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Breaking the Outer Ring:Marine Landings in the Marshall Islandsby Captain John C. Chapin, USMCR (Ret)

y the beginning of1944, United StatesMarine forces had al-ready made a dramaticstart on the conquest

of areas overrun by the Japanese ear-ly in World War II. Successful Ameri-can assaults in the Southwest Pacificbeginning with Guadalcanal in theSolomon Islands in August 1942, andin the Central Pacific at Tarawa in theGilbert Islands in November 1943,were crucial campaigns to mark theturn of the Japanese floodtide of con-quest. The time had now come totake one more decisive step: assaultof the islands held by Japan before1941.

These strategic islands, mandatedto the Japanese by the League of Na-tions after World War I, were asource of mystery and speculation.Outsiders were barred; illegal fortifi-cations were presumed; yet any Cen-tral Pacific drive towards Japan'sinner defense ring had to confrontthese unknowns. The obvious targetto begin with was the Marshall Is-lands. As early as 1921 a Marineplanning officer had pinpointed theirgeographic significance.

Planning the Attack

In May 1943, the Combined Chiefsof Staff decided to seize them. Thisdifficult assignment fell to AdmiralChester W. Nimitz who bore the im-pressive titles of Commander in

On the Cover: A flamethrower, center,is among weapons carried by men of the22d Marines on Eniwetok. At left: Ma-rine riflemen, under fire, leap from ajust-beached amphibian tractor in theJanuary 1944 landing. (Department ofDefense Photo [USMC] 72411)

Chief, Pacific, and Commander inChief, Pacific Ocean Areas (CinC-Pac/CinCPOA), based at Pearl Har-bor in Hawaii. He turned to fourvery capable men who would carryout the actual operation: three ad-mirals who were experts in amphibi-ous landings, fast carrier strikes, andshore bombardment, and MajorGeneral Holland M. Smith, who wasthe commanding general of the Ma-rines' V Amphibious Corps and nowalso would be Commanding Gener-al, Expeditionary Troops. It was hewho would command the troopsonce they got ashore. Original cau-tious plans for steppingstone attacksstarting in the eastern Marshalls weremodified, and the daring decisionwas made to knife through the edgesand strike directly at Kwajalein Atollin the heart of Marshalls' cluster of32 atolls, more than 1,000 islands,and 867 reefs.

Kwajalein is the largest atoll in theworld, 60 miles long and 20 mileswide, a semi-enclosed series of 80reefs and islets around a huge lagoonof some 800 square miles. Located620 miles northwest of Tarawa and2,415 miles southwest of Pearl Har-bor, its capture would have far-reaching strategic significance in thatit would break the outer ring ofJapanese Pacific defense lines. Withinthe atoll itself there were two objec-tives: Roi and Namur, a pair of con-nected islands shaped like weights ona four-mile barbell in the north end,and crescent-shaped Kwajalein Islandat the south end. The 4th Marine Di-vision under Major General HarrySchmidt was to assault Roi-Namur,and the Army 7th Infantry Divisionunder Major General Charles H.Corlett would attack Kwajalein. Af-

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ter these islands were taken, therewas one more objective in the Mar-shalls: Eniwetok Atoll. This was tar-geted for attack some three monthslater by a task force comprised of the22d Marine Regiment (called in theCorps the "22d Marines") and mostof the Army's 106th Infantry Regi-ment. Brigadier General Thomas E.Watson, USMC, would be incommand.

As a preliminary to these priorityoperations, the occupation ofanother atoll in the eastern Marshallswas planned. This objective wasMajuro, which would serve as an ad-vanced air and naval base andsafeguard supply lines to Kwajalein220 miles to the northwest. Becauseit was believed to be very lightlydefended, only the Marine V Am-phibious Corps ReconnaissanceCompany and the 2d Battalion,106th Infantry, 7th Infantry Divisionwere assigned to capture Majuro. Tosupport all of these thrusts therewould be a massive assemblage ofU.S. Navy ships: carriers, battleships,cruisers, destroyers, and an astonish-ingly varied array of transports andlanding craft. These warships provid-ed a maximum potential for intensivepre-invasion aerial bombing andship-to-shore bombardment; the in-creased tonnage in high explosives,the lengthened duration of thesoftening-up process, and the pin-pointing of priority enemy targetswere all lessons sorely learned fromthe inadequate preparatory shellingwhich had contributed to the steepcasualties of Tarawa. For the Mar-shalls, there were altogether 380ships, carrying 85,000 men.

With the plans in place and a verytight schedule to meet the D-day

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Major General Holland M. Smithne of the most famous Ma-rines of his time, GeneralSmith was born in 1882. He

was commissioned a second lieutenant in1905. There followed a series of overseasassignments in the Philippines, Nicara-gua, Santo Domingo, and with the Ma-rine Brigade in France in World War I.Beginning in the early 1930s, he becameincreasingly focused on the developmentof amphibious warfare concepts. Soonafter the outbreak of war with Japan in1941, he was assigned to a crucial posi-tion, command of all Marines in theCentral Pacific.

