by Daniel Wrinn
On D-Day, 221 Marines of the 2nd Marine Raider Battalion, under Colonel Evans Carlson, Landed on Makin from the submarines. The submarines surfaced in the heavy rain and high seas. Due to poor conditions, Carlson changed his plan at the last minute. Instead of each company landing on a wide separate beach, they would go ashore together.
Platoon Commander, Lieutenant Oscar Peatross, did not get the word. His squad and boat landed alone on what became the enemy’s rear. The main body reached shore in confusion due to engine malfunctions and weather, and then the accidental discharge of a weapon ruined any hope of surprise.
Lieutenant Merwyn Plumley’s Company A swiftly crossed the narrow island and turned southwest toward known enemy positions. Company B followed as a reserve. Not long after, raiders were in a firefight with the Japanese. Sergeant Clyde Thomason was killed while heroically exposing himself in order to direct the fire of his platoon. He was later awarded the Medal of Honor and was the first enlisted Marine decorated in World War II.
At first, the raiders made little headway against Japanese snipers and machine guns. Then the enemy launched two banzai attacks announced by a bugle call. Marine fire quickly shredded the charging enemy soldiers. Unknown to the Marines, they’d nearly wiped out the Japanese garrison at that point in the battle.
At 1130, two enemy aircraft flew over the island and scouted the action. Carlson had trained his men to stay motionless and not fire at the aircraft. With no troops in sight and no contact from their own ground forces, the planes dropped their bombs though none landed within the Marine lines. Two hours later, another twelve planes arrived. Several were seaplanes. Two of the larger flying boats landed in the lagoon. Raider machine guns and anti-tank rifles opened fire on them. One plane burst into flames, and the other crashed on takeoff after taking several hits. The remaining aircraft bombed and strafed the island for over an hour—most of the ordinance hitting enemy-occupied territory. A third enemy air attack came later that afternoon.
Island natives helped the Marines throughout the day. They carried ammunition and provided intelligence.
Enemy reinforcements had come ashore from the seaplanes and from two small ships in the lagoon. US submarines sank the two small Japanese vessels with their deck guns. Armed with this information, Carlson was confident there was a sizable Japanese force on the island. At 1700, he called his officers together and discussed his options. Captain Roosevelt and the battalion operations officer argued for a withdrawal as planned in preparation for the next day’s landing on Little Makin Island. Carlson was concerned that he might become too heavily engaged if he tried to advance, so he followed young Roosevelt’s recommendation.
This part of the operation went efficiently, the force broke contact in good order, and a group of twenty men covered the rest of the raiders as they readied the riverboats and shoved off. Carlson forgot about the covering force and thought his craft contained the last man on the island when they entered the water at 1930.
The heavy surf was a disaster. The outboard engines didn’t work, and the men were exhausted trying to paddle against the breakers. Boats capsized and equipment disappeared. After several attempts to rendezvous with the submarines, Carlson and 120 of his raiders ended up stranded on the beach. Only a handful of raiders still had weapons. In the middle of the night, a small Japanese patrol approached the perimeter. They wounded a sentry, but not before the raiders killed three of them.
With the Japanese still full of fight and Carlson’s raiders disorganized and weakened, he called for another war council. Without much input from the others, Carlson decided to surrender. He stated his reasons as concern for the wounded and for the possible fate of the president’s son (Captain Roosevelt was not present at this meeting).
At 0300, Carlson sent his operations officer and another Marine to contact the enemy. They found a Japanese soldier and gave him a note offering surrender. Carlson also authorized every man to fend for himself. Those who wished to make another attempt to reach the submarines the next morning could—several boats made it through the surf—including one with Captain Roosevelt. In the meantime, raiders killed several Japanese: one of them probably the man with the surrender note.
When dawn came, the situation appeared significantly better. The two men surrender party reported that there was no organized enemy force left on the island. The seventy raiders left on shore armed themselves with weapons left from the battlefield. Carlson organized patrols to search for food and any remaining enemy. They found and eliminated two more Japanese soldiers and confirmed the lack of opposition.
