No Bended Knee

by Merrill B. Twining

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Praise

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword

  Preface

  CHAPTER 1 - Amphibious Warfare

  CHAPTER 2 - Old George

  CHAPTER 3 - Advance Man in New Zealand

  CHAPTER 4 - Advance Man at Guadalcanal

  CHAPTER 5 - Sour Success

  CHAPTER 6 - Nightmare Battle

  CHAPTER 7 - The 1st “Maroon” Division Digs In

  CHAPTER 8 - “Come Up on This Hill and Fight”

  CHAPTER 9 - Abandoned Mission

  CHAPTER 10 - Buildup to Armageddon

  CHAPTER 11 - October Dogfall

  CHAPTER 12 - Carlson “Gung Ho” and a Touch of Genius

  CHAPTER 13 - “A Way You’ll Never Be”

  CHAPTER 14 - Decisive November

  CHAPTER 15 - Closing Out

  CHAPTER 16 - Australian Interlude

  Epilogue

  What if Germany invaded America in...

  BLACK SHEEP ONE

  DARBY’S RANGERS

  THE BLACK SHEEP

  THE DEADLY BROTHERHOOD

  WEST DICKENS AVENUE

  Edited by Neil G. Carey:

  Copyright Page

  To Betty Carey, whose encouragement, unflagging interest, and continued enthusiasm made completion of this book a reality.

  M. B. T.

  “. . . the bended knee is not a tradition of our Corps. If the Marine as a fighting man has not made a case for himself after 170 years of service, he must go. But I think that you will agree with me that he has earned the right to depart with dignity and honor, not by subjugation to the status of uselessness and servility planned for him by the War Department.”

  —GEN. A. A. VANDEGRIFT, Commandant of the Marine Corps, testifying before the Senate Naval Affairs Committee, 6 May 1946.

  More praise for No Bended Knee

  “Guadalcanal is not the name of an island. It is the name of the graveyard of the Japanese army.”

  —MAJ. GEN. KIYOTAKE KAWAGUCHI

  Commander, 35th Infantry Brigade at Guadalcanal

  “The author enlightens his readers with the tactical and strategic essentials of the campaign, but he does it using the most human terms, incidents, and descriptions.”

  —Marine Corps Gazette

  Commanders should be counseled chiefly by persons of known talent, by those who have made the art of war their particular study, and whose knowledge is derived from experience, by those who are present at the scene of action, who see the enemy, who see the advantages that occasions offer, and who, like people embarked in the same ship, are sharers of the danger.

  If, therefore, anyone thinks himself qualified to give advice respecting the war which I am to conduct—let him not refuse the assistance to the State, but let him come with me into Macedonia.

  He shall be furnished with a ship, a tent, even his traveling charges will be defrayed, but if he thinks this is too much trouble, and prefers the repose of a city life to the toils of war, let him not on land assume the office of a pilot. The city in itself furnishes abundance of topics for conversation. Let it confine its passion for talking to its own precincts and rest assured that we shall pay no attention to any councils but such as shall be framed within our camp.

  —GEN. LUCIUS A. PAULUS (229?–160 B.C.) Rome

  Acknowledgments

  I thank the following individuals for their cooperation, assistance, and belief in this project:

  Capt. James A. Barber, Jr., USN (Ret.), publisher, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Annapolis, Maryland, for reassignment of article rights and years of correspondence.

  Patrick Carney, chief librarian, base libraries, and Deanna Herrman, library technician, Camp Pendleton, California, for their professionalism and courtesy whenever I needed a book, a reference, or other information.

  George B. Clark, the “Brass Hat,”1 of Pike, New Hampshire, for his encouragement and always ready supply of names and phone numbers of who to contact for information and photos.

  Benis M. Frank, chief historian, History and Museums Division, Marine Corps Historical Center, Washington, D.C., for supplying photos and maps.

