Marine Corps Artillery — Part 2

The Interwar Years and World War II

In between wars

LtCol E. H. Ellis USMC

In seeking to reduce military expenditures between 1921 and 1941, the U.S. government demobilized (most) of its armed forces.  Although somewhat reduced in size following the First World War, the Marine Corps served as an intervention force during the so-called Banana Wars.  While roundly criticized by anti-Imperialists, the Banana Wars nevertheless prepared Marines for the advent of World War II.  Had it not been for those interventions, there would have been no “seasoned” Marine Corps combat leaders in 1941.  Moreover, had it not been for the efforts of Colonel Earl Hancock “Pete” Ellis, author of a thesis written at the Navy War College concerning advanced naval bases (1910) and later, the author of Operation Plan 712: Advanced Base Force: Operations in Micronesia, there would have been no amphibious warfare doctrine in 1941, which was critical to the defense of American interests in the Pacific leading up to World War II.[1]

On 7 December 1933, the Secretary of the Navy established the Fleet Marine Force (FMF).  Its purpose was to modernize the concept of amphibious warfare — initially published and implemented as the Tentative Landing Operations Manual, 1935.  This manual was a doctrinal publication setting forth the theory of landing force operations, organization, and practice.  The Landing Operations Manual prescribed new combat organizations and spurred the development of state-of-the-art amphibious landing craft and ship-to-shore tractors.  The document also addressed aerial and naval support during amphibious landings.  To test these new ideas, the Secretary of the Navy directed a series of Fleet Landing Exercises (FLEX).  FLEXs were conducted in the Caribbean, along the California coast, and in the Hawaiian Islands.  All FLEX exercises were similar to, or mirror images of exercises undertaken by Colonel Ellis in 1914.[2]

The Marine Corps continued this work throughout the 1930s by identifying strategic goals for the employment of FMF units, along with training objectives for all FMF-type units: infantry, artillery, aviation, and logistics.  Oddly, during this period, Major General Commandant Ben H. Fuller decided that the Marine Corps did not need organic artillery.  Fuller reasoned that since landing forces would operate within the range of naval gunfire, artillery units were an unnecessary expense.

General Fuller’s rationale was seriously flawed, however.  The Navy could be depended upon to “land the landing force,” but the safety of combat ships in enemy waters prevented naval commanders from committing to the notion of “remaining on station” while the Marines conducted operations ashore.[3]  Accordingly, the Secretary of the Navy overruled Fuller, directing that FLEX exercises incorporate Marine Corps artillery (provided by the 10th Marines), which at the time fielded the 75-mm pack howitzer.[4]

With its new emphasis on amphibious warfare, the Marine Corps readied itself for conducting frontal assaults against well-defended shore installations — with infantry battalions organized to conduct a sustained operation against a well-fortified enemy.  When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt announced a “limited national emergency.”  Doing so permitted the Marine Corps to increase its recruiting to authorized wartime strength — including Advance Defense Battalions (ADB).

At first, ADBs operated as expeditionary coastal artillery units capable of occupying an undefended beach and establishing “all-around” sea-air defenses.  The average strength of the ADB was 1,372 Marines; their armaments included eight 155-mm guns, 12 90-mm guns, 25 20-mm guns, and 35 50-caliber machine guns.[5]  The staffing demand for twenty (20) ADBs initially fractured the Marine Corps’ artillery community, but approaching Japan’s sneak attack on 7 December 1941, HQMC began organizing its first infantry divisions, including a T/O artillery regiment.

World War II

During World War II, the Marine Corps formed two amphibious corps, each supported by three infantry divisions and three air wings.  In 1941, the capabilities of artillery organizations varied according to weapon types.  For instance, the 10th Marines might have 75mm pack howitzers, while the 11th Marines might field 155-mm howitzers.  But, by 1942, each artillery regiment had three 75-mm howitzer battalions and one 105-mm howitzer battalion.  An additional 105-mm howitzer battalion was added to each regiment in 1943.  By 1945, each artillery regiment hosted four 105-mm battalions.

The Marine Corps re-activated the 11th Marines on 1 March 1941 for service with the 1st Marine Division (1stMarDiv).  The regiment served on Guadalcanal (1942), Cape Gloucester (1943), Peleliu (1944), and Okinawa (1945).  At the end of World War II, the 11th Marines also served in China as part of the Allied occupation forces, returning to Camp Pendleton, California, in 1947.

HQMC re-activated the 10th Marines on 27 December 1942.  Assigned to the 2ndMarDiv, the 10th Marines served on Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian, and Okinawa.  During the Battle of Okinawa, the 10th Marines served as a reserve artillery force.  After Japan’s surrender, the 10th Marines performed occupation duty in Nagasaki, Japan.  The regiment returned to the United States in June 1946.

HQMC activated the 12th Marines on 1 September 1942 for service with the 3rdMarDiv, where it participated in combat operations at Bougainville, Guam, and Iwo Jima.  The 12th Marines were redeployed to Camp Pendleton, California, and de-activated on 8 January 1946.

The 14th Marines reactivated on 1 June 1943 for service with the 4thMarDiv.  The regiment served at Kwajalein, Saipan, Tinian, and Iwo Jima.  Following the Battle of Iwo Jima, the 14th Marines returned to Hawaii, then to Camp Pendleton, where it disbanded on 20 November 1945.

HQMC activated the 13th Marines for service with the 5thMarDiv on 10 January 1944.  Following operations on Iwo Jima, the regiment performed as an occupation force at Kyushu, Japan.  The 13th Marines deactivated at Camp Pendleton, California, on 12 January 1946.

The 15th Marines was activated to serve with the 6thMarDiv on 23 October 1943.  This regiment participated in the Battle of Okinawa and later as an occupation force in Tsingtao, China.  The 15th Marines deactivated on 26 March 1946 while still deployed in China.

(Continued Next Week)

Sources:

  1. Brown, R. J.  A Brief History of the 14th Marines.  Washington: Headquarters, US Marine Corps, 1990
  2. Buckner, D. N.  A Brief History of the 10th Marines.  Washington: US Marine Corps History Division, 1981
  3. Butler, M. D.  Evolution of Marine Artillery: A History of Versatility and Relevance.  Quantico: Command and Staff College, 2012.
  4. Emmet, R.  A Brief History of the 11th Marines.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1968
  5. Kummer, D. W.  U. S. Marines in Afghanistan, 2001-2009.  Quantico: U.S. Marine Corps History Division, 2014.
  6. Russ, M.  Breakout: The Chosin Reservoir Campaign, Korea 1950.  Penguin Books, 1999.
  7. Shulimson, J., and C. M. Johnson.  US Marines in Vietnam: The Landing and the Buildup, 1965.  Washington: Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps, 1978.
  8. Smith, C. R.  A Brief History of the 12th Marines.  Washington: Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps, 1972.
  9. Strobridge, T. R.  History of the 9th Marines.  Quantico: Gray Research Center, 1961, 1967.

Endnotes:

[1] The Advanced Base Force later evolved into the Fleet Marine Force (FMF).

[2] Embarking a Marine combat force aboard US Navy ships or conducting amphibious operations is not a simple task.  The officers and men who plan such operations, and those who implement them, as among the most intelligent and insightful people wearing an American military uniform.

[3] In August 1942, the threat to the Navy’s amphibious ready group by Imperial Japanese naval forces prompted Vice Admiral Frank J. Fletcher, Commander, Task Force 61, to withdraw his force from Guadalcanal before the 1stMarDiv’s combat equipment and stores had been completely offloaded.  Fletcher’s decision placed the Marines in a serious predicament ashore, but the Battle of Savo Island on 9 August proved that Fletcher’s decision was tactically sound. 

[4] A howitzer is a rifled field gun that stands between a cannon and a mortar.  Howitzers are organized as “batteries.”  The 75-mm Howitzer (M-116) was designed in the 1920s to meet the need for a field weapon capable of movement across difficult terrain.  In other words, the weapon could be “packed” into barely accessible areas and used to provide direct artillery support to infantry units.

