What If The USS Indianapolis Was Never Sunk?

The Actual History

The USS Indianapolis, a Portland-class heavy cruiser of the United States Navy, played a pivotal role in World War II's Pacific Theater before meeting a tragic end. Commissioned in 1932, the vessel served as the flagship of the U.S. Fifth Fleet and participated in numerous campaigns, including the Aleutian Islands, Gilbert Islands, Marshall Islands, Marianas, Western Carolines, and Iwo Jima. The ship earned 10 battle stars for its service during the war.

In July 1945, the Indianapolis was assigned a top-secret mission of extraordinary historical significance. After undergoing repairs at Mare Island Naval Shipyard in California, the ship was tasked with transporting components of the "Little Boy" atomic bomb—the first nuclear weapon to be used in warfare—to the U.S. Army Air Force Base on Tinian Island. The Indianapolis departed on July 16, 1945, the same day the first atomic bomb was successfully tested in New Mexico, and delivered its classified cargo on July 26.

After completing this crucial mission, the Indianapolis was ordered to join the USS Idaho in training exercises near Leyte Gulf in the Philippines. The ship left Tinian Island and stopped at Guam before proceeding toward Leyte on July 28. Captain Charles B. McVay III was instructed to follow a direct route, despite the presence of Japanese submarines in the area. Critically, the Indianapolis was not provided with a destroyer escort, which was standard practice in these waters.

At 12:14 a.m. on July 30, 1945, the Indianapolis was struck by two torpedoes fired by the Japanese submarine I-58, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto. The first torpedo blew away the bow of the ship, while the second hit near midship on the starboard side, causing catastrophic damage to the vessel's communications equipment. Within just 12 minutes, the ship sank, taking approximately 300 of its 1,195 crew members with it.

The remaining 890 men were left floating in the open ocean with few lifeboats, limited supplies, and no way to communicate their distress. In one of the most horrific episodes of World War II, the survivors faced exposure, dehydration, saltwater poisoning, and shark attacks while adrift for nearly five days. The Navy only became aware of the disaster when survivors were spotted by chance by Lieutenant Wilbur C. Gwinn, piloting a PV-1 Ventura bomber on routine patrol. By the time rescue operations concluded on August 8, only 316 men had survived. The rest—approximately 879 crewmen—had perished in the sinking or during the five days in the water, making it the greatest single loss of life at sea in U.S. Navy history.

In the aftermath, Captain McVay was court-martialed and convicted of "hazarding his ship by failing to zigzag," despite testimony from Commander Hashimoto that zigzagging would not have saved the ship. McVay was the only U.S. Navy captain to be court-martialed for losing his ship during the war. The conviction followed him throughout his life, and he ultimately committed suicide in 1968. After decades of efforts by survivors and others, McVay was posthumously exonerated by the U.S. Congress and President Bill Clinton in 2000.

The Indianapolis tragedy led to significant changes in Navy protocols, including the implementation of the "Movement Report System" to track vessels more effectively and improvements in rescue procedures. The ship and its crew's story has been immortalized in popular culture, most famously in the 1975 film "Jaws," in which the fictional character Quint delivers a monologue about surviving the Indianapolis disaster.

The Point of Divergence

What if the USS Indianapolis had never been sunk? In this alternate timeline, we explore a scenario where the heavy cruiser successfully completed its journey from Tinian to Leyte Gulf in late July 1945, avoiding its tragic encounter with the Japanese submarine I-58.

Several plausible factors could have prevented the catastrophe:

First, the USS Indianapolis could have been assigned a destroyer escort for its journey. In the actual timeline, despite operating in waters known to contain enemy submarines, the Indianapolis traveled unescorted—an unusual decision that left it vulnerable. Had naval command properly assessed the threat level or followed standard protocol, an accompanying destroyer's sonar might have detected the approaching I-58, allowing both ships to take evasive action.

Alternatively, a slight change in the Indianapolis's route or timing could have prevented the fatal encounter. Had the ship departed from Guam a few hours earlier or later, or been directed along a different course to Leyte, the paths of the cruiser and the Japanese submarine might never have intersected. Naval intelligence might have received updated information about Japanese submarine movements that prompted a route change.

