“In May 1944, the USS England, a Small American Destroyer Escort, Did What No Other Ship in History Had Ever Done — It Hunted and Destroyed Six Japanese Submarines in Just 12 Days. At First, the U.S. Navy Thought It Was Luck

“In May 1944, the USS England, a Small American Destroyer Escort, Did What No Other Ship in History Had Ever Done — It Hunted and Destroyed Six Japanese Submarines in Just 12 Days. At First, the U.S. Navy Thought It Was Luck — Until They Saw How She Did It.”

Part 1: The Pacific, 1944

The Pacific Ocean was an endless battlefield.

By 1944, the Japanese Imperial Navy was losing ground, but its submarines — fast, silent, and deadly — still roamed the seas, sinking Allied ships and convoys without warning.

American supply lines to the Philippines and New Guinea were constantly under threat.

So when a new destroyer escort joined the U.S. Navy’s 7th Fleet that May, no one expected her to make history.

Her name was USS England (DE-635).

She was small, only 300 feet long, built for anti-submarine warfare — not for glory.

But her crew, led by Commander Walton Pendleton and Lieutenant (JG) William Cook, was determined to prove her worth.

They had no idea they were about to change naval warfare forever.

Part 2: The Mission

On May 18, 1944, the USS England received orders to patrol near the Solomon Islands, escorting convoys and hunting enemy submarines.

The ship’s sonar operators trained daily, learning to detect the faintest underwater sounds — the hum of a propeller, the echo of steel beneath the waves.

They were equipped with a new secret weapon: Hedgehog Projectors — a forward-firing anti-submarine system that launched 24 small bombs in an arc ahead of the ship.

Unlike depth charges, the Hedgehogs didn’t explode unless they hit something solid.

That meant one terrifying thing: silence could mean survival… or a direct hit.

Part 3: The First Encounter

On May 19, sonar picked up something faint — a moving contact, 180 feet below the surface.

“Possible submarine, bearing 215 degrees,” the sonar man called out.

The crew went silent.

Pendleton ordered the ship to turn toward the contact.

The USS England crept forward, engines humming low.

They launched the first salvo of Hedgehogs.

The projectiles soared, splashed into the water, and sank.

Then — silence.

Seconds turned to minutes.

Then—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three explosions rocked the sea.

Sonar confirmed it: the submarine had been hit.

The Japanese sub I-16, a supply vessel operating out of Truk Lagoon, was gone — destroyed with all hands.

The crew of the England cheered, but Pendleton just nodded.

“That’s one,” he said. “Let’s find the next.”

Part 4: The Hunt Continues

Three days later, another signal came from Allied intelligence.

American codebreakers had intercepted Japanese messages revealing a group of submarines moving toward the same area.

The England and two other destroyer escorts — George and Raby — were ordered to intercept.

On May 22, they picked up a sonar contact.

This time, the sub tried to dive deep and escape.

Pendleton ordered the engines to idle.

“We’ll drift. Let her think she’s safe.”

When sonar reacquired the target, the England pounced.

Another spread of Hedgehogs —
BOOM.

I-18 — gone.

The next day, they found RO-106.

Gone.

Three submarines in less than a week.

By now, word was spreading across the Pacific.

No ship had ever achieved this before.

The England’s crew started to realize they were doing something historic.

Part 5: The Rivalry

After the third kill, the captain of the George, one of the escorting ships, joked over the radio,

“Save some for us, England.”

Pendleton laughed.

“If you can catch one, she’s yours.”

But every time a sonar ping echoed across the ocean, it was the England that found the enemy first.

Her sonar crew had become legendary — they could hear what others couldn’t.

Lieutenant Cook spent hours with them, adjusting equipment sensitivity, calculating submarine movements like a chess master.

By May 26, another Japanese sub was detected — RO-108.

It fired torpedoes at the England, but all missed.

Moments later, the Hedgehogs found their mark.

Four submarines.

In just seven days.

Part 6: The Navy’s Reaction

When the report reached Admiral Ernest King, Chief of Naval Operations, he didn’t believe it.

“No single ship has sunk four subs in one week,” he said. “Check those reports again.”

But the confirmations came from multiple sources — wreckage, oil slicks, debris fields.

The Admiral sent a telegram:

“KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK. HOW MANY MORE DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET?”

Pendleton replied simply:

“AS MANY AS THEY SEND.”

Part 7: The Fifth Submarine

On May 30, radar picked up another contact — RO-105.

This one was fast, experienced, and cunning.

It evaded the first attack by diving to 500 feet.

For hours, the England pursued, playing a deadly game of sonar cat and mouse.

Finally, Cook noticed a pattern in the sonar echoes — the sub was zigzagging in predictable intervals.

He timed it. Calculated.

Then he ordered the Hedgehogs to fire where the sub would be, not where it was.

Seconds later, the sea erupted.

Debris surfaced.

The crew cheered again.

Five submarines in eleven days.

The impossible had become routine.

Part 8: The Final Hunt

By now, the Japanese command was furious — and desperate.

They ordered one last submarine, RO-107, to hunt down the England.

It never had the chance.

On May 31, sonar detected it first.

The England maneuvered carefully, dropping depth charges to force it upward.

The sub tried to flee toward the open Pacific.

Pendleton ordered full speed ahead.

The final volley of Hedgehogs was perfect.

A thunderous explosion split the surface.

RO-107 was gone.

Six submarines.

Twelve days.

The sea fell silent again.

Part 9: The Aftermath

When the USS England returned to port, her crew was greeted as heroes.

Admiral King himself sent a final message:

“There will always be an England in the United States Navy.”

Every man aboard received the Presidential Unit Citation, one of the highest honors given to a ship.

Historians would later call it the greatest anti-submarine record in naval history — a feat that has never been repeated.

But the crew didn’t boast.

When reporters asked Commander Pendleton how they did it, he said simply:

“Training, teamwork, and luck. Mostly teamwork.”

Part 10: The Legacy

The England continued to serve until May 1945, when she was struck by a Japanese kamikaze during the Battle of Okinawa.

The damage was devastating, but most of her crew survived.

She was too damaged to repair, and after the war, she was scrapped.

But her name lived on.

In 1963, the Navy commissioned a new ship: USS England (DLG-22) — in honor of the destroyer that became legend.

Part 11: The Human Side

Years later, surviving crew members gathered at reunions to tell their stories.

One of them, sonar operator William “Red” Johnson, once said:

“People called us heroes, but we were just scared kids listening to pings in the dark. Every time we heard that echo, we knew someone down there was listening, too.”

Another, Chief Cook, added:

“We didn’t cheer because they died. We cheered because we lived.”

Their humility was the truest reflection of what the England represented — not just victory, but humanity in the face of war.

Part 12: The Numbers That Stunned the World

In total, during those twelve days, the USS England fired over 500 Hedgehog projectiles, detected six enemy subs, and sank every single one.

Each submarine had a crew of 40–60 men.

Each was part of a coordinated effort to cut Allied supply lines.

By eliminating them, the England saved countless Allied lives and crippled Japan’s underwater operations in that sector.

To this day, no other ship in history has matched that record.

Not before.
Not after.

Part 13: The Message

In 1946, Admiral King wrote in his memoirs:

“The USS England should forever be remembered for her gallantry and skill. Her record stands as a benchmark for what determination, discipline, and courage can achieve — even when the odds seem impossible.”

And he was right.

Because England’s story wasn’t about luck or weaponry.

It was about people — a small crew who refused to fail.

They listened harder, thought faster, and fought smarter than anyone expected.

And they did it with humility.