debate ends. Admiral Chester Nimttz now knows the target, the timing, and the size of the Japanese strike force.

He positions his carriers into position northeast of the island and waits. The trap is set and Fua’s fleet is caught completely unprepared. The trouble began hours earlier at 7:15. Lieutenant Tomaga’s voice crackles over the radio from Midway Island. The land defenses are still intact. Vice Admiral Nagumo paces the bridge. His reserve aircraft are armed with torpedoes, weapons meant for American ships.

To strike the island again, THEY NEED BOMBS. DEEP BELOW THE FLIGHT DECK IN THE CRAMPED hanger spaces, mechanics begin the grueling work. They haul heavy torpedoes from the wing racks, muscles straining in the heat. They replace them with high explosive bombs. The enclosed hangers echo with shouts and the clang of metal on metal. >> The scout planes report is vague.

10 ships, maybe carriers, maybe not. But Nagumo cannot take the risk. >> If American carriers are out there, he needs his anti-ship torpedoes ready. What he doesn’t know is that those carriers are already launching their strike aircraft. The Americans are coming. The mechanics reverse course, scrambling to reload torpedoes.

There is no time to return munitions to the magazines. Bombs and torpedoes pile up in the hangar decks. Unsecured, fueled aircraft crowd the spaces between them. The Akagi has become a floating powder keg. At 9:20, the American torpedo bombers arrive. They come in low and slow Douglas Devastators flying without cover. The Japanese combat air patrol, veteran zero fighters, intercepts them immediately.

Fukita watches from the bridge as the Zeros peel down to sea level. Tracers streak across the water. American planes are hit and fall into the ocean. Not a single torpedo finds its mark. >> To the men on the bridge, it looks like another easy victory. But Fukita notices something. The Zeros are all down at wavetop altitude now, chasing the torpedo planes.

The sky above the fleet is empty. By 10:20, the attacks cease. An eerie silence settles over the fleet. Deep below, the rearming continues. The strike aircraft are still in the hangers. It will be at least another 45 minutes before they can be spotted on deck and launched. But on the bridge, the mood is confident. The Americans have been defeated.

The counter strike is coming. And now, at 10:22 a.m., the moment Fosida has been dreading arrives. His eyes follow the bomb, falling through the air. The bomb punches through the flight deck near the midship elevator. It detonates in the upper hanger. The explosion is blinding. The shock wave lifts Fua off his feet and hurls him against the bulkhead.

Then the chain reaction begins. The bomb has landed among the rearming stations fueled aircraft. Stacked torpedoes, high explosive bombs piled on the deck. Fires erupt instantly. Fuel ignites. Ordinance begins to detonate in a cascading series of blasts. The massive hull shutters with each explosion.

Fua struggles to his knees. His ankles scream in pain. Something is broken. Smoke pours from the shattered elevator shaft. He stumbles toward the railing. Admiral Nagumo stands frozen, staring at nothing. His face is ashen. Tattoo. But Nagumo cannot speak. He cannot comprehend what has just happened. Fuida looks out across the water to starboard.

A pillar of black smoke rises from the kaga. to port another from the Soryu. Three carriers, mortally wounded in 6 minutes, not by overwhelming force, but by a handful of bombs landing at the worst possible moment. Fua tries to move toward the damage control parties, but the heat drives him back.

His surgical wound tears. He ignores it. Crew members stagger through the smoke, faces blackened, hands blistered. [music] >> The words are impossible. The Akagi [music] is not just a ship. She is the sovereign soil of the emperor. To abandon her is disgrace. But the flames are climbing higher. The ammunition is still cooking off.

The deck is glowing red. Fua nods. They order evacuation. The fires have cut off the normal exits. Fua and the other bridge officers prepare to slide down a rope from the bridge to the main deck below. Fua grabs the line. [music] His hands are weak. Halfway down, another explosion rocks the ship. The blast wave throws him sideways.

