September 2019 – Fix Bayonets!

The Mascot’s Suicide

Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina is a spit-n-polish duty station. Thousands of visitors pass through the main gate at PISC every year. They are mostly the families of newly minted U. S. Marines who make the journey to see their sons and daughters graduate from recruit training (also known as boot camp) [1]. There is a sign at the entrance to the base that reads, “We Marines do two things really well: we win battles, and we make Marines.”

PISC 001 The term “spit-n-polish” means that the base grounds and its many buildings and facilities are maintained in top-notch condition. Neither do Marine officers and NCOs allow any slouching, hand-warming, spitting, chewing gum, ear buds, umbrellas, or hand holding with the ladies while in uniform. The island is well guarded, and all permanent personnel are constantly on the lookout for some crybaby who thinks that recruit training is too tough and attempts to swim off the island in shark, barracuda, and snake infested waters. Consequently, after hours, in addition to the military police, each battalion has a duty officer, usually in the grade of First Lieutenant, a duty staff noncommissioned officer, and a duty clerk. The Recruit Training Regiment also employs a duty officer —the regimental commander’s representative after duty hours, usually in the grade of Captain, and a staff NCO and a clerk assistant.their

While the likelihood of terrorists or die-hard Japanese soldiers attacking MCRD is remote, Marine Corps units are 24/7 operations. Battalion and regimental duty officers have their “special orders,” which occasionally cause them to leave their post and make periodic inspection tours through recruit training area. When these officers are making their rounds, the staff duty NCO takes charge and listens for the phone to ring. If it does, it usually means that something is going on that requires his or her immediate attention.

Now, what follows may be a Marine Corps sea story; I have no personal knowledge of it. And, for clarification, the only difference between a Marine Corps sea story and a fairy tale is in the telling of it. Fairy tales begin with “Once upon a time.” Sea stories begin with, “Now this ain’t no shit.”

USMC Bulldog One late afternoon, the regimental duty officer, who was a very fine young captain, executed his first order of business upon assuming his post at 1600. He directed the duty clerk to take the regimental mascot, a bulldog named Smedley, outside to the rear of the headquarters building. Smedley led a charmed life. He had a spiffy doghouse with his name stenciled on it, it was painted in the Marine Corps’ official colors, and it had a fine roof. Taking the dog out was an everyday occurrence, needed of course to keep the animal from laying land mines all over the regimental headquarters. Bulldogs are not known for their self-discipline. The regimental commander liked his dog, but he didn’t like having to clean up after him.

According to this story, the Regimental Duty Officer’s (RDO) special instructions required that while out of doors, Smedley was to be fed, watered, and then brought back inside the headquarters building at or about 2200 hours, which is the official hour of Taps. Why this was necessary when the dog had his own house is a mystery. However, at about 2130, the RDO received a telephone call from one of the battalions on a matter that demanded his attention, and he shortly departed his post to attend to the problem, whatever it was. Before leaving the command post, the RDO reminded his staff duty NCO bring Smedley in from outside at 2200 hours.

The issue that required the RDO to leave his post turned out to be a serious one, and the captain was busy for several hours. No one had given much thought about the dog until somewhere between midnight and 0100 hours. Sitting at his desk, the Captain turned to the NCO and said, “Damn, we forgot to bring the dog in!” The duty clerk was sent to get the regimental mascot. After a few minutes, the corporal came back inside the building and said that he couldn’t find Smedley. Shit. Breaking out a flashlight, the Captain his staff NCO went outside to look for the dog. Eventually, they found Smedley — dead.

The animal had a history of chasing after things —typical of bulldogs, who in addition to lacking self-discipline, aren’t very bright. What apparently happened was that the dog jumped up on top of his doghouse, and while seated there, spotted a car traveling on an adjacent road. Smedley leaped from his doghouse, over a nearby chain-link fence, and promptly ran out of chain. Cause of death, strangulation.

Promptly at 0800 the next morning, the RDO made a report of his watch to the regimental executive officer (XO). The XO was not pleased, of course, but the regimental commander was livid. By 0815 the captain imagined that he’d seen his last promotion. In time, the captain’s predicament would take a turn for the worse. The regimental commander directed his XO to press charges against the captain for negligence of duty. With charges preferred, the captain had but two choices: he could either accept regimental nonjudicial punishment, or he could demand a court-martial. After consulting with a civilian attorney in the nearby town of Beaufort, the Captain demanded a court-martial.

