Storm Landings
Page 1
STORM LANDINGS
STORM
LANDINGS
EPIC AMPHIBIOUS BATTLES IN THE CENTRAL PACIFIC
Joseph H. Alexander
Naval Institute Press • Annapolis, Maryland
This electronic book has been brought to publication with the generous assistance of
The United States Naval Academy Class of 1945
This book has been brought to publication by the generous assistance of Marguerite and Gerry Lenfest.
Naval Institute Press
291 Wood Road
Annapolis, MD 21402
© 1997 by Joseph H. Alexander
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First Naval Institute Press paperback edition published in 2012.
ISBN: 978-1-61251-266-2
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Alexander, Joseph H.,
Storm landings : epic amphibious battles in the Central Pacific / Joseph H. Alexander.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index.
1. World War, 1939–1945—Amphibious operations. 2. World War, 1939–1945—Naval operations, American. 3. World War, 1939–1945—Pacific Ocean. 4. Amphibious warfare. I. Title.
D773.A7 1997
940.54’26—dc21
96-53479
This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).
20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First printing
Frontispiece: “The Wave Breaks on the Beach” by Kerr Eby (courtesy of U.S. Navy Combat Art Collection).
Epigraph on page vi taken from Saburo Hayashi and Alvin D. Coox, Kogun: The Japanese Army in the Pacific War (Marine Corps Association, 1959), page 110.
For Lt. Col. Robert Clark Caldwell, USMC (Ret.), 1933–1995
The tactics of the Americans called for hurling enormous firepower against the enemy and then making forced landings frontally. So-called “storm landings” were common American practice.
Col. Saburo Hayashi,
Imperial Japanese Army
Contents
List of Illustrations
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Prologue: Rags to Riches
Chapter OneCracking a Tough Nut
Chapter TwoPacific Proving Ground
Chapter ThreeTurning Point at Tarawa
Chapter FourThe Marianas: Storming the “Absolute National Defense Sphere”
Chapter FiveSharpening the Amphibious Ax
Chapter SixBloody Peleliu
Chapter SevenIwo Jima: Storming Sulfur Island
Chapter EightOkinawa: Amphibious Capstone
Chapter NineCollision Course: The Planned Invasion of Kyūshū
Epilogue: Parting Shots
Appendix: Ten Unforgettable Amphibians
Textual Notes
Notes on Sources
Bibliography
Index
Illustrations
Figures
Evolution of Japanese Special Naval Landing Forces
The Japanese Invasion of Guam
Japanese Type 98 (1929) 127-mm Dual-Purpose Gun
Japanese Beachfront Command Post
Quiet Lagoon
“Chaos Reigned”
Emergency MedEvac
Surprise Attack
Close Fire Support
Growth of Marine Corps Aviation
Changes in USMC Division Organization and Weapons
Japanese Antiboat Mines and Offshore Obstacles
Into the Jaws of Death
Japanese Model 1 (1941) 47-mm Antitank Gun
The Maestro
Evolution of Assault LVTs
Line of Departure
Logistical Masterpiece
Tactical Air Support Briefing
Japanese Mortars Used against U.S. Landing Forces
Thunder Road
Evolution of Amphibious Task Forces
“Ebb Tide”
Thomas J. Colley
Robert E. Galer
James L. Jones
Michael F. Keleher
Larry E. Klatt
Lewis J. Michelony Jr.
Eugene B. Sledge
Donald M. Weller
Maps
Tulagi and Gavutu
Pacific Theater
The Central and Northern Solomons
Betio Island, Tarawa
Saipan
Guam
Tinian
New Guinea
Peleliu
Iwo Jima
Okinawa
Kyūshū (Operation Olympic)
Foreword
Amphibious operations—the movement of armed forces over oceans to be disembarked from ships at sea onto a foreign shore—are as old as the history of warfare itself. However, not until World War II were the military art and science of conducting an assault—the most violent and near-final phase of an attack—perfected from ships at sea against fortified positions. Storm Landings, Col. Joe Alexander’s second work on amphibious operations in the Pacific during World War II, is the story of that evolution. It is a story worth reading not only because it is told well by a talented writer-historian, or because it is an exciting and instructive look at the past, but more important, it is worth reading because its lessons are a window to the future.
