Category: Aviation

The bloodiest battle — Part 1

Some background …

In 1967, North Vietnamese military officials realized that their war strategy in South Vietnam wasn’t working out quite the way they had hoped.  It was time to try something else.  The government of North Vietnam wanted a massive offensive, one that would reverse the course of the war.  When defense minister and senior army commander General Vo Nguyen Giap[1] voiced opposition to such an offensive, believing that a significant reversal of the war would not be the likely result of such an undertaking, North Vietnamese officials stripped Giap of his position, gave him a pocket watch, and sent him into retirement.

The politburo then appointed General Nguyen Chi Thanh to direct the offensive.  At the time, Thanh was commander of all Viet Cong forces in South Vietnam.  When General Thanh unexpectedly died, senior politburo members scrambled to reinstate General Giap.

Earlier — in the Spring of 1966 — Giap wondered how far the United States would go in defending the regime of South Vietnam.  To answer this question, he executed a series of attacks south of the demilitarized zone (DMZ) with two objectives in mind.  First, he wanted to draw US forces away from densely populated urban and lowland areas where the NVA would have an advantage.  Second, Giap wished to know if the United States could be provoked into invading North Vietnam.

Both questions seem ludicrous since luring the military out of towns and cities was the last thing he should have wanted, and unless China was willing to rush to the aid of its pro-communist “little brothers,” tempting the US to invade North Vietnam was fool-hardy.  In any case, General Giap began a massive buildup of military forces and placed them in the northern regions of South Vietnam.  Their route of infiltration into South Vietnam was through Laos.  General Giap completed his work at the end of 1967 — with six infantry divisions massed within the Quang Tri Province.

US Army General William C. Westmoreland, commander of the United States Military Assistance Command in Vietnam (COMUSMACV or MACV), led all US and allied forces in Vietnam.  Westmoreland responded to Giap’s buildup by increasing US/allied forces in Quang Tri, realizing that if he wanted the enemy to dance, he would have to send his men into the dance hall.

What Westmoreland could not do, however, was invade either North Vietnam or Laos[2].  Realizing this, Giap gained confidence in creating more significant battles inside South Vietnam.  But even this wasn’t working out as Giap imagined.  Westmoreland was not the same kind of man as French General Henri Navarre, whom Giap had defeated in 1954.  For one thing, Westmoreland was far more tenacious, and meeting the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) away from populated areas would allow Westmoreland to make greater use of his air and artillery assets.

In phases, Giap increased North Vietnam’s military footprint in the northern provinces of South Vietnam.  One example of this was the NVA’s siege of the Khe Sanh combat base.  President Lyndon Johnson was concerned that the NVA was attempting another coup de guerre, such as at Dien Bien Phu, where Navarre was thoroughly defeated.  Johnson ordered Khe Sanh held at all costs.  With everyone’s eyes now focused on those events, Giap launched a surprise offensive at the beginning of the Tet (Lunar New Year) celebration.  He gave his attack order on January 31, 1968.  It was a massive assault involving 84,000 NVA and Viet Cong (VC) soldiers executing simultaneous attacks on 36 of 44 provincial capitals, five of the six autonomous cities (including Saigon and Huế), 64 of 242 district capitals, and 50 hamlets.

Giap chose to violate the Tet cease-fire accord because he knew that many South Vietnamese soldiers would be granted leave to celebrate the holiday with their families.  It was an intelligent move that gave Giap a series of early successes.  VC forces even managed to breach the US Embassy enclosure in Saigon.  Within days, however, the offensive faltered as US/ARVN forces turned back the communist onslaught.  Heavy fighting continued in Kontum, Can Tho, Ben Tre, and Saigon … but the largest occurred in the City of Huế[3].  The Battle of Huế was the longest and the bloodiest battle of the Tet Offensive. 

In 1968, Huế was the third-largest city in South Vietnam; its population was around 140,000, and about a third of those living inside the Citadel, north of the Hương River, which flows through the city.[4]  Huế also sat astride Highway One, a major north-south main supply route about 50 miles south of the DMZ.  Huế was the former imperial capital of Vietnam.  Up to this point, Huế had only occasionally experienced the ravages of war—mortar fire, saboteurs, and acts of terrorism, but a large enemy force had never before appeared at the city’s gates.  But, as a practical matter, given the city’s cultural and intellectual importance to the Vietnamese people (and its status as the capital of Thua Thien Province), hostile actions were only a matter of time.

The people who lived in Huế enjoyed a tradition of civic independence dating back several hundred years.  The city’s religious monks viewed the war with disdain, but it is also true that few religious leaders felt any attachment to the government in Saigon.  They wanted national reconciliation — a coalition where everyone could get along.

Ancient tradition held that Huế had sprung to life as a lotus flower blossoming from a mud puddle.  It is a fascinating myth.  The city is situated on a bend of the Perfume (Hương) River just five miles southwest of the South China Sea.  The river divided Huế into two sections.  On the north bank stood the Citadel, a fortress encompassing nearly four square miles (modeled after China’s Forbidden City).  The Citadel was shaped like a diamond, its four corners pointing to the cardinal directions of the compass.  Stone walls encircled the Imperial City, and just beyond those, a wide moat filled with water.  The walls stood 8 meters high and several meters thick.

On the southeastern wall, the Perfume River ran a parallel course, which offered additional protection from that quarter.  There were ten gates; four of these (along the southeastern side) were made of carved stone.  The remaining walls each had two less elaborate gates.  A winding shallow canal ran through the Citadel, from southwest to northeast.  Two culverts connected the inner-city canal with those on the outside.

A newer section of the city lay south of the Perfume River.  It was the center for residential and business communities, including government offices (and a US Consulate), a university, provincial headquarters, a prison, a hospital, a treasury, and the forward headquarters element of MACV sited within a separate compound.  Referred to as “New City,” it was half the size of the old town.  It was also called The Triangle because of its irregular shape between the Phu Cam Canal in the south, a stream called Phat Lac on the east, and in the north by the Perfume River.  A pair of bridges linked the modern city to the Citadel: the Nguyen Hương Bridge (part of Highway 1) at the eastern corner of the Citadel, and fifteen hundred meters to the southwest was the Bach Ho Railroad Bridge.  Another bridge, called the An Cuu Bridge, was a modest arch on Highway 1 that conveyed traffic across the Phu Cam Canal.

Despite Huế’s importance, fewer than a thousand soldiers of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) were on duty.  Security for Huế was assigned to the First Infantry Division (ARVN) under the command of Brigadier General Ngo Quant Truong.  The 1st ARVN was headquartered within the fortified Mang Ca compound in the northeast corner of the Citadel.

Over half of Truong’s men were on leave for the holiday when the Giap commenced his offensive at Huế.   His subordinate commands’ location was spread along Highway 1 from north Huế to the DMZ.  The closest unit of any size to the division CP was the 3rd ARVN Regiment.  The regiment’s three battalions were located five miles northwest of Huế.  The only combat unit inside the city was a 36-man platoon belonging to an elite unit called the Black Panthers, a field reconnaissance and rapid reaction company.  Internal security for Huế was the responsibility of the National Police.[5]

The nearest US combat base was Phu Bai, six miles south on Highway 1.  Phu Bai was a major U. S. Marine Corps command post and support facility that included the forward headquarters element of the 1st Marine Division (designated Task Force X-Ray).  The Commanding General of Task Force X-Ray[6] was Brigadier General Foster C. LaHue, who also served as the Assistant Division Commander of the 1st Marine Division.  Also situated at Phu Bai were the headquarters elements of the 1st Marine Regiment (Stanley S. Hughes, Commanding) and the 5th Marine Regiment (Robert D. Bohn, Commanding).  There were also three battalions of Marines: 1st Battalion, 1st Marines (1/1) (Lt. Col. Marcus J. Gravel, Commanding), 1st Battalion, 5th Marines (1/5) (LtCol Robert P. Whalen, Commanding), and 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines (2/5) (LtCol Ernest C. Cheatham, Jr., Commanding).

In addition to the Marines, several US Army commands were present, including two brigades of the 1st Air Cavalry Division (AIR CAV), which included the 7th and 12th Cavalry Regiments (dispersed over a wide area, from Phu Bai in the south to Quang Tri in the north), and the 1st Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division at Camp Evans, between Huế and Quang Tri.  Operational control of the 1st Brigade was assigned to the 1st Air Cav.

NVA forces included 8,000 well-trained and equipped soldiers.  The majority of these were NVA regulars.  The NVA was reinforced by six VC main force battalions (between 300 and 600 men each).  The field commander of these forces was General Tran Van Quang.  The NVA plan called for a division-sized assault on the Imperial City, with other units serving as a blocking force to stop or frustrate the efforts of any allied reinforcing units.  True to form, the communists knew all they needed about their civilian and military objectives within the city.  VC cadres had also prepared a list of “tyrants” who were to be located and terminated — nearly all of these South Vietnamese civilian and military officials.  Added to the lists were US civilians, clergy, educators, and other foreigners.  The communists also knew all they needed to know about the weather.

The NVA plan (termed the General Offensive/General Uprising) was designed to incorporate both conventional and guerilla operations intending to destroy any vestige of the South Vietnam government and its Western allies, and if not that, then discredit the enemy and cause a popular uprising among the people.  If everything worked according to plan, the Western allies would be forced to withdraw their forces from Vietnam.

A few senior NVA planners thought a popular uprising was highly unlikely; a few more expected that ARVN and US forces would drive the NVA out of the city within a few days —but, of course, such defeatist notions were best left unsaid.  Meanwhile, the young, idealistic, gullible soldiers believed the propaganda and went into combat, convinced of a great victory.  When these same young men departed their training camps, they had no intention of returning.  Many wouldn’t.

The Fight Begins

In January 1968, everyone sensed that something was off-kilter.  Tet was approaching.  The people were uneasy.  The cancellation of the Tet Truce and enemy attacks at Da Nang and elsewhere in southern I Corps dampened the normally festive spirit at Tet.[7]  The first indication of trouble came shortly after midnight during the night of January 30-31 — a five-pronged assault on all five provincial capitals in II Corps and the city of Da Nang in I Corps.  VC attacks began with mortar and rocket fire, followed by large-scale ground assaults by NVA regulars.  However, these were not well-coordinated attacks, and by dawn on January 31, most communists had been driven back from their objectives.

These initial attacks turned out to have been launched prematurely, but while US forces and ARVN units were placed on operational alert, there was no immediate sense of urgency.  ARVN commands sent our orders, which canceled all leaves for the Tet holiday, but most of these arrived too late, and besides that, General Truong did not believe the NVA had the intent or capability of attacking Huế City.  Allied intelligence kept tabs on two NVA regiments in Thua Thien Province, but there was little evidence of enemy activity in and around Huế City.  When Truong positioned his reduced force around the city, he intended to defend the urban areas outside the Citadel.

General Truong was not necessarily wrong in his conclusions —he was only misinformed.  According to US intelligence, the 6th NVA Regiment (with 804th Battalion) was reported operational 15 miles west of Huế.  The 806th Battalion was positioned outside Phong Dien, 22 miles northeast of Huế.  The 802nd Battalion was placed 12 miles south of Huế.  Analysts also placed the 4th NVA Regiment between Phu Bai and Da Nang.  Unknown to anyone, both regiments were en route to Huế.  The 6th NVA Regiment’s primary objectives were the Mang Ca headquarters compound, the Tay Loc Airfield, and the Imperial Palace.  The 4th NVA Regiment was assigned to attack New City, including the Provincial headquarters, the prison, and the MACV (forward) headquarters compound.  NVA planners assigned 200 specific targets between these two regiments, including radio stations, police stations, government officials, recruiting centers, and the Imperial Museum.  Viet Cong main force battalions were specifically targeting individuals — those sympathetic to the South Vietnam regime.

On January 30, enemy shock troops and sappers entered the city disguised as simple peasants, their uniforms and weapons concealed in baggage or under their street clothes.  VC and NVA regulars mingled with the Tet holiday crowds.  Many of these covert agents dressed in ARVN uniforms and then took up pre-designated positions to await the signal to attack.  The 6th NVA Regiment was only a few miles from the city’s western edge.  About 1900, the Regiment stopped for an evening meal, and regimental officers inspected their troops.  The regiment resumed its march one hour later in three columns, each with an objective within the Citadel.

At 2200 hours, Lieutenant Nguyen Van Tan, Commanding Officer of the 1st ARVN Division Reconnaissance Company, was leading a 30-man surveillance mission when a Regional Force Company east of his position reported it was under attack.[8]  Remaining concealed, Tan observed two enemy battalions filter past his position toward Huế City.  Tan radioed this information back to the 1st ARVN.  These were likely the 800th and 802nd Battalions, 6th NVA Regiment.  Despite Tan’s report, the communist troops continued toward Huế unmolested.

The NVA country-wide general offensive began at 0300; the only ARVN force inside Huế was the Black Panther Company, responsible for guarding the Tai Loc Airstrip (northwestern corner of the Citadel).  By then, large numbers of VC guerillas had already infiltrated the city.  In the early morning hours, the enemy took up positions in the town and awaited the arrival of NVA and VC assault troops.

At 0340, the NVA launched a rocket and mortar barrage from the mountains west of the city and followed this up with a three-pronged assault.  A small sapper team dressed in ARVN uniforms killed guards and opened the western gate to the Citadel.  The lead elements of the assault thus penetrated the city; the 6th NVA Regiment led the attack.  As communist fighters poured into Huế, the 800th and 802nd Battalions rapidly overran most of the Citadel.  General Truong and his staff held off the attackers at the ARVN compound, and the Black Panther Company held its ground at the eastern end of the airfield.  Truong later withdrew the Black Panther company from the airfield to reinforce the ARVN compound.  Except for this area, the NVA held the entire citadel, including the Imperial Palace.

The situation was similar across the Perfume River in southern Huế.  The sound of explosions awakened allied advisors in the MACV compound.  Grabbing any weapon they could get their hands on, advisors were able to repulse the ground assault, which lacked a coordinated effort.  When the initial assault faltered, the 804th Battalion, 4th NVA Regiment, encircled the compound and began their siege.  Two VC main force battalions seized the Thua Thien Provincial headquarters, the police station, and several other government buildings south of the river.  The NVA 810th Battalion took up blocking positions on the city’s southern edge.  By dawn on January 31, the North Vietnamese flag was flying over the Citadel, communist troops patrolled the streets, and political officers had begun their purge of South Vietnamese officials and American civilians.

The U. S. Marines

While the NVA were launching their attacks at Huế, the Marine Base at Phu Bai began receiving enemy rockets and mortars targeting the airstrip and Marine and ARVN infantry units.  General LaHue started receiving reports of enemy strikes along Highway 1 between the Hai Van Pass and the City of Huế.  Altogether, the NVA launched assaults against 18 targets.  Intelligence was jumbled; no one was sure what was happening or where.  LaHue knew that the 1st ARVN and MACV compounds had been hit, and because of the attack against the Navy’s LCU facility, all river traffic had ceased.

Meanwhile, General Truong realized that, at best, he had a tenuous hold on his headquarters.  He ordered the 3rd Regiment (reinforced by two ARVN airborne battalions and a troop of armored cavalry) to fight into the Citadel from the northeast.  The regiment finally arrived in the late afternoon, but only after intense fighting and a costly fight in terms of soldiers killed and wounded.  Pleas for reinforcements at the MACV compound went unanswered because none of the senior commanders knew the extent of the enemy’s strength or their success in entering Huế. 

Lieutenant General Hoang Xuan Lam (Commander, ARVN Forces I CTZ) and Lieutenant General Robert Cushman (CG III Marine Amphibious Force (MAF)) began ordering subordinate commands to prevent enemy reinforcements from reaching the city. The NVA had the same idea—to prevent Western allies from entering the city.  The NVA 806th and 810th blocked positions in southern Huế and along Highway 1.

Having received no reliable intelligence, General LaHue surmised that the attacks might have been a diversionary strike.  General LaHue, who was only newly assigned to the Phu Bai area, was still unfamiliar with this tactical region (also, TAOR), let alone the fast-developing situation in Huế City.[9]  This wasn’t the only problem for the Marines.  Task Force X-Ray was created to help manage a major shift in the locations of the various combat elements of the First Marine Division and Third Marine Division, necessitated by MACV’s realignment of forces in I Corps.[10]

Colonel Bohn arrived at Phu Bai with General LaHue on 13th January.  1/1 under Colonel Gravel began making its move from Quang Tri at about the same time.  His subordinate units, Charlie Company and Delta Company, reached Phu Bai on January 26, while Bravo Company and Headquarters Company arrived three days later.  Alpha Company, Captain Gordon D. Batcheller, Commanding, arrived piecemeal.  Two of his platoon commanders failed to arrive with their platoons, and a third platoon commander was attending leadership school in Da Nang.[11]

On January 30th, the First Marine Regiment (1st Marines) replaced the 5th Marines in operational responsibility for the Phu Bai TAOR.  Colonel Hughes formally took operational control of the 1st Battalion (consisting of Company B, C, and D).  In effect, Hughes commanded a paper regiment with barely a single battalion of Marines. 

1/1 had already relieved 2/5, providing security on various bridges along Highway 1 and other key positions.  When Company A finally arrived at Phu Bai on January 30, it was designated battalion reserve (also Bald Eagle Reaction Force).  2/5 moved into the Phu Loc sector and assumed responsibility for the area south of the Truoi River and east of the Cao Dai Peninsula.  1/5 retained responsibility for the balance of the Phu Loc region, extending to the Hai Van Pass.

At around 1730 hours on January 30, a Marine Recon unit (code name Pearl Chest) made lethal contact with what was believed to be an NVA company moving north toward Huế, resulting in around 15 enemy killed in action (KIA).  After the unit fell back, it regrouped and encircled the Marines.  Poor weather prevented Allied air support; the Recon Marines called for relief.  LtCol Robert P. Whalen, commanding 1/5, sent his Bravo Company to relieve the Recon team.  The NVA attacked Bravo Company as it approached the location of the embattled Recon Marines.  Company B proceeded slowly with known enemies in the area and no understanding of how many.  Whalen requested Bohn to send additional reinforcements from 2/5 so as not to diminish his battalion’s ability to defend the town of Phu Loc.

Colonel Bohn tasked Cheatham to send in a reinforcing company.  Cheatham assigned this mission to Fox Company 2/5 (Captain Michael P. Downs, Commanding).  NVA units ambushed Fox Company as it moved into 1/5’s sector.  This action occurred at around 2300 hours, with Marines suffering one KIA and three wounded in action (WIA).  After this contact, the NVA faded into the night.  Fox Company secured an LZ to evacuate the injured and then returned to the 2/5 perimeter.

Realizing that his force was thin — and that his meager force could not sustain a significant engagement, Colonel Hughes ordered the Recon team to break out and return to Phu Bai.  Whalen also directed Bravo Company to return to base.  Colonel Bohn was puzzled about the purpose of these engagements.

As NVA units assaulted Huế City, they also attacked the Marines at Phu Bai with rockets and mortars, targeting the airstrip, known Marine positions around the airfield,  and nearby Combined Action Platoons (CAPs) and local Popular Forces/Regional Forces (PF/RF) units.[12]  An NVA company-sized unit attacked the South Vietnamese bridge security detachment along with CAP Hotel-Eight.  LtCol Cheatham ordered Hotel Company 2/5 (Captain G. Ronald Christmas, Commanding) to relieve the embattled CAP unit.  Marines from Hotel Company caught the NVA in the act of withdrawing from the CAP enclave and took it under fire.  Seeing an opportunity to trap the NVA unit, Cheatham reinforced Hotel Company with his command group and Fox Company, which had just returned from its Phu Loc operation.

With his other companies in a blocking position, Cheatham hoped to catch the enemy against the Truoi River.  However, after initiating the engagement with the NVA unit, events inside Huế City interrupted his plans.  At around 1030 on January 31, Golf Company 2/5 was ordered to assume Task Force X-Ray reserve.  The company detached from 2/5 and headed back to Phu Bai.  Later that day, 2/5 also lost operational control of Fox Company, which allowed the NVA units to complete their withdrawal.  Hotel and Echo Companies established night defensive positions.

While 2/5 engaged NVA along the Truoi River and Phu Loc, 1/1 began to move into Huế City.  Task Force X-Ray had received reports of enemy strikes all along Highway 1 between Hai Van Pass and Huế.  Eighteen separate attacks had occurred against everything from bridges to CAP units.  With Alpha Company 1/1/ as Phu Bai reserve, Colonel Hughes directed Gravel to stage Alpha Company for any contingency.  At 0630 on January 31, Hughes ordered Alpha Company to reinforce the Truoi River Bridge.  All that the company commander knew was that he was to strengthen ARVN forces south of Phu Bai.

