The last of Colonel Katayama’s forces in Borgen Bay had been shattered and the colonel had himself gone back to Nakarop-Egaroppu, where General Matsuda was already preparing his getaway. The fighting at Borgen Bay had been as decisive a victory for the First Marine Division as the battle for Cape Gloucester Airfield.
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Conquest of the Gilbert Islands in November of 1943 had caused the first break in the outerworks of Fortress Nippon. Now, in February of 1944, seizure of the Marshall Islands would start the breakthrough.
The Marshalls sat athwart the Central Pacific about 400 miles north and 650 miles west of Tarawa in the Gilberts. They guarded all the routes to Tokyo. Directly west or behind them lay the Carolines with the monster air-sea base at Truk and the ocean fort of Peleliu. South and west of them lay General MacArthur’s Bismarcks-New Guinea route to the Philippines. North and west of them lay the Marianas with Guam and Saipan, the Volcanos with Iwo Jima, and the Bonins.
Japan by now had no real hope of holding the Marshalls. Even though Premier Tojo still expected to wear down the American will to fight, he planned to do it by delaying in the Marshalls while strengthening the inner ring of defenses—especially at Peleliu, the Marianas and the Bonins.
The Marshalls were admirably suited to delaying action because there were so many of them. There were 36 true atolls —with perhaps 2,000 islets and islands—in this enormous chain running 650 miles on a northwest-southeast diagonal. They had been in Japan’s possession since they were seized from Germany in World War One, when Japan was on the side of the Allies and also acquiring such easy German booty as the Marianas, but Japan had not bothered to fortify them in any strength until just before the attack on the Gilberts at Makin and Tarawa.
Now there were six atolls on which she had based airfields. These were Eniwetok, Kwajalein, Wotje, Maloelap, Jaluit and Mili. Of these Eniwetok was the farthest west, closest to Japan. Kwajalein was in the center. Wotje and Maloelap were east and north; Jaluit and Mili were east and south. Vice Admiral Musashi Kobayashi, who was in command of the Marshalls, first began fortifying Wotje and Maloelap, but then came Tarawa, and emphasis was shifted to Jaluit and Mili—closest by far to the new American bases south in the Gilberts. Admiral Kobayashi paid little attention to Kwajalein or Eniwetok. They were fortified, of course, but nothing like the eastern atolls, and nothing at all like Tarawa. Kobayashi expected the Americans to attack on the eastern atolls, more likely on Jaluit and Mili.
Admiral Nimitz chose Kwajalein.
He chose it because by knifing right into the heart of the Marshalls he would bypass all those Japanese outposts on the eastern atolls, and he would make Kobayashi’s work there useless. The neutralizing of the bulk of 28,000 troops stationed in the Marshalls could speed up the war by opening both the Central Pacific and Southwest Pacific fronts.
More, Kwajalein Atoll was lightly defended, it had airfields, and its lagoon was the largest in the world. It was 65 miles in length and 18 miles in width within an atoll chain forming a shape best described as a flattened pyramid canted on its right-hand base. Its terminals were Ebadon Islet on the west, the twin islets of Roi-Namur about 40 miles to the east, and then Kwajalein Islet about 45 miles south of Roi-Namur and a bit to the east.
Nimitz was concerned only with Kwajalein Islet in the south, where a bomber field was under construction, and Roi-Namur in the north, where there was an excellent air base.
But Nimitz’ commanders—Admirals Raymond Spruance and Kelly Turner, General Howlin’ Mad Smith—were concerned about the risks of an operation against Kwajalein.
It could be taken, but afterwards the vast Pacific Fleet which had brought the assault forces to Kwajalein was going to be turned over to Admiral Halsey to cover General MacArthur’s proposed landing on New Ireland in the Southwest Pacific. The fleet’s withdrawal would leave the men on Kwajalein alone and at the mercy of a ring of hostile airfields, especially Eniwetok with its lines running directly back to Japan. Neither Spruance nor Turner nor Smith wanted to take on Kwajalein without first nailing down some or all of those airfield atolls in the east.