He loses his grip and slams into the deck below. The fall is shattering. Both ankles snap. Sailors drag him to the edge of the ship. They lower him again, this time to the light cruiser Nagara, pulling alongside, he collapses onto the smaller ship’s deck, [music] unable to stand. As the Nagara pulls away, Fua forces himself [music] to lean against the railing.

He looks back. The Akagi is a burning cathedral. Flames pour from her flight deck. Smoke towers into [music] the sky. Her hull lists slowly to port. Men are still jumping from her sides, tiny figures against the inferno. The flagship is dying. Around her, the Kaga and Soryu burn as well.

Later that afternoon, [music] the Hiryu will join them. The technological superiority of the Empire, the veteran pilots, the strategic initiative, all of it sinking beneath the waves. Fakita feels something break inside him that has nothing to do with his shattered ankles or his surgical wound. The invincible Armada is gone. Commander Mitsuo Fua survived the Battle of Midway, [music] though his broken ankles required months of hospitalization.

The Akagi burned for hours before being scuttled by Japanese destroyers to prevent her capture. The Kaga and Soyu suffered the same fate. The Hiru was destroyed by American dive bombers that afternoon. Japan lost four fleet carriers, [music] 3,057 men, and 248 aircraft. Among the dead were 110 irreplaceable veteran air crew, and hundreds of expert mechanics.

>> [music] >> The loss of skilled maintenance personnel proved devastating to carrier operations. The strategic balance of the Pacific shifted irreversibly. The Battle of Midway marked the end of [music] Japanese offensive capability and the beginning of the long American advance. The man who made the victory possible never [music] received recognition.

Commander Joseph Roshfort, whose codereaking team had cracked the Japanese plans, [music] was immediately recommended for the Distinguished Service Medal by Admiral Nimmitz. Washington [music] denied it twice. Rofort’s success embarrassed intelligence officials in Washington, who had been wrong [music] about the Japanese target.

Within months, he was reassigned to a floating dry dock [music] in San Francisco. He died in 1976, his work unagnowledged. 43 years later, [music] the Navy finally awarded him the medal postumously. Fua would later write extensively [music] about the battle, though his accounts were colored by hindsight and national pride.

He claimed the carriers were 5 minutes [music] from launching when the bombs hit, a myth contradicted by Japanese operational logs, showing at least [music] 45 minutes remained. He positioned himself as the observer who saw the fatal gap [music] in the air defenses. Though historians doubt he understood the significance in the moment.

For the man who led the attack on Pearl [music] Harbor, Midway was a bitter irony, forced to witness his nation’s greatest defeat as a helpless observer, watching the exact moment the rising [music] sun began to set. Want to see more incredible stories of courage, [music] combat, and unbelievable moments from World War II? Like, subscribe, and hit the bell icon so you never miss our next film.

It’s 10:22 a.m. on the 4th of June, 1942. Commander Mitsuo Fuida looks up from the bridge of the carrier Akagi and sees death falling from the sky. American dive bombers, dozens of them, peeling out of the clouds with nothing to stop them. >> The lookout scream is not a report. It’s pure terror.

The Akagi is a floating bomb deep in her belly. The hangar decks are packed with fueled aircraft and unsecured torpedoes. The rearming crews have been working frantically all morning, switching ordinance back and forth in a deadly gamble. Fua watches a single bomb detach from Lieutenant Dick Best’s dauntless bomber. The bomb falls. Time slows.

This is not how it was supposed to end. 6 months ago, Facida led the air attack on Pearl Harbor. He became a national hero. The Kido Bhai, the most powerful naval strike force in history, has never lost. Four carriers, unbroken victories from Hawaii to the Indian Ocean. But today, acute appendicitis has chained FA to the bridge as a helpless observer.

He cannot fly. He can only watch. and what he sees is the end of everything. Fua’s fleet is here for one reason, to destroy Midway Island and crush the American carriers when they scramble to defend it. It is a trap. Or so the Japanese believe. The Japanese believe their naval codes are secure, unbreakable behind layers of mathematics and procedure.

