Meanwhile, the men at Deniki could look down on Kokoda and see it was again in enemy hands. On August 12, as A Company circled around them, they witnessed large numbers of heavily armed Japanese troops moving off the plateau and heading their way. The evenly matched opposing forces prepared for battle. Cameron had approximately 450 Australians and Papuans defending a large perimeter. Colonel Tsukamoto launched his attack with a similar number of soldiers. The advantage was with the attackers, who could pick where along the perimeter they would strike, like a spear driving through a body.
The following morning the Japanese attacked in concentration against the position held by E Company. Despite numerous casualties, the Australians held the line for the entire day, yet it became clear they could not hold out much longer with just small arms against the Japanese, who had several mortars, machine guns, and the battalion gun. The shells rained down on the defenders all day and night, even when the infantry fighting had ceased.
On August 14, Tsukamoto began the day with a heavy bombardment from his big gun and mortars. Cameron, seeing the futility of his position, ordered a withdrawal to Isurava. The Australians fled in a hurry, leaving behind a huge quantity of ammunition and equipment, including blankets, tools, and food.28
The previous day, August 13, a Japanese convoy arrived at Basabua, near Buna, with three thousand members of two Naval Construction Units along with construction equipment, vehicles, and supplies for the army troops making their way up the Kokoda Track. The convoy had initially left Rabaul on August 6, but returned the next day because of the American invasion of Guadalcanal in the Solomons. An Allied amphibious fleet commanded by Rear Admiral Richard K. Turner landed sixteen thousand troops, most from the American 1st Marine Division, on Guadalcanal, Tulagi, and Florida Island. They met with only light opposition at first. The Japanese Naval Construction Units waited at Rabaul for possible redeployment to the Solomons in response.
A more powerful response to the Allied invasion came from Vice Admiral Gunichi Mikawa, who rushed his task force, comprising one destroyer, two light cruisers, and five heavy cruisers, south from the Bismarcks. Just after midnight on August 9, Mikawa launched a surprise attack on the Allied fleet under British rear admiral Victor Crutchley, consisting of eight cruisers and fifteen destroyers, covering the Marine landings. In this First Battle of Savo Island, the Japanese scored a decisive victory over the surprised Allied force, sinking four cruisers, resulting in over a thousand deaths. Mikawa’s task force suffered only moderate damage to three cruisers, with fifty-eight killed. To the surprise of many, Mikawa withdrew without actually attacking the transports that were still putting ashore men and supplies. The admiral and his staff decided that with daylight only a few hours away, and no air cover of their own, they risked attack from American carrier aircraft that they believed were in the neighborhood. Mikawa drew the ire of Admiral Yamamoto for failing to destroy the troop transports as he had ordered. However, true to form in the way the Japanese handled a lost opportunity, Yamamoto did not criticize Mikawa; instead, he sent him an official message of praise for his actions.29
Acknowledging the victory of Mikawa’s task force, the Imperial Navy convoy carrying the Naval Construction Units left Rabaul during the night of August 12, heading once again for Basabua. Despite attacks from Allied aircraft, the convoy reached its destination the next day and completed unloading the three thousand men, the vehicles, and seventy tons of supplies the following morning. On August 18, a more important convoy arrived. On board the three transports that sailed under warship protection was the main strength of the South Seas Force. This included the Headquarters Detachment under General Horii; two battalions of the 144th Infantry Regiment; two companies of the 55th Mountain Artillery; and various detachments from the 47th Field Anti-Aircraft Battalion, the 55th Cavalry, an antitank gun section, a medical unit, a water purification unit, seven hundred natives from New Britain to work as carriers or laborers, and 170 horses. Most of these forces headed for Kokoda.30
Meanwhile, fighting continued on and around Guadalcanal and would influence events in New Guinea for months to come as Imperial planners kept changing priorities between the two islands. Both were vital to Japanese plans of conquest and defense, but Tokyo did not have enough troops available to fight successfully on both fronts simultaneously. One example of distraction from New Guinea was the assignment of forty-nine-year-old Colonel Kiyonao Ichiki, commander of the 28th Regiment, to lead what was called the First Echelon of the Ichiki Detachment to capture Henderson Field, the airfield still under construction by the Americans on Guadalcanal. Driving the Allies out of Henderson was especially important because control of the field, once it was completed, would give the Allies a large base from which to launch land-based bombers against Imperial Navy ships in the Solomons area. Ichiki, considered by many a superb infantry tactician, was an interesting selection for this mission. As a company commander in China, he had provoked the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, which many historians date as the beginning of World War II. Ichiki’s instructions were to capture Henderson Field if it was lightly defended, or to wait for the arrival of the Second Echelon.31
