By Greg Goebel
After a string of bloody defeats at the beginning of World
War II in the Pacific, the United States finally rallied and began to
take the offensive. The first attempt to drive the Japanese out of the
Pacific empire they had seized began in the late summer of 1942, on
an obscure island named Guadalcanal, in the Solomon Islands chain.
The battle for Guadalcanal was desperate and clumsy, with bloody blunders
on both sides. The Americans did prevail, and then began a drive up
the far-flung Solomons to pry loose the Japanese hold on the South Pacific.
The Guadalacanal campaign began with green American sailors
and Marines taking the fight to an enemy that had given the US repeated
beatings through much of the previous year. The action took the Japanese
off guard, however, and they were slow to respond to the threat. The
fight would go on for months before either side knew what they were
up against.
Background - Operation Watchtower
After the Japanese attacked the US Navy base at Pearl
Harbor in Hawaii on 7 December 1941, Imperial Japan appeared unstoppable.
The Americans were quickly crushed in the Philippines, the British were
run out of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia, and the Dutch East Indies were
seized.
The Japanese captured a widespread network of islands in the Pacific
to provide bases for the protection of their new empire, and pushed
southeast to the northern coast of New Guinea and the Solomon Islands
chain that flanked Australia to the northeast.
The Japanese push towards Australia was halted in early May 1942, when
a naval thrust intended to extend Japanese control southwest of New
Guinea was blunted and forced to turn back after the Battle of the Coral
Sea. Japanese and Allied naval losses were roughly equivalent, and though
the battle was a strategic victory for the Allies, it was a tactical
draw.
The Japanese war machine still seemed overpowering, but it suffered
a major blow in early June 1942, when their fleet took great losses
in a confrontation with the US Navy near Midway Island.
Checking the Japanese drive was not enough. It had to be put into reverse.
The first clear opportunity and need to deliver a counterstroke finally
became apparent not long after the Battle of Midway.
As far back as 1919, the Royal Australian Navy had worked
to build a set of volunteer observers on the coast of Australia. These
"coastwatchers" reported any strange incidents, such as the
appearance of foreign or unknown vessels and aircraft. In 1939, in response
to reports that the Japanese seemed unusually interested in the islands
to the north, the Australians expanded the coastwatcher network to those
islands.
The island coastwatchers were recruited from local traders, government
workers, planters, and missionaries who knew their surroundings well
and had good relationships with the locals. They were given radios and
special codes for sending information back to the Australian intelligence
network. They were instructed to avoid combat, and hidden emergency
stations were set up where they could continue to operate even if their
islands were overrun.
In January 1942, the Japanese had occupied the island of New Britain,
meeting little resistance. New Britain is a large island, over 200 miles
(320 kilometers) long, off the northeast coast of New Zealand. At the
north end of New Britain is the town of Rabaul, which the Japanese proceeded
to turn into their major advanced base in the region.
The Solomons chain stretches southeast of New Britain. Looking at a
map of the Solomons doesn't give a good idea of their extent. The chain
is about 1,450 kilometers (900 miles) long, about the length of a drive
up the American West Coast from the Mexican to the Canadian border.
There were many islands in the Solomons chain. The largest were, from
the northwest to the southeast, Bougainville, Choiseul, New Georgia,
Santa Isabel, Guadalcanal, Malaita, and San Cristobal. Bougainville
is the largest, a little over 160 kilometers (100 miles) long, about
the size of the US state of Massachusetts. Guadalcanal is slightly smaller.
Directly east of the Solomons are the Santa Cruz Islands; a turn to
the south leads to the New Hebrides and then a curve back southwest
leads to New Caledonia. Across the wide Pacific to the east of this
constellation of islands lie other far flung island chains: the Fijis,
Samoa, the Cook Islands. Far to the south lies New Zealand.
After the seizure of New Britain, in February the Japanese began to
conduct air raids against Port Moresby, the Australian naval station
on the southern coast of New Guinea. In March, the Japanese landed on
the northeast coast of New Guinea and quickly established themselves
there.
Rugged mountains run down the length of New Guinea and the jungles of
the interior are difficult to penetrate, so the southern coast of the
island was safe from direct attack for the moment. Nonetheless, the
Japanese threat to all of New Guinea and Australia proper was immediate
and serious, as they also moved to occupy the Solomons, which made a
convenient set of stepping stones for further moves that would eventually
cut the sea lanes between Australia and America.
North of Guadalcanal is the smaller Florida Island, which possesses
a fine natural harbor on its south coast, protected from the open sea
by the tiny island of Tulagi. The British administrative capital of
the Solomons was on Tulagi, and in May 1942 the Japanese occupied it.
In June, coastwatchers reported that the Japanese had also occupied
the northwest coast of Guadalcanal opposite Florida Island, and were
building an airstrip there. From there, they would be able to stage
air and sea attacks on Allied bases in the New Hebrides, New Caledonia,
the Fijiis, and Samoa, and interfere with shipping between the US and
Australia.
If Tulagi and Guadalcanal were not retaken quickly, the Japanese would
increase their threat against Australia, and make countermoves all that
much more difficult in the future.
Military operations in the South Pacific fell to the Americans. The
US Army was committed to a "Europe First" strategy that dictated
that America focus on defeating Nazi Germany, and simply perform holding
actions in the Pacific until that was accomplished. The US Navy did
not like this strategy, but ironically the push for taking action in
the Pacific came from Winston Churchill.
The Australians and New Zealanders were supporting the British war effort
in North Africa and elsewhere. Under threat of Japanese invasion, the
Australian government wanted to pull half their forces back to Australia
for home defense.
The logic was clear. It made no sense to pull Australian forces out
of existing military operations and then wait for the Americans to replace
them. It made perfect sense to leave the Australians where they were,
and send new American units to the South Pacific to defend Australia
in their place.
Small American Army units were sent to Christmas Island, south of Hawaii
just above the equator, and Canton Island, in the Phoenix group to the
southwest. The US Navy set up a base on Bora Bora, in the French Polynesian
group, and sent Marines to reinforce Samoa. As there were critical supplies
of chromium and other metals on New Caledonia, a full new US Army division
was formed up there from smaller units, and given the named of the "Americal"
division, for "Americans in New Caledonia".