Carlson led a patrol to survey the scene for himself and to carry out the demolition of military installations and stores. He counted eighty-three dead Japanese and fourteen of his own killed in action. According to the intelligence reports, Carlson thought the enemy force was more than 160 Japanese. Enemy aircraft made four more attacks during the day, but they inflicted no losses on the raiders still stranded ashore.
The raiders made contact with submarines during the day and arranged an evening rendezvous from the lagoon where there was no heavy surf to hamper an evacuation. The men hauled three boats across the island along with a native outrigger. By 2300, the rest of the landing force was back on board the Argonaut and the Nautilus. Because the entire withdrawal had been so disorganized, two companies were intermingled on the submarines, and it wasn’t until they returned to Pearl Harbor that they made an accurate accounting of their eighteen dead and twelve missing.
After the war, the Marine Corps discovered nine of the missing raiders were left alive on the island. These men had been separated from the main body during the operation. With help from the natives, the raiders evaded capture for a time but finally surrendered on August 30. Two weeks later, the Japanese beheaded them on the island of Kwajalein.
The Makin Island raid had mixed results. Reports painted it as a great victory to boost morale on the home front. Many believed it had achieved its goal of diverting forces from Guadalcanal. However, the Japanese had immediately guessed the size and purpose of the operation and not let it change their plans for the Solomon Islands. This may have caused the enemy to worry about the potential for other such raids on rear area installations. Could this have played a part in the subsequent Japanese decision to fortify places like Tarawa Atoll (the scene of a costly amphibious assault later in the war)? (the scene of a costly amphibious assault later in the war).
On a tactical level, the 2nd Raiders had proven themselves in direct combat with the enemy. The greatest difficulties had involved rough seas and poor equipment. This was something bravery could not fix. Despite the trumpeted victory of the operation, the Navy never again used submarines for raids behind enemy lines.
Carlson was awarded the Navy Cross for his efforts on Little Makin Island, and the public considered him a hero. A few of those who served were not convinced of his performance. No one questioned his bravery under fire, but some officers were critical of his leadership, especially when he attempted to surrender to a nonexistent enemy.
Carlson later wrote that he had reached a “spiritual low” on the night of the 17th and 18th. He contemplated remaining on the island to organize the natives for resistance while others supervised the withdrawal of his unit. Some of Carlson’s critics have written that he lost his aggressiveness and ability to think clearly when the chips were down. But Carlson and his raiders would have another crack at the enemy very soon.
Stranded on Tulagi
Makin was not Admiral Nimitz’s first choice for an amphibious assault. In May 1942, he’d proposed an attack by the 1st Raiders, under Colonel “Red Mike” Edson, against the Japanese seaplane base at Tulagi in the Solomon Islands.
This target was in the southwest Pacific, General MacArthur’s area of command, and he opposed the plan. Yet, Tulagi remained a significant threat to the maritime lifeline to Australia. After the victory in Midway opened the door for a more offensive Allied posture, Japanese positions in the Solomon Islands no
w became a priority. In late June, the Joint Chiefs shifted that region from MacArthur’s command to Nimitz’s Pacific Ocean Areas command—Nimitz ordered the seizure of Tulagi.
The Allies realized the Japanese were building an airfield on nearby Guadalcanal, which became the primary target for Operation Watchtower. The 1st Marine Division, along with the 1st Raider Battalion, received this assignment.
At Colonel Edson’s repeated requests, the rear echelon of his battalion (minus the 81mm mortar platoon) joined him on July 3 in Samoa. After that, the entire unit moved to New Caledonia. The 1st Raiders received word about Operation Watchtower on July 20. They were ordered to seize Tulagi along with the 2/5 Marines as support. The 1st Parachute Battalion would take the islets of Gavutu-Tanambogo. The 1st Marine Division, with one regiment in reserve, would take Henderson Airfield on Guadalcanal.