They are wrong. In the basement of Pearl Harbor, Commander Joseph Rofort’s team at station Hypo has been cracking JN25, the Imperial Navy’s operational code. For weeks, intercepted messages point to a major offensive against a target designated AF. Rofort believes AF is Midway. Washington disagrees. >> So, Hypo sets a trap.

They instruct Midway to send an unencrypted message reporting a failure in the island’s water distillation plant. Days later, Japanese coded traffic confirms AF is short on water. The debate ends. Admiral Chester Nimttz now knows the target, the timing, and the size of the Japanese strike force.

He positions his carriers into position northeast of the island and waits. The trap is set and Fua’s fleet is caught completely unprepared. The trouble began hours earlier at 7:15. Lieutenant Tomaga’s voice crackles over the radio from Midway Island. The land defenses are still intact. Vice Admiral Nagumo paces the bridge. His reserve aircraft are armed with torpedoes, weapons meant for American ships.

To strike the island again, THEY NEED BOMBS. DEEP BELOW THE FLIGHT DECK IN THE CRAMPED hanger spaces, mechanics begin the grueling work. They haul heavy torpedoes from the wing racks, muscles straining in the heat. They replace them with high explosive bombs. The enclosed hangers echo with shouts and the clang of metal on metal. >> The scout planes report is vague.

10 ships, maybe carriers, maybe not. But Nagumo cannot take the risk. >> If American carriers are out there, he needs his anti-ship torpedoes ready. What he doesn’t know is that those carriers are already launching their strike aircraft. The Americans are coming. The mechanics reverse course, scrambling to reload torpedoes.

There is no time to return munitions to the magazines. Bombs and torpedoes pile up in the hangar decks. Unsecured, fueled aircraft crowd the spaces between them. The Akagi has become a floating powder keg. At 9:20, the American torpedo bombers arrive. They come in low and slow Douglas Devastators flying without cover. The Japanese combat air patrol, veteran zero fighters, intercepts them immediately.

Fukita watches from the bridge as the Zeros peel down to sea level. Tracers streak across the water. American planes are hit and fall into the ocean. Not a single torpedo finds its mark. >> To the men on the bridge, it looks like another easy victory. But Fukita notices something. The Zeros are all down at wavetop altitude now, chasing the torpedo planes.

The sky above the fleet is empty. By 10:20, the attacks cease. An eerie silence settles over the fleet. Deep below, the rearming continues. The strike aircraft are still in the hangers. It will be at least another 45 minutes before they can be spotted on deck and launched. But on the bridge, the mood is confident. The Americans have been defeated.

The counter strike is coming. And now, at 10:22 a.m., the moment Fosida has been dreading arrives. His eyes follow the bomb, falling through the air. The bomb punches through the flight deck near the midship elevator. It detonates in the upper hanger. The explosion is blinding. The shock wave lifts Fua off his feet and hurls him against the bulkhead.

Then the chain reaction begins. The bomb has landed among the rearming stations fueled aircraft. Stacked torpedoes, high explosive bombs piled on the deck. Fires erupt instantly. Fuel ignites. Ordinance begins to detonate in a cascading series of blasts. The massive hull shutters with each explosion.

Fua struggles to his knees. His ankles scream in pain. Something is broken. Smoke pours from the shattered elevator shaft. He stumbles toward the railing. Admiral Nagumo stands frozen, staring at nothing. His face is ashen. Tattoo. But Nagumo cannot speak. He cannot comprehend what has just happened. Fuida looks out across the water to starboard.

A pillar of black smoke rises from the kaga. to port another from the Soryu. Three carriers, mortally wounded in 6 minutes, not by overwhelming force, but by a handful of bombs landing at the worst possible moment. Fua tries to move toward the damage control parties, but the heat drives him back.

His surgical wound tears. He ignores it. Crew members stagger through the smoke, faces blackened, hands blistered. [music] >> The words are impossible. The Akagi [music] is not just a ship. She is the sovereign soil of the emperor. To abandon her is disgrace. But the flames are climbing higher. The ammunition is still cooking off.