Simply using these forces defensively wasn't enough. The American public
was collectively enraged at the Japanese for the sneak attack on Pearl
Harbor, and failing to take the fight back to the Japanese would have
further demoralized a public that had been living largely on reports
of defeats for much of the past year.
Back in Washington, a political struggle was underway. Technically,
the Solomons fell under the responsibility of Army General Douglas MacArthur,
who in March had been assigned command of the Southwest Pacific Area.
This included an enormous arc of territory, curving down from the Philippines,
through Southeast Asia and the East Indies, and then into Australia,
New Guinea, and many of the island chains in the area. MacArthur directed
operations from his headquarters in Melbourne, Australia.
The Pacific to the north and east of MacArthur's command was similarly
designated the Pacific Ocean Areas, and was the responsibility of Admiral
Chester W. Nimitz, operating from his headquarters in Honolulu. His
domain included the Marshalls, the Carolines, the Marianas, the Fijis,
Samoa, New Caledonia, the New Hebrides, and New Zealand.
Both the MacArthur and Nimitz felt that the only way to eliminate the
Japanese threat to Australia was to retake Rabaul. MacArthur wanted
to attack Rabaul directly, and use two of Nimitz's carriers and the
1st Marines to help do the job. MacArthur felt he could drive the Japanese
out of the area in a few weeks.
Although in hindsight such a proposal was a fantasy, even the measured
Army Chief of Staff, General George Marshall, was enthusiastic enough
to press the idea with his opposite number, Navy Chief of Staff Fleet
Admiral Ernest J. King.
The Navy was appalled at the idea. The Navy's carriers would have little
room for naval maneuver in the approaches to Rabaul, and would be subject
to persistent attacks from land-based Japanese aircraft based there.
MacArthur's domineering style did nothing to ease Navy apprehensions.
The Navy wanted to take Guadalcanal first, and insisted that it should
be a Navy operation, since all the American resources involved were
Navy.
Admiral King was every bit as big an SOB as MacArthur, and stated his
rejection of the Army's plans in no uncertain terms. MacArthur exploded,
sending angry messages back to Washington that accused the Navy of trying
to take over the whole show.
The diplomatic Marshall sat down with King and talked it out. King was
not a gentle person, but Marshall's credibility and good sense were
enough to allow them to come to an agreement. To resolve the dispute,
the Joint Chiefs of Staff adjusted the border between the domains of
MacArthur and Nimitz. Nimitz would get his assault on Guadalcanal and
Tulagi. MacArthur was assigned to move against the Japanese in eastern
New Guinea, Rabaul, and the western Solomons.
The plan was approved by the Joint Chiefs of Staff on 2 July 1942. At
the time, the military situation for the Allies was desperate in the
extreme. The Germans had just seized Sebastopol in the Crimea, the British
were in full retreat back to Egypt in North Africa, and German U-boats
were sinking Atlantic convoys at an appalling rate. Marshall regarded
it as "a very black hour."
Resources were scraped up for the assault on Tulagi and Guadalcanal,
codenamed OPERATION WATCHTOWER, under the overall command of Vice Admiral
Robert L. Ghormley, operating from the US Navy base in Noumea, on New
Caledonia. Ghormley assigned tactical control of the operation to Vice
Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, who had fought at the Coral Sea and Midway.
The main assault force was to be the 1st Marine Division, then assembling
in Wellington, New Zealand, under the command of Major General Alexander
A. "Archie" Vandegrift. The Amphibious Force that would carry
and land the Marines was under the command of Rear Admiral Richmond
Kelly Turner.
The 1st Marines had been scheduled for six months' training before engaging
in combat, but now they were to be in action by early August. Preparations
were a nightmare. It was effectively winter in the Southern Hemisphere,
the weather was cool and relentlessly rainy, and sick lists were long.
Supplies were arriving by ship, but they had not been well organized
or planned and the result was a confused mess on the docks. Vandegrift
put his troops to work in shifts, unloading and sorting the material
on the waterfront, and gave orders to focus only on the absolute necessities
of fuel, ammunition, and supplies needed for combat operations. There
wasn't enough of it all for comfort, and the Marines renamed the effort
OPERATION SHOESTRING.
On 26 July, Vandegrift and Turner met with Fletcher at sea on board
his flagship, the carrier SARATOGA. Fletcher had little faith in the
operation, and was more concerned with protecting his carriers. There
were only four US carriers in the Pacific, and three were committed
to WATCHTOWER. Fletcher bluntly told Vandegrift and Turner that the
carriers would only remain in the combat area for 48 hours after the
first landing.
Normal amphibious warfare doctrine was to keep the fleet around until
the landing force was established, though no longer as during that time
it was a sitting duck for air and naval attacks. Fletcher was cutting
it much too thin for Vandegrift's and Turner's liking, but they were
not being asked, they were being told, and there was nothing they could
do about it.
The Japanese remained almost entirely ignorant of these preparations.
Many of the Japanese military command were suffering from "victory
disease", or "senshobyo". They had won easily in almost
every battle they had fought, and they had no reason to believe they
would not win just as easily in the future. The defeat at Midway had
not been made public and did not intrude on this vision of military
glory. Few senior military officers believed there would be an Allied
counterstroke until well into 1943.
There were those among them who were more rigorous in their thinking,
including Lieutenant Commander Haruki Itoh of the Naval Intelligence
Center in Tokyo. In late July, his unit identified two new Allied radio
callsigns, both operating on the 4.205 megahertz band and communicating
with Pearl Harbor.
On 1 August, radio direction finders pinpointed the location of the
stations as Melbourne and Noumea. Itoh correctly guessed these were
headquarters for Allied operational forces, gathering for an attack
on New Guinea or the Solomons. He relayed an urgent warning to Truk,
the main Japanese base in the central Pacific, and Rabaul. The message
was ignored.
7 August 1942 - The Invasion of Guadalcanal and Tulagi
Before the end of July, US Navy Task Force 61 was under way, with 82
vessels. The Tulagi landing force was carried on four transports, and
four destroyers in service as assault transports. The Guadalcanal landing
force was carried on 15 transports and cargo vessels. The entire amphibious
force was escorted by eight cruisers, of which three were Australian,
and a destroyer screen. On board the transports were the 19,000 men
of the 1st Marines.