After evaluating all the facts surrounding Smedley’s death, along with those of the “incident” that called the RDO away from his usual post, the civilian attorney made an appointment with the regimental commander to see if he could persuade the colonel to drop the charges. The CO could not be persuaded, and the matter progressed to scheduling a Special Court-martial. Before the court convened, however, the civilian attorney (a southern gentleman) made another appointment with the regimental commander.

“Colonel,” said the civilian attorney, “my purpose in requesting this meeting is to again ask that you reconsider your actions this case. I am asking once more that you drop all charges against my client.”

“Dropping the charges is off the table in this discussion, sir,” said the Colonel.

“Well, now Colonel,” continued the attorney, “before you make a hasty decision, let me acquaint you with the facts of this case, as I intend to present them to the court and to the press.”

“The press?” asked the Colonel.

“Indeed, suh. This is a very stringent action you’ve taken against a very fine Marine Corps officer, and I intend to defend him as best I can, including, as I said, in the court of public opinion.”

“Well, you’re entitled to do as you see fit,” said the Colonel, “but press involvement is not going to persuade me in this matter.”

“That is as I suspected, Colonel,” said the attorney. “But let me just take a moment of your time, as I said, to acquaint you with the facts of this case —as I intend to present them. We believe, and I shall argue this strenuously, that the dog . . . his name was Smedley?”

“Yes, that’s right,” the Colonel answered.

“That’s an odd name for a dog, don’t you think?”

“It’s a tradition,” said the colonel.

“Well, in any case, we believe that Smedley, being unhappy here at the regiment, and being unable to communicate that melancholy to you, began exhibiting a pattern of disturbing behavior. Chasing automobiles, loose bowels … things of that sort. We believe that in his final days, Smedley was a very unhappy mascot, not of sound mind, and possibly, clinically depressed. I will argue that he committed suicide by throwing himself over the fence, thereby hanging himself to death.”

“What?” said the Colonel. “That is preposterous!”

“Well, preposterous as it may sound, that is what we intend to argue before the court. I have witnesses that will attest to the dog’s aberrant behavior. And as I said, suh, the press is going to love this story. I daresay people will be talking about this case up and down the entire East Coast of these United States. And, uh, I do believe your Marine headquarters is located on the east coast, isn’t it suh?”

The charges filed against the captain were dropped that very day.

Endnote:

[1] There are two recruit training centers: Parris Island, South Carolina and San Diego, California.

Remembering the Ladies

“I long to hear that you have declared an independency. And by the way, in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands. Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.”

—Abigail Adamsin a letter to her husband John, 31 March 1776.

Johnson OM 001 — Opha May Johnson (1878-1955)

Opha May Jacob was born on 4 May 1878 in Kokomo, Indiana. She graduated from the shorthand and typewriting department of Wood’s Commercial College in Washington, D. C. at the age of 17. In 1898, she married a gentleman named Victor H. Johnson. Victor was the musical director at the Lafayette Square Opera House and Opha worked as a civil servant for the Interstate Commerce Commission.

And then, World War I came along. Women have always been involved during times of war. For centuries, women followed armies—many of whom were the wives of soldiers who provided indispensable services to their men, such as cooking, laundry, and nursing wounds. World War I involved women, too … albeit in a different way than at any previous time. Thousands of women in the United States formed or joined organizations that worked to bring relief to the war-torn countries in Europe even before America’s official entry into the war in April 1917. American women weren’t alone in this effort; thousands of women in the United Kingdom followed a similar path —the difference being that Great Britain had been engaged in World War I from its beginning.

After the United States entered World War I, women continued to join the war time organizations and expand the war effort. They were highly organized groups, much like the military, and this helped women to gain respect from their fellow citizens and have their patriotic endeavors recognized and respected. The key difference between the efforts of women during World War I and previous wars was the class of women involved. Typically, women who followed the armies in earlier times were working-class women, but during World War I, women from all classes of society served in many different capacities. So-called upper-class women were primary founders of war time organizations because they could afford to devote so much of their time (and money) to these efforts. Middle and lower-class ladies were more likely to serve as nurses, telephone operators, and office clerks. And for the first time in American history, women from every part of the social spectrum stepped up to serve in the military.