  Col. John E. Greenwood, USMC (Ret.), editor, Marine Corps Gazette, Quantico, Virginia, for reassigning rights to an article of mine and supplying photos and maps.

  Lt. Gen. Victor H. Krulak, USMC (Ret.), of San Diego, California, for graciously writing the foreword and for our many years of serving together in the Corps.

  Maj. Walter R. Schuette, USMC (Ret.), the “Village Wordsmith,” Fallbrook, California, for transcribing much of my handwritten text into computer copy.

  Kerry Strong, director of archives, Marine Corps Research Center, Quantico, Virginia, for her can-do response to requests for photographs.

  Dale Wilson, former executive editor of Presidio Press, for his interest and helpful suggestions.

  And those others, too numerous to mention by name, who gave encouragement, time, and information to make this project possible.

  Foreword

  Guadalcanal was an immense battle—at sea, in the air, and most certainly on land. It was at this improbable place, an island in the southern Solomons chain, that the Americans and Japanese first slugged it out toe to toe in all three elements. The bitter struggle resulted in the loss of 1,200 aircraft, 49 ships, and as many as 35,000 American and Japanese lives. Although the issue was often in doubt, the Americans finally won. Major Gen. Kiyotake Kawaguchi, commander of the Japanese forces charged with destroying the U.S. Marine invaders, described his defeat for posterity in these words: “Guadalcanal is not the name of an island. It is the name of the graveyard of the Japanese army.”

  Kawaguchi was correct. All of Japan’s victories occurred during the war’s first year. After their defeat at Guadalcanal the Japanese never enjoyed another successful offensive. The gateway to Tokyo had been opened by the gallant men—land, sea, and air—who fought on a shoestring and triumphed in that horrific campaign.

  While much has been written about the actions on and around Guadalcanal, Marine Corps operations there have not, until now, received the detailed evaluative treatment they deserve. The principal written record from which historians usually take departure is the 1st Marine Division’s after-action report. Its sources were meager, many having been destroyed at the direction of Maj. Gen. Alexander A. Vandegrift at the low point of the battle when he believed it was likely his division would have to withdraw to the center of the island for a last-ditch fight. General Bill Twining wrote that report while recovering from malaria in Australia—far from many of the subordinate units whose contribution to the record would have been invaluable.

  General Twining sets the historical record straight in this magnificent book by telling the Marines’ Guadalcanal story in all its painful reality. What he has written, without adjectival embellishment, is true military history—war with the bark on it. It is a story told in elegant detail, resounding with the ring of truth.

  Bill Twining is the ideal man to tell this story. He was in the middle of it from the very beginning. He was a central personality in training the 1st Marine Division, the only U.S. ground force deemed professionally capable of carrying out Admiral Ernest J. King’s brave plan to stop the southward Japanese thrust toward New Guinea. When his superiors saw a need for an advance echelon to deal with the New Zealanders, Twining was selected to head it. When they wanted an aerial reconnaissance of the Guadalcanal objective area, Twining was chosen for the hazardous job. As first the assistant operations officer and later as the operations officer of the division, Twining was at the heart of its operational planning and an eyewitness to the most sensitiv
e—and often traumatic—experiences of the end-of-the-line unit. He watched with revulsion the timidity of the overall tactical commander, VAdm. Frank Jack Fletcher, who wanted to convert the Guadalcanal operation into a hit-and-run raid and who took off after forty-eight hours, directing RAdm. Richmond K. Turner to depart, too—taking with him much of the Marines’ supplies and equipment.

  Twining tells those bitter stories without emotion. He paints an eloquent picture of Marines—on half-rations (much of which were captured from the Japanese), emaciated, and plagued by malaria—taking on the best the emperor had to offer as they defended precious Henderson Field. And he describes with unrestrained admiration the heroism of the Marine, army, and navy pilots who, flying patched-up planes, took to the air daily and triumphed against fearful odds.