The carrier force remained about 160 kilometers (100 miles) to the south,
and consisted of three carriers, one battleship, five heavy cruisers,
sixteen destroyers, and three oilers.
On the night of 6 August, the Marines began their preparations for the
assault. The carrier force moved to the waters south of Guadalcanal,
while the assault force curved around the western end.
Guadalacanal has a roughly oval shape, twisted north at the western
end and south at the eastern end. The northwest tip is Cape Esperance,
with the north coast running southeast until it reaches Tassafaronga
Point and then turns flat east, until it reaches Taivu Point and turns
southeast again.
The island's terrain is very rugged, with a spine of mountains running
down the center and extending their reaches to the southern shore. The
northern shore has level areas and hills, and is the only area practical
for major military activities.
The airfield that the Japanese were building on the island was about
halfway between Tassafaronga Point and Taivu Point, behind a place called
Lunga Point. The airfield was flanked by the Ilu River to the east and
the Mataniko River to the west. Well to the south of the airfield was
a rugged peak known as Mount Austen.
Directly north of Cape Esperance, about 15 kilometers (10 miles) offshore,
was Savo Island, an oval a few kilometers wide. Florida Island stood
about 32 kilometers (20 miles) away, farther east, and was about 32
kilometers (20 miles) long. Its fine natural harbor faced Guadalacanal,
protected from the sea by little Tulagi and a few other islets, including
Tanambogo and Gavutu.
When the Sun came up on 7 August 1942, the Japanese were taken completely
by surprise by the invasion forces. A Japanese radio operator on Tulagi
keyed off a message to Rabaul: LARGE FORCE OF SHIPS, UNKNOWN NUMBER
OR TYPES, ENTERING THE SOUND. WHAT CAN THEY BE?
He found out soon enough, as naval gunfire began to hit Japanese positions
on Tulagi. He concluded with a final message: ENEMY FORCES OVERWHELMING.
WE WILL DEFEND OUR POSTS TO THE DEATH, PRAYING FOR ETERNAL VICTORY.
Then the shelling silenced the radio.
The radio operator was as good as his word. For 31 hours, the Japanese
on Tulagi held out against the Marines, charging them suicidally over
the old cricket field, and then firing on them from caves until the
Marines blasted them out with dynamite charges.
The Japanese put up a similarly stubborn fight on Gavutu and Tanambogo,
assisted by the fact that the two little islands were surrounded by
coral reefs and the only places to land were fearfully exposed to fire.
The Marines lost 144 men killed and 194 wounded. There were about 800
Japanese on the three little islands. About 700 of them were killed.
23 were captured, with only three who voluntarily surrendered. The remainder
fled to Florida Island, and cleaning them out would take several weeks.
The landing on Guadalcanal itself was unopposed and there were no Marine
casualties. The Japanese on the island were mostly poorly-armed construction
engineers, and took off into the jungle in surprise. In the light of
later Marine experience on Guadalcanal and elsewhere in the Pacific,
this lack of resistance would prove distinctly unusual.
Things didn't remain quiet for long. Two hours after the first landing,
the invasion fleet received a message from Paul Mason, an Australian
coastwatcher on Bougainville, that 24 Japanese torpedo bombers were
headed their way.
Actually, there were 27 Mitsubishi G4M "Betty" twin engine
bombers, plus an escort consisting of Zero fighters. They had been preparing
for a raid on New Guinea from Rabaul, but were hastily reassigned to
attack the American fleet instead, even though Guadalcanal was 1,050
kilometers (650 miles) away and the aircraft were certain to run out
of fuel.
The Japanese aircraft were loaded with bombs and not torpedoes, making
attacks on ships difficult, but they did what they could against the
twisting and turning Allied vessels, antiaircraft fire, and Grumman
F4F Wildcat carrier-borne fighters. A second wave of bombers followed
two hours later, but though the attacks sent the Allied ships twisting
and turning, disorganizing the landing, they did no major damage.
Air battles would continue through the next day, with the Japanese losing
42, aircraft, many of them that simply ran out of gas, with the US Navy
losing a destroyer and a transport, plus 21 fighters.
The Marines suffered no casualties all through D-Day, and by the evening
of 7 August there were 11,000 of them ashore. During the night, the
inexperienced Marines were easily spooked by strange jungle sounds and
prone to fire into the bush at nothing in particular. The next day,
they moved inland against Henderson Field itself, and captured it with
little resistance.
The airfield was in fact almost complete. The Marines had arrived just
at the right time to steal it from the Japanese. The Japanese had also
not had the presence of mind to destroy their equipment and supplies
before they were evicted, so the Marines also obtained trucks and construction
equipment; fuel, construction materials, and large stocks of food; and
even an ice-making machine. The Marines put up a sign: TOJO ICE FACTORY
-- Under New Management
The Marines had easily taken Guadalcanal. Keeping it was not going to
be as easy.
9 August 1942 - Battle of Savo Island
When the news of the invasion of Guadalcanal reached Rabaul on 7 August.
Lieutenant General Harukichi Hyakutake, commander of the Imperial Japanese
17th Army there, believed that the main Allied counterstroke would fall
in New Guinea and that the Guadalcanal operation was merely a diversionary
attack.
Vice Admiral Gunichi Mikawa of the Imperial Navy disagreed entirely,
correctly recognizing the landing as a major offensive. The interservice
rivalries between the Imperial Army and Navy were so bad that they made
the frictions among the US military services look good in comparison,
and Mikawa made little or no attempt to convince the Army they were
wrong.
Instead, he threw together a scratch force of sailors and sent them
immediately to Guadalcanal. He then asked the Navy General Staff in
Tokyo for permission to launch a surface attack on the Allied fleet.
Navy Chief of Staff Admiral Osamu Nagano did not like the idea, believing
that Mikawa might well be steaming into a trap. Nagano was overruled
by his superior, Combined Fleet Commander Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto,
the military genius that had planned the Pearl Harbor attack. Yamamoto
had faith in Mikawa's good sense and judgement and gave him the go-ahead.
