bombers as they passed over his coconut plantation on a direct course for Rabaul.
The formation consisted of sixteen Navy Type 96 land attack aircraft of the Chitose Air Group, currently attached to the 24th Air Flotilla at Truk. Known to the Allies as Mitsubishi G3Ms, the twin-engine aircraft were fast and well armed. They also possessed an extraordinary combat radius that allowed them to reach Rabaul easily from their airfield seven hundred miles away. The Imperial Navy’s unique category of land-based attack aircraft, rikujo kogeki-ki (commonly abbreviated as rikko) , emphasized the use of aerial torpedoes against ships, but the aircraft could also carry bombs, and on this mission the Mitsubishis were armed with 60-kilogram fragmentation bombs.
The air-raid sirens began to wail in Rabaul shortly after 1100. High atop the North Daughter, the young antiaircraft gunners fidgeted with excitement as they strained to catch a first glimpse of the enemy. Suddenly the planes appeared—sixteen bombers coming straight toward the gunners in perfect V formation. The Aussies were enthralled by the size and splendor of the enemy formation, and many thought the planes looked beautiful in the sunlight.
One keyed-up teenager, having never experienced the guns in action, asked, “ Can we really fire this time ?”
“Too right we can,” answered Lt. David M. Selby, the battery’s commanding officer. He gave the order to fire, and the old guns belched flame a split second apart, causing the gunners to flinch reflexively. They held their collective breath until the shells detonated at thirteen thousand feet, far below the enemy planes. Recovering from their surprise at the initial blast of heat and noise, the gunners set the fuses for the maximum range of fifteen thosand feet and quickly settled into the familiar routine they had practiced for months, getting off round after round from the two vintage weapons. But still the shells failed to reach the enemy planes. The only noteworthy outcome was the successful performance of the cracked breach; otherwise the Japanese bombers continued toward Lakunai airdrome with nary a scratch.
At the airdrome, Flight Lieutenant Brookes and Sqn. Ldr. Archibald R. Tindal scrambled aloft in two Wirraways just as the bombs began falling. They should have been airborne much sooner, but for unknown reasons the fighters did not take off in time to intercept the formation. Not that the delay made much difference: the Japanese bombers were at least ten miles per hour faster than the Wirraways. Two other Wirraway crews tried to scramble from Lakunai but were forced to abort, their vision obscured by thick clouds of volcanic dust churned up by the exploding enemy bombs.
Without interference from the Wirraways or the antiaircraft battery, the Japanese should have smashed the airdrome. Surprisingly, however, only three bombs out of forty actually hit the target. Twenty struck the water, and the other seventeen landed within the Rapindik native housing complex and infirmary adjacent to the airdrome. Shrapnel from the small fragmentation bombs caused horrific casualties in the confined area, killing a dozen islanders outright and severely injuring thirty others.
Shortly before dusk, eleven Navy Type 97 flying boats (Kawanishi H6Ks) of the Yokohama Air Group attacked Vunakanau airdrome. With their long parasol wings and slender fuselages curving upward toward twin vertical stabilizers, the four-engine seaplanes resembled giant dragonflies as they droned overhead. An estimated forty bombs were dropped, all of which missed Vunakanau by a wide margin due to the rapidly waning daylight. Twilight fell so quickly, in fact, that the antiaircraft gunners did not even fire at the formation.
The first raids on Rabaul made headlines in Japanese newspapers. One article, citing a report from Melbourne, stated that the “radio station” had been an objective of the attacks. But the bombers were clearly targeting the