The first women to enlist in the United States Marine Corps on 13 August 1918 was Opha May Johnson. She became the first woman Marine because when the recruiting doors were opened to enlist women for the first time, Opha Johnson was standing first in line —the first among 300 women accepted for enlistment in the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve. Given her background as a civil servant, Private Johnson’s first duty was clerical at Headquarters Marine Corps. Within one month, Johnson was promoted to sergeant and therefore became the Marine Corps’ first female sergeant and the highest-ranking woman in the Marine Corps.

Streeter RC 001 At the end of World War I, women were discharged from the services as part of general demobilization. Opha May Johnson remained at Headquarters Marine Corps as a civil service clerk until her retirement from in 1943. She was still working at Headquarters Marine Corps in 1943 when the Marine Corps reinstituted the Women’s Reserve for World War II service. At the time of her enlistment in 1918, Opha May Johnson was 40 years old. In 1943, the Marine Corps appointed its first Director of the Women Reserve, a lady named Ruth Cheney Streeter (shown right). At the time of Streeter’s appointment as a reserve major, she was 48-years old. In those days, the age of the applicant would not have affected enlistment or appointment eligibility because, with few exceptions, women did not perform their duties at sea or foreign shore.

As Abigail Adams admonished her now-famous husband, we should always remember the ladies and give them due credit for their patriotism and service to the United States of America. Women have been an integral part of the United States Marine Corps since 1948 when the Women’s Armed Services Integration Act gave them permanent status in the regular and reserve forces. During World War II, twenty-thousand women served as Marines in more than 225 occupational specialties. Eighty-five percent of the enlisted jobs at Headquarters Marine Corps in World War II were filled by women; two-thirds of the permanent personnel assigned to Marine Corps posts and stations in the United States were women Marines.

Womens Reserve USMC The first woman Marine to serve in a combat zone was Master Sergeant Barbara Dulinsky, who served on the MACV Staff in Saigon, Vietnam in 1967 [1]. Since then, women Marines have taken on new roles, from combat aviators [2] to rifleman. In Afghanistan and Iraq, women Marine officers commanded combat service support units in combat zones and served on the staffs of forward deployed headquarters. By every account, these women acquitted themselves very well. Still, the issue of women serving in the combat arms, while authorized and directed by the Department of Defense, remains a contentious issue. Prominent women Marines have spoken out about this, with more than a few claiming that while women do perform well in the combat environment, such duties have a deleterious effect on their physical health —more so than men— and that it is therefore unnecessary to employ women in the combat arms in order to maintain a high state of readiness in combat units and organizations.

Endnotes:

[1] American women have served on the front line of combat since the Revolutionary War, primarily as nurses, medics, and ambulance drivers, and provisioners. The US Army Nurse Corps was established in 1901, and the Navy Nurse Corps was created in 1908. Prohibitions of women serving aboard navy ships (excluding hospital ships) resulted in most Navy nurses serving in field hospitals ashore and not within a battle area; Army nurses similarly served in field medical hospitals on foreign shore.

[2] See also: Wings of honor.

7th Motor Transport Battalion

7thMTBn 002 It isn’t just about driving and maintaining rolling stock. It’s about providing sustainable combat service support to front line troops; without the motor transportation community, there would be no way to push forward to the battle area much-needed combat supplies: bullets, beans, and band-aids. Without a steady flow of logistics, there can be no success on the battlefield. Motor transport is a tough job; there’s a lot to know about moving men and equipment forward under all weather conditions and terrain features. It’s also dangerous work, because motor transport units are primary targets of enemy air and ground forces. If an enemy can interrupt the supply chain, really bad things start to happen. It is for this reason that Marines assigned to motor transport units are, in fact, combat Marines.

The Marine Corps activated the 7th Motor Transport Battalion (now known as the 1st Transportation Battalion) to support the 1st Marine Division during the Korean War. Its Korean War service began in October 1950 and lasted through December 1953.

