Storm Landings

by Joseph H. Alexander

  There remained at least one favorable aspect. If nothing else, the amphibious seizure of Okinawa represented joint service cooperation at its finest. This was General Buckner’s greatest achievement, and Roy Geiger continued the sense of teamwork after Buckner’s death. In terms of interservice cooperation alone, the Central Pacific Forces were now fully ready for an all-out amphibious assault on the Japanese home islands.

  * On 29 June 1944, the USS Sturgeon torpedoed the transport Toyama Maru and sank her with the loss of fifty-six hundred troops of the 44th Independent Brigade, bound for Okinawa.

  † XXIV Corps, reprieved at the last minute from the Palaus, had gained valuable amphibious campaign experience in Leyte under MacArthur.

  * During the battle for Kunishi Ridge, “Grasshopper” pilots from VMO-3 and VMO-7 reduced casualty evacuation times to rear-area hospitals from a half-day by jeep ambulance to eight minutes by direct flight from an improvised dirt strip near Itoman. This was the dawn of tactical air MedEvacs, which would save so many lives in subsequent Asian wars. In eleven days, these doughty pilots safely flew 641 badly wounded Marines to first-class medical treatment in field hospitals.

  * Marine Corps casualties overall—ground, air, ships’ detachments—exceeded 19,500. In addition, there were 560 casualties among the Navy Medical Corps organic to Marine units. Thirteen of the 18 infantry battalion commanders in IIIAC who landed on L-Day were killed or wounded in the campaign.

  Chapter Nine

  Collision Course

  The Planned Invasion of Kyūshū

  There comes a time in every combat unit’s experience when it no longer brags about the extent of its losses.

  Gen. Merrill B. Twining, USMC (Ret.)

  From No Bended Knee,

  1996

  Three and a half years of increasingly vicious fighting between the United States and Japan across the breadth of the Pacific had led to the ultimate showdown in the Imperial homeland itself. The two antagonists now stood toe-to-toe: unblinking, gasping, bleeding—one dying on his feet, still snarling in defiance. “The Japanese are defeated,” observed one American officer, “but we have not yet won the victory.”

  Once again enormous amphibious assault forces began to concentrate in the great lagoons of the Central Pacific; once again legions of Japanese defenders began digging coastal fortifications and assembling suicide attack forces. Both sides fully realized that this coming storm landing would dwarf all others in scale and savagery.

  At the end, the Japanese high command could only seek to buy time, blindly hoping for some reversal of fortune—the unraveling of the Western Alliance, perhaps, or another killer typhoon to destroy the enemy fleet as it had against Mongol invaders in the thirteenth century (the original “divine wind”). Most of all, the Imperial General Headquarters clung to the belief that the will of the American public would not endure a protracted war in the Pacific—that having defeated their principal villain, Adolph Hitler, the Americans would not accept the high casualties required for a direct assault on the Japanese home islands. Surely, they reasoned, another campaign as prolonged and costly to the Americans as Okinawa had been would cause the U.S. government to abandon its odious “unconditional surrender” demands and negotiate an armistice, a ceasefire in place. Then, for Japan, there would be no invasion, occupation, loss of overseas “possessions,” war crimes trials—no global humiliation.

  The principal Japanese war aim had thus devolved into simply hanging on, inflicting maximum casualties, and waiting for “war weariness” to force the Americans to lose heart. The Japanese took some encouragement that their old nemesis, Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt, the author of the “unconditional surrender” demands, had died at the onset of the Okinawa campaign, and his replacement, Harry S. Truman, lacked experience in international affairs.

  Truman, derided by many of his own countrymen as “the Accidental President,” had grit and common sense. He had also experienced combat as an artillery officer in World War I. Truman swiftly reaffirmed the objective of Japan’s unconditional surrender. He concluded that starving the Japanese into submission by means of naval and air blockade would take too long. The fearsome new bomb being developed by the Manhattan Project might not be ready in time, might not even work.

  Truman exacted a promise from Soviet marshall Joseph Stalin that the Red Army would enter the war against Japan within three months from the surrender of Germany. He encouraged British Prime Minister Winston Churchill to launch Operation Zipper to recapture Singapore. These two initiatives would preoccupy the sizable Japanese Army forces in mainland Asia. But Truman also sensed that an American invasion of Japan was inescapable. On 18 June 1945 he asked the Joint Chiefs of Staff for a detailed briefing on Operation Downfall.

