1945: One month after V-E Day, a naval disaster killed 880

The Secret Mission

On July 16, 1945, the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis departed San Francisco on a classified mission so urgent that Captain Charles McVay III received sealed orders he could open only at sea. The ship carried components of "Little Boy," the atomic bomb destined for Hiroshima—specifically, the uranium-235 projectile and target assembly that would create the weapon's critical mass. The Indianapolis made the 5,000-mile journey to Tinian Island in the Marianas in just ten days, shattering speed records and arriving on July 26. After offloading its cargo, the ship received orders to proceed to Leyte Gulf in the Philippines for training exercises before the planned invasion of Japan. No one aboard knew they had just delivered the weapon that would end the war, or that their own voyage would become one of the Pacific Theater's final tragedies.

Four Minutes to Midnight

Shortly after midnight on July 30, 1945, the Indianapolis was steaming unescorted through the Philippine Sea when Japanese submarine I-58, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto, fired a spread of six torpedoes. Two struck the starboard side. The first blew away the bow, destroying the forward compartments and killing dozens instantly. The second hit near the fuel tanks, triggering a massive explosion that knocked out all power and communications. Captain McVay, thrown from his bunk, found his ship already listing heavily with no way to radio for help. Within twelve minutes, the Indianapolis rolled to starboard and sank bow-first, taking approximately 300 men down with her. Roughly 900 sailors made it into the water alive, but the nightmare had only begun. Because the ship had been traveling under radio silence and its sinking went unreported, no one in the Navy knew the Indianapolis was missing.

Four Days in the Sharks

The survivors floated in groups scattered across miles of ocean, many without life jackets, clinging to debris and floating nets. Daytime temperatures exceeded 100 degrees; at night, men shivered uncontrollably in the tropical water. Dehydration set in within hours, and by the second day, saltwater-induced delirium drove some sailors to drink seawater, which accelerated their deaths. Oceanic whitetip sharks, attracted by blood and thrashing, circled constantly and attacked individuals who drifted from the groups. Estimates vary, but historians believe sharks killed between 50 and 150 men during the ordeal. The Navy didn't realize the Indianapolis was missing until August 2, when a routine personnel check in Leyte revealed the ship had never arrived. On August 3, a Lockheed Ventura bomber on patrol spotted the survivors by chance. Of the roughly 900 who survived the sinking, only 316 were pulled from the water alive. It remains the deadliest loss of life from a single U.S. Navy ship in history.

The Court-Martial That Haunted Decades

In November 1945, the Navy court-martialed Captain McVay for hazarding his ship by failing to zigzag—a defensive maneuver meant to complicate submarine targeting. In an extraordinary move, the Navy flew Commander Hashimoto from Japan to testify; he stated under oath that zigzagging would have made no difference given the attack conditions. McVay was nevertheless convicted, though his sentence was remitted and he continued his naval career. The verdict stunated the survivors, who knew McVay had received inadequate intelligence—Naval Intelligence had intercepted and decoded messages from I-58 but failed to warn ships in the area. McVay retired in 1949, but hate mail from victims' families haunted him for decades. In 1968, he took his own life. Survivors campaigned for exoneration, and in 2000, Congress passed a resolution stating that McVay's record should reflect that he was exonerated for the loss of the Indianapolis. The Navy cleared his record in 2001, fifty-five years after the court-martial.