As another Marine officer laterdescribed him, "He was of mediumheight, perhaps five feet nine or teninches, and somewhat paunchy. Hisonce-black hair had turned gray. Hisonce close-trimmed mustache was some-what scraggly. He wore steel-rimmedglasses and he smoked cigars incessant-ly:' There was one other feature thatcharacterized him: a ferocious temperthat earned him the nickname, "Howlin'Mad" Smith, although his close friendsknew him as "Hoke."

This characteristic would usuallyemerge as irritation at what he felt were

sub-standard performances. One famousexample of this was his relief of an Armygeneral from his command. It camewhen an Army division was on the linealongside two Marine divisions on Sai-pan in the Marianas Islands campaignfollowing the Marshalls operation. Ahuge interservice uproar erupted!

Less than two years later, after 41years of active service, during which hewas awarded four Distinguished Serv-ice Medals for his leadership in four suc-cessive successful amphibiousoperations, he retired in April 1946, asa four-star general. He died in January1967.

deadline, the complex task of assem-bling and transporting the assaulttroops to the target area was put inmotion. Readying the Army 7th Di-vision was the easiest part of thelogistical plan; it was already inHawaii after earlier operations atAttu and Kiska in the Aleutian Is-lands off Alaska. The 22d Marines,however, had to come from Samoa(where it had been on garrison dutyfor some 18 months), and the 4thMarine Division was still at CampPendleton in California, where it hadrecently been formed. On 13 Janu-ary 1944, the division sailed fromSan Diego to commence the longestshore-to-shore amphibious operationin the history of warfare: 4,300 miles!

Life at sea soon settled down intoa regular routine. All hands soon be-

came acquainted with the rituals ofalerts for "General Quarters" in theblackness of predawn, mess linesstretching along the passageways, in-spections and calisthenics on the clut-tered decks, the loudspeaker with itsshrill whistle of a "bosun's pipe" andits "Now hear this!;' fresh waterhours, and classes and weapons-cleaning every day. Off duty, the mentook advantage of the opportunity tosleep, play cards, stand in line for icecream, write letters, and, of course,engage in endless speculation aboutthe division's objective (which wasoriginally known only by the intrig-uing title of "Burlesque andCamouflage").

On 21 January the transports car-rying the Marines anchored in Lahai-na Roads off Maui, Hawaii, and

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visions of shore leave raced throughthe minds of all the men: hula girls,surf swimming, cooling draughts ina local bar — just what was needed af-ter the long nights in the crowded,humid troop compartments duringthe voyage. Over the ships' loud-speakers, sad to say, came a not un-expected announcement, "There willbe no liberty

After one day filled with confer-ences and briefings for the seniorofficers, the task force sailed again.Next stop: the Marshall Islands! Enroute, crossing the-l8Oth Meridian,there were the traditional, colorfulceremonies in which the old salts in-itiated the men who had never beforecrossed the International Date Lineinto the "Domain of the Golden Dra-gon:' On 30 January the ships thread-

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 72162B

On board Rocky Mount (AGC 3), newly designed and equipped to serve as a am-phibious command ship, MajGen Holland M. Smith, V Amphibious Corps com-mander and commander of Expeditionary Troops at Roi-Namur in the Mars halls,points out a feature of the battle to his chief of staff, BGen Graves B. Erskine.

ed their way through the easternatolls of the Marshalls, and the fol-lowing morning (dawn, 31 January)they halted before their objectives,with the northern component offRoi-Namur and the southern compo-nent facing Kwajalein Island. On ev-ery transport the men crowded theships' rails to stare at the low-lyingislets which they must soon attack.The 23d, 24th, and 25th Marineswere assigned to the Roi-Namuroperation, and the 32d, 17th, and184th Infantry Regiments of theArmy's 7th Division were to take theKwajalein Island objectives.

Meanwhile, the small group as-signed to Majuro (2d Battalion, 106th

Infantry, plus the V AmphibiousCorps Reconnaissance Company)had split off from the main task forceand would make its own landing on31 January. Advance intelligence es-timates of minimal enemy forcesproved accurate; there were noAmerican casualties and just oneJapanese officer was captured on themain islet. Three days later morethan 30 U.S. ships lay at anchor inthe Majuro lagoon.

Forward at the main theater, anawesome pre-landing saturationbombardment, begun on 29 January,was in full swing. U.S. Navy shipsmoved in on Roi-Namur, with someat the unprecedented short range of

1,900 yards, and poured in theirpoint-bank massed fire. Continuingthe repeated aerial strikes which hadbegun weeks earlier from the carri-ers, waves of planes swept in low forbombing and strafing runs. Key ene-my artillery and blockhouse strongpoints had earlier been mapped fromsubmarine and aerial reconnaissance,and individual attention was given tothe destruction of each one. Thecombined total of shells and bombsreached a staggering 6,000 tons.

As a result of the underwater ob-stacles and beach mines uncovered atTarawa, for the first time Navy un-derwater demolition teams had beenformed for future operations. For-

Major General Harry Schmidthe leader of the 4th MarineDivision at Roi-Namur wasborn in 1886 and entered the

Corps as a second lieutenant in 1909. Byextraordinary coincidence, his first for-eign duty was at Guam in the MarianasIslands, an area he would return to 33years later under vastly different circum-stances!