The Ichiki Detachment, with Colonel Ichiki leading the way, landed on Guadalcanal from six destroyers on August 19, meeting with no opposition. Ichiki left 125 troops to guard the landing site and set off toward the airfield with 791 men, seeking an “opportunity for immortal fame.” Each soldier carried 250 rounds of ammunition and seven days’ food supply. A strong believer in night attacks, Ichiki planned a nighttime frontal assault against whatever force guarded Henderson. Unknown to him, the U.S. Marines were aware of the landing and had set a trap for the overconfident Ichiki. The fighting that ensued annihilated almost his entire detachment and he committed suicide. Fifteen of the invaders became prisoners. The Marines suffered thirty-five killed and seventy-five wounded.32
On August 21, two battalions of the Japanese 41st Infantry Regiment landed at Basabua (the third battalion remained in reserve at Rabaul). These tough, experienced troops had fought the British and Indian armies in Malaya. The regiment’s commanding officer, Colonel Kiyomi Yazawa, had a reputation as an aggressive leader and a strict taskmaster. September 2 saw the arrival of logistical and support units, including three hundred horses, and several hundred additional laborers from as far away as Korea and Formosa.33
Over 13,000 Japanese troops now occupied the coast, and another 3,555 were strung out along the track leading to Kokoda and beyond. The small airfield near Buna was quickly prepared for the arrival of several Zero fighters. A dummy airfield, intended to deceive Allied aircrews into attacking it instead of the real airfield, was also completed. The Imperial Army was now positioned to meet the requirements for success outlined by Army Chief of Staff General Sugiyama Hajime in July: “We must hold the fronts in eastern New Guinea and Rabaul to the end. If they fall, not only will the Pacific Ocean be in peril, but it will allow the western advance of MacArthur’s counterattack through New Guinea and herald the fall of our dominion in the southeast area.”34
—
That counterattack weighed heavily on the mind of the Allied commander in chief, General MacArthur. Also disturbing him was the lack of an aggressive air campaign against the convoys steaming from Rabaul to the east coast of New Guinea. Allied planes had inflicted minor damage on some enemy ships, while others were not attacked at all. MacArthur had never been happy with SWPA Air Force chief General George Brett ever since Brett had sent decrepit aircraft to rescue him from Mindanao. Matters had not improved when he discovered that Brett had suspended air operations for July 18 and 19, despite MacArthur’s having informed him that Japanese troop transports were off the New Britain coast and headed toward New Guinea. These were the first troops that landed at Buna and Gona. Brett’s explanation was that his crews were exhausted and suffering from low morale. By the time he sent aircraft in search of the enemy convoy, weather conditions caused bad visibility. When his aircr
aft finally did locate the ships, they were already unloading their cargoes. Several bombing runs proved disappointing.35
That there was bad blood between MacArthur and Brett was clear to almost everyone. When Lieutenant Colonel Samuel E. Anderson, an officer sent to SWPA to survey Air Force needs, returned to Washington, Chief of Staff General Marshall had asked him whether he thought Brett should be relieved. Anderson’s response was a definite yes, and he explained, “As long as General MacArthur and General Brett are the commanders in the Southwest Pacific, there is going to be no cooperation between ground and air, and I don’t think you are going to relieve General MacArthur.”36
A widespread feeling persisted both in Washington and at MacArthur’s headquarters that Brett was not being aggressive enough and was relying too much on the Australians. In addition, he had evidently formed a close relationship with the Australian political party out of power (it was rumored the party had offered him overall command if they won the next election). He had integrated crews and staffs, so that an American bomber pilot would often have an Australian copilot next to him in the cockpit. This was an arrangement that neither Marshall and nor U.S. Air Force chief Lieutenant General Henry “Hap” Arnold thought was effective. Arnold maintained, “The Australians have been operating our combat units in accordance with their doctrines and no attempt has been made on our part to regain control.” According to Major General Robert C. Richardson, whom Marshall had sent to SWPA to investigate conditions, resentment also existed “throughout the entire command from top to bottom,” over American pilots receiving their mission instructions from Australians.37
