Strong Men Armed
Page 43
But they had driven a deep salient into the enemy’s lines and had covered the Fifth Marines to their right against possible flanking fire. The cost?
“We’re up here,” reported the single company commander who had survived. “But we’re knee-deep in Purple Hearts.”
In the morning, there were more casualties all along the line, for the Second Battalion’s salient in fact had made a shallow W of the entire front from west to east coast. The Japanese took advantage of the W and hammered hard at its joints, counterattacking and shooting the gaps where they found them. Hill 200 shook to constant battle, and Colonel Puller was forced to take G Company from the Second Battalion, Seventh, given him as a reserve, and rush it up to bolster the line. The Marines held, and in the morning of September 18, the attack went forward in an attempt to straighten out the W. It went forward at seven o’clock with the thermometer already rising to 115 degrees, and each man issued a dozen salt tablets and two canteens of water to resist the Umurbrogal’s horrible heat. The guns of both armies had stripped the battleground of all shade. Everything lay open to the sun, which hung in the sky like a burning ball above a jumble of blinding white coral rubble. The Marines were lying out on this like fish gasping on a skillet. The enemy was in his caves, cool and covered.
Marines dropping of heat exhaustion were helped to the rear to be revived with intravenous feedings of normal saline. Then they returned to battle, their camouflage nets pulled out from beneath their helmets and hanging over the back of their necks like the kepis of the French Foreign Legion.
In this heat, Chesty Puller roamed his command post stripped to the waist, his pipe stuck in one corner of his mouth while he issued his orders from the other. Puller had already relieved his badly mauled First Battalion and placed the Second Battalion, Seventh, in the center of his line. He had fed 115 men from the First Pioneer Battalion into the other depleted battalions. His own regiment’s casualties were 1,236, not counting combat fatigue or heat exhaustion, or about one-third—and most of these were among Marines of the line. But Puller was optimistic, as was Major General Rupertus. High ground had been reached the day before, had been held during the night, and now the enemy collapse was imminent.
It had always happened that way. Once the Marines had fought into dominating terrain, Japanese resistance had weakened until it had been utterly broken by a last banzai. Although there had been no banzai as yet, there was no reason not to expect one.
Nor could Puller or anyone else conceive of the depth of the position under attack. There had been a few uneasy reflections on the 35 unmapped caves which the First Battalion had been forced to knock out the day before, but no one dreamed that so many hundreds more awaited them in the higher ridges, as no one doubted the efficacy of the naval gunfire, artillery and air strikes preceding each assault, laying bare more and more of the Umurbrogal’s ugly white pate.
But on this September 18 there were so many more caves, so many more troops and guns in those higher ridges that the attacks of the Second Battalions, Seventh and First, were quickly fragmented center and left. Though the object was to pinch out the Japanese on Hill 210 inside the first V of the W, the Marines were attacking in every direction of the compass, for they were under fire from every direction. It was a bloody scramble of squads or platoons, with here and there a surviving officer rounding up the remnants of a company and leading them on until the Hill 210 bulge was erased. And the Japanese in surrounding ridges retaliated by bringing down such a murderous fire on the Second Battalion, First, and by mounting a series of counterattacks so savage that Lieutenant Colonel Russell Honsowetz reported that he might not be able to hold.
“What d’yuh mean, cain’t hold?” Puller roared. “You’re there, ain’t you, Honsowetz?”
Then, while a smoke barrage was laid down to conceal Honsowetz’ position, Puller ordered B Company out of the First Battalion reserve to a point forward and right of besieged Hill 200. B Company went up it in a rush. But it was only an isolated ridge. It did not relieve much of the pressure on the Second Battalion, First. B Company pushed on. They came to a system of peaks and palisades called The Five Sisters, a complex running transverse to the entire Umurbrogal. They attacked it.
They were hurled to the ground.
They had come to the heart of Colonel Nakagawa’s infernal mountain, and because they had been stopped so abruptly by what had seemed a single, roundhouse punch, they gave it the name which would describe the entire Umurbrogal—the name of Bloody Nose Ridge.
