As the 48th came in, it immediately deployed south, and so now Patch would be facing this seasoned enemy division as Operation Push prepared to jump off in January of 1943. By this time, the independent 147th RCT that had once been a part of the 37th Division had transferred to Suva, and it was the last formation to arrive, making the 23rd “Square” as its fourth regiment. With this force in hand, and the 754th Medium Tank Battalion, Patch deployed his three organic regiments abreast for the drive on Nandi, holding the 147th in reserve.
In the north, the 25th Division under Collins had relieved the 1st Marines, but the leathernecks left behind a substantial force in the 2nd Regiment under Colonel David Shoup from their 2nd Division, the 1st and 2nd Light Tank Battalions, and both Marine Raider Battalions under Edson and Carlson.
For the attack on Tavua, Collins would have his 25th Division made Square with the addition of the 145th RCT from 37th Division on Vanua Levu. It mustered at the new airfield at Bua on the western tip of that island, and was then able to take local boats and rafts to make the short crossing to reach Viti Levu Bay in the north. That was to be the main supply center established for Collins, visited regularly by lighters from Suva.
The 27th RCT would lead the attack along the coastal King’s Road, moving quickly through the hamlet of Rakiraki until they came upon the imposing rise of “Hill 1000.” Overlooking the road, the Japanese had wisely occupied that height, digging in with their 2nd Battalion of the 228th Regiment under Colonel Ito. The 1st Marines had fought hard to try and flank that position, taking the lower portion of the range that ran south from the north coast. That was the only consolation Collins found when he arrived, and he was quick to get his 34th Regiment up on that ground. From there they could push down into the cultivated valley below, driving towards the thin Nasivi River that passed through Tavua to the sea. This was to be the main attack, and the thrust against Hill 1000 further north would be a strong demonstration.
Tavua, with its small fighter field, was the first target for Collins. The other big objective was the coveted Gold Mine at Vatukoula, a town about 10 kilometers south of Tavua. It was there that Colonel Tanaka had placed his 229th Regiment, his lines east of the meandering course of the Nasivi River, and on the high ground called Lakalaka by the locals, Hill 663. His line ended near the village of Nandelee, and from there the highlands rose precipitously to a height of 3025 feet.
Collins’ 35th Regiment would be coming into the Nasivi River Valley from the south, led by a company of the intrepid Fiji Commandos, and they were after that gold mine. The third Regiment of the Japanese 38th Division was some 20 kilometers to the west at M’ba, the 230th under Colonel Shoji. His troops were working to improve the bridges over the largest watercourse in the north, the M’ba River. The town itself lay on the east bank of that river with the only good crossings in one road and one rail bridge near a big sugar mill. Just south of the town was the main airfield in the north, and the Japanese had been building a bridge over the river there near the village of Solo.
There was one other force on the island, that of the New Zealand Fiji Brigade Group under Brigadier Wales, which included the tough jungle fighting Fiji Commando Guerillas under Captain Tripp. The Americans had been so impressed by these men that they asked them to stay on when most of the other New Zealand troops were called home. Fearing the Japanese might come one day, they had done extensive work to prepare a defense. The bridges over every river or stream were assessed for the amount of demolitions required to destroy them. Secret HQ sites were hidden in the rugged interior highlands, along with hidden supply caches. All the best mountain tracks were scouted and mapped.
It was this force, with Commando units under Tripp, and Lieutenants Adair and Harper, that would lead the way for Collins’ 35th Regiment as it attempted to flank Tavua from the south. The rest of the Fiji Brigade Group was mostly deployed around Suva, and along the coast where the sharp eyed coastwatchers were deployed to warn of Japanese destroyer runs. One battalion was detached and sent north to act as a possible coastal raiding force, and Collins held it in reserve.