[5] Such was the 1st Defense Battalion at Wake Island between 8-23 December 1941.


At Rest on Iwo Jima

Colorized version of the Rosenthal Photograph

The battle began on 19 February 1945; it wasn’t over until the end of March.  Some say that this battle has never ended because we continue to remember what happened there.  What happened was that more than 100,000 Americans landed on a volcanic island to take it away from its Japanese defenders so that the U.S. forces could have an emergency landing site for the bomber pilots and crews of the U.S. Army Air Corps.  U.S. forces killed around 19,000 Japanese — and we’re told that 3,000 more were sealed up inside a vast network of caves to suffocate.  Of so many Japanese, the Americans took only 216 as prisoners.  Of the Americans, Japanese defenders killed 6,102 Marines, 719 sailors, 41 soldiers, and wounded 19,709.  One of those killed, whose body the Americans never recovered, was Staff Sergeant Bill Genaust, USMC.

We believe William H. Genaust was born in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, on 12 October 1906, the son of Herman and Jessie Fay Genaust, and raised in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Like many Americans, he enlisted to serve his country during World War II.  For whatever reason, the Marines sent him for training as a photographer — and that’s what he did during the war: combat photography.

Some folks think that combat photography means taking pictures of an ongoing battle — and, of course, that’s entirely true.  But it also means participating in the struggle, particularly when your life is on the line or when your fellow soldiers/Marines are counting on you.  In 1944, Genaust fought alongside his fellow Marines at Saipan and displayed heroic actions during the battle while engaged with determined Japanese enemies and was wounded in action.  Genaust’s superiors nominated him for the award of the Navy Cross for these actions, but the Marine Corps downgraded the award to a Bronze Star medal.  Genaust was a cameraman, you see … not a rifleman.  Sadly, he never lived to receive his Bronze Star medal or his Purple Heart Medal.  Those items would arrive in the mail after he was long dead; the Marine Corps presented them to his next of kin, his wife Adelaide, instead.

Staff Sergeant Genaust could have gone home after receiving severe wounds to his legs on Saipan, but he opted to remain in theater.  After Saipan, after his recovery period, the Marines made Genaust an instructor to teach younger Marines how to take moving action films inside a combat zone.  The Marines were gearing up to participate in another major landing.  Three infantry divisions were placed under an amphibious corps.  Among the 70,000 Marines in readiness for another fight were sixty cameramen.  One of their supervisors was Bill Genaust.

When Staff Sergeant Genaust came ashore on 19 February 1945, he was with the 4th Marine Division. But a few days later, on 22 February, Genaust served with the 28th Marines, 5th Marine Division, near the base of a mountain named Suribachi.  His orders were to film the action taking place at the base of the mountain and he was assisted in this mission by Marine Private First Class (PFC) Bob Campbell.

On the morning of 23 February, while serving as the Executive Officer (XO) of Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 28th Marines, First Lieutenant Harold Schrier volunteered to lead a combat patrol to the top of Mount Suribachi, capture it, and signal his success by raising a flag from the pinnacle of the mountain.  Combat cameraman Staff Sergeant Lou Lowrey accompanied Schrier’s patrol.  At around 10:30 a.m., Lieutenant Schrier and two of his NCOs attached their small flag to a waterpipe that the Japanese had discarded and raised the flag atop Mount Suribachi.  This was the first flag raising, filmed by Staff Sergeant Lowrey. It was seen by almost no one.

SSgt Bill Genaust c.1944-45

At around noon, Genaust and Campbell were told to “join up” with Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal and accompany him to the top of Suribachi.  Rosenthal had also arrived on-island on 19 February but routinely returned to his ship each night — which is how Rosenthal had missed the first flag raising at mid-morning on 23 February.

The problem was that Schrier’s flag was too small to be seen with any clarity from the base of the mountain, so the 28th Marines’ commander produced a much larger flag.  Genaust, Campbell, and Rosenthal were told to accompany four Marines to the top of Suribachi, raise the larger flag, and record it on film.  On the way up, Rosenthal, Genaust, and Campbell met Lowrey, who was on the way back down and told them about the first flag raising.

Once on top, Genaust and Campbell located a second water pipe, attached the larger U.S. flag, and selected a place to anchor it — where it could be seen from any point on the island.  Lieutenant Schrier ordered the first flag lowered as the larger flag went up.  Staff Sergeant Genaust stood off to the left of Joe Rosenthal and filmed the action with his Bell & Howell Auto Master 16mm Motion Picture Camera.  Rosenthal became famous for capturing the flag-raising on black and white still film photography — a picture that appeared in U.S. newspapers on Sunday, 25 February 1945.  Genaust’s film captures other Marines on the summit as they gaze up at the American flag; men who do not appear on Rosenthal’s snap.[1]  Note also, there was an Army and Coast Guard photographer on Suribachi on 23 February 1945.

Within a few days, on 3 March 1945, Genaust’s supervisor reported him “missing in action” during combat operations at the entrance to a large cave near Hill 352-A (on the northern part of the island).  By the end of the next day, he was ruled “killed in action.”  Lieutenant Colonel Donald L. Dickson, who may have served in overall command of Marine combat correspondents and photographers at Iwo Jima, provided a two and a half-page letter to Bill Genaust’s wife, Adelaide.  Dickson’s account began with Sergeant Genaust’s service on Saipan but ended as follows:

As I understand it, a group of Marines were clearing caves of die-hard Japs.  Grenades were thrown in one cave, and it was believed all the enemy were killed.  The Marines wanted to double check and asked Bill if they could borrow his flashlight. Bill said he would go in with them.  They crawled in, and Bill flashed his light around.  There were many Japs still alive, and they immediately opened fire.  Bill dropped without a sound.  As the bearer of the light, he had been the first target for a number of bullets.  I feel sure he never knew what happened to him.

“The Marines forced the Japs deeper into the cave but could not get them out.  More men would have been killed in carrying out of the narrow cave Bill’s lifeless body.

“TNT charges were quickly placed at the cave mouth and exploded. The whole cave mouth was blocked with earth from the explosion, and Bill’s body was completely buried by it.[2]

According to the testimony of Marines present at the scene of Genaust’s death, he was hit multiple times by a Japanese machine gun.  U.S. officials have never recovered Sergeant Genaust’s body; the last attempt made occurred in 2007. 

Sergeant Genaust is one of around 250 Americans still missing from the Battle of Iwo Jima.  A memorial plaque with Genaust’s name inscribed can be found atop the summit of Mount Suribachi.  Moreover, an award in Genaust’s name is presented each year by the Marine Corps Historical Foundation, recognizing the work of military personnel and civilians toward preserving Marine Corps history.

Endnotes:

[1] Bill Genaust’s motion picture footage was used extensively by the National Archives (as reported by Criss Kovac) to identify Marines who participated in the flag-raising event but were earlier misidentified.  See also: USA Today.

[2] U.S. Marine Corps Archive Files, Quantico, Virginia: LtCol Dickson to Adelaide Genaust (3 pages) (undated letter).


By Presidential Decree — Part II

America in 1940

Following the Meiji Restoration in Japan and a devastating economic recession, people began migrating from the Japanese Islands because they needed jobs.  Between 1869 and 1924, some 200,000 Japanese arrived in the Hawaiian Islands.  An additional 180,000 migrated to the US mainland and the majority of those settled on the West Coast.  Many of these people started small businesses and farms.  Most arrived on the mainland before 1908.  In that year, the United States banned the immigration of unskilled workers.  A loophole in the law allowed the wives of men living in the United States to join their husbands — from this, the practice of women marrying by proxy and immigrating to the US, which resulted in a significant increase in the number of picture brides.

The increase of Japanese living in California resulted in steady resistance by European-Americans living on the West Coast.  It was purely and simply racialism, as evidenced by the Asiatic Exclusion League, California Joint Immigration Committee, and Native Sons of the Golden West — all organized in response to the so-called “yellow peril.”  These groups quite effectively influenced politicians to restrict Japanese immigrants’ property and citizenship rights in a manner similar to anti-Chinese migration.  The Immigration Act of 1924 restricted the Japanese in the same way as the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.