It was then that Admiral Nimitz took a long look at Majuro Atoll nestling almost exactly in the center of that quartet of outer bastions. It was then that Captain Jim Jones took his Recon Boys up to Majuro by destroyer while the greatest invasion fleet yet assembled waited for word of what he found there.
25
Mr. Michael Madison said, “Perhaps you gentlemen would like a drink?” and the Recon Boys of Captain James Logan Jones blinked and wondered if they were back on Apamama.
Though they were not—though they were on Majuro Atoll in the Marshall Islands—it was certainly true that one of this tall half-caste’s daughters had just shinnied up a coconut tree and had slid back down grasping a blue saki bottle filled with palm toddy. Now she was going up again for more and it looked like Majuro might be better than Apamama.
It was not this for which Lieutenant Harvey Weeks had led a platoon ashore on Majuro’s Calalin Islet, for which Lieutenant Leo Shinn had led the point of the platoon in its reconnaissance across the islet. They had come as the scouts of the big invasion force which was to arrive nine hours later. They had left Captain Jones back aboard their destroyer, inflated their rubber boats and passed through the same ordeal of confusion, surf and wind which had nearly swamped them off Apamama. They had talked to the Micronesians and found that there was only a Japanese warrant officer left on the island. That had been on the night of January 30.
Now it was the dawn of January 31 and here was Mr. Michael Madison offering glasses and palm toddy. Actually it was a moment worthy of celebration. The landing on Calalin at eleven o’clock the preceding night represented the first American invasion of soil which Japan had held prior to World War Two, and that “invasion” was made a “conquest” a little later when a Warrant Officer Nagata was surprised and captured.
Nagata said that the 300 to 400 Japanese who once garrisoned the island had been evacuated long ago. This piece of good news was relayed to Captain Jones. After some delays, Jones was able to message Admiral Hill to call off the bombardment of Majuro which had already begun. Luckily only a few shells had fallen, and most of Majuro’s valuable installations were unharmed. The 2nd Battalion, 106th Infantry, of the Army’s 27th Division could now come ashore unopposed, the work on the first of several airstrips could commence, Majuro Lagoon could be made into an anchorage—and Admiral Chester Nimitz could go ahead with the Marshall Islands conquest which had depended so much on the seizure of Majuro.
26
To bombard Kwajalein Atoll and transport the troops there, Admiral Turner had an enormous fleet of nearly 300 ships, including one big and ten smaller aircraft carriers and seven old battleships.
To make the assault on Kwajalein Islet in the south and Roi-Namur in the north, Major General Howlin’ Mad Smith, the expeditionary troops commander, had two full divisions and a brigade. Of this force, Smith would use the Army’s 7th Infantry Division against the southern islet and the Fourth Marine Division against Roi-Namur. The brigade, consisting of the orphan Twenty-second Marine Regiment and the remaining two battalions of the 106th Infantry, would be in floating reserve.
It was an overwhelming force, something like 40,000 troops going against Kwajalein Atoll’s 8,000 defenders, or whatever number survived the preinvasion bombardment and shelling which was to outdo anything attempted before. The Navy gunfire people had learned from Tarawa that pillboxes could only be knocked out with direct hits from big shells or big bombs, and that these missiles must be armor-piercing. Old battleships such as Maryland, Colorado, Tennessee, New Mexico, Idaho, Mississippi and Pennsylvania had been found to be ideal for bombardment. They had been schooled in it, had learned how to knock out beach installations with patient, pinpointed fire directed by the Joint Assault Signal Companies (JASCO) whose mission was to put ashore spotters trained in calling down naval gunfire. It had also been learned that neither shells nor bombs will destro
y underwater beach defenses. This had to be done by hand, by sailors who volunteered to swim into enemy beaches under covering gunfire and there to explode antiamtrack obstacles or to disarm underwater mines. They formed the Underwater Demolition Teams, and these too would be used for the first time at Kwajalein.