A third possibility involves weather conditions. Different weather might have affected visibility for both the Indianapolis and I-58. In poor visibility, the Japanese submarine might have failed to spot the American cruiser. Conversely, better visibility might have allowed the Indianapolis's lookouts to spot the submarine's periscope, giving them time to evade.

Finally, a mechanical issue with the I-58's torpedoes could have occurred. Had the torpedoes malfunctioned—not uncommon during World War II—they might have missed their target or failed to detonate, allowing the Indianapolis to continue its journey unharmed.

In our alternate timeline, we'll explore the scenario where naval command, recognizing the strategic importance of the Indianapolis (having just delivered atomic bomb components) and aware of enemy submarine activity, assigned a destroyer escort that accompanied the cruiser from Guam. The presence of this escort deterred Lieutenant Commander Hashimoto from attacking or allowed early detection of the I-58, enabling both American vessels to take successful evasive action. The Indianapolis thus safely reached Leyte Gulf on August 1, 1945, with its crew of nearly 1,200 men intact and ready for their next assignment in the Pacific Theater.

Immediate Aftermath

Continued Service in the Final Weeks of War

In this alternate timeline, the USS Indianapolis arrives safely at Leyte Gulf on August 1, 1945, where it joins the USS Idaho for training exercises as originally planned. Captain Charles McVay and his crew, unaware of how narrowly they avoided disaster, continue their duties without interruption. The ship maintains its status as a flagship vessel in the Pacific Fleet during these final weeks of the war.

When the atomic bombs are dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki on August 6 and August 9 respectively, the Indianapolis and its crew—who had transported crucial components of the first bomb—receive the news with mixed emotions. Many feel relief that the war might soon end, while others grapple with their role in delivering a weapon of unprecedented destructive power.

After Japan announces its surrender on August 15, the Indianapolis is tasked with supporting occupation operations. Given its size, speed, and symbolic importance as the vessel that transported the atomic bomb components, naval command assigns the cruiser to Tokyo Bay. There, on September 2, 1945, the Indianapolis is present alongside the USS Missouri during the formal Japanese surrender ceremony, adding another historic chapter to the ship's distinguished wartime service.

Recognition of the Ship's Secret Mission

With the war's conclusion and the public announcement of the atomic bombs, the Indianapolis's secret mission transporting the uranium and components for the "Little Boy" bomb becomes declassified. In this alternate timeline, the ship and crew receive immediate recognition for their role in this pivotal historical event, rather than having this accomplishment overshadowed by tragedy.

President Harry S. Truman acknowledges the Indianapolis's contribution in a special commendation, noting that "the successful and timely delivery of critical materials by the USS Indianapolis contributed directly to the prompt conclusion of the war against Japan." This recognition elevates the ship's profile in immediate post-war America.

Captain McVay, instead of facing court-martial and disgrace, is decorated for his wartime service, including the successful completion of the top-secret atomic bomb transport mission. His career continues to advance in the post-war Navy, with the Indianapolis disaster never becoming part of his legacy.

Post-War Naval Reorganization

As the U.S. Navy undergoes significant downsizing following the end of World War II, decisions must be made about which vessels to maintain in active service, which to place in reserve, and which to decommission entirely. In our actual timeline, the sinking of the Indianapolis removed it from these considerations.

In this alternate timeline, naval planners assess the Indianapolis—a pre-war heavy cruiser approaching 15 years of service—within the context of modern naval requirements. Despite its historical significance, the ship's age and design make it less valuable than newer vessels in the emerging Cold War environment. By early 1946, the decision is made to place the Indianapolis in the Pacific Reserve Fleet rather than maintaining it in active service.

Before being mothballed, the Indianapolis completes a "Victory Tour" of major U.S. port cities on both coasts. This tour serves dual purposes: celebrating the ship's wartime accomplishments (particularly its secret atomic mission) and participating in the broader public relations campaign supporting post-war naval funding. Thousands of Americans visit the vessel during these port calls, establishing the Indianapolis as a recognized name in American military history, but for very different reasons than in our timeline.

Impact on Submarine Warfare Doctrine

Without the Indianapolis disaster highlighting weaknesses in naval protocols, certain reforms are delayed or take different forms. The Movement Report System, implemented in our timeline directly in response to the failure to notice the Indianapolis's absence, is eventually established through a more gradual review process of wartime communications procedures.