  Operation Downfall, the planned two-phased invasion of Japan, had staggering dimensions. More than 5 million troops (mostly American, some British, Canadian, and Australian) would conduct the two largest amphibious assaults in history—surpassing completely the earlier landings at Normandy, Okinawa, and Luzon. The two phases of Downfall had the code names of Olympic and Coronet. Operation Olympic was the first step, the seizure of Kyūshū by fourteen divisions of the U.S. Sixth Army on X-Day, 1 November 1945. Forcible seizure of the region’s many airfields, seaports, harbors, and staging areas would enable the subsequent buildup and launching of Operation Coronet, the amphibious assault against Honshū’s Kanto Plain and seizure of the Tokyo-Yokohama region by twenty-five divisions on Y-Day, 1 March 1946.

  Truman listened to the ambitious invasion plans with a heavy heart. He had assumed the presidency at a time when the rate of American casualties had reached their highest levels of the war—nearly nine hundred a day being reported from both theaters. Truman was particularly bothered by the casualties incurred throughout the Okinawa campaign, which paralleled the first ten weeks of his presidency. “I don’t want you to conduct another Okinawa from one end of Japan to the other,” he instructed his service chiefs. Yet even their conservative casualty estimates for Olympic upset the president: he could expect to suffer sixty thousand battle casualties on Kyūshū in the first two months alone, the chiefs told him. Of these, fifteen thousand Americans would likely die.

  Truman approved the Joint Chiefs’ plans, but expressly reserved for himself the right to issue the execution order for Olympic. His interim decision coincided with a special report of the death in combat on Okinawa of Gen. Simon B. Buckner, commanding the U.S. Tenth Army.

  Planning the ultimate invasion of Japan made the Joint Chiefs confront the long-deferred selection of the supreme Allied commander in the Pacific. Operation Olympic would for the first time concentrate all Pacific resources in a single campaign. Dividing the Pacific between General of the Army Douglas MacArthur and Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz could no longer be sensibly justified. On the surface, the solution appeared obvious. Nimitz had no aspirations to command ground forces in a protracted campaign ashore in Kyūshū; this was clearly MacArthur’s role. But getting the troops ashore involved a massive amphibious operation—and therein lay the rub.

  Beginning with Tarawa, Nimitz and his tactical commanders in the Central Pacific had paid scrupulous attention to the issue of unity of command in amphibious warfare. As evolved in practice and codified in doctrine, the naval attack force commander retained operational authority over his embarked landing force until such time as his counterpart ground commander had gone ashore and announced his readiness to assume full responsibilities for subsequent operations.

  This was not the case in MacArthur’s Southwest Pacific Area. Vice Adm. Dan E. Barbey’s role more closely resembled a modern “component commander”—he commanded his ships but never MacArthur’s embarked troops. And for MacArthur, finally on the cusp of becoming supreme Allied commander in the Pacific, the notion of yielding temporary command of his landing force to a Navy admiral until such time as the amphibious beachhead could be secured was anathema. Resolving this amphibious doctrinal issue took the Joint Chiefs muc
h of a bitter winter and spring of 1945, leading to a series of very sharp exchanges between George Marshall and Ernest King. Finally, JCS Paper No. 1331/3 of 25 May (“Directive for Operation Olympic”) put the issue to rest—somewhat. MacArthur would take the lead in planning Olympic and command all Allied forces, except during the amphibious phase when his landing forces would serve under the temporary command of the attack force commander—unless an undefined “exigency” arose, at which point MacArthur would assume full command authority.

  Such stratospheric debates among five-star flag officers had little impact on most of the rank and file of assault forces being assembled in the Western Pacific. The summer equinox brought the region’s typhoon season into full fury. Veterans of earlier amphibious campaigns knew these conditions would prevail for the next four months, restricting large-scale offensive campaigning. October would bring better weather and the so-called invasion window. Olympic planning continued with heightened urgency.