Edson tried to make an amphibious reconnaissance of the objectives, but Navy command rejected the idea. Most of the information about Tulagi would come from three Australians, former colonial officials familiar with the area. Tulagi was 1,000 yards wide and 4,000 yards long. It had a huge ridge running along its length, with a low, open saddle near the southeast end. The only suitable landing beaches from a hydrographic perspective were those on either side of the low ground—coral rock formations fringed the rest of the island.
Allied intelligence estimated the island was defended by several hundred men of the Japanese Special Naval Landing Force (elite troops of proven fighting ability). Aerial reconnaissance showed that they were dug in to defend the landing sites. Allied planners chose to make the assault halfway up the western coast at a place designated Beach Blue. They also decided to make the first American amphibious assault of the war against natural obstacles—not enemy gunfire.
The 1st Raiders sailed from New Caledonia on July 23 and joined the main task force for rehearsals in the Fiji Islands. These went badly. Navy boat crews and most of the 1st Marine Division were still too green. While the 1st Raiders had trained hard on their rubber boats, they now had to make this landing from Higgins boats. (Plywood constructed, shallow-draft barges)
After a preliminary bombardment from a destroyer and a cruiser, the first wave of Companies B and D headed for shore. The coral forced them to debark and wade the last 100 yards, but there was no enemy opposition. Companies A and C would quickly follow. Four rifle companies spread out across the island’s center, advancing in line to the southeast. They met occasional sniper fire until they reached the end of the ridge where they halted as planned, while naval guns fired an additional barrage against enemy defenses.
The attack jumped off right before noon. Marines ran into heavy Japanese resistance. For the rest of the day, the 1st Raiders fought to gain control of the saddle from an entrenched enemy who wouldn’t surrender under any circumstances. The raiders quickly discovered their only option was to use explosives to destroy enemy troops occupying the caves and bunkers. As dusk neared, raiders settled into a defensive line circling the small ridge of Hill 281 on the tip of the island. The 2/5 Marines, after scouring the rest of the island, took up positions at the rear of the raiders.
Japanese defenders launched a banzai counterattack at 2200 that night. Their initial efforts punched a hole in raider lines between Companies A and C. They followed with a second assault which may have exploited the gap but instead struck full-on against Company A’s frontline. This time the Marines held their ground. For the rest of the night, the Japanese relied on their infiltration tactics with small groups and individuals trying to make their way to the Marine rear by stealth. These tactics allowed them to attack both the 2nd Battalion’s CP (command post) and the aid stations set up at Blue Beach. Japanese soldiers came within fifty yards of the raider command post. Edson tried to call for reinforcements, but communications were cut.
By dawn, the situation improved for the raiders as they had on Little Makin Island. At 0900, two companies of the 5th Marines passed through raider lines and swept over the southern portions of Hill 281. The remaining Japanese were now pushed back and isolated in a ravine.
After a destructive barrage from heavy 81mm mortars, Marines from both outfits advanced to eliminate the last enemy pocket. Dynamite and grenades were the weapons of choice against the Japanese holding out in dugouts and caves. At 1500, Edson declared the island secure, but it didn’t mean the fighting was over. Marines patrolled the islands for several days and fended off occasional infiltrators at night until the last enemy soldier was killed.
Throughout this battle, the raiders suffered thirty-eight dead and fifty-five wounded, along with an additional thirty-three casualties among other Marine units on the island. Over 350 Japanese defenders had been killed.
On August 8, a Japanese naval force arrived from Rabaul, surprising the Allied ships guarding the transports. In a brief fight, the Japanese sank four cruisers and a destroyer and damaged other ships, killing 1,207 sailors at a minimal cost to themselves. Navy command had little choice but to order an early withdrawal of their forces. Most of the transports departed that afternoon with their cargo hold still half full.
Raiders were now in a bad way. They’d come ashore with little food because the plan called for their immediate withdrawal after seizing the island. Since they hadn’t cleared the enemy from the only usable beaches until D +1, there had been little time to unload anything. This meant short rations for some time to come.