The United States is a maritime nation. Although we have neighbors across our land borders to both the north and south, our most continuous vital interests lie to the east and west—across the great expanses of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Since World War II we have maintained large, standing armies and air forces in foreign lands across these oceans, but that era is drawing to a close. In the decades to come, our national security strategy will change. For a variety of political and economic reasons, far fewer American forces will be permanently stationed in foreign countries. However, our national interests will continue to dictate the need for forward presence, alliance-maintenance, and immediate crisis response through the employment of naval and military forces from ships at sea in places far distant from our shores.
The great majority of these prospective operations will not be the violent, intense storm landings of the past, but some will. Whether they are or not, the perfection of the coordinated assaults from the sea Colonel Alexander has characterized as storm landings in World War II provided the blueprint that has shaped the capabilities of our current and emerging Navy of the twenty-first century and the doctrine by which land forces operate from these modern “sea-bases” now, as they will in the future.
Thus, the true value of Colonel Alexander’s insights into the storm landings of the past lies in the relevance of the lessons derived from them to the future. In this, his contributions will be not just novel, they will be enduring.
Carl E. Mundy Jr.
General, U.S. Marine Corps (Ret.)
Commandant of the Marine Corps, 1991–1995
Acknowledgments
This is a tribute to an extreme form of amphibious assault known as “storm landings” developed by American forces in the Central Pacific during the final two years of the war. I have defined storm landings as risky, long-range, large-scale, self-sustaining assaults executed against strong opposition and within the protective umbrella of fast carrier task forces. There were seven of these—Tarawa, Saipan, Guam, Tinian, Peleliu, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa—and a potential eighth, Kyūshū.
I concentrate on these specific amphibious epics at the cost of
other landings in other theaters. I even omit Operation Flintlock in the Marshalls, a campaign rich in strategic and doctrinal developments but not, by the above definition, a storm landing. I treat these other landings with full respect but not in detail, referring the reader to John A. Lorelli’s comprehensive To Foreign Shores. As a long-in-the-tooth amphibian myself, I have every admiration for any man of any service who ever landed on a hostile shore. By nature of the beast, there are no amphibious cake-walks. The work is extremely hazardous. Even under the most benign tactical conditions men drown, or get crushed by shifting cargo, or get run over by heavy equipment. Just getting safely ashore in the Pacific War was a minor triumph—storming ashore in the teeth of murderous Japanese fire added a dimension that today defies imagination.
This operational history also examines the desperate Japanese efforts to devise counteramphibious tactics and weaponry. The two antagonists were on a true collision course in southern Kyūshū. Operation Olympic, scheduled for November 1945, would have been—categorically—the bloodiest amphibious campaign of all.
This book is graced by the professional contributions of Mary Craddock Hoffman, who created the maps; Larry E. Klatt (himself a veteran of three storm landings), who sketched the Japanese weapons and defenses; Cindy Wheeler Lee, who illustrated the charts; and Bunichi Ohtsuka, who translated the original Japanese accounts for me.
As always, I benefited from the guidance of Brig. Gen. Edwin H. Simmons, USMC (Ret.), director of Marine Corps History and Museums, and Benis M. Frank, chief historian of the Marine Corps. Other military historians who provided support included Thomas B. Buell, Theodore L. Gatchel, John A. Lorelli, Dr. Allan R. Millett, Dr. Edward J. Drea, Dr. John Ray Skates, Richard B. Frank, Jon T. Hoffman, Dr. George F. Hofmann, Merrill L. Bartlett, Nathan Miller, Thomas J. Cutler, Henry I. Shaw Jr., James R. Davis, Joseph McNamara, and James C. Hitz.
