Shadow Warriors

by Dick Camp

  The unblooded men of the 3rd Battalion quickly became veterans. First Lieutenant Frederick W. Riggs recalled, “Pushing ahead and climbing on shore we were immediately subjected to intermittent fire from Tanambogo, off our right flank.” A Marine from Company “I” said, “Our sergeant had drilled into our minds over and over on the ship, ‘When you hit the beach, stay low. Don’t make a target.’ Amazingly, he lit out straight ahead and was killed immediately. After landing, I found myself next to a Navy corpsman who had a softball sized hole in his shoulder. Under his directions, I packed his wound with sulfa and bandaged it.” Sergeant Fitch and his squad ran into an enemy occupied position. “There was a log and sandbagged bunker just ahead … we tied five sticks of dynamite to the end of a twelve-foot board. This was lit and shoved into the bunker. When it exploded the whole top seemed to raise about two feet and then settle to ground level. The bunker was then quiet.” A platoon of engineers was attached to the battalion from the 2nd Pioneer Battalion, under 1st Lt. Harold A. Hayes. “We proceeded to dispose of bomb duds and blow caves after the Japanese refused to come out. … [A]t one cave, as I was placing a charge, a shot went off and I wasn’t sure if someone was shooting at me. … [I]t turned out an officer had shot himself with a rifle, using his toe to pull the trigger.”

  Sergeant Fitch’s squad cautiously advanced along the shoreline to the southern end of the island when it ran into several Japanese.

  We encountered some caves in a rock ledge. … [A] couple of nude Japs ran out of them onto the shallow reef, but with about twenty-five Marines firing at them, they didn’t make it far. Now we started receiving fire, some at ground level and some at a height of fifteen feet. In order to return fire, we had to get out on the reef … to the Japs we must have looked like ducks in a shooting gallery. Our platoon sergeant took a bad groin hit; and a corpsman was killed going to his aid. A Marine behind me told me to step aside as I was in his line of fire. The split second I moved over he was hit in the left shoulder. As he was about three inches shorter than I was, it would have been a heart hit for me. Several more men were wounded around me. The firing from the caves let up and we retraced our route to the island.

  Lieutenant Riggs’s platoon moved to the top of Hill 148 where they had a bird’s-eye view of the surrounding island, including an air attack on Tanambogo. “We watched the attack by our SBDs, which flew from the south, dropped their bombs and continued northwards towards Tulagi.” Private Leonard Skinner’s machine gun team set up near an open corrugated iron building on top of the hill. “I took a prone position a few feet from the machine gun where I could also bring my rifle to bear on Tanambogo. The noise of machine gun, and mortar fire was very loud and continuous. Suddenly there was even a louder roar and an instantaneous explosion, then all went black and quiet.” One of the SBDs thought the hill was still controlled by the Japanese and dropped a 500-pound bomb. “The gun crew was killed and several other Marines were wounded and I was blown halfway down the hill,” Skinner said. “I don’t know how long I was unconscious. … [G]radually things started to get light and focused … and I found I was lying flat on my back.” Skinner was lucky. He had been hit by small pieces of shrapnel that did not inflict any serious injury. “The doctor told me to just rest where I was for awhile. … [A]s I was anxious to get back to my squad, I took my rifle and joined what was left of my squad.”

  Taking Tanambogo

  Shortly after noon, Company “I,” under the command of Capt. William G. Tinsley was ordered to capture Tanambogo. The assault was to be supported by the parachute battalion’s machine guns, as well as Tinsley’s own guns from Gavutu. Two Stuart light tanks from the 2nd Tank Battalion were to land just ahead of the infantrymen to cover the southern and eastern side of Hill 121. At 1600, the Buchanan stood into Gavutu, slowed to steerageway, and opened fire with her five-inch battery on Tanambogo’s heights at a range of 1,100 yards. After a ten-minute bombardment, she shifted fire to the flat area on the southeast side of the island. At 1620, the first of two Landing Tank Lighters ran up on the beach, dropped its ramp and the tank rolled off. A Marine sergeant standing forward of the lighter’s engine room was killed instantly by the heavy enemy fire. The second lighter ran aground on the coral a few yards from shore. “When we couldn’t get any nearer the beach,” Boatswain Mate 2nd Class B.W. Henson reported, “I signaled the tank to run off, rather than stop to lower the ramp. I had told Lt. Sweeney [Robert J., the tank commander] to run right into the ramp and knock it down when I gave the signal that the stops were off.”

