World War II Pacific: Battles and Campaigns from Guadalcanal to Okinawa 1942-1945 (WW2 Pacific Military History Series)

by Daniel Wrinn

  The Imperial Japanese headquarters in Rabaul planned what they considered the most effective response to the Marine offensive. Their faulty intelligence estimated that the Americans had two thousand men. Several Japanese officers believed that a smaller force would quickly overwhelm the Marines’ invasion. On August 12, CINCPAC determined that a sizable Japanese force was massing at Truk to steam to the Solomons and attempt to remove the Americans. The heavy carriers Zuikaku and Shokaku and the light carrier Ryujo were dispatched. After the stinging losses at Savo Island, the only significant American naval force increase in the Solomons was the new battleship, the South Dakota.

  The Japanese Imperial headquarters in Tokyo had ordered General Hyakutake’s 17th Army to attack the Marine perimeter. For his assault force, he chose the 35th Infantry Brigade, commanded by Major General Kawaguchi. Kawaguchi’s primary force was in Palaus. General Hyakutake chose the 28th—a crack infantry regiment commanded by Colonel Ichiki—to land first. Alerted for their mission while still on Guam, the Ichiki detachment assault echelon, one battalion of nine hundred men, was transported to the Solomon Islands on the only shipping available, six destroyers. The troops only carried small amounts of supplies and ordinance. A follow-on force of twelve hundred troops was to join the assault battalion on Guadalcanal.

  Battle of the Eastern Solomons

  While the Marine landing force headed to Guadalcanal, the Japanese were already on the island, providing an unpleasant reminder that they were full of fight. A Japanese captured naval officer told Marine officers that the Japanese group was ready to surrender near the village of Kokumbona, seven miles west of Matanikau. This was the area that Colonel Goettge believed held most of the enemy troops who had fled the airfield. On August 12, a reconnaissance patrol of twenty-five men led by Goettge himself left the perimeter by landing craft. Their patrol landed near their objective. They were ambushed—and nearly wiped out.

  Three Marines survived by swimming back to the lines. The rest of the other patrol Marines and their bodies were never found. After losing Goettge and his men, the perimeter became more vigilant. On August 14, a coastwatcher named Martin Clemens calmly exited the jungle and into the Marine perimeter. He’d observed the Japanese landing from the southern hills of the airfield and brought his bodyguard of native policeman with him. Jacob Vouza was a local and a retired sergeant major of the British Solomon Islands Constabulary. He volunteered his men to search out the Japanese east of the perimeter where they might have landed.

  The news of Japanese sightings to the east and west of the perimeter were balanced out by news that more Marines had already landed. These Marines were aviators. On August 20, two squadrons of Marine aircraft groups were launched from the escort carrier Long Island, some two hundred miles southeast of Guadalcanal. Captain John Smith led nineteen Grumman F4F Wildcats of the Marine Fighting Squadron onto the narrow runway in Henderson Airfield. Captain Smith’s fighters were followed by Major Richard Mangrum’s Marine Scout-Bombing Squadron with twelve Douglas SBD Dauntless dive bombers.

  They wasted no time. The Marine pilots were soon an action against the Japanese naval aircraft. Captain Smith shot down his first enemy Zero fighter on August 21. Three days later, the Wildcats intercepted a strong Japanese aerial attack and shot down sixteen enemy planes. In this fight, Captain Marion Carl, a Midway veteran, shot down three planes. The coastwatchers alerted the Cactus Air Force to an impending air attack. Thirteen of sixteen enemy bombers were engaged and destroyed. Three of the destroyed enemy dive bombers damaged three enemy destroyers attempting to reach Guadalcanal.

  On August 22, five Bell P-400 Air Cobras of the Army’s 67th Fighter Squadron landed at Henderson Airfield, followed later in the week by nine more Air Cobras. These Army planes had serious climb rate and altitude deficiencies. They would see the most action in ground combat support roles.

  On August 24, the American attacking aircraft now included Navy scout bombers from the Saratoga’s Scouting Squadron. They turned back a Japanese reinforcement convoy of destroyers and warships.

