The Corps II - CALL TO ARMS

by W. E. B Griffin

  8 August 1942

  In compliance with Operations Order (Classified SECRET) No. 71-42, from Commander in Chief, United States Pacific Fleet, Task Group 7.15 (Commander John M. Haines, USN) got underway at 0900 hours, Hawaiian time.

  Task Group 7.15 consisted of the submarines USS Argonaut (Lt. Commander William H. Brockman, Jr., USN) and USS Nautilus (Lt. Commander J. H. Pierce, USN); and Companies A and B, 2nd Raider Battalion, USMC (Lt. Colonel Evans F. Carlson, USMCR).

  The mission of Task Group 7.15 was to land a force of Marines on Makin Island, where they were to engage and destroy the enemy; to destroy any enemy matйriel stocks they found; to destroy any buildings, radio facilities, and anything else of military or naval value; and then to withdraw.

  There was never any consideration given to holding Makin Island once it had been taken. It would have been impossible to supply, much less reinforce. And there was nothing the Americans wanted with the island anyway.

  It was a raid, the purpose of which was to force the Japanese to reinforce all of their islands, in order to attempt to prevent subsequent Raider raids. To do so, it was reasoned, would force the Japanese to assign troops and materiel to protect all their islands, and that the troops and materiel so assigned would therefore not be available for use elsewhere.

  There would also be some positive public relations aspects of a successful raid; the American ego was still smarting from Pearl Harbor and the fall of the Philippine Islands. In that sense, it would be the Navy's answer to the Air Corps's bombing of the Japanese homelands by a flight of B-25 aircraft commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle.

  There were some cynics. They claimed it made absolutely no sense to spend so much time and effort putting several hundred Marines ashore on an island of little importance-and which we did not intend to keep, anyway. Such a raid would indeed force the Japanese to station then on all of their islands, but doing so would pose fewer problems for the Japs than it would, in the future, for the United States. After the Makin Raid, they believed, we would have to fight our way ashore on every island we wished to take and keep. And that would cost lives.

  There were even those who said that the whole Raider concept was a Chinese fire drill, because the President's son was involved and because the Commandant didn't have the balls to tell the President the whole idea was a drain on manpower and resources that could be better used elsewhere.

  The dissent was heard, duly noted, and ignored.

  The Argonaut (She was to be sunk by Japanese destroyers between Lae and New Guinea on 10 January 1943) was a one-of-a-kind submarine. She was designed in 1919 to be something of a copy of the German U-Cruiser class, and she was intended for use for both long-distance cruising and underwater mine laying. She was launched at Portsmouth on November 10, 1927, and commissioned on April 2, 1928. Powered by two German-made MAN diesel engines developing 3,175 horsepower, she was capable of making fifteen knots on the surface. And her electric motors would move her at eight knots submerged. She was armed with two six-inch cannon, three 30-caliber machine guns, and four 21-inch torpedo tubes. Immediately after Pearl Harbor, she had gone through a refit at Mare Island Navy Yard, converting her to a transport submarine.

  The Nautilus was one of two submarines of the Narwhal class. Generally similar to the Argonaut, she did not have a mine-laying capability. When she was launched at Mare Island in March 1930, she had MAN diesels, but these were replaced by Fairbanks Morse engines just before World War II. She had two aft-firing torpedo tubes plus four forward firing and was armed, like the Argonaut, with two 6-inch Naval cannon.

  Both vessels were considerably larger than "fleet" submarines of the period, and for this reason had been chosen to transport the elements of the 2nd Raider Battalion charged with making an attack upon the Japanese-held Makin atoll, which lay 2,029 nautical miles to the southwest, roughly halfway between Hawaii and Australia.

  The Argonaut and the Nautilus were led through the antisubmarine cables and other defenses of Pearl Harbor, and for some distance at sea by a patrol craft (PC 46), which stood by while (at 1500 hours) the submarines dived to test hull integrity and to determine trim. At 2015 hours, the Argonaut left the formation, under orders to visually reconnoiter the Makin atoll before the arrival of the Nautilus.

  At 2100 hours the patrol craft was released as escort and the Nautilus got underway to rendezvous with the Argonaut off Makin Atoll.