One effect of the 1924 ban is that it produced unusually well-defined generational groups within the Japanese-American community.  The Issei, for example, were exclusively those who immigrated before the ban, some of whom elected to return to Japan.  Because the United States placed a moratorium on Japanese immigration.  Within Japanese-American communities, they were called Nisei.  They were distinct from the Issei cohort — generally 15-20 years older than their wives.

Nisei were English speakers; Issei were generally not.  Because the 1924 law prohibited Japanese immigrants from becoming naturalized citizens, the Issei became dependent upon their children whenever they rented or purchased property. By 1940, most Nisei had married and started their own families.  Despite these handicaps, Japanese-Americans made significant contributions to California agriculture (and in other Western states), but overt racism forced them into establishing unique communities.  The communities were, in turn, divided into Japanese prefecture groups.  They also created Buddhist women’s associations, set up businesses to provide loans and financial assistance, and started Japanese language schools.

The rise of fascism in Japan in the 1930s prompted the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) to begin monitoring and surveilling Japanese-American communities in Hawaii.  In 1936, under the direction of Democrat President Franklin D. Roosevelt, the ONI began compiling “suspect lists” of Japanese-Americans — citizens of the United States whom Roosevelt intended to place in “concentration” camps in the event of war with Imperial Japan.

The FBI began working with ONI in 1939.  FDR commissioned a Detroit businessman named Curtis Munson to coordinate these efforts.  In 1941, Munson informed the President that the so-called Japanese-American problem was “non-existent.”  He reported “an extraordinary” degree of loyalty to the United States within Japanese-American communities.  ONI Director Kenneth Ringle made a similar report to the President in 1942.

Still, six weeks after Japan’s “sneak attack” on Pearl Harbor, Army Lieutenant General John L. DeWitt openly questioned the loyalty of Japanese-Americans and proclaimed, “A Jap’s a Jap.”  The State of California vigorously joined DeWitt in questioning Japanese-American loyalty by claiming that persons of Japanese ancestry were “totally unassimilable.”

FDR’s Executive Order 9066 (signed on 19 February 1942) authorized military commanders to designate military exclusion zones at their discretion.  DeWitt did precisely that on 2 March 1942, ordering all Japanese-Americans living within those zones to depart immediately.  Within a few weeks, however, DeWitt reversed himself.  After that, he prohibited Japanese-Americans from leaving these exclusion zones, imposed curfews, and placed restrictions on their freedom of movement.

Only one civilian official protested this treatment: Colorado governor Ralph Lawrence Carr.[1]  Meanwhile, DeWitt issued more than a hundred exclusion orders over the next five months.  By August 1942, federal officials moved American citizens of Japanese ancestry to far distant/remote locations.[2]

Toward the end of the war, the relocation centers began to close.  Of more than 70,000 Japanese-American internees, only three (3) challenged the constitutionality of Roosevelt’s order.  

America Today

Threats to American Constitutional guarantees and liberties continue today.  If the reader believes these historical examples were severe, some today argue that it’s getting even worse.  Certain political groups, activists, and other morons demand restrictions on freedoms of speech, association, and pamphleteering.  Political militants aside, there is no more significant threat to individual liberty than that imposed by the United States government, which conspires to undermine the rights and privileges of American citizenship.

The government’s intrusion into our private lives, as demonstrated by the so-called Patriot Act, the creation of secret courts, the policy of intercepting, reading, and storing data obtained from electronic media, and the government dictate that we (a free people) remain under arrest in our quarters — threatens our American Republic.  The preceding “case histories” serve as warnings to us about presidents and their henchmen who not only think they have extraordinary power over us — they do.

The Supreme Court may safeguard the Constitution, but it does nothing to safeguard the rights of citizens who became victims of the government’s unconstitutional overreach.  It did nothing to free those who sat in isolated cells while remaining uncharged, unindicted, and untried by a jury of their peers.  The high court did not prevent Woodrow Wilson from targeting Americans for expressing their dissenting opinions, and it did nothing to protect Japanese-Americans from President Roosevelt’s Gestapo.

We know what the federal government is capable of doing.  With this knowledge, every American must view politicians, bureaucrats, and government policy with deep suspicion.  No government is trustworthy.  After all, the government reintroduced blacks to the slavery of low expectation and government subsidy; in the same way, the government destroyed the American Indians.  It remains up to people who value their liberty to refuse to relinquish their human rights, their rights as citizens.  No one in the government will protect us.  Preserving our freedom is OUR duty.

Sources:

  1. Connell, T.  America’s Japanese Hostages: The US Plan for a Japanese Free Hemisphere.  Praeger-Greenwood, 2002.
  2. McGinty, B.  The Body of John Merryman: Abraham Lincoln and the Suspension of Habeas Corpus.  Harvard University Press, 2011.
  3. Hall, K. L. (Ed.)  The Oxford Companion to the Supreme Court of the United States.  Oxford University, 1992.
  4. Lewis, W.  Without Fear or Favor: A Biography of Chief Justice Roger Brooke Taney.  Houghton Mifflin, 1965.
  5. Robinson, G.  By Order of the President: FDR and the Internment of Japanese Americans.  Harvard University Press, 2009.

Notes:

[1] Carr also lost his bid for reelection because of his stance.

[2] Tule Lake, California, Minidoka, Idaho, Manzanar, California, Topaz, Utah, Jerome, Arkansas, Heart Mountain, Wyoming, Poston, Arizona, Granada, Colorado, and Rohwer, Arkansas.

My thanks to Mr. Koji KANEMOTO for his much-valued assistance and participation in the research, preparation, and editing of this post.


The Spook

Edward Geary Lansdale

A son of Michigan, Ed Lansdale was born in 1908 and later raised in Los Angeles, California.  He was one of four sons born to Sarah and Henry Lansdale.  After graduating from high school, he worked his way through the University of California (Los Angeles) by writing articles for newspapers and magazines.  He later began work in advertising in the Los Angeles and San Francisco areas.

At the start of World War II, Lansdale joined the U. S. Army Air Corps, where he was subsequently classified as an intelligence officer and seconded to the Office of Strategic Services (OSS).  Lansdale’s OSS assignment eventually took him to the Philippine Islands, but the timing and duration of this assignment are unknown.  During the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, U. S. Army Lieutenant Colonel Wendell Fertig led the primary resistance movement — but it may be true that Lansdale and the OSS played a role in MacArthur’s return to Luzon.  After leaving the Philippines in 1948, the Air Force assigned Lansdale as an instructor at the Strategic Intelligence School, Lowry Air Force Base, Colorado.  While serving in this capacity, the Air Force advanced Lansdale to a temporary lieutenant colonel.

In 1950, the President of the Philippine Islands, Elpidio Quirino, personally requested that Lansdale return to the Joint United States/Philippines Military Assistance Group to assist the Philippines in combatting the Communist Hukbalahap (also, Huks).  Lansdale, an early believer in psychological warfare, adopted a tactic used earlier by the Japanese during the Empire’s occupation of the Philippines.  In Philippine folklore, Aswangs are blood-sucking demons; Lansdale’s ploy spread rumors in the Philippines about these Aswangs.  Lansdale managed the capture of one of the communist soldiers and drained the blood from his body, leaving his remains where it could be found near a popular pathway.  This ploy seemed to convince many of the Hukbalahap to leave their operations area.  To what long-term effect this ploy had on most Huks in the Philippines is unknown. 

During Lansdale’s time in the Philippines, he became close friends with Ramon Magsaysay, then the Philippines’ Secretary of National Defense.  Some historians suggest that Lansdale had a hand in Magsaysay’s bid for the presidency, which he achieved on 30 December 1953.  Lansdale is also credited with developing civic actions programs and policies designed to help rehabilitate Huks prisoners of war.