What occurred over the next several hours is best described as a “cluster fuck.”  Alpha Company was convoyed to liaison with ARVN units.  There were no ARVN units.  The company commander encountered a few Marines from a nearby CAP unit and was told that Beau coupé VC were moving toward Huế.  Gravel then ordered Batcheller to reverse course and reinforce an Army unit north of Huế.  General LaHue rescinded that order, and Alpha Company was then ordered to assist a CAP unit south of Phu Bai.  Thirty minutes later, Task Force X-Ray directed Alpha Company to proceed to the Navy LCU ramp to investigate reports of an enemy assault.  In effect, the Marines of Alpha Company were being ground down by false starts.

Up to this point, the battle of Huế had been a South Vietnamese problem.  General LaHue had little worthwhile information, and Alpha Company continued north toward Huế.  The convoy met up with four tanks from the 3rd Tank Battalion.  Batcheller invited the tanks to join him, and they accepted.  Alpha Company, now reinforced with M-48 tanks, moved toward the MACV compound.

As Alpha Company approached the southern suburbs, the Marines came under increased sniper fire.  At one village, the Marines were forced to dismount their vehicles and conduct clearing operations before proceeding further.  The convoy no sooner crossed the An Cuu Bridge, which spanned the Phu Cam Canal into the city, when they were caught in a murderous crossfire from enemy automatic weapons and rockets.  NVA were on both sides of the road.  The lead tank commander was killed.  Alpha Company pushed forward —albeit cautiously.  Batcheller maintained “sporadic” communications with Gravel at Phu Bai.  For the most part, the only thing Batcheller heard on the artillery and air nets were the voices of frantic Vietnamese.  When Alpha Company reached the causeway, they once more came under sniper fire.  Batcheller was seriously wounded.  Gunnery Sergeant J. L. Canley assumed command of the company.[13]

Colonel Hughes requested permission from LaHue to reinforce Alpha Company.  The only available reinforcing units were  Headquarters & Service Company (H&SCo), 1/1, and Golf Company, 2/5.  Colonel Gravel’s battalion was strung out from Phu Bai to Quang Tri (a distance of 46 miles).  For whatever reason, Gravel had never met his Golf Company Commander, Captain Charles L. Meadows.  Worse, Captain Meadows had no idea what was happening or what his upcoming mission would entail.  All Meadows understood was that Golf Company would help escort the Commanding General to the 1st ARVN Division and back to Phu Bai.

Gravel’s hodge-podge column reached Alpha Company in the early afternoon.  Gravel assumed control of the tanks but sent the trucks loaded with WIAs back to Phu Bai (including Captain Batcheller).   With tanks taking point, Alpha Company, H&S Company, and Golf Company —in that order— raced toward the MACV compound.  They arrived at about 1500 hours.  By this time, the enemy had pulled back.  Gravel met with the US Army senior advisor at the MACV compound, Colonel George O. Adkisson.  Gravel was trying to understand the enemy situation, but this conversation may have ended with Gravel having even less understanding than when the discussion had begun.

Gravel ordered Alpha Company to establish a defensive perimeter at the MACV compound.  With armor reinforcements from the Marines and 7th ARVN, Gavel took Golf Company in tow and attempted to cross the main bridge over the Perfume River.  Marine armor was too heavy for the bridge, so Gravel left them on the south bank of the river.  Available Vietnamese M-24 tank crews refused to go across the bridge.[14]  Gravel directed two platoons to cross the bridge, but they were saturated with enemy fire when they reached the other side.  Realizing he was outgunned, Gravel withdrew his Golf Company and returned to the MACV compound.  One-third of Company G’s Marines were killed or wounded in this engagement.

The Americans still had scant information about the situation in Huế at 2000 hours.  If General LaHue was confused, he knew far more about the situation than did Westmoreland.  According to Westmoreland’s message to the JCS Chairman, three NVA companies were inside the Citadel, and a battalion of Marines had been sent in to clear them out.

The Struggle —

On February 1, senior allied commanders agreed that the 1st ARVN Division would assume responsibility for the Citadel while Task Force X-Ray would clear the New City.  General LaHue ordered Gravel to advance from the MACV compound to the Thua Thien provincial headquarters and the prison — a distance of about six city blocks.  General LaHue briefed reporters, saying, “… very definitely, we control the city’s southside.”

In reality, the Marine footprint was too small to control anything.  CG III MAF secured Westmoreland’s permission to send in the Cavalry.  Major General John J. Tolson, commanding the First Cavalry Division (Airmobile), intended to insert his Third Brigade from Camp Evans into the sector west of Huế City.  Two battalions would be airlifted into the northwest sector: 2nd Battalion, 12th Cavalry Regiment, and 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry (and Brigade CP).  Their mission was to close off the enemy’s supply line into Huế.  Additionally, the 2nd Battalion, 101st Airborne, would cover security for Camp Evans, and the division’s First Brigade would continue operations in Quang Tri Province.  At mid-afternoon on February 2, CAV 2/12 landed 10 miles northwest of Huế and began pushing toward the city.

But on February 2, the Marines were still struggling.  There was some minor progress, but only after a 3-hour firefight.  1/1 finally reached the university, and the Army radio center was relieved.  During the night, NVA managed to destroy the railroad bridge across the Perfume River.  Commanding Hotel Company 2/5, Captain Ron Christmas crossed the An Cuu Bridge at around 1100.  Hotel Company was reinforced with Army trucks equipped with Quad-50 machine guns and two ONTOS, each armed with six 106mm recoilless rifles, which devastated enemy positions wherever they were found.    

Gravel launched a two-company assault toward his two objectives.  The enemy stopped the attack as effectively as a brick wall, and the Marines withdrew to the MACV compound.  It was then that General LaHue realized that he had underestimated the enemy’s strength.  Shortly after noon, LaHue gave Colonel Hughes tactical control of Marine forces in the southern city.  Hughes promised Gravel reinforcements and directed that he commence “sweep and clear operations: destroy the enemy, protect US nationals, and restore that portion of the city to US Control.” 

On the afternoon of February 2, Hughes decided to move his command group from Phu Bai into Huế, where he could more directly control the battle.  Accompanying Hughes in the convoy was Lt. Col. Ernest Cheatham, commander of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, who, up until then, had been sitting frustrated in Phu Bai while three of his companies (F, G, and H) fought in Huế under Gravel’s command.[15]

Hughes quickly established his command post in the MACV compound.  The forces at his disposal included Cheatham’s three companies from 2/5 and Gravel’s depleted battalion consisting of A Company, 1/1; a provisional company made up of one platoon of B Company, 1/1; and several dozen cooks and clerks who had been sent to the front to fight alongside the infantry.

Endnotes:

[1] General Giap defeated the Imperial French after eight years of brutal warfare following the end of World War II.

[2] The United States did deploy covert and special forces into Laos at a later time.

[3] Pronounced as “Way.”

[4] The Hương River (also Hương Giang) crosses the city of Huế in the central province of Thừa Thiên-Huế.  The translation for Hương is Perfume.  It is called the Perfume River because, in autumn, flowers from upriver orchards fall into the river, giving it a perfume-like aroma.  Of course, this phenomenon likely happened a thousand years ago because, in 1968, the river smelled more like an open sewer.   

[5] The National Police were sometimes (derisively) referred to as white mice.  They were un-professional, non-lethal, timid, and about a third of them were giving information to the enemy on a regular basis.

[6] Task Force X-Ray went operational on 13 January 1968.

[7] In 1962, South Vietnam was divided into four tactical zones: CTZs or numbered Corps.  These included I CTZ (Quang Tri, Thua Thien, Quang Nam, and Quang Tin); II CTZ (Quang Ngai, Kontum, Pleiku, Binh Dinh, Phu Yen, and Phu Bon); III CTZ (16 provinces); IV CTZ (13 provinces), and the Capital Zone (Saigon and Gia Dinh provinces).

[8] South Vietnamese militia.

[9] Equally valid for most subordinate commanders and units at Phu Bai.

[10] Operation Checkers was a shift in responsibility for guarding the western approaches to Huế City.  To that end, the 1st and 5th Marine Regiments moved into Thua Thien Province from Da Nang.  It was a massive shift of American military units, which also involved US Army units operating in I Corps.  This shifting of major subordinate commands played right into General Giap’s hands.

[11] I will probably never understand why sending a recently commissioned officer to a leadership school in Vietnam was necessary. 

[12] Thirteen-man rifle squads with medical support and reinforced by Vietnamese militia platoons assigned to provide area security within rural hamlets.  See Also: Fix Bayonets on 02/05/2016 (series)

[13] Initially awarded the Navy Cross medal, the award was upgraded to the Medal of Honor in 2017.

[14] The M-24 Chafee light tank weighed 18 tons; the M-48 Patton tank weighed 40 tons.  The Vietnamese tank crews were likely ordered not to attempt to cross the bridge.

[15] At this time, Ernie Cheatham was a 38-year-old veteran of two wars and 14 years removed from a professional football career.  The Pittsburgh Steelers picked him in the 1951 draft.  He put his NFL career on hold to fight in the Korean War, afterward suiting up as a defensive tackle with the Steelers for the 1954 season.  But after being traded to the Baltimore Colts, Cheatham left professional football and rejoined the Marine Corps.  Lieutenant General Ernest C. Cheatham retired from active service in 1988; he passed away on 14 June 2014.

Second Battle of the Naktong Bulge

Background

When North Korean People’s Army (NKPA) forces invaded the Republic of South Korea (ROK), they did so with superiority in both manpower and equipment.  The NKPA benefitted from the training, arms, and equipment provided by the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR).  North Korea’s President Kim Il-sung took his orders directly from Joseph Stalin.

The NKPA’s mission was to aggressively pursue United Nations forces and the fledgling ground forces of the Republic of South Korea, attacking them frontally and from the flanks until they had surrounded and destroyed all resistance.[1]  The strategy worked well enough in the first three months of their invasion; between 25 June and late August 1950, the NKPA continually attacked, mauled, and demoralized ROC and UN forces, pushing them ever southward to what became the Pusan Perimeter.  As numerically inferior ROC and UN forces withdrew southward in an often disorderly manner, they left behind their dead, their wounded, and their “missing in action.”  They also abandoned critical wartime equipment, which the NKPA later used against the Allied forces.

When the NKPA approached the Pusan Perimeter, however, their frontal attacks were only marginally successful; envelopment operations were even less so.  It was from within the Pusan Perimeter that UN forces, primarily the United States Army with only token participation by UN and NATO allies, began the process of reorganization, reinforcement, and resupply.[2]

See also: First Battle of the Naktong Bulge.

Following the First Battle of the Naktong Bulge, Lieutenant General Walton H. Walker, commanding the U.S. Eighth Army, assigned the defense of the Naktong Line to the inexperienced Second U.S. Infantry Division (2 ID).[3]  His decision made 2 ID the main target of several enemy infantry divisions.  The NKPA intended to split 2 ID, thus rendering it incapable of massed resistance.  The NKPA’s success enabled the communists to penetrate Yongsan.

A Second Battle Evolves

The 5th Marine’s earlier assault upon the NKPA 4th Infantry Division at the cloverleaf rendered that division ineffective as a combat force.  Similarly, US Army units pushed the NKPA 6th Infantry Division back across the Naktong River.  In the Taegu region of South Korea in late August, three U.S. divisions repulsed five enemy infantry/armored divisions.  The main battles in this engagement included the Battle of Masan, the Battle of Chindong-ni, the Battle of Komam-ni, the Battle of the Mountain, and the Battle of the Bowling Alley, which rendered the NKPA 13th Infantry Division ineffective.  On South Korea’s east coast, ROK infantry divisions pushed back three additional NKPA divisions at Pohang-dong.  [Pictured: Captain Francis Ike Fenton, Jr., Commanding Officer, Company B 1/5 August 1950 (titled: The face of war).][4]

Reeling from the American assault, the enemy commander decided to reinitiate offensive operations.  Still, in light of the U.S. Navy’s lethal naval gunfire support to ground forces, they avoided future flanking movements.  Instead, the NKPA opted for a series of frontal assaults to breach the U.S. perimeter.  The communists reasoned that it was their only hope of achieving victory.

Supplied with intelligence from the USSR, the NKPA was well aware that MacArthur’s U.N. command was building up its forces within the Pusan Perimeter.  The defeat of these new units was critical to the NKPA’s overall success in pushing the Americans into the Sea of Japan.  Moreover, to achieve a final victory, the NKPA would have to surround Taegu and destroy all UN/US forces defending it.  Cutting the main supply route (MSR) into Taegu would be critical to achieving that objective.

The NKPA plan called for a five-pronged assault.  In the center, the 9th, 4th, 2nd, and 10th NKPA divisions would overwhelm 2 ID at the Naktong Bulge and seize Miryang and Yongsan.  The attack would commence on September 1, 1950.

On September 1, the 35th Regiment (25 ID) engaged the enemy in the Battle of the Nam River, north of Masan.  On the 35th’s right was the 9th Regiment (part of 2 ID).  The 9th occupied a front extending over 18,000 meters (11.2 miles), which included a portion of the Naktong Bulge.  Each regiment’s rifle company had a defensive front of 910 to 1,220 meters, but in reality, these units only held the key hills and observation points.  The area assigned to the 9th Regiment was unrealistic, far exceeding its defense capability.  The regiment had been observing enemy activity to their front for several days.  The regimental operations officer assumed that the NKPA was reinforcing their defensive positions.  One indication of likely lethal action was when civilian laborers supporting the NKPA fled the front lines.

The NKPA 9th Infantry Division intended to outflank and destroy the US army at the Naktong Bulge by capturing Miryang and Samnang-jin.  This action would cut off 2 ID’s MSR and escape route between Taegu and Pusan.  The NKPA also planned to attack 24 ID, an organization the North Koreans knew was exhausted after several weeks of fighting.  Unknown to the North Koreans, the American 2 ID replaced 24 ID on the line.  On the night of August 31, elements of the NKPA 9th began crossing the Naktong River.

The soldiers of 2 ID were fresh — but most of the men were inexperienced and without a clue about what would happen when the enemy attacked.  The NKPA overran the young troopers amid green flares and shrill whistles and pushed many of them to the 25 ID line.   

Another call for the Fire Brigade

“The Pusan perimeter is like a weakened dike; the Army intends to use us to plug the holes as they open.  We’re a brigade —a fire brigade.  It will be costly fighting against a numerically superior enemy.  Marines have never lost a battle; this brigade will not be the first to establish such a precedent.  Prepare to move.”  — Brigadier General Edward A. Craig, USMC.

By September 1, less than thirty days from the beginning of their fight, the 1st Marine Provisional Brigade (1stMarBde) was down to around 4,300 men; in less than 30 days, the Marines had taken 500 casualties.  Word had come down to the Brigade Commander, Brigadier General Edward A. Craig, that the Marines would come off the line.  They were needed elsewhere.  No one in the ranks knew where, exactly, and no one asked, but it would have to be better than the Pusan Perimeter.  Craig knew what was coming — as did General Douglas A. MacArthur and Major General Oliver P. Smith, USMC.  However, preparations for moving the Marines came to a halt early in the morning of September 1, 1950.

The following day, the 1st and 2nd Regiments of the NKPA (9th Infantry Division) stood a few miles short of Yongsan.  Facing them were the shattered remains of Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, US 9th.  There were no other UN/US troops to defend Yongsan.  The 2 ID commander, Major General Lawrence B. Keiser, had formed ad hoc units from his support troops to shore up Easy Company.  Still, it would not be enough to withstand a further assault by the enemy division.

In Tokyo, Major General Doyle O. Hickey, Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations, United Nations Far East Command, wanted to know when General Walker intended to release the Marines for further assignment.  In his answer, General Walker described the situation: “The 2nd ID has been shattered, and the ground between what remained of it, and the 25 ID line, is in grave peril.”  Walker said he did not think he could save the 2nd ID without the Marines.  MacArthur approved Walker’s further use of the 1stMarBde, and they soon became attached to General Keiser’s command.[5]

 Subsequently, Walker ordered Keiser to destroy enemy units east of the Naktong River and restore the 2 ID main line of resistance (MLR).  Walker informed Keiser and Craig that he would release the Marines as soon as Keiser accomplished that mission.  Following a council of war between the Eighth Army, 2 ID, and 1stMarBde on September 2, a decision was taken to mount a counterattack the next morning.  The 5th Marines would commence its attack to the west at 08:00 on September 3, astride the Yongsan-Naktong Road.  Army units would attack northwest from a position above the Marines and attempt to tie in with the 23rd Regiment.  On the Marines’ left, what remained of the 2nd Combat Engineer Battalion, 1/9th, and the 72nd Tank Battalion would attack south to reestablish contact with 25 ID.

Marines were scheduled to relieve George and Fox companies 2/9th and 2nd Combat Engineers at 0300 and 0430 on September 3.  The second battalion, 5th Marines (2/5) under Lieutenant Colonel Harold S. Roise, assembled north of Yongsan.  Lieutenant Colonel George R. Newton’s 1/5 assembled south of Yongsan.  Lieutenant Colonel Robert D. Taplett’s 3/5 provided area security southwest of Yongsan, covering the enemy’s likely avenues of approach.  Fighting began during the night of September 2-3, with Marines gaining high ground to serve as their line of departure.  With the help of Marine tank fire, G 2/5 overcame heavy NKPA resistance, but the fight delayed a coordinated advance of the two line battalions.  The Marines “jumped off” at 0855 toward the NKPA high ground, one-half mile distant.

A coordinated assault by aircraft, artillery, and pissed-off Marine infantry caused NKPA forces in front of them to break off and withdraw.  Machine gun fire from 1/5 caught the NKPA reinforcements in the open and slaughtered them in the hundreds.  By noon, 1/5 possessed Hill 91.

North of the road, 2/5 had a more difficult time in their advance.  Heavy NKPA fire halted the Marines short of Hill 116, 2 miles west of Yongsan.  Owing to the Koreans’ stubborn resistance, the battle raged through most of the night, and D 1/5 found itself isolated in the cut between Hill 91 and Hill 116.  West of Yongsan, Marine tanks knocked out four T-34 tanks; a fifth tank was abandoned when the communist crew decided to seek employment elsewhere.  During the fight, 2/5 gave up 34 dead and 77 wounded.

Just before midnight on September 3, the CO 5th Marines (Colonel Murray) ordered Taplett to lead his 3/5 through Roise’s 2/5 and prepare for a resumption of the attack the following day.  That night, heavy rain brought an end to a perfectly crappy day for the Marines.  3/5 held up just short of 2/5’s rear.  By dawn, the sky was clear, and 2/5 continued its advance — at first, against little opposition.

At 0800, 2/5 resumed its advance north of the road and seized Hill 116.  During the night, under cover of dense rain, the NKPA 9th Division withdrew.  South of the road, 1/5 occupied what appeared to have been the enemy Division’s command post.  The Marines found abandoned tents and equipment, including two fully functional T-34 tanks.  Advancing Marines, supported by tanks, found enemy dead strewn all about.  By nightfall, the Marines had advanced another 5 kilometers.

On September 5, 1950, Murray called for preparatory artillery fire before the Marine’s third day in the assault.  The heavy rain soaked the Marines and placed them in the right frame of mind for intense combat.  The ground was soggy and slippery.  While slogging forward toward Obong-ni Ridge, the 9th Regiment moved into the cloverleaf where the battle had raged in the previous month.  At midmorning, after the Marines spotted the enemy digging in on the high ground ahead, they took positions between two hills.  At around 1430, 300 enemy infantry suddenly appeared from concealed positions inside the village of Tugok and fanatically charged the Marines of B 1/5.  Able Company, supporting Army artillery, and 81mm mortars repelled the attack, but not before Baker Company suffered 25 casualties. Pictured right, Navy Corpsmen aid wounded Marines.

As the NKPA began its assault on Company B, two T-34 tanks surprised and knocked out two of the Marine’s leading M-26 (Pershing) tanks.  Because the two wounded tanks blocked their field of fire, four other Marine tanks withdrew to better firing positions.  Tank assault teams from Company B took the T-34s under fire, destroying both, along with an enemy armored personnel carrier.

September 5 was a tough day for US forces.  Army units suffered 105 killed, 430 wounded, and 587 missing in action (1,119 total casualties.  Marine casualties were 35 dead and 91 wounded (126 total).  The Allied offensive of September 3-5 was one of the bloodiest battles of the Korean War.  It was a time when the enemy’s 4th and 9th Infantry Divisions ceased to exist as combat units.