When Marshall and Arnold offered MacArthur several possible replacements for Brett, MacArthur made clear that he wanted someone with actual combat experience. Everyone was surprised when he gave an unqualified yes to the suggestion that Major General George C. Kenney replace Brett. Although Kenney had flown forty-seven missions against the Germans in World War I and had shot down two enemy planes, MacArthur, when he was chief of staff, had had to suppress Kenney’s campaigning for an air force independent of the Army.38
Probably no one was more surprised than Arnold, who had responded to the suggestion of Kenney by one of his staff by wondering how MacArthur would “get along with sharp, gruff, and forceful George Kenney if he couldn’t take smooth and capable George Brett.”39
Before leaving for Australia, General Kenney spent several days in briefings concerning SWPA and its place in the war plan. What he learned was that “no one is really interested in the Pacific, particularly the SWPA.” Despite this, his admiration for MacArthur and his enthusiasm for the new assignment were undiminished.40
The fifty-three-year-old major general who arrived at MacArthur’s headquarters on July 30 looked like anything but the dashing airman who was going to take over command of all Allied air forces in SWPA. At five feet five and a half inches tall, Kenney was a bit on the bulky side. He had closely cropped, graying hair, and his blue eyes appeared to take in everything. His most distinguishing feature was a jagged line across the right side of his chin, the result of an aircraft accident. Journalist Clare Boothe Luce described him as “a bright, hard, scar-faced little bulldog of a man.”41
Kenney spent his first hour with MacArthur listening to him vent about the shortcomings of the Air Force in general and the SWPA Air Force in particular. He later said MacArthur looked “a little depressed . . . tired, drawn, and nervous.” As far as MacArthur was concerned, Brett’s aircrews had done nothing right, and were little more than “an inefficient rabble of boulevard shock troops whose contribution to the war effort was practically nil.”42
Some of this may have been MacArthur’s response to the deficiencies of his air force at a time when he knew airpower over New Guinea was what would spell the difference between victory and defeat. Some might have been his way of testing how Kenney would react to such pressure, as Kenney himself suspected.43
When MacArthur paused to take a breath, Kenney stood and told him he “knew how to run an air force as well as or better than anyone else.” He would be loyal to MacArthur, something the commander in chief suspected Brett wasn’t, and he would “produce results.”44
Impressed by his new air commander, MacArthur put his arm around Kenney’s shoulders and told him, “George, I think we are going to get along together alright.”45
The two then sat for over another hour discussing the war. Despite his isolation from the fighting in Europe, MacArthur demonstrated his understanding of events there. He told Kenney that the opinion then common among officials in Washington that Hitler would soon force Russia out of the war was wrong. Although the Germans were better soldiers than those fighting for Stalin, he believed Hitler had already overextended himself by failing to provide his forces with adequate road and rail communications. The Russian winter and the overwhelming Russian numbers would bleed the German army white.46
His meeting with MacArthur completed, Kenney departed on a survey of air force facilities in Australia and New Guinea. What he discovered was that “I had about 150 American and 70 Australian aircraft, scattered from Darwin to Port Moresby and back to Mareeba and Townsville, with which to dispute the air with the Jap. He probably had at least five times that number facing me and could get plenty more in a matter of a few days by flying them in from the homeland. I issued orders that no more airplanes were to be salvaged [for parts]. We would rebuild them, even if we had nothing left but a tail wheel to start with.”47
—
Satisfied he had a competent man who would sweep the “dead wood” from the SWPA Air Force, MacArthur returned his attention to New Guinea. He had earlier ordered the Australian 7th Division to New Guinea, one battalion to Milne Bay, the other to Port Moresby. These were experienced combat troops led by a highly regarded combat commander, forty-seven-year-old Major General Arthur S. Allen. Allen had fought in World War I, led the 7th Division against Vichy forces in Syria and Lebanon, and commanded a brigade at Tobruk against the Germans before being called home to defend Australia.