The 1st Raiders performed well in their first combat experience. Like their comrades in the 2nd Raiders, they were daring and brave. Major Ken Bailey displayed the type of leadership that was common in both units. When an enemy machine gun held up the advance of his company on D-Day, he circled the bunker, crawled on top, and pushed a grenade into the firing port. For his effort, he received a gunshot wound in the thigh.
Major Kenneth Bailey
Edson established his reputation for fearlessness by spending most of his time in the front lines, where he stood up in the face of enemy fire. He aggressively employed his force in battle, while many other senior commanders had grown soft after years of peacetime service.
General Alexander Vandegrift, commander of the 1st Marine Division, wrote: “Colonel Edson was one of the finest troop leaders I ever saw.”
The Tokyo Express
Throughout August, the Japanese moved a steady stream of reinforcements to Guadalcanal via nightly runs with barges and destroyers—the Tokyo Express. Marines repulsed the first enemy attack on the Tenaru River in northern Guadalcanal on August 21. General Vandegrift knew he would need all the strength he could muster to defend his extended perimeter surrounding the airfield.
By the end of the month, Vandegrift brought the 1st Raiders and parachutists across the sound, placing them in reserve at Lunga Point. The parachutists had taken heavy losses in their assault on Gavutu (including the loss of their commander), so Vandegrift attached the parachutists to Edson’s 1st Raider Battalion.
Lieutenant Colonel Thomas, the division operations officer, convinced Edson to use the raiders offensively. This resulted in a two-company patrol on September 4 to Savo Island, where Allied intelligence believed the enemy had an observation post.
When the Savo patrol returned in the late afternoon, the men debarked before receiving the order to remain on board to prepare for the next mission. When Edson learned about the mix-up, he let the Marines offload. That night, Japanese destroyers from the Tokyo Express sank both APDs. Another close call for the raiders. Japanese planes had already sunk the Colhoun right after it had unloaded a company of raiders.
Marine attention shifted from Cape Esperance when it became clear that the Tokyo Express destination was the village of Tasimboko. On September 6, Edson got permission to raid the area. After losing three APDs, raiders boarded the APDs Manley and McKean, and two tuna boats converted for the operation. Raider rifle companies would compose the first wave. Then the ships would shuttle back to Lunga Point for the weapons company and the parachutists. Native scouts provided int
el that several thousand enemy soldiers were in the area—Allied planners discounted that figure.
Edson trusted the native reports that enemy defenses faced west toward Marine lines. He landed beyond the village at Taivu Point and advanced overland to flank the target.
Raiders went ashore before dawn on September 8. The native reports proved to be accurate. As they moved along the coast toward Tasimboko, they found more than a thousand life preservers in orderly rows and hundreds of foxholes—even several unattended 37mm antitank guns.
Over the last few days, General Kawaguchi had landed a brigade at Tasimboko and advanced inland. A rearguard of 300 Japanese soldiers secured the village, and supply dumps were established there.
This force was nearly as big as the raider’s first wave. Marines encountered stubborn resistance, including 75mm artillery pieces firing point-blank down the coastal road. Edson got the defenders’ attention with two companies and sent Company A wide to the left flank.
Edson was concerned that he faced the enemy’s entire main force and radioed for reinforcements to land west of Tasimboko. Request denied. Forty-five minutes later, Edson again asked for fresh troops and more air support. Division responded that the raiders were to break off and withdraw. Edson ignored that order and continued the attack. Not long after, enemy resistance melted away, and both wings of the raider force entered the village in the afternoon. They found the village stockpiled with large quantities of ammunition, food, and weapons—along with 75mm artillery pieces.
General Vandergrift radioed a “well done” and again repeated his order for the raiders to withdraw. Edson again chose to stay put for the time being and ordered his men to gather all documents. The raiders were then ordered to destroy as many enemy supplies as they could. Marines smashed a powerful radio station, bayoneted cans of food, tore open and urinated on bags of rice or spilled them over the ground. They tied guns to landing boats and towed them out to deep water before torching anything and everything that was left. As the sun sank that evening, Marines headed to the perimeter, heavy with cigarettes, alcohol, and newly liberated chow.