They did not take it that day, nor that month, nor the next. It was to be the final pocket of Japanese resistance on Peleliu, and it would not fall until November 25.
In the meantime, the First’s attack had fared better on the flanks. The Third Battalion had moved again on the west or left coast, and again had to halt to mark time. On the right flank, the Second Battalion had sent troops over the low ground between Hill 200 and the village of Asias on the east. They tied in with the left-flank company of the Fifth Marines. Between this company and the rest of the Fifth lay a deep swamp which would divide them until a new phase of the offensive began on September 23.
By dusk, that uncomfortable W formation had been erased. Puller’s command at Bloody Nose Ridge now held the enemy in a very shallow U. The regiment’s casualties, exclusive of those of the attached troops, were now at 1,500, or half its strength. But the report to Division said that although gains were slight, “the center of Japanese resistance has been detected and the weakest spots probed.”
“Let’s go git killed on that high ground up there!” the red-haired sergeant yelled, and he and his men went up the sides of Bloody Nose Ridge and many of them were killed.
That was the morning of September 19, when the First Regiment’s Second Battalion was broken on that evil coral complex and the First Battalion all but disappeared.
Everything was hurled against the ridge’s sheer southern face—all the big guns of land and sea, along with aerial bombs, tank weapons, bazookas, flame-throwers, mortars and machine guns and the hand-weapons of attacking riflemen. And Colonel Puller had also reinforced the Second Battalion with the Division Reconnaissance Company and Company C of the First Battalion. All that the First Battalion had left in reserve was A Company, plus a machine-gun platoon composed of men from the Battalion Intelligence Section, cooks, clerks and jeep drivers. In Lieutenant Colonel Honsowetz’ Second Battalion command post, an ominous sequence of orders and reports began:
0545
Heavy mortar fire fell all though our lines during the night. Lieutenant Mercer was killed and his platoon hit hardest.
0605
Enemy rockets firing on E Company lines.
0610
Mortats notified to fire on rocket launchers in 141U.
0715
F Company reports enemy mortars falling on our lines, requests amtracks to evacuate wounded.
0745
The attack is proceeding.
0752
Enemy artillery shelling front lines heavily.
0805
FROM REGIMENT: “Pratically all dead enemy officers are boody-trapped. Use caution.”
0815
Observation Post resquest naval gunfire and bombing on east side of island at Phase 0-4 line.
0818
Heavy enemy artillery fire on Observation Post. Stretcherbearers and corpsmen dispatched requested.
0850
Thanks moving forward.
0902
FROM F COMPANY: “I have approximately 60 men left and four officiers including myself. Lieutenant Russo has three pieces of sharpnel in his back. Lieutenant Maples has been wounded in the shoulder. We are still in the fight.”
0915
Observation Post resquests that more tanks be rushed forward. But runners sent to bring tanks forward report no tanks in entire area between Command Post and Observation Post.
0117
G Company reports that they are hitting caves with 37-millimeter armor
-piercing and high explosive. Will require tanks with 75’s before they can advance.
0930
C Company and G Company being committed up the draw to get into 141U.
0940
Mortar fire commencing on target.
1100
Advance stopped. All companies and Observation Post pinned down underheavy mortar barrage.
1105
E Company reports they have only one effective squad due to exhaustion and heat prostration.1110
TO REGIMENT: “We need more men to continue the advance.” FROM REGIMENT: “Will furnish A Company to support you.”
1130
A company moving forward. They report they have 56 men.
1200
G Company radio operator wounded. Replacement sent forward.
1212
Command Post under mortar barrage.
1220
Attack continues at 1230.
1245
F Company requests 15 stretchers and as many bearers as available.
1250
F Company requests that tanks be sent forward. They are receiving heavy machine-gun fire and are having heavy casualties and only tanks can clear the way.
1300
G Company requests permission to withdraw. The men are dropping from exhaustion and our casualties are great from heavy machine-gun fire and mortars. The position is untenable.
FROM BATTALION: “How far will you have to withdraw?”
