The last Kamikaze pilot and the chief drunkard of the Imperial Japanese Navy: The story of vice admiral Matome Ugaki

On November 15, 1938, Matome Ugaki was promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral in the Imperial Japanese Navy. This ambitious officer, who hailed from a poor Japanese family with samurai traditions, quickly climbed the ranks of his career. Interestingly, however, he was not an exceptional strategist. His approach to warfare was an extension of samurai tradition, and the Rear Admiral himself failed to grasp the significance of modern weapons, such as aircraft carriers. Ugaki was one of those who mentally remained in the early 20th century, a time when Japan had humiliated Russia at sea. He championed the idea of large battleships, which he believed would continue to form the backbone of the Imperial Navy for a long time.

Subordinates nicknamed Ugaki the “Golden Mask” because he never smiled. However, he commanded respect through his diligence, conscientiousness, and zeal in carrying out orders. The less important fact was that, to put it bluntly, he was an average commander.

When Japan entered World War II, Ugaki was appointed Chief of Staff of the Combined Fleet under the famous Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, the architect of the attack on Pearl Harbor. It turned out that Yamamoto could not stand his new subordinate, as he quickly recognized the aforementioned traits in him. Additionally, the admiral referred to Matome Ugaki as a “drunkard” and this was not an unfounded insult. Ugaki considered proficiency in drinking alcohol one of the qualities of a good samurai and was fond of sake. At the same time, he was known for his so-called “strong tolerance.” One noteworthy example is the Japanese custom of kampai—the tradition of pouring and drinking sake together. When a participant had enough, it was considered polite to decline further drinks. Matome Ugaki was known for never refusing another cup of sake, even when, at some gatherings, he was served dozens of cups. Remarkably, he showed no signs of intoxication and would leave such events with a steady gait.

Yamamoto’s lack of trust in Ugaki was evident, among other things, in the fact that the samurai had no involvement in the attack on Pearl Harbor and only learned about it upon returning to duty from a short leave. By that time, Ugaki was already impressed by the suicidal attacks on American ships—specifically the use of miniature submarines during the offensive on Hawaii.

As Chief of Staff, Ugaki harbored a deep disdain for Americans, which at times bordered on irrationality. A striking example of this was the story of the American aircraft carrier Saratoga. During the war, Saratoga was damaged twice—first by the submarine I-6, after which it underwent six months of repairs, and then hit again by I-26 after returning to battle. A somewhat perplexed Ugaki hastily declared that Saratoga had been sunk the first time and claimed that Americans were producing new ships with the same names to replace destroyed ones—a notion that was, of course, absurd.

As the Pacific War progressed, Yamamoto and Ugaki found common ground in the idea of engaging the Americans in a decisive battle that would destroy their fleet. The chosen location for this plan was Midway Atoll. However, as we know, the battle’s outcome was disastrous for Japan, with the Imperial Navy losing four aircraft carriers.

Things did not go any better for the Japanese at Guadalcanal, where, after fierce fighting, the Americans ultimately secured control of the island. Ugaki openly blamed the ground forces for the defeat.

In November 1942, Matome Ugaki was promoted to the rank of Vice Admiral in the Imperial Fleet. This was during a time when the air offensive planned by him and Yamamoto turned out to be a complete failure. Vice Admiral Ugaki accused his subordinate officers of cowardice, claiming they commanded from positions too far from their troops. As a result, both Ugaki and Yamamoto began personally visiting frontline units. In April, news of their planned visit was intercepted by the Americans, who prepared an ambush for the two Mitsubishi G4M bombers and their six fighter escorts that formed the air convoy for the Japanese commanders. Sixteen P-38 fighters launched a brutal attack, focusing their fire on Yamamoto’s aircraft. The admiral’s plane attempted to evade the American pilots with a steep dive. Following behind was the second bomber carrying Ugaki, but the older aircraft began to shake, risking structural failure. The pilot reduced speed, only to be berated by the vice admiral, who ordered him to chase the commander’s plane at all costs. It was already too late, as Yamamoto’s bomber had crashed into the jungle, killing everyone on board, including the most brilliant strategist in the history of the Japanese Navy. Ugaki’s aircraft was also shot down, crashing into the sea. However, the vice admiral was fortunate to be thrown from the plane before it sank. Upon reaching land, he learned he was one of only three survivors of the attack.

Matome Ugaki mourned Yamamoto’s death in the same way a feudal rōnin grieved the loss of his lord. Like a rōnin, he also wished to die in battle and erase the shame he felt for surviving the engagement in which Isoroku Yamamoto was killed. After recovering from his injuries, Ugaki was quickly appointed commander of the 1st Battleship Division, which included the super-battleships Yamato and Musashi—the largest and heaviest battleships in history. In June 1944, Ugaki participated in the Battle of the Philippine Sea, where the Americans achieved a crushing victory over the Japanese fleet, inflicting enormous losses and effectively annihilating Japan’s naval aviation. Devastated, the vice admiral returned to Japan, where he indulged in drinking and revelry in the company of geishas.

Later, during the Battle of Leyte Gulf, Ugaki, commanding from the deck of the Yamato, witnessed the sinking of several ships by the Americans, including the Musashi, the Maya, and the flagship Atago. When Admiral Takeo Kurita, seeing the scale of the losses and the lack of hope for victory, ordered a retreat, Matome Ugaki viewed this as being deprived of the chance for a glorious death worthy of a samurai. He was transferred to the staff in Tokyo, and was subsequently tasked with organizing kamikaze units on Kyushu. It is said that during the nomination, the vice admiral, commander of the 5th Air Fleet, was drunk.

The actions of kamikaze pilots during World War II were covered in detail in a recent article. Suffice it to say that although the initial “divine wind” missions were unsuccessful, during the American invasion of Okinawa, 1,800 aircraft sent by Ugaki inflicted significant losses on the US Navy (218 American ships were damaged, and 36 were sunk). The vice admiral was prepared to send even more kamikaze into battle, but his plans would never come to fruition.

The end of World War II had come for the Empire of Japan. On August 15, 1945, Emperor Hirohito’s speech was broadcast over the radio, informing the nation of the necessity to accept the Potsdam Declaration, effectively signaling Japan’s surrender. Vice Admiral Matome Ugaki calmly listened to the broadcast and then made the final entry in his diary. In it, he took responsibility for the failures of the kamikaze pilots, who, with heroic courage, had tried to stop the enemy from reaching Japan’s doorstep. Ugaki noted that he had not yet received an official order to cease hostilities, so, in accordance with the spirit of Bushidō, he decided to die as a true samurai by carrying out a suicide attack on American warships.

Ugaki removed the insignias and decorations from his uniform, leaving only the ceremonial tantō short sword gifted to him by Admiral Yamamoto. He requested his final photographs to be taken, then took his place aboard his Yokosuka D4Y dive bomber, saluting his comrades before departure. Despite protests from some pilots, who argued that the vice admiral’s sacrifice was a futile waste of lives and equipment, 10 other aircraft and 22 individuals joined Ugaki on the mission (his bomber carried a crew of three). After takeoff, three planes immediately returned to base, citing “engine troubles,” though it was likely their crews had chosen to abandon the suicide mission.

His final message was transmitted on August 15 at 7:24 PM, reporting the beginning of a dive toward an American landing ship. Gunfire from the enemy vessel brought Vice Admiral Ugaki the honorable death he had long sought, fitting for a Japanese samurai. The sea later carried the body of the last kamikaze pilot—stripped of insignias but still bearing his sword—to the shores of Iheyajima Island.