That was the board and the playing pieces all set up for the battle. Now it would come down to the troops, and the men who led them. General Patch had a good habit of leading from the front, often establishing a Command Post within 150 yards of the fighting. He came up the road through Bavu heading for Momi, where the regimental HQ of 164th was located under Colonel Earl Sarles. When “Early” saw the General’s jeep sweep past his CP, without even stopping, he ordered his XO to gather up all the maps and charts and follow him immediately. Then he went out and jumped in the nearest vehicle to follow Patch up towards the front. A General on the scene had a way of electrifying all the men around him, and Patch wanted to put fire into the opening round as he kicked off his attack on the morning of January 7th.
He had the entire 754th Tank Battalion in the spearhead along the coast, and followed it up with his Combat Engineer Battalion. That morning they punched hard towards Momi, with one company of tanks bypassing the Japanese strong point on the road to the east. It was eventually stopped by a combination of well registered artillery fire and a section of 37mm AT Guns, the tanks falling back towards the infantry.
Fighting stopped at dusk, with both sides exchanging artillery fire, and the Americans tried Momi again the next morning. The defense was equally robust, and when things got tight, the Japanese just got tougher. The line refused to budge, and then a raging counterattack came with fixed bayonets that send two US companies into retreat and forced Patch to commit his last reserve company of M3 Tanks.
Crouching behind the M3s, the US infantry advanced again, this time breaking through a depleted enemy company, its ranks further scattered after that charge. Momi was still holding, but this attack was flanking the town and threatening to cut the road beyond. Sensing opportunity at last, Patch sent orders back for Colonel Tuttle to bring up his 147th RCT, and Operation Push was finally about to build up a good head of steam in the south. The line further east with the 138th and 182nd was still rather static, as neither regiment had been able to make much headway over the first 48 hours of the attack.
On the far right, the182nd had been trying to find the enemy flank, engaging in a little duel with 3rd Battalion of the 2nd Formosa regiment. It was about to receive an unexpected surprise when the Kamimura Cavalry Recon battalion emerged from seeming thin air on the extreme right and rear of the US line. It had been ordered to try and flank the US position, and moved all night to gain this advantage.
Already in these first hours of fighting, a characteristic pattern was forming around US operations. While they moved and deployed smartly, the infantry had been relying on the vehicles and halftracks of the recon battalion, and those M3 tanks to sustain the advance at Momi. When checked, the Americans would fall back and call for artillery.
By contrast, the Japanese would hold the line tenaciously, and just when it seemed a position was about to be overrun, the defenders threw themselves into a fanatical counterattack, screaming Bonzai as they charged. Sometimes these attacks shocked and pushed back the lest experienced US infantry, but when a GI company held its ground, and had its machineguns forward in good supporting positions, they inflicted terrible losses on the already failing Japanese company they were facing. By day’s end the Americans had the advantage by sheer weight, then they stopped.
Night fighting was one area where the US troops did not excel, at least not yet. Come dusk the battalions pulled back a little, consolidated their position, laid out mine sand wire, registered their mortars and positioned machine guns. They had already heard from the Marines that the Japanese were prone to making most of their major attacks at night, and so the US moved into a passive defense, though each battalion would send out patrols. Needless to say, that duty wasn’t popular, and none of the grunts wanted to be selected for night patrol sweeps, as they were called. A little rest behind that wire and those machineguns seemed a whole lot more appealing, though sleep was
restless, for the enemy was very near.
But this night, the Japanese did not come. The problem they were facing was now an increasing shift in the balance of forces. All this time, he had only been facing two thirds of the Japanese 48th Division. With the threat of a possible amphibious landing very real, General Yuitsu Tsuchihashi could not afford to commit his entire division to the defense, holding back the 47th Regiment at Nandi to guard the port, supply depots, and airstrip. The fact that their battalions were composed of four rifle companies and a weapons company allowed the Japanese to field 30 companies of fighting troops between the two regiments they deployed, and this had been enough to seriously stall the US offensive.
