Boredom or danger
One of our field problems while in New Zealand (1943) was to get the .37-mm weapons across a stream in working condition, an exercise designed to test Marines' ability to improvise in the field. Someone came up with the idea of constructing a float by filling a large tarpaulin with brush and binding it together with rope. Two of these were constructed and the gun was muscled into place on the float. It worked well, but the worst part was wading into the cold water to drag it to the other shore. The stream was not too wide, but too deep to ford. They managed to get the gun across and continued with the exercise. As they came to a small house along the way, one of the locals invited them in for a hot cup of tea, which they readily accepted. They enjoyed the tea, the conversation, and the warmth of the house as they were still wet and cold from the crossing.
Waiuru training came to a halt and the troops were trucked back to McCay's Crossing. The days that followed were not too interesting, as many days in military service were to many men. Wars are full of many days of either boredom or danger. They did the training routine and stood inspections for gear and personal well being, all aimed at checking the skills of the men's functional readiness. They did some .50-caliber anti-aircraft machine gun firing, which was a joke to the men because you don't get proficient firing only 50 rounds of ammunition. But it was fun. The targets were towed behind a NZ aircraft, although no one even came close to hitting them. The shells were paint-coded to see which gunners had hit the target. The tow planes made about four passes and that ended the training.
Clean bodies, dirty minds
About that time Mrs. Roosevelt came overseas and visited the camp, staying in officers' country. There was a story that, after she left, someone placed a sign on the door of the head that read, Mrs. Roosevelt tinkled here in 1943. She was also alleged to have commented that, "Marines had the cleanest bodies — and the dirtiest minds of anybody in the service!" Probably true.
The days moved slowly, which is standard for military service. The days were getting summer-like as the seasons are reversed in the southern hemisphere. September in the USA is the beginning of autumn, yet Down Under spring is in full force during September. There was a restless undercurrent within the troops, a kind of expectancy. They could sense that something was going to happen, and it soon did.
The troop ships arrived at the docks again. The Marines knew that their landing training had long been secured and there was only one reason for the appearance of the ships — they were moving out.
The following days were a repetition of the many times before when the Marines were sent packing. All the company gear was inspected and crated; the guns were cleaned and secured for travel. There was a uniform inspection and an issue of new dungarees, shoes or whatever that was in need of replacement. The troops made plans for a good ol' company beer bust before going aboard ship.
Rumors abound
The usual rumors were going around as to where they were bound — Truk, Rabaul, the Marshalls. There were a lot of places to choose from, so no one had any real idea where they might be going. Such was not unusual as the troops never knew what's happening 'til they get where they're bound. Just like back in San Diego, the civilian population knew that the troops were leaving, yet that was suppose to be a big secret. No one seems to know where the information comes from, yet they always know. Fortunately the civilians also never knew where we were going.
There were fond farewells and dramatic partings between good friends and lovers, barkeepers and drinkers. Wellington was a sad place to be. Liquor consumption increased proportionately and those last goodbyes went on for days.
The ships slipped out of moorings in the dark of night; by the time the troops arose the next morning they were well out to sea. The usual pattern of ships (troop ships and naval escorts) had taken their places and the convoy steamed along at a pace set by the slowest ship. They recognized the old President liners: Hayes, Jackson, Grant as well as the Crescent City, which the Kid called home while at sea. He was back in the same Number Four Hold where he'd been during the last voyage as well as his first. The hold was still dark, hot, and poorly ventilated. He had tried to remedy that once by cutting a hole in the vent pipe that brought air into the compartment. The Navy was not too pleased with this and tried to charge him with a deck court, but his CO sent him ashore in New Hebrides to get him out of the way.
The routine of troops aboard ship was established. Gun watches were set and what small amount of policing that was necessary, to maintain order and cleanliness, was relegated to the few men who were on the roster. The Navy regulated the "clean sweeps" that were a part of every ship in the Navy. And so the time goes.
Destination: Tarawa
The call for all NCOs to muster on the ship's forward deck came early one morning about a week out of port. The Marines who'd been with the division before Guadalcanal knew what this meant — briefings about the coming landings were to be laid out for those in command. The Marines knew they were about to learn, finally, where they were going. The wait was long and interminable, or so it seemed.
