June 19, 1944. It was a Monday morning, but for the guys sitting in the cockpits of F6F Hellcats, it didn't feel like a workday. It felt like history.
Radar operators aboard the USS Lexington and the rest of Task Force 58 watched their screens with widening eyes. "Massive bogies," they called out. Hundreds of Japanese planes were screaming toward the American fleet. What followed wasn't just a battle; it was a demolition. By the time the sun went down, the Imperial Japanese Navy’s carrier air power had essentially ceased to exist.
American pilots didn’t call it the Battle of the Philippine Sea. They called it The Great Marianas Turkey Shoot. Why? Because it was so incredibly lopsided that it felt like shooting birds in a farmyard.
It Wasn't Just About the Planes
A lot of people think the "Turkey Shoot" was just about the Grumman F6F Hellcat being a beast of a plane. Don't get me wrong, the Hellcat was a tank with wings. It could take a beating that would’ve disintegrated a Japanese Zero. But the real story is much darker for the Japanese.
By mid-1944, Japan was running out of their best resource: people.
The veteran pilots who had terrorized the Pacific in 1941 and 1942 were mostly dead. They were at the bottom of the Coral Sea or buried in the jungles of Guadalcanal. The kids Japan sent up in June 1944 were green. Some had barely 20 or 30 hours of flight time. Imagine being a teenager who just learned to drive, and suddenly you’re told to go win a Formula 1 race against a world champion. That was the Japanese situation.
On the flip side, American pilots were rolling in with 300+ hours of training. They had better tactics, better fuel, and—crucially—radar.
💡 You might also like: Percentage of Women That Voted for Trump: What Really Happened
The Day the Sky Turned to Lead
Vice Admiral Marc Mitscher’s Task Force 58 was a monster. We’re talking 15 carriers, 7 battleships, and nearly 900 aircraft. When Admiral Jisaburo Ozawa launched his first wave of 69 planes, American radar picked them up 150 miles out.
The Hellcats were already at altitude, waiting.
It was a slaughter. Lieutenant (j.g.) Alexander Vraciu, one of the legendary Navy aces, became the face of the day. In just eight minutes, he splashed six Japanese "Judy" dive bombers. There’s a famous photo of him on the deck of the Lexington afterward, holding up six fingers and grinning like a guy who just won the lottery. Honestly, for him, it probably felt like it.
The numbers are just staggering:
- Japan launched four massive raids throughout the day.
- By nightfall, over 300 Japanese aircraft were gone.
- The U.S. lost about 30 planes in actual combat.
Basically, for every American plane that went down in a dogfight, ten or twelve Japanese planes were falling out of the sky.
Submarines: The Silent Partners
While everyone talks about the dogfights, the U.S. submarine service was busy gutting the Japanese fleet from below.
📖 Related: What Category Was Harvey? The Surprising Truth Behind the Number
The USS Albacore found the Taihō, Ozawa’s brand-new flagship. They put a single torpedo into her. It didn’t sink her immediately, but it cracked the fuel tanks. Because the Japanese damage control teams were as inexperienced as their pilots, they tried to ventilate the ship by opening all the hatches. All they did was spread explosive gasoline fumes everywhere. A few hours later, a single spark turned the Taihō into a giant fireball.
Around the same time, the USS Cavalla spotted the Shōkaku—a veteran of the Pearl Harbor attack. Three torpedo hits later, she was headed for the bottom.
The "Mission Beyond Darkness"
The second day, June 20, was different. It was less of a "turkey shoot" and more of a desperate, long-range gamble.
Mitscher wanted to finish Ozawa off. He launched a strike late in the afternoon, even though he knew the pilots would have to fly back in total darkness. This was the "Mission Beyond Darkness."
They managed to sink the carrier Hiyō and damage several others, but the return trip was a nightmare. Pilots were running out of gas. They were trying to find tiny carrier decks in the middle of a pitch-black ocean. In a legendary move, Mitscher ordered the fleet to "turn on the lights." He risked exposing his ships to enemy subs just to give his boys a chance to find home.
The U.S. lost 80 planes that night, mostly due to ditching in the water after running out of fuel. But because the U.S. had excellent search-and-rescue, most of those pilots were fished out of the drink the next day.
👉 See also: When Does Joe Biden's Term End: What Actually Happened
Why the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot Still Matters
This battle broke the back of the Japanese Empire. Without carrier-based air cover, their surface fleet was vulnerable. The path to the Philippines was open. The airfields on Saipan and Guam were secured, which meant B-29 bombers could finally reach Tokyo.
What you can take away from this history:
- Training over Tech: The Hellcat was great, but the training of the pilots was what truly won the day. Skill is the ultimate force multiplier.
- The Power of Intelligence: Radar changed everything. Knowing the enemy is coming before they even see you is the greatest advantage you can have.
- Leadership Risks: Mitscher’s decision to turn on the lights is still studied in military circles. It was a massive risk, but it saved his pilots and cemented their loyalty.
If you want to dig deeper into the actual logistics, look into the VT proximity fuse. It was a top-secret piece of tech used by American anti-aircraft gunners during this battle that made their shells explode when they got near a plane, not just on impact. It’s one of the "hidden" reasons why so few Japanese planes even made it past the outer screen of destroyers.
The battle wasn't just a win; it was the moment the Pacific War became a foregone conclusion. Japan never recovered its naval air strength, eventually leading to the desperate Kamikaze tactics seen later at Leyte Gulf and Okinawa. To understand the Turkey Shoot is to understand how the U.S. industrial and training machine finally overwhelmed a once-unstoppable foe.
The next step for any history buff is to look into the Battle of Leyte Gulf, which happened just four months later. It was the largest naval battle in history and the final "curtain call" for the Imperial Japanese Navy's surface fleet.