Patch had 36 infantry based companies in his entire division, three more of engineers, three recon platoons and the three tank companies. So his edge was only 47 to 30 in raw numbers of fighting units on the field. Now, however, he was calling up his reserve regiment on the morning of day three. From his perspective, he had his enemy in a firm grip, and now he was going to hit them with everything he had.
One other advantage his troops would possess would be the lavish allotment of artillery in a US infantry division. Each of his four regiments could field five batteries of four guns each, or twenty firing tubes—80 field guns there. Added to these were the self-propelled guns in the cannon company attached to each regiment, eight guns in each of the four companies. So he was going to open the day with a rolling barrage from 112 tubes, and he had the ammunition to keep it hot and keep it coming. Against this the Japanese regiments fielded no more than 60 field pieces.
Unhappy with what he had seen in the first two days of fighting, Patch called together his battalion commanders on the night of the 8th and read them the riot act. They were going to hit the enemy in the morning, and fight all day and all night if they had to, but one way or another, he was pushing Tojo off the field. That was exactly how he put it, and he wanted no doubts about what he expected the following day.
The thunder of that artillery resounded from the nearby hills and rolled over the still waters of the bay. He gave it to the enemy for a full thirty minutes, and then he had ordered his battalion COs to use their rally whistles and send everyone in in one concerted attack. It was the largest coordinated attack by US forces thus far in the war.
Colonel Imai’s 1st Formosa took the worst of that attack on the coastal plain beyond Momi. Tanaka’s 2nd Formosa was posted much farther inland, and they were not hit nearly as hard, as all the tanks and recon elements had been restricted to advancing along Queen’s Road. So it was one hell of a left hook that hit Imai’s regiment, with 1st Company, I Battalion, 164th Regiment leading the attack into Momi, supported by a company of the 754th Tank and one more of engineers.
Patch and his 23rd Pacifica Division took Momi on the morning of January 9th, and he had it before the 147th Regiment had even been able to deploy. So he sent word back that the battalions were to remain in march column, ready to surge through any gaps his men created in the enemy line. He wanted to use that reserve regiment to keep up the momentum of his attack, and try to roll right on through to Nandi, but there was still a lot of fight left in the Japanese battalions. They would simply not fall back, even before clearly superior firepower and numbers in the assaulting forces. Instead they either dug in their heels, fighting to the last few squads, and then simply hurled themselves at their foes in a last desperate charge.
General Yamashita had suffered grievous harm when he had tried to launch a major assault at the Tengah Airfield on Singapore, and now this tenacious Japanese defense was a portent of many bloody battles that remained to be fought in this war. The Americans could not simply drive this enemy off as they might have expected. The Japanese had to be annihilated to take any ground they were determined to hold, and that was a pattern that would repeat itself time and time again in the Pacific War.
Chapter 8
In the center of the board, the high mountainous country that made up most of the island, the drama was much more focused. This time the cast was all fighting Leathernecks, Edson’s 1st Raider Battalion, Carlson’s 2nd Raiders and the 2nd USMC Regiment.
The two Raider Battalions had been formed in February of 1942 out of an interest, fomented by President Roosevelt himself, for a specialized commando type unit like those the British had been forming. In fact, Roosevelt’s own son James would become the Deputy Commander in Carlson’s Battalion. The two units were quite different, in spite of their similar designation and overall mission, and this was largely due to the differing temperament of their commanding officers.
Colonel Merrit A. Edson grew up as a farm boy from Vermont, where he spent most of his life outdoors, hunting, fishing, and developing what the Aussies might call good “bush craft.” He was athletic, but soft spoken, with a quiet and calm disposition, and as cool as his deep blue eyes under fire. Edson put together his 1st Battalion from a regular Marine Battalion in the 5th Regiment, and so it was structured along traditional Marine lines, with four companies composed of three platoons each, and with eight man squads.
