War Stories II

by Oliver L. North

  All across the Pacific, Emperor Hirohito’s time was running out. Fighting the Americans and their allies over the past three years had taken a huge toll on the Imperial Army, Navy, and air forces. They were out of nearly everything—fuel, ships, aircraft, munitions—and each day they were running lower and lower on their most essential war component: the Japanese fighting man.

  The American public got behind their men in uniform, now numbering sixteen million troops fighting Hitler and Tojo (including a smaller number of noncombatant women in the WACs, WAVEs, and WAFs). The tide of war in Europe had turned in the spring of 1945, when the Allies had Hitler on the defensive, but the war wasn’t over in that theater just yet. The Joint Chiefs had planned for an all-out offensive against Nazi aggression to end the war in Europe in weeks rather than months.

  If Germany could be forced to surrender, taking Okinawa could force an unconditional surrender from the Japanese as well. Okinawa’s proximity to Japan’s main islands was strategically critical to the Allied invasion plan, so the Joint Chiefs were willing to risk huge casualties in order to capture it.

  A year earlier, the Joint Chiefs had considered Iwo Jima and Okinawa as targets for a final takeover—especially Okinawa. Not just because the tiny island was within striking distance of the Home Islands of Japan by American B-24s and B-25s, but also because of the psychological value of capturing a piece of real estate that for 5,000 years had never known any other ruler but Japan. With the acquisition of these two islands, the military planners in Washington felt they could move the war in the Pacific to a quicker end.

  Capturing Okinawa would set the stage for the invasion of Japan. Owning Iwo Jima would help too, but it was more than 750 miles from the Japanese mainland. Okinawa was closer and would give the Americans a decided edge. Control of these islands cut Japan off from her crucial refueling supplies and repair stations and made them available to American ships instead.

  America’s strategy of “island-hopping” had created stepping-stones for its forces to jump from island to island, each step bringing them closer to Japan. Okinawa was the final hop. At Okinawa, the Marines, Army, Navy, and U.S. Army and Navy air forces all united in a final battle that prepared them for the invasion of mainland Japan.

  Americans saw Joe Rosenthal’s Pulitzer Prize–winning photograph of the flag raising on Iwo Jima’s Mount Suribachi in their newspapers and in movie newsreels. They were cheered by the fact that the Marines had taken Iwo Jima and secured its airfields, giving the United States yet another strategic air base close to the mainland of Japan.

  Okinawa was much larger—more than sixty miles long—and hilly, honeycombed with caves, tunnels, and tombs. It was arguably going to be even more costly to take than Iwo Jima.

  General Simon Bolivar Buckner Jr., the son of a Confederate general, was selected to lead the invasion. He led the massive 10th Amphibious Force. Admiral Ray Spruance and Vice Admiral Marc Mitscher headed up Task Force 58 and Admiral Kelly Turner led Task Force 51 naval forces. The British Royal Navy’s Vice Admiral Sir Bernard Rawlings was assigned to the 5th Fleet and led Task Force 57—a British fleet of four carriers, two battleships, five cruisers, and fifteen destroyers. Marine Major General Roy Geiger would lead the invasion force with three Marine divisions and four Army divisions.

  General Buckner’s nemesis, Lt. General Mitsuru Ushijima, a senior member of the Imperial Headquarters, led the 32nd Imperial Army—probably one of the most effective combat teams ever assembled, consisting of more than 100,000 troops.

  During March 1945, the U.S. Navy began air and sea attacks against Okinawa with such ferocity that the Japanese called it a “typhoon of steel.” Six days before the planned invasion, the Navy increased its shelling intensity, pounding the island with more munitions than the 20,000 shells that they’d dumped on Iwo Jima. This time they also pumped tens of thousands of rounds onto the sites where naval recon photos showed evidence of Japanese emplacements. But the weeklong bombardment did little damage to the dug-in Japanese.

  Also during March, Rear Admiral Alexander Sharp’s fleet of 122 mine patrol craft began minesweeping operations. Continuing night and day until the invasion began, Sharp’s operation swept 2,500 square miles of ocean. They found and destroyed six enemy minefields and nearly 200 mines. But Sharp’s fleet paid a price for their efforts: His ships and men accounted for 15 percent of all U.S. naval casualties during the Okinawa operation.