  The minute the tanks rolled off the lighters, they became the focus for much of the Japanese fire. Johnson wrote that, “as Lt. Robert J. Sweeney, the tank commander drove his two egg-shell monsters inland, screaming Japs ran at the tanks with pipes and crowbars to jam the treads. Sweeney’s guns were all going, and so were the guns of his companion tank, but there was painful lack of room to maneuver. Rising from the turret to reconnoiter, Sweeney took a bullet through the head. The tank stalled and the crewmen fought their way out of it against Japs who were swinging knives and even a pitchfork.” The second tank was also immobilized when it got stuck between two palm trees, unable to move either forward or backward. The Japanese threw “Molotov cocktails” and other inflammables onto it, setting the tank afire. Marine riflemen tried to support the tankers but there were simply too many Japanese. The tank commander and the driver were killed and two other crewmen severely wounded before most of the Japanese were killed by rifle fire. The next day forty-two Japanese were counted around the knocked out tank. Among the corpses was the executive officer of the Yokohama Air Group and several of the seaplane pilots. One of the Japanese survivors of the attack reported, “I recall seeing my officer Lt. Cmdr. Saburo Katsuta on top of the tank. This was the last time I saw him.”

  The Marines of Company “I” followed the tanks ashore. The company split into two groups, one group worked its way up the southern slope of the hill, while the other deployed to the right, then inland to assault the eastern slope. Immediately after establishing a beachhead, the 1st Platoon, Company “K” launched a bayonet attack. “At 1620 we fixed bayonets and charged, single file across the causeway,” Private Skinner said. “Enemy machine gun fire started sweeping back and forth, frequently finding its mark. … [A]bout halfway across I dived to the ground and rolled over the side to break up my long exposure to the Japanese gunners. It was then I discovered another machine gun was located on Gaomi Island [to the right of the causeway], and this gun was sweeping the causeway … I immediately was back up and continuing the charge.” The platoon suffered several casualties in the wild assault but reached the other end of the causeway and dug in. Richard Johnson wrote, “As the first few Marines reached the Tanambogo end of the causeway, the Japs rose from their holes to meet them. For a moment the Marines were engaged with bayonets, and the battle was hand to hand, man against man and steel against steel.”

  Throughout the remainder of the evening, Company “I” rooted out the last of the Japanese defenders. Most of them did not surrender, so their caves were blown up and the entrances sealed. The few remaining Japanese conducted isolated attacks, which caused some casualties, but for the most part resistance on Tanambogo had been crushed. In the battle for Gavutu and Tanambogo, 476 Japanese defenders and 70 Marines or naval personnel (28 Parachutists) were killed in action. Of the 20 Japanese prisoners taken during the battle, most were not actually Japanese combatants but Korean laborers belonging to the Japanese construction unit. MCPO Miyagawa was one of the lucky ones. He was taken prisoner on Florida Island after escaping from Gavutu. He believed that Captain Miyazaki had either killed himself or had been sealed in one of Gavutu’s caves.

  CHAPTER 7

  Gung Ho!

  At 0300 16 August 1942, the USS Nautilus (SS-168) made landfall off the coast of Makin Atoll on a mission to land Marines of the 2nd Raider Battalion, under Lt. Col. Evans F. Carlson, on the Atoll’s largest island, Butaritari. “Arrived off Makin at 0300. Sco
uted the eastern corner of the island down to Butaritari until 0540,” Carlson noted in his diary. Lieutenant Commander William E. Brockman ordered the boat to periscope depth and within minutes he was peering through the night scope. The island was totally blacked out and even at high power he could not make out any distinguishing features. “The view was not particularly noteworthy: palm trees, a sandy beach, and lots of water,” then-Lt. Oscar F. Peatross noted, “identical to thousands of other islands in the Pacific. The church steeple, the sole prominent cultural feature and a key reference point in all our briefings and rehearsals, was not to be seen. … [W]e now wondered if we were in the wrong place.”