That evening, Mikawa led a force of eight warships out of Rabaul harbor,
with himself in command of the heavy cruiser CHOKAI. There were eight
vessels in the strike force, consisting of five heavy cruisers, two
light cruisers, and a destroyer.
Mikawa hoped to obtain surprise by moving mostly at night, but his force
was immediately spotted by the US Navy submarine S-38, lying in secret
outside Rabaul harbor. The submarine's captain radioed a report immediately.
Mikawa's fleet reached Bougainville at sunrise, and dispersed to keep
from attracting attention while search planes pinned down the location
of the US fleet. However, in mid-morning the CHOKAI was spotted by Australian
Lockheed Hudson patrol bombers. Mikawa changed his mind and decided
to proceed in daylight anyway. He reformed his column and set course
towards Guadalcanal.
Mikawa's scout aircraft reported the Allied fleet was divided into two
components. Disturbingly, the carrier force wasn't part of either component.
As Mikawa had no air cover himself, he was entirely vulnerable to air
attack. He boldly planned to steam in quickly and hit the enemy fleet
at about midnight.
Luck often favors the bold. Reports of Mikawa's movements by the S-38
and the Hudsons were fumbled. Turner had ordered a PBY Catalina to fly
up the Solomons to scout out reported Japanese fleet movements, but
the PBY never left, and Turner wasn't told. He was too busy trying to
sort out the confusion caused by the air attacks to double-check. B-17s
operating out of the New Hebrides had simply missed the Mikawa's force.
The Allied amphibious force was sitting off Guadalcanal complacently,
unaware of imminent danger.
If Mikawa had known exactly what was going on with the Allied fleet
as his strike force closed on Guadalcanal, he would not have been able
to believe his good luck. The landing force was not only unprepared,
it was being deprived of air cover.
On the evening of 8 August, Turner summoned General Vandegrift to a
conference on board Turner's flagship MCCAWLEY. Vandegrift took a small
boat to the ship at around 2300 hours, and when he got there he received
very unpleasant news.
Turner informed him that a Japanese surface fleet was on its way from
to Guadalcanal from Rabaul, though Turner had mistaken ideas about the
composition and proximity of that force. He then followed this bad but
not surprising news with something more startling: Vice Admiral Fletcher
had become worried over aircraft losses and the vulnerability of his
three carriers, and so he was pulling them out of the battle.
This was a shock to Vandegrift, but Fletcher's decision had been approved
by his boss, Vice-Admiral Ghormley. Turner then followed this staggering
news with another blow: having lost air cover, he was pulling out his
transports, even though 1,400 Marines and half the division's supplies
were still on board.
Vandegrift felt that Fletcher was "running away". However,
once more he was simply being told, and there wasn't much he could do
about it but have his men unload as much as possible before the transports
left and have them dig in until relief arrived, whenever that might
be.
The meeting was also attended by Admiral Victor A.C. Crutchley, an easygoing
red-bearded Britisher who had received the Victoria Cross for his conduct
during the Battle of Jutland in the First World War. Crutchley was in
charge of the American and Australian cruisers and destroyers in the
escort force. His presence at the meeting was to have serious consequences.
His combined force had received no training in cooperation, and when
Crutchley was summoned to the meeting, he went in his flagship, the
cruiser AUSTRALIA, for reasons of speed. His command had not been clearly
informed of events and was patrolling in two separate groups.
The northern group was under command of Captain Frederick L. Riefkohl
of the cruiser VINCENNES. With Crutchley gone, Riefkohl was in principle
commander of the entire escort force, but nobody bothered to inform
him of Crutchley's absence. The southern group was in principle under
command of Captain Howard D. Bode of the cruiser CHICAGO, but he gave
the matter little thought.
Even as the meeting was going on, floatplanes flew over the escort force.
They were regarded as friendlies, because their running lights were
on and no alert had been received. Crutchley was not informed of the
appearance of the scout planes, even though he would have known what
they meant.
Mikawa's fleet closed towards Guadalcanal in the darkness. Radio intercepts
indicated the presence of the US Navy carrier force, but Mikawa still
had no idea of its location or, fortunately for the Americans, its intentions.
At 0100 hours on 9 August, Mikawa's strike force cruised through the
channel between Savo Island and Guadalcanal. They encountered a destroyer,
the BLUE, on picket duty, but even though the BLUE had radar (and the
Japanese did not), it failed to notice the intruders and turned away.
At 0136 hours a Japanese lookout spotted the core of the Allied southern
force, consisting of the cruisers CHICAGO and CANBERRA and the destroyers
PATTERSON and BAGLEY. Mikawa passed out a command, transmitted with
hooded blinker lights from ship to ship: COMMENCE FIRING.
This meant launching torpedoes, as the Japanese relied heavily on their
superb long-range Long Lance torpedo, superior to any weapon of its
type in the world and far superior to the shabby American designs. Even
though the Americans had taken a bitter taste of the Long Lance during
the sea battles for Java, they still didn't really understand what they
were up against.
Mikawa followed with another order: ALL SHIPS ATTACK. At 0143 a lookout
on the PATTERSON spotted the Japanese strike force and radioed an alarm.
It was too late. Long Lance torpedoes were already making tracks toward
the Allied ships, and then flares dropped by Japanese scout planes lit
up the night.
The CANBERRA was put out of action immediately, hit by two torpedoes
followed by hits from Japanese shells. The cruiser listed, dead in the
water, burning, wracked by explosions.
The two destroyers tried to fight back, but the PATTERSON was bracketing
by searchlights and hit, putting it out of action. The BAGLEY got into
position to fire torpedoes, but her torpedomen found their weapons had
no firing primers.
Captain Bode of the CHICAGO had been asleep and was running to the bridge
just as Mikawa's warships singled her out. A torpedo struck the cruiser's
bridge and the vessel was hit by a shell. Bode tried to direct counterfire,
but in the confusion he steamed away from the attackers.
There was mass confusion among the Allied ships. On board the MCCAWLEY,
Turner had no idea of what was going on except that it was disastrous.