Against his will, Lieutenant General Walker released the Marines late at night on September 4th; they began pulling out for Pusan just a little after midnight.  General MacArthur replaced the 5th Marine Regiment with two Army regiments: the 17th and 65th Infantry Regiments.  General Walker did not think two Army regiments were a suitable replacement for one understrength Marine regiment, but he had no further say in the matter.

The First Marine Brigade traveled to Japan and was absorbed into the 1st Marine Division.  In ten days, the men of the 5th Marine Regiment and Marine Aircraft Group 33 would participate in one of the world’s most spectacular and difficult amphibious landings.  They called it INCHON.

Sources:

  1. Alexander, B.  Korea: The First War We Lost.  Hippocrene Books, 2003.
  2. Blair, C., Jr.  The Forgotten War.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2003.
  3. Fehrenbach, T. R.  This Kind of War: A Study in Unpreparedness.  New York: Macmillan Co., 1963.
  4. Gugeler, R. A.  Combat Actions in Korea.  Honolulu: University Press of the Pacific, 2005.
  5. Halberstam, D.  The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War.  New York, Hyperion Books, 2007.
  6. Malkasian, C.  The Korean War.  Osprey Publishing, 2001.
  7. Simmons, E. H.  The United States Marines: A History.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2003.
  8. Tucker, S. C., ed.  Encyclopedia of the Korean War: A Political, Social, and Military History.  Santa Barbara: Checkmark Books, 2002.
  9. Varhola, M. J.  Fire and Ice: The Korean War, 1950-1953.  Mason City: Da Capo Press, 2000.

Endnotes:

[1] The United Nations Command (also UNC) is the multinational military force that supported the Republic of Korea during and after the Korean War (which, technically, is still underway).  As Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers (SCAP) and Commander of the United Nations Command, Douglas MacArthur commanded all Allied forces during the Korean War.

[2] U.S. logistical power provided the wherewithal for the beleaguered Army units to resist overwhelming North Korean forces and begin planning a counter-offensive.

[3] Walker (1889-1950) graduated from the USMA in 1907 and served in the First and Second World Wars and the early months of the Korean War.  While commanding the 8th US Army, Walker was killed in a jeep accident. 

[4] Captain (later Colonel Fenton) (1922-1998) was the son of Brigadier General Francis I. Fenton, Sr.  During the Battle of Okinawa, F. I. Fenton, Sr., served as the 1st Marine Division combat engineer.  It was during this battle that he learned that his youngest son, PFC Michael Fenton, serving as a scout sniper with Company B, 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, had been killed near Sugar Loaf Hill.

[5] This was the second time in Marine Corps history that Marines served with the U.S.  Second Infantry Division—the first time within the 4th Marine Brigade in World War I.

Vietnam — A Complicated War

Lunar New Year is the first new moon of a lunar calendar whose months are organized according to moon cycles.  Numerous cultures celebrate the event in various ways on a diverse range of dates.  The more well-known of these include New Year’s Day (or week) of the Chinese calendar, the Tibetan calendar of East Asia, the Buddhist and Hindu calendars of Southeast and South Asia, the Islamic calendar, and the Jewish calendar that originated in the Middle East.

In Vietnam, the Lunar New Year is known as Tết.  It has Sino-Vietnamese origins, celebrating the arrival of spring according to the Vietnamese calendar, which usually falls in late January or early February.

In 1965, Tết began on 10 February; it celebrated the year of the snake.

Before Tết in 1965, South Vietnamese insurgents, known as the Viet Cong (VC), began a new phase of their war against the government of the Republic of Vietnam (RVN) by shifting from their classic hit-and-run tactics to mass assaults against the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN).  Their first salvo was devastating to the RVN because no one expected it and because its result produced heavy casualties to both ARVN and Vietnamese Marine Corps (VNMC) forces at Binh Gia (forty miles east of Saigon, RVN’s capital city).[1]  When mechanized and armored units attempted to reinforce the beleaguered ARVN forces at Binh Gia, the VC destroyed them.  This VC victory over ARVN military units created considerable political instability within the RVN government.

Warning Order

On January 21, 1965, Brigadier General Frederick J. Karch, U. S. Marine Corps, was assigned as the Assistant Division Commander, 3rd Marine Division (3rdMarDiv).  The following day, he was directed to assume command of the 9th Marine Expeditionary Brigade (9thMEB).  The MEB was a task-organized Marine Air-Ground task force formed around the 9th Marine Regiment (9th Marines) of the 3rdMarDiv.  The ground combat element included two battalion landing teams (BLTs).  The air combat element had two 1st Marine Aircraft Wing helicopter squadrons.  Both BLTs and air squadrons formed the Special Landing Force (SLF) of the Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) of the U. S. Seventh Fleet.

On January 22, 1965, General Karch was preparing for an amphibious landing in South Vietnam when the national command authority put a hold on the introduction of US combat forces to South Vietnam.  President Johnson was still “thinking” on February 7 when VC forces attacked the US installation at Pleiku in the central highlands.  This assault ended with the deaths of nine American soldiers, the injury of 128 military and civilian personnel, and the destruction of 129 US military aircraft.  The following day, the Marine Corps 1st Light Anti-aircraft Missile Battalion (1stLAAMBn) arrived at Da Nang, South Vietnam, with the mission of protecting the joint US-VNAF airfield in the event of an attack by the North Vietnamese air forces.[2]  Advanced elements of the battalion began arriving on February 8.

Meanwhile, as senior American military leaders and diplomats were “re-thinking” their commitment to South Vietnam (and consulting with South Vietnamese officials), the VC geared up for another assault, which materialized on February 11 at Qui Non.

The Commander of US Military Assistance Command, Vietnam (COMUSMACV), requested a 3-battalion Marine Expeditionary Brigade to provide a ground defense of the joint RVN/US air base at Da Nang.  President Lyndon B. Johnson approved MACV’s request on March 2, 1965.  BLT 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines (1//3) was almost immediately flown to Da Nang from Okinawa.  Additional elements of the 9thMEB began moving ashore on March 8.

The Special Landing Force (SLF) included BLTs 1/9 and 3/9 — both were serving at sea off South Vietnam’s coast under the overall authority of the Commander, U. S. Seventh Fleet.  The brigade’s air combat element was increased to include Marine Aircraft Group 16, which, while operating out of Da Nang Air Base, conducted support operations and combat air patrols for two months.

The birth of the III Marine Expeditionary Force (III MEF) occurred on May 7, 1965, when President Johnson approved the deployment of the 3rdMarDiv and 1stMAW to Da Nang.[3]  The first general to command III MEF was Major General William R. Collins, who concurrently served as Commanding General, 3rdMarDiv.  General Collins also served as Naval Component Commander, Vietnam.  With General Collins’s arrival in Vietnam, the 9thMEB was deactivated, and General Karch resumed his duty as Assistant Division Commander.  The 9th Marine Regiment folded back into the 3rdMarDiv.[4]

On background, the 3rdMarDiv was dispatched to the Far East in 1953 to support the 1st Marine Division (1stMarDiv), which was then engaged in the defense of South Korea (the Korean War), taking up station on the Island of Okinawa — where it remained until early 1965.

By the end of 1965, the entire 3rdMarDiv had relocated to Vietnam (including its command element, three infantry regiments, and all supporting combat and service support elements).  By March 1966, communist insurgents and regular North Vietnamese Army (NVA) units had learned there was a new sheriff in town.  What this meant in terms of combat was that (a) communist forces should think twice before shooting at US Marines, and (b) if they ever felt the need for a thorough ass-whipping, they could get one from the 3rd Marine Division.

Culturally, the Vietnamese have always allowed their sense of self-worth to interfere with basic common sense.  Accordingly, the 3rdMarDiv and its 24,000 cranky Marines parried several communist thrusts into the RVN’s northernmost provinces (designated as the I Corps Tactical Zone (also, I CTZ).  COMUSMACV directed the 3rdMarDiv to assume responsibility for the defense of I CTZ.[5]

By 1966, the 3rdMarDiv was the largest (ever) combat division in the Marine Corps.  It controlled five infantry regiments, one artillery regiment, all of its usual supporting elements, U. S. Army artillery units, Navy logistical support units (including Seabees), and two regiments of ARVN.  While the division was significantly reinforced, I Corps was an unbelievably large area to defend.  Quang Tri Province alone extended 1,800 miles in diameter.  Beyond its size, Quang Tri Province was marked by rugged terrain and impenetrable forests and bordered two hostile nations: Laos and North Vietnam.  U.S. Marines called it “Indian country.”[6]

In defending this terrain, the Marines operated under heavily restrictive rules of engagement imposed upon them by MACV.  Theater command didn’t want the Marines shooting “friendlies,” so U. S. Forces had first to encounter hostile fire before they could respond.  The problem was that a hefty percentage of the friendlies in Quang Tri Province were part-time hostiles — but it wouldn’t do to shoot innocents if you were also trying to pacify them.

It was a complicated war.

The importance of terrain is that it dictates the tactical employment of troops.  Given the size of the province and its thick canopied terrain (and other limiting factors), the 3rdMarDiv assigned its regiments to critical locations — each regimental commander with a unique tactical area of responsibility (TAOR).  High elevations frequently separated marine combat regiments, which affected the ability of the units to coordinate offensive and defensive operations and line-of-sight communications.  The thick canopy of dense jungles and severe weather patterns restricted ground and air operations.

The need for highway infrastructure restricted the rapid and unfettered movement of men and materials within Quang Tri Province.  There was one main north-south highway (Route 1).  It connected Marine operating bases at Dong Ha and Quang Tri City in the North to Phu Bai and Da Nang in the South.  The Cua Viet River in Quang Tri Province provided the 3rdMarDiv with its primary logistics artery.  The Cua Viet ran from its mouth into Dong Ha, where the river was as wide as a mountain pathway.

A second highway (Route 9) linked Dong Ha with Khe Sanh.  Eastward from Khe Sanh, 3rdMarDiv units established a series of outposts that offered a defense of Route 9 and the Cam Lo River Valley, which extends from Dong Ha to the coastal plain.  The critical outposts were Ca Lu (10 miles east of Khe Sanh), the Rockpile (a 700-foot outcrop 8 miles north), Camp Carroll (10 miles eastward), and Leatherneck Square (a quadrilateral region outlined by Cam Lo, Con Thien, Gio Linh, and Dong Ha).

The 3rdMarDiv’s defensive mission frustrated most senior commanders because (a) Marine Corps doctrine holds that the only reason for a defensive posture is to prepare for the next attack.  Static defense is not how the Marine Corps wins battles, and (b) even though the Marines defeated the enemy whenever they appeared, it was a costly strategy that the Marines could not sustain.  Static warfare imposed unacceptable casualties, and there was nothing to show for it.  The North Vietnamese were happy to fight a war of attrition, but no one wearing a Marine Corps uniform could understand Westmoreland’s willingness to pursue the same game plan.  Within the first year of Vietnam service, Marines suffered 5,000 casualties.

In 1967, Lieutenant General Victor H. Krulak, serving as the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Pacific, warned senior commanders in Vietnam that for the Marines to succeed, they must be allowed to wage war on their terms, not as part of a static defense scheme that subjected them to the will and dictates of the enemy.[7]  Marines, he argued, could be trusted to set their own rules of engagement consistent with their areas of responsibility.

The NVA had already demonstrated that it was willing to lose large numbers of men in exchange for a fewer number of ours — but over a sustained period, our losses would work against the interests of the American people.  North Vietnam wanted to drag the war out for as long as possible.  Marine commanders wanted to put an end to it.  Washington politicians (also known as America’s weak Willies), however, did not want a confrontation with North Vietnam’s primary ally, China.

General Krulak identified three options along the DMZ: (1) Withdraw the Marines further south, out of range of NVA artillery (which, while tactically sound, offered a propaganda victory to the NVA), (2) Invade North Vietnam (tactically and logistically challenging, and politically impossible), or (3) Reinforce the 3rdMarDiv, and intensify air and artillery bombardments of North Vietnam.  It was up to General Westmoreland to decide — the ball was in his court.

General Westmoreland had to agree with Krulak’s assessments, even to the extent of putting together a planning group to consider the feasibility of an amphibious landing north of the DMZ. However, this wasn’t how President Lyndon B. Johnson wanted to fight the war.  Westmoreland’s only political option was reinforcing the 3rdMarDiv with an Army brigade.  Doing so allowed the CG 3rdMarDiv to realign his force within the I CTZ.  Increased air, artillery, and naval gunfire support imposed significant losses on NVA forces north of the DMZ. It prompted the North Vietnamese command structure to rethink its long-term strategy.  Within a short time, while bureaucrats in Washington toyed with U. S. warfare doctrine, the NVA was preparing for a bloody confrontation.

McNamara’s Fiasco

Robert S. McNamara began serving as Secretary of Defense during the Kennedy administration in 1961; after John Kennedy’s assassination, President Lyndon B. Johnson retained him in that capacity.  Known as one of the “Whiz Kids,” McNamara was instrumental in reshaping Ford Motor Company to increase its American automobile industry market share.  He was also the genius behind Ford’s failed Edsel model.

In December 1965, McNamara met with former Kennedy-era National Security Council staff member Carl Kaysen.[8]  It was from Kaysen that McNamara developed his idea for an electric barrier to limit infiltration from North Vietnam.  The so-called McNamara line became a metaphor for Bob McNamara’s arbitrary, personal, and aggressive management style that tended to by-pass proven Defense protocols, ignored or rebuffed DoD experts, and preferred relying on technology rather than superbly trained members of the Armed Forces.[9]  In essence, senior military leaders either conformed to McNamara’s dictates, or they quite suddenly retired from active military service.

McNamara’s preference for untested technology led him to implement programs without full coordination among defense experts.  The only danger to this in peacetime is an extraordinary squandering of taxpayer resources.  In combat, lives are lost, and soldiers are critically or permanently injured.  Nevertheless, McNamara rejected every criticism of his policies and programs.[10]

Before 1965, the Department of Defense experimented with various schemes for defensive lines along South Vietnam’s northern border, at the DMZ and its border with Laos.  Defense experts rejected many of Kaysen’s ideas for two reasons.  First, to implement them, the United States would have to increase the number of its static positions, and second, because it would encourage the NVA to establish safe areas deeper inside Laos.[11]  Kaysen’s (later, McNamara’s) electronic wall would limit NVA infiltration into South Vietnam.  From his meeting with Kaysen, McNamara ordered a feasibility study involving several science technologists.

McNamara’s panel provided their conclusions in March 1966.  He passed their proposals to the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) for comments.  The JCS was lukewarm on the idea.  Creating an electronic barrier, they argued, would still require a large number of troops and cost a large sum of money.  Moreover, the project would cause potentially insurmountable logistical challenges.  JCS members may have wondered if McNamara had heard of Hadrian’s Wall (122-138 AD).

Secretary McNamara then turned to a federally funded research study group (the JASON Group) for their assessment.  These individuals supported the notion of a barrier wall primarily because, in their opinion, President Johnson’s air campaign over North Vietnam was an utter failure.  The JASON Group thought it would be a good idea to create two barrier systems — the first along the southern edge of the DMZ and another along South Vietnam’s western border with Laos.  Electronic signals, they argued, could trigger air interdiction and remotely controlled minefields.  Moreover, they added, the system could be in place within a year.

McNamara sent the JASON Group’s proposal to the JCS for additional consideration.  Except for JCS Chairman General Earle Wheeler, every JCS member rejected the idea.  Wheeler nevertheless sent the recommendation to Admiral U. S. G. Sharp, Commander, U. S. Pacific, for his review.  Admiral Sharp concluded that the plan, at best, was impractical.  Amazingly, General Westmoreland agreed with Admiral Sharp.

Ignoring this advice, McNamara took his plan to President Johnson, recommending approval.  The price tag was around $2.5 billion ($23.7 billion in 2024).  McNamara’s scheme had several code names.  At first, it was named PRACTICE NINE; it later changed to ILLINOIS CITY and then to PROJECT DYE MARKER.  In early 1967, Marine Corps engineers began bulldozing a strip of land 500 meters wide from Gio Linh westward to Con Thien.

At the beginning of 1968, the western end of McNamara’s wall, from Khe Sanh through the Special Forces camp at Lang Vei, which was still under construction, was attacked by NVA forces.  The NVA overran Lang Vei and established a siege of Khe Sanh.  The Battle of Khe Sanh lasted 77 days.  General Creighton W. Abrams, Westmoreland’s newly arrived replacement, ordered Khe Sanh abandoned in July.  He also ordered the destruction of all infrastructure along Route 9 toward Laos, including all bridges and roads.  In October, all work relating to DYE MARKER ceased.  Instead, Abrams ordered McNamara’s wall converted into fortifications and support bases for his new strategy: mobile operations.  McNamara’s Wall quickly became known as McNamara’s Folly.  Significantly, the entire episode with McNamara’s line diverted Marine combat units from their traditional role of beating the enemy to a pulp.  Casualties mounted.

A Confusing Structure

During the summer and fall of 1966, the NVA initiated two major thrusts across the DMZ.  III MAF realigned around 10,000 Marines to meet these new threats.  In October, Major General Wood B. Kyle, Commanding General, 3rdMarDiv, assumed operational control of all U. S. Forces operating in Quang Tri and Thua Thien provinces.  He moved his command post from Da Nang to Phu Bai, north of the Hai Van Mountains, which separated the two northern provinces of I Corps from the three remaining southern provinces.  The main Marine force in Quang Tri Province consisted of seven (of 18 available) battalions.[12]

At the same time, the 1stMarDiv, under Major General Herman Nickerson, moved its CP from Chu Lai to Da Nang.  Nickerson left Brigadier General William A. Stiles in charge of Task Force X-Ray at Chu Lai.  X-Ray was a brigade-size force of four battalions between Quang Tri and Quang Ngai.  In addition to the two Marine battalions in Quang Ngai, Brigadier General Run Sang Kim of the South Korean Marine Corps commanded three ROK Marine battalions.[13]

To any average person, the organizational structure of Marine Corps combat units in Vietnam would be confusing and nonsensical, but the fluid nature of nonlinear warfare in Vietnam caused senior commanders to view individual battalions as their primary maneuver elements (rather than regiments, which traditionally controlled subordinate battalions).  Task organization took on new meaning when separate battalions from the 3rd Marine Regiment (for example) were operationally assigned to other command elements.  A battalion of the 7th Marines might be attached to the 4th Marines for a specific purpose or length of time (such as a combat operation).  Another contributing factor was the implementation of battalion rotations between Vietnam and Okinawa.  Whenever a battalion from the 3rd Marines was rotated out of Vietnam for rest and refit, another battalion would rotate in to take its place — one perhaps from the 9th Marines.

To further confuse the casual observer, the U. S. Seventh Fleet exercised authority over an Amphibious Ready Group (ARG), which, after March 1966, included the 9th MAB as part of the Special Landing Force (SLF) (See also Note 2).  The SLF could be deployed as part of U. S. Seventh Fleet operations, operating independently from the forces under III MAF, or it could be employed to reinforce III MAF units if necessary.

Air support for Marines in the I CTZ was provided by the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing (1stMAW), elements of which occupied airfields at Da Nang, Chu Lai, Phu Bai, Marble Mountain, and Ky Ha.  Fixed-wing units operated from Da Nang and Chu Lai; helicopter squadrons were distributed among all five.

Finally, ARVN units operated independently but in close coordination with III MAF.  The ARVN I Corps consisted of the 1st ARVN Division (Hue City), 2nd ARVN Division (Quang Ngai), the independent 51st Regiment (Quang Nam), a ranger group, and three battalions of Vietnamese Marines (temporarily attached) moved throughout I CTZ.  The total Vietnamese force included 34 battalions.  Regional and Popular (territorial reserve) forces augmented the ARVN I Corps.  The number of South Vietnamese forces assigned to I Corps was 77,000 combat troops.

The Bottom Line

From the beginning of the United States’ involvement in Vietnam in 1945, when U. S. politicians imagined that it would be prudent to assist post-World War II France in reclaiming its Indochinese colonies —even though the Vietnamese people had had enough of the Frenchman’s abuse, the thinking of highly placed American officials was deeply flawed.