The Philippines, Mexico, Cuba, andNicaragua (where he was awarded aNavy Cross — second only to the Medalof Honor), interspersed with repeatedstays in China, were the marks of a

diverse overseas career. At home, therewere staff schools, paymaster duties, anda tour as Assistant Commandant.

By the end of the war, he had beendecorated with three Distinguished Serv-ice Medals. Retiring in 1948 after 39years of service, he was advanced to thefour-star rank of general. He died in1968.

A contemporary described him as "aBuddha, a typical old-time Marine: hehad been in China; he was regulationOld Establishment; a regular Marine:'

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Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 1118D

MajGen Harry Schmidt

The 4th Marine Division

T his division was formed as theresult of the organization andredesignation of several other

units. The 23d Marines began as infan-try detached from the 3d Division inFebruary 1943, the same month that anartillery battalion of the 12th Marinesbecame the genesis of the 14th Marinesand engineer elements of the 19th Ma-rines formed the nucleus of the 20thMarines. In March the 24th Marineswas organized, and then in May it wassplit in two to supply the men for the25th Marines.

This war-time shuffling provided themajor building blocks for a new divi-sion. The units were originally sepa-rated, however, with the 24th Marinesand a variety of reinforcing units (en-gineer, artillery, medical, motor trans-port, special weapons, tanks, etc.) atCamp Pendleton in California. The

rest of the units were at Camp Lejeune,North Carolina. This East Coast eche-lon moved to Pendleton by train andtransit of the Panama Canal in Julyand August. When all the units werefinally together, the 4th Marine Divi-sion was formally activated on 14 Au-gust 1943.

After intensive training, it shippedout on 13 January 1944, and in 13short months made four major assaultlandings: Roi-Namur, Saipan, Tinian,and Iwo Jima, suffering more than17,000 casualties. It was awarded twoPresidential Unit Citations and a NavyUnit Commendation, and then deac-tivated 28 November 1945. In Febru-ary 1966, however, it was reactivatedas the lead division in the MarineCorps Reserve, and major units laterserved with distinction in the PersianGulf.

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) A707113

Shoulder patch of the 4th Marine Di-vision: a gold "4" on scarlet back-ground, official colors of the U.S.Marine Corps. This emblem was de-signed by John Fabion, in the division'sPublic Affairs Office before the Mar-shalls campaign, and his commandingofficer was astonished to find that thelayout of the runways on the Japaneseairstrip on Roi were "an exact replica."

tunately, they found no mines at Roi-Namur and were not needed atKwajalein.

Another factor which would assistthe assault troops was the configu-ration of the atoll. The two main ob-jectives, at the north end and at thesouth, were each adjoined by islets,and these neighboring locations wereto be seized on D-day, 31 January, asbases to provide close-in artillerysupport for the infantry landing. Oneither side of Roi-Namur the 14thMarines would bring in its 75mmand 105mm howitzers and dig themin to support the main landing fromislets which carried the exotic namesof Ennuebing, Mellu, Ennubirr, En-numennet, and Ennugarret. As is al-ways the case in war, there wereproblems. The task was assigned tothe 25th Marines, and, because ofcommunications difficulties, thedifferent units going ashore on differ-ent islets could not coordinate theirlandings. Their radios went deadfrom drenching sea swells that sweptover the gunwales of the amtracs(LVTs, landing vehicles, tracked, or

amphibian tractors). Nevertheless, bynightfall, the beachheads had beensecured, and, for the first time, U.S.Marines had landed on a Japanesemandate.

On board the transports outsidethe lagoon, the men of the 23d and24th Marines spent the afternoon ofD-day transferring to LSTs (LandingShips, Tank). That night saw a mud-dled picture of amphibian tractorsstranded or out of gas inside the la-goon, with many others wanderingin the blackout as they sought to findtheir own LST mother ship.

While this scramble was going on,the assault troops on board the LSTswere facing, each in his own way, theprospect of intensive combat on thefollowing morning. One rifleman,Private First Class Robert F. Graf,remembered:

As I thought of the landing thatI would be making on the mor-row, I was both excited andanxious. Yes, I thought ofdeath, but I wasn't afraid.Somehow I couldn't see myselfas dead. "Why wasn't there

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fear?" I wondered. Even thoughI was nervous, it was with ex-citement, not fear. Instead therewas a thrill. I was headed forgreat adventure, where I hadwanted to be. This was just anadventure. It was "grown up"Cowboys and Indians, it was"grown up" Cops and Robbers.

Thoughts of glory were inmy mind that night. Now it wasmy turn to "carry the flag" intobattle. It was my turn to be apart of history. To top it all off,I was going into battle with the"Elite of the Elite;' the UnitedStates Marines. Just prior tofalling asleep, I prayed. Myprayers were for courage, formy family, and I prayed to stayalive.

By the next morning, D plus 1, 1February, the LSTs had moved insidethe lagoon. Up before dawn, the in-fantrymen filed into the cavernousholds of the LSTs and clambered on-board their amphibious tractors.Graf described his equipment:

Landings were made with each

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person loaded with weight. Wewore our dungarees, leggings,and boondockers (shoes). Ourskivvies (underwear) had beendyed green while we were stillin the States. White ones weretoo good a target. In addition,our packs were loaded withwhatever gear we thought wewould need, such as extrasocks, toilet gear, poncho, andour "D" and "K" rations. Extracigarettes were stuffed in also.Believe it or not, some of us car-ried books that we werereading.