Edson worked well with his men, undertaking any hardship or physical task he asked of them. In the field he might go out on recon operations for days at a time, then suddenly reappear sporting a reddish stubble of a beard and looking like a wild Irishman. That resulted in the first of many nicknames being hung on the man—Red Mike. He was also called ‘Eddie the Mole,’ A play on his last name, mixed in with the fact that the men said he looked like a mole with his helmet on, his small head lost beneath it, eyes glowing in the dark on patrols. His aggressive spirit also found him being called ‘Mad Merrit the Morgue Master,’ because if there was a fight at hand, he wanted to be in on the action.
When a second Raider Battalion was to be formed, the Corps asked Edson to send one company to act as its root and stem, but the man who received it, Colonel Evans Carlson, wanted no part of Edson’s ready made unit. He rejected most of the men in the company, and forced all the rest to re-apply for admission to his new unit, which he wanted to build from scratch.
Carlson had different ideas about what he wanted for his battalion. He had spent time in China, learning the language and studying the tactics of the Communist Guerilla units, which impressed him greatly. So when he built his battalion, he used much of what he saw there, including the notion that officers had no special privileges. In fact, he never gave or received a salute to emphasize that he was no different from any other man in his unit—though he was just the one giving the orders. What he wanted was cooperation at every level, using the Chinese phrase ‘Gung Ho’ to describe it, which meant ‘work together.’
Carlson then went on to change the entire structure of his unit. He wanted it fast and light, and knew it would deploy from the Navy APDs, old destroyers converted to carry a company of Marines. “You give me six Higgins boats,” he said, “and I can put an entire company ashore, and ready to fight the minute they hit the beach.”
This was due to the fact that he had reorganized his battalion into six light companies, each with two platoons instead of three, and he also added two more men to each squad, increasing from eight to ten. So instead of two four-man fire teams in the traditional Marine Squad, he built three teams of three men each, with one NCO.
Edson and many other Marine officers shrugged at this, and he also did not like or forgive the shoddy reception and treatment his men had been given by Carlson, or the fact that Carlson had the President’s ear, and even had the President’s son as his deputy commander. He would resent his opposite number to his dying day, and the two men often clashed over tactics and methods, even as they did over the organization of their battalions.
Yet no matter how they were organized, the men in those two battalions were a tough group, and ready for a brawl. When they heard that Japanese tactics often led to bayonet charges and close quarters fighting, they took to arming themselves with 9-inch bolo and Bowie knives, and thick socks stuffed with lead balls. Carlson’s men called the bl
ades their ‘Gung Ho’ knives. Since these units wanted speed and stealth, they forsook the larger 81mm mortars and took only the smaller 60mm tubes, and instead of HMGs up to .50 Caliber, they relied on the .30 caliber BAR and the even smaller ‘Tommy guns.’ The one heavy weapon they would lug along was the Boys Anti-Tank Rifle, which they used to good effect on the Makin Island raid, blasting a couple enemy seaplanes that tried to bring in reinforcements. The troops called it their ‘elephant gun.’
The men were trained by experts, like Colonel Anthony Biddle, who demonstrated his martial arts skills by taking on eight Marines armed with the cold steel of a bayonet, and was able to disarm the entire group single handedly. They learned rubber boat maneuvers, camouflage, anti-sniper drills, patrol methods, and how to make endless jaunts through forbidding terrain, which was exactly what they were doing there on Viti Levu.
* * *
The thing that made the place bearable was the size and scale of the island. Up in those mountains, as difficult as the trek was, you had open sky, fresh air, and could see for miles in any direction. Streams cut through the ravines offering cool fresh water, and there was food to be found, even outside the hidden supply caches secreted away by the Fiji Commandos. Another thing about the island was that there was no malaria here, and that mattered a great deal when it came down to the endurance of the men who would fight there. The temperature was a constant 88 degrees by day, and 74 by night, and there was rain by the buckets in the wet season that began in January, particularly on the north and western segments of the island where all the fighting would take place. It would rain over 20 days per month through April, and the area around Tavua and M’ba would get more than any other place on the island.
1943 (Kirov Series Book 27) Page 7