The problem for President Harry S. Truman was that the individual who first proclaimed Vietnam’s independence from France, a man calling himself Ho Chi Minh, was a committed communist.  Truman concluded that supporting a brutal French colony was preferable to the creation of a  new communist (nationalist) state and ignored Ho Chi Minh.  It never entered Truman’s mind that a gently guiding capitalist hand might have moved Minh toward the center of his idealistically socialist goals.  Neither Truman nor anyone in his administration anticipated that if Ho Chi Minh could not obtain support for Vietnamese independence from the United States, he could get it from China … after the Chinese Revolution (1945-1949).  China threw its support behind Vietnam in July 1950 and began transforming North Vietnamese insurgents into a regular army.

French colonial forces battled the communists through 1954 before their overwhelming defeat at Dien Binh Phu.  It was time for the French to withdraw from Vietnam, but who would take France’s place?  Eisenhower, who replaced Truman, acknowledged the United States’ commitment to support a non-communist state in Vietnam but opposed any American ground effort except for the participation of military and civilian political advisors supporting the Republic of Vietnam.  President Kennedy expanded the role of military advisors but opposed direct military involvement.  It wasn’t until after President Lyndon B. Johnson concocted the story of a North Vietnamese attack on a U. S. destroyer that a surge in American air, ground, and naval involvement took shape.  By then, the United States had spent tens of billions of dollars supporting a corrupt and thoroughly inept political structure in South Vietnam.

Still, one must wonder how, after investing so many lives, so much money, time, and effort into “defending” South Vietnam, the United States could lose a war when it had so many advantages.  Nearly 3 million Americans served in Vietnam.  In addition to 1.4 million South Vietnamese forces, the United States was also assisted by South Korea (320,000), Australia (50,190), New Zealand (3,500), Laos (72.000), Cambodia (200,000), The Philippines (2,061), and Thailand (32,000).  Casualty rates were extraordinary: allied military forces experienced 392,365 dead and nearly 2 million wounded in action. Almost 4 million Vietnamese civilians were killed, 400,000 Cambodian civilians and 62,000 Laotian civilians lost their lives, as well.  There were so many troops, such utter defeat, and David Berger wanted to attack China with 28 battalions of U.S. Marines.  God help us!

There are several explanations for America’s failure, not the least of which was its failure to maintain the moral high ground from the beginning of World War II.  American politicians during this period were not our “best and brightest.”  They still aren’t.  Presidents responsible for that bloody war were near-sighted, closed-minded, immoral, vain, and malfeasant.  The American diplomatic corps was inept; high-ranking political appointees were incompetent — few to none ever having served in uniform — they decided they could run the war from inside the Beltway.  Over time, these know-nothings decided they knew more than our military professionals.  Among those military careerists, far too many put their promotions ahead of their sacred duty.

It was a complicated war, easily avoided if only the American voter had made better choices for their national leaders.  North Vietnam’s celebrated military leader, Võ Nguyên Giáp, later wrote that no one was more surprised than he when American politicians suddenly withdrew their armed forces from South Vietnam.  The US Military had won all the battles, North Vietnam could no longer sustain such huge battle losses, and it was only a matter of time before the United States and RVN could claim victory.  But, of course, the politicians in Congress knew best.  America’s defeat was political, not military.  Even now, wise voting is not one of America’s strong points.

Sources:

  1. Berman, L.  Lyndon Johnson’s War: The Road to Stalemate in Vietnam. New York: Norton & Company, 1989.
  2. Eisenhower, D. D.  Mandate for Change.  Doubleday, 1963.
  3. Fall, B. B.  The Two Viet Nams: A Political and Military Analysis.  New York: Praeger, 1967.
  4. Giap, V. N.  Military Art of People’s War: Selected Writings.  New York: Monthly Review Press, 1970.
  5. Karnow, S.  Vietnam: A History.  New York: Penguin Books, 1997 (second edition).
  6. Shulimson, J. And Charles M. Johnson.  U. S. Marines in Vietnam: The Landing and the Buildup, 1965.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1978.
  7. Telfer, G. L. and Lane Rogers (et. al.)  U. S. Marines in Vietnam: Fighting the North Vietnamese, 1967.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1984.

Endnotes:

[1] After the Vietnam War, the Communist victors renamed the city after their revolutionary leader, Ho Chi Minh.

[2] VNAF = South Vietnam Air Force

[3] US Marines are an expeditionary force.  The original designation of the task-organized force was III Marine Expeditionary Force. However, this designation was temporarily changed at the request of General Westmoreland to III Marine Amphibious Force (and for similar reasons, 9thMEB was redesignated 9thMAB).  Given their history of foreign expeditionary occupations (1887-1954), the word expeditionary offended Vietnamese sensitivities.

[4] 9thMAB reactivated on 1 March 1966 on Okinawa; its new mission was to serve as the Special Landing Force (SLF) of the U. S. Seventh Fleet.  In this capacity, 9thMAB exercised operational authority over Regimental Landing Team (RLT) 5 (formed around the 5th Marines (a 1stMarDiv regiment), BLT 2/5, and service support elements of the 1st Service Battalion.  Its air element was MAG-13.  In the spring of 1966, RLT-5 was relieved by RLT-26.  Throughout the war, the 9thMAB was instrumental in destroying VC regiments and elements of NVA infantry divisions operating in the Thua Thien Province as part of Operation Deckhouse.

[5] COMUSMACV was General William C. Westmoreland (1914-2005).  Westmoreland foolishly adopted the NVA’s strategy of a war of attrition.  He served as COMUSMACV from 1964-68 and then as U. S. Army Chief of Staff until his retirement in 1972.  In fairness to General Westmoreland, his failed strategy in Vietnam was imposed on him by Washington politicians and bureaucrats — he simply lacked the moral courage to do the right thing irrespective of any political consequences.  In my view, Westmoreland was under no obligation to obey presidential orders that he found unconscionable.  Since Westmoreland became President Johnson’s lackey, we can only infer that he intentionally placed his career ahead of the welfare of his men.

[6] Offensive and defensive combat operations are limited by weather and terrain.  These factors are more important than any other physical elements (equipment, communications, weapons, resupply).  See also U. S. Army Field Manual 100-5 (Operations).

[7] FMFPAC (1941-Present) is the world’s most significant maritime landing force.  The general officer commanding reports to the Commander, U. S. Pacific, and exercises command authority over all subordinate commands of the Navy/Marine Corps expeditionary units operating in the Pacific, from California to the Far East.  During the Vietnam War, CG FMFPac did not exercise operational control over Marines in Vietnam.  Still, he did have something to say about how the Marines were employed within COMUSMACV’s theater of operations.

[8] Kaysen was an academic policy advisory and international security specialist at MIT who co-chaired the Committee on International Security Studies at the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.  What Kaysen knew about warfighting wouldn’t fill a thimble.  Why he had any credibility with Kennedy, Johnson, or McNamara is anyone’s guess.

[9] This same inane thinking destroyed the Central Intelligence Agency’s human intelligence capability, preferring to rely, instead, on satellite technology.  This, too, was a fiasco with long-term consequences.

[10] This is why presidential elections matter.  The President appoints his cabinet, unelected men who make momentous decisions impacting the welfare of the American people.  We should know who presidential candidates are considering for high level l cabinet posts before we elect them to the presidency.  Who in their right mind would have voted for John F. Kennedy knowing that he intended to appoint, as Secretary of Defense, the man who gave them Edsel?

[11] Pro-technology advocates believed that constructing such a wall would serve the long-term interests of South Vietnam after US forces had been withdrawn.  Such a belief was part of the fallacy U. S. Officials cultivated about the mission assigned to the American armed forces operating in Vietnam.  Everyone was told that the role of our military was to defend South Vietnam from the aggression of North Vietnam.  This fallacy may have morphed into the truth of our Vietnam experience — after the assassination of South Vietnam’s president, Ngo Dinh Diem — but it was always Diem’s long-term goal to unify Vietnam (conquer North Vietnam) under his leadership.  Diem’s goal, therefore, was almost identical to that of North Vietnamese leader Ho Chi Minh, albeit in reverse.  Every succeeding president of South Vietnam had but one goal: to enrich themselves at the American taxpayer’s expense.

[12] Between 2019 and 2023, while serving as Commandant of the Marine Corps, General David Berger directed training and equipping 28 infantry battalions to confront the Chinese People’s Liberation Army and Navy (PLAN).  First, land warfare is not the mission of the U.S. Marine Corps.  Berger must also not have been aware that 18 battalions were insufficient to defeat the much smaller North Vietnamese Army.  Dolt.

[13] the Republic of Korea (South Korea) contributed substantially to the Allied war effort during the Vietnam conflict.  The Korean Marine Corps Blue Dragon Brigade served with distinction in ICTZ, the Fierce Tiger Mechanized Infantry Division, ROK Army, served in Binh Dinh Province (7,652 officers, 107,340 enlisted men), and the ROK Army 9th Infantry Division, served in the Phu Yen, Tuy Hoa, and Khanh Hoa provinces (6,445 officers and 98,891 enlisted men.  I cannot speak to the performance of the Korean Army units, but the Korean Marines put the fear of God into NVA and VC troops in equal measure.  The Korean Marines didn’t play fair.    

Locating the Enemy

— and destroying him.

At the beginning of August 1950, the North Korean People’s Army (NKPA) had been in South Korea for thirty-six days.  Within that time, the 75,000-man invasion force had pushed the South Korean Army and a few American advisory units into Pusan, South Korea, a major port city on the southeast coast of South Korea.  The US Army had tried to halt the NKPA advance, but the effort failed, and the units, thrown in from their base in Japan, were soon destroyed.  The South Korean people were badly frightened, and — at least so far in the war — the United States and South Korean government had done nothing to give them confidence. 

Every day, thousands of refugees streamed into Pusan, seeking the protection of United Nations forces.  They brought with them what they knew, what they had seen with their own eyes, and what they had heard from others about the resounding defeat of American and South Korean military units.  They knew about the soldiers who had run away from the NKPA, who had dropped their weapons and surrendered, only to be shot down in cold blood.  The fear among the people was palpable.  According to one eye-witness in Pusan, one could almost smell the fear in the people — a peculiar odor that seemed to worsen with each passing day.

But then, a remarkable and easily observable transition took place.  On the evening of 2 August, ships began to arrive from the United States carrying a brigade of United States Marines and all their equipment.  On the morning of 3 August, the American Marines started unloading their combat equipment.  The Marines soon formed on the pier.  Close to 5,000 men dressed in field uniforms with field transport packs on their backs.  They held their weapons at rest along their right side.

A color guard stood in front of the formation; two riflemen stood guard over the United States Flag and the Marine Corps battle standard.  If any of the young Marines standing in formation behind the color guard were fearful, it wasn’t reflected in their demeanor or facial expressions.  South Korean observers noted this, and “the word” quickly spread throughout the city.

The average age of these young Marines was 19 ½ years.  They came from the same land as the other youngsters, who had been fighting in South Korea since early July — and thoroughly defeated by a numerically superior, well-trained, well-armed, and determined enemy.  The poorly trained, poorly led, unresolved, and highly fearful soldier was easily defeated.  In some cases, they threw their weapons away and surrendered.  Korean refugees reported seeing the bodies of dozens of young men lying alongside the dusty roads, their hands tied behind them and murdered in cold blood.  But these young Marines seemed different, somehow.  They exuded confidence.  They did not arrive in South Korea to die but to locate their enemy.

As the Marines were in the process of assembling on the pier, the Commanding General, 1st (Provisional) Marine Brigade, Brigadier General Edward A. Craig, U. S. Marine Corps, met with his senior staff, which included the Commanding Officer, 5th Marine Regiment, and the Commanding Officer, Marine Aircraft Group -33.  He finalized his order with a strict warning:

“The Pusan perimeter is like a weakened dike; the Army intends to use us to plug the holes as they open.  We’re a brigade —a fire brigade.  It will be costly fighting against a numerically superior enemy.  Marines have never lost a battle; this brigade will not be the first to establish such a precedent.  Prepare to move.”

Within an hour, U.S. Marines marched smartly toward a small town named Chang-won.  Chang-won was a dedicated assembly point for elements of the Eighth US Army’s Reserve.

Before the arrival of the Marine Brigade, General Walton Walker, commanding the Eighth US Army, prepared a plan for the United States’ first counteroffensive in the Korean War.  Walker’s idea was to use reserve elements to initiate a thrust toward Chinju through Masan, which was in the hands of the NKPA 6th Infantry Division.  In this way, Walker would force the NKPA to divert some of its forces to confront the reserve while he continued building up his main force.  Once achieving this objective, Walker intended to initiate an even more significant push to the Kum River.  Still, his main thrust would depend upon the arrival in Korea of the US 2nd Infantry Division.

Walker believed his greatest threat was the NKPA 6th Infantry Division, a well-disciplined, supremely confident combat unit with a history of defeating American forces ever since the NKPA invasion of South Korea.  The enemy division was centered in the town of Chinju.  What Walker didn’t know was that the 6th NKPA Division was also preparing for offensive operations.  The NKPA intended to strike the southwestern corner of the Pusan perimeter and capture the town of Masan, 35 miles from Pusan.

Walker’s attack force would form around the US 25th Infantry Division (25 ID), known as Task Force (TF) Kean — after the 25th’s commanding general, William B. Kean.  The division’s regiments included the 27th Infantry Regiment (27 INF), 35th Infantry Regiment (35 INF) 5th Regimental Combat Team (and subordinate units) (5 RCT)[1] and the 1st Marine Brigade (1stMarBde).  Altogether, TF Kean would consist of about 20,000 troops.

Walker’s plan called for TF Kean to kick off operations in the area of Masan, South Korea, with his objectives including the seizure of Chinju from the NKPA 6th Infantry Division.  This would be followed by a larger push to the Kum River by mid-August.  A secondary objective was to divert NKPA units from the Naktong to areas south of Masan.

TF Kean initiated its assault on 7 August.  At the Notch, a northern pass into the city and site of a previous battle, the 35 INF encountered stiff resistance but ultimately defeated 850 NKPA forces.  Kean’s force overran the NKPA 6th Division’s command post, but the Korean division was well trained and nearly fanatical in its own defense.  Remarkably, the NKPA initiated an offensive of their own at about the same time and the two attacking forces clashed.  As the American attack slowed and then stalled, Kean radioed General Craig and gave him operational command of the forward-most units.  General Craig and Colonel Raymond L. Murray, Commanding the 5th Marine Regiment, were relentless in taking the battle to the NKPA despite war-stopping weather.  Relying on Marine Aircraft to dislodge the enemy and air resupply to sustain the offensive, heavy fighting continued for three days.  By 9 August, TF Kean was poised to take Chinju.

On 10 August, Lieutenant Colonel Robert D. Taplett[2], Commanding the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines (3/5), knocked on the enemy’s door at Kosong.  With radio in hand, he contacted the 1st Battalion, 11th Marines (1/11) and requested a fire mission.  The artillery Marines responded by delivering a lethal salvo of 105mm howitzer fire.  Inside the village, an NKPA motorized regiment panicked and made a mad dash for safety.  The enemy probably acted rationally, but it was a huge mistake.  Overhead, combat aircraft from VMF-323[3] were searching for targets of opportunity.

Looking down from his cockpit flight leader Major Arnold A. Lund witnessed around a hundred vehicles of the NKPA 83rd Motorcycle Regiment (including jeeps and troop-carrying trucks), dashing off down the road leading out of Kosong.  Lund’s Corsairs screamed downward from cruising altitude to strafe the entire length of the column.  The effect of the Marine air attack was akin to the proverbial Chinese Fire Drill.  Korean vehicles zigzagged and crashed into one another and ran off the road into a ditch to get out of the way of Marine Corps aircraft.  The NKPA’s Soviet­-made jeeps and motorcycles were sitting ducks for F4U aircraft, which worked their targets with rocket or 20-mm fire.  After the Marine aircraft had set about 40 vehicles on fire, another flight from VMF-323 arrived, and they were, in turn, followed by USAF F-51s, which put the icing on the cake and the NKPA lost an entire regiment.

The Marine aviators didn’t walk away unscathed.  Two of the lead Corsairs were badly damaged in the initial attack and had to make emergency landings.  Lieutenant Doyle Cole ditched into the bay at the very­-moment General Craig was making a tour of the battle area in a helicopter.  Craig operated the hoist that pulled Doyle out of the water to safety.  Captain Vivian Moses was not as fortunate.  While putting his aircraft down in enemy territory, he was thrown unconscious from the cockpit and drowned in a rice paddy moments before a rescue bird reached his position.  He was the first Marine aviator from MAG-33 killed in the Korean War.[4]

After securing the village of Kosong, 3/5 resumed its attack toward Sachon and soon came upon the scene of chaos left by the F4U’s.  Some of these vehicles were undamaged but wisely abandoned by the NKPA.  Taplett’s Marines were suitably impressed by the motorcycles and sidecars; they noted that the sleek black Russian jeeps were nearly identical to American jeeps.  Curious Marines found the jeeps to contain Ford engines — provided to the Russians under Franklin D. Roosevelt’s lend-lease program of World War II.[5]

The air assault at Kosong was a dramatic example of the capabilities of the Marine Air-Ground Team.  MAG-33 aircraft were constantly in the sky above Marine ground units.  Marine Corps pilots, trained as infantry officers, were relentlessly aware of the ground game; MAG-33 made its aircraft available to the grunts on short notice.  Rendering close air support (CAS) isn’t simple, but it is effective in killing and demoralizing an enemy.  With VMF-214 and VMF-323 based on separate aircraft carriers, combat aircraft could arrive on station with more fuel and ordnance than Air Force missions flying in from Japan.  Overall control of tactical air operations in Korea fell under the Fifth Air Force, of course, but Marine tactical air operations were integrated with a priority support for Marine ground forces.  Other United Nations forces also benefitted from Marine air, but at a lower priority.

Within the Brigade, Tactical Air Control Parties were placed within each battalion, with a regimental TACP exercising overall coordination.  Each TACP consisted of an officer and six enlisted men.  They were equipped with radio-jeeps, portable radios, and other equipment.  General Craig’s headquarters had an air section that planned and advised the brigade commander in matters of tactical use of aircraft.

Company H, 3/5 (also, “How Company”) (letter designated companies used a phonetic alphabet to ensure easily understood radio communications[6]) led the attack into Sachon; M-26 (Pershing) tanks led the way as reconnaissance by fire.  At around 18:00 hours, after Taplett’s column had covered several miles, a lone enemy machine gun in a valley on the left of the battalion’s front wounded three Marines, temporarily holding up the battalion’s advance.  By the time Marine tanks had silenced the enemy machine gun, it was growing dark.  Taplett decided to halt his advance.  He set his battalion in on two hills north of the road.  The Marines prepared their defensive perimeter and settled in for the night.  All the Marines could talk about was the Marine air attack on the NKPA motorized regiment and what a waste of good motorcycles it was.

Offshore and paralleling Taplett’s advance was a Landing Ship Tank (LST) manned by a team from Major William L. Batchelor’s Company A, 1st Shore Party Battalion.[7]  Batchelor’s Marines set up supply stations along the Main Supply Route (MSR) in order to keep the ground-pounders supplied with food stores, ammunition, and medical supplies.  The LST also served the Marines as a makeshift hospital ship manned by Company C, 1st Medical Battalion.  For the first time in Marine Corps history helicopters were used in evacuating wounded Marines to the field medical facilities.

As Taplett settled his battalion into a night defense, NKPA forces were in disarray.   For the first time since the North Korean invasion began, an American counterattack not only stopped the enemy’s advance, but it also sent them into a full retreat.  On the morning of 12 August, Taplett’s Marines were but a day’s march from Sachon.  The Army’s 5th Regimental Combat Team (5th RCT) moved in the same direction north along the Chinju route where, although enemy opposition had been light, the RCT’s advance was slow due to several factors, which included streams of refugees constricting primitive roadways.[8]

General Craig anticipated stiffening enemy resistance and passed his concerns along to the senior officers of the Brigade.  Events proved General Craig correct.  Colonel Raymond L. Murray, Commanding Officer of the 5th Marines, was an outstanding combat commander who understood that by demanding aggressive behavior from his battalion commanders and placing unrelenting pressure on the enemy, he would reduce the number of his regiment’s casualties.  Within the next 48 hours, the brigade would carry out one of the most astonishing operations in the history of the Marine Corps: simultaneous battalion assaults, in opposite directions, on two fronts, twenty-five miles apart.

But there was no hint of these developments at 06:30 on 12 August 1950 when LtCol George R. Newton’s 1/5 passed through LtCol Taplett’s 3/5 with the continuing mission to seizing Sachon.  The countryside was quiet when 1/5 stepped off.  Too quiet.  Veteran NCOs grumbled to themselves; the enemy was up to something — but what?