The deck is glowing red. Fua nods. They order evacuation. The fires have cut off the normal exits. Fua and the other bridge officers prepare to slide down a rope from the bridge to the main deck below. Fua grabs the line. [music] His hands are weak. Halfway down, another explosion rocks the ship. The blast wave throws him sideways.

He loses his grip and slams into the deck below. The fall is shattering. Both ankles snap. Sailors drag him to the edge of the ship. They lower him again, this time to the light cruiser Nagara, pulling alongside, he collapses onto the smaller ship’s deck, [music] unable to stand. As the Nagara pulls away, Fua forces himself [music] to lean against the railing.

He looks back. The Akagi is a burning cathedral. Flames pour from her flight deck. Smoke towers into [music] the sky. Her hull lists slowly to port. Men are still jumping from her sides, tiny figures against the inferno. The flagship is dying. Around her, the Kaga and Soryu burn as well.

Later that afternoon, [music] the Hiryu will join them. The technological superiority of the Empire, the veteran pilots, the strategic initiative, all of it sinking beneath the waves. Fakita feels something break inside him that has nothing to do with his shattered ankles or his surgical wound. The invincible Armada is gone. Commander Mitsuo Fua survived the Battle of Midway, [music] though his broken ankles required months of hospitalization.

The Akagi burned for hours before being scuttled by Japanese destroyers to prevent her capture. The Kaga and Soyu suffered the same fate. The Hiru was destroyed by American dive bombers that afternoon. Japan lost four fleet carriers, [music] 3,057 men, and 248 aircraft. Among the dead were 110 irreplaceable veteran air crew, and hundreds of expert mechanics.

>> [music] >> The loss of skilled maintenance personnel proved devastating to carrier operations. The strategic balance of the Pacific shifted irreversibly. The Battle of Midway marked the end of [music] Japanese offensive capability and the beginning of the long American advance. The man who made the victory possible never [music] received recognition.

Commander Joseph Roshfort, whose codereaking team had cracked the Japanese plans, [music] was immediately recommended for the Distinguished Service Medal by Admiral Nimmitz. Washington [music] denied it twice. Rofort’s success embarrassed intelligence officials in Washington, who had been wrong [music] about the Japanese target.

Within months, he was reassigned to a floating dry dock [music] in San Francisco. He died in 1976, his work unagnowledged. 43 years later, [music] the Navy finally awarded him the medal postumously. Fua would later write extensively [music] about the battle, though his accounts were colored by hindsight and national pride.

He claimed the carriers were 5 minutes [music] from launching when the bombs hit, a myth contradicted by Japanese operational logs, showing at least [music] 45 minutes remained. He positioned himself as the observer who saw the fatal gap [music] in the air defenses. Though historians doubt he understood the significance in the moment.

For the man who led the attack on Pearl [music] Harbor, Midway was a bitter irony, forced to witness his nation’s greatest defeat as a helpless observer, watching the exact moment the rising [music] sun began to set. Want to see more incredible stories of courage, [music] combat, and unbelievable moments from World War II? Like, subscribe, and hit the bell icon so you never miss our next film.

It’s 10:22 a.m. on the 4th of June, 1942. Commander Mitsuo Fuida looks up from the bridge of the carrier Akagi and sees death falling from the sky. American dive bombers, dozens of them, peeling out of the clouds with nothing to stop them. >> The lookout scream is not a report. It’s pure terror.

The Akagi is a floating bomb deep in her belly. The hangar decks are packed with fueled aircraft and unsecured torpedoes. The rearming crews have been working frantically all morning, switching ordinance back and forth in a deadly gamble. Fua watches a single bomb detach from Lieutenant Dick Best’s dauntless bomber. The bomb falls. Time slows.

This is not how it was supposed to end. 6 months ago, Facida led the air attack on Pearl Harbor. He became a national hero. The Kido Bhai, the most powerful naval strike force in history, has never lost. Four carriers, unbroken victories from Hawaii to the Indian Ocean. But today, acute appendicitis has chained FA to the bridge as a helpless observer.