  (Three)

  Makin Island

  0530 Hours, 17 August 1942

  Not surprising Second Lieutenant Kenneth J. McCoy one little bit, the landing was all fucked up.

  The faithful Gunnery Sergeant Zimmerman, leading a couple of squads, was at his side as they lay in the sand fifteen yards off the beach. The trouble with the situation was that Zimmerman was with Able Company, and Lieutenant McCoy was performing his duties as a platoon leader with Baker Company. He didn't know where Zimmerman was supposed to be, except that it wasn't here.

  A large Raider came running up and dropped on his belly beside McCoy. "How's it going?" he asked cheerfully.

  Under the circumstances, McCoy decided, since they were where they were, and since the large Raider was his little brother, he would not deliver a lecture on the proper manner for a corporal to address a commissioned officer and gentleman. Then he noticed the awesome weapon, a Boys antitank rifle ((A British weapon, essentially an oversize bolt-action rifle. Loaded, on its monopod, it weighed almost forty pounds. Fed with a top-mounted clip, the.55-caliber weapon fired a tungsten-cored bullet larger than the U.S..50-caliber machine-gun round. It had proved ineffective against German tanks, but it was believed it would be effective against lighter armored Japanese vehicles), with which Tom was armed.

  "Where'd you get that, Tommy?" McCoy asked.

  "I gave it to him," Zimmerman said, softly. "We got orders to bring the sonofabitch and he's the only one big enough to carry it, much less shoot it."

  McCoy chuckled.

  "I'm going to blow some Jap general a new asshole," Tommy said confidently. "A big new asshole."

  McCoy looked up at the sky. It was lighter than it had been; dawn was obviously breaking, but it was still dark. Too dark, he decided, to order Zimmerman to go look for his officers and find out where he was supposed to be. That would just add Zimmerman and his bunch to those already milling around in the dark.

  "Stay here," McCoy said, and crawled back to the beach. Then he stood up, because he couldn't see lying down.

  The force had been loaded into eighteen rubber boats. And they had planned to land at several points along the seaside shore of Butaritari Island. But at the last minute (when, in McCoy's private opinion, Colonel Carlson had seen how fucked up the offloading from the subs into the boats had gone), Carlson had the word passed that everybody was to land at Beach "Z," which was across the island from Government House.

  What everybody called "Makin Island" was correctly "Makin Atoll," a collection of tiny islands forming a small hollow triangle around a deep-water lagoon. The base of the triangle, shaped like a long, low-sided "U," was Butaritari Island, the largest of the islands. Off its northern point was Little Makin Island. When they had finished here, the Raiders were scheduled to attack and to destroy what personnel and materiel might be found there.

  What civilization there was on Butaritari Island was all on the lagoon side-wharves running out from warehouses and buildings to the deep water of the lagoon. To the north of the built-up area were Government Wharf and Government House, now the Japanese headquarters. That was where the vast bulk of the Japanese forces were supposed to be.

  McCoy counted rubber boats. He counted fifteen; that meant three were missing.

  On the beach somewhere out of sight? Or swamped?

  A trio of Raiders came running down the beach in a crouch, their weapons (Thompsons and Garands) at the ready.

  "Whoa!" McCoy ordered.

  Somewhat sheepishly they stopped, stood erect, and looked at him. Privately hoping it would set
an example, McCoy had elected to arm himself with a Garand rather man with any of the array of gung ho automatic weapons in the arms room. He thought that the planned operation called for rifles… and not submachine guns that most people couldn't shoot well anyway, or carbines, whose effectiveness as a substitute for a rifle he questioned.

  Their faces were streaked with black grease, and they were wearing what looked like, and in fact were, khaki uniforms that had been dyed black. There was no more India ink in the drafting offices at Camp Catlin, but the Raiders had the black uniforms Carlson couldn't find in quartermaster warehouses anywhere.

  "We've been looking for you, Lieutenant," the corporal said, somewhat defensively.

  "Where are you?" McCoy asked, clearly meaning the rest of the platoon.

  The corporal gestured down the beach behind him. "About a hundred yards, sir."