Before leaving his assignment in the Philippine Islands, Lansdale served as a temporary member of General John W. O’Daniel’s mission to Indochina in 1953.[1]  As an advisor to French Indochinese forces (counter-guerrilla warfare), Lansdale’s mission was to suggest successful strategies against the Viet Minh (Vietnamese communist guerrillas) — but of course, the French had been fighting Indochinese nationalists for several decades in advance of World War II, so it not clear what contributions Lansdale might have made to the French effort.[2]  

It was a strange set of circumstances that after the OSS helped organize and arm Indochinese guerrilla forces (beginning in 1943), that the U. S. military would then (initially) assist the French in fighting these same guerillas — and even stranger still that the United States would take over that effort after France’s defeat at Dien Bien Phu.

After leaving the Philippine Islands, Lansdale’s next assignment was as a permanent advisor to the Military Assistance Group (Indochina) from 1954 to 1957, heading the military mission in Saigon, South Vietnam.  In addition to directing the training for the Vietnamese National Army (VNA), he helped organize the Caodaist militias.  He instituted a propaganda campaign to encourage Vietnamese Catholics (most of whom lived in North Vietnam) to move to South Vietnam.[3]

While in Saigon, Lansdale ingratiated himself with emerging leader Ngo Dinh Diem.  It was not very soon afterward that Lansdale moved into the Vietnamese White House upon Diem’s invitation.  This may have resulted from the fact that Lansdale helped to foil the attempted coup d’état of General Nguyen Van Hinh.

In one “egg on his face” episode, Lansdale began working with and mentoring Pham Xuan An, a reporter for Time Magazine.  Mr. An, as it turned out, was a highly valued North Vietnamese spy who, in addition to reporting on events in Vietnam, regularly provided helpful information to the government in Hanoi — information he obtained directly from Edward Lansdale.  In the good news department, Lansdale also mentored and trained CIA operative, John Deutch.  Mr. Deutch was one of the so-called Whiz Kids associated with Robert S. McNamara.  Deutch later became Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, and, as it turned out, no one killed more troops during the Vietnam War than Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara.

From 1957 to 1963, Edward Lansdale served in Washington, D. C. first, as Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Special Operations and a member of the President’s advisory committee on military assistance, and later as Assistant Secretary of Defense for Special Operations.

In the early 1960s, Lansdale was primarily involved in covert operations designed to topple the government of Cuba, including proposals to assassinate Fidel Castro.  Known as the Cuban Project (also Operation Mongoose), Lansdale’s plan called for an extensive campaign of terrorist attacks against civilians by CIA hired insurgents and CIA covert operations designed to exploit the insurgents’ successes.  The plan received the approval of President John F. Kennedy in 1961 and went into effect after the failed Bay of Pigs Invasion.

Even today, the U. S. government argues against the notion that the Cuban project (and its methodologies) were extralegal.  We know that along with Operation Mongoose was yet another, darker scheme, dubbed Operation Northwoods.  Northwoods called upon the U. S. military to create a series of incidents involving the loss of American and Cuban exile’s lives through the actions of phony Cuban revolutionaries.  The idea was to sufficiently enrage the American public to demand war against Castro’s Cuba.  Involved with Lansdale was William K. Harvey (CIA), Samuel Halpern (CIA), and Lansdale’s assistant, Daniel Ellsberg (of Pentagon Papers fame).  As bad as President Kennedy’s approval, the mastermind for this project was his brother Robert, the Attorney General of the United States.

Major General Lansdale retired from the U. S. Air Force on 1 November 1963.  Ngo Dinh Diem was assassinated on 2 November 1963.  President John F. Kennedy was assassinated on 22 November 1963.  According to retired U. S. Air Force Colonel L. Fletcher Prouty, a former subordinate of Lansdale, Edward Lansdale’s fingerprints are all over Kennedy’s assassination.[4]

After he retired from the Air Force, Lansdale returned to Vietnam (1965-68), where he worked in the United States Embassy in a position of ministerial rank — except that no one seems to know what Lansdale’s function was at the Embassy.  Some have suggested he may have been the Dirty Little Tricks Officer.[5]

I leave my readers with the question of whether Colonel Prouty or Dr. Ellsberg have any credibility regarding Lansdale’s or the CIA’s involvement with the Kennedy assassination.  However, Eugene Burdick and William Lederer’s book titled The Ugly American (1958) may have modeled Colonel Hillandale’s character on Edward Lansdale.  Prouty’s book is no longer in print, but it is available “Online for education purposes at JAG 07146.co.nr.”  The URL co. nr is a “cloaking/masking” protocol.

From my perspective, there is a great danger in organizations that have limited or no oversight by the government (and people) whom they serve.  It is a disaster just waiting to happen (noting that some will argue it already has).  People with peculiar skills will respond to what their bosses tell them is “in the national interests,” and most carry out these assignments without ever questioning the legality or morality of their missions.   

Sources:

  1. Bamford, J.  Body of Secrets.  Doubleday, 2001.
  2. Boot, M.  The Road Not Taken: Edward Lansdale and the American Tragedy in Vietnam.  Norton & Company, 2018.
  3. Currey, C. B.  Edward Lansdale, the Unquiet American.  Houghton Mifflin, 1988.
  4. Elliston, J.  Psy War on Cuba: The Declassified History of US Anti-Castro Propaganda.  Ocean Press, 1999.
  5. McAlister, J.  “The lost revolution: Edward Lansdale and the American Defeat in Vietnam, 1964-1968, Small Wars and Insurgencies, 2003.

Endnotes:

[1] LtGen O’Daniel saw combat service in both world wars and Korea.  Known as an outspoken officer in the same vein as George Patton, Eisenhower nevertheless appointed him to command the Military Assistance Group, Indochina.

[2] Given the sequence of events of World War II, where we find that the entire French army fell to the Germans in only six weeks, the subsequent collaboration with Germany and Japan of the Vichy government, and France’s inglorious return to Indochina in 1946, senior French colonial officials were in no mood to accept the advice of American military officers.  Their only inducement the French had to listen to what American military officers had to say was the monetary and material support offered to them by the U. S. government.

[3] Operation Passage to Freedom changed an important demographic in Vietnam.  Before 1954, most Vietnamese Catholics lived in North Vietnam.  After 1956, Vietnamese Catholics held the popular majority in South Vietnam, 55% of whom were refugees from North Vietnam.  To help facilitate this move, Lansdale air-dropped leaflets into Vietnam showing concentric circles drawn on a map, which suggested that a nuclear strike on North Vietnam may be imminent.

[4] Of course, if that were true, then Lansdale and all his co-conspirators would have to be the best-ever secret keepers in the history of the planet.  In the forward to his second revision of The Secret Team, Prouty claims that the CIA managed to abscond with “at least” 300,000 copies of his book that had been shipped by his publisher to Australia.

[5] Robert S. McNamara got his start as a “dirty trickster” in World War II.  Known as one of the “Whiz Kids,” McNamara moved to the board of Ford Motor Company before being named as JFK’s Secretary of Defense.  His “genius” resulted in significant American and RVN casualties during the Vietnam War.  


Those Other American Heroes

Origins

Japanese Temple

In the 1880s, scores of Japanese citizens made their way to the Hawaiian Islands and the western United States.  Amazingly, they arrived after the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.  Federal law prohibited Hawaiian plantation owners from hiring much-needed laborers from China, but nothing was to preclude them from engaging the Japanese.  About half of the Japanese workers arriving in Hawaii eventually made their way to California, Oregon, and Washington.  Within twenty years, around 100,000 Japanese had made their migration across the Pacific.  This migration would not have happened without the permission of Japan’s Meiji Emperor, of course, but by 1924, Japanese immigrants to Hawaii and the western states exceeded 200,000.  By 1920, around 40% of the population of Hawaii was Japanese.