Twelve years later, in May 1965, forward elements of the 7th Motor Transport Battalion began their service in the Vietnam War. Company A (Reinforced) arrived in Indochina as an attachment to the 7th Regimental Landing Team (RLT-7). By July of that year, the 7th Motor Transport Battalion consisted (on paper) of H&S Company (-), Company B, Company C, and Company D. The battalion commander was Major Louis A. Bonin[1].

Almost immediately after arriving in Vietnam, ninety percent of the personnel assigned to the 7th Motor Transport Battalion in California received orders moving them over to the 1st Motor Transport Battalion, which was at that time assigned to Chu Lai. The reason for this shift of personnel was combat necessity —but along with this decision, 7th Motors became ineffective as a combat service support organization pending the arrival of newly graduated Marines from recruit training and basic motor transportation schools (in the United States) and pending the arrival of additional equipment. Combat operations were intense during this period —so much so, in fact, that much needed battalion-level (second echelon) maintenance simply wasn’t performed because Company A was detached from the battalion. This resulted in a significant reduction in motor transport operational capability. By the time these vehicles received their much-needed attention, vehicle readiness was around 50%. As an example of why proper vehicle maintenance was (and is) important:

In May 1966, Colonel Bonin and his Marines executed 3,744 combat support missions involving 22 tactical convoys over 129,961 miles. During this month, there were eight separate enemy attacks that involved the detonation of enemy mines, incoming mortars and small arms fire, and on the 24th of that month, a Viet Cong sympathizer tossed a poisonous snake into the bed of one of the trucks. The Marines riding in the bed of that truck were not happy campers. Moreover, the battalion lifted 24,061 tons of supplies on 1,623 pallets and a total of 33,923 combat personnel supporting forward units. The battalion served in Vietnam for five years; to appreciate their service, multiply the foregoing statistics by a factor of sixty.

7thMTBn Convoy RVN — Marine combat convoy operators from 7thMTBn, located in Quang Tri, prepare for a run over the dangerous Hai Van Mountain Pass into Da Nang Vietnam. Trucks shown are M52 tractors with semitrailers and M54 5-ton cargo vehicles.

In effect, the Marines of 7th Motor Transport Battalion were constantly on the road, constantly exposed to enemy action, and constantly involved in such programs as Medical Civil Action (MEDCAP). When the Marines weren’t moving personnel or equipment, or seeing to the needs of local Vietnamese, they were cleaning their weapons and getting a few hours rest. After weeks of sustained operations, hardly anyone knew what day it was. See also: Personal Memoir by Corporal Chuck McCarroll, USMC.

In the infantry, Marines train to fight. In the combat service support arena, Marines perform real-world support on an ongoing basis. Their daily missions in times of peace are the same as those performed in actual combat, less people shooting at them, of course. And, given the deployment and training schedules prevalent in the Marine Corps since the end of the Vietnam War, the pace is fast and furious. Marines who drive medium to heavy-lift vehicles must know how to complete their combat service support missions. Supplies, materials, and men must always get through —and they do, in times of peace and in times of war. In order to accomplish these things, the vehicles must be maintained —and they are. It’s a tough job —made tougher when higher headquarters assigns unusual tasks.

1988 was a busy year. Long reduced to three companies (H&S Company, Truck Company, and Transport Company), the Marines of 7th Motor Transport Battalion were “turning and burning.” Beyond their mission to support the two Marine Expeditionary Units (MEUs), additional requirements reduced manpower levels to a point where Combat Service Support Elements (CSSEs) could barely complete their missions. Worse, personnel shortages increased the likelihood of serious mishaps. Operating heavy equipment is dangerous work. What additional taskings? Under mandated fleet assistance programs, motor transport companies experienced personnel reductions by as much as 20% in order to satisfy the demands of host commands … that is, sending combat Marines to base organizations to staff “special services” billets. It was a waste of well-trained and much-needed operators/mechanics, particularly when the host commander assigned these Marines to rock-painting details.

This was the situation at 7th Motor Transport Battalion in 1988. As already stated, personnel shortages make dangerous work even more so. Marines would return to the battalion after one six-month MEU deployment and begin spooling up for a second.