I wore two knives. The K Bar[knife] that was issued wastucked into my right legging.The throwing stiletto that I hadpurchased was on my belt; aleather thong at the bottom ofthe sheath was tied around myleg so that the knife would notflop around. My bayonet wasin its sheath and attached to mypack. On went the loaded pack.Around my waist went the car-tridge belt, fully loaded, withten clips of Ml rifle ammo, eachclip holding eight rounds. Overmy shoulder were two ban-doleers of Ml ammo, holdingan additional eighty rounds.Hanging from my pockets werefour hand grenades, only re-quiring a pulled pin to be acti-vated. We donned our helmetswith the brown camouflagedcovering. Finally we slung ourgas masks over our shoulders.Now we were ready for bear!

Out of the deafening din of theships' holds, eerily lit by red battlelamps, down the ramps of the un-folding bows, lurching into the roughseas whipped up by the wind, thecolumns of amtracs went to war.

As the amphibian tractors soughtto form up in organized attackwaves, a series of problems arose.There was a continuation of therough weather and radio communi-cations difficulties of the day before;the amtrac crews had not previous-ly practiced with the assault units;the control ship turned out to havebeen assigned firing missions as well

as wave control and left its controlstation (followed by some stray am-tracs); the attack commander wasreduced to racing around in a smallship and shouting instructionsthrough a megaphone. As a result,W-hour, the hour for attack, had tobe postponed from 1000 to 1100.

Meanwhile the men in the amtracs(and some in hastily scrounged upLCVPs [landing craft, vehicle or per-sonnel]) were watching the awe-inspiring sight of the furious bom-bardment. Overhead, for the firsttime in the Pacific War, two Marineswere in airplanes to act as naval gun-fire controllers who would cut off theshelling when the troops approachedthe beach. Brigadier General WilliamW. Buchanan later recalled how oneof them "on one of his passes foundone of the trenches on the north sideof Namur filled with a number oftroops crouching down in the trench.So he asked the pilot to go in on astrafing attack, and then as theycame over he was going to continueraking them with the machine guns.He did this to such a point that, af-ter they got back to the ship, it wasdetermined that in his [the spotter's]enthusiasm he practically shot off thetail end!"

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 146975

Jammed all together in the fetid multi-tiered bunks below decks, Marine troopswelcomed being in the fresh air on deck even if they were also crowded there.

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Down in the lagoon the signal fi-nally came to the assault waves, "Goon in!,, The two lead battalions of the23d Marines headed for Roi, with thetwo lead battalions of the 24th Ma-rines churning towards Namur. Thememories of this run-in were burnedforever into the mind of young Se-cond Lieutenant John C. Chapin,leading his platoon in the first wave:

By now everything was allmixed up, with our assault waveall entangled with the armoredtractors ahead of us. I orderedmy driver to maneuver aroundthem. Slowly we inched past, astheir 37mm guns and .50-cal.machine guns flamed. Thebeach lay right before us.However, it was shrouded insuch a pall of dust and smokefrom our bombardment that we

could see very little of it. As aresult, we were unable to tellwhich section we were ap-proaching (after all our hours ofcareful planning, based on hit-ting the beach at one exactspot!) I turned to talk to my pla-toon sergeant, who was man-ning the machine gun rightbeside me. He was slumpedover—the whole right side ofhis head disintegrated into amass of gore. Up to now, theentire operation had seemedalmost like a movie, or like oneof the innumerable practicelandings we'd made.

Now one of my men lay in awelter of blood beside me, andthe reality of it smashed into myconsciousness.

The landing then became a chaotic

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jumble of rapid events for that officerand his men. There was a grindingcrash to their right, and looking overthey saw an LVT collide at the water'sedge with an armored tractor, climbon its side and hang there, crazilyatilt. Simultaneously, there was agrating sound under their tractor asthey hit the beach. Keeping low, themen slid over the side of the tractorand dove for cover, for their LVT wasa perfect target sitting there on thesand. The lieutenant was the last oneto drop to the deck, and as hesprawled on the sand, the amtracground its way backwards into theocean.

Now the lieutenant faced his firstcombat in a situation that character-ized all the landing beaches. His in-tensive training stood him in goodstead as he took stock of the situa-

Department of Defense Photo (USMC 70490Col Franklin A. Hart, commander of the 24th Marines, briefs To his left is his regimental executive officer, LtCol Homerhis staff on the operation plan for the invasion of Roi-Namur. L. Litzen berg, Jr. Both would retire as general officers.

Naval Support

T he infantry assault units in the Marshalls opera-tions were carried by an incredible array of shipsdesigned to perform very specialized functions.

Also included were converted destroyers. The amphibiantractors carried the invading Marines in to the beaches, sup-plemented by the older ramped landing craft. Added tothese were a jumble of acronyms: LCI, LST, LSM, etc., forinfantry; rockets, tanks, and trucks.