FROM G COMPANY: “To the reverse slope the hill to avoid fire.”
FROM BATTALION: “Do not withdraw any farther than absolutely necessary. We will lay smoke to cover your change of position.”
1302
TO A COMPANY: “What situation is G Company in? Can you go forward at all?”
FROM A COMPANY: “No.”
1310
TO FIRST BATTALION SICK BAY: “Please send all available ambulances and stretchers to our Command Post.”
1320
A Company reports that the Second Battalion, Seventh, is pinned douwn to the left and cannot cross the ridge.
1325
TO A COMPANY: “You will advance at once across the ridge to relieve pressure on the line.”
FROM A COMPANY: “We cannot move out. There is heavy machine-gun fire raking the entire ridge.”
TO A COMPANY: “It is necessary that you move out at all costs. I am giving you a direct order. You will move out at once*. If you move in small rushes your casualties will not be great.”
1345
All contact lost with A Company. Second Battlalion, Seventh, has taken hill to the left.
1350
SITUATION: Troops and Observation Post are pinned down by machine-gun fire and mortars in front of Hill 100. All available firepower is being brought to bear on this sector.
1420
FROM F COMPANY: “I must have more men to continue the advance. I am having heavy casualties.”
1425
All available men in the Command Post who can be spared ordered forward. Twenty-four men moving out.
1440
TO E COMPANY: “Move up in support of F Company.”
1450
Pioneers have been sent forward as support for F Company.
1455
A Company has reported to Observation Post for further orders. They have six men and one officers (of original 56).
1505
G Company and E Company have been withdrawn.
1515
Five of 24 men from Command Post knocked out by mortar fire on the lines.
1530
Flame-throwing tanks on way to support F Company.
1531
TO MORTARS: “Extend fire into 143E.”
1540
TO MORTARS: “Cease firing”
1550
FROM G COMPANY RADIO OPERATOR: “Lieutenant Fournier has just been killed. But I think I can get the machine-gun that got him if I can get a bazooka.”
1555
FROM G COMPANY RODIO OPERATOR: “Machine-gun nest knocked out. Am awaiting orders.”
1558
Captain Tiscornia has reported back from hospital ship and is being sent forward to take over G Company. Lieutenant Maples killed in F Company. F and G Company combine under Captain Tiscornia. Lieutenant Burke wounded and evacuated.
1750
The Third Squad of the Fourth War Dog Platoon moving up to support G Company.
1755
Assault continued on entire front on Hill 100.
1759
C Company reports they have taken Hill 100.
It was not called Hill 100, but Walt Ridge, this vital height which Captain Everett Pope and 90 men of C Company had been assaulting since noon. It stood well north of Bloody Nose Ridge, dominating the East Road and the swamp lying between the First and Fifth Regiments. If it were taken, Bloody Nose Ridge might be hit from the rear. Lieutenant Colonel Honsowetz ordered Pope’s company to seize it, with the Division Reconnaissance Company following in support.
Pope’s men moved through the swamp to attack. They were driven back. They moved to their left along East Road, following it until it formed a causeway across a large sinkhole. Pope called for tanks to lead them over the causeway. One tank slipped off the left side, another off the right.
“We’ll have to cross in squad rushes,” Pope ordered.
They crossed. With mortars and machine guns in support, they drove up to the crest of Walt Ridge, and it was at one minute before six o’clock that they reported it seized.
From then on, C Company was struck at from every side. They were shelled, machine-gunned and counterattacked. They fought with rocks and with fists. They struggled with their assailants and hurled them bodily over the cliffs. They held, but at dawn there were only Captain Pope and 16 others alive, and of these only nine had enough strength to fight. It was because of Pope’s leadership that there were any left at all, and for this he won a Medal of Honor. But on the morning of September 20, Pope had to bring his men down from the hill which would be renamed Walt Ridge later in the fight.