He could only think for the safety of his defenseless transport vessels.
Crutchley and the AUSTRALIA were too far from the action to help, and
in the chaos his broadcast orders were garbled, confusing the response
still further.
After about six minutes of pounding the southern force, Mikawa swung
north to deal with the northern force, consisting of the cruisers VINCENNES,
ASTORIA, and QUINCY, as well as two destroyers. By accident, Mikawa's
column had split in half, but this had the useful effect of catching
the Allied northern force in a crossfire.
At 0148 lookouts on the ASTORIA saw torpedoes pass by, a miss. General
quarters were sounded and the ASTORIA tried to fire back. The ship's
captain was confused, at first thinking he was being fired on by friendlies,
then deciding to fire back even if they were friendlies. The defense
was futile as the CHOKAI's guns bracketed the ASTORIA and smashed it,
bringing it to a halt and setting it ablaze.
The captain of the QUINCY tried to charge the attackers with his ship,
but was caught in the murderous crossfire. A shell wiped out the bridge,
killing most of the crew there, including the captain. The QUINCY stopped
and began to sink. On board the VINCENNES, Captain Riefkohl had no idea
he was in a fight until shells started falling. The VINCENNES took torpedo
and shell hits.
Riefkohl was thinking of ordering ABANDON SHIP at 0215 when the firing
stopped. Mikawa felt he had done enough damage. The CHOKAI had taken
three hits herself and the strike force was disorganized. The American
transports were still there, but Mikawa didn't want to be around when
the Sun came up and American carrier-based planes would presumably arrive,
looking for revenge.
There was another reason Mikawa decided to leave. Although he was a
cool and calculating warrior, even he had been indirectly infected with
the victory disease. The Army had assured him that American soldiers
were worthless in battle. Why should he risk his precious and irreplaceable
cruisers for a prize of such small value?
The QUINCY went down shortly after Mikawa left, followed soon after
by the VINCENNES. CANBERRA struggled on until morning, when it was finally
sunk by the surviving ships in the force, while the ASTORIA sank shortly
after noon. The CHICAGO and the PATTERSON were badly damaged. The sunken
vessels would be joined by others in the coming months, until the sea
to the north of Guadalcanal became known as Iron Bottom Sound.
1,077 Allied sailors died and 700 were injured and left floundering
in the sea. Captain Riefkohl lived on to be a broken man. Captain Bode
killed himself. Admiral Turner chalked up the defeat to a US Navy version
of the victory disease, in which the enemy's capabilities were discounted
despite the strong evidence to the contrary, leading to a lack of readiness.
Mikawa would be severely criticized by Admiral Yamamoto for his failure
to wipe out the American transports. That was the only small consolation
in the Battle of Savo Island, one of the most one-sided defeats in American
naval history. It was of very little consolation to Vandegrift. When
the Sun came up, the transports picked up survivors and headed out to
sea towards New Caledonia with what was left of the escort force. The
Marines were now completely on their own.
10 to 20 August 1942 - Digging in
For the moment, the Japanese Navy felt satisfied with their victory
at Savo Island, but there remained the small matter of the landing force.
The victory disease also infected Imperial Navy intelligence, resulting
in an estimate of only 2,000 US Marines on Guadalcanal. The Navy asked
the Army to clean them out, and appropriate orders were relayed to General
Hyakutake, commander of the Japanese 17th Army in Rabaul.
6,000 men were available for operations against Guadalcanal, including
a 500 man Special Naval Landing Force, an army detachment of 2,000 men
under Colonel Kiyono Ichiki, and 3,500 men under General Kiyotake Kawaguchi.
In reality, there were 11,000 Marines on Guadalcanal and 6,000 on Tulagi.
Their numbers were offset by the fact that they had been left with barely
enough food for a month, and inadequate ammunition and other supplies.
Most of the heavy weapons and equipment hadn't been unloaded from the
transports before they left.
The Japanese bombed the Marines every day at noon, and Japanese destroyers
and cruisers often steamed off the coastline and fired their main guns
inland.
Even without the bombardments, conditions were difficult. Guadalcanal
looked like a tropical paradise from a distance, but up close it was
a hot stinking jungle that smelled of decay, populated by spiders, centipedes,
clouds of malarial mosquitoes, leeches, and other vermin of which the
Marines had never seen the like. The flies were so thick it was difficult
to eat without swallowing them with each spoonful.
The Japanese who had run away during the landing were now becoming a
more tangible threat as well. On 12 August, a patrol of 26 Marines took
a boat up the shoreline to follow up a hint by a Japanese prisoner that
there were some other Japanese who might want to surrender. They found
Japanese, but not ones who were in any mood to surrender. Only three
of the patrol survived and had to swim to safety.
The hardships motivated the Marines. To survive, they would have to
dig in and get the airfield finished. They named it Henderson Field,
after Major Lofton R. Henderson, a Marine pilot who had been lost at
Midway.
They only had a single bulldozer, and only its operator, Private Roy
F. Cate, was allowed to touch it. It worked until it fell to pieces.
The Marines also used the tools and supplies left by the Japanese to
get the job done.
The Marines found they had help from the locals, under the supervision
of the resident coastwatcher, a Britisher named Martin Clemens, who
walked into Marine lines on 15 August with an escort of natives. Assistance
was also starting to come in by sea again, with four destroyer-transports
showing up on the same day with supplies for the air base.
By 20 August 1942, Henderson Field was ready for use. That evening,
as General Vandegrift wrote later: "From the east, flying into
the evening Sun came one of the most beautiful sights of my life --
a flight of 12 SBD dive bombers."
The bombers were under the command of Marine Major Richard D. Mangrum.
Vandegrift wrote: "I was close to tears and I was not alone, when
the first SBD taxied up and this handsome and dashing aviator jumped
to the ground. 'Thank God you have come,' I told him."
The dive bombers were followed by 19 Grumman F4F Wildcat fighters, led
by Marine Captain John L. Smith. The aircraft had flown from the carrier
LONG ISLAND, which was about 320 kilometers (200 miles) south of Guadalcanal
at the time. As the code name for the island was CACTUS, the aircraft
became the core of the "Cactus Air Force".