No landings would have been successful, however,without the crucial support of naval gunfire and aerialbombardment. The fast task force that roamed the Pacificand the support groups which stood off the island objec-tives were visual proof of the deadly striking power thathad been reborn in the U.S. Navy in the two years sincethe debacle at Pearl Harbor. Nearly all the old, slow bat-tleships which had lain shattered in the mud were back inaction, and now were joined by brand new, fast counter-parts, and the familiar old peacetime carriers were now sup-plemented by a steady flow of new fleet carriers and the

innovation of smaller escort carriers.This is the roll call of the ships which poured in their

fire before and during the landings:Battleships: Tennessee (BB 13), Colorado (BB 45),

Maryland (BB 46), Pennsylvania (BB 38), Idaho (BB 42),New Mexico (BB 40), and Mississippi (BB 41).

Heavy Cruisers: Louisville (CA 28), Indianapolis (CA35), Portland (CA 33), Minneapolis (CA 36), San Francis-co (CA 38), and New Orleans (CA 32).

Light Cruisers: Santa Fe (CL 60), Mobile (CL 63), andBiloxi (CL 80).

Carriers: Saratoga (CV 3), Princeton (CVL 23), Langley(CVL 28), Enterprise (CV 6), Yorktown (CV 10), BelleauWood (CVL 24), Intrepid (CV 11), Essex (CV 9), Cabot(CVL 27), Cowpens (CVL 25), Monterey (CVL 26), andBunker Hill (CV 17), plus six escort carriers.

Destroyers: The Kwajalein Atoll landings had 40 in directsupport.

tion. Being in the first scattered groupof tractors ashore, his men had nocontact yet with any other unit, sothe Japanese were on both sides ofthem — as well as in front. One glancetold him that they had landed on thewest side of Namur, 300 yards to theright of the spit of land that theircompany had for its objective. Thelong hours of studying maps and aer-ial photographs had proved theirworth. The lieutenant's account con-tinued:

My immediate task was to re-organize my platoon, for it wasscattered along the beach. Thenoise, smoke, and choking pallof burnt powder further com-plicated things. I turned to mysergeant guide, as we lay therein the sand, and asked himwhere his men were. He start-ed to point and right before myeyes his hand dissolved into abloody stump. He rolled over,screaming "Sailor! Sailor!" (Thiswas our code name for a corps-man. Bitter past experiences ofthe Marines had shown that theJaps delighted in calling "corps-man" themselves, and then

shooting anyone who showedhimself.) Soon our corpsmancrawled over, and started togive the sergeant first aid, so Iturned my attention to morepressing matters.

As yet the officer hadn't seen a sin-gle Japanese, even though he was inthe midst of them. But now one ofthe men next to him gasped, "They'rein there!;' pointing to a slit trenchfour feet away; the Marine raisedhimself up to a crouching positionand hurled his bayonetted rifle likea javelin into the slit trench. Therewas heavy enemy fire coming at theplatoon, but it was almost impossi-ble to determine its source. Ten feetin front of the Marines, however, theJapanese had dug a series of trenchesrunning the length of the beach. Tiedin with these trenches were scores ofmachine gun positions and foxholes,mutually supporting each other, allcamouflaged so that they were invisi-ble until a Marine was right on topof them. Accordingly, as soon as themen of the platoon would locate anemplacement, they would deluge itwith hand grenades, and then workon the next one. The lieutenant's next

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experience was almost his last:

At one point in this swirlingmaelstrom of action I waskneeling behind a palm treestump with my carbine on thedeck, as I fished for a fresh clipof bullets in my belt. Somethingmade me look up and there, notten feet away, was a Jap charg-ing me with his bayonet. Myhands were empty. I was help-less. The thought that "this is it"flashed through my brain! Thenshots chattered from all sides ofme. My men hit the running Japin a dozen places. He fell deadthree feet from me.Shortly after this, the squad with

the Marine officer was working onanother Japanese emplacement. Hepulled the pin from one of hisgrenades, let the handle fly off, andstarted counting to three. (Thegrenade's fuse was timed to give aman about five seconds before it ex-ploded.) In the middle of his count,a Japanese started shooting at himfrom the flank. Instinctively heturned to look for the enemy. Thensomething in his mind clicked, "Andwhat about that live grenade in your

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hand?" Without looking, he threw itand dove for the deck. It went off inmid-air and the fragments spatteredall around him .

Groups of Marines were formingnow under their own initiative, andbeginning to work their way slowlyinland. It was nearly impossible tokeep tight control of the platoon un-der these conditions, but the lieu-tenant was moving with them, tryingto get them coordinated as best hecould, when suddenly he dropped tothe ground, stunned. He recalled:

My first reaction was thatsomeone had hit my right cheekwith a baseball bat. With theshock, instinct made me covermy right eye with my hand.Then I realized I'd been hit.Searing my mind came thequestion, "When I take myhand away, will I be able tosee?" Slowly I lowered my armand opened my eye. I couldsee! Relief flooded through me.The wound was on my cheek-bone, just below the eye, and itwas bleeding profusely, so I laythere and broke out my first aidpacket. After shaking sulfapowder into the wound rather

awkwardly, I bandaged myright eye and cheekbone as bestI could. The bullet had gonecompletely through my helmetjust above my right ear, and lefta jagged, gaping hole in thesteel. My left eye was still func-tioning all right, however, so af-

ter a drink from my canteen, Istarted forward again.