  "You run into anybody from Able Company?" McCoy asked.

  "Yes, sir, there's a bunch of them down there, sir," the corporal said.

  "You two stay here," McCoy ordered the two Raiders. Then he pointed at the corporal. "You go get the others," he said, and pointed inland. "I'm about fifteen yards in there."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the corporal said, and started down the beach.

  Colonel Carlson appeared, coming up the beach.

  McCoy Saluted.

  "Oh, ifs you, McCoy," Carlson said. "Getting your people sorted out?"

  "Yes, sir," McCoy said. "I've got at least a platoon of Able Company with me. I'm about to send them down the beach."

  "Good," Carlson said. "But despite the confusion, so far so good."

  "Yes, sir," McCoy said.

  The unmistakable crack of a.30-06 cartridge broke the stillness, clearly audible above the hiss of the surf.

  "Oh, shit!" McCoy said, bitterly.

  There was no following sound of gunfire. Just the one shot.

  "What was that?" one of the Raiders asked, when neither Colonel Carlson nor McCoy spoke.

  "That was some dumb sonofabitch walking around with his finger on the trigger," McCoy said furiously. "He might as well have blown a fucking bugle."

  "I think this might be a good time for you to join your men, McCoy," Colonel Carlson said, conversationally, and then walked back down the beach.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  (One)

  Butaritari Island, Makin Atoll

  0700 Hours, 17 August 1942

  At a quarter to six, a runner from Lieutenant Plumley's Able Company had reported to Colonel Carlson that his point (that is, the leading elements of Plumley's troops) was at Government Wharf and that he had captured Government House without resistance. Carlson sent the runner back with orders for Plumley to move down the island in the direction of the other installations, that is to say, southeast, or to the left.

  Carlson had expected the bulk of Japanese forces to be in the vicinity of Government House, and had made his plans accordingly. Now it seemed clear to him that the Japanese were in fact centered around On Chong's Wharf, about two miles away. If he had known that, he could have ordered Plumley to move quickly down the island, so that he could get as far as possible before he encountered resistance.

  But once the presence of the Raiders on Butaritari became known to the Japanese-and the goddamned fool who had fired his Garand had taken care of that-the situation would change rapidly. If he were the Japanese commander, Carlson reasoned, he would move up Butaritari's one road as fast as he could, until he ran into the enemy.

  Carlson's prediction was quickly confirmed. Another runner appeared, saluted, and, still heaving from the exertion of his run, announced, "We got Japs, Colonel."

  Carlson extended his map.

  "Show me where, son," he said, calmly.

  When the runner pointed to the Native Hospital, Carlson nodded. His professional judgment was that the Japanese commander had established his line at the best possible place; the island was only about eleven hundred feet wide at that point.

  He turned to his radio operator and told him to try to raise either of the submarines. So far Carlson's radio communication with the submarines had been just about a complete failure, but his time, he was lucky.

  "I got the Argonaut, sir," the radio operator reported.

  Carlson snatched the microphone and requested Naval gunfire on both the island (to shell Japanese reinforcement routes) and the lagoon, where two small ships were at anchor.

  "We do not, repeat not," the Argonaut replied, "have contact with our spotter."

  "Then fire without him," Carlson snapped, and tossed the microphone to the radio operator.

  There came almost immediately the boom of the cannon firing, and then the whistle of the projectile in the air. Then there was the sound of a shell landing on the island, and almost simultaneously an enormous plume of water in the lagoon.

  "Get them again, if you can," Carlson ordered the radio operator. "Tell them to keep it up."

  Without thinking about it, without realizing he was doing it, Carlson counted the rounds fired by the cannon on the submarines, just as a competitive pistol shooter teaches you to habitually count shots. When the booming stopped, he was up to sixty-five, and both of the ships in the lagoon were in flames.

  And then the Nautilus called him, and before the voice faded, Carlson heard that the Japanese-language linguist aboard the Nautilus had heard the Japanese send a message in the clear reporting the Raider attack and asking for reinforcements. Carlson asked if there had been a reply, but the radio was out again.

  That made Carlson think of McCoy, and to wonder if it would not have been smarter to leave him aboard the Nautilus or not even bring him along at all. Japanese-speaking Americans were in short supply.