The Brigade Recon Company took the battalion point under Captain Kenneth J. Houghton.  Captain John L. Tobin’s Company B followed Houghton.  Two M-24[9] tanks were placed in line between the 1st and 2nd platoons of Company B.  Three more tanks followed Company B.  There was no hint of an enemy presence.  The unnatural calm lasted nearly five hours as Newton’s Marines advanced eleven miles.  At noon, Sachon was only four miles further down the road.

Captain Houghton and his Marines rounded a bend in the road leading into the thatched-hut village of Changchon and immediately spotted two enemy soldiers scrambling for cover in the distance.  When several Marines opened fire, a well-concealed enemy responded with a massive amount of automatic weapons fire from both sides of the road.

The NKPA’s apparent plan was to wait until the entire Marine column had entered their killing zone, but Marine rifle fire spooked enemy machine gunners into a premature response.  Captain Tobin quickly dispatched his first platoon to reinforce Houghton.  First Lieutenant Hugh C. Schryver led his men forward along the roadside ditches at the cost of three casualties but successfully reinforced Houghton’s small reconnaissance detachment.  Tobin then deployed his second platoon under First Lieutenant David L. Taylor to move up behind the three tanks.  The tanks were unable to maneuver off the road because of the possibility that they would become bogged down in adjacent rice paddies, but as mobile fortresses, they provided some protection to the grunts and added firepower to the forward element.

NKPA fire from the hill on the right pinned down the balance of Tobin’s third platoon and the headquarters section.  LtCol Newton requested that the battalion air controller, First Lieutenant James W. Smith, call for an air strike to suppress or neutralize the enemy ambush.  Mortar and artillery crews began setting up their weapons in hastily selected positions, but Newton wasn’t looking for a protracted fight; he needed overwhelming fire, and he needed it sooner rather than later.  Marine Air was the only external supporting arm available.  After the Corsairs attacked Hill 250, Tobin ordered Second Lieutenant David R. Cowling to lead his third platoon into an attack on the hill.  Newton ordered Company A to dispatch a rifle platoon and a machine gun section to seize Hill 301 (on the right side of the roadway).

As Cowling’s platoon began its movement across an open rice paddy, enemy automatic weapons laid down a murderous crossfire forcing Cowling and his men to withdraw.  Tank and mortar fire had scant effect on the enemy guns.  Cowling lost one Marine killed, and four others seriously wounded.

Company A’s platoon occupied Hill 301 without encountering NKPA resistance.  Smith advised Newton that the overhead aircraft had five minutes remaining on station.  Newton requested that the aircraft engage targets of opportunity along the road to Changchon, which resulted in a repetition of the Kosong turkey shoot, albeit on a smaller scale.  The aviators destroyed a convoy of enemy reinforcements rushing forward to engage Newton’s battalion.

While Lieutenant Cowling withdrew to the base of Hill 301, Newton ordered Captain John R. Stevens, Commanding Able Company, to secure the high ground on the right side of the road with the rest of his men.  Hill 250 was the center of NKPA resistance.  Mortar crews delivered 115 rounds on the enemy’s suspected positions.  Following a second air strike, enemy guns fell silent.  Tobin’s remaining two platoons supported Houghton’s force on the left.  Artillery augmented Marine rifle fire, and one enemy position after another was systematically targeted and eliminated.  Colonel Newton called for three additional air strikes, which allowed Tobin’s 1st and 2nd platoons to cross the road and attack the enemy’s positions.

When Lieutenant Taylor spotted an enemy formation approaching the crest of Hill 202 from the reverse slope, he dispatched Technical Sergeant F. J. Lischeski with a squad of Marines to welcome them to the party.  Lischeski ordered his Marines to hold fire until the enemy was within 75 feet.  The enemy unit was eliminated.  Of the 39 men in the NKPA ambush detachment, 38 died instantly; the remaining survivor died from his wounds a short time later.

With darkness approaching, Tobin ordered his company into a night defense.  Colonel Newton suspected that an NKPA force remained behind to provide security for what remained of the withdrawing 6th NKPA Infantry Division and remnants of the 83rd Motorized Regiment.  At the end of the day, Newton had lost three Marines killed and 13 wounded.  Newton orchestrated the evacuation of his casualties by road, protected by tanks.  Newton’s response to the NKPA ambush was an excellent demonstration of a Marine infantry battalion’s lethality.

Mission Redirect

While Newton engaged the enemy at Changchon, Brigadier General Craig received another hot potato.  General Kean ordered Craig to provide a reinforced infantry battalion back to Chindong-ni.  Kean reported that the situation was critical; NKPA forces had penetrated and overran three batteries of artillery.  Kean expected the Marines to move immediately because the MSR was in grave danger of being cut.  A Marine counterattack was needed “now.”  General Kean advised Craig, “The assault into Sachon is no longer a priority.”

At nightfall, Newton expected to lead his weary battalion into Sachon early the following day.  However, at midnight on 12 August, Colonel Murray[10] radioed Newton and ordered him to prepare to move by truck at 0630 to a new sector.

Endnotes:

[1] The 5RCT was a heavily reinforced regiment consisting of the US 5th Infantry Regiment, 555th Field Artillery Battalion, 72nd Engineer Company, 5th Tank Company, a heavy mortar company, 5th Medical Company, and the 5th Aviation Section. 

[2] Bob Taplett (1918-2004) served with distinction as a Marine officer for twenty years, serving in World War II and the Korean War.  He was awarded the Navy Cross and two awards of the Silver Star medal in recognition of his courage under fire.  Retiring in 1960, Taplett authored an autobiography titled Darkhorse Six, published in 2003.

[3] See also: Death Rattlers.

[4] On the previous day, Moses had been shot down and rescued behind enemy lines.  Despite this harrowing experience, Moses volunteered to fly the mission on 11 August.

[5] It is bad enough to have to face a determined enemy but having to confront them with weapons made in the United States adds insult to injury.

[6] For example, in 1950, the phonetic alphabet for A, B, C, D, and E was Able, Baker, Charlie, Dog, and Easy.  To standardize the phonetic alphabet among Allied radiophone spellings, again for clarity and consistency, the phonetic alphabet was later changed to Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, and Echo.  How Company later became Hotel Company.

[7] A Marine shore party battalion were mostly task organized units, the size and makeup of which depended on their assigned mission.  Battalion strengths ranged from 273 Marines and 8 Navy medical personnel to 567 Marines and 19 corpsmen.  The battalion’s table of organization called for an H&S Company and three letter designated companies.  The letter companies were cargo handlers moving necessary supplies from sea to shore or from air terminal to the forward edge of the battle area (FEBA).

[8] Civilian refugees are “war stoppers” for several reasons.  Not only do American commanders avoid civilian casualties whenever possible, according to the law of land warfare, but large groups of refugees interrupt the flow of military traffic and enemy infiltrators use these groups to get behind American lines to sabotage and disrupt main supply routes (MSRs).

[9] The M-24 Chaffee light tank fielded a 75mm gun and a .50 caliber Browning machine gun.  The 75mm gun was insufficient in knocking out the Russian made T-34 medium tank.

[10] Major General Raymond L. Murray (1913-2004) was a highly decorated officer who earned two Navy Cross medals, one during World War II and one during the Korean War.  During World War II, he participated in the battles for Guadalcanal, Tarawa, and Saipan.  In Korea, he served in the Pusan Perimeter, Inchon, the Second Battle of Seoul, and the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir.  He was also awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, four Silver Star medals, the Legion of Merit, and the Purple Heart Medal.  General Murray retired from the Marine Corps in 1968.  I met General Murray on several occasions.  He was always cordial, and once we met, he never forgot your name or when he had last spoken to you.  Semper Fi, General.

Voyage into Hell

Japan assaulted the Philippine Islands beginning on 8 December 1941.  American and Philippine Army troops defended the island through May 8, 1942.  The Japanese invasion came from the sea, from staging locations on Formosa (Taiwan) island.  In raw numbers, Philippine defenders outnumbered the Japanese invaders 3:2 — but the defense force was a mixed force of inexperienced regulars, national guards, constabularies, and untrained and highly disorganized commonwealth units.  The Japanese employed top-tier troops and concentrated their efforts on attainable objectives.  They massed their forces and swiftly overran most of the island of Luzon in the first thirty days.

But the Japanese field command had made a serious mistake.  Believing they had defeated the Americans, Japanese commanders redirected their best divisions for an assault on Borneo.  Meanwhile, American and Filipino forces withdrew to Bataan, where they formed defensive works.  Doing so enabled the fledgling allied force to hold out for another four months.  The defensive strategy allowed the U.S. Navy to reorganize and regroup its fleet after Pearl Harbor.

Japan’s conquest of the Philippine Islands is often spoken about as the worst military defeat in America’s short history.  Perhaps this is true — but it wasn’t because the men on the ground weren’t trying their best.  It was simply that their best wasn’t good enough.  In 1942, the Imperial Japanese Army killed or captured 23,000 U.S. military personnel and around 100,000 Philippine soldiers.

Beginning in April 1942, after three months of intense fighting at Bataan, the Japanese organized their prisoners for an overland march to several P.O.W. sites.  The Japanese did not have unlimited resources in the Philippines, and they were not prepared for the massive number of prisons suddenly demanding their attention and logistical support.  American and Philippine troops were moved from Saysain Point, Bagac, Bataan, and Mariveles to Camp O’Donnell, Capas, and Tarlac via San Fernando.

The Japanese forced their prisoners, many of whom were malnourished, suffering from malaria and other diseases, and some who were wounded, to trudge 65 miles in unbearable heat.  The Japanese did not care whether these prisoners survived the march — and between 5,000 and 18,000 Filipinos and around 650 Americans didn’t.  The rules were simple: any American falling to the ground would be instantly killed.

One of the men serving in Manilla when the Japanese seized the islands was John M. Jacobs.  Jacobs was taken prisoner in 1942.  Assigned to the Bilibid Prison, Jacobs and his fellow prisoners perform hard labor under the front sight of Japanese weapons.  When the Allied forces prepared to retake the Philippines in 1944, the Japanese began moving their prisoners to POW camps in Japan.  After herding American prisoners aboard Japanese cargo ships, where they were confined to dark holds, they were moved to the home islands.  These ships routinely carried supplies, weapons, and munitions to Japan’s forward bases, which made them primary targets for Allied aircraft and submarines.  Jacobs ended up on the Oryoku Maru.

Being placed aboard a Japanese ship was a frightful experience.  The holds were packed so tightly with men that some men, already suffering from disease and psychological trauma, could not breathe.  Panicked men began fighting and biting other prisoners.  To escape the melee, prisoners began climbing ladder wells — which prompted the Japanese soldiers to shoot them.  On the first night, Jacob reported between twenty and thirty prisoners had either died of suffocation or were murdered by fellow prisoners or Japanese guards during the night. Oryoku Maru shown at right.

An even greater danger to the prisoners was allied aircraft and submarines — whose crews did not know the ships contained American and Allied prisoners.  In mid-December 1944, allied forces attacked and sank the Oryoku Maru.  Jacobs, fortunate enough to find himself in the water, survived his ordeal by swimming to shore through shark-infested waters.

See also: Death on the Hell Ships: Prisoners at Sea in the Pacific War.

Little Ships — Massive Punch

Most people may know what an aircraft carrier is, but they may need help recognizing the designations CVA, CVB, CVL, CVS, CVAN, or CVN.  And there are ample reasons why they should.  The designations only have significance to the Navy and Marine Corps.  In essence, the designations are Carrier-Aircraft-Attack, Carrier-Large, Carrier-Small, Carrier-Anti-submarine, Carrier-Nuclear Powered Attack, and Carrier-Nuclear.[1]

If you imagined that the Navy has other nautical designations, you’d be right — we will talk about a couple of them.  Designations BB stood for battleships, and SS stands for submarine.  But the topic of our conversation today is DD and DE.  DD is the designation for destroyer, and DE stands for destroyer escort.  Some see these ships as tiny little fellows similar to coastal patrol boats (PCs) and torpedo patrol boats (PTs) — but they’d be wrong.

A destroyer is a fast, maneuverable, long-endurance warship intended to escort larger vessels of the fleet, convoy, or carrier battle groups and defend them against a wide range of general threats.  The destroy was a concept of the Spanish naval architect Fernando Villaamil as a defense against torpedo boats.  They were initially called torpedo boat destroyers (TBDs), shortened to Destroyer since World War I.  Between then and the beginning of the Second World War, destroyers were light ships with little endurance for unattended ocean operations.  In the U.S. Navy, the Allen M. Sumner class Destroyer grew to a displacement of 2,200 tons.  The more modern Arleigh Burke Class ship has a displacement of 9,600 tons.  The Burke-class guided-missile destroyer packs quite a wallop.

Currently, destroyers are the global standard for surface-combat ships.  Only the United States and Russia operate heavier cruisers.  No battleships or battle cruisers remain on active duty.  In terms of weight and size, today’s destroyers are the equivalent of cruisers from World War II.  In terms of firepower, there is no comparison.  Today, the destroyer averages 510 feet in length, displaces 9,200 tons, and carries more than 90 missiles.  Many navies use the term “frigate” for their destroyers, which leads to some confusion.[2]

Only a foolish sea captain will want to “take on” an American destroyer or escort — true from around 1931 – 1932, the U.S. Navy’s first post-World War I design.  The Navy’s redesign of the destroyer led to the Destroyer Escort.  During the interwar years, the Navy’s school of ship design, favoring some smaller destroyer design, drove home the point that the fleet should have a small ship favoring many of the destroyer’s features but constructed to perform chores too minor for the newer, larger, destroyers.  The debate was an important one leading up to the Second World War.

The destroyer escort originated in 1940, around fifteen months before Pearl Harbor.  On paper, the Navy was already wrestling with the problem of transatlantic convoys.  Fortunately, the quest for a smaller substitute for destroyers began when the British Navy completed its trial of small destroyers.  These were the twenty Hunt class ships measuring 272 feet, 28-foot beam, and 904 tons displacement.  According to a United States naval officer familiar with the background of the DEs, the Royal Navy ships came in for intensive study by U. S. naval observers.[3]  At top speed, they logged 32½ knots (37 mph), which took them out of the slow-poke escort category.  The Hunt class lent itself nicely to the evolution of the type of U. S. vessel under consideration. However, it must have been patent that a U. S. ship intended for transatlantic convoy rather than North Sea sweeps should place cruising radius ahead of speed.  At any rate, the small British destroyers furnished so many fundamental hints that what we can say about these World War II-era vessels is that they did bear a resemblance to their British cousins.

There were two geniuses behind the U.S. Navy’s development of destroyer escorts.  In 1940, the son of U.S. Marine Corps Brigadier General Henry Clay Cochrane, (then) Captain Edward L. Cochrane, and Commander Earle W. Mills, U.S. Navy.[4]  Both went to work with a will. While showing some kindship to the British Hunt class, the result was a distinctly new ship designed for convoy protection over long stretches of sea.

The compromise between destroyer and escort vessel is reflected even in the designation of the DE. Admiral Cochrane returned to the United States with his findings early in 1941.  He was Assistant to the Head of the Design Division of the Bureau of Ships until November 1942, when he was promoted to Rear Admiral and made Chief of the Bureau.  Commander Mills, promoted to Rear Admiral, became Assistant Chief.  In the meantime, the DE took substance on the drawing boards and then on the shipways.  Everyone in the Navy with surface combat experience immediately recognized the worthiness of these “small ships.”

There is adequate proof of this — forever embedded in the heroism of the men who manned these fantastic ships in World War II — and who man their newer versions today.

Destroyers (DDs) and Destroyer Escorts (DEs) are named after U.S. Navy and U.S. Marine Corps heroes.  And some are even named for combat ships — to honor the memories of their entire crews.  USS Samuel B. Roberts is one of these.

Samuel Booker Roberts, Jr. (1921 –1942) was a Coxswain (pronounced Cox’in) killed in the Battle of Guadalcanal and the namesake of three U.S. Navy warships.  Roberts enlisted in the Navy in 1939.  He served aboard USS California (BB-44), USS Heywood (AP-12), and USS Bellatrix (AK-20).  Bellatrix was assigned to Task Group Four and became part of the Guadalcanal assault force.  As a coxswain in command of small boats, Roberts helped ferry supplies from the transport ships to the beachhead.

Japanese counterattacks began on August 7, 1942, forcing Admiral Fletcher to withdraw his landing fleet (for their own preservation).  Roberts volunteered to remain behind to support the Marines who had recently gone ashore.  He was attached to the beach master at Lunga Point.  The unit included both Navy and Coast Guard personnel, transporting Marines and supplies to beaches along the island’s northern coast — and evacuating wounded Marines.

On the morning of September 27, 1942, Roberts again volunteered — this time for a rescue mission to save a company of Marines that an estimated Japanese battalion of naval infantry had surrounded.  The rescue group of several Higgins boats was taken under heavy fire, which brought the mission perilously close to failure.  Roberts distracted the enemy fire by taking his boat directly before the Japanese firing line, drawing away their fire.  Roberts’s efforts permitted the evacuation of the Marines, but Roberts was mortally wounded.  Coxswain Samuel B. Roberts was awarded the Navy Cross medal for his valor in the face of enemy fire.  Three warships have been named in the young warrior’s honor: DE-413 (sunk on October 25, 1944).  Sam Roberts’s younger brother, Jack, was a USS Samuel B. Roberts crew member.  DD-823 was commissioned in 1946 and struck in 1970.  FFG-58, a guided missile destroyer, was commissioned in 1986 and decommissioned in 2015.

Our friend at Pacific Paratrooper recently publicized the announcement by Secretary of the Navy Carlos Del Toro to name an Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer in honor of Ernest Edwin Evans, the first American Indian in the U.S. Navy, to earn the Medal of Honor — and one of only two World War II destroyer captains to attain it.

Taffy Three 

The Battle of Samar was the centermost action of the Battle of Leyte Gulf, one of the most significant naval battles in history, which took place in the Philippine Sea off Samar Island in the Philippines on October 25, 1944.  It was the only major action in the larger battle in which the Americans were largely unprepared.  After the previous day’s fighting, the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) mobile striking force, under the command of Admiral Takeo Kurita, had suffered significant damages and appeared to be retreating westward.  However, by the next morning, the Japanese force had turned around and resumed its advance toward the Leyte Gulf.  With Admiral William Halsey lured into taking his powerful Third Fleet north after a decoy, the Seventh Fleet engaged to the south and recently landed 130,000 men of the Sixth U.S. Army, who were left vulnerable to Japanese assault at Leyte.

Admiral Kurita, aboard Yamato, took his large force of battleships, cruisers, and destroyers from the San Bernardino Strait and headed south toward Leyte, where they encountered Task Unit 77.4.3 (Call Sign Taffy Three), the northernmost of the three escort carrier groups under Rear Admiral Clifton Sprague (comprising the only American forces remaining in the area).  Composed of only six small escort carriers, three destroyers, and four destroyer escorts, Taffy 3 was intended to provide shore support and anti-submarine patrols and did not have guns capable of penetrating Japanese naval armor.

The Japanese opened fire shortly after dawn, targeting Taffy 3’s escort carriers, which Kurita mistook for the main carriers of the Third Fleet.  The escort carriers fled for the cover of rain squalls and launched their aircraft in defense, while the three destroyers, led by USS John V. Johnston, launched a torpedo attack that sank one ship and sent the Japanese strike force into disarray.

Japanese aircraft from a base at Luzon launched a kamikaze attack on the retreating American task force, sinking one escort carrier and damaging three others.  When aircraft assigned to Taffy Two joined the battle, the increasing severity of the air attack further convinced Kurita that he was engaging the Third Fleet’s surface carriers.  Satisfied with sinking what he believed were multiple carriers and worried the bulk of the Third Fleet was approaching, Kurita withdrew his fleet north, failing to carry out his orders to attack the landing forces at Leyte Gulf.

Taffy 3 sustained heavy losses, losing two escort carriers, two destroyers, a destroyer escort, and numerous aircraft.  Over 1,000 Americans died, comparable to the combined losses of American men and ships at the Coral Sea and Midway.  Three Japanese cruisers were sunk by air attack, and three others were damaged.  The Japanese had over 2,700 casualties.  Taffy 3 was awarded the Presidential Unit Citation.

Commander Ernest E. Evans, USN, served as the captain of the USS Johnston, serving in command since the ship’s commissioning on October 27, 1943.  Upon assuming command, Evans told his crew, “This is going to be a fighting ship, and I intend to take her in harm’s way.  Anyone who doesn’t want to go along had better get off right now.”