  Brockman ordered the helmsman to maintain course, careful to keep the sub two miles from the outer fringe of the barrier reef so as not to run aground. Throughout the next day, the Nautilus continued to creep slowly along the coastline, carefully observing the island for signs of the enemy. “All of the officers and key noncommissioned officer of the raiding force had an opportunity to observe the objective area through the periscope,” Peatross said. During the daylong reconnaissance, Brockman determined that the “set and drift of the current along the landing beach shifted direction rapidly as the day wore on.” He discussed the discovery with Carlson because of the difficulty his men would have in controlling the direction of their small rubber boats during the next night’s landing.

  LIEUTENANT COLONEL EVANS F. CARLSON

  Lieutenant Colonel Evans F. Carlson was a controversial figure because of his ideas on guerrilla warfare and unorthodox methods of troop indoctrination and training that he based on his experiences with the Chinese Communist 8th Route Army before World War II. He personally interviewed each man in the battalion—“Carlson’s eyes were stern,” Pvt. Al Flores said. “They made me feel like a preacher was looking at me.” Carlson believed there should be no caste differences between officers and enlisted men. Officers would not have special mess facilities or clubs—saluting would be minimized. He emphasized teamwork and hard physical training, emphasizing how a Chinese battalion had marched fifty grueling miles over rough terrain and not one had dropped out. Carlson proposed a slogan for the battalion—”Gung Ho,” which he translated as “work together.”

  Many of his contemporaries thought he was a communist because of his book Twin Stars over China, in which he praised the Red Army. One of his officers said, “There was a feeling on the part of the old timers that he had communist leanings and was called a ‘pinko’ behind his back.” He was told, “Don’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.” After being officially censored for publishing Twin Stars over China, Carlson resigned his commission in April 1939 to speak publically about the ongoing Sino-Japanese War.

  In 1941, he applied for recommissioning but thought it would be turned down. “I know what will happen,” he told a friend, “someone will say, ‘What’ll we do with the SOB?’” Despite his misgivings, he was brought back on active duty, given a commission as a major in the Marine Corps Reserve, and assigned as commanding officer of the 2nd Raider Battalion.

  Just after dark, Brockman ordered a course correction so he could check on the alternate landing beach. However, “Rip tides and strong currents off Ukiangong Point rendered this impracticable in the time remaining,” Brockman wrote in the after-action report. Nautilus had a schedule to keep, she had to meet the USS Argonaut (SS-166), her sister boat carrying 134 men from Company “B.” Nautilus carried 87 Raiders from Company “A.” At 2116, the two submarines rendezvoused within fifteen minutes of the scheduled time, “during a heavy rain squall, a fact which evidenced most excellent navigation on the part of that vessel [Argonaut] … ,” Brockman noted. “After passing the operation order for the attack to Argonaut, the two vessels proceeded in company to the debarkation point.” At 0300 17 August, the raider force commenced embarking in boats.

  Diversion Objective

  The 221 men of the 2nd Raider Battalion who were crammed aboard the two submarines had been selected to conduct a quick hit and run raid on Makin Island to “destroy enemy forces and vital installations and to capture important documents and prisoners.” Admiral Chester W. Nimitz personally selected the target, according to John Wukovits in American Commando: Evans Carlson, His World War II Raiders, and America’s First Special Forces Mission. “Nimitz considered hitting Wake, Tinian, Attu … but concluded those would be too difficult. Instead he selected Makin.” Commodore John M. Haines said, “After considering all factors, an objective in the Gilbert Islands seemed most realistic. This was an area of deepest Japanese penetration … [I]ts exposed position might have left it sufficiently sensitive to a raid as to bring out the reaction we desired, which was to deter the immediate reinforcement of Guadalcanal. That is how Makin Atoll was selected as the target and August 17, 1942, as D-Day.” A successful raid would offer a welcome boost to home front morale after a succession of defeats. Nimitz looked at the raid as the Navy’s answer to the Doolittle Raid on the Japanese home islands in April 1942.