A little later I encounteredanother lieutenant from ourcompany, Jack Powers. He hadbeen hit in the stomach, but wasstill fighting. Crouching behinda concrete wall, he showed mea pillbox about 25 feet awaythat was full of Japs who werestill very much alive and full offight. This strong point com-manded the whole area aroundus and was holding up our ad-vance very effectively. It wasabout 50 feet long and 15 feetwide, constructed of doublerows of sand-filled oil drums.Grabbing the nearest men, weexplained our plan of attackand went to work. With a cou-ple of automatic riflemen, Jackcovered the rear entrance withfire. Taking another man and ahigh-explosive bangalore torpe-do, I crawled around to thefront and observed for a fewminutes. Then we inched ourway up to the slit that served asa front entrance, and I threw a

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Department of Defense Photo (Army) 324729

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grenade in to keep down anylap who might be inclined topoke a rifle out in our faces.

Next we lighted the fuse onthe bangalore, jammed it insidethe pillbox, and scrambled forshelter. The fuse was very short,we knew, and we barely hadtumbled into a nearby shell holewhen we were overwhelmed bythe blast of the bangalore. Dirtsprayed all over us, billowingacrid smoke blinded us, and thenumbing concussion deafenedus. In a few moments we felt allright once more, and a glancetold us that we had closed thatentrance permanently. Weworked our way back to wherewe'd left Jack Powers, andfound that he'd managed to lo-cate a shaped charge of high ex-plosive in the meantime. Takingthis, we repeated our job — thistime blowing the rear entranceshut.

That took care of that pill-

box! Jack looked like he was inpretty bad shape, and I urgedhim to go get some medical at-tention, but he refused andmoved on alone to the next Jappillbox (where, I later learned,he was killed in a single-handedheroic attack for which he wasawarded the Medal of Honor).All over Namur there were simi-

lar examples of individual initiative.They were needed, for the island wascovered with dense jungle, concretefortifications, administrative build-ings, and barracks. It was difficult tomount an armored attack underthese conditions. Meanwhile, theJapanese used them to their fullest ex-tent for cover and concealment. Ene-my resistance and problems ofmaintaining unit contact slowed theMarines' advance.

Amidst all of this, a Marine demo-lition team threw a satchel charge ofhigh explosive into a Japanese bunkerwhich turned out to be crammedwith torpedo warheads. An enor-

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mous blast occurred. From off shore,an officer watched as "the whole ofNamur Island disappeared from sightin a tremendous brown cloud of dustand sand raised by the explosion."Overhead, a Marine artillery spotterfelt his plane catapult up 1,000 feetand exclaimed, "Great GodAlmighty! The whole damn islandhas blown up!" On the beach anotherofficer recalled that "trunks of palmtrees and chunks of concrete as largeas packing crates were flying throughthe air like match sticks . . . . Thehole left where the blockhouse stoodwas as large as a fair-sized swimmingpool." The column of smoke rose toover 1,000 feet in the air, and the ex-plosion caused the deaths of 20 Ma-rines and wounded 100 others in thearea.

Finally, at 1930, Colonel FranklinA. Hart, commander of the 24th Ma-rines ordered his men to dig in for thenight. The troops had come acrossa good portion of the island. Nowthey would hold the ground gained

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first class and his 44-year-old father,a corporal, had been together in thesame company back in California,but the son was hospitalized with aminor illness and then transferred toanother outfit. The father boardedhis ship prepared to sail for combatalone, but then his son was foundstowed away on it in order to be withhis father. The young man was taken

and get ready for the morrow. Onerifleman, Robert F. Graf, later wroteabout that time:

Throughout the night thefleet sent flares skyward, light-ing the islands as the flaresdrifted with the prevailingwind. Ghostly flickering lightwas cast from the flares as theydrifted along on theirparachutes. Laying in our fox-hole, my buddy and I werewatching, waiting, and strain-ing our ears trying to filter outthe known sounds.

Our foxhole in that sand wasabout six feet long by two feetin depth and just about wideenough to hold the two of us.Since I had eaten only my "D"ration since leaving the ship, Iwas hungry. "D" rations werebitter-sweet chocolate barsabout an inch and a half squareand were supposed to be full ofenergy. I removed a "K" rationfrom my pack and opened it."K" rations came in a box aboutthe size of a Cracker Jack boxand had a waterproof coating.These rations contained a smalltin of powdered coffee orlemonade, some round hardcandies, a package of threecigarettes, and a tin about thesize of a tuna-fish can contain-ing either cheese, hash, or eggswith a little bacon. We dined onour rations, drank water fromour canteens, and prepared tosettle in for the night .

After finishing chow weelected to take two-hourwatches, one on guard while theother slept. Also we made surewe knew where our buddies'foxholes were, both on the leftand right of us. Thus we wereset up so that anyone to ourfront would be an enemy. Ourfirst night in combat hadstarted.

Before dawn the Japanese mount-ed a determined counterattack whichwas finally repulsed. Nevertheless, itwas a tragic night for one particularfamily. A 19-year-old Marine private

off and was placed under arrest. Hismother, however, telephoned theCommandant's office in Washingtonand told the story of her son's effortto be together with her husband. Thecharges were dropped and the twowere reunited for the trip to the Mar-shalls. The son was killed that firstnight on Namur. The father went onfighting — alone.