Soon hundreds of Australians—some inexperienced militia, others combat veterans—made the slow, grueling climb toward Isurava to support the troops attempting to stop the Japanese advance. The 2/27th Battalion from General Allen’s 7th Division was among the first to leave the Port Moresby area. Commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Arthur Key—a thirty-six-year-old former assistant sales manager from Victoria who had served in Libya, Crete, and Greece—517 men and 24 officers began their trek to the battle area on the morning of August 16. By late afternoon, they reached Uberi, a village thirty-two miles from the capital. Dragged down by nearly constant rainfall and mud that sucked the boots off some men, each soldier carried a seventy-pound load.
The following day was especially challenging, as the troops had to climb the “golden stairs.” These “stairs” consisted of several thousand pieces of logs that had been jammed into the muddy mountainside and held in place by wooden pegs. Behind each log, which was set at irregular heights, the “step” filled with putrid mud and filthy water that caused the climbers’ feet to slip. Overloaded and exhausted, the men slipped and fell off the steps and crashed into one another. Many were reduced to making the climb on their hands and knees as the rain pounded down on them and the stairs spilled over with rapidly running, yellowish, stinking water. The first section rose some 1,300 feet in less than two miles, dropped 1,600 feet, and rose again over 2,200 feet in two and a half miles. Some companies took twelve hours to complete the total nine-mile trek up and down.48
By the time they reached their destination, many soldiers were in no shape to fight the Japanese. Twenty-seven-year-old Captain Philip E. Rhoden described the conditions of his men: “Gradually men dropped out utterly exhausted—just couldn’t go on. You’d come to a group of men and say, ‘Come on! We must go on.’ But it was physically impossible to move. Many were lying down and had been sick . . . some ate, others lay and were si
ck, and others just lay. Some tried to eat and couldn’t.”49 In addition to fatigue, the men were beginning to show signs typical of New Guinea: dysentery, fever, open wounds caused by the ripping of the undergrowth. Japanese survivors later referred to the Kokoda Track as “the path of infinite sorrow.”
Matters were not much better on the other side. With the arrival of General Horii, Japanese troop morale was at its highest level despite the fact that the more progress they made in pushing the Australians back, the more tenuous was their line of communication and supply from the coast. The more than 3,500 men posted from Deniki and Kokoda to the front line facing Isurava required roughly three tons of food and supplies daily. Trucks and other wheeled vehicles moved them about twenty miles from the coast along the slippery and still-dangerous log road built by the Japanese engineers, often subject to Allied air attacks. From this point, they were unloaded onto the heads of native carriers, including some who had been brought from New Britain and as far away as Korea for this backbreaking duty.
As they marched, carriers suffered terribly, from the mud and unbearable humidity of the lower altitudes, to the freezing cold of the higher levels. Horii estimated that he would require 4,600 carriers tramping along the track to keep his men fully supplied for combat. A major problem was that as the trek stretched out to a twenty-one-day round trip, the carriers consumed an increasing amount of their load simply to keep up their strength. There was also the constant problem of carriers falling ill, tumbling to their deaths over cliffs, and desertion. The latter increased as the days dragged on and the men became increasingly homesick for families and villages.
War at the End of the World Page 16