Special thanks to these contributors: Gen. Carl E. Mundy Jr., USMC (Ret.), Lt. Gen. Victor H. Krulak, USMC (Ret.), the Honorable J. T. “Slick” Rutherford, William T. Ketcham, Nick Floros, Don C. Gorham, Douglas J. Colley, Dr. Eugene B. Sledge, Lewis J. Michelony Jr., Brig. Gen. Robert E. Galer, USMC (Ret.), Lt. Gen. James L. Jones Jr., USMC, Norma M. Crotty, Michael F. Keleher, M.D., and Col. Robert J. Putnam, USMC (Ret.).
In four years of researching and writing about the Pacific War, I’ve been blessed with exceptional editors, including Fred H. Rainbow and John G. Miller of Naval Institute Proceedings, Robert Cowley and John Tarkov of MHQ, William V. H. White of Leatherneck, Fred L. Schultz of Naval History, John E. Greenwood of Marine Corps Gazette, and Norman C. Stahl, chief creative director, Lou Reda Productions.
I also received invaluable research assistance from the following professionals: Naval Institute Press—Dr. Paul Wilderson, Linda W. O’Doughda, Randy Baldini, Susan Artigiani, Linda Cullen, and Susan Brook; U.S. Naval Institute—Paul Stillwell, Carol Mason, Mary Beth Straight-Kiss, Charles L. Mussi, Ann Hassinger; Marine Corps Historical Center—Evelyn A. Englander, Frederick J. Graboske, Danny A. Crawford, Robert V. Aquilina, Ann A. Ferrante, Lena M. Kaljot, Richard A. Long, Amy J. Cantin; Naval Historical Center—John Reilly, Kathy Lloyd; Marine Corps University—A. Kerry Strong; National Archives—Dr. Timothy K. Nenninger; Hoover Institution Archives—Linda Wheeler; Admiral Nimitz Museum—Helen McDonald; Pack Memorial Library, Asheville—Charles Cady Jr. I add thanks in particular to my gifted manuscript editor and indexer, Anne R. Gibbons, and to my astute proofreader, Barbara Johnson.
In the realm of close support, my thanks to Richard T. Poore, Stephen W. Woody, Edith H. Livengood, E. Gordon James, Lewis J. Kraus, my brother and fellow historian William T. Alexander, my son and California researcher, Kenneth B. “Keg” Alexander, and my wife, Gale, who patiently allowed storm landings to invade our mountain home and hearth these many months.
Errata
Page 76, map of Guam: The two points north and south of the Orote Peninsula are correctly spelled Asan and Facpi.
Page 108, paragraph two: The distance between Peleliu and Ulithi Atoll is about 400 miles.
Page 118, paragraph three: The Japanese defensive positions along the south defilade of “The Point” were hewn out of the coral face and armed with heavy machine guns and one notably effective 25-mm machine-cannon.
Page 147, paragraph four: The number of B-29 crewmen whose lives were probably saved when their crippled planes were able to make emergency landings on newly seized Iwo Jima is best estimated to be several thousand.
Page 194, paragraph two: The new landing craft control boats (LLCs) were “specialized” by virtue of being radar-equipped.
STORM LANDINGS
Prologue
Rags to Riches
Enemy task force of twenty ships attacking Tulagi, undergoing severe bombings, landing preparations under way; help requested.
Commander Japanese Forces,
Tulagi, 0705,
7 August 1942
The sudden appearance of an Allied task force in the Southern Solomons astonished the Japanese garrison scattered among the islands. Was it a raid? A feint? Or, heaven forbid, a real invasion? Excited Japanese officers scanned the threatening armada with field glasses, noting the presence of fully laden troop transports and cargo ships. They flinched as U.S. Navy F6F Hellcats and SBD Dauntless dive-bombers screeched overhead, realizing immediately that the Americans had committed their last remaining carriers to this operation. When waves of landing craft bearing heavily armed Marines converged on Tulagi’s undefended south coast the local commander knew he was in deep jeopardy. Radio Tulagi’s last message to Rabaul crackled over the airwaves a few minutes later: “Enemy troop strength is overwhelming. We will defend to the last man.”