  The assault divisions of the U.S. Sixth Army preparing for the invasion of Kyūshū had already seen plenty of fighting in the Pacific. Olympic would occur too soon for the recycled combat divisions from the European Theater to arrive following their elaborate screening, retraining, and transshipment process. Further along, ten infantry divisions and an airborne division from Europe would comprise follow-on forces for the invasion of Honshū. For now, however, it was business as usual for the old Pacific hands.

  The tactical commanders selected for Olympic likewise reflected a lineup of men who had proven themselves in a series of trials by fire across the Pacific. Adm. Raymond Spruance would exercise overall naval command, but for the first time both the Third and Fifth Fleets would participate in the same operation, bringing Admirals William “Bull” Halsey and Spruance together. Adm. Richmond Kelly Turner would command the largest amphibious armada in history, over 2,700 specialized ships and craft from all three Pacific amphibious forces (compared with a bare-bones total of 51 amphibs at Guadalcanal three years earlier). Army lieutenant general Walter Krueger would command the Sixth Army, 650,000 strong, arguably as tough and seasoned a force of GIs and Leathernecks as any yet assembled.

  MacArthur’s mission, with Nimitz’s specified assistance, was to isolate Kyūshū, destroy Japanese forces ashore, and seize airfields, ports, and staging bases to support the subsequent invasion of Honshū.

  Kyūshū, the southernmost island of Japan, resembles a gnarled, open hand, its fingers extending invitingly toward Okinawa, 350 miles to the south. Kyūshū is three times the length and much fatter than Okinawa. The strategic jewel of the island, to American planners, was Kagoshima Bay in the south, a huge, natural harbor. Significantly for the landing force, the island had plenty of beaches and no barrier reef. But Kyūshū also featured an abundance of mountains, steep ravines, narrow stream-beds, and natural caves—truly a Japanese defender’s dream.

  General MacArthur’s operational genius surfaced early in the planning. Realizing that his mission did not require the Sixth Army to seize all of Kyūshū, he designated a ninety-mile diagonal line across the lower third of the island, from Sendai in the west to Tsuno in the east, the line roughly following the southern slope of the central mountain range. His troops would secure Kagoshima Bay and all other ports and airfields below this line, then bottle up Japanese troops in the north by plugging the mountain passes.

  In support of this strategy, Admiral Turner would execute three, near-simultaneous, corps-size landings:

  • Vice Adm. Barbey’s VII Amphibious Force to deliver Maj. Gen. I. P. Swift’s I Corps (25th, 33d, and 41st Divisions) against the Miyazaki beaches below Tsuno on the east coast;

  • Vice Adm. Theodore S. Wilkinson’s III Amphibious Force to land Lt. Gen. Charles P. Hall’s XI Corps (1st Cavalry, Americal, and 43d Divisions) in Ariaka Bay in the southeast;

  • Vice Adm. Harry W. Hill’s V Amphibious Force to land Maj. Gen. Harry Schmidt’s V Amphibious Corps (2d, 3d, and 5th Marine Divisions) along the Satsuma Peninsula on Kyūshū’s southwestern coast.

  Amphibious planning for the Kyūshū assaults reflected the cumulative experience gleaned in scores of earlier landings. Deception operations received major emphasis. The Americans used bogus radio traffic and misleading intelligence overflights to indicate the strategic target would be the island of Shikoku vice Kyūshū. Tactically, U.S. intelligence officers went to great lengths to create the perception among the Japanese that the next campaign would feature a massive reliance on airborne and glider assault units—even though only one airborne division existed in the Pacific at the time and there were no plans to drop paratroopers in the Olympic landings.* Conspicuous airborne rehearsals and use of dummy gliders, however, forced Japanese planners to earmark mobile forces inland to guard against this new threat.

  Mary Craddock Hoffman

  Advance seizure of the Kerama Retto Islands in the Okinawa campaign had proven so beneficial that Kelly Turner sought to repeat the maneuver as part of the preliminary operations for Olympic. Rear Adm. G. B. Davis’s Western Attack Force would land the 40th Division in the Koshiki Retto off the southwest tip of Kyūshū on X-Day-minus-5. The same force would seize seven other offshore islands in the ensuing forty-eight hours. American possession of these islands would reduce the threat of suicide boat attacks, provide secure anchorages for damaged ships, help clear the approach lanes to the landing beaches, and give the fleet commander additional early warning and fighter direction capabilities against kamikaze attacks. In addition, the 158th Regimental Combat Team stood ready to seize the large island of Tanega Shima should it prove necessary to protect the minesweepers at work in the waters nearby.