  A moment later, McCoy showed up in person.

  "I thought you would want to know what we're facing, sir," he said, and pointed out on Carlson's map the locations of four Japanese water-cooled machine guns, two grenade launchers, and a flame thrower.

  "They got riflemen, a bunch of them, filling in the blanks in the line," McCoy said, pointing, "and snipers in the tops of most of the coconut trees along here."

  "You didn't want to send a runner?"

  "I didn't have one handy that I trusted with a map, sir," McCoy said.

  "Well, then, Lieutenant, you can just keep running. Go find the Baker Company commander and tell him I said to get moving, down the island."

  "Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said, and ran off.

  In the next four hours, a procession of runners reported that Baker Company was making slow but steady progress down the island.

  At 1130, two Japanese Navy Type 95 reconnaissance planes appeared over the island, flew back and forth for fifteen minutes, dropped two bombs, and then flew away. Carlson knew that meant the Argonaut and the Nautilus, essentially defenseless against aircraft, had dived, and there was no longer any reason even to try to raise them on the radio.

  The Nautilus surfaced again at 1255, but immediately dived again after their radar detected a flight of twelve aircraft approaching the island. The submarines would remain submerged until 1830 hours.

  At 1330, the Japanese aircraft arrived over Butaritari Island. It was quite an armada: two four-engined Kawanishi flying boats (bombers); four Zero fighters; four Type 94 reconnaissance bombers; and two Type 95 seaplanes. They promptly began to bomb and strafe the Raiders, and they kept it up for an hour and a half, but without doing much real damage.

  Then, apparently convinced they had wiped out whatever antiaircraft capability the Raiders might have had, one of the four-engined Kawanishis and one of the Type 95s landed in the lagoon. They were promptly engaged by.30-caliber Raider machine-gun fire. The Type 95 caught fire. And the Kawanishi hurriedly taxied out of.30-caliber range and began to discharge its passengers-thirty-five Japanese soldiers intended to reinforce the Butaritari garrison-apparently oblivious to the fact that a slow but steady fire from a Boys.55-caliber antitank rifle was being delivered.

  When the Kawanishi made its ta
keoff, it almost immediately entered into a series of violent circling maneuvers. The last of these sent it, with an enormous splash, into the lagoon.

  The Japanese aircraft that remained over Butaritari then left, but more Zeros returned at 1630 and bombed and strafed the island for another thirty minutes. From the way they were flying and choosing to drop their bombs, it was evident to Carlson that there was little if any communication between the Japanese defenders of Butaritari and the aircraft that came to their assistance: The Zeros were attacking a portion of the island he had ordered the Raiders out of (to better counter Japanese sniper fire). And the Japanese had promptly moved into this position. The Zeros were consequently attacking Japanese positions and troops.

  By 1700, Carlson understood that he had an important decision to make. He had two options. His mission was to destroy enemy forces and vital installations, and to capture prisoners and documents. So far, the Raiders had killed a number of Japanese, but there were no prisoners, no documents, and no serious damage to installations.

  Choice One was to continue his advance.

  But the operations plan called for the Raiders to evacuate Butaritari at some time between 1930 and 2100. And it also called for attacking Little Makin Island the next morning.

  Choice Two was to hold his present position and make a very orderly withdrawal by stages to the beaches, the boats, and ultimately the submarines. If he did that, he would be in a position to attack Little Makin on schedule. After some thought, he decided that made the most sense.

  By 1900, Carlson had established (under his own command; he felt it his duty to be the last Marine off the beach) a covering force for the disengagement, and the bulk of the Raiders were on the beach, loading the rubber boats for the return to the submarines, which had surfaced at 1845, and were now prepared to cover the withdrawal with Naval gunfire in addition to taking the Raiders aboard.

  But now he was facing another enemy, the sea. The surf, which had posed no serious problems as they landed, now wouldn't let them off the island. This came as a surprise; for the waves were not especially large. And until he actually got in them, he didn't see what the problem was. They were moving very fast, and succeeding waves piled in very quickly. The trouble was that the waves were crowded too close together for the boats to operate.