  This frenzied action became known as the Battle of the Eastern Solomons. Japanese destroyers had already delivered the vanguard of the Ichiki force at Taivu Point. A Marine patrol ambushed a substantial Japanese force at Taivu on August 19. The dead Japanese were quickly identified as Army troops. In the debris of their defeat, Marines found fresh uniforms and large amounts of communication equipment. This signaled a new phase of fighting. The Japanese encountered up to this point had all been naval troops.

  Marines dug in along the Ilu River, often mislabeled as the Tenaru on Marine maps, and were ready for Colonel Ichiki. The Japanese commander’s orders were to “quickly recapture and maintain the airfield at Guadalcanal,” in his own directive, his troops were to fight “to the last breath of the last man.” And that is what they did.

  Colonel Ichiki decided to not wait for the rest of his regiment. Sure of the fact he only faced two thousand Marines, Ichiki marched out from Taivu to the Marine lines. Before he attacked, a bloody figure stumbled out of the jungle with a warning that the Japanese were coming.

  Sergeant Major Vouza had been captured by the Japanese. They found a small American flag hidden in his loincloth. The Japanese tortured him to get more information on the details of the Marine Invasion Force. He was tied to a tree, bayoneted twice through the chest, and beaten with rifle butts. Sergeant Major Vouza showed true grit as he chewed through his bindings to escape.

  He was taken to Colonel Edwin Pollock, whose 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines held the Ilu River mouth defenses. He warned that over five hundred Japanese soldiers were close behind him. The sergeant was rushed to an aid station and then the division hospital. He miraculously survived his ordeal and was awarded the Silver Star for his heroic actions. Sergeant. Major Vouza was also made an honorary sergeant major of the US Marines.

  On August 21 at 0130, Japanese troops stormed the Marines’ lines in the screaming frenzy display of “spiritual strength,” to destroy their weak American enemy. As the Japanese charged across the sandbar, astride the river Ilu’s mouth. The US Marines cut them down. After a mortar assault, the Japanese tried again to storm past the sandbar. A section of 37mm guns pounded the enemy force with lethal effect. The 1st Battalion, 1st Marines, moved upstream at daybreak. And waded across the sluggish fifty-foot wide stream and moved to flank the Japanese. Wildcats strafed the beleaguered enemy force. Five light tanks blasted the retreating Japanese. By 1700—as the sun was setting—the battle ended.

  Colonel Ichiki, disgraced by defeat, burned his regimental colors and shot himself in the face. Eight hundred Japanese soldiers joined him in his ritual suicidal death. The few survivors fled eastward toward Taivu Point. Japanese Admiral Tanaka, whose reinforcement troops of destroyers and transports were responsible for the Japanese troop build-up on Guadalcanal, remarked about this foolish unsupported attack: “This tragedy should have taught us the hopelessness of bamboo spear tactics.”

  Colonel Ichiki’s overconfidence was a common trait, and weakness, among Japanese Army commanders. After the 1st Marines’ fight with the Ichiki detachment, General Vandegrift was inspired to write, and recalled: “These youngsters are the darndest people when they get started.”

  The Marines on Guadalcanal, both veteran and newly enlisted, were becoming fast accomplished jungle fighters. No longer were they “trigger-happy” as many had been in the first days ashore, shooting at shadows and imagined enemy. They were now waiting for targets, patrolling with enthusiasm, and more sure of themselves. The miscalled battle of the Tenaru had cost the regiment thirty-four killed in action and seventy-five wounded. Most of the division’s Marines were now bloodied. What the men on Tenaru, Gavutu, Tulagi, and those of the Ilu had proved was that the 1st Marine Division could and would hold fast to what it had done.

  While the 1st Division’s Marines and sailors got a breather as the Japanese regrouped for another attack, the action in the air over the Solomon’s intensified. Ever
y day, Japanese aircraft arrived before noon to bomb the perimeter. Marine fighter pilots fought the twin-engine Betty bombers as easy targets. Japanese Zero fighters were another story. While the Wildcats were a much sturdier aircraft, the Japanese Zeros advanced speed and better maneuverability gave them an advantage in a dogfight. The American planes, when warned by the coastwatchers of Japanese attacks, had time to climb above the oncoming enemy and attacked by making firing runs during high-speed dives. These tactics made the airspace over the Solomon Islands dangerous for the Japanese. On August 29, the carrier Ryujo launched aircraft for a strike against the airstrip.