  Turner picked Vice Adm. Jesse B. Oldendorf to command Task Force 54, the Gunfire and Covering Force. The naval gunfire commanders under Oldendorf reflected the level of experience being brought to bear on this first landing on the Japanese homeland: Rear Adms. Jerauld Wright, Ingolf N. Kiland, and Richard L. “Close-In” Conolly. Between them, these bombardment commanders would distribute the fires of thirteen battleships, twenty-four cruisers, and thirty-eight destroyers against the principal landing beaches.

  Many members of the same Navy-Marine Corps team that prevailed at Iwo Jima would reunite for the forcible seizure of the Kushikino beachhead on X-Day. Adm. “Handsome Harry” Hill would again command the V Amphibious Force from his flagship Auburn. Hill’s considerable ego sometimes prevented him from listening to the advice of his staff or the entreaties of his landing force counterpart, but he was man enough to admit his mistakes, and he had certainly learned his profession firsthand, having commanded major attack forces in every amphibious campaign across the Central Pacific, from Tarawa to Okinawa—missing only Peleliu. Personally brave and intellectually creative, Hill had become Kelly Turner’s principal subordinate commander. Significantly, he also got along well with VAC commander Harry Schmidt. The cooperation and frank exchanges between these two veterans throughout Tinian and Iwo Jima had provided the foundation for success in both campaigns.

  Maj. Gen. Harry “the Dutchman” Schmidt had commanded the 4th Marine Division at Roi-Namur and Saipan, before relieving Holland Smith in command of VAC before Tinian. Smith had left the war zone after Iwo, having left his unmistakable mark on the Pacific War. Schmidt was colorless but competent. His rock-steady control of three fiercely independent division commanders throughout the Iwo Jima battle exemplified the most desirable traits of a Corps commander. Indeed, Schmidt and Roy Geiger both deserve special laurels for difficult command of enormous forces of Marines under absolutely hellish conditions. Schmidt would have served well the seventy-five thousand men of VAC earmarked for Operation Olympic.

  The mission of Schmidt’s Marines would be to land south of Kushikino, fight their way across the dozen miles of the Satsuma Peninsula to Kagoshima Bay, block reinforcements from boiling out of the mountains to the north, and link up with Army troops coming from the east. Significant Japanese coast-defense batteries at Noma Misaki and Hashima Saki wo
uld receive early attention from Wright’s battleships. When aerial photographs revealed a steady proliferation of other enemy gun positions further inland, the Marines were told that the heavy bombers of the Far East Air Force would pound them into oblivion in advance. Hearing this drew jeers from the Iwo Jima veterans, recalling the ten weeks of preliminary bombing of that sulfuric rock, which did little more than drive the enemy deeper underground.

  General Schmidt reported to the Sixth Army for planning purposes on 31 May, barely two months after leaving Iwo. His staff already had a landing plan in the works. Basically, the 2d and 3d Marine Divisions would land abreast, with the 5th Marine Division in reserve.

  These three divisions had already experienced much of the roughest fighting in the Pacific to this point: the 2d Division at Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian, and Okinawa; the 3d Division at Bougainville, Guam, and Iwo Jima; and the 5th Division, whose single, terrible battle had been all thirty-six days of Iwo. According to military historian Richard B. Frank, the three Marine divisions by August 1945 had suffered the combined loss of 32,759 battle casualties in the Pacific, including 7,580 deaths.

  Maj. Gen. Graves B. Erskine still commanded the 3d Marine Division, which left Iwo Jima for Guam, the island they had recaptured so convincingly the previous summer. Nearby, the 2d Marine Division, which had paid an unexpectedly high price for a series of demonstration landings off Okinawa, returned to Saipan. Maj. Gen. Leroy P. Hunt took command. Both divisions began conducting progressive training, which stressed integrated assault teams attacking bunkers and caves. Southern Kyūshū seemed to offer the same deadly fortified terrain as Iwo and Okinawa.