  Carlson had requested three submarines for the raid. “I can let you have two,” Nimitz shot back. “We’re short of men, short of ships, and short of planes.” The Nautilus, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Brockman, and the Argonaut, commanded by Lt. Cmdr. John R. “Happy Jack” Pierce, the two largest submarines in the American fleet, were assigned for the raid. Peatross said that, “Although our submarines were classified as ‘large,’ they had never been intended to serve as troop transports: consequently they were very crowded.” Carlson was forced to leave fifty-five men (twenty-five from “A” Company and thirty from “B” Company) behind. “Our gear was stacked, poked, tucked, and stowed in every nook and cranny,” Peatross said. “Our rubber boats were rolled up and stowed in the torpedo loading scuttles along with the cans of fuel for their motors. Medical supplies and other fragile valuables were secured inside wherever space could be found. Extra rations for the embarked troops, mostly cases of canned fruits and vegetables were also stashed about the ship and were soon the targets of foraging Raiders.”

  MAKIN ATOLL

  The atoll is the northernmost coral isle in the Gilberts group. It is located 3 degrees north of the equator, about two thousand miles southwest of Hawaii. Peatross described the atoll as consisting of “several small, reef-girt islands arranged in a rough isosceles triangle. The deep lagoon enclosed by this triangle is approximately ten miles across at its widest point. Butaritari Island, the largest island in the atoll (about eight miles long by a half mile wide), forms the southeastern base of the triangle.” The island’s western portion was covered by coconut palms, thicker on the south side, and salt brush. The lagoon side is lined with mangrove swamps. Much of the central portion was covered with salt brush and swamp, except near the short line. A packed-coral road ran along the lagoon side of the island’s entire length. Just west of the island’s center portion lies the old British administrative center, which included the Government House and native hospital. The island’s native population numbered about 1,700 just before the war. There were several villages, but the main one was Butaritari east of the government area. There were four concrete or stone piers that jutted out into the lagoon from this area (from east to west): Government Wharf, Stone Pier, King’s Wharf, and On Chong’s Wharf. The island was bordered by reefs on both sides, 100-200 yards across on the southern ocean side and 500-1,500 yards wide on the northern lagoon side.

  Training

  Initial Raider training was completed in San Diego, and then the men shipped off to Hawaii in May. Carlson moved the two companies in mid-July to Barber’s Point, at the southwest corner of Oahu. He picked the location because of its high surf, which was thought to be as rough as Makin. “The landing craft selected for our raid was our old standby, the ten-man rubber boat [LCR-L] which, of course, could and did handle more than ten men,” Peatross said. “Each boat was equipped with an outboard motor whose exposed ignition system could be drowned out by heavy dew, [and] an ‘auxiliary power system’ consisting of one paddl
e per man.” Private William McCall remembered jokingly, “The training at Barber’s Point was fun. We trained in our skivvies and some were dressed in their ‘where-withals.’ The sun baked our skin brown and there wasn’t a woman in sight!”

  Because submarines were not available for training, Carlson anchored two buoys set distances offshore to simulate the missing boats and get the men hardened to paddling in case the motors failed. “Sometimes the motors would run,” Pvt. Ben Carson recalled, “but many times they wouldn’t. The buoys were quite a ways beyond the surf line. We practiced, practiced, practiced—during the day and at night, when there was a pretty good wind blowing.” Private First Class Ray Bauml echoed Carson’s memory of the troublesome outboards. “They would never start and out came the paddles. The boat crew had to paddle like hell to get anywhere, especially against the ocean drift.” Negotiating the surf line required seamanship skills and quite a bit of luck. The boat captain had to judge the wave action just right and then have the paddlers “give way together” to keep the boat heading toward the beach. If he judged the waves wrong, the boat might broach or “bend right in the middle,” Carson said. “… The boat would unbend itself so fast that those seated in the back half … would go airborne and, most often as not, end up in the water.”