  Nineteen-year-old Seaman Third Class Larry Delewski joined the Navy to do his part. When he was assigned a stateside, landlocked, noncombatant job, he requested sea duty. His request was granted, and Larry saw perhaps more action than he’d bargained for. He was first aboard the destroyer USS Laffey when it was sent to Normandy for the D-Day invasion of France. The Laffey was one of just sixteen (out of 300 destroyers built during the war) to receive a Presidential Unit Citation.

  When Delewski’s destroyer returned from Europe, it was refitted in the Boston Navy Yard and then given orders to head for the Pacific and Okinawa. The Navy was about to lose more ships and men in Okinawa than it had lost at Pearl Harbor.

  SEAMAN THIRD CLASS

  LAWRENCE DELEWSKI, USN

  Aboard USS Laffey

  1 April 1945

  1115 Hours Local

  I’d been trained in the gunnery school and I never got notification that I’d made third class until we were going through the Panama Canal heading to the Pacific.

  On the way over, we practiced with the big guns. The gun would fire, then it recoiled fifteen, eighteen inches with hydraulic brakes to stop it. After the gun fired, the hot shell, about thirty inches long, came out. The “hot shell man” wore asbestos gloves up to his shoulders, and it was his job to clear that shell. Once it cleared, he’d trip the ramming shoe down so the gun could be reloaded. And then the “powder man” would load the powder in. This is a five-inch gun, so the powder for the shell itself was like a great big loaf of bread but it weighed over sixty pounds. Then you put the powder and shell in, hit the ramming shoe, and then hit the lever.

  The ramming shoe came forward. The bridge closed and you’re ready to fire again. Now everything I’ve just described took place every three seconds, so it took a lot of teamwork.

  We had six five-inch guns and twelve 40 mm guns. We also had ten torpedoes and some depth charges. So we were armed and built to protect all those other ships as well.

  I always had a globe and I’d hold it up and I’d say, just look—all you see is water. The Pacific Ocean is big. You can go for days and days and not see anything but water.

  It was common knowledge that we were moving progressively north toward Okinawa. And sooner or later, we’d go for the Japanese homeland.

  Destroyers like the Laffey seemed to always be in short supply so we were switched back and forth from fleet to fleet. Sometimes we’d be operating with the 3rd Fleet, other times with the aircraft carriers, and sometimes with the bombardment groups. And another time, we might be with the ships actually taking part in a landing.

  This landing was on Easter Sunday, 1 April, and was fairly uneventful. The Laffey was landing reinforcements day and night.

  We saw the damage that a single kamikaze could do. We saw people who were burned and mutilated.

  On 12 April the Laffey took a tremendous beating, and there were four other destroyers knocked out the same day. At the worst of it, we had as many as eighty enemy planes on our radar screens at one time.

  They started coming in big numbers and we started taking some hits. This plane hit on the blind side and blew me up onto the deck, maybe fifteen, eighteen feet, but I had no broken bones.

  Another plane hit just forward of my gun mount. I saw this thing crash and saw the wing as it hit the back of the gun mount, causing a terrible gasoline fire just inside my gun area. Once we got the fire under control, I reported to the bridge that we were ready to resume firing.

  I had shrapnel in my back and in the back of my head, with burns on my back. And the fiery expl
osion burned the hair off the back of my head.

  The communications officer, who’s standing there, found an unexploded shell. It was fairly common for these suicide planes to just fly over, rigged with shells, and drop them as bombs. And some hit the Laffey and went right through the main deck, through the lower deck. The rivets flew and the sheet steel opened up.

  And so everything from the engine room aft was flooded because we had holes in the bottom. Later that day, two seagoing tugs came alongside. At that point, we must’ve had somewhere between eighteen and twenty-four inches of water below decks.

  We were taken to a beach area where we dropped anchor, and then the next morning some underwater welders put patches on the outside so we could pump out the inside.

  We lost six men out of that gun crew of thirteen that day. One was a young man who went to gunnery school with me in Newport, up by the bridge. They took a direct hit up there and he was killed. There was another gunner, Joe Mealy from Brooklyn, and shrapnel went right through him. He was dead in seconds.