The question is, why would so many Japanese want to immigrate to a land so foreign to them in language and culture?  One explanation is that the Japanese government pushed many of its citizens out of their own country.  The Meiji period was one of rapid industrialization and modernization.  The only people suitable for such a shift were educated individuals willing to open their minds to a new way of living.  But there was also a monetary cost to modernization — costs imposed on Japanese farmers in the form of high taxes.  In the 1880s, more than 300,000 Japanese farmers lost their farmlands because they could not pay the Meiji taxes.  When information arrived in Japan that Hawaiian pineapple producers needed laborers, it set into motion “netsu” fever — immigration fever.

Japanese who were of a mind to immigrate realized that if you snooze, you lose.  Hawaiian plantation owners offered the unbelievably high wages of $30.00 a month.  It was no sacrifice to the plantation owners, of course, who also had the advantage of circumstances that precluded the Japanese from forming labor organizations.  Initially, the immigrants were mostly men who, without women, became a lonely, unhappy lot in Hawaii.  This problem was solved when plantation owners devised a plan for “picture brides.”  Picture brides were encouraged by the Meiji government because — well, in Japan, women have limited roles.  Besides, the “picture bride” scheme fits somewhat nicely with Japanese traditional (arranged) marriages.

Institutional Discrimination

If the American people weren’t happy with Chinese folks, the die was cast when waves of Japanese people began moving to California, people who, in the eyes of that translated Oklahoma farmer looked the same as Chinese.  In 1906, the San Francisco School Board excluded 93 Japanese students from attending public school.  They should, instead, attend “Chinese schools.”  Japanese parents first tried to change the mind of school board members, who were under pressure from the Asiatic Exclusion League (AEL).  The goals of the AEL were simple enough: end Japanese immigration.  When the school board refused to reconsider their idiotic ruling, Japanese parents kicked up a fuss, prompting diplomatic problems in Washington.  President Theodore Roosevelt supported the Japanese, although not because he disagreed with racial exclusion, but because he was trying to broker a peace deal between Japan and Russia.  Eventually, San Francisco rescinded their segregation order, which enabled Roosevelt to negotiate a “gentleman’s agreement” with the Japanese government to stop issuing exit visas to Japanese laborers.

Today, school segregation might seem appalling, but in 1906, some Japanese (or other Asians) might have been just as happy with that arrangement as were the whites.  Asians value their culture and wish, whenever possible, to preserve it.  The formation of Chinese or Japanese districts in California wasn’t something simply imposed upon them by whites.  In 1906, Asians preferred their own company and still do.  A considerable section of the Westminster section of Orange County, California, now caters to Vietnamese.

In 1913, California’s legislature passed the California Alien Land Law.  The Webb-Haney Act prohibited “aliens ineligible for citizenship” from owning farmland or possessing long-term leases over it.  The law applied to Chinese, Indian, Japanese, and Korean immigrants — although the law was aimed directly at the Japanese farmer.  Of course, limiting land ownership to people eligible for citizenship does appear reasonable even if the average Joe living in California didn’t care who owned the land.  But white farmers cared.  They preferred not to compete with Japanese farmers for a share of the agricultural market — and wealthy white farmers and industrialists have a tremendous influence in California politicians.

If there was any question about institutional discrimination in 1920, the federal government put that issue to rest with the Immigration Act of 1924.  The Act was a combination of three federal laws that included a process of excluding Asians through quota limitations, by country, and through the creation of the US Border Patrol to enforce those limitations.  The Japanese government was not particularly happy with the Immigration Act of 1924, but there was little they could do about it beyond adding this irritation to a growing list of complaints about American policies.

The federal government doubled down on the Japanese-American population on 19 February 1942 when President Franklin D. Roosevelt ordered 127,000 people of Japanese ancestry into internment camps.  Around 112,000 of those people lived on the west coast.  Roosevelt, by executive order 9066, ordered all of them to surrender to the War Relocation Authority.  The federal government took most of those on the west coast to about a dozen internment camps located in California, Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming, Arkansas, and Utah.

According to some (perhaps, even, many) proof of white racism in the United States was the internment of Japanese-American citizens during World War II.  There may have been racialists in the Roosevelt administration, and indeed, there probably were, but Franklin Roosevelt’s decision to act pursuant to the Alien Enemies Act (1798, amended) was legal — and prudent — on 12 December 1945.  Under this authority, the President may apprehend, restrain, imprison, or deport any non-citizen enemy of the United States.  President Roosevelt exercised this authority by issuing Executive Proclamations 2525 (Alien Enemies-Japanese), 2526 (Alien Enemies-German), and 2527 (Alien Enemies-Italian).  

As for interning citizens of the United States, Executive Order 9066 does not mention any person whatsoever.  It merely asserts the following: “Whereas the successful prosecution of the war requires every possible protection against espionage and sabotage to national-defense material, national-defense premises, and national defense utilities […] authorize and direct the Secretary of War, and the military commanders […] to prescribe military areas in such places and of such extent […] from which any or all persons may be excluded, and with respect to which, the right of any person to enter, remain in, or leave, shall be subject to whatever restrictions the Secretary of War […] may impose in his discretion.”

Were the President to intern only Japanese-American citizens, then we could make a reasonable claim toward racist policies of a white president toward Asian citizens of the United States, but in fact, citizens of the United States of Japanese, German,[1] and Italian ancestry were interned throughout the United States during World War II.[2]

The War

In 1940, there was no shortage of Americans who spoke fluent German, and there was no shortage of people who understood German culture.  However, one article in early 1942 claimed that no more than 100 non-Japanese persons could speak Japanese with any fluency, and none of them understood Japanese culture.[3]  This is an essential aspect of language proficiency because culture often dictates linguistic nuances and facial expressions while speaking.  It wasn’t long after the United States entered into World War II that the War Department realized that Japanese language specialists would become vital to winning the war against Japan.

Here’s what the War Department did know: that, beginning in early December 1941, Imperial Japan had handed the United States and its allies one major defeat after another, from the Japanese Navy’s attack at Pearl Harbor, to tossing the United States out of the Philippines. Japan’s assault was so sudden and unexpected that they destroyed nearly all MacArthur’s aircraft while they were sitting on numerous airfields. Japan also caused the British, French, and Dutch empires in Southeast Asia to fold like a deck of cards, and then on top of all this, the Japanese Empire threatened India, Australia, Alaska, Hawaii, and the West Coast of the United States.  Everyone living in California expected a massive Japanese invasion following Doolittle’s Raid on Tokyo.

American field commanders were desperate for information about Japanese intentions.  Only one group of people in the United States could help answer these questions: Japanese-Americans.  Despite the wholesale internment of Japanese-American citizens, there was not a single instance of any Japanese citizen acting against the United States’ interests in time of war.  None.

Still, until May 1942, the concept of using Nisei (the children of Japanese-born parents) as language interpreters, translators, and interrogators was untested.  The United States created the Fourth Army Intelligence School to test this hypothesis.  The initial results were so successful that the War Department stepped up the training of Japanese-American intelligence specialists.  The success in using Japanese linguists also led the War Department to employ Japanese as all-Nisei combatants in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team (RCT) and 100th (Independent) Infantry Battalion.

On 1 May 1942, the first 40 Japanese-American intelligence specialists (and two officers) graduated from an old, dilapidated hangar at the Fourth Army Intelligence School at Crissy Field.  But these graduates had no idea what awaited them after graduation — and neither did the War Department.  When orders finally arrived for these young men, they still didn’t know where they were going.  In a few weeks, the Navy would win two important sea battles, but only barely.  A few weeks later, Marines would land on Guadalcanal, but their hold on that god-forsaken island would remain tenuous for nearly half a year.  In mid-April 1942, even before class graduation, Army Lieutenant Colonel Moses W. Pettigrew, Head of the Eastern branch of the Military Intelligence Division, allocated one officer and five Nisei language specialists to the US 37th Infantry Division.  However, the division commander would only accept them once Pettigrew certified that these men were reliable, useful, and trustworthy.  Colonel Pettigrew had no hesitance in doing that.