The isolation of the Marines was ending. The timing was just about perfect:
the Japanese were preparing to retake Guadalcanal.
20 to 21 August 1942 - Battle of the Ilu (Tenaru) River
Just before midnight on 18 August, six destroyers dropped off Colonel
Kiyono Ichiki and 915 of his men at Taivu Point, 32 kilometers (20 miles)
east of Henderson Field. Ichiki had been ordered to wait for the rest
of his men, who would arrive the next week, but he was confident of
victory and set off for Henderson Field immediately, leaving behind
a detachment of 125 men to guard the beach.
Marine lookouts heard the ships go by. General Vandegrift also received
reports of a landing to the west, which in fact was the 500-man Special
Naval Landing Force. While this smaller unit would never take significant
actions against him, Vandegrift was concerned that the Japanese were
organizing a counterattack and sent out patrols to locate the enemy.
Ichiki's men had combat experience in China and he felt they could easily
defeat the Americans. He made little attempt to determine their strength,
apparently once again under the influence of the victory disease. Colonel
Ichiki was so confident that he wrote in his diary ahead of time: "21
August. Enjoyment of the fruits of victory."
The Marines were in fact waiting for him, as they had been alerted by
Vouza and a Marine patrol that had run into a Japanese patrol on the
19th and almost wiped it out. The Japanese dead had maps and diaries
that suggested an attack was imminent.
Martin Clemens' local scouts also proved useful, and in some cases courageous.
A named Jacob Vouza led a group of his fellows on a search and managed
to locate Ichiki's force, but when Vouza tried to crawl close to learn
more, he was captured by the Japanese.
Vouza was tied to a tree for interrogation, beaten to a pulp with rifle
butts, stabbed twice with bayonets in the chest, and when he still refused
to talk, stabbed in the throat and left for dead. Incredibly, he survived
and managed to chew through his ropes that night. He crawled back to
Martin Clemens and warned that hundreds of Japanese were preparing to
attack them. "I did not tell them," he said before he passed
out.
Vouza would recover, and would be awarded the Silver Star and even be
granted the rank of sergeant-major by the Marines. However, by the time
he had informed Clemens of the impending attack, it was already in progress.
In the small hours of the morning of 21 August, Ichiki led his men in
an attack on Marine positions on the western side of the Ilu River (mismarked
on Marine maps as the Tenaru River), a stream that ran north across
the western approaches to Henderson Field. The main attack was across
a sandspit at the mouth of the Ilu and jumped off from a coconut grove
on the east side of the river.
The Marines were dug in and waiting. Ichiki's men were cut to pieces.
They were hit by Marine 37-millimeter antitank guns firing canister,
ran into barbed wire, and were shot down by Marine machine guns and
their Springfield rifles. The Japanese managed to break through the
Marine lines in a few places, leading to vicious hand to hand combat,
but Marine reserve platoons counterattacked and drove them back.
The Japanese continued their futile assault until sunrise. Vandegrift,
seeing that his defenses were solid, ordered a counterstroke, sending
a reserve battalion upriver to cross over and hit the Japanese from
the flank and rear.
The Japanese had fought with reckless courage during the night, but
had suffered terribly, and when the counterattack hit them, they broke
and ran. Marine aircraft strafed and bombed them as they fled up the
beach. Early in the afternoon Vandegrift's encirclement trapped most
of them in the coconut grove.
Their position was hopeless, but they would not surrender. Vandegrift
decided he had to simply exterminate them, and sent five M-3 light tanks
across the sandspit into the coconut grove.
The tanks pushed through the grove, striking down the Japanese with
canister and machine guns or simply running them down until, as Vandegrift
wrote, "the rear of the tanks looked like meat grinders."
The Japanese managed to blow a track off one the the tanks, but the
others simply closed ranks with the disabled vehicle, rescued the crew,
and resumed their slaughter.
At dusk, Colonel Ichiki ordered the regimental colors burned. This attracted
the attention of one of the tanks, but before he could be cut down,
Ichiki committed seppuku, or ritual suicide by disembowlment.
Only two of Ichiki's assault force survived, by hiding in the water
until the Sun went down, allowing them to escape to rejoin their colleagues
at Taivu Point. Almost 800 Japanese were dead, at the cost of 35 dead
and 75 wounded Americans. Pictures survive of some of the Japanese slain
at the sandspit, sad-looking bundles lying half-buried by the tide.
Their faces look strangely peaceful.
The complete defeat of Ichiki's bungled assault was a wake-up call to
the Japanese Army and Navy commands. They were beginning to realize
that the battle for Guadalcanal was going to be no small sideshow.
The Battle of the Ilu River was also a wake-up call of sorts to Vandegrift
and his Marines. Vandegrift wrote to a colleague a few days later:
BEGIN QUOTE:
"General, I have never heard or read of this kind of fighting.
These people refuse to surrender. The wounded wait until men come up
to examine them .., and blow themselves and the other fellow to pieces
with a hand grenade."
END QUOTE
The Japanese showed little mercy and expected little in return. The
Marines adjusted quickly. If the Japanese didn't want to be taken prisoner,
the Marines would not take prisoners.
24 to 25 August 1942 - Battle of the Eastern Solomons
Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto wanted to make Guadalcanal the bait for the
decisive naval battle with the Americans that the Japanese hoped would
finally resolve the war in the Pacific.
The remainder of Ichiki's troops had been en route to Guadalcanal in
transports when the news of the defeat at the Ilu River came back. The
transports regrouped and joined up with an escort force consisting of
a cruiser and several destroyers, with the convoy under the general
command of Rear Admiral Raizo Tanaka. This amounted to an independent
component of a larger naval attack force under Vice Admiral Nobutake
Kondo steaming eastward of the troop convoy to find the American fleet.
The attack force included the two heavy carriers ZUIKAKU and SHOKAKU,
the light carrier RYUJO, two battleships, 11 cruisers, and 19 destroyers.
Admiral Ghormley was ready to do battle and dispatched Fletcher in command
of Task Force 61 to meet the Japanese. Task Force 61 consisted of the
carriers SARATOGA, ENTERRPRISE, and WASP, along with seven cruisers
and 18 destroyers.