Similarly, improvements in rescue protocols and equipment developed in response to the Indianapolis tragedy evolve more slowly. The standard practice of assigning destroyer escorts to large vessels in potentially hostile waters is reinforced by several near-misses with remaining rogue Japanese submarines that continued operating after the official surrender, rather than by the Indianapolis incident.

Lieutenant Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto and the crew of I-58 surrender along with other Japanese forces. In post-war interviews, Hashimoto mentions the American heavy cruiser that escaped his submarine's attack in late July 1945, creating a minor historical footnote rather than being connected to one of the war's most tragic naval disasters. Without his testimony at Captain McVay's court-martial (which never occurs in this timeline), Hashimoto remains an obscure figure in naval history.

Long-term Impact

The USS Indianapolis in the Cold War Era

By the early 1950s, as Cold War tensions escalate, the U.S. Navy reassesses its reserve fleet. In this alternate timeline, the Indianapolis—preserved in the mothball fleet rather than resting at the bottom of the Philippine Sea—becomes the subject of modernization debates.

Modernization vs. Retirement

Naval planners evaluate whether to modernize the now-aging cruiser for Cold War service. The ship's historic significance as the vessel that transported the first atomic bomb components gives it symbolic value, but practical military considerations ultimately prevail. By 1954, with newer guided missile cruisers entering service, the decision is made to decommission the Indianapolis permanently rather than invest in its extensive modernization.

Memorial Ship Status

Instead of scrapping the vessel, however, a campaign led by former crew members and supported by Indiana politicians secures a special designation for the Indianapolis. In 1958, the ship is donated to the state of Indiana to become a permanent memorial and museum ship, anchored in the Port of Indiana on Lake Michigan. This floating museum becomes one of the first of its kind, predating similar preservation efforts for other historic naval vessels.

Through the following decades, the "USS Indianapolis Museum" educates millions of visitors about World War II, the Pacific Theater, and the dawn of the atomic age. The ship's unique connection to both conventional naval warfare and the beginning of nuclear warfare makes it a compelling educational site throughout the Cold War era.

The Survivors' Different Legacy

In our actual timeline, the Indianapolis survivors formed a uniquely close-knit group, bound together by their shared trauma and decades-long fight for their captain's exoneration. In this alternate timeline, the approximately 1,200 crew members who served on the Indianapolis during its atomic delivery mission follow different life paths.

Veterans' Organizations and Public Memory

While many crew members maintain connections through standard military reunions, they lack the singular defining trauma that united the survivors in our timeline. Rather than focusing on preserving the memory of a tragedy, their organizations emphasize their role in ending World War II through their connection to the atomic bomb mission.

As the debate over the ethical implications of the atomic bombings intensifies during the 1960s and beyond, former Indianapolis crew members find themselves in an unusual historical position. Some become prominent voices in discussions about nuclear weapons, offering firsthand perspectives as participants in the dawn of the atomic age. Others distance themselves from this legacy, uncomfortable with their connection to weapons of such destructive power.

Historical Recognition vs. Popular Culture

Without the dramatic story of survival against impossible odds—the shark attacks, the five days adrift, the accidental discovery of survivors—the Indianapolis maintains a different place in American memory. The ship becomes primarily known for its atomic mission rather than its tragic end.

Consequently, the famous USS Indianapolis monologue delivered by the fictional character Quint in the 1975 film "Jaws" never exists in this timeline. The absence of this popular culture reference significantly alters public awareness of the vessel. While military historians and those interested in World War II or nuclear history are familiar with the ship, it lacks the broader name recognition it gained in our timeline through its association with both tragedy and popular entertainment.

Captain McVay's Alternate Fate

In this timeline, Captain Charles McVay III never faces the court-martial that damaged his reputation and contributed to his suicide in 1968. Instead, his naval career continues after the war.

Professional Legacy

McVay serves in several administrative positions during the immediate post-war period. Though he never reaches the rank of admiral (a promotion that might have been in his future before the Indianapolis incident in our timeline), he retires honorably in the mid-1950s with the rank of rear admiral.

His papers and recollections become valuable resources for historians studying the Pacific War and the atomic bomb delivery. McVay lives into the late 1980s, occasionally giving interviews and participating in commemorative events at the Indianapolis museum ship. His memoir, published in 1975, focuses primarily on his ship's role in the Pacific campaigns and the historic atomic bomb transport mission, providing valuable firsthand accounts of these pivotal historical events.