Early on the afternoon of the nextday, 2 February, D plus 2, the 24thMarines finished its conquest ofNamur, and the island was declared"secured." In the final moments ofcombat, however, Lieutenant ColonelAquilla J. Dyess, commander of the1st Battalion, was standing to directthe last attack of his men. A burstof machine gun fire riddled his body,

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 70694

Landing Vehicles, Tracked (LVTs) equipped with rocket launchers new to the 4thMarine Division, churn towards the assault beaches of Roi-Namur on D-Plus One.

Troops of the 24th Marines near the beach on Namur, thankful for having madeit safely ashore, are now awaiting the inevitable word to resume the attack.

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 70209

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tack from the sea rather thanthe lagoon shore. Two heavyhits had been made on theblockhouse, one apparently by14-inch or 16-inch shells andthe other by an aerial bomb.Nevertheless, the position hadnot been demolished .

[The battalion commander,Lieutenant Colonel Edward J.Dillon] then ordered CompanyC to take the blockhouse. Thecompany commander first sentforward a 75mm half track,which fired five rounds againstthe steel door. At this point ademolition squad came up, and

and he became the most seniorofficer to die in the battle. For his su-perb leadership under fire he wasawarded a posthumous Medal ofHonor.

Across the sand spit, on Roi, it hadbeen a different story. This island wasnearly bare, for it was mostly co-vered by the airfield runways. Whenthe 23d Marines hit the beaches onD plus 1, the fierceness of the pre-landing bombardment prevented theJapanese defenders from mounting acoordinated defense. Small groups ofMarine riflemen joined their regi-ment's attached tanks in a race acrossto the far side of the island. Thischarging style caused considerableconfusion as to who was where. Re-organized into more coherent units,the men made a final orderly driveto finish the job.

In spite of the rapid progress onRoi, there were still some major ene-my strongpoints which had to bedealt with. An after-action report ofthe 2d Battalion described one exam-ple of this perilous work in matter offact terms:

[There] was a blockhouse

constructed of reinforced con-crete approximately three feetthick. It had three gunports,one each facing north, east, andwest, another indication of theenemy's mistaken assumptionthat the Americans would at-

its commander volunteered toknock out the position with ex-plosives. While the halftrackcontinued to fire, infantry pla-toons moved up on each flankof the installation. The demo-lition squad placed charges atthe ports and pushed bangaloretorpedoes through a shell holein the roof. .

"Cease fire" was then ordered,and after hand-grenades werethrown inside the door, half asquad of infantry went into in-

Marine Corps Art Collection

A watercolor by combat artist LtCol Donald L. Dickson depicts members of aMarine fire team in a close-in attack on a Japanese defensive position on Namur.

Members of the 23d Marines on Roi turn to look in astonishment at the black plumeof the giant explosion which took many lives in the 24th Marines on Namur.

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 71921

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vestigate. Unfortunately, the en-gineers of the demolition squadhad not got the word to ceasefire, and had placed a shapedcharge at one of the ports whilethe infantry was still inside.Luckily, no one was hurt, butas the company commanderreported, "a very undignifiedand hurried exit was made byall concerned:' Inside were threeheavy machine guns, a quanti-ty of ammunition, and the bod-ies of three Japanese.Many Japanese had to be flushed

out of or blown up in the airfield'sdrainage ditches and culverts, but by1800 that day, D plus 1, Roi had beensecured. ("Secured" seemed a some-what flexible term when the firstservice of Mass, held the next day,was interrupted by Japanese shots.)By 6 February, however, the groundelements of a Marine aircraft wingwere ensconced at the airfield,preparing for the arrival of theirplanes in five more days. For the en-tire remainder of the war these planespounded the by-passed atolls withsuch power that the Japanese onthem were eliminated from any fur-ther role in the war. (There was one

surprise Japanese air raid on Roi,staged from the Mariana Islands, on12 February. This caused a numberof casualties and major damage tomaterial.)

The repair of the airfield and itsquick return to action was a tributeto the skills of both the 20th Marines,an engineer regiment, and the 109thNaval Construction Battalion (Sea-bees). This achievement was onemore illustration of the vital role

played by a dizzying list of units thatsupported the assault rifle battalions.Besides the vast armada of navalplanes, ships, and landing craft, therewere Navy chaplains and corpsmen(two specialties which are alwaysNavy). In addition to the Marine air,artillery, and engineer units, therewere the tanks, heavy weapons, mo-tor transport, quartermaster, signals,and headquarters supporting units.An amphibious operation, to be suc-

One of the very few Japanese finally persuaded to surrenderin the Roi-Namur operation, this stripped-down soldier is

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 70241well covered by suspicious Marine riflemen as he leaves hishiding place in a massive but shell-shattered blockhouse.

Marine tanks and infantry worked effectively together when the terrain permitted.Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 70203

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cessful, must be a finely tuned, high-ly trained juggernaut that depends onall its parts working smoothlytogether and this was clearly demon-strated in the Marshalls.