  Captain Smith’s Wildcats shot down sixteen with a loss of four. Japanese air assaults continue to strike at Henderson Airfield without letting up. Two days after the Ryujo raid, Japanese bombers inflicted massive damage to the airfield. They set aviation fuel ablaze in incinerated parked aircraft. The Marine retaliation was to shoot down another thirteen enemy planes.

  On August 30, two more MAG-23 squadrons flew into Henderson Airfield. These reinforcements were more than welcome. The frequent damage caused by combat attrition with scant facilities to repair and no access to parts kept the number of aircraft available a diminishing resource.

  General Vandegrift needed infantry reinforcements as much as he needed additional aircraft. He brought the now combined Parachute and Raider Battalions, under the command of the 2/5 Marines, over to Guadalcanal from Tulagi.

  The division commander ordered a significant increase in reconnaissance patrols to search and destroy Japanese soldiers. On August 27, the 1st Battalion, 5th Marines made a landing near Kokumbona and marched back to the beachhead with no results. While the Japanese dug in out beyond the Matanikau, they waited and watched for a better opportunity to attack.

  Col. Edson’s Bloody Ridge

  Admiral McCain visited Guadalcanal at the end of August. He arrived in time to greet the aerial reinforcements he had ordered, just in time for a taste of the Japanese nightly bombings. He got first-hand experience of another unwanted feature of the Cactus Air Force nights: being bombarded by Japanese cruisers and destroyers. General Vandegrift noted that Admiral McCain had gotten a dose of the “normal ration of shells.” The admiral had seen enough and signaled his superiors; it was time to increase support for the Guadalcanal Operations.

  He noted that it was “imperative and that the situation admits no delay whatsoever.” He sent another message to admirals Nimitz and King: “Cactus can be a sinkhole for enemy air power and must be consolidated, expanded, and exploited to the enemy’s mortal hurt.”

  On September 3, the commanding general of the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing, General Roy Geiger, and his assistant wing commander, Colonel Woods, moved forward into Guadalcanal and took charge of the air operations. These veteran Marine aviators signaled an instant lift to the morale of the pilots and ground crews. It reinforced the belief that they were on the leading edge of air combat, they were now setting the pace for the rest of Marine Corps aviation. General Vandegrift could turn over the day-to-day management of the aerial defenses of Cactus to the able and experienced General Geiger. There was no shortage of targets for the mixed air force of Marine, Navy, and Army flyers. Daily attacks by the Japanese, coupled with steady reinforcement attempts by enemy destroyers and transports, meant that every type of plane would lift off of the Henderson runway and was airborne as often as possible. The Seabees had begun work on a second airstrip, Fighter One, which would relieve most of the pressure of the primary airfield.

  By now, most of General Kawaguchi’s troops had reached Guadalcanal. Those who hadn’t, missed landfall forever because of the American air assaults. Kawaguchi gambled with a surprise attack on the heart of the Marines’ position. He planned a thrust from the jungle directly to the airfield. To reach his jump-off position, Kawaguchi would have to move through rugged terrain unobserved, carving his way through the dense vegetation and out of sight of the Marine patrols. This strenuous approach route would lead them into a prominent ridge topped by Kunai Grass that wove snakelike through the jungle to within a mile of the Henderson runway. Unknown to Japanese intelligence, Vandegrift Moved his HQ to a sheltered spot toward the inland base of the ridge, a better-protected site from enemy bombing and shell fire.

  The success of the Japanese general’s plan depended on the Marines keeping that inland perimeter thinly manned. They concentrated their forces on the west and east flanks. This would not happen. All available intelligence, including captured enemy maps, pointed to the likelihood of an attack on the airfield. Vandegrift moved his combined Parachute/Raider Battalion to the most apparent enemy approach throughout the ridge.

  Colonel Edson’s men scouted Savo Island after moving into Guadalcanal and destroyed a Japanese supply base at Tasimboko. Another shorter raid took up positions on the forward slopes of the ridge at the edge of the encroaching jungle on September 10. Their commander said that he was convinced they were in the path of the next Japanese attack. The earlier patrols had spotted a sizable Japanese assault force approaching. Colonel Edson patrolled extensively as his men dug in on the ridge. In the flanking jungle, Marines contacted enemy patrols who confirmed that Japanese troops were out front. Kawaguchi had two thousand of his men with him; enough, he thought, to punch through into the airfield.