Between May and August 1988, 250-forest fires broke out within the Yellowstone National Forest —seven of these caused 95% of the destruction. At the end of June, the National Park Service and other federal agencies had mobilized all available personnel. It wasn’t enough … the fires continued to expand. Dry storms brought howling winds and lightening, but no rain. On 20 August —dubbed Black Saturday— a single wildfire consumed more than 150,000. Ash from the fire drifted as far as Billings, Montana —60 miles northeast of Yellowstone. More land went to flames on this one day than in all the years since the creation of Yellowstone National Park. Among the worst were the Snake River Complex and Shoshone fires.

Yellowstone wasn’t the Western United States’ only fire. In that year, officials reported more than 72,000 fires. Firefighters and equipment were stretched to the limit. To help fight the fire, US military personnel were tasked to provide support to the front-line firefighters. Before it was over, more than 25,000 personnel participated in efforts to quell these fires. Crews worked for two or three weeks, send home to rest, and returned for another tour on the line. The task involved digging trenches, watering down buildings, clearing undergrowth near structures, and installing water pumps. The front line extended more than 655 miles. Hundreds of men worked on engine crews and bulldozing equipment; much of their efforts involved protecting existing structures. Men received injuries requiring medical treatment for broken bones, skin burns, and lung damage due to noxious fumes. One firefighter and one pilot died in an incident outside the wildfire area.

USMC 5-ton truck 7th Motor Transport Battalion received its warning order: within 48 hours, provide a detachment of Marines to support to the national firefighting force. The Battalion Commander, LtCol William C. Curtis[2], tasked Transport Company with the mission, Captain Greg Dunlap, commanding. Within 24-hours, Dunlap had mobilized 50 trucks and 175 Marines. Operational control of Transport Company passed to the 7th Engineer Battalion, placed in overall command of the Combat Service Support Element mission.

Captain Dunlap and his Marines Departed Norton Air Force Base aboard C-5 aircraft. The combat service support element landed at the Wester Yellowstone airstrip, which at the time was serving as the Federal and State Firefighting headquarters and where, ultimately, the 7th Engineer Battalion established its command post. Upon arrival, Dunlap assigned one transport platoon with five-ton trucks in direct support of a Marine infantry battalion further inside the park.

The Marine Corps mission was to relieve civilian firefighters by following up on the fire-line and extinguishing any smoldering areas. Transport Company provided the lift for infantry Marines to operationally sensitive areas inside Yellowstone. The overall commander of the U. S. Forest Service assigned daily missions to the Marines via the 7th Engineer Battalion command element, who in turn passed them on for execution to Captain Dunlap.

While serving in Yellowstone, 7th Motor Transport Battalion personnel dined on field rations (officially referred to as Meals, Ready to Eat[3]) and meals provided by US Forest Service caterers. West Yellowstone Base Camp personnel could walk to the small town of West Yellowstone. Local restaurant owners offered free chow to firefighters and military personnel; few of Dunlap’s Marines partook of the freebies because of the financial impact on local citizens. Dunlap’s Marines didn’t see any reason to make it more complicated for them than it already was. Local hotel owners offered billeting to the Marines, but they preferred to live in tents. The Forest Service provided showering facilities.

Captain Dunlap’s company returned to Camp Pendleton, California two weeks later. The citizens of West Yellowstone loved “their” Marines and invited them to march in their town parade on the Fourth of July, an invitation that Captain Dunlap accepted. Town elders also invited the Marines to attend the local high school prom … an invitation that the Marines did not accept.

Marines of the 7th Motor Transport Battalion excelled in this mission. It’s what these Marines have always done since the beginning of the Korean War. It’s a tough, thankless job. In 1988, the Marines of 7th Motor Transport Battalion were ready, their equipment was ready, their attitudes were positive, and they excelled in the completion of their mission. Seventh-motors Marines shined in the face of unusual adversity, and in doing so, they brought great credit upon themselves, the Marine Corps, and the United States Naval Service. They continue to do this today as the 1st Transportation Battalion.

It was my privilege to serve alongside the Marines of 7th Motor Transport Battalion from June 1987 to June 1989.

Endnotes:

[1] Promoted to lieutenant colonel on 12 May 1966. I served under Colonel Bonin while a member of the 3rdMarDiv staff in 1972.