When the Japanese fleet was first sighted, Commander Evans did not hesitate.  After laying a smoke screen to help hide the escort carriers from enemy gunfire, he ordered his helm hard to port, and he led his destroyer out of the task unit’s circular antiaircraft disposition in favor of charging the enemy alone to make a torpedo attack.  Some claim that Evans told his crew over the ship’s intercom: “A large Japanese fleet has been contacted.  They are fifteen miles away and headed in our direction. They are believed to have four battleships, eight cruisers, and a number of destroyers.  This will be a fight against overwhelming odds from which survival cannot be expected.  We will do what damage we can.”

Charging in against the Japanese along with USS Johnston was USS Samuel B. Roberts.  Roberts’ captain was Lieutenant Commander Robert W. Copeland (1910 – 1973) (later promoted to Rear Admiral).

The fate of Johnston‘s captain was never conclusively established and remains the subject of debate among survivors of the ship’s crew.  Some say that Evans was hit by Japanese naval shellfire; others claim he was last seen boarding a damaged motor whaleboat.  What is known is that Commander Evans was seriously injured during the battle and lived long enough to order his crew to abandon ship.  He was not among the rescued crew.

Copeland was a recipient of the Navy Cross Medal.  Commander Evans was a posthumous recipient of the nation’s highest award: The Medal of Honor.

Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, after the Battle of Samar, wrote, “The success of Taffy 3 was nothing short of special dispensation from the Lord Almighty.”  Historians have cited the Battle of Samar as one of the greatest last stands in U.S. Naval History.

Sources:

  1. Copeland, R. W.  The Spirit of Sammy B.  Ocala, Florida 2007.
  2. Cutler, T.  The Battle of Leyte Gulf, 23-26 October 1944.  Naval Institute Press, 2001.
  3. Friedman, N.  U.S. Destroyers: An illustrated Design History.  Naval Institute Press, 2005.
  4. Hornfischer, J.D.  The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailor.  Bantam Books, 2004.
  5. Thomas, E.  Sea of Thunder: Four Commanders and the Last Great Naval Campaign, 1941 – 1945.  Simon & Schuster, 2006.

Endnotes:

[1] The letter V is a designation for heavier than air (fixed wing) aircraft.  In Latin and Italian, the word “to fly” is volare; in French, it is volplaner.  Volplane means to soar or glide.  Lighter than air aircraft were designated by the letter Z (Zepplin).

[2] The word frigate has evolved from the 17th and 18th centuries.  It was given to any full-rigged ship built for speed and maneuverability, but today, its usage has little consistency.  Today’s U.S. frigates take on a guided missile role, anti-submarine operations, air defense, and littoral combatant ships.  The designation may also apply to destroyers and destroyer escorts — it all depends on who’s doing the talking. 

[3] The Royal Navy rated their Hunt class ships as true destroyers.

[4] Both Cochrane and Mills were promoted to Rear Admiral.

248th Marine Corps Birthday

Gunfire and loud explosions cause most people to run in the opposite direction — for their safety.  Personal safety is not something Marines spend a lot of time thinking about.  They are more inclined to run toward the danger.  This has been going on now for 248 years — and they do it with a tight focus, unparalleled stamina, and a refusal to quit.  Congress approved the Medal of Honor in 1862.  Since then, 297 Marines have received this prestigious medal for acts of valor above and beyond the call of duty.

Marine Corps stories are inspirational; their valorous conduct is inspirational.  Part of it is that such stories inspire others to consider joining the Marines.

JOURNAL OF THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS
(Philadelphia) Friday, November 10, 1775

Resolved, That two Battalions of marines be raised, consisting of one Colonel, two Lieutenant Colonels, two Majors, and other officers as usual in other regiments; and that they consist of an equal number of privates with other battalions; that particular care be taken, that no persons be appointed to office, or enlisted into said Battalions, but such as are good seamen, or so acquainted with maritime affairs as to be able to serve to advantage by sea when required; that they be enlisted and commissioned to serve for and during the present war between Great Britain and the colonies, unless dismissed by order of Congress: that they be distinguished by the names of the first and second battalions of American Marines, and that they be considered as part of the number which the continental Army before Boston is ordered to consist of.

Ordered, That a copy of the above be transmitted to the General.

This ancient document tells us that a Marine Corps existed before the United States of America.  The officer appointed to command these two battalions was Captain Sam Nicholas.  He quickly established a recruiting station at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Nicholas was looking for a few good men.  That tradition continues today — the search for Americans with what it takes to fight and win our country’s battles.

Not long after Captain Nicholas began his recruiting effort, on 3-4 March 1776, five Marine companies conducted an amphibious raid at Nassau.  The American forces needed munitions and gunpowder, and the British had lots of it.  So, continental naval forces went to the Bahamas to seize British stores.  It wasn’t the most significant operation ever conducted by Marines, but it was a start.

After the American Revolution, Islamists in North Africa brought attention to themselves as pirates by attacking, seizing, capturing, and enslaving American sailors and holding them for ransom.  The situation was partly the fault of Congress for deciding to pay the cutthroats their ransom; it only inspired them to conduct more raids against American shipping.  Such behavior inspired President George Washington (who was never a fan of the Navy) to create the U.S. Navy and U.S. Marine Corps to safeguard American interests at sea and on foreign shores.

The Battle of Derna in 1805 was a defensive measure against the Barbary Pirates.  Marines were the first Americans to raise the United States Flag over a foreign nation.  Did the Islamists learn any important lessons from their encounter with U.S. Marines?  No, of course not.  We’re still fighting them today.

A little more than a hundred years later, Marines joined with their Army brothers in fighting the war to end all wars.  To dislodge the Germans from their positions within Belleau Wood in France, Marines launched a remarkable soul-shredding assault, which destroyed the enemy’s will to launch any counter-offensives.  The attack of the Marine Brigade, fighting as part of the US Second Infantry Division of the American Expeditionary Force, was so overwhelming that the Germans nicknamed them “Devil Dogs.” The name has stuck because of their relentless fighting spirit, and America’s Marines are still referred to as Devil Dogs today.

At the end of the Great War, the U.S. government rolled over and went back to sleep – but the Navy and Marine Corps remained wide awake and vigilant.  Marine Corps Lieutenant Colonel Pete Ellis predicted trouble with the Empire of Japan, urging the Navy and Marine Corps to begin preparations for another “great war.”

Between 1920 and 1940, the Navy-Marine Corps team put together deep-water and amphibious warfare doctrines that would guarantee victory to the Allied Powers in Atlantic, Mediterranean, Indian, and Pacific Ocean theaters of operations.  Part of this planning and preparation included innovative tactical strategies, including close air support for Marine ground forces.  Despite the success of such strategies and tactics, America’s land and air forces failed to comprehend the value of close air support until the Korean War (1950-53).

In September 1941, the U.S. Army Air Corps developed plans for war against Germany and Japan, basing the B-29 Superfortress in Egypt for operations against Germany.  Air Corps planning throughout 1942 and early 1943 continued to have the B-29 deployed initially against Germany, transferring to the Pacific only after the end of the war in Europe.

By the end of 1943, however, plans had changed, partly due to production delays, and the B-29 was soon earmarked for service in the Pacific Theater.  The Air Corps’ new plan was implemented by presidential order and dubbed Operation Matterhorn.  The United States would use B-29 aircraft to bomb Japan from forward air bases in Southern China and India, as needed.

American Air Corps and Chinese war planners selected the Chengdu region as suitable for B-29 home base operations.  The XX Bomber Command was initially intended to operate two combat wings of four air groups each, but these numbers were significantly reduced because of a lack of aircraft.

The scheme was costly because India and China had no overland connection.  All supplies required aerial transport over the Himalayan Mountains.  Such operations forced the Air Corps to lighten combat aircraft so that they could fly safely over the world’s highest mountain range.  The first flights took place in April 1944, the first bombing mission directed against Imperial Japanese forces in Bangkok on 5 June.  During this initial mission, the Air Corps lost five out of 77 aircraft due to non-combat issues.

The first bombing mission flown against the Japanese home islands occurred on 15 June – the first air assault on Japan since Doolittle.  Enemy ground anti-aircraft fire destroyed two B-29s; a third “disappeared” over the Himalayas.  Of the total bombing force, only one bomb hit an enemy target.  However, because the raid nearly exhausted the Allied fuel stocks at Chengdu, the Air Corps began to look for airfields closer to the Japanese Islands.  The distances between Chinese/Indian air bases and Japanese targets restricted the effectiveness of B-29 bombing missions.

The solution to the distance problem was to seize the Mariana Islands and use them for advanced air bases, bringing Japan’s northern cities within range of the B-29.  U.S. Marines assaulted Saipan on 15 June 1944, and Navy Seabees began the construction of an airfield even before the fighting ended on the island.  During the seizure of Japan, Marines suffered nearly 13,000 casualties, with between 3,000 and 3,200 killed in action.  Overall, American land forces suffered 16,500 casualties.  The Japanese began to shift its forces to a little-known island closer to home called Iwo Jima.  There were five airfields on Iwo Jima, and the United States wanted them for use by B-29 aircrews as an alternate emergency landing field.

The flag raising on Mount Suribachi on 23 February 1945 was a vital moment at the Battle of Iwo Jima.  After securing the island on 26 March 1945 (one of the bloodiest battles in Marine Corps history), the island’s airfields recovered 2,400 damaged B-29 bombers, saving the lives of 24,750 airmen.  The battle cost the Marines 26,000 casualties – 6,800 of those men killed.  The Iwo Jima flag raising is a permanent reminder of the fighting spirit of the U.S. Marines.  Iwo Jima – where Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue.

In the summer of 1950, the American Eighth Army performed occupation duty in Japan.  Due to underfunding by the Truman administration, American military forces were understaffed, under-equipped, inadequately trained, and poorly led.  When the North Korean Army launched its attack on the Republic of South Korea on 25 June, elements of the U.S. Eighth Army were nearly pushed into the sea from its toehold in Pusan, South Korea.

United States Marines performed three miracles during the Korean War.  The first was the rapid deployment of the 1st Marine Brigade, dispatched to South Korea to help the Army defend the Pusan perimeter.  There was nothing “light” about this particular brigade.  Included, along with the 5th Marine Regiment, was Marine Aircraft Group 33 (MAG-33), and they, together, did massive damage to North Korean forces.

The second miracle was the Marine amphibious landing at Inchon – a mission General Omar Bradley said couldn’t be done.  General Bradley, it seems, never tired of being wrong.  According to historian and strategist Bernard Brodie, The amphibious landing of U.S. Marines in September 1950 at Inchon, on the west coast of Korea, was one of the most audacious and spectacularly successful amphibious landings in all naval history. 

The third miracle was the 1st Marine Division’s destruction of ten Chinese infantry divisions at the Battle of Chosin Reservoir.  Outnumbered 8 to 1 and cut off from logistical support, the 1st Marine Division battled the enemy in deep snow and minus forty-degree temperatures.  The Commanding General, 1st Marine Division, Major General Oliver P. Smith, USMC, when questioned about the withdrawal of Marines from the Chosin Reservoir, snapped Retreat hell!  We’re just attacking in another direction.

Not satisfied with Smith’s response to the question of withdrawing Marines, the press challenged Colonel Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller, Commanding Officer of the 1st Marine Regiment, calmly responded: We’ve been looking for the enemy for several days now.  We’ve finally found him.  We’re surrounded.  That simplifies our problem of getting to these people and killing them.

U.S. Army Major General Frank E. Lowe, President Truman’s emissary in Korea, observed on 26 January 1951 that the safest place in Korea was right behind a platoon of Marines.  Lord, how they could fight.  The Reds told us they were afraid to tangle with the Marines and avoided them when possible.

In 1968, four U.S. Marines battalions joined South Vietnamese and U.S. Army units to engage in street fighting during the Battle of Hue in South Vietnam.  The fight, lasting 33 days, was an intense, unrelenting, block-by-block slug-fest that pushed back enemy defensive positions, eventually allowing American and Vietnamese forces to secure the city.  The Military Advisory Command, Vietnam, reported 5,113 enemy killed, 98 captured, and an estimated 3,000 wounded in action.

The legacy of American Marines continues.  According to one of our recent Commandants of the Marine Corps, what the Marine Corps does best is Make Marines and Win Battles.  This is accomplished through maximum focus on combat readiness and the resolve to win battles no matter what the odds.  During the Helmand Province Campaigns in 2009, (then) Brigadier General Lawrence D. Nicholson (now retired) led the 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade’s 8,000 combat Marines into one of Afghanistan’s largest provinces.

BGen Nicholson orchestrated operations dubbed Khanjar, Eastern Resolve, and Cobra Anger from July 2009 into the fall season.  In February 2010, the 2nd MEB closed in on Marjah during Operation Mostarak.  Marine successes cleared the way for an Afghan government and Coalition presence in previously enemy-held areas.

American Marines also had to contend with vast poppy fields that helped finance the Taliban insurgency.  Nicholson maintained a dynamic vision for COIN operations with non-traditional maneuverings, such as interacting with local mullahs, employing female teams, and establishing the Joint Security Academy, a Marine Corps-led police training facility.

Senior Army officers and State Department officials considered some of General Nicholson’s methods unconventional and pressured him to “get in line” with official Afghan policies.  Nicholson, however, would not be bullied into adopting strategies or tactics that he knew were foolish, wasteful, or an unnecessary risk to his Marines.  He insisted on autonomy; his doctrinal reliance on MAGTF operations prompted his critics to label Helmand Province Marineistan.

These Marines, senior officials claimed, had gone rogue in Helmand Province; they wouldn’t do anything the Army wanted them to do.  Army officials didn’t understand.  U.S. Marines do not need the Army’s help or advice fighting bad guys – they’ve been doing it for 248 years.  As it turned out, the U.S. State Department or U.S. Army had no clue whatsoever about winning the hearts and minds of the Afghan people.  Click on the link for additional information about Marineistan.

Today, the U.S. Marine Corps offers a reliable force in an uncertain world.  Institutionally, the Marines are the force of choice for the President, Secretary of Defense, and various combatant commanders.  Why?  Because Marines get the job done.

What Separates the Marines From the Other Branches?  First, readers must understand that each of America’s armed forces deserves the utmost respect for the mission they perform for their country.  But what makes the Marines unique is that they are a 9-11 force.  You call — Marines haul.  Marines aren’t a land army; they are one of the smallest military branches.  They are naval infantry.  They project naval power ashore with second-to-none expeditionary warfare capability.  They are armed and organized to get results anywhere in the world.

The Marine Corps is the only independent branch that serves as part of another branch.  In 1775, the Continental Congress established the Marines as a separate branch “for service with” the Navy.  In 1834, President Andrew Jackson wanted to make the Marines part of the Army.  However, the then-Marine Corps Commandant, Colonel Archibald Henderson, had proven the branch’s effectiveness on land and sea.  He persuaded Congress to place the Marine Corps within the Department of the Navy.  The Navy and Marine Corps have been a combat team ever since.

More often than not, U.S. Marines are first on the ground.  They are a quick reaction force with specialized units trained to respond to various crises wherever and wherever necessary.  Many Americans view the Marines as the tip of America’s spear.  Marine combat units are all expeditionary forces.

Another aspect of the Marines that makes them unique is that they guard United States Embassies — a responsibility exclusive to US Marines.  Currently, Marine Security Guards protect 174 Embassies and consulates in 146 countries.

Happy 248th Birthday, Marines!

11th Airborne Division

To war, or not …

Before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941, the American people were divided about US involvement in the unfolding war in Europe and Asia.  There were two reasons for this divide: First, many Americans recalled the horror of World War I — and did not want any further American involvement in European affairs.  Second, President Franklin D. Roosevelt had campaigned for reelection on not becoming involved in another world war.  Behind the scenes, however, Roosevelt wanted American involvement as a British ally and did everything he could to goad the Japanese into launching the first strike.

Divided Americans involved two camps: Isolationists and Interventionists. 

Contrary to modern politicians, most of whom have never placed themselves in harm’s way, Isolationism isn’t a dirty word.  Our first president cautioned subsequent administrations about becoming involved in foreign entanglements.  If a world war is not a foreign entanglement, then I don’t know what is.

Isolationist sentiments existed before World War I, of course.  It was primarily a group of citizens who argued that the notion of Manifest Destiny was pure poppycock.  God, they said, had no intention of granting such favors to the American Republic.  As the so-called Great War unfolded, President Woodrow Wilson (also) told voters that he did not intend to lead the US to war.  But he did that, resulting in several significant anti-war/anti-government protests.  Wilson decided to play “guts ball” and arrested those who objected to military conscription.

President Wilson committed 4.7 million Americans to fight in World War I.  Four million of those men served in the US Army, 600,000 in the US Navy, and around 79,000 US Marines.  As a result, 53,402 Americans died from combat injuries, with another 63,114 dying from the Spanish influenza pandemic.  An additional 204,002 Americans suffered combat wounds, including loss of limbs and permanent inability to function in society: blindness, paralysis, and horrific burns.  And these were the things Americans remembered from World War I that prompted them to resist any engagement in World War II.  And, as it turned out, this is why Roosevelt did what he could to goad the Japanese into attacking the United States.

The rise of Adolf Hitler in Germany or Japanese expansionism did nothing to change the attitudes of American isolationists.  All they knew was that the American economy was a shamble, tens of thousands of men were out of work, and the mid-west was undergoing an ecological disaster of epic proportions.  They wanted the federal government to focus on fixing those problems and stay out of foreign affairs.  Responding to these sentiments, Congress passed several neutrality acts in the late 1930s to prevent future involvement in foreign wars.  Congress banned American citizens from trading with nations at war, loaning them money, or traveling on their ships.

By 1940, however, the global situation had deteriorated to the point where it was impossible to ignore.  Nazi Germany had annexed Austria and Czechoslovakia and had conquered Poland, Belgium, the Netherlands, and France.  Great Britain was the only major European power left standing against Hitler’s war machine.  The urgency of the situation intensified the debate in the United States over whether American interests were better served by staying out or getting involved.

Interventionists believed the United States had good reasons to become involved in World War II, particularly in Europe.  The democracies of Western Europe, they argued, were a critical line of defense against Hitler’s rapidly growing military strength.  If no European power remained as a check against Nazi Germany, the United States could become isolated in a world where a single powerful dictator controlled the seas and a significant amount of territory and resources.

FDR led the interventionists who told the American people that if the US did nothing, Americans would soon be “… living at the point of a gun.” No ocean, he argued, would save America from the quest of madmen to conquer the world.  Many interventionists believed war was inevitable; getting in earlier would be better.

Public opinion polls were not very sophisticated in 1940, but surveys did demonstrate that American attitudes were shifting.  One study in January 1940 noted that 88% of respondents opposed American involvement in Europe’s second great war.  In June, only 35% opposed American involvement.  Beyond the results of these two surveys, we have no information about where they were conducted, how, or by whom.   

After France fell to Germany, and the German Luftwaffe began an all-out bombing campaign against Great Britain, a September 1940 survey found that 52% of Americans supported becoming a British ally against Germany.  That number increased to 68% by April 1941.

Now What?

The United States was no more ready for World War II than for World War I.  Of all the Armed Services, the Navy-Marine Corps was best prepared for the second great war.  Beginning in the 1920s, the Naval War Board began planning for a major fight with Imperial Japan.  Not long after the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt’s son, James, a serving Marine Corps officer, suggested to his father that the United States create a “commando” force modeled on that of the British Royal Marines.   

American Marines have long resisted referring to themselves as “commandos.”  By definition, a commando is a military unit or individual specifically trained and organized to conduct raids into enemy territory.  The Marine Corps is an elite combat force with specific expertise in amphibious operations, including over-the-horizon vertical assault.  Raiding coastlines is what Marines do, so senior Marine Corps officials could see no advantage to re-designate some Marine Corps units as commandos.  The Marine’s senior leadership thought the entire concept was silly and resisted.

President Roosevelt, however, expressed an interest in creating an American counterpart to the British Commandos, in the same way the Americans had developed its Office of Strategic Services (OSS) as a counterpart to British Foreign Intelligence.  Aiding Captain James Roosevelt behind the scenes was Marine Major Evans Carlson and Colonel William J. Donovan (all three of whom had the President’s ear).

President Roosevelt asked the Commandant of the Marine Corps, Major General Commandant Thomas Holcomb, what he thought of the idea.  Holcomb disagreed with the proposal until Roosevelt told him to make it happen.  General Holcomb complied with his president’s order but didn’t like it and wouldn’t refer to his Marines as “commandos.” He instead called them Raiders.