Impact on Naval Safety Protocols

Without the Indianapolis disaster serving as a catalyst, naval communication and safety protocols evolve differently in the post-war period.

Gradual Evolution vs. Immediate Reform

The Movement Report System and other tracking mechanisms develop more gradually through routine reviews of naval procedures rather than in direct response to tragedy. By the 1960s, the integration of more advanced communications technology renders many of the World War II-era protocols obsolete regardless of whether the Indianapolis disaster occurred.

Modern naval emergency response procedures, particularly those related to sailors abandoning ship in open ocean conditions, develop through different catalysts. Without the specific lessons learned from the Indianapolis survivors about shark deterrence, exposure injuries, and psychological effects of prolonged survival situations, certain aspects of naval survival training take longer to incorporate these elements.

Legacy in Nuclear History

Perhaps the most significant long-term difference in this alternate timeline is the USS Indianapolis's place in nuclear history. Rather than being remembered primarily for its tragic end, the vessel becomes inextricably linked with the beginning of the atomic age.

Educational Impact

The preserved Indianapolis serves as a physical connection to the Manhattan Project and the decision to use atomic weapons. School groups visiting the museum ship learn about both conventional naval warfare and the momentous transition to the nuclear era that the ship helped facilitate.

During the height of the Cold War, the Indianapolis museum becomes a site for debate about nuclear weapons and policy. Anti-nuclear protesters occasionally target the ship with demonstrations, while military commemorations emphasize the lives saved by ending the war without an invasion of Japan.

Historical Significance in the 21st Century

By our present day (2025) in this alternate timeline, the USS Indianapolis has been preserved as a museum ship for over 65 years. After extensive restoration efforts in the early 2000s, it remains one of the few accessible tangible connections to the delivery of the first atomic weapons.

Historians in this timeline view the Indianapolis as a vital piece of both military and scientific history—the crucial link between the scientific development of the atomic bomb at Los Alamos and its military deployment at Hiroshima. The ship's preservation allows modern visitors to stand on the actual deck that carried the components of "Little Boy" across the Pacific, creating a powerful historical connection that doesn't exist in our timeline where the vessel lies in the depths of the Philippine Sea.

Expert Opinions

Dr. Richard Harding, Professor of Naval History at Kings College London, offers this perspective: "Had the USS Indianapolis survived its journey to Leyte Gulf, we would likely see a fascinating inversion of its historical significance. In our timeline, the Indianapolis is remembered primarily for its tragic sinking and the survival ordeal that followed, with its atomic mission as a historical footnote. In an alternate timeline where the ship survived, it would be remembered primarily for its role in delivering atomic bomb components, with its subsequent career as a footnote. This demonstrates how historical memory often fixates on dramatic endings rather than strategic contributions. The Indianapolis museum ship would likely have become a lightning rod for debates about nuclear weapons in ways that the sunken vessel never could."

Commander Sarah Liu, USN (Ret.), Naval Safety Systems Analyst, notes: "The tragedy of the USS Indianapolis catalyzed significant reforms in naval communication and rescue protocols that otherwise might have taken years to implement. Without this disaster, the U.S. Navy would still have eventually developed similar systems, but likely through a more gradual, bureaucratic process rather than in direct response to a catastrophic failure. The most significant difference would be in survival training. The Indianapolis survivors' experiences with shark encounters and group survival tactics provided invaluable data that shaped modern naval survival training. Without these lessons—paid for at terrible cost—certain aspects of modern survival protocols might have developed differently or been delayed until another incident provided similar insights."

Dr. Thomas Westfield, Curator of Military History at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, provides this assessment: "The preservation of the USS Indianapolis as a museum ship would have created a profoundly different public memory of both the vessel and America's entry into the atomic age. In our timeline, the Indianapolis story is primarily one of human tragedy and survival—an intimate, personal narrative immortalized in popular culture. In a timeline where the ship survived to become a museum, its story would be more institutional and technological, focused on its role in weapons delivery rather than human endurance. This physical preservation would have provided historians with an invaluable research resource while simultaneously serving as a complex memorial to both the conventional war in the Pacific and the beginning of the nuclear era. The ship would stand as a three-dimensional historical document in ways that written records of its sinking cannot."