Impressive, too, was the massive preliminary bombing of December-January, during which land-based planes on Makin, Tarawa and Apamama dropped 1,677 tons of explosives on Kwajalein, Wotje, Maloelap, Mili and Jaluit. Carrier-based planes also hit these and other atolls with multiplying fury, sinking ships and damaging cruisers, knocking down planes and destroying them on the ground. Seventh Air Force high-altitude bombing added to the misery of the Marshalls. Then came 6,919 tons of naval shells fired against Marshalls targets for three days preceding and during the invasion. Already, as the American armada separated into Northern and Southern Attack Forces, the bombardment had killed Vice Admiral Michiyuki Yamada on Namur. Already a radioman on Roi-Namur had made this notation in his diary: “Convoy left Pearl Harbor on January 22 to attack us.”
A convoy had left Pearl Harbor on that date and it was the Northern Force headed for Roi-Namur. It carried the men of the Fourth Marine Division.
They had sailed from San Diego in California and had paused but a day in Lahaina Roads while their officers went ashore to confer with naval officers. Then they moved on, learning, a few days out of Hawaii, that they were sailing straight from the States to the battleground. Their zigzag course between San Diego and Roi-Namur Islets covered considerably more than the 5,000-mile beeline lying between these points and they began to boast of it; being a brand-new outfit, the Fourth was desperate for things to boast about. They hadn’t much, other than that among their ranks were the sons of five Marine generals—including Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vandegrift, Jr.—and that a private first class named Stephen Hopkins was also the son of Harry Hopkins, the right-hand man of President Roosevelt. Of course, Lieutenant Colonel Evans Carlson of Raider fame was on the division staff, and this was another desperate distinction.
But combat honors? No. Tradition, no. Even the Third Marine Division had a regiment able to claim descent from the Third Marines of World War One. Not so the Fourth. All their outfits were brand-new, born of the Marine Corps’ expansion from a 50,000-man prewar force to one now approaching half a million. The Fourth’s regiments had double-digit numbers that made them sound like Army outnts—the Twenty-third, Twenty-fourth, and Twenty-fifth Marines, the Fourteenth Marine Artillery, the Twentieth Marine Engineers. The Fourth Division was not nearly as well trained in amphibious operations as was that 7th Army Infantry Division which would take Kwajalein Islet to the south. The Marines themselves had trained the 7th, and the 7th had already been in battle at Attu, but the Fourth had not had much opportunity to train as a unit. Yet, green as it was, it was commanded by one of the most experienced leaders in the Marine Corps, Major General Harry Schmidt.
The sun helmet General Schmidt wore over his scowling face testified to his status as an old China hand. He had been assistant to the Marine Commandant. With Howlin’ Mad Smith he had been a pioneer in developing Marine amphibious techniques, and he had worked out a good plan to implement Smith’s novel tactic of landing artillery a day before the main body of infantry.
The First Marine Division landed on Guadalcanal, August 7, 1942, but the first major battle came two weeks later. A Japanese force led by Colonel Kiyono Ichiki (left) was annihilated at the mouth of the Tenaru River.
Sergeant Major Vouza of the Solomons Defense Force warned Marines of impending Tenaru assault, crawling to American lines after Japanese captured him, tortured him and left him for dead.
Marines, such as these riflemen crossing the Matanikau River, patrolled the jungle daily on the hunt for Japanese build-ups. Guadalcanal, begun as the first American offensive of World War Two, quickly became a defensive action, with Marines hanging on against Japanese attempts to retake island.
“Pistol Pete” was the nickname Marines gave to Japanese artillery. This 108-mm. rifle was captured at Kokumbona.
Marine stand brought third star and Medal of Honor to Alexander Vandegrift, a major general during the four months he commanded at Guadalcanal.
Vandegrift’s opponent, Lieutenant General Haruyoshi Hyakutate, was overconfident, fed in his troops piecemeal.
Whiskers such as Captain Joe Foss’s were common among Marine pilots who wrested control of Solomons air from Japanese. With 26 kills, Foss was second-ranking Marine ace of war.
RIGHT: Lieutenant James (Zeke) Swett became legendary for shooting down seven planes on his first combat flight. Swett’s feat was one of many outstanding performances during bitter aerial battle which raged over Solomons for six months after the Japanese quit Guadalcanal in February, 1943.
RIGHT BOTTOM: Staff Sergeant Bill Coffeen was a casualty of that fighting. Shot down over waters of The Slot, he spent 70 days wandering through islands. Natives found him floating on raft in delirious state and nursed him back to health.
