“Swede’s intercept came at a strategically significant moment in the Pacific War, essentially salvaging the Allied offensive timetable.”

By Ted Edwards

IT WAS DURING the pivotal Oct. 26, 1942 carrier battle of the Santa Cruz Islands in the Solomons that one of the U.S. Navy’s best pilots of the Second World War earned his place in the history books.

While flying with the storied VF-10 “The Grim Reapers” squadron, Lt. Stanley “Swede” Vejtasa (VEY tuh suh), downed two Japanese Aichi D3A Type 99 Val dive-bombers attacking an already crippled flattop USS Hornet (CV 8). Later that same day, the 28-year-old Montana native splashed five B5N2 Kate torpedo bombers as they bored down on his own carrier USS Enterprise (CV 6). With his ammunition dwindling, Swede managed to set a sixth Kate afire, earning a probable kill. His Kate in flames, the doomed Japanese pilot deliberately dove the bird into the American destroyer USS Smith (DD 378), which absorbed the fiery crash and the subsequent torpedo explosion.

To put Swede’s intercept in context, Enterprise had already been hit twice and further battered with three damaging near misses. VF-10 skipper Lt. Cdr. Jimmy Flatley considered Swede’s elimination of at least six torpedo bombers as crucial to the Big E’s very survival. With Hornet mortally damaged and sunk early the next morning by the Japanese, beat up Enterprise remained the sole operational U.S. carrier left to defend Guadalcanal and strategic Henderson Field.

Flatley further understood that seven down in one mission was unprecedented, writing in Swede’s flight log, “Greatest single combat Fight Record in the history of Air Warfare. Congratulations.” Generally reserved about awarding medals, Flatley recognized the full significance of Swede’s intercept and did something commanders rarely get to do; he recommended the pilot for the Medal of Honor. Who was this aviator with the seemingly unpronounceable name?

In the first months of the war, flying Dauntless dive-bombers off USS Yorktown (CV 5), Swede had perfected the business of dive-bombing during raids on far-flung Japanese outposts.

In the early May Battle of the Coral Sea, Swede’s bomb helped sink Shoho, the first Japanese carrier to be lost. The next day, while at the controls of that same dive-bomber, Swede out-flew and outgunned three Japanese Mitsubishi A6M Zeros, at the time the most agile plane in the world flown by highly experienced Japanese pilots. Swede became the only naval aviator awarded Navy Crosses recognizing both accurate dive-bombing and dogfighting prowess.

Over the summer of 1942 Swede transitioned into Grumman Wildcat fighters as part of Jimmy Flatley’s VF-10 Grim Reapers. As they refined their tactics, Swede managed to outrage Jimmy Thach by openly challenging the famous aviation tactician’s celebrated beam defense or weave. By late October Swede was one of the most experienced pilots in a fledgling Air Group Ten aboard Enterprise. Their mission was to team with Hornet and confront a massive Japanese armada headed toward Guadalcanal, intent on wiping out the Marines and their Cactus Air Force.

For Swede, the real story at Santa Cruz began the afternoon before the shooting began, when he had no recourse but to follow orders he knew to be insane. Admiral Thomas Kinkaid, a first-time task force commander flew his flag aboard Enterprise, just arrived to team with Hornet when Admiral Halsey famously ordered Kinkaid to “Strike – Repeat – Strike.” Assigned as duty carrier, Enterprise was restricted to sending out a fan of searchers and providing a combat air patrol. When that was done Kinkaid, despite Hornet’s fully spotted and combat experienced strike force in view, rashly ordered the remainder of his inexperienced air group to form a strike force of eight fighters to be led by Swede, five Dauntless dive-bombers and seven Avenger torpedo bombers to attack a Japanese armada headed his way but still some 360 miles distant.

Listening to the admiral’s staff in the ready room, and knowing there was no way they could reach the Japanese, Swede foresaw nothing but trouble. He threw down his plotting board and within earshot of the admiral’s staff, loudly proclaimed, “The admiral is a stupid ass.”

Orders were orders. Off they went with Swede’s mutinous objections ringing in their ears. An hour after a late afternoon departure, Kinkaid was informed that American patrol planes had spooked the Japanese force north, away from any possible contact. Kinkaid declined to recall his errant strikers.

Swede and company flew their predictably empty search legs and beyond – a phantom goose chase. On their return flight Lt. Don Miller mysteriously leapt out of his Wildcat into the darkening twilight. When they reached Point Option under low clouds and in the dark, Enterprise was nowhere to be found. YE-ZB homing sets remained silent; Kinkaid had abandoned his strike force. Confusion abounded. When Dauntless pilots dropped their bombs for expanded flying time, two exploded, damaging a pair of SBDs, and forced them to ditch.

Things were getting crazier by the minute when Swede located the oil slick he had noticed during a morning combat air patrol. With the group behind him Swede tracked it back to the carrier. Sighting the Big E however did not signal the end of their trials. Swede was nearly killed when another Reaper landed simultaneously with him on the narrow carrier deck. Moments later, another Dauntless pilot ignored a wave-off and wrecked his plane and another. The debris-strewn deck forced three fuel-exhausted Avengers into the water. Though most pilots and aircrew were rescued, the needless disaster cost the like of one aviator, a crewman, four SBDs, three TBFs and one Wildcat. For Swede, Kinkaid’s decisions constituted criminal negligence.

Swede had returned the planes and pilots that would figure so large in the next day’s battle. Among the survivors were some of the most experienced and competent pilots in the air group. Along with Swede and his wingman and ace-to-be Ens. Edward “Whitey” Feightner, the list included Bombing Ten’s skipper Lt. Cdr. Jim Thomas, Torpedo Ten’s XO Lt. Albert P. “Scoofer” Coffin, and Cdr. Richard Gaines, the air group commander! Morale plummeted; who cared to serve as Kinkaid’s next expendable? And this on the battle’s eve. The next day Swede’s seven down arguably saved Enterprise and Kinkaid’s butt in the process.

What then of Flatley’s recommended Medal of Honor? Did Swede get one? No. In context, Swede’s tally certainly exceeded Medal of Honor recipient Butch O’Hare’s five enemy kills in defense of USS Lexington (CV 2). VB-10 pilot Hal Buell opined that Swede deserved the Medal of Honor for his flying at Coral Sea, let alone what he’d done at Santa Cruz, where he had completely outdone his or anyone else’s previous accomplishments. And Swede’s intercept came at a strategically significant moment in the Pacific War, essentially salvaging the Allied offensive timetable. So what became of Flatley’s recommendation?

Kinkaid, having repeatedly demonstrated flawed leadership at Santa Cruz, issued one last incomprehensible decision. Fearful of drawing attention to his own leadership failures, Kinkaid, to the utter amazement of all, downgraded Flatley’s Medal of Honor recommendation to a Distinguished Flying Cross. Admiral Halsey bumped it to a third Navy Cross.* The asterisk denotes that this ought to have been the Medal of Honor.

Ted Edwards is the author of Seven at Santa Cruz: The Life of Fighter Ace Stanley “Swede” Vejtasais. An historian whose oral history work with World War II aviators and other veterans of 20th century war is driven by a desire to understand the events via firsthand accounts, Edwards has written on Second World War aviators for Naval Aviation News.