It was after evening chow that the word came in the person of the platoon sergeant. He gathered his men around him in the hold's semidarkness and patiently explained as much as he'd been told. The landings were to be made on the atoll of Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands. It was a small island heavily fortified and was important to our advance across the Pacific. Tarawa's main feature was its landing strip, which would afford the Air Force a stepping stone toward the goal of striking directly at Japan.
Activity now centered on landing preparations. Each platoon was taken aside and informed of the role they'd play, where they'd be going ashore, and what was expected of them. The men knew the odds of all this going as was planned were 2-to-1 against it. They also knew that in any case all Marines are trained to rely on their own initiative and training, to pursue the mission's goal, and rely on each other as a team. None of them had any doubt that the landing would not be successful. Their morale was high, their faith was strong.
At that point the landings were about a week away. They loaded ammunition for the machine guns and inspected their weapons over and over. They also wrote letters.
Higgins boats to hell
As usual, the convoy approached their target island in the dark of night. They stood off some four miles from shore as the Navy began its shelling operation. The sound of the guns was clearly heard on the troop ships, as was the sound of the Higgins boats being put over the side. The troops arose way before dawn. Those who were in the first assault waves were fed first and put on the stand-by. They read or played cards to take their minds off the coming battle. They knew that some of them would not be coming back, but their natural sense of optimism kept them from believing it would be them. The Kid was not among those tagged for the first wave. He felt neither disappointed or relieved. He knew that he had no say in the matter. It could have been either way. It was just the roll of the dice.
The Navy continued to shell the island, being joined at dawn by dive bombers and strafing fighter planes. A pall of smoke and dust hanging over the atoll obscured its low-lying ground. From the ships, you could not see the results of the shelling and bombing. Tarawa just sat there, seeming to stare back at the searching eyes of the Marines on the decks of the troop ships.
The first waves had left the ships at 0330 and were in their rendezvous pattern somewhere off Tarawa's shores. Each wave loaded their boats according to a schedule posted from the battle-plans commission, made up of the command officers involved in planning the invasion. Subsequent waves boarded their boats in turn and proceeded to their areas of departure. The battleships had begun their shelling at 0500 and continued firing after finding their range. They poured shell after shell on the island, scoring hits on the big naval guns that were part of the Jap defenses. The huge shells struck the island's ammunition dumps and the fuel depots, sending huge columns of flame into the dark sky. Amazingly, the Japs fired back with the guns that somehow had been missed by our Navy's guns. They may have gotten off a couple of rounds before they were discovered and annihilated.
Sketchy intel
The first waves made their approach at around 0500. The waves were made up of landing craft and amphibious tractors that had the ability to cross the reef surrounding the atoll. The reefs were an impediment to the Higgins boats, stopping them from finishing their run to the beach. This factor had not been known, due to a lack of information about Tarawa's tides. We had no reliable sources of in- formation about these islands as there had been no studies made relative to such factors. The only reconnaissance information available was obtained from the British, who had manned the island prior to WWII. That data was sketchy, to say the least.
The bottom line was that the landing parties were all subject to the reef's conditions, leaving the invading Marines to wade ashore in water up to their chest. This left them vulnerable to enemy fire long before they could reach the beach itself. Our casualties were tremendous. Some companies lost two-thirds of their men in the first waves.
Only by pure grit did the Marines move forward, establishing a foothold here and there as small numbers of men made it to the sea-wall surrounding the gun positions. Tarawa's pier, jutting out into the cove, offered a way ashore for the guns and vehicles. The heat of battle had destroyed the pier early in the fighting, except for some shattered remnants. Only a few men, led by the Scout /Snipers and a courageous officer, were able to gain access to it and hold on to it by sheer force of determination and guts. The enemy fire upon this facility was tremendous. Hauling the gear from the boats up onto the pier under constant fire was costly of manpower, yet the efforts of those valiant Marines were superb!
As the day passed, the Marines pressed the battle and, little by little, they gained a foothold on Tarawa's beach. Heroic efforts under overpowering odds gradually turned the tide of battle toward the Marines' advantage. As the tides changed the boats were able to get in closer to the shore, undergoing heavy fire and incurring many casualties. But the successful delivery of Marines closer in added to the number of men ashore, increasing the power of Marines on Tarawa.
Marines pinned down on Tarawa's beaches
27 Sept. 1943 — First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, accompanied by Marine Brig. Gen. Archie Howard, visits a Marine cemetery on Guadalcanal. U.S. and Japanese forces fought from Aug. 1942 to Feb. 1943 to gain control of the strategically valuable island.