He cannot fly. He can only watch. and what he sees is the end of everything. Fua’s fleet is here for one reason, to destroy Midway Island and crush the American carriers when they scramble to defend it. It is a trap. Or so the Japanese believe. The Japanese believe their naval codes are secure, unbreakable behind layers of mathematics and procedure.

They are wrong. In the basement of Pearl Harbor, Commander Joseph Rofort’s team at station Hypo has been cracking JN25, the Imperial Navy’s operational code. For weeks, intercepted messages point to a major offensive against a target designated AF. Rofort believes AF is Midway. Washington disagrees. >> So, Hypo sets a trap.

They instruct Midway to send an unencrypted message reporting a failure in the island’s water distillation plant. Days later, Japanese coded traffic confirms AF is short on water. The debate ends. Admiral Chester Nimttz now knows the target, the timing, and the size of the Japanese strike force.

He positions his carriers into position northeast of the island and waits. The trap is set and Fua’s fleet is caught completely unprepared. The trouble began hours earlier at 7:15. Lieutenant Tomaga’s voice crackles over the radio from Midway Island. The land defenses are still intact. Vice Admiral Nagumo paces the bridge. His reserve aircraft are armed with torpedoes, weapons meant for American ships.

To strike the island again, THEY NEED BOMBS. DEEP BELOW THE FLIGHT DECK IN THE CRAMPED hanger spaces, mechanics begin the grueling work. They haul heavy torpedoes from the wing racks, muscles straining in the heat. They replace them with high explosive bombs. The enclosed hangers echo with shouts and the clang of metal on metal. >> The scout planes report is vague.

10 ships, maybe carriers, maybe not. But Nagumo cannot take the risk. >> If American carriers are out there, he needs his anti-ship torpedoes ready. What he doesn’t know is that those carriers are already launching their strike aircraft. The Americans are coming. The mechanics reverse course, scrambling to reload torpedoes.

There is no time to return munitions to the magazines. Bombs and torpedoes pile up in the hangar decks. Unsecured, fueled aircraft crowd the spaces between them. The Akagi has become a floating powder keg. At 9:20, the American torpedo bombers arrive. They come in low and slow Douglas Devastators flying without cover. The Japanese combat air patrol, veteran zero fighters, intercepts them immediately.

Fukita watches from the bridge as the Zeros peel down to sea level. Tracers streak across the water. American planes are hit and fall into the ocean. Not a single torpedo finds its mark. >> To the men on the bridge, it looks like another easy victory. But Fukita notices something. The Zeros are all down at wavetop altitude now, chasing the torpedo planes.

The sky above the fleet is empty. By 10:20, the attacks cease. An eerie silence settles over the fleet. Deep below, the rearming continues. The strike aircraft are still in the hangers. It will be at least another 45 minutes before they can be spotted on deck and launched. But on the bridge, the mood is confident. The Americans have been defeated.

The counter strike is coming. And now, at 10:22 a.m., the moment Fosida has been dreading arrives. His eyes follow the bomb, falling through the air. The bomb punches through the flight deck near the midship elevator. It detonates in the upper hanger. The explosion is blinding. The shock wave lifts Fua off his feet and hurls him against the bulkhead.

Then the chain reaction begins. The bomb has landed among the rearming stations fueled aircraft. Stacked torpedoes, high explosive bombs piled on the deck. Fires erupt instantly. Fuel ignites. Ordinance begins to detonate in a cascading series of blasts. The massive hull shutters with each explosion.

Fua struggles to his knees. His ankles scream in pain. Something is broken. Smoke pours from the shattered elevator shaft. He stumbles toward the railing. Admiral Nagumo stands frozen, staring at nothing. His face is ashen. Tattoo. But Nagumo cannot speak. He cannot comprehend what has just happened. Fuida looks out across the water to starboard.