  Japanese bombers had dropped five-hundred-pound bombs along the ridge on the 11th, and enemy ships began showering the area after nightfall on the 12th, once the threat of American air attacks subsided. The first Japanese thrust came at 2100 against Edson’s left flank. They boiled out of the jungle, the enemy soldiers attacked fearlessly into the face of machine gun and rifle fire. They closed into bayonet range. The Marines pushed them back. Then they came on again—a coordinated attack against the right flank—and penetrated the Marines’ positions. They were forced back again. A third attack ended the night’s action, it was a close fight, but by 0230, Colonel Edson told Vandegrift his men could hold. And they did.

  On the morning of September 13, Colonel Edson called his company commanders together and told them: “They were just testing, just testing. They will be back.”

  All defenses were ordered merged, and positions improved. He pulled his lines toward the airfield along the center spine of the ridge. The 2/5 Marines, were back up on Tulagi. They were moved into position to reinforce him again.

  The following night’s assaults were as fierce as any Marine had yet to see. The Japanese fought hand-to-hand everywhere. They were in the Marines’ foxholes and gun pits, and streaming past positions to attack from the rear. Sergeant Major Banta shot one in the command post. Colonel Edson appeared wherever the fighting was the toughest, encouraging his men to their utmost efforts. The hand-to-hand battles spilled out into the jungle on both flanks of the ridge. Engineer positions were attacked. The 5th Marine reserves were ordered into the fight. Artillery from the 5/11 Marines fired 105mm howitzers at called out targets. The range became as short as fifteen hundred yards from tube to impact.

  The Japanese could stand no more. They pulled back at dawn. On the slopes of the ridge in the surrounding jungle, they left over seven hundred bodies, with another five hundred men wounded. The remnants of the Kawaguchi force staggered back toward their lines to the west. A grueling, hellish eight-day march that killed most of the enemy.

  The cost to Edson’s force for its epic defense was also heavy. He lost fifty-nine men, ten missing in action, and nearly two hundred wounded. Coupled with the casualties and losses of Tulagi, Gavutu, and Tanambogo, this signaled the end of the 1st Parachute Battalion as an effective fighting force. Less than ninety men of the parachutists’ original strength could walk off the ridge soon to be known as Bloody Ridge or Edson’s Ridge. Due to his inspirational and heroic actions, Colonel Edson was awarded the Medal of Honor.

  Over the next two days, the Japanese attempted to support Kawaguchi’s attack on the ridge against the flanks of the Marine perimeter. In the east, enemy troops tried to penetrate the lines of the
3rd Battalion, 1st Marines. Artillery fire caught them out in the open on the grass plane, causing over two hundred dead. To the west, the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines continued to hold ridge positions that covered the coastal road and heroically fought off a determined Japanese attack force that skirmished its front lines.

  7th Marines Reinforce the Battalion

  The victory at Colonel Edson’s Bloody Ridge boosted the Allied home front morale. It reinforced the idea, for the men ashore on Guadalcanal, that they could take out anything the enemy could send up against them. At higher levels of military command, the leaders were unsure if the ground Marines and their motley air force could hold out against the Japanese forces.

  Captured Japanese dispatches uncovered the myth of the two thousand man sized defending force. The Imperial Japanese sent a sizable naval force and two divisions of Japanese troops to engage and conquer the Americans on Guadalcanal. The Cactus Air Force, boosted by Navy carrier squadrons, made the planned reinforcement a high-risk venture. This was a risk the Japanese were prepared to take.

  On September 18, the long-awaited 7th Marines, reinforced the 1st Battalion, 11th Marines, and other division troops. When the men from Samoa landed, they were greeted with open arms by the Marines already on the island. The 7th had been the 1st regiment of the 1st Division to go overseas. Its men, many thought then, were likely the first Marines to see combat. The division had sent some of the best Marines to Samoa, but now they had returned. A salty combat veteran of the 5th Marines said to a friend in the 7th that he was tired of waiting “to see our first team get into the game.” A separate supply convoy reached the island at the same time as the 7th’s arrival, bringing with it the first resupply of ammunition and aviation fuel since D-Day.