  We just knew that sooner or later, people on our ship were going to be lost. There was no escape. That’s the thing when you’re in the Navy: There’s no place to hide.

  U.S. MARINE ASSAULT FORCE

  OKINAWA

  1 APRIL 1945

  1915 HOURS LOCAL

  By 1 April, more than 1,300 Allied ships had carried hundreds of thousands of men across the Pacific to assemble off Okinawa—more than at Normandy in June 1944.

  General Ushijima had spent many months turning Okinawa into a fortress. His troops dug elaborate networks of tunnels that connected to and protected his strategically located artillery. He hoped to delay the Americans’ ultimate invasion operation—the assault on the mainland of Japan—for as long as possible.

  Ushijima stored enough water, rations, and essential supplies and munitions to last months. His plan was to let the Americans come ashore and then move inland. As at Iwo Jima, the Japanese would not oppose the American landing at first. But once they were far enough inland, he’d have them boxed in with his triangulated artillery and machine guns. Then Ushijima planned to hit them with all the strength of the 32nd Imperial Army in an unparalleled trap.

  Still, it was easy at first—the Americans moved quickly into the hills above the beaches. The landing on Okinawa was so different from Iwo Jima that Admiral Turner actually believed that the Japanese had already given up. The Americans secured the beachhead and two airfields by that first morning with minimal casualties.

  The Marines had also feigned a landing on Minatoga, completely hoodwinking General Ushijima, who mistakenly radioed Imperial Headquarters that his troops had successfully repulsed the Americans, who had “suffered numerous casualties.”

  But then the U.S. Army’s 96th Infantry Division was confronted by soldiers of Ushijima’s army—most of them hidden in the hills of the south end of the island. It was the first major combat on Okinawa, with the American soldiers attempting to take the high ground one hill at a time, especially up on Kakazu Ridge. In the first four days, American troops suffered 3,000 casualties. But in the coming days, their casualties would top 3,000 each day.

  The American armed forces desperately needed reinforcements, and during 1944 young Americans had lined up at the recruiting stations to serve. One of them was seventeen-year-old Dan Barton, who went to boot camp and was sent directly to the Pacific.

  PRIVATE FIRST CLASS DAN BARTON, USMC

  Vicinity Higashi, Okinawa

  1 April 1945

  1135 Hours Local

  From my personal experience—although Guam was bad enough—compared to Okinawa it was child’s play. At the southern end of Okinawa, the Japanese made us pay for every inch of ground we took.

  We landed on Okinawa with seven officers and 235 enlisted men. Eighty-one days later, there was one man in that group of 235 that stood muster. All the rest had either been killed or wounded.

  Because of the heavy casualties at Peleliu and Iwo, we were expecting heavy casualties in the first waves. But when we walked ashore there was nothing.

  Our regimental objective was Yontan Airfield. They gave us three days to take it but by nine-thirty that morning I was standing in the middle of the airfield. Ushijima had decided that instead of trying to meet us at the beach where we had overwhelming firepower, he’d meet us on the southern end of Okinawa, where he had the edge with 110,000 Japanese soldiers dug in. There’s an old military axiom: Always take and hold the high ground. Well, Ushijima had done that.

  We were under the impression that after we took the northern end we’d be through and could go home. But then when we started south and looked into the eyes of the fellows coming back, we started to understand. They looked like they’d run into a buzz saw.

  The Japanese had registered their artillery and machine guns on our positions. So whenever we tried to seal one cave and take another, we usually drew fire from two or three directions. Plus, they had the high ground so we were right out in the open.

  We called Okinawa the emperor’s doorstep. It was the door to Japan. And they knew that even better than we did. So they were going to make it as difficult as they could.

  For us, anything moving at night was enemy. You got into your foxhole; you stayed in it. If you heard something outside of it, you threw a hand grenade. You didn’t want to fire a weapon because the muzzle flash gave away your position.

  The biggest thing in your mind is, “I cannot let the guy next to me down.” Still, you’re scared to death. Somehow you manage to do what you have to do.

