The Kikka itself was a sleek, compact aircraft with a design that reflected both German influence as well as Japanese adaptation to local resources and constraints.
The Second World War was a period of dynamism and destruction. The Axis Powers—Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan, and Fascist Italy—were defined by their aggressiveness and, in the case of Germany and Japan, their technological prowess. Everyone thinks of Germany when they think about high-technology in World War II.
The Nazi armies were, at that time, the pinnacle of military innovation—though their inability to sustain that innovation meant that their grandiose projects were sometimes misplaced. Tokyo, however, is often overlooked for its own remarkable ingenuity. After all, the Empire of Japan pioneered aircraft carrier technology and tactics that led to the successful strike on Pearl Harbor.
Japan also had an impressive air warfare capability, as demonstrated repeatedly by the Mitsubishi Corporation’s A6M2 Zero warplane. This advanced Japanese engineering capability continued to be demonstrated until the closing weeks of the Pacific Theater of WWII.
When the Americans ultimately entered Japan following the surrender and began to take stock of all the leftover weapons and technologies in Japan, there were a handful that simply stunned them—so much so that many of these systems were packed up and shipped back to the United States, where military scientists there studied them in greater detail.
Understanding Japanese Technology
Nearly every World War II history buff knows about Hitler’s jet powered warplane, the Messerschmitt Me 262. Indeed, it was the first operational jet fighter in history. But the Japanese, inspired by their Axis partners, went about developing their own jet fighter. In the waning months of WWII, Japan’s military engineers embarked on an ambitious and innovative project to develop the country’s first jet-powered aircraft, the Nakajima Kikka.
Officially designated the “Special Attacker Kikka” (Orange Blossom), this aircraft was created out of a desperate need to counter what was by the time of its inception the Allied powers’ overwhelming air superiority. Although the Kikka never saw combat and its development was ultimately cut short by Tokyo’s surrender in 1945, it remains a fascinating chapter in aviation history.
In 1944, the Japanese naval attache in Berlin gained access to the Luftwaffe’s Messerschmitt Me 262 schematics and details about that plane’s unique jet engines. The Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN), recognizing the potential of jet propulsion to revolutionize aerial combat, tasked the Nakajima Aircraft Company, a leading state-backed manufacturer, with designing Japan’s first jet-powered aircraft that would serve as a fast-attack bomber or interceptor.
The Kikka officially entered development in September 1944 under the leadership of engineers Kazuo Ohno and Kenichi Matsumura. Unlike the German Me 262, a sophisticated twin-engine fighter, the Kikka was meant to be a simpler—and cheaper—single-seat aircraft optimized for speed and easy production.
The IJN viewed the bird as a “special attacker,” meaning it was intended for kamikaze attacks. Indeed, the Kikka’s development was a race against time, as Japan sought to deploy their advanced weapons to stem the onslaught of the Allied advance. Of course, this was a fruitless endeavor—just as was the case with Germany’s wünderwaffe.
By the time these exotic technologies were coming online, the capability to mass produce them and use them to truly turn the tide of war back in their favor was gone. This explains why the most Tokyo could hope for with these new, technologically advanced warplanes was to use them as suicide planes.
The Kikka Comes to Life
The Kikka itself was a sleek, compact aircraft with a design that reflected both German influence as well as Japanese adaptation to local resources and constraints. The airframe featured a straight-wing configuration, a single vertical stabilizer, and a streamlined fuselage.
Ohno and Matsumura added a folding wing component to reduce the overall size of these planes. This was a necessary feature, allowing for the plane to be concealed in caves or tunnels. Given the intense bombings the Allies had inflicted on critical Japanese infrastructure, hiding the Kikka aircraft in concealed positions was the only practical way to maintain them.
Two Ishikawajima-Harima Ne-20 turbojet engines powered the Kikka. These were Japan’s first domestically produced jet engines. These engines were reverse-engineered from limited data on the German BMW 003 turbojet, with Japanese engineers overcoming significant challenges to adapt the design using available materials. Each Ne-20 engine produced approximately 1,047 pounds of thrust—modest compared to contemporary Allied or even German jets, but sufficient to propel the Kikka to an estimated top speed of around 432 miles per hour. The aircraft’s range was about 621 miles. Kikka’s armaments were minimal, typically consisting of a single Type Five 30mm cannon or a pair of machine guns, reflecting the primary role as a bomber rather than a dogfighter.
On August 7, 1945, just days before Japan’s surrender, the Kikka made its maiden flight at Kisarazu Naval Air Base, piloted by Lieutenant Commander Susumu Takaoka. The flight was brief, lasting about 20 minutes, and was marred by issues with the rocket-assisted takeoff (RATO) units, which were used to compensate for the Ne-20 engines’ limited thrust.
A second flight was conducted on August 11, but further testing was halted when Japan officially surrendered on August 15, 1945, following the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. At the time, a second prototype was under construction, and plans existed for additional variants, including a two-seat trainer and a fighter version, but none of these progressed beyond the drawing board.
What Can America Learn from the Kikka?
After the war, the surviving prototype was seized by the US military and shipped to the United States for evaluation at the Patuxent River Naval Air Station in Maryland. American engineers studied the aircraft, noting its advanced design but also its limitations, such as the underpowered engines and rudimentary construction compared to Allied jets, like the Gloster Meteor or the Lockheed P-80 Shooting Star. The Kikka was later scrapped, though some of its components, such as the Ne-20 engine, are preserved in museums, including the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C.
Japan and Germany were both highly advanced military powers when the war began. Despite their clear technological prowess—and vast superiority in key areas—their inability to reliably produce and field these radical technologies made those innovations militarily insignificant. All the innovative concepts in the world couldn’t save these countries from the onslaught against countries like the United States and Soviet Union, which possessed latent industrial might that had been spurred into overdrive by the war.
There’s a lesson for modern America here. The United States prides itself on its military innovation—albeit at extremely high costs. But the defense industrial base of the United States today is ailing. High-concept military technologies do not win wars; mass production at cost in a timely, reliable manner does. One hopes that the Pentagon will internalize this lesson before it is too late.
About the Author: Brandon J. Weichert
Brandon J. Weichert, a Senior National Security Editor at The National Interest as well as a contributor at Popular Mechanics, who consults regularly with various government institutions and private organizations on geopolitical issues. Weichert’s writings have appeared in multiple publications, including the Washington Times, National Review, The American Spectator, MSN, the Asia Times, and countless others. His books include Winning Space: How America Remains a Superpower, Biohacked: China’s Race to Control Life, and The Shadow War: Iran’s Quest for Supremacy. His newest book, A Disaster of Our Own Making: How the West Lost Ukraine is available for purchase wherever books are sold. He can be followed via Twitter @WeTheBrandon.
Image: Wikimedia Commons.
