When it comes to the most powerful battleships ever constructed, Japan’s Yamato class is in a league of its own—a sheer engineering wonder that was meant to own the day in a war in the Pacific that was quickly spiraling out of control. Yamato was more than a warship; it was a testament to the conviction of Imperial Japan that naval supremacy could be decided by a single, massive battle. But as would be revealed in history, Yamato’s tale became a caution against depending on yesterday’s technology for tomorrow’s fight.
The rationale for constructing Yamato was ambitious but straightforward. Japan knew that it could never outbuild America and Great Britain in terms of the quantity of warships, so it was instead expecting to possess better quality ships. Historian James Holland summed it up best: if you can’t outnumber your enemy, outgun them.
Yamato was designed as a battleship so formidable that it would be capable of attacking several foes simultaneously and emerging victorious in the sort of enormous sea battles that had determined previous wars, such as the Battle of Tsushima in 1905. The Japanese planners foresaw some ultimate, climactic struggle in the West Pacific somewhere where Yamato would serve as an anchor to a fleet able to halt American thrusts and give Japan control of vital resources in Asia.
By brute intent, Yamato was gorgeous. Its 18.1-inch guns could shoot 3,219-pound shells 25 miles—a distance no other battleship was capable of. Its armor was equally impressive: 22,534 tons of steel, a 16-inch-plus main belt, deck armor to 9.1 inches, and turret faces of 26 inches of hardened steel. Tests carried out by post-war American combatants revealed that Yamato’s turrets could only be penetrated at point-blank range, an unlikely scenario in real battles. Against other battleships, Yamato was nearly invincible, a nightmare to any opposition fleet in a conventional gun duel between battleships.
American Iowa-class battleships, on the other hand, were more rapid—33 knots as against 27.5 for Yamato—but lighter-armored and a bit lighter 16-inch guns. Iowa’s main belt was 12 inches to as little as 1.5 inches above the deck, and 19.7-inch turret armor. In theory, Yamato could have sunk an Iowa when the American ship was attempting to flee, on the grounds of longer range and firepower.
But Yamato’s oath never came to strategic fruition. Japan lost valuable opportunities, including the failure to cripple Pearl Harbor fuel tanks and repair yards, and Yamato was not prepared in time for possible assaults on American petroleum production or the Panama Canal.
If the ship had been sent in those cases—or if the Japanese had invaded British and Dutch colonies instead of the United States—the Pacific War history could have been radically different. But those were “what ifs” of history.
The true game-changer was the shape in which naval warfare was changing. The aircraft carrier became the weapon of war, rendering battleships such as Yamato ever more obsolete. Planes from carriers could attack from several hundred miles away, evading armor and guns that made battleships such massive juggernauts.
Pearl Harbor, Midway, and the Philippine Sea showed the full ferocity of air power. American fighter planes such as the F6F Hellcat, F4U Corsair, and P-38 Lightning broke Japanese air superiority, leaving Yamato open to relentless air attacks. The discovery of Torpex, double the power of TNT as an explosive, made its anti-torpedo defenses almost obsolete overnight.
Yamato’s combat history bears testament to this evolution. Its opposite number, Musashi, was sunk at Leyte Gulf in October 1944 by American air power, and more than a thousand Japanese sailors were lost. Yamato itself was sunk on April 7, 1945, during an attempt to shell American ships off the coast of Okinawa. More than 3,000 sailors were killed in the air raid, and only 269 survived. American casualties were negligible—ten planes and twelve aircrews.
Lastly, Yamato was not captured due to technical shortcomings; it was a victim of strategic errors and a surprise rise in new weapons technology. The era of the battleship came to an end not as a result of a classic fleet action, but with the roar of airplane engines and the burst of torpedoes. Yamato is a poignant reminder of the perils of preparing for the last war rather than the next one—a lesson as timely today as it was eighty years ago.