By sunrise on 23 August, Task Force 61 was in position some 240 kilometers
(150 miles) to the east of Guadalcanal. Later that day, American patrol
aircraft spotted Tanaka's little fleet of transports and their escorts,
but Tanaka abruptly changed course that afternoon to successfully throw
the Americans off the scent, and Kondo presently did the same with similar
results.
Fletcher believed that the abrupt disappearance of the Japanese meant
an engagement wasn't imminent, and sent the WASP and its escorts south
to refuel.
In fact, the Japanese were simply maneuvering to lure the Americans
into a trap. The light carrier RYUJO and its escorts were sent out separately
as a diversion. At about 0900 hours on 24 August, an American patrol
plane spotted the diversionary group, about 450 kilometers (280 miles)
to the northwest of Task Force 61. Fletcher hesitated until RYUJO launched
air strikes against Henderson Field early that afternoon.
He immediately launched 30 SBD Dauntless dive bombers and eight Devastator
torpedo bombers against RYUJO. In mid-afternoon, the American found
the little carrier and hit it with about four bombs and a torpedo. She
would sink presently.
However, the attack alerted the main Japanese force to the location
of Task Force 61, and launched air strikes of their own. Aichi "Val"
dive bombers managed to penetrate the Wildcat fighter screen and scored
three hits on the ENTERPRISE. Although the ship's damage control teams
responded quickly and effectively, 76 sailors were killed and the ENTERPRISE
had to return to Pearl Harbor for major repairs that would require months.
Fletcher now had only one carrier available for battle. Not only did
that reduce the number of aircraft available for a fight, but if the
SARATOGA were hit, he would be left without air cover. He decided to
withdraw.
The Battle of the Eastern Solomons, as the incident would be known,
was more or less a draw in terms of naval damage. However, the Japanese
lost about 75 aircraft, while the Americans lost about 25. The Americans
could easily make good their losses, but the Japanese could not. Replacement
of skilled aircrews was particularly difficult.
Japanese pilots returning from their strikes were exhuberant, however.
While it is common in wartime to exaggerate the losses inflicted on
an enemy, the pilots reported sinking or badly damaging a dozen warships,
including three carriers and a battleship.
Although the main Japanese fleet retired as well once Task Force 61
left the battle, Tanaka's troop transport convoy continued on into the
darkness on 24 August. Tanaka was aware that he was vulnerable to air
attack, but he sent his destroyers ahead to pound Henderson Field and
hopefully suppress Marine air strikes.
Fortune does not always favor the bold. In mid-morning on 25 August,
the convoy was discovered by a roving patrol of eight Marine Dauntless
dive bombers. The bombers badly damaged the cruiser JINTSU and sank
a transport. While the destroyers were engaged in rescue operations,
they were attacked by B-17 Flying Fortress bombers out of Espiritu Santo
in the New Hebrides. One of the B-17s scored a wildly lucky hit on a
destroyer and sank it.
Even with this, Tanaka was determined to continue and would have done
so if he had not received orders radioed to him from Rabaul. He was
ordered to return to Shortland Island, a small island off Bougainville
that was being used as an advanced staging area for operations against
Guadalcanal. Ichiki's reinforcements never arrived.
12 to 14 September 1942: Battle of Bloody Ridge
By this time, supplies were flowing in quantity to the Marines on Guadalcanal,
but the island was grinding them down. The heat and vermin were inconveniences
compared to the dysentery, malaria, and fungal infections that sapped
the Marines' strength. Many of them were nonetheless reluctant to take
Atabrine, an anti-malarial medicine, as they believed it would make
them impotent. Medics were ordered to stand in chow lines and watch
each man swallow an Atabrine pill before allowing them to eat.
The Japanese did not intend to make life any easier for them. They sent
in bomb raids and fighter sweeps, and Marine units skirmished with Japanese
infantry. Nighttime destroyer runs ferried Japanese reinforcements and
supplies to the island, operating on such a regular basis that the Marines
started calling the nighttime runs the "Tokyo Express".
There were bigger things in the works. General Kawaguchi had arrived
at Shortland with 3,500 men and wanted Admiral Tanaka to get them to
Guadalcanal immediately. Tanaka was in agreement with Kawaguchi's goal,
but the two men disagreed on the means of accomplishing it.
Kawaguchi wanted to transport his men in barges to ensure that they
could bring along adequate food, equipment, and supplies, as the lack
of such essentials had been a major factor in Ichiki's disastrous defeat.
Tanaka had taken a nasty taste of what it was like to try to run ships
to Guadalcanal in the face of Allied air attacks, and insisted on using
destroyers to make fast runs under cover of darkness.
Kawaguchi finally suggested a compromise. He and 2,400 men would be
carried by destroyers to Taivu Point, while 1,100 of his men would be
sent by barges to Kokumbona, a village about 16 kilometers (10 miles)
west of Henderson Field. This detachment would be under the command
of one of Kawaguchi's regimental commanders, Colonel Akinosuke Oka.
Oka believed the barges would work. He didn't like the odds of making
the run to Guadalcanal in Tanaka's destroyers, and felt that the motorboats
could survive by skipping from island to island in the dark and hiding
out during the day.
Tanaka agreed to the plan and it was set in motion. General Kawaguchi
was a thoughtful man, possibly too thoughtful for the liking of his
superiors, and he had misgivings about the operation. The night they
departed Shortland, he told a friendly war correspondent that intelligence
showed the US Marines on Guadalcanal were well dug in and well supplied.
"When we come to think of such things," Kawaguchi said, "it
seems extremely difficult for a small unit like ours to retake the airfield.
Wouldn't you think the destruction of the Ichiki Detachment would be
lesson to us? But Imperial Headquarters belittles the enemy on Guadalcanal
and declares that once we land successfully, the Marines will surrender."
On the evening of 31 August, eight of Tanaka's destroyers dropped Kawaguchi
and his men off at Taivu Point. There they met with the survivor's of
Ichiki's force, who were ragged and starving. They told the newcomers
that they had been under continuous attack by American aircraft.