[2] Lieutenant Colonel Curtis retired from active duty in 1991, completing more than 34 years of continuous honorable service. He has written several essays for this blog beginning with Combined Action Platoon, Part I.

[3] Also referred to as meals rejected by Ethiopians.

Guadalcanal: First to Fight —Part IV

Between 5-9 November, the Tokyo Express delivered additional soldiers from the 38th Infantry Division, including most of the 228th Infantry Regiment. General Hyakutake send these fresh men to reinforce the IJA perimeter at Point Cruz and Matanikau. Allied and Japanese forces continued to face one another along a line west of Point Cruz for the next six weeks.

After their defeat at the Battle for Henderson Field, IJA headquarters decided to make yet another attempt to oust the Americans from Lunga Point. Hyakutake needed additional troops, however. Admiral Yamamoto was asked to assist the Army (again) to deliver reinforcements and provide support for the next offensive. Yamamoto agreed to provide 11 large transport ships to carry the remaining 7,000 troops from the 38th Infantry Division, their ammunition, food, and heavy equipment from Rabaul to Guadalcanal. He also agreed to provide a warship support force that included two battleships equipped with special fragmentation shells. The plan called for the IJN to bombard Henderson Field on the night of 12–13 November and destroy it and any aircraft stationed there. This would ensure that the slow transports reached Guadalcanal and unload safely the next day. The warship force commander was Vice Admiral Hiroaki Abe.

However, in early November, Allied intelligence learned about these Japanese ambitions and responded by sending Task Force 67 to Guadalcanal on 11 November. Under the command of Admiral Turner, the task force included much-needed Marine replacements, two US Army battalions, ammunition, and food stores. Two task groups provided protection for Turner’s ships, one commanded by Rear Admiral Daniel J. Callaghan, and the other commended by Rear Admiral Norman Scott. Japanese aircraft attacked Task Force 67 on 11-12 November, but Turner was able to unload most ships without incurring any serious damage.

American reconnaissance planes spotted the approach of Admiral Abe’s bombardment force and passed a warning to the Allied command, prompting Turner to detach all usable combat ships under Callaghan to protect the troops ashore from Japanese naval attack and ordered his supply ships at Guadalcanal to depart before dusk on 12 November. Callaghan’s force included two heavy cruisers, three light cruisers, and eight destroyers. At around 0130 on 13 November, Admiral Callaghan intercepted Abe’s bombardment group between Guadalcanal and Savo Island. In addition to his two battleships, Admiral Abe commanded one light cruiser and 11 destroyers. In the blackness of night, the two forces intermingled before opening fire at close quarters. Admiral Abe sank or seriously damaged all but two of Callaghan’s ships. Rear Admirals Callaghan and Scott both died in the melee. The Americans sank two Japanese destroyers; the Battleship Hiei and a destroyer were heavily damaged. Despite this American defeat, Abe ordered his warships to retire without bombarding Henderson Field. After repeated attacks by the CAF, Hiei went under later in the day. Admiral Abe’s failure to neutralize Henderson Field prompted Admiral Yamamoto to order the Japanese transport convoy to wait another day before heading toward Guadalcanal; he ordered Admiral Nobutake Kondo to assemble another bombardment group and attack Henderson Field on 15 November 1942.

Meanwhile, at 0200 on 14 November, a cruiser and destroyer force under Admiral Gunichi Mikawa conducted an unopposed naval bombardment of Henderson Field. The attack did cause some damage but failed to impede the operational capability of the airfield or its aircraft. Trusting that Mikawa’s force destroyed or heavily damaged Henderson Field, Tanaka’s transports began their run down the slot toward Guadalcanal. Throughout the day on 14 November, aircraft from Henderson Field and USS Enterprise attacked Japanese shipping, sending one Japanese heavy cruiser and seven transports to Iron bottom Sound. Japanese destroyers rescued most of the troops and returned them to the Shortland Islands. After dark, Tanaka and his remaining four transports continued toward Guadalcanal. Admiral Kondo’s force approached Lunga Point.