  Here is war—real war—in all its nakedness, chronicled in the words of a wise and perceptive observer. Thanks to Bill Twining’s diligence and persistence, nobody will ever again be able to lament that Guadalcanal has not been given its deserved place in the pages of history.

  Every book has weaknesses, of course. This one’s chief shortcoming can be found in the very brief, almost misleading, autobiographical remarks the author makes at the beginning. Modest, self-effacing almost to the point of deception, Twining seeks to portray himself as just another in a long line of unremarkable Marines, but he was much more than that. In truth, Twining was marked from the outset of his career as a leader with courage and initiative, a steel-trap mind, and a renown for getting things done—no matter how difficult. His modesty also became legend. His self-deprecatory behavior is best portrayed in his comment herein that “after the war, I served as head of the Marine Corps Board at Quantico, charged with the development of specific postwar planning and legislative duties connected with unification of the armed forces.”

  What an immense understatement! It would be more accurate to say that after the war Twining perceived, as did few others, the bone-deep hostility to the Marine Corps entertained by the army as well as that service’s determination to engineer the elimination of the Corps. Despite the vigorous antagonism of the army, apathy on the part of the navy— which had problems of its own—and opposition in his own branch, often from officers much senior to him, Twining courageously pursued the legislative preservation of the Marine Corps and its mission. He had a little help from a small group of loyal younger officers who believed in him and who were prepared to risk the opprobrium of their seniors in the Corps, but it was Twining—his resolution, his vision, and his wisdom—who won the day. It is his precise words, written with the stub of a lead pencil and recorded in the National Security Act of 1947 (later Title X, United States Code), that protect the Marine Corps to this day.

  It is for all these things that Marines past, present, and future are in Bill Twining’s debt.

  —LT. GEN. VICTOR H. KRULAK, USMC (Ret.)

  Preface

  I have tried to portray herein a little-known aspect of the war: the role and responsibilities of the professional staff officer in converting the plans and decisions of the high command into ordered and responsive actions in the forward area of battle. This is the purpose of the military staff.

  In the Marine Corps divisional staff there are four staff section chiefs and their functional sections: personnel (D-1), intelligence (D-2), operations (D-3), and logistics (D-4), all headed by a chief of staff reporting directly to the commander. It is not a council of war, as I found out early on, although the head of a section may be questioned freely about those matters pertaining to his particular subdivision because of his presumed detailed knowledge.

  During my service in the 1st Marine Division these staff officers were never assembled as a group. Confederate Gen. Stonewall Jackson, early in his career, lost a battle. He is reputed to have said, “I have held a council of war, and I have lost a battle. As God is my witness I will never hold another.” General Vandegrift must have read that, too.

  The rivalry and discord between line and staff have spanned the decades from the time of Lord St. Vincent, who wrote, “The futile employment ycleped Sta f should be totally done away, and all the frippery of the Army sent to the devil,” to the era of Chesty Puller, who proclaimed in 1942, “Them potted palms up at division, they get promoted because they can write a good letter.”

  This view is a case of “first, kill all the lawyers” transferred to a military setting. The staff is there because it serves a vital purpose. Recognition is rare, medals are few, but the successful staff officer can at least take pride in having served as midwife at the birth of great events.

  General Vandegrift returned to Melbourne, Australia, from Washington, D.C., in late March 1943. Then, in addition to my planning for the Cape Gloucester operation, he designated me to prepare a detailed action report covering operations of the 1st Marine Division on Guadalcanal. An officer had been attached to the division by the Public Relations Section of Headquarters Marine Corps for this express purpose but had failed to comply.

  Writing the report seemed an insurmountable problem, as our operations section records had been burned on Guadalcanal in November at the general’s specific direction. Consequently, the report had to be based mostly on memory. I wrote the narrative part of the final report on an additional duty basis, largely at night or when sick in quarters with malaria, and the time allotted was totally unrealistic due to General Vandegrift’s imminent departure to assume command of I Marine Amphibious Corps (IMAC) with headquarters in Noumea, New Caledonia.

