The Story of How 400 Planes Brought Down the Yamato Once Deemed Unsinkable

Yamato’s Final Mission

In early April 1945, as the war in the Pacific neared its end, Japan prepared one last effort to defend Okinawa. The battleship Yamato, the largest ever built, was ordered to sea on April 6. She left the port of Tokuyama with a small escort of destroyers and cruisers. Everyone aboard understood the mission had no return. The plan was simple but desperate: sail south, run the vessel aground on Okinawa, and use her as a giant gun platform against American forces.

Sailors on deck knew the truth. Many wrote farewell notes or sat in silence, watching the coastline vanish. For them, the voyage was not only a mission but a farewell to home. By dawn the next day, Yamato pushed into open water, her crew bracing for what awaited.

Discovery at Sea

At 7 a.m. on April 7, the submarine USS Threadfin sighted a vast silhouette moving south with escorts. A coded message confirmed the presence of Yamato. Soon after, another submarine, USS Hackleback, made the same report. American commanders realized that Japan had committed its last great ship to a one-way mission. Orders quickly spread across the fleet to prepare for an all-out strike.

By mid-morning, the flight decks of U.S. carriers roared with activity. Planes lined up in waves—torpedo-armed Avengers, dive-bombing Helldivers, and fighter escorts. Nearly 400 aircraft rose into the sky. Commanders instructed them to strike Yamato’s port side only, hoping to unbalance the giant and roll her into the sea.

The Air Assault Begins

By late morning, lookout crews on Yamato spotted contrails crossing the horizon. Sirens sounded, and sailors rushed to their stations. Gun crews braced for the inevitable storm. Just after noon, the first bombs tore into the ship, shaking steel decks and sending flames skyward. Torpedoes followed, crashing into her port side exactly where American planners had aimed.

Below decks, water poured in. Pipes burst, lights failed, and men struggled in the dark. Some compartments were sealed to slow the flooding, trapping those inside. Above, anti-aircraft gunners fired continuously, determined to fight as long as possible. Sailors slipped final letters into their pockets, hoping someone might carry them home.

Fire, Flood, and Collapse

By early afternoon, Yamato was ablaze. Her decks ran slick with oil and blood, while towering flames consumed gun turrets. Pilots looking down described a vast burning island in the sea. Survivors tried to help each other, handing over letters or clinging to railings, even as explosions tore the ship apart.

Wave after wave of aircraft pressed the attack. Torpedoes ripped open new wounds in her hull, and each blast sent seawater rushing in with greater force. Men faced impossible choices—jump into burning oil or remain aboard a collapsing fortress of steel.

The End of the Battleship

By 2 p.m., Yamato leaned sharply to port. Survivors clung to railings as the ship rolled. Minutes later, her magazines detonated in a massive explosion that sent a mushroom cloud six miles into the sky. Steel fragments rained down as the battleship vanished beneath the waves.

Of the more than 3,000 aboard, fewer than 300 were rescued. Survivors later recalled oil-covered seas, smoke-filled skies, and the cries of comrades fading in the water. For Japan, the loss was more than military. The ship had been a symbol of strength and faith in heavy armor. Its destruction signaled the end of the battleship era and confirmed that air power now ruled the seas.