But Pettigrew was hesitant to offer Nisei linguists beyond his capability to provide them.  Forty recent graduates weren’t many, considering the size of the battlespace.  In that first class, of 58 enrolled Nisei, only 40 graduated.  The washout rate was even worse for Caucasian officers.  Of 36 officers who volunteered for the course, only two graduated.  It was a situation that forced Pettigrew into making tough choices about where to send his limited number of Nisei.  One Caucasian officer and eight Nisei went to MacArthur’s headquarters in Australia.  One officer and three Nisei ended up with the US 37th; six Nisei went to New Caledonia.

None of Pettigrew’s graduates went to Hawaii.  The Military Department of Hawaii didn’t want any Japanese-American soldiers, no matter what their specialty.  In fact, after the start of the war, the Selective Service Board of Hawaii suspended inductions of Japanese-Americans, even after 2,000 Nisei were already serving in uniform.  Most of these men ultimately ended up in the 100th (Independent) Infantry Battalion.  Still, in the meantime, as Army and Navy commanders struggled to meet the growing demand for Japanese language specialists, a couple of thousand Nisei in Hawaii found themselves performing engineering tasks and guard duty assignments.

In April 1942, the Army’s Military Intelligence Division dispatched Nisei Masanori Minamoto to Bora Bora, where he was assigned to the 102nd Infantry.  Since Minamoto had no intelligence tasks and no prisoners to interrogate, the Army assigned him to drive a truck.  Driving trucks, standing guard duty, and digging ditches are all these young specialists did through 1942; no one was sure what they were supposed to do.  Occasionally, their commanders tasked them with translating Japanese magazines, books, and letters confiscated by residents — but beyond that, there were no “mission essential” tasks for them to perform.

In August, two American submarines carried a Marine raiding party to Makin Island in the Central Pacific to discover Japanese intentions.  One of these Marines was Captain Gerald P. Holtom, who was born and raised in Japan.  When the Marines returned to Hawaii, they had large quantities of captured Japanese documents, including Japanese plans, charts, orders of battle, and top-secret maps indicating air defenses, military strengths, methods of alerts, types of material, and so on forth.  What these Marines did not bring back with them was Captain Holtom; he was killed and left behind on Makin Island.

The Marines had a handful of men who could speak Japanese when they went ashore at Tulagi and Guadalcanal, but no Nisei.  While the Marines did capture a few prisoners, they could not extract any useful information.  The Marines might have taken a few more Japanese prisoners, but at this point in the war, Marines were in no mood for it, and Marine officers had yet to learn the value of interrogating prisoners rather than shooting them.  It wasn’t entirely the Marines’ fault.

On 12 August, the 1st Marine Division intelligence officer, Lieutenant Colonel Frank B. Goettge, led a combat patrol behind Japanese lines to capture enemy prisoners.  Accompanying the patrol was First Lieutenant Ralph Cory, a Japanese language officer.  Goettge and his Marines walked into a murderous ambush and had to withdraw.  Goettge and Cory were among the wounded men the Marines, out of necessity, had left behind.  Upon returning to friendly lines, the surviving Marines told their story of Japanese soldiers executing the wounded Marines in a most grizzly fashion.  The account spread throughout the command, which convinced Marines that the Japanese were untrustworthy, treacherous bastards.  Afterward, combat Marines were not inclined to take any prisoners.  This attitude was not lost on the Army’s Nisei linguists; they tended to give the Marines a wide birth.

Six additional Nisei intelligence specialists arrived on Guadalcanal between September-November 1942 (and several more school-trained Caucasian officers).  On Tulagi, Marines discovered a list of call signs and code names for all Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) ships and airbases.  The G-1 flew this information to Noumea, where Nisei worked for several days to translate it.  The primary translator, Shigeru Yamashita (California born but raised in Japan until the age of 19), testified to the task’s difficulty but stated that everyone realized the importance of their work and every Nisei wanted to prove their loyalty to the United States.  This is undoubtedly true, but the Marines and soldiers in the forward areas didn’t know that.

The only good Jap …

Captain John A. Burden was born in Japan and rated as an excellent speaker of Japanese.  The Army sent him to New Caledonia with three Nisei translators.  There was little work for translators on New Caledonia, but elsewhere, field commanders were begging for Japanese language specialists.  Despite this demand, Captain Burden languished on that isolated island.  In December, Admiral Halsey visited with the US 37th Infantry Division.  During his visit, the Division G-2 commented, “Sir, I understand you’re looking for a Japanese Language Officer.”  Admiral Halsey replied, “They’re driving me crazy for one, but I don’t know where to find one.”  The G-2 then introduced Captain Burden to Halsey, and the following day, Burden was en route to Guadalcanal.

On Guadalcanal, Burden found two Marine officers and five enlisted men working as interrogators.  Of the seven Marines, only one had any proficiency in the language.  To test their ability, Burden had each Marine interrogate every POW, but at the end of the day, the only information they had was the POW’s name and rank.  What Burden learned was that none of these Marine really understood Japanese.  Burden sent them back to the line.  When he interviewed the POWs, there almost wasn’t enough paper to write down all these prisoners had to say.

On 17 December, the US 25th Infantry Division joined the 1st Marine Division and Army Americal Division on Guadalcanal.  It wasn’t long before Captain Burden noted that soldiers were as reluctant as the Marines to take prisoners.  Burden heard one regimental commander berating his men for bringing in prisoners.  He told his men, “Don’t bother taking prisoners, just shoot the sons of bitches.  The only good Jap is a dead Jap.”  The standard excuse for not bringing in prisoners was that they were “shot while trying to escape.”  Eventually, Burden convinced regimental and battalion commanders of the value of Japanese interrogations and translating documents.  Afterward, field commanders promised ice cream and a three-day off-island pass to anyone who would bring in a live prisoner.  Within a short time, Captain Burden was processing an astonishing amount of information, and what Burden learned from this was that the Japanese were nearly manic in their penchant for writing things down.

Conclusion

Early in the war, the War Department saw propaganda value in forming and maintaining segregated units, generally divided into African, Puerto Rican, Filipino, and Japanese units.  Thus, during 1942, the War Department organized the 1st Filipino Infantry in California, battalion-sized units of Norwegians, Austrians, and Greeks.  Henry L. Stimson complained to Roosevelt about such formations.  He wanted to Americanize the U. S. Army, not segregate it.  Roosevelt demurred, essentially telling Stimson, “I must be the one to determine the advantages, if any.”  So, at the end of November 1942, the War Department decided to form a Nisei regiment.  In announcing the new unit, the always political Roosevelt said, “No loyal citizen of the United States should be denied the democratic right to exercise the responsibilities of his citizenship, regardless of his ancestry.”  The first Nisei volunteers reported to Camp Shelby, Mississippi, for training in April 1943.  The catalyst for this entire process was the initial graduates of the Fourth Army Intelligence School.  The Nisei of military intelligence may not have assaulted the German machineguns in Italy, but there is little doubt that these Japanese language experts saved American lives by providing critical information to field commanders on their march across the Pacific.  The definition of someone who saves lives is … hero.[4]

Sources:

  1. Connell, T.  America’s Japanese Hostages: The US Plan for a Japanese-free Hemisphere.  Praeger-Greenwood, 2002.
  2. De Nevers, N. C.  The Colonel and the Pacifist: Karl Bendetsen, Perry Saito, and the Incarceration of Japanese Americans During World War II.  University of Utah Press, 2004.
  3. Glidden, W.  “Internment Camps in America, 1917-1920,” Military Affairs, v.37 (1979), 137-41.
  4. Harth, E.  Last Witness: Reflections on the Wartime Internment of Japanese Americans.  Palgrave, 2001.
  5. Krammer, A.  Undue Process: The Untold Story of America’s German Alien Internees. Rowan & Littlefield, 1997.

Endnotes:


[1] According to the 1940 census, 1.2 million persons identified as being of German birth; 5 million persons claimed German-born parents; 6 million persons claimed one parent born in Germany.  A large number of these people had “recent connections” to Germany.  The numbers involved and their political and economic influences explain why there was no “large scale” relocation and internment.  However, an estimated 12,000 German-American citizens were interned during World War II.