Similarly, senior US officials were impressed with Nazi Germany’s large-scale use of airborne formations during the Battle of France in 1940 and later in Germany’s 1941 invasion of the island of Crete.  It was enough to cause the British and American armies to decide to raise airborne units of their own.  They even forced this notion on the Marines.  After spending time and resources training Marines to leap out of cargo planes, the Marines did not perform a single airborne operation in the Pacific War.  The reason for this was that parachuting into dense jungle environments infested with Japanese machine guns was not a very smart thing to do.

The US Army formed five parachute divisions; one was the Eleventh Airborne, activated on 25 February 1943 — my mother’s 18th birthday (although the two events were completely unrelated).  The 11th formed at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, under the command and supervision of Major General Joseph Swing.  The initial regiments included the 511th Parachute Infantry, 187th Glider Infantry, and 188th Glider Infantry.  The division’s strength was about half that of a regular infantry division.  The father of our good friend G. P. Cox at Pacific Paratrooper was a member of the Eleventh Airborne during the Pacific War.

Typical for most forming combat units, the 11th Airborne remained in the United States throughout its initial training period.  The training was as tough as any other pre-combat instruction.  There were lengthy forced marches, simulated parachute landings from 34-and-250-foot towers, and practice jumps from transport aircraft.  The hesitancy of any soldier to exit an aircraft resulted in immediate failure.  One might think jumping out of a good airplane would turn an average American’s blood to ice water, but the Eleventh had no problem recruiting men for airborne service.  There was never any shortage of candidates for parachute training.

The Airborne Debate

However, before the Eleventh Airborne completed its training, a debate developed in the Army about whether the best use of airborne forces was en masse or as small, compact units.  The first large-scale airborne operation was carried out on 9 July 1943 by the 82nd Airborne and British 1st Airborne divisions in support of operations at Sicily (Operation Husky).  Major General Swing was temporarily detached to serve General Eisenhower as his principal Airborne advisor.  The operation’s airborne portion was unsuccessful owing to a high percentage of parachute and glider mishaps, which led some to conclude that the 82nd had failed to achieve its primary objectives.  Whether true, General Eisenhower concluded that large-scale operations were too difficult to control in combat to be practical.  Lieutenant General Lesley J. McNair, formerly a proponent of airborne forces, had to agree.  Army Chief of Staff George Marshall disagreed.  He ordered Eisenhower to establish a review board to analyze the Sicilian operation and assess its results.

When Major General Swing returned to North Carolina to resume his training syllabus, General McNair ordered him to form a committee of USAAF parachute, glider infantry, and airborne artillery officers to develop strategies for employing airborne forces.  General McNair selected the Eleventh Airborne Division as the test formation.  The maneuver would benefit the division by offering additional training opportunities.

In the training operation, the 11th Airborne aggressed the 17th Airborne Division, defending Knollwood Airfield near Fort Bragg.  The Knollwood maneuver took place on 7 December 1943.  Forty-eight hundred troops arranged in four groups constituted the first wave.  Eighty-five percent of the parachutists reached their targets without any navigational error — and in 1943, that was pretty darn good.  Elements of the 11th Airborne seized the Knollwood field and secured a landing area before daylight.  Once accomplished, these crack troops launched a coordinated ground assault against a reinforced regiment and conducted several aerial resupply and casualty evacuation missions.  According to the exercise’s observers, the operation was a complete success.  The Army learned important lessons from Operation Husky, and both McNair and Eisenhower endorsed airborne units for use in Europe.

Mission: South Pacific

Following the Knollwood exercise, the 11th Airborne remained in stateside reserve until January 1944, when the division was relocated to Fort Polk, Louisiana, to undergo four additional weeks of pre-deployment training.  In April, the division moved to Camp Stoneman, California, and then to Milne Bay, Papua, New Guinea.  Between June and September, the division acclimatized to conditions in the South Pacific and continued airborne training in jungle terrain and glider landings around Dobodura.  By the end of October, the entire division was parachute-qualified.

Leyte, The Philippines

On 11 November 1944, the Eleventh Airborne boarded naval transports to the Philippine Islands, arriving at Leyte on 18 November.  Four days later, the division was committed to combat operations — as a regular infantry division rather than as an airborne unit.

After relieving the 7th Infantry in the Burauen-La-Paz-Bugho area, the division engaged enemy Japanese forces wherever found and provided security to the XXIV Corps logistical camps.  The two glider regiments offered rear-area security and aggressive patrolling while the 511th took on regular Japanese units, which were now on a defensive footing.  Fierce Japanese resistance made operations painfully slow and costly in men and materials.

Within the area of operations in November alone, elements of the 11th Airborne experienced 23 inches of rainfall, which placed a damper on critical resupply operations.  Logistical challenges also slowed down the regiment’s rate of advance.  All efforts to increase the pace of advancement failed as weather, terrain, and a determined enemy restricted forward movement.

In early December 1944, the Imperial Japanese Army conducted a small-scale airborne raid against the Army’s forward units.  Their three attempts failed as American troops destroyed Japanese aircraft in flight or on the ground.  A second, larger raid involving 29 – 40 enemy aircraft successfully penetrated the 11th Airborne command element with losses of five light aircraft and one C-47 transport.  Soldiers defending the command post included an ad hoc arrangement of artillery, engineers, and support troops led by Major General Swing.

Soon after, on 17 December, the 511th, reinforced by 2/187, broke through Japanese lines and conducted a link-up with elements of the 32nd Infantry Division.  During this operation, Private Elmer E. Fryar distinguished himself in combat with a determined enemy.  After helping to repel a particularly aggressive Japanese counter-attack, although grievously wounded, Private Fryar killed 27 enemy soldiers in personal combat before an enemy sniper killed him.  Fryar was later awarded the nation’s highest award for valor in combat: the Medal of Honor.

Luzon, The Philippines

On 22 January 1945, the 11th Airborne was alerted for an operation on Luzon, the Philippines, north of Leyte.  Elements of the division landed on Luzon from the sea on 27 January, while the 511th airlifted to Mindoro.  At dawn on 31 January, the 188th spearheaded an amphibious assault near Nasugbu, southern Luzon, and successfully established a beachhead.  Almost immediately, 1/188 aggressively moved to disrupt Japanese defenses along Highway 17 while 2/188 moved south to secure the division’s right flank against enemy counter-attack.  Once the penetration was secure, the 187 came ashore, and the division continued its advance and seized crucial bridging before enemy engineers could destroy them.

Near Tumalin, the 188th began to receive heavy Japanese resistance to forward movement.  The 187th took the lead as resistance increased.  The Americans faced well-developed fighting trenches linked to concrete bunkers and fortified caves.  Japanese artillery supported several hundred enemy infantry troops defending Tumalin.  The Americans launched their attack at 0900 on 1 February, with fighting continuing through midday when Americans broke through the IJA’s initial defensive positions.  By midnight, the 188th had broken through a third-tier position, placing the division reconnaissance platoon near the Tagaytay Ridge (the intended site of the 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment’s first combat drop.

Initially, General Swing scheduled the 511th operation for 2 February, but he also insisted that the drop could only proceed if his ground force could offer fire support.  Stubborn Japanese resistance delayed the drop, and with only 48 C-47 aircraft available, the 511th had to deploy in three chalks: The lead element included the regimental command post, the second battalion, and half of the third battalion, the remainder of the regiment would arrive in the second drop, and the 457th Parachute field artillery would drop in the third stick.

Tagaytay Ridge was an open space extending some 2,000 yards long and 4,000 yards wide.  Local Filipino troops had cleared the ridge of any Japanese troops.  The first stick arrived at around 0815 (345 men) — a successful insertion.  The second group of about 570 men dropped prematurely, landing some 8,000 east of the drop zone.  But within five hours, the entire regiment was assembled and moving to contact with IJA forces.  By 1500, the 511th linked up with the 187th and 188th.  The formed division began moving toward Manila by 2100.

The Japanese protected the city of Manila through their so-called Genko Line, a defensive belt that stretched along the city’s southern edge.  The defensive line included 1,200 two to three-story deep blockhouses containing naval guns or large caliber mortars.  Defenses included heavy anti-aircraft weapons, machine gun emplacements, and booby traps fashioned from naval bombs.  6,000 Japanese troops manned the line.

The Manila Fight

The mission assigned to the Eleventh Airborne was to breach the Japanese defenses and drive into Manila, then to link up with other American forces attacking the city from the north.  General Swing committed all three of his regiments to the assault.  The division’s chief of staff, Colonel Irvin R. Schimmelpfennig III, was killed by Japanese small arms fire on 4 February.  Spearheading the division’s attack on 5 February, the 511th overcame fierce resistance and broke through the outer perimeter of the Japanese position.  Then, relieved by the 188th, the glider regiment took up the push westwards in the face of heavy opposition while the 511th shifted their axis of advance to enter the city from the south. 

By 11 February, the division had entered into a slugfest with Imperial forces near an airfield near the center of the main line of defense.  It was a heavily fortified perimeter that included entrenched naval guns and a series of bunkers.  After a short artillery bombardment on the morning of 12 February, 2/187 assaulted the airfield’s northwest corner as 1/187 and the entire 188th Parachute Regiment moved in from the south and southeastern corners.  By nightfall, the 11th Airborne units had secured the airfield and the following morning, began its thrust toward Fort McKinley, the headquarters of Rear Admiral Sanji Iwabuchi (commanding the Manila garrison).

During the advance, Private First Class Manuel Perez, Jr. distinguished himself in combat by neutralizing several Japanese bunkers, capturing one single-handedly, and killing eighteen enemy soldiers.  The President awarded Perez the nation’s highest combat award for his extraordinary courage.  He was later killed in action.

On 15 February, 1/187, alongside other American units, launched an assault on Mabato Point, an exceptionally heavily fortified Imperial Japanese position.  It took the 11th Airborne six days of hard fighting, numerous air strikes, and the frequent use of napalm to dislodge the Japanese.  The battalion suffered many casualties when the Japanese set off a massive booby trap of buried navy depth charges.  The rest of the division assaulted McKinley on 17 February.  Leading the charge was the 511th.    By the next day, the Division had cleared the area of its defenders — even though sporadic fighting continued through 3 March 1945.  The Commanding Officer of the 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment was killed in action on 22 February 1945.

Los Baños Point

Army intelligence revealed that the Japanese had detained civilian personnel in Luzon, mostly in internment camps scattered throughout the island.  The largest of these was located at Los Baños on the campus of the Philippine Agricultural College, forty miles southeast of Manila.  General MacArthur Tasked the 11th Airborne with rescuing the civilian internees on 3 February but heaving engagement with Imperial forces left it unable to divert any resources at that time.  All that could be done at the time was to gather as much information from guerilla groups operating around Los Baños.

Assisted by a group of guerrillas on 21 February 1945, the division reconnaissance platoon approached Los Baños from the lake at around 0200.  After securing a drop zone, they concealed themselves in the jungle near the internment camp.

During the afternoon of 22 February, Company B 1/511 moved to the airfield while the rest of the 1st Battalion rendezvoused with an Amtrac convoy.  Early the following day, Company B loaded ten C-47s and prepared to parachute just outside the Los Baños internment facility while the remainder of the 1st Battalion loaded aboard Amtracs.

As the first paratroopers began their drop, members of the reconnaissance platoon and supporting guerillas opened fire on the internment camp’s defenses.  Within thirty minutes, Japanese defenders were overwhelmed by Allied fire and withdrew.  Within four hours, soldiers evacuated all internees.

The Fight Continues

The US Sixth Army ordered the 11th Airborne to clean up southern Luzon, discovering and attacking all Japanese forces.  The bulk of the division moved south on 24 February 1945, with the 187th and 511th advancing abreast.  General Swing ordered the 188th to conduct similar operations in the Pico de Loro Hills along the south shore of Manilla Bay.  Japanese forces included members of the 80,000-man-strong Shimbu Group of the Fourteenth Area Army serving under General Tomoyuki Yamashita.  It took the concerted effort of the 11th Airborne, 1st Cavalry Division, and an assortment of Philippine irregular units until the end of April to subdue the Japanese.

The 11th Airborne Division’s next operation occurred on 23 June in Aparri Province (northern Luzon).  By this time, the only Japanese forces remaining on the island were positioned to the far north and belonged to the Japanese Shobu Group.

The Shobu Group was the last and most tenacious of General Yamashita’s defense force.  It forced the Sixth Army commander, Lieutenant General Walter Krueger, to commit four infantry divisions, an armored task force, and a large band of Filipino irregulars to confront and rout the Japanese force.  While Sixth Army forces pinned down the Japanese, the US 37th Infantry Division began an advance northward, defeating a weaker formation and encircling the main Japanese force.  To ensure the success of the 37th’s drive, Krueger called for an airborne force to land near Aparri and move southwards to meet the advancing 37th.

The 11th Airborne Division was to drop a battalion-sized combat team on Camalaniugan Airfield, approximately ten miles south of Aparri Province.  It would then advance southwards, eliminating all Japanese resistance, until it linked up with the leading elements of the 37th Infantry Division.  To accomplish this, General Swing formed a specialized unit, dubbed Task Force (TF) Gypsy, comprising the 1st Battalion of the 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment, Company G and Company I of the 2nd Battalion, 511th, an artillery battery from the 475th Parachute Field Artillery Battalion, and a platoon of combat engineers with miscellaneous signal and medical detachments.  TF Gypsy transport included 54 C-47 and 13 C-46 aircraft and six Waco CG-4A Gliders for landing jeeps and supplies to sustain the task force.

On 21 June, a detachment of airborne pathfinders flew in to secure Camalaniugan Airfield.  Two days later, with TF Gypsy approaching the airfield, Pathfinders set off colored smoke to mark the drop zone.  Fierce winds and uneven ground were hazardous to the parachutists, causing two deaths and seventy debilitating injuries.  Despite the casualties, TF Gypsy quickly consolidated and began an advance southward.  The Japanese were tenacious in their resistance, which forced the Americans to use flame-throwers to eliminate enemy bunkers and fortifications.  After three days of fighting and having destroyed a significant portion of the Shobu Group, the task force encountered the lead elements of the 37th Infantry Division.  Although the Japanese continued their resistance until September, their encirclement marked the 11th Airborne Division’s final World War II combat operation.

During the war, the 11th Airborne Division earned 13 distinguished unit citations.  Of personal decorations, there were 2 Medals of Honor, 9 Distinguish Service Crosses, 432 Silver Star Medals, 10 Legions of Merit, 56 Soldier’s Medals, 1,515 Bronze Star Medals, and 41 Air Medals.

Following World War II, the 11th Airborne Division served until deactivated in 1958.  The Division was reactivated for service between 1963 and 1965 and reactivated again in 2022.  Today, the 11th Airborne Division is known as the US Army’s “Arctic Angels” because they are stationed at Fort Wainwright, Alaska.  The current Commanding General is Major General Brian Eifler, US Army. 

The division’s plank-owner, Lieutenant General Joseph May “Jump’in Joe” Swing, US Army, passed away on 9 December 1984.  He was 90 years old.  

Turning Point — Midway, Part II

Continued from Last Week

Admiral Nagumo kept half his airstrike group in reserve: four squadrons of dive and torpedo bombers.  At 0715, Nagumo ordered his reserve aircraft rearmed with bombs for land targets.  Within thirty minutes of these rearming efforts, a Japanese scout plane notified the fleet that he had sighted a sizable American force to the east of the IJN fleet’s position.  He failed to describe the force, however.  Nagumo reversed his order to rearm his reserve aircraft with land bombs.  He demanded better intelligence from the scout plane.  Another thirty minutes elapsed before the scout radioed the presence of a single American carrier force.  The scout did not see the second carrier.

A confused Admiral Nagumo was unsure how to proceed.  Subordinates advised that he strike Midway immediately with the forces available to him.  Still, his ability to launch a strike against the spotted American carrier was hampered by the fact that he had to recover inbound aircraft from the first assault.  They’d have to ditch at sea if Nagumo didn’t recover his aircraft.

The few aircraft on the Japanese flight decks at the time of the attack were either defensive fighters or, in the case of Sōryū, fighters earmarked to augment fleet CAP operations.  No matter Nagumo’s decision, it would probably be wrong.

Japanese carrier doctrine preferred launching fully constituted strikes rather than piecemeal attacks.  Nagumo’s reaction was doctrinaire without confirmation of whether the American force included carriers (not received until 0820).  In addition, the arrival of another land-based American air strike at 0753 gave weight to the need to attack the island again.  Ultimately, Nagumo decided to wait for his first strike force to land, then launch the reserve, which would be adequately armed with torpedoes.

Ultimately, Nagumo’s decision made no difference because Admiral Jack Fletcher’s carriers began launching their planes at 0700.  Enterprise and Hornet completed their launch by 0755.  Yorktown did not finish launching their birds until 0908, so the aircraft that would deliver the crushing blow were already enroute to Nagumo’s fleet.  Even if Nagumo had not strictly followed carrier operations procedures, he could not have prevented the launch of American assault aircraft.

The American Assault

Admiral Fletcher’s flag was aboard the U.S.S. Yorktown.  He benefitted from PBY sighting reports from the early morning hours and ordered Admiral Spruance to launch against the Japanese as soon as it was practical.  Yorktown was held in reserve in the event additional Japanese carriers were discovered.

Admiral Spruance reckoned that an air strike could succeed even though the range to target was extreme.  After judging the likelihood of success, Spruance turned the aircraft launch over to the Chief of Staff, Captain Miles Browning, U.S.N.  The American carriers had to launch their plane into the wind.  This meant the carriers had to steam into the wind — taking the American ships away from the Japanese positions.  Browning understood that as soon as all attack aircraft were in the air, the carriers would have to turn about and steam toward the Japanese to recover their planes after the attack.  These factors prompted Browning to begin his launch at 0700.  Yorktown began her launch at 0800.

Admiral Spruance ordered his aircraft to proceed immediately and directly to their targets.  Fuel was critical; he did not want to waste fuel trying to form up for a mass assault.  Neutralizing enemy carriers was crucial to the success of the battle.

The Japanese launched 108 attack aircraft in seven minutes; it took Enterprise and Hornet more than an hour to launch 117.  Admiral Spruance judged that the need to hit the enemy quickly outweighed the preferred practice of organizing aircraft by type and speed, so the squadrons launched piecemeal and proceeded to the attack in varying air groups.  Spruance was thinking outside the box because keeping the Japanese busy fending off an American assault would prevent them from seizing the initiative.  It was also a gamble that the Americans would find Nagumo vulnerable.

U.S. Navy aircraft had a difficult time locating the enemy.  Commander Stanhope Ring followed an erroneous heading of 265 degrees rather than the correct heading of 240 degrees.  His flight missed the Japanese carriers completely.  Lieutenant Commander John Waldron, commanding Torpedo Squadron 8 (VT-8), realized that Stanhope was pursuing an incorrect heading and broke off, turning to the correct heading.  Ten F4Fs from Hornet ran out of fuel and had to ditch.

Waldron’s VT-8 began its attack at 0920.  VF-6 from Enterprise followed at 0940.  VF-6’s fighter escorts lost contact with, ran low on fuel, and turned back toward the carrier.  Without fighter escort, all fifteen aircraft of VT-8 were shot down.  Ensign George H. Gay, Jr., was the only survivor of VT-8.

VT-6 lost nine of its 14 Devastators.  Ten aircraft (of 12) from VT-3 were shot down before hitting enemy targets.  Part of the problem was malfunctioning torpedoes, which produced a scandal in the United States.  The Battle of Midway was the last time TBD Devastators were used in combat.[1]  At this stage in the war, Japanese Zeros were among the most advanced fighters in the world — far superior to American torpedo bombers and Grumman F4F Wildcats.

American torpedo attacks achieved three important results despite their failure to score any hits.  First, they kept the Japanese carriers off balance and could not prepare and launch their counterstrike.  Second, the poor control of the Japanese combat air patrol (CAP) meant they were out of position for subsequent attacks.  Third, many of the Zeros ran low on ammunition and fuel.  The appearance of a third torpedo plane attack from the southeast by VT-3 from Yorktown at 1000 hours very quickly drew the majority of Japanese CAP to the southeast quadrant of the Imperial fleet.  More disciplined aircrews and greater numbers of aircraft might have been effective.

By chance, when the Japanese sighted VT-3, three squadrons of SBDs from Enterprise and Yorktown approached from the southwest and northeast.  A squadron from Yorktown flew immediately behind VT-3 but elected to attack from a different course.  VB-6 and VS-6 (from Enterprise) were running low on fuel because of their time to find the enemy.