Admiral Halsey, who was now low on undamaged ships, detached two battleships and four destroyers from the Enterprise Battle Group. USS Washington and USS South Dakota, under the command of Rear Admiral Willis A. Lee, reached Guadalcanal and Savo Island prior to midnight on 14 November —an hour or so before Admiral Kondo’s task group arrived to execute his mission. Admiral Kondo commanded the battleship Kirishima, two heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and nine destroyers. Shortly after hostile contact, Lee lost three destroyers —a fourth heavily damaged. As Kondo turned his attention to USS South Dakota, USS Washington opened fire on the Kirishima,repeatedly smashing her with main and secondary batteries. Kirishima’s fate was thus sealed. Kondo retired without bombarding Henderson Field.

Tanaka’s four transports beached themselves near Tassafaronga at 0400 and quickly began unloading men and material. Two hours later, Allied aircraft and artillery began firing on the transports, destroying all four ships and most of their supplies. Between 2-3,000 Japanese soldiers made it safely to shore, but their numbers were still inadequate to the planned offensive, prompting the Japanese IJA command to suspend it.

Lieutenant General Hitoshi Imamura assumed command of the newly formed Eighth Area Army at Rabaul on 26 November 1942. In this capacity, he was responsible for operations in the Solomon Islands and in New Guinea. Initially, General Imamura prioritized the seizure of Henderson Field and Guadalcanal, but the Allied offensive in New Guinea prompted him to rethink his urgencies. New Guinea posed a greater threat to Rabaul than did Guadalcanal.

Japan’s greatest difficulty was resupplying its widely dispersed IJA/IJN force. The situation among Japanese forces on Guadalcanal was dire; these men were starving to death; they were dying of diseases. Pushed to the point of using submarines to resupply Hyakutake’s force, this effort was grossly inadequate. A separate attempt to establish bases in the central Solomons to facilitate barge convoys to Guadalcanal also failed due to destructive allied air power. On the very day Imamura assumed command in Rabaul, General Hyakutake notified him that the 17th Army was facing a food crisis: front line units were entirely out of food and rear-echelon troops were on one-third rations. The only solution to this problem was returning to the employment of destroyers for resupply missions —with an interesting twist.

The Japanese devised a plan to help reduce the exposure of destroyers delivering supplies to Guadalcanal. They cleaned and filled large oil drums with medical supplies and food, leaving enough air space to provide buoyancy, and then strung them all together linearly with rope. As Japanese destroyers arrived at Guadalcanal, they would make a sharp turn and the cut-loose the drums. Boat crews from shore could then retrieve the buoyed end of a rope and return it to the beach, where the soldiers could haul in the supplies. Responsibility for implementing this plan fell to Admiral Tanaka (commanding the Tokyo Express). On the night of 30 November, Tanaka loaded six destroyers with between 200 and 240 supply drums each and sent them down the slot to Guadalcanal.

Recall, however, that the Americans were reading the IJN’s mail. When notified of the Japanese effort to resupply their men on Guadalcanal, Admiral Halsey ordered Task Force 67 to intercept Tanaka’s destroyers. Under the command of Rear Admiral Carleton H. Wright, Task Force 67 included four cruisers and four destroyers. Two additional destroyers joined Task Force 67 while en route to Guadalcanal from Espiritu Santo on 30 November.

Admiral Tanaka’s force arrived off Guadalcanal at around 2240 and began preparations to unload the supply barrels. Admiral Wright’s command approached the island through Iron Bottom Sound. Wright detected Tanaka’s force on radar but waited too long before giving the order to attack. Wright’s hesitance allowed Tanaka to escape an optimum firing setup. All American torpedoes missed their intended targets. At the same time, Admiral Wright’s cruisers opened fire, destroying one IJN guard destroyer. Tanaka abandoned his supply mission, increased the speed of his vessels, and launched a total of 44 torpedoes toward Wright’s cruisers. His salvo resulted in the demise of USS Northampton. USS Minneapolis, USS New Orleans, and USS Pensacola were all heavily damaged. Admiral Tanaka managed to escape, but his supply mission failed. Within a week, General Hyakutake was losing 50-men per day from malnutrition, disease, and Allied air/ground assaults. Additional efforts at resupply failed to alleviate the food crisis, and Admiral Tanaka lost another destroyer to a U. S. Navy Patrol/Torpedo Boat.