  Memory might have been sufficient for a report covering a brief operation of two days—even two weeks—but not for a prolonged campaign like Guadalcanal, which for such purposes extended from 24 June to 9 December 1942. There were no records to which to refer except the sparse entries in our operations journal (communications log) and sketchy reports and diaries from organic units of the division in Australia. From remote Melbourne it was impossible for us to locate and then communicate with the now-scattered elements of the reinforcing air and ground and U.S. Army forces involved. The result was that the division commanders’ final report included inadequate detail as to the vital services and contributions of these separate units. It became in reality a report inordinately focused on operations participated in by units of the 1st Marine Division to the exclusion of Marine Air, 2d Marine Division, 1st and 2d Marine Raider battalions, and 1st Marine Parachute Battalion.

  Consequently, our division commander’s final report stank, but at least it stank of the battlefield. The official Guadalcanal monograph, not issued until 1949, also stank, but not of the battlefield. It is largely a rehash of our inadequate final report without a serious effort to fill in the gaps referred to above.

  The Guadalcanal Campaign was the decisive battle of the Pacific war, won by the e fective joint action of all the arms and services of the United States. In this effort the Marine Corps played a vital and defining part, yet the Corps has never seen fit to produce a first-rate account of its participation in this most important battle in its long and honorable history.

  Therefore, as the senior survivor of the battle for Guadalcanal, I am recording my own memories of those momentous events of more than a half century ago.

  I was born in Wisconsin and grew up in Oregon, where I learned to hunt, fish, and shoot in company with my five older brothers. Our childhood was greatly influenced by Grand-father Twining, an old soldier who had fought throughout what he always referred to as “the War of the Great Rebellion” and who told us how our family had served in all the nation’s wars, beginning with the Plymouth Colonies War against the Narragansett Indians in 1645. In time each of us brothers served in his own war, four of us in two wars. One became chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  During World War I, at the age of fifteen, I won a competitive appointment to Annapolis, due in large part to my grandfather’s tutoring. As an educator, preparing young men for the service academies was his lifelong hobby. I was his last student. His first was George Barnett, who
served as major general commandant of the Marine Corps during World War I.

  Upon graduating from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1923, I was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Marines. During peacetime I served in a number of assignments that brought me into working contact with the wartime leaders of the Corps. I participated actively, although in a minor role, in all aspects of the development of amphibious warfare, which was to play such a prominent—yet unforeseen—role in the Atlantic, the Mediterranean, and the Pacific theaters.

  My great interest in the Marine Corps became the area of amphibious operations, particularly the defense of advance bases—the business of holding advance bases seized in the island-hopping campaign of a Pacific war, which our Marine Corps leaders had visualized in detail as early as 1921.

  Before Pearl Harbor I became the assistant operations officer of the 1st Marine Division. One month after the landing on Guadalcanal, I succeeded my boss, Col. Gerald C. Thomas, USMC, as D-3 (operations) when he became chief of staff of the 1st Division in September 1942. At that time I became responsible for conducting the defense of the Lunga Perimeter until 9 December, when the division was relieved. My duties included preparation and execution of all division-level plans for attack and defense on an hour-to-hour basis—twenty-four hours a day—throughout this period. These activities included the offensive battles along the Matanikau River, the counterattacks at Koli Point, and the successful defenses against the reinforced Sendai Division in October and the simultaneous rout of Japanese forces attempting to break our forward battle position at the mouth of the Matanikau River.

  After the war I served as head of the Marine Corps Board at Quantico, Virginia, charged with the development of specific postwar planning and legislation connected with unification of the armed forces.

  At the outset of the Korean War I was sent to Camp Pendleton to assist in the embarkation and loading out of the 1st Marine Division for Inchon; and thereafter, the organization of a troop training unit for supplying replacements for units engaged in Korea, and establishment of cold weather training camps in the Sierra Mountains of California.