A pillar of black smoke rises from the kaga. to port another from the Soryu. Three carriers, mortally wounded in 6 minutes, not by overwhelming force, but by a handful of bombs landing at the worst possible moment. Fua tries to move toward the damage control parties, but the heat drives him back.

His surgical wound tears. He ignores it. Crew members stagger through the smoke, faces blackened, hands blistered. [music] >> The words are impossible. The Akagi [music] is not just a ship. She is the sovereign soil of the emperor. To abandon her is disgrace. But the flames are climbing higher. The ammunition is still cooking off.

The deck is glowing red. Fua nods. They order evacuation. The fires have cut off the normal exits. Fua and the other bridge officers prepare to slide down a rope from the bridge to the main deck below. Fua grabs the line. [music] His hands are weak. Halfway down, another explosion rocks the ship. The blast wave throws him sideways.

He loses his grip and slams into the deck below. The fall is shattering. Both ankles snap. Sailors drag him to the edge of the ship. They lower him again, this time to the light cruiser Nagara, pulling alongside, he collapses onto the smaller ship’s deck, [music] unable to stand. As the Nagara pulls away, Fua forces himself [music] to lean against the railing.

He looks back. The Akagi is a burning cathedral. Flames pour from her flight deck. Smoke towers into [music] the sky. Her hull lists slowly to port. Men are still jumping from her sides, tiny figures against the inferno. The flagship is dying. Around her, the Kaga and Soryu burn as well.

Later that afternoon, [music] the Hiryu will join them. The technological superiority of the Empire, the veteran pilots, the strategic initiative, all of it sinking beneath the waves. Fakita feels something break inside him that has nothing to do with his shattered ankles or his surgical wound. The invincible Armada is gone. Commander Mitsuo Fua survived the Battle of Midway, [music] though his broken ankles required months of hospitalization.

The Akagi burned for hours before being scuttled by Japanese destroyers to prevent her capture. The Kaga and Soyu suffered the same fate. The Hiru was destroyed by American dive bombers that afternoon. Japan lost four fleet carriers, [music] 3,057 men, and 248 aircraft. Among the dead were 110 irreplaceable veteran air crew, and hundreds of expert mechanics.

>> [music] >> The loss of skilled maintenance personnel proved devastating to carrier operations. The strategic balance of the Pacific shifted irreversibly. The Battle of Midway marked the end of [music] Japanese offensive capability and the beginning of the long American advance. The man who made the victory possible never [music] received recognition.

Commander Joseph Roshfort, whose codereaking team had cracked the Japanese plans, [music] was immediately recommended for the Distinguished Service Medal by Admiral Nimmitz. Washington [music] denied it twice. Rofort’s success embarrassed intelligence officials in Washington, who had been wrong [music] about the Japanese target.

Within months, he was reassigned to a floating dry dock [music] in San Francisco. He died in 1976, his work unagnowledged. 43 years later, [music] the Navy finally awarded him the medal postumously. Fua would later write extensively [music] about the battle, though his accounts were colored by hindsight and national pride.

He claimed the carriers were 5 minutes [music] from launching when the bombs hit, a myth contradicted by Japanese operational logs, showing at least [music] 45 minutes remained. He positioned himself as the observer who saw the fatal gap [music] in the air defenses. Though historians doubt he understood the significance in the moment.

For the man who led the attack on Pearl [music] Harbor, Midway was a bitter irony, forced to witness his nation’s greatest defeat as a helpless observer, watching the exact moment the rising [music] sun began to set. Want to see more incredible stories of courage, [music] combat, and unbelievable moments from World War II? Like, subscribe, and hit the bell icon so you never miss our next film.

It’s 10:22 a.m. on the 4th of June, 1942. Commander Mitsuo Fuida looks up from the bridge of the carrier Akagi and sees death falling from the sky. American dive bombers, dozens of them, peeling out of the clouds with nothing to stop them. >> The lookout scream is not a report. It’s pure terror.