[2] German-American citizens were similarly interned during World War I.

[3] Life Magazine, September 1942.

[4] This work was prepared as a collaborative effort with Mr. Koji Kanemoto, whose family endured the indignity of Roosevelt’s internment policies, and whose father served in the U. S. Army Military Intelligence Service.

The American Diplomat Responsible for the Pacific War

Introduction

Walk softly but carry a big stick is a South African axiom most often attributed to former President Theodore Roosevelt.  I find no fault in this adage because I believe that a quiet voice is more respected than a loud bully tone, and when reinforced by a no-nonsense foreign policy, the world becomes much safer for everyone.  The saying, along with President Washington’s sage advice —beware of foreign entanglements — should be the foundation of American foreign policy, but that has not been our diplomatic history.  We are forever involving the American people in foreign affairs that are really none of our business.

Over many years, I have developed a low opinion of diplomats, generally, because their fatuousness has cost the American people dearly in material wealth and the loss of loved-ones.  And, or so it seems, US diplomats never seems to learn any worthwhile lessons from the past.  Worse, diplomats never answer for their ghastly mistakes.  If it is true that military intervention is the product of failed diplomacy, then all one has to do to reach my conclusions (about American diplomacy) is count the number of our country’s wars.

There is no reason to maintain a strong, technologically superior force structure if we never intend to use it.  The decision to employ our military is, of course, a political question.  Once the question has been answered, the military’s civilian masters should step back, out of the way, and allow the military to achieve our national objectives — which hopefully have something to do with national defense.  If the American people must give up a single soldier or sailor to military action, then the United States should walk away from the conflict with something to show for having made that sacrifice.  This has not been case in every conflict.

Background

On 3 July 1853, US warships under the command of Commodore Matthew C. Perry sailed into Tokyo Harbor; their arrival threw the Empire of Japan into turmoil.  The purpose of Perry’s visit was to end Japan’s long practiced isolationist policies.  The Tokugawa Shogunate (government) initially had no interest in meeting with Commodore Perry, but a modest demonstration of the U. S. Navy’s firepower convinced the Japanese that it could be in their national interests to at least hear what the Americans had to say.  Negotiations were proceeding well enough, after a rough beginning, but before they could be concluded, the Shogun (generalissimo), Tokugawa Ieyoshi, died of a stroke.  Whether Commodore Perry’s unexpected visit contributed to Ieyoshi’s death is unknown, but he was soon replaced by his physically weak son Iesada[1].

Soon after Perry’s agreement with the Shogunate to open its ports to American ships for purposes of reprovisioning ships and trade, Great Britain, Russia, and other European powers imposed their own treaties upon the Japanese.  Since Iesada was physically unable to participate in negotiations with foreigners, the task was assigned to the rōjū (elder[2]) Abe Masahiro.  Rather than participate in this national embarrassment, Masahiro also resigned, replaced by Hotta Masayoshi.  Masayoshi was responsible for the treaties negotiated with the United States, United Kingdom, and Russia — collectively known as the “unequal treaties.”

These treaties were regarded as unequal because they stipulated that Japan must allow foreign citizens to visit and reside in Japan, because they prohibited the Japanese from imposing tariffs on imported goods, and because the treaties exempted foreigners from the jurisdiction of Japanese justice courts. When senior samurai became aware of these unequal treaties, radically nationalist/anti-foreign disturbances erupted throughout Japan.  In a short time, the entire nation was wracked with unrest.

If this mischief wasn’t enough, between 4-7 November 1854, the Nankaido earthquakes and tsunamis killed 80,000 Japanese.  This horrific incident was followed by the Tokai earthquake on 23 December with destruction from Edo (Tokyo) to Tokai — a distance of 210 miles, killing an additional 10,000 people.  These were natural occurrences, of course, but superstitious samurai leaders viewed them as a demonstration of the gods’ displeasure with the Shogunate.  Meanwhile, on 14 August 1858, Iesada died from Cholera.  His replacement was Tokugawa Iemochi — who at the time was twelve years old.  Meanwhile, rōjū Masayoshi continued to run the show.

Iemochi died in 1866; he was 22 years old.  His son, 3-year-old Tokugawa Iesato was next in line to become Shogun.  The nation was in crisis and needed adult leadership.  For this reason, the rōjū bypassed Iesato and chose Tokugawa Yoshinobu to serve as Shogun.  Yoshinobu was the fifteenth and last Tokugawa shogun (and the only Tokugawa that never entered Edo Castle).  With civil unrest unraveling the country, Yoshinobu too resigned his office and retired to the countryside.  At that point, the Japanese had emptied out their closet of potential leaders.  In that year, 1868, radical samurai convinced the 15-year old Emperor Meiji to end the Tokugawa shogunate and assume power in his own right.  It is referred to in history as the Meiji Restoration.

The royal family moved from the traditional home of the Emperor in Kyoto (Western Gate) to Edo and changed its name to Tokyo (Eastern Gate).  While the Emperor was restored to political power and assumed nominal power, the most powerful men in Japan were the Meiji oligarchs, senior samurai from Chōshū and Satsuma provinces.

The Meiji Oligarchs wanted Japan to become a modern nation-state — one technologically equal to the western nations that had caused so much civil unrest in Japan.  The oligarchs included such men as Okubo Toshimichi and Saigo Takamori (of the Satsuma Clan) and Kido Takayoshi, Ito Hirobumi, and Yamagata Aritomo from Chōshū.  Among the emperor’s first edicts was the abolishment of the old Edo class structure.  The great lords of Japan and all of their feudal domains became provinces with governors who answered to the emperor.  After this, the Japanese government began the process of modernization.  In less than ten years, the Meiji government confronted another internal upheaval, known as the Satsuma Rebellion, a revolt of disaffected samurai against the modernization efforts of the Emperor Meiji.  Change is never easy.

Chinese Diplomacy

On 12 March 1867, the American merchant ship Rover, while en route from Swatow, China to Newchwang, struck a submerged reef off the coast of Formosa, (also, Taiwan) near the modern-day city of Hengchun.  The ship’s captain, Joseph Hunt, his wife Mercy, and twelve surviving crewman made it to shore only to be massacred by Paiwan natives, the aboriginal people of Formosa.  The Paiwan were fiercely protective of their land and this violent behavior was a revenge killing for earlier depredations by foreign sailors.

When the United States Minister to China, Anson Burlingame, learned of the incident, he ordered his subordinate serving closest to Formosa to investigate.  Burlingame’s subordinate was Charles Guillaum Joseph Émile LeGendre (1830-1899), who served as Consul General in Fujian Province of the Qing Empire.  As Consul General, Legendre was responsible for matters involving United States interests in and around five treaty ports facilitating US trade with China.  LeGendre took an interest in and helped to suppress the illegal trade in coolies (peasant workers) and indentured laborers working on American-flagged ships.  LeGendre was known as a compassionate man.

LeGendre, who was born and raised in France, had the good fortune to marry a woman whose father was an influential New York lawyer.  Through this marriage, LeGendre migrated to the United States and took up residence in the City of New York.

Charles LeGendre 1864

At the outbreak of the American Civil War, 31-year old LeGendre helped recruit young men for service with the 51st New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment.  His recruiting success earned him a commission as a major in the US volunteers.  During the war, LeGendre fought with distinction in several campaigns, was twice wounded, and eventually retired from military service.  In recognition of his courage under fire, the US volunteer army discharged him as a brevet brigadier general.  LeGendre, despite his physical wounds, was an ambitious man.  In 1866, President Andrew Johnson appointed LeGendre to serve as Consul General in China.

In compliance with his instructions to investigate the Rover Incident, LeGendre traveled to Fukien and Chekiang for the purpose of petitioning the Chinese governors-general for their assistance in obtaining guarantees for the safety of American sailors shipwrecked off the coast of China.  The governor-general of Fujian had a better idea — rather than taking direct action himself, he granted LeGendre permission to travel to Formosa and plead his case directly to the island’s governor-general[3].  Action passed (to others) is action complete — Time Management 101.