Lieutenant Commander C. Wade McClusky, serving as the air group commander aboard Enterprise, led the scout bombers and was credited with making a critical tactical decision that led to the sinking of the INJ fleet carriers Kaga and Akagi.  Within minutes of McClusky’s attack, three of the four Japanese aircraft carriers were ablaze.  However, the actual sinking of the carriers was accomplished by Japanese escort ships; the Japanese did not want the carriers to fall into American hands.

Counterattack

Japan’s sole surviving aircraft carrier, Hiryū, wasted little time counterattacking.  The ship’s first wave included 18 D3As and six fighter escorts.  They followed the withdrawing American aircraft and attacked the first carrier they encountered, Yorktown, hitting her with three bombs.  The strike blew a hole in Yorktown’s deck and snuffed out all but one of her boilers.  Admiral Fletcher moved his flag to the heavy cruiser U.S.S. Astoria.

Damage control parties could temporarily patch the flight deck and restore power to several boilers within an hour.  Yorktown achieved a speed of 19 knots (22 m.p.h.), enabling her to resume air operations.  Lost in the attack were thirteen Japanese dive bombers and three fighter escorts.  Two damaged fighters turned back after attacking American SBD’s returning to Enterprise.

About an hour later, a second wave from Hiryū’s, consisting of ten B5Ns and six escorting A6Ms, arrived over Yorktown; the crew’s repair efforts had been so effective that the Japanese pilots assumed the carrier to be a different, undamaged ship.  Yorktown was crippled with an additional two torpedoes.  She lost all power and developed a twenty-three-degree list to port.  During their attack, the Japanese lost five torpedo bombers and two fighters.  News of these two air strikes, with the mistaken conclusion that the attacks had destroyed two American carriers, improved Japanese morale.  The few surviving aircraft aboard Hiryū and improved confidence convinced some Japanese crewmen that they could scrape together enough aircraft for another airstrike against what they thought was the only remaining American carrier.

The Americans fight back

Late in the afternoon, a scout plane from Yorktown located Hiryū, prompting Enterprise to launch a final strike of 24 dive bombers (including 6 SBDs from VS-6, 4 SBDs from VB-6, and 14 orphaned SBDs from Yorktown’s VB-3.  Despite more than a dozen Japanese fighters flying CAP above Hiryū, four (possibly five) bombs hit the Japanese carrier, leaving her ablaze and unable to launch or recover aircraft.  Another strike was launched from Hornet — late due to miscommunications, concentrated on the remaining escort ships but failed to score any hits.

After futile attempts at controlling the blaze, Japanese crew members abandoned Hiryū while the remainder of the fleet continued sailing northeast to intercept the American carriers.  Despite a scuttling attempt by a Japanese destroyer that hit her with a torpedo and then departed quickly, Hiryū stayed afloat for several more hours, being discovered early the following day by an aircraft from the escort carrier Hōshō and prompting hopes she could be saved, or at least towed back to Japan — but soon after being spotted, Hiryū sank.  Rear-Admiral Tamon Yamaguchi and ship’s captain Tomeo Kaku decided to go down with their ship.

At sundown, the Americans and the Japanese planned to continue the fight.  Admiral Fletcher ceded command to Ray Spruance, believing he could not further command his fleet.  For his part, Admiral Spruance knew that the United States had won a great victory, but he was unsure of what Japanese forces remained in the area.  What he was sure of was that he would defend Midway Island and the U.S. carrier fleet.

To aid his still-airborne aviators, Spruance, pilots who had launched at an extreme range, continued to close with Nagumo — at night with decks lit to aid in navigation.  Finally, fearing a possible night encounter with Japanese surface forces and believing Yamamoto would persist in his attack, Spruance withdrew to the east and turned west towards the enemy’s last known position at midnight.

Spruance was right: Yamamoto did intend to continue the engagement.  He sent his remaining surface forces searching eastward for the American carriers.  He also dispatched a cruiser raiding force to bombard Midway Atoll.  Spruance was also fortunate he decided to withdraw eastward because had he come into contact with Yamamoto’s heavy ships (including the massive battleship Yamato), given Japan’s superiority in night-attack tactics, historians think Spruance would have been overwhelmed, and his carriers lost.

Despite extensive searches for the Japanese on 5 June, Spruance failed to regain contact with Yamamoto — but at 0215 on 6 June, Commander John Murphy, commanding U.S.S. Tambor (SS-198), was lying 90 nautical miles west of Midway Atoll and made the second of the submarine service’s two major contributions to the Battle of Midway.  Lieutenant Commander Edward Spruance (Admiral Spruance’s son) served under Commander Murphy.  Sighting several ships, neither Murphy nor Spruance could identify them.

Both officers were uncertain of whether they were friend or foe.  Neither was willing to approach any closer to verify their heading or type.  Murphy sent a spot report to the Commander, Submarine Force, Pacific (COMSUBPAC), forwarded to Nimitz, who sent it to Admiral Spruance.  Admiral Spruance, a former submarine commander, was furious at the report’s vagueness.  It forced Spruance to anticipate that the four large ships were part of a large invasion force.  In reality, the ships were those sent by Yamamoto to shell Midway.

Meanwhile, the Japanese sighted Tambor and initiated maneuvers designed to evade an enemy attack.  While chasing down Tambor, the heavy cruisers Mogami and Mikuma collided, inflicting heavy damage to Mogami’s bow.  Mikuma reduced speed to around twelve knots to stay with Mogami.  It was only at early dawn at 0412 that Commander Murphy could tell that the ships were Japanese.  Murphy decided to approach for a torpedo attack, but the effort was unsuccessful.  Noting the approach to two additional Japanese ships, Murphy dived and played no further role in the battle.  As soon as Tambor returned to port, Admiral Spruance relieved Murphy of his command, citing his confusing contact report, inability to score a hit on two damaged cruisers, and lack of command presence.  To be fair, though, only one submarine of twelve assigned to the battle area successfully torpedoed an enemy ship.

Over the following two days, the Americans launched several strikes against Japanese stragglers.  Air strikes eventually sank Mikuma, but Mogami returned to Japan for repairs.  Captain Richard E. Fleming, U.S. Marine Corps, participated in the sinking of Mikuma.  He was killed while executing a glide bomb run.  Fleming was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.

The battle ended with more than 3,000 Japanese deaths, the loss of four aircraft carriers and a heavy cruiser, one heavy cruiser and four destroyers damaged, and 248 destroyed aircraft.  Thirty-seven Japanese sailors were pulled out of the sea.  American losses include one carrier, one destroyer, 150 destroyed aircraft, and 307 killed in action – including Major General Clarence L. Tinker, Commander, Seventh Army Air Force.

Aftermath

Historians refer to the Battle of Midway as the turning point in the Pacific War.  It was a major U.S. victory, something to celebrate in war, but had it gone the other way, the Pacific War would have lasted much longer.

The Japanese continued attempting to seize more territory, but the United States moved from naval parity with the Japanese to superiority.  Midway gave the Americans the initiative, paving the way for landings at Guadalcanal and the protected effort of the Solomon Islands campaign.  But the war was far from over.

Sources:

  1. Evans, D., and others.  Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics, and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy (1887 – 1941).  Naval Institute Press, 1997.
  2. Fuchida, M., and others.  Midway: The Battle that Doomed Japan – the Japanese Navy’s story.  Naval Institute Press, 1955.
  3. Hanson, V. D.  Carnage and Culture: Landmark Battles in the Rise of Western Power.  Doubleday, 2001.

Endnotes:

[1] Japanese Zero’s flying CAP slaughtered all unescorted slow-moving TBD aircraft.  A few TBDs managed to get within a few ship-lengths range of their targets before dropping their torpedoes — close enough to be able to strafe the enemy ships and force the Japanese carriers to make sharp evasive maneuvers — but all of their torpedoes either missed or failed to explode.

Turning Point — Midway, Part I

Introduction

Six months after the Imperial Japanese Navy attack at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and one month following the Battle of the Coral Sea, another naval battle loomed.  It would become known as the Battle of Midway Island.

The first phase of Japan’s strategy in the Pacific was to expand its outposts, which it did by seizing the Philippines, Malaya, Singapore, and the Dutch East Indies (modern-day Indonesia).  Indonesia was particularly interesting to Japan because of its oil resources, which the Japanese desperately needed.  One month after Pearl Harbor, the Japanese began formulating their second phase.  Significant disagreements between the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) and Navy (IJN) delayed a unified plan until April 1942.  The IJN won the debate, if that’s what it was, but only because Admiral Yamamoto threatened to resign should the Emperor decide on the Army’s plan.

Admiral Yamamoto’s central goal was to eliminate the United States’ carrier fleet, which he regarded as the main threat to the overall Pacific campaign.  It was only luck that Yamamoto missed the carrier fleet at Pearl Harbor. 

The Doolittle Raid, launched from the carrier task force of Vice Admiral Halsey on 18 April 1942, only served to heighten Admiral Yamamoto’s concerns about the capabilities of American aircraft carriers.  The raid wasn’t materially significant, but it psychologically shocked Japan’s mistaken notion of invincibility to a foreign attack on the home islands.  Then, several small hit-and-run operations by American carriers in the South Pacific were added to the Doolittle raid.  In 1942, the IJN had a numerical superiority over the American navy in terms of ships, aircraft, and battle-tested pilots — but the Americans had demonstrated that they were still a threat to Japan’s Pacific goals and the Japanese home islands.

Admiral Yamamoto observed that the U.S. Pacific Fleet hesitated to participate in a large-scale sea battle.  Of course, he was correct; the United States had three fleet carriers operating in the Pacific.  Yamamoto decided that a second attack at Pearl Harbor might draw the Americans into a confrontation where Japan’s numerical advantage would shatter the Pacific Fleet.  Since Pearl Harbor, however, the Americans had significantly increased their land-based air capability in Hawaii, and Admiral Yamamoto knew that a second assault might prove entirely too risky.  Instead, Yamamoto selected as his primary target a minuscule atoll at the extreme northwest end of the Hawaiian Island chain 1,300 miles from Oahu.  Midway, he reasoned, was outside the effective range of land-based U.S. aircraft stationed on the main islands.  The only purpose for the attack was to lure the Americans out to fight in an environment where the Japanese believed they stood a good chance of victory.

Why Midway?

The United States had three interests in Midway Island: First, the island was critical for maintaining the Pacific submarine fleet.  Second, Midway was essential to the operation of the U.S. Seaplane Fleet.  Third, Midway was a staging point for bomber missions at Wake Island.

Admiral Yamamoto’s plan for Midway was far too complex.  It required careful coordination of several battle groups over several hundred miles of open sea.  He based his plan on faulty intelligence.  Yamamoto assumed that the U.S.S. Hornet and Enterprise (Task Force 16) were the only American carriers in the Pacific.  A month earlier, during the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Japanese sank the U.S.S. Lexington and believed they had also sunk the U.S.S. Yorktown.  Yorktown was severely damaged but not lost.  Emergency repairs at Pearl Harbor had restored the ship to active service.  Yorktown would play an important role in the discovery of IJN ships.

Yamamoto also misjudged the morale of the US Navy, which he believed was a debilitating factor following Japanese victories of the previous several months.

Yamamoto’s plan called for deception.  To this end, he dispersed his forces to conceal their full extent from the Americans.  To this end, Yamamoto’s battleship fleet (and supporting cruisers) trailed several hundred miles behind the Carrier force.  Yamamoto intended that these assets would charge forward to destroy whatever elements the U.S. Navy had to engage him.  This was a typical naval strategy in 1942.

Admiral Yamamoto did not know that the U.S. Navy had broken Japan’s naval code.  The Americans knew what Yamamoto was going to do.  The American Navy knew Admiral Yamamoto’s supporting fleet would not be properly positioned to support his carrier force.  More than this, the US Navy knew that Yamamoto’s trailing force could not keep pace with his carrier fleet.  This also meant that Japanese scouting planes could not be effectively employed.

Meanwhile, the IJN pledged its support to the IJA’s plan for an invasion of the Aleutian Islands, which necessitated siphoning off naval assets to support the landing forces of the IJA.  Operations in the Aleutians were not so much diversionary as a simultaneous attack on U.S. assets based in Alaska.  It was not a well-coordinated operation, however.  The Aleutian campaign began one full day ahead of the assault on Midway.

The IJN delivered a devastating blow to the United States Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor.  Newly appointed to command the Pacific Ocean Area, Admiral Chester W. Nimitz’s priority was to marshal all his available assets to respond to Japanese aggression.  His resources were meager: Vice Admiral William Halsey’s two-carrier task force and Rear Admiral Frank Fletcher’s carrier force, which included the U.S.S. Yorktown.

The Americans Regroup

Because Admiral Halsey suffered from severe dermatitis, Navy medical officials hospitalized him at the Pearl Harbor Naval Hospital.  Nimitz replaced him with Rear Admiral Raymond Spruance, a battleship commander.  Yorktown, severely damaged in the Battle of the Coral Sea, was quickly restored to battle-ready condition.  It was an arduous task, as her flight deck had to be repaired, internal structures cut out, removed, and replaced.  These tasks were accomplished within 72 hours — after which Yorktown returned to sea with many more repairs performed while underway.

Yorktown’s partially depleted air group was rebuilt or replaced using whatever planes and pilots could be found, including transfers from U.S.S. Saratoga[1].  Many new pilots were not long out of flight school and, therefore, without combat experience.

By 4 June 1942, the U.S. Navy assembled four squadrons of Consolidated Model 28 Catalina (PBY) aircraft (totaling 31) at Midway.  The mission of the Catalina was long-range reconnaissance.  Also located at Midway were six new Grumman Avengers (TBF) transferred ashore from the U.S.S. Hornet.  Marine aircraft squadrons added 19 Douglas Dauntless (SBD), 7 Wildcat F4F-3, 17 Vought Vindicators (SB2U), and 21 Brewster Buffalo (F2A) aircraft.  The Army Air Corps contributed 17 Flying Fortresses (B-17) and 4 Martin Marauders (B-26) (equipped with torpedoes).  In total, the U.S. had 126 aircraft.

There were also equipment shortfalls on the Japanese side.  During the engagement in the Coral Sea, the Japanese lost the light carrier Shoho, and the seriously damaged fleet carrier Shokaku was returned to Japan for repairs.  The carrier Zuikaku escaped battle damage but lost half of her air group and remained dockside awaiting replacement aircraft and pilots.[2]  This was a problem for the Japanese because, in 1942, Japanese training doctrine required carriers and air groups to train and fight as a single unit.  The Americans didn’t have this problem because air groups were interchangeable.

The preceding circumstances meant that IJN Carrier Division 5, which included two of Japan’s advanced carriers, would not be available for the Midway engagement.  Vice Admiral Chūichi Nagumo, commanding the carrier fleet, was thus short one-third of fleet carriers.  Added to this, the Japanese carrier fleet was experiencing combat fatigue.  These sailors had been engaged in combat operations since the previous December.  Another deficiency in the carrier force: it could throw a pretty good punch, but it couldn’t take one.  The Japanese had problems with the carrier fire control systems, and there were too few air patrol aircraft to provide combat air patrol (CAP) (air cover) services to the fleet.  The Japanese also lacked radar capability, experienced radio communications problems with their air groups while aloft, and lacked sufficient command and control over CAP missions.

The Japanese had other problems, as well.  Because the Japanese deployed their carrier escorts as visual scouts at long range from the primary carrier force, they could not support the carrier fleet as close-in anti-aircraft escorts.  The escort ships lacked adequate training for the scouting mission and were insufficiently armed with anti-aircraft armaments.  Worse, perhaps, Japanese scouting was in disarray.

And because Japanese submarines were late getting into position, U.S. carriers arrived at their assembly point northeast of Midway (codenamed Point Luck) undetected.  The Japanese intended to refuel their reconnaissance seaplanes from submarines at French Frigate Shoals; however, U.S. warships were already on station when they arrived at the predesignated point.  As previously noted, the American Navy was reading Japanese operational messages.

From an operational standpoint, the Japanese were approaching a critical battle entirely blind.  The Japanese did notice an increase in communications activity, and this information was in Yamamoto’s hands before the battle, but he made no change in the battle plan.  Yamamoto reasoned that if he could detect increased message traffic, Nagumo could as well.

Battle Stations

At about 0900 on 3 June, a U.S. Navy PBY aircraft piloted by Ensign Jack Reid discovered a Japanese force about five-hundred nautical miles west-southwest of Midway.  He mistakenly reported this group as the main enemy force.  Alerted, nine B-17s departed Midway Island at 1230 for the first air attack.  Three hours later, the B-17s located the transport group 660 miles to the west.  These aircraft experienced heavy anti-aircraft fire, and in their haste, none of the bombs hit Japanese targets.[3]  The first damage to any Japanese vessel occurred the following morning when a PBY struck an oil tanker with an air-launched torpedo.  It was the only successful torpedo attack during the entire battle.

Admiral Nagumo launched his initial attack on Midway at 0430, 4 June.  The attacking force consisted of 36 Aichi (D3A) dive bombers and 36 Nakajima (B5N) torpedo bombers.  These were escorted by 36 Mitsubishi (A6M) (Zero) fighters.  Nagumo also launched eight search aircraft — but these were too few to scout the intended search areas adequately, and poor weather conditions hampered the search effort.  At about this same time, 11 PBYs were taking off from Midway to conduct their own search patterns.  At 0534, a PBY reported sighting two Japanese aircraft carriers; another spotted the inbound Japanese airstrike fifteen minutes later.

Radars at Midway picked up the incoming enemy and scrambled interceptors to meet the threat.  Unescorted bombers headed toward the Japanese carriers, their escorts remaining behind to defend Midway.  Japanese bombing commenced at 0620, inflicting heavy damage to the advanced base.  Marine aircraft were the first to engage the Japanese and suffered heavy casualties, losing two F4F-3s and thirteen F2As.  Most surviving aircraft were heavily damaged.  Only two aircraft remained “airworthy,” but Marine aircraft could destroy four B5Ns and one A6M.

American shore anti-aircraft fires were intense, successfully destroying three Japanese aircraft and damaging several more.  Of the 108 Japanese planes launched, Americans destroyed eleven, damaged fourteen, and inflicted some damage on twenty-nine.  Despite the overwhelming numbers of Japanese aircraft involved in the assault, aircraft operations from Midway Island continued.  Command pilots advised Admiral Nagumo that a second assault would be necessary if he intended to land troops by 7 June.

American bombers made several attacks on the Japanese carrier force.  The Japanese repelled these attacks with the loss of 3 fighters but inflicted heavy damage on 17 American aircraft.  It was during this assault that the Marines lost Major Lofton R. Henderson.[4]  The main airfield at Guadalcanal was later named Henderson Field in his honor.  Admiral Nagumo was determined to make another attack on Midway — a decision that went against Admiral Yamamoto’s order “to retain a reserve strike force armed for anti-ship operations.”

(Continued Next Week)

Sources:

  1. Evans, D., and others.  Kaigun: Strategy, Tactics, and Technology in the Imperial Japanese Navy (1887 – 1941).  Naval Institute Press, 1997.
  2. Fuchida, M., and others.  Midway: The Battle that Doomed Japan – the Japanese Navy’s story.  Naval Institute Press, 1955.
  3. Hanson, V. D.  Carnage and Culture: Landmark Battles in the Rise of Western Power.  Doubleday, 2001.

Endnotes:

[1] USS Saratoga was undergoing repairs in San Diego; despite every effort to ready her for the coming engagement, resupply and the assembly of sufficient carrier escorts hampered her ability to return to the central Pacific in time for the Midway engagement.

[2] One of Japan’s major deficiencies during the war was her inability to train and replace aircrew personnel.  Later in the war, Japan would waste these resources in the so-called Kamikaze air fleet.

[3] These were not scared pilots or morons.  The nerve-racking experience was that of flying a large, slow airplane at point-blank range directly into the muzzles of enemy deck guns.  Since the B-17s didn’t have enough forward firepower to keep those guns down, the army bombers became sitting ducks and “No Joy Commandos.”

[4] Henderson, born in Lorain, Ohio, graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1926.  His initial assignment was in China, where he served as a platoon commander.  The Marine Corps accepted him for flight training in 1928 at San Diego, California.  By 1942, Henderson was a major commanding VMSB-241.  He led the squadron into an attack against the Japanese carrier Hiryu.  Although his aircraft burst into flames during his attack, he continued his assault and perished in delivering his ordnance.  Henderson was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross Medal.