Rear Adm. Richmond Kelly Turner’s Task Force 62 executed five separate landings in the Solomons on D-Day. Guadalcanal rightfully received the main effort, but four other landings occurred among the Florida Islands, nineteen miles north across a body of water soon to be known as “Iron Bottom Sound.”
The distinction of conducting the nation’s first offensive amphibious landing in the Pacific War went to Baker Company* of the 1st Battalion, 2d Marines, led by Capt. Edward J. Crane, USMC. Crane’s reinforced company of 252 officers and men splashed ashore from eight landing boats from the USS President Jackson (AP 37) at 0740 near Haleta on Florida Island. The Baker Company riflemen had the mission of securing the jungled peninsula to protect the left flank of Lt. Col. Merritt A. Edson’s 1st Raider Battalion during its assault on nearby Tulagi. This they promptly achieved.
Other American landings occurred in short order. The 1st Raiders charged ashore at 0800. Elements of the 1st Battalion, 2d Marines, seized Halavo Peninsula east of Tulagi half an hour later. To the south, the bulk of the 1st Marine Division landed over Red Beach on Guadalcanal at 0910. So far, so good. The Japanese defenders seemed too stunned to oppose the landings, although the 3d Kure Special Naval Landing Force on Tulagi soon recovered from its initial shock and began delivering a hot fire against the Raiders moving inland.
The Americans lacked sufficient landing craft to execute all five assaults simultaneously. As a consequence, the day’s fifth landing, the assault on the tiny islets of Gavutu and Tanambogo east of Tulagi, could not be mounted before 1400. The invaders had forfeited the element of surprise. To complicate matters further, Gavutu’s protective reefs permitted a landing approach only from the northeast. The waterborne route from the transport area to the target beach measured fourteen thousand yards—a two-hour transit against an eastern wind. The Americans, in short, telegraphed their punch, and the Japanese machine gunners had plenty of time to orient their killing zones.
Gavutu and Tanambogo were small, hilly islets, joined by the umbilical cord of a three-hundred-yard causeway. The existence of a major Japanese seaplane base made the islets a desirable secondary objective. Close to four hundred members of the Yokohama Air Group and the 3d Kure Special Naval Landing Force defended the two sites, many of them occupying prepared positions in hills
ide caves overlooking the flat beaches.
The mission of seizing first Gavutu and then Tanambogo went to the 1st Parachute Battalion, commanded by Maj. Robert H. Williams, USMC. The Paramarines were well trained, aggressive—and outnumbered. Four minutes of naval shelling and ten minutes of dive-bombing strikes did little to even the odds. The Japanese allowed the first wave to come ashore unmolested in order to mask any residual supporting fires, then cut loose with everything they had. Marines fell along the sandy beaches, in the surf, in their boats. Major Williams went down with a bullet through his lungs; two staff officers died at his side. The Paramarines pressed ahead grimly the rest of the long afternoon, then called for reinforcements.
Mary Craddock Hoffman
Captain Crane’s Baker Company was available, its outpost duty on Haleta Point done. Crane received urgent orders to reembark and hurry over to Gavutu. Arriving during the abrupt tropical sunset, Crane received further orders to assault nearby Tanambogo by boat that evening. Darkness added to the confusion. Crane could muster only five of his eight boatloads of troops, but these he led toward the neighboring island. As the second boat crunched ashore on Tanambogo, the supporting destroyer proved too helpful, detonating a fuel dump with its prep fires. The conflagration illuminated the entire miniature landing force. Japanese machine gunners scythed down the Marines as they tried to scramble ashore, then ripped their lethal streams the length of the crowded boats, hitting Marines and Navy crewmen alike. Crane and his NCOs somehow restored order out of chaos, set up a base of fire, then evacuated the wounded aboard the shot-up boats. Five hours later, he and his exhausted survivors made it back to the Marine lines on Gavutu. Failure of the night landing brought a sober conclusion to all who participated: the amphibians still had much to learn about assaulting fortified Japanese positions from the sea.