The Akagi is a floating bomb deep in her belly. The hangar decks are packed with fueled aircraft and unsecured torpedoes. The rearming crews have been working frantically all morning, switching ordinance back and forth in a deadly gamble. Fua watches a single bomb detach from Lieutenant Dick Best’s dauntless bomber. The bomb falls. Time slows.

This is not how it was supposed to end. 6 months ago, Facida led the air attack on Pearl Harbor. He became a national hero. The Kido Bhai, the most powerful naval strike force in history, has never lost. Four carriers, unbroken victories from Hawaii to the Indian Ocean. But today, acute appendicitis has chained FA to the bridge as a helpless observer.

He cannot fly. He can only watch. and what he sees is the end of everything. Fua’s fleet is here for one reason, to destroy Midway Island and crush the American carriers when they scramble to defend it. It is a trap. Or so the Japanese believe. The Japanese believe their naval codes are secure, unbreakable behind layers of mathematics and procedure.

They are wrong. In the basement of Pearl Harbor, Commander Joseph Rofort’s team at station Hypo has been cracking JN25, the Imperial Navy’s operational code. For weeks, intercepted messages point to a major offensive against a target designated AF. Rofort believes AF is Midway. Washington disagrees. >> So, Hypo sets a trap.

They instruct Midway to send an unencrypted message reporting a failure in the island’s water distillation plant. Days later, Japanese coded traffic confirms AF is short on water. The debate ends. Admiral Chester Nimttz now knows the target, the timing, and the size of the Japanese strike force.

He positions his carriers into position northeast of the island and waits. The trap is set and Fua’s fleet is caught completely unprepared. The trouble began hours earlier at 7:15. Lieutenant Tomaga’s voice crackles over the radio from Midway Island. The land defenses are still intact. Vice Admiral Nagumo paces the bridge. His reserve aircraft are armed with torpedoes, weapons meant for American ships.

To strike the island again, THEY NEED BOMBS. DEEP BELOW THE FLIGHT DECK IN THE CRAMPED hanger spaces, mechanics begin the grueling work. They haul heavy torpedoes from the wing racks, muscles straining in the heat. They replace them with high explosive bombs. The enclosed hangers echo with shouts and the clang of metal on metal. >> The scout planes report is vague.

10 ships, maybe carriers, maybe not. But Nagumo cannot take the risk. >> If American carriers are out there, he needs his anti-ship torpedoes ready. What he doesn’t know is that those carriers are already launching their strike aircraft. The Americans are coming. The mechanics reverse course, scrambling to reload torpedoes.

There is no time to return munitions to the magazines. Bombs and torpedoes pile up in the hangar decks. Unsecured, fueled aircraft crowd the spaces between them. The Akagi has become a floating powder keg. At 9:20, the American torpedo bombers arrive. They come in low and slow Douglas Devastators flying without cover. The Japanese combat air patrol, veteran zero fighters, intercepts them immediately.

Fukita watches from the bridge as the Zeros peel down to sea level. Tracers streak across the water. American planes are hit and fall into the ocean. Not a single torpedo finds its mark. >> To the men on the bridge, it looks like another easy victory. But Fukita notices something. The Zeros are all down at wavetop altitude now, chasing the torpedo planes.

The sky above the fleet is empty. By 10:20, the attacks cease. An eerie silence settles over the fleet. Deep below, the rearming continues. The strike aircraft are still in the hangers. It will be at least another 45 minutes before they can be spotted on deck and launched. But on the bridge, the mood is confident. The Americans have been defeated.

The counter strike is coming. And now, at 10:22 a.m., the moment Fosida has been dreading arrives. His eyes follow the bomb, falling through the air. The bomb punches through the flight deck near the midship elevator. It detonates in the upper hanger. The explosion is blinding. The shock wave lifts Fua off his feet and hurls him against the bulkhead.

Then the chain reaction begins. The bomb has landed among the rearming stations fueled aircraft. Stacked torpedoes, high explosive bombs piled on the deck. Fires erupt instantly. Fuel ignites. Ordinance begins to detonate in a cascading series of blasts. The massive hull shutters with each explosion.