The famous Chesty Puller won the third of his five Navy Crosses on Guadalcanal, and was also wounded there.
Manila John Basilone was a machine-gun sergeant in Puller’s battalion during night battle in which he won Medal of Honor. Basilone was killed at Iwo Jima more than two years later.
Bougainville in the Northern Solomons was the next big Marine assault, after numerous actions in Central Solomons. On November 1, 1943, landing boats began putting Third Marine Division ashore at Cape Torokina.
LEFT: Among Marine airmen who helped make Bougainville landing light in casualties was Lieutenant Robert (Butcher Bob) Hanson. He shot down three planes on D-Day, was downed himself, but survived. Hanson had total of 25 kills to his credit when death in action two months later cut short the most phenomenal career of any American flier.
RIGHT: Torokina Airfield became the base from which Major Gregory (Pappy) Boyington led his swashbuckling Black Sheep Squadron on the fighter sweeps which helped strangle the big Japanese base at Rabaul. Boyington (with paper) was later shot down and imprisoned, but his mark of 28 planes remained tops for Marine aces in World War Two.
Marines roll drums of oil out of Puruata Island dump that Japanese bombers set afire. Puruata, the storehouse for troops on Bougainville, was bombed night and day.
A machine-gun position in Bougainville rain forest.
Tarawa was next. Second Marine Division hit Betio, chief islet of the atoll, on November 20, 1943; many of them were killed and wounded under the fortified sea wall which surrounded the islet.
On Tarawa there were only the quick and the dead.
Many Marines, such as these riflemen working along pier, had to wade into Tarawa through withering fire. Amtracks, which were to take them ashore from reef a half mile out in lagoon, were knocked out early in the battle.
The sea wall on the second day of battle after the Marines had gradually forced their way into the island’s defenses. Colonel David Shoup (above) kept separated and battered Marines together during first critical two days and won Medal of Honor.
These Marines are fighting to take, not a hill, but the top of a Japanese bombproof. Japanese admiral inside this fort boasted his defenses were so strong that “a million men cannot take Tarawa in one hundred years.” They fell to about 15,000 Marines in less than four days.
Many Japanese on Tarawa killed themselves inside their bunkers. Man at left disembowled himself with grenade; man at right put rifle muzzle in mouth and pushed trigger with big toe. Marines regarded Japanese suicides as first sign of enemy collapse.
RIGHT: Fatherly Major General Julian Smith (right) commanded the Second at Tarawa. With him is his chief of staff, Colonel Merritt (Red Mike) Edson, the famous Raider leader and a hero of Guadalcanal.
In December, 1943, the First Marine Division was back in action. Here riflemen wade ashore at Cape Gloucester on New Britain.
War on New Britain was a hellish compound of mud and misery as Marines and Japanes
e fought each other during monsoon rains in some of the world’s foulest jungle.
Strain of battle is etched in face of machine-gunner George Miller as he comes off the line. Lieutenant Colonel Lewis (Silent Lew) Walt (below) helped gain New Britain victory by rallying Marines behind wheeled cannon, which they pushed uphill through enemy fire to storm vital height.
Spectacular explosion on Namur when Marines dynamited what appeared to be enemy blockhouse but was actually warehouse full of torpedo warheads. Only man of attacking squad to survive grim mistake was blown 200 yards into sea.
At Saipan in the Marianas on June 15, 1944, Japanese artillery had the beaches zeroed-in. Drenched Marine was blown from his landing craft. He ducks, with man beside him, to avoid shell fragments.
Big American naval guns always helped the Marines ashore, although this 16-inch shell hurled into Saipan failed to go off. Torn and frayed dungarees of Marine sitting on it testifies to grimness of battle.
Lieutenant General Holland M. (Howlin’ Mad) Smith (in helmet) toured battlefield with Admirals King (center) and Nimitz. Smith’s Fifth Corps—Second and Fourth Marine Divisions, 27th Infantry Division-took Saipan in 24 days. Marine divisions alone took nearby Tinian, the island from which the world’s first atomic bomb was flown to Hiroshima.
Strong Men Armed Page 29