  I got wounded on Horseshoe Hill. Mortar and artillery started coming in. My squad leader and my assistant gunner were hit and killed almost instantly.

  I was down on the ground, and before I passed out, the sergeant put a compress on my hip. About that time a shell hit behind us, killing him and wounding me again. I got two pieces of shrapnel through the chest and abdomen. Well, the worst part of that is that we were pinned down and couldn’t move. Anybody who stood up was cut down by machine gun fire. So I had to lie there all day and shoot myself with morphine.

  The way I felt is that I wasn’t going to die for my country, but I wanted to make the other guy die for his. And I kept that idea before me all the time. I said, “Hey, somehow I’m going to come through this.” And I did.

  The thing I remember most were the heavy casualties. You get the feeling that the law of averages is going to catch up. The other thing you never forget is the stench of fighting on Okinawa, because you’re fighting over the same piece of turf day in and day out. You can’t evacuate and pick up the dead. And there’s a smell that you can’t describe but you never get it out of your nostrils. For the rest of your life, you remember it.

  10TH ARMY ASSAULT FORCE

  VICINITY ISHIKAWA ISTHMUS, OKINAWA

  9 APRIL 1945

  1615 HOURS LOCAL

  On the first day of the landing, the USS Indefatigable was hit by a kamikaze but was saved from serious damage by its armored flight deck. The Japanese launched the first of ten hordes of kamikaze attacks that continued until June. U.S. losses in both men and ships were severe. Between 1,500 and 2,000 kamikaze flights were flown from Kyushu to attack the American ships.

  On the sixth day after the landing, the British aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious was hit by another kamikaze attack but did not sink. General Ushijima’s fleet of kamikaze pilots and planes scored only a few crucial hits, including the U.S. aircraft carriers Wasp and Franklin. When the Wasp was hit, the resulting explosions and fires killed more than a hundred sailors and wounded 269. Nevertheless, within fifteen minutes, the fires aboard the Wasp were extinguished and her remaining crew began bringing back their aircraft.

  The carrier Franklin was hit hard, but the cruiser Santa Fe heroically stayed alongside her throughout the afternoon, despite explosions and flames, to rescue those who jumped off the deck to escape from the fiery heat. Damage to the Franklin’s flight deck was extensive, but the ship got under way
within hours and was able to return home under her own power. Casualties included 724 killed or missing and 265 wounded. Lieutenant (jg) Donald Gary was awarded the Medal of Honor for leading two sailors below the blazing decks in order to wet down a five-inch gun about to explode. He later found 300 men trapped below decks and led them to safety.

  On 6 April, the “super battleship” Yamato, along with the Japanese cruiser Yahagi and eight destroyers, set sail for Okinawa. The Yamato, the largest warship ever built, was sent to Okinawa with no protective air cover and only enough fuel for a one-way trip. Their orders were to locate American and Allied ships and destroy them before they were destroyed.

  From the very beginning of hostilities around Okinawa, the Japanese were intent on making life miserable for the Allies. In addition to at least 2,000 kamikaze aircraft, the Japanese had also created a fleet of kamikaze ships that included the Yamato, the Yahagi, and the eight destroyers. But these kamikaze ships were met and overwhelmed by aircraft from the 5th Fleet.

  The American submarine USS Hackleback tracked the Yamato and her escorts and then alerted carrier-based bombers. Vice Admiral Marc Mitscher launched air strikes on the Yamato. Aircraft from the USS San Jacinto sunk the Japanese destroyer Hamakaze, while the light cruiser Yahagi was hit and went dead in the water. The small Japanese naval force was under incessant attack. The Yahagi was sunk after American carrier-based Hellcats and Avengers made a final attack.

  The Yamato also finally succumbed to American air power. It took twelve bombs and seven torpedo hits to finally kill her, but she sank in the East China Sea. Three of the Japanese destroyers were also hit and were so badly damaged that they had to be scuttled. Even the four remaining destroyers could not make the return trip to Japan.

  Of the Yamato’s crew of 2,747, all but 269 men were lost. The Yahagi lost about 450; Asashimo lost 330; and the seven destroyers suffered casualties of 391. There were few Japanese survivors. Losses to the Americans were ten planes and a dozen men.