Fua struggles to his knees. His ankles scream in pain. Something is broken. Smoke pours from the shattered elevator shaft. He stumbles toward the railing. Admiral Nagumo stands frozen, staring at nothing. His face is ashen. Tattoo. But Nagumo cannot speak. He cannot comprehend what has just happened. Fuida looks out across the water to starboard.

A pillar of black smoke rises from the kaga. to port another from the Soryu. Three carriers, mortally wounded in 6 minutes, not by overwhelming force, but by a handful of bombs landing at the worst possible moment. Fua tries to move toward the damage control parties, but the heat drives him back.

His surgical wound tears. He ignores it. Crew members stagger through the smoke, faces blackened, hands blistered. [music] >> The words are impossible. The Akagi [music] is not just a ship. She is the sovereign soil of the emperor. To abandon her is disgrace. But the flames are climbing higher. The ammunition is still cooking off.

The deck is glowing red. Fua nods. They order evacuation. The fires have cut off the normal exits. Fua and the other bridge officers prepare to slide down a rope from the bridge to the main deck below. Fua grabs the line. [music] His hands are weak. Halfway down, another explosion rocks the ship. The blast wave throws him sideways.

He loses his grip and slams into the deck below. The fall is shattering. Both ankles snap. Sailors drag him to the edge of the ship. They lower him again, this time to the light cruiser Nagara, pulling alongside, he collapses onto the smaller ship’s deck, [music] unable to stand. As the Nagara pulls away, Fua forces himself [music] to lean against the railing.

He looks back. The Akagi is a burning cathedral. Flames pour from her flight deck. Smoke towers into [music] the sky. Her hull lists slowly to port. Men are still jumping from her sides, tiny figures against the inferno. The flagship is dying. Around her, the Kaga and Soryu burn as well.

Later that afternoon, [music] the Hiryu will join them. The technological superiority of the Empire, the veteran pilots, the strategic initiative, all of it sinking beneath the waves. Fakita feels something break inside him that has nothing to do with his shattered ankles or his surgical wound. The invincible Armada is gone. Commander Mitsuo Fua survived the Battle of Midway, [music] though his broken ankles required months of hospitalization.

The Akagi burned for hours before being scuttled by Japanese destroyers to prevent her capture. The Kaga and Soyu suffered the same fate. The Hiru was destroyed by American dive bombers that afternoon. Japan lost four fleet carriers, [music] 3,057 men, and 248 aircraft. Among the dead were 110 irreplaceable veteran air crew, and hundreds of expert mechanics.

>> [music] >> The loss of skilled maintenance personnel proved devastating to carrier operations. The strategic balance of the Pacific shifted irreversibly. The Battle of Midway marked the end of [music] Japanese offensive capability and the beginning of the long American advance. The man who made the victory possible never [music] received recognition.

Commander Joseph Roshfort, whose codereaking team had cracked the Japanese plans, [music] was immediately recommended for the Distinguished Service Medal by Admiral Nimmitz. Washington [music] denied it twice. Rofort’s success embarrassed intelligence officials in Washington, who had been wrong [music] about the Japanese target.

Within months, he was reassigned to a floating dry dock [music] in San Francisco. He died in 1976, his work unagnowledged. 43 years later, [music] the Navy finally awarded him the medal postumously. Fua would later write extensively [music] about the battle, though his accounts were colored by hindsight and national pride.

He claimed the carriers were 5 minutes [music] from launching when the bombs hit, a myth contradicted by Japanese operational logs, showing at least [music] 45 minutes remained. He positioned himself as the observer who saw the fatal gap [music] in the air defenses. Though historians doubt he understood the significance in the moment.

For the man who led the attack on Pearl [music] Harbor, Midway was a bitter irony, forced to witness his nation’s greatest defeat as a helpless observer, watching the exact moment the rising [music] sun began to set. Want to see more incredible stories of courage, [music] combat, and unbelievable moments from World War II? Like, subscribe, and hit the bell icon so you never miss our next film.