The combined First-Second Battalion then attempted to retake Walt Ridge, and was shattered in a relentless crossfire. It was the First Regiment’s last bolt. Colonel Nakagawa jubilantly signaled Lieutenant General Inoue:
Since dawn the enemy has been concentrating their forces, vainly trying to approach Higashiyama [Walt Ridge] and Kansokuyama [Hill 300] with 14 tanks and one infantry battalion under powerful aids of air and artillery fire. However, they were again put to rout, receiving heavy losses.
Bloody Nose Ridge had cut the First’s battalions down to half the size of companies, had reduced some companies to less than a squad. In the combined First-Second Battalion, with its attached units from Division, there were not 100 effectives by the end of the day.
In hard figures of killed and wounded, the First Marines had lost 1,749 men, and there were additional hundreds made non-effective by heat exhaustion, water-poisoning, combat fatigue or blast concussion. But they had killed 4,000 Japanese and had taken 10 defended coral ridges, three big blockhouses, 22 pillboxes, 13 antitank guns and 144 defended caves—one-third of Peleliu’s armament, two-fifths of its defenders. It would require four regiments to take the rest.
But it required only two small hospital transports, Pinckney and Tryon, to take the First’s survivors back to Pavuvu. Even on the way out to the ships, misfortune overtook them. It was a high sea. The edge of a typhoon was moving toward Peleliu. Some of the ducks were swamped, though no one was lost. Weary, dirty, dripping, the Marines climbed over the rails—to be met by clean dry eager sailors.
“Any souvenirs?” an officer asked a Marine.
The Marine stood examining him in silence. He patted his behind.
“I brought my ass outta there, swabbie,” he said. “That’s the only souvenir I wanted.”
20
Early reports of the slaughter under Bloody Nose Ridge had convinced Major General Roy Geiger, the Third
Corps commander, that Peleliu would not be the whirlwind conquest predicted by Major General Rupertus.
Geiger saw very quickly that reinforcements would be needed. But General Rupertus was reluctant to use Army troops which became available after the 81st Infantry (Wildcat) Division took Angaur in three days. Although resistance on Angaur was to continue for another month, only two of the 81st’s regiments were needed to contain it. Thus a third regiment was free to enter the bigger battle on Peleliu.
On September 21, Geiger came to Rupertus headquarters on Peleliu and told him he thought the First Marines should be relieved and that he was considering bringing an Army regiment into the battle. Rupertus became alarmed. He asked Geiger not to take such action, and he assured the Third Corps commander that Peleliu would fall in another day or two.
Geiger disagreed. He told Rupertus to prepare to evacuate the battered First and also to receive reinforcements from the 81st Division.
Then Geiger asked Major General Paul Mueller, the 81st’s commander, to detach his 321st Infantry Regiment for assignment to the First Marine Division on Peleliu. The 321st’s soldiers came into the island on September 23—the same day on which their brother doughfoots of the 323rd Infantry landed unopposed on Ulithi—and they marched up West Road to relieve the Third Battalion, First Marines. The following day the 321st turned right to strike at the western face of the Umurbrogal Pocket.
The next day, the twenty-fifth, the Fifth Marines launched a drive around the western side of The Pocket into northern Peleliu—the upper prong of the lobster’s claw.
Colonel Harris’ battalions marched rapidly out of the eastern peninsula—the lower prong of the claw—crossed the island south of the Umurbrogal and then turned right or north to move up West Road. They passed through the 321st to drive into enemy territory.
That night, Colonel Harris bent both his flanks back to the sea. He was all alone, holding a solitary beachhead. The Japanese counterattacked three times, savagely. They were beaten off. On the morning of September 26, the Marines raced farther north. They left the Umurbrogal behind, overran a radio station, crossed the junction of West and East Roads, and came up on the left of L-shaped Amiangal Mountain. Here they encountered cave systems so constructed that Marine tanks could fire point-black into entrances and be struck by fire which continued to come out the same cavemouth. Here the Marines could seize a hill, sit on it to rest or smoke, and smell the rice and fish being cooked by the enemy four or five stories beneath them. Here, too, they made skillful use of the tank-dozer which had been developed by fitting a Sherman tank with a bulldozer blade and using it to seal off caves under fire.