The conquest of Roi-Namur hadbeen a relatively easy operationwhen compared to some of the otherMarine campaigns in the Pacific. (AtTarawa, for example, more than3,300 men had been killed or wound-ed in 76 hours.) The 4th Division'svictory came at a cost of 313 Marinesand corpsmen killed and 502 wound-ed. By contrast, the defeated Japanesegarrison numbered an estimated3,563—with all but a handful ofthem now dead.

It was on this junket that themen of the 25th got to know theMarshall Island natives, for itwas these Marines who freedthem from Japanese domina-tion. On many islets, bivouack-ing overnight, the natives andMarines got together and sanghymns; the Marshall Islandershad been Christianized manyyears before, and missionarieshad taught them such songs as"Onward Christian Soldiers." Krations and cigarettes also madea big hit with them. And morethan one Marine sentry, walk-

ing post in front of a nativecamp, took up the islander'sdress and wore only a loincloth—usually a towel from aLos Angeles hotel.

The final task that remained forthe division was a miserable one. Roiand Namur were littered with deadJapanese; the stench was overpower-ing as their bodies putrefied in theblazing tropical sun. All hands,officers and enlisted, were put towork day and night on burial details."Hey, I just finished two days of bru-tal combat! We don't have any glovesor equipment for this!"—"Too bad, juststart doing it anyway!" Health con-ditions were so bad that 1,500 menin the division were suffering from'dysentery when the troops finally re-boarded transports for the journeyback to their rear base at Maui in theHawaiian Islands.

13

In accordance with the overallcampaign plan for the seizure of theMarshall Islands, the Army's attackon Kwajalein Island at the south endof the atoll began in exact synchroni-zation with the Marine assault in thenorth. The same softening-up process

This watercolor by LtCol Donald L. Dickson, USMCR, portrays Marines revivingthemselves and taking it easy after the fighting near blockhouse skeleton.

Two more tasks remained for the4th Division; the first was moppingup the rest of the islets in the north-ern two-thirds of the atoll. The 25thMarines, which had supported theattacks of the 23d and 24th, took offon a series of island-hopping trips onboard their LVTs. The regimentchecked out more of the exoticallynamed islets such as Boggerlapp,Marsugalt, Gegibu, Oniotto, andEru. The 25th found no resistanceand by D plus 7 it had covered all 50of the islets that were its objectives.This assignment was a total changefrom what the regiment had ex-perienced around Roi-Namur. Onewriter, Carl W. Proehl, described theexpedition this way:The once heavily overgrown terrain of Namur was almost completely denud-ed at the end of the battle by the combination of naval gunfire and bombing.

National Archives Photo 127-N-72407

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was used on D-day, 31 January, witha large force of warships and planespouring on a blanket of high explo-sive. The Navy, for instance, fired7,000 shells. Because of the locationof the islets immediately surround-ing its main objective, the 7th Infan-try Division was able to follow a planidentical to the Marines, with the17th Infantry Regiment clearing theway for placement of close-by sup-porting artillery. The 145th Field Ar-tillery Battalion then proceeded toinundate the target with 28,000rounds.

Then, on D plus 1, the riflemen ofthe 32d and 184th Infantry Regi-ments landed on Kwajalein Island it-self. Because of previous jointrehearsals held in Hawaii the am-tracs carried in the assault troopswith smoothness and efficiency. Inaddition, Major General Charles H.Corlett, the division commander,had an assemblage of DUKWs (am-phibious trucks always called"ducks") available, and it provedvaluable in ferrying priority suppliesashore to the fighting men.

Once ashore, the assault unitsfound widespread devastation fromthe preinvasion bombing and shell-ing. Smashed seawalls, uprootedtrees, demolished buildings, scarredpillboxes were everywhere. Dug inamidst all this debris, the Japanesefought resolutely. This kind of closecombat usually forced the issue down

to the individual level. An Armyofficer, Lieutenant Colonel S. L. A.Marshall, who later interviewed thetroops, gave this account of how theydealt with the deadly Japanese"spider holes" they encountered:

The holes were everywhere.Each one had to be searchedfrom close up. Every spot wherea man might be hiding had tobe stabbed out. So greatly wasthe beach littered with brokenfoliage that it was like lookingthrough a haystack for a fewpoisoned needles .

The fire which cut the mendown came from the spiderholes farther up the line. It wasthe kind of bitter going thatmade it necessary for the juniorleaders to prod their men cons-tantly. The leader of the 3dSquad had been trying to get hismen forward against the fire.Private First Class John Treagergot up, rushed forward aboutten yards, hit the dirt, fired afew shots with his BAR [Brown-ing Automatic Rifle] and crum-pled with a bullet in his head.

Somewhat farther along, abayonet was seen sticking upthrough a patch of fronds. TheJap crouched within it hadn't

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 71920

Using palm fronds for concealment, two Marines carefully scout out the terrainahead of them on Roi in a fire fight with the Japanese forward of their position.

A rifleman of the 23d Marines moves slowly past a Japanese airplane and ahangar destroyed on Roi by naval gunfire. The rifle slung over his shoulder andthe adjacent Marine carrying supplies indicate that combat is no longer imminent.

National Archives Photo 127-GW-1253-70345

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