Kawaguchi moved westward to an abandoned village that night, and the
next day they found out that Ichiki's men weren't exaggerating the air
attacks. Marine Wildcats and Dauntlesses, plus newly arrived US Army
Bell Airacobras, searched for Kawaguchi's men.
They remained hidden for the day, but at night on 1 September, the second
group of 1,000 of Ichiki's men that not reached Guadalcanal was finally
dropped off. There was a communications mixup, and Kawaguchi's men fired
on them, killing two and wounding eight. That was unfortunate, but much
worse the firing alerted the Americans to Kawaguchi's position, and
aircraft began to pound the Japanese mercilessly.
By this time, the Americans were getting used to the Tokyo Express.
The Solomons were arranged in roughly two rows, and the destroyers had
to run down between the rows. The Americans called this channel "The
Slot".
There were occasional naval clashes in the night. Early on the morning
of 5 September, the destroyer-transports LITTLE and GREGORY went after
what they thought was a Japanese submarine outside of Tulagi Harbor
and ran into the Tokyo Express. The two lightly-armed vessels were hammered
to pieces and sank quickly.
Despite the air attacks, Kawaguchi remained where he was, waiting for
word that the Oka's detachment of 1,100 men who were being transported
by barge had arrived west of Henderson Field. The barges had proven
to be a bad idea and Kawaguchi realized it, since he didn't receive
word from Oka that he was preparing to land until 4 September.
Kawaguchi sent out a lieutenant with three men to circle around Henderson
Field with instructions for Oka to participate in a coordinated attack.
Kawaguchi waited two days, and then set out with 3,100 men on 6 September,
leaving a rearguard behind. He planned to loop through the jungle and
attack the airfield from the south, while Oka launched a diversionary
attack from the west.
The Marines were not sitting idly, waiting to be attacked. On 7 September
the 1st Marine Raider Battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Merritt A.
Edson, known as "Red Mike" for his red hair, hit the beach
above the village that Kawaguchi had just abandoned. The Japanese rearguard
fought back for a short time, killing two Marines, and then faded into
the jungle.
The Marines captured intelligence information, as well as Kawaguchi's
dress uniform. "The bastard must have been planning to shine in
Sydney society," one Marine said. They wrecked everything they
could, even pissing on the food supplies left behind by the Japanese,
packed up on tins of crab and beef, and departed. One of the Japanese
survivors wrote with a certain grudging admiration: "It is maddening
to be the recipients of these daring and insulting attacks."
Kawaguchi assumed that Oka's force was intact, but that was not the
case. The trip in the barges had been a disaster, and Oka had lost 650
of his 1,100 men to air attacks and storms. The survivors had little
food or ammunition and were not an effective force.
The trek through the jungle was a nightmare. The Japanese had little
food and were increasingly suffering from malaria and other diseases.
They struggled through the dark and tangled forest, carrying heavy and
exhausting burdens of weapons and ammunition.
Although the Japanese offensive was not starting out well, General Vandegrift
was still uncertain that he could hold Henderson Field. His Marines
were stretched thin, attrition had whittled down the Cactus Air Force,
and Admiral Ghormley was waffling on naval support. The Tokyo Express
shelled the airfield almost every night.
The Lunga river curved south and west of Henderson Field, and to the
south was overlooked by a long, low ridge. Vandegrift decided correctly
that the Japanese would attack him along this ridge, and sent Edson
and his Raider battalion over to the far slope of the ridge to hold
it.
Kawaguchi, however, believed he had the element of surprise. He also
underestimated the number of Americans around Henderson Field by a factor
of two or three. The team that he had sent to contact Oka did in fact
make contact with the western detachment at the last moment, though
the four soldiers were weak with starvation and likely wouldn't have
made it if they had not found abandoned American field rations.
The Japanese attack jumped off at about 2100 hours on 13 September,
led by shelling from naval artillery. They outnumbered the Marines on
that line by about three to two, and the Americans were pressed hard
by the attack. Colonel Edson pulled his men back to tidy their lines
and called in artillery fire in front on them, breaking the Japanese
attack. When some of his men wavered and started to fall back on their
own, Edson told them: "Go back where you came from. The only thing
they've got that you haven't is guts."
The Japanese regrouped and charged again. The Marines fell back to the
top of the ridge and hit the Japanese with machine gun fire, grenades,
mortars, and artillery. The Marine defense solidified and held.
The next morning the Marines found about 600 dead Japanese in front
of them. 40 Marines had been killed as well. Japanese stragglers made
courageous but doomed attacks through the morning, with three charging
General Vandegrift in front of his command post. The three were shot
and killed immediately.
Colonel Oka threw his men into the fight the next afternoon. The action
was futile and was quickly crushed. That evening, Kawaguchi led another
assault. He had little hope of it succeeding, and he and his men were
pinned down in a storm of metal.
The survivors managed to creep away in the darkness. The survivors suffered
a misery march, characterized by more disease and starvation, looping
west to where Oka had landed. The ridge where they had come to ruin
became known as "Bloody Ridge". They had lost roughly 800
men, while the Marines lost about 100 men killed and 220 wounded.
The Marines had scored a significant victory over the Japanese at Bloody
Ridge, but the battle was not decisive. The naval support for the Marines
was becoming precarious, and Ghormley had let Vandegrift know that naval
support for further operations might not be forthcoming.
The carrier ENTERPRISE had been badly damaged during the Battle of the
Eastern Solomons and was out of the battle. A week later a Japanese
submarine put a torpedo into SARATOGA, also damaging it badly enough
to take it out of action for some time. There were a number of relatively
minor injuries from the hit. Admiral Fletcher had his forehead gashed
up.
WASP had been joined by HORNET, but on 14 September two Japanese submarines
penetrated the destroyer screens and put several torpedoes into the
WASP, and also hit the battleship NORTH CAROLINA and a destroyer. The
WASP went down that afternoon.
Ironically, Vandegrift was now receiving regular supplies and reinforcements
and was feeling confident. He was angry when a reported told him that
there were grave doubts about the operation in Washington and in Ghormley's
headquarters in Noumea.
"Are you going to stay here?" the reported asked,
"Hell yes! Why not?!"
(See 'Part Two' in the ZIP)
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