IJN headquarters proposed to abandon Guadalcanal on 12 December 1942; IJA headquarters concurred —given their inability to resupply forward ground forces, further efforts to retake Guadalcanal from the Americans would be impossible. The order to begin planning for the abandonment of Guadalcanal was issued on 26 December. The Japanese wanted to focus on New Guinea, instead. Emperor Hirohito formally approved this decision on 31 December. The effort to withdraw from the island was code named Operation Ke —it would commence during the latter part of January 1943.

During December 1942, the war-weary 1st Marine Division was withdrawn from Guadalcanal for rest and recuperation, replaced by the US XIV Corps (consisting of the 2nd Marine Division, 25th Infantry Division, and 23rd Infantry Division) under the command of Major General Alexander Patch, U. S. army. On 1 January, allied forces on Guadalcanal numbered around 50,000 troops.

On 18 December, XIV Corps began attacking Japanese positions on Mount Austen, but the Japanese mounted a sturdy defense and the American assaults stymied and halted on 4 January 1943. The Army renewed its offensive on 10 January. As Marines advanced along the coast, Army units poured into the Mount Austen area. The operation cost the Americans around 250 lives, but the Japanese suffered around 3,000 killed in action.

The Japanese delivered a battalion of soldiers via the Tokyo Express on 14 January. This unit was to provide a rear-guard for Operation Ke. Japanese warships and aircraft moved into positions around Rabaul and Bougainville in preparation of the withdrawal. Allied intelligence detected these enemy movements but misinterpreted them as a preparation for another attempt to seize Henderson Field and Guadalcanal. General Patch, an overly cautious commander, committed only a small portion of his troops to continue a slow-moving offensive against General Hyakutake.

Admiral Halsey, acting on the same intelligence assessment, dispatched a supply convoy to Guadalcanal with a screening force of several cruisers. Sighting these cruisers, Japanese torpedo bombers attacked and heavily damaged USS Chicago, which the Japanese sunk the next day in a separate action. Halsey directed the remaining cruisers to take up station in the Coral Sea, south of Guadalcanal, and prepare to counter a Japanese offensive. While Halsey anticipated a renewal of a Japanese offensive, the 17th Army withdrew to the west coast of Guadalcanal.

Twenty destroyers operating under the command of Admiral Shintaro Hashimoto successfully evacuated General Hyakutake and roughly 5,000 of his soldiers on the night of 1 February 1943. Additional evacuations occurred on 4 and 7 February. In total, the number of Japanese soldiers evacuated from Guadalcanal numbered 10,652 men.

America’s first offensive in World War II … what did we gain? It was the first step in recovering advanced Pacific bases. The United States developed Guadalcanal and Tulagi into major forward operating bases supporting the Allied advance further up the Solomon Islands chain, including additional fighter/bomber capable airstrips at Lunga and Koli Point, and major port and logistics facilities.

The Guadalcanal campaign transformed the Pacific war into a defensive war for the Japanese. They were a fierce and determined enemy, but clearly the Empire of Japan had bitten off far more than it could chew when it attacked the United States of America. In early 1943, the Allied forces gained a strategic initiative that they never once relinquished throughout the war. Japan’s withdrawal from the southern region of the Solomon Islands enabled the Allies to deny the Japanese Navy access to the sea; forward units of the IJA could not long survive without the IJN. Incrementally, the Allied forces neutralized Rabaul and facilitated the South West Pacific Campaign under General Douglas MacArthur and the Central Pacific Island-hopping campaign of Admiral Chester Nimitz. It was now up to the Allies to decide whether to destroy a Japanese held island or by-pass it.

The war was far from over, however. It would take bucket more blood to win the Pacific War.

Sources:

Braun, S. M. The Struggle for Guadalcanal (American Battles and Campaigns). New York: Putnam, 1969
Christ, J. F. Battalion of the Damned: The 1st Marine Paratroopers at Gavutu and Bloody Ridge. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2007
Coggins, J. The Campaign for Guadalcanal: A Battle That Made History. Garden City: Doubleday, 1972.
Hersey, J. Into the Valley: Marines at Guadalcanal. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002