LeGendre soon learned that the Paiwan natives were barbaric and hostile to all foreigners.  During his investigation, he also learned about the Chinese shuffle, which was how Chinese officials avoided responsibility for unseemly events transpiring within their areas of authority.  The Chinese governor of Formosa actually did not control much of the island — only the small western plain; the Paiwan natives controlled the entire southern region.

When LeGendre’s efforts on Formosa failed[4] the United States government decided to mount a military punitive expedition against the Paiwan natives.  Responsibility for conducting this expedition fell to Rear Admiral Henry Bell, US Navy.  A force of sailors and Marines were organized under Commander George E. Belknap, USN with Lieutenant Commander Alexander S.  MacKenzie serving as executive officer.  Captain James Forney, USMC commanded 31 Marines from USS Hartford, and 12 Marines from USS Wyoming.

Several problems hindered the Belknap Expedition from its beginning.  First, the force was too small for operations in such a large area.  Next, the men were not accustomed to the high humidity of Taiwan and heat exhaustion overwhelmed them as they hacked their way into the dense jungle.  Because the thick foliage easily concealed the island’s hostile defenders, Belknap’s men became sitting ducks for vicious attacks.  When the Paiwan natives opened fire for the first time, LCdr MacKenzie was one of several Americans instantly killed.  Commander Belknap ordered his force to withdraw, and the so-called punitive expedition ended.  Captain Forney’s journal eventually found its way back to HQ Marine Corps where it was later incorporated into what eventually became the Marine Corps Small Wars Manual[5].  This may have been the expedition’s only positive note.

Upon LeGendre’s return to South China, he persuaded the governor of Foochow to send a large military expedition to Formosa.  LeGendre recommended a force of 400-500 men, but the governor reasoned that he could achieve his goals with fewer men.  The Chinese expedition departed for Formosa in July 1867.  Admiral Bell denied LeGendre’s request for a gunboat to assist in the Chinese expedition, so LeGendre chartered SS Volunteer and made his way to Formosa, informing Burlingame that he intended to observe the action.  Upon arrival, however, LeGendre assumed command of the Chinese force.  How he accomplished this is unknown.  What made the Chinese expedition difficult was that the Chinese had to first construct a road into the interior.  Ultimately, LeGendre turned to British diplomat William A. Pickering[6] to help broker a treaty with the Paiwan natives for the protection of American and European shipwrecked sailors.

In early September 1871, a merchant ship from the Ryukyu Islands[7] (present-day Okinawa) was wrecked off the coast of Formosa.  Paiwan natives, as they had with the Rover, massacred the ship’s surviving 54 crewmen.  The treaty brokered by LeGendre and Pickering only applied to shipwrecked Americans and Europeans, not to other Asians.  In February 1872, LeGendre (believing that the Ryukyu Islands belonged to Japan — see note 7) returned to Formosa and attempted to have the earlier treaty extended to include shipwrecked Japanese sailors.  LeGendre’s mission failed once more when the Paiwan natives refused to extend the treaty.  LeGendre’s meddling upset the Chinese government, and this placed LeGendre at odds with his superior.  Minister Burlingame ordered LeGendre to return to the United States.  In December 1872, while en route to the United States, LeGendre stopped off at Yokohama, Japan (a treaty port in Tokyo Bay, south of Tokyo).

Toward Japanese Imperialism

While in Yokohama, LeGendre met with Charles DeLong, the United States Minister to Japan.  It may be remembered, by some, that DeLong was the diplomat who first announced to the Japanese government that the United States was pleased to recognize Japanese sovereignty over the Ryukyu Islands (Okinawa) – an interesting revelation for two reasons: first, because insofar as the Chinese were concerned, the Ryukyu Islands was a sovereign territory of China; second, because it provides some clarity about the ineptness of the US Diplomatic Corps — which unhappily continues to plague the US State Department.

Minister DeLong introduced Charles LeGendre to Japan’s foreign minister, Soejima Taneomi[8]There could not have been a more portentous meeting in the early days of the Meiji Era because it was this former Army brigadier turned diplomat who, having been hired by the Meiji government as an advisor to the foreign ministry, first gave the Japanese government the idea that it had a moral responsibility to expand its empire through colonization.  Japanese expansionism ultimately led to war with China (1894, 1931, 1937), with Russia (1904), Korea (1910), and with the United Kingdom and United States (1941).

LeGendre’s involvement in the Rover Affair and the issue of the shipwrecked Ryukyu ship interested Soejima.  As Soejima’s hired advisor, LeGendre provided a wealth of information about Formosa’s Paiwan natives, the geography of the island, the difficulty of two military expeditions, and likely, LeGendre’s own view about how Chinese officials reacted to both incidents.  Minister Soejima subsequently organized a diplomatic mission to China, which included LeGendre, which took place in 1873.  Soejima’s first achievement was that he was able to meet personally with the Qing Emperor, Emperor Tongzhi.  As it turned out, meeting with China’s Emperor was Soejima’s only success.

The Qing Emperor emphasized to Soejima that the 1871 incident was an internal matter, emphasizing that it was of no concern to the Japanese because Formosa was part of China’s Fujian Province.  Moreover, insofar as the Ryukyu sailors were concerned, the Ryukyu Kingdom was a vassal state of China.  Wisely ignoring China’s assertion that Formosa and the Ryukyu Island were Chinese territories, Minister Soejima argued that several of  the crewmen were Japanese from Okayama Province.  He suggested that it would be proper for China to pay a just compensation for the death of the Japanese sailors.  When the meeting ended, Tongzhi rejected Soejima’s request for compensation because, he said, the Paiwan natives were beyond the control of Chinese officials.

Tongzhi had said too much.  His claim that China exercised no control of the Paiwan natives opened the door for the Meiji government to take other actions.  Both LeGendre and a French legal advisor Gustave Émile Boissonade de Fontarabie[9] urged Japan to initiate a military response.  Once again, LeGendre proved useful to Soejima in formulating plans for a Japanese military punitive operation.  The Japanese hired two additional Americans as advisors to the Japanese foreign ministry: James Wasson[10] and Douglas Cassel[11].  US Minister John Bingham, who had replaced DeLong, objected to both Wasson and Cassel because he felt that their involvement with the Japanese government would violate American neutrality and place the United States in a difficult position with other Asian nations.

Between 1866-73, Japan was faced with several natural disasters and civil upheavals.  Emperor Meiji was hesitant to authorize a military expedition to Formosa.  Meiji also discarded Soejima’s suggestion for a Japanese invasion of Korea.  Soejima promptly resigned his office.

Owing to Japan’s internal difficulties, Meiji delayed the Formosa expedition until 1874.  Japan’s prime minister assigned the expedition to Saigō Tsugumichi.  His publicly announced mission was three-fold: (1) ascertain the facts surrounding the violence committed against Japan’s countrymen; (2) punish the wrong-doers, and (3) ensure that such violence would not reoccur.

The Prime Minister’s private instructions to Saigō were more specific.  After discovering the facts of the matter, Saigō must first consider employing peaceful means to lead “the natives toward civilization.”  He must try “to establish a profitable enterprise.”  If these measures fail, only then was Saigō authorized to use punishing force against them.  Note: it is one thing to translate the Japanese language into English, but quite another to establish clever nuance from those words.  Historians specializing in such matters suggest that Saigō’s instructions were very likely influenced by Charles LeGendre.

Within the historic context of the Taiwan affair, we discover (not for the first time) Japan’s interest in broader objectives: imperial expansionism and establishing a regional influence in East Asia.  The Meiji government’s expedition to Taiwan was a “re-start” of Japanese expansionism[12] — this time, however, adapted to America’s quest for manifest destiny (which the Japanese later called their Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (1931)).  Historians again claim that LeGendre’s fingerprints are all over Japan’s expansionistic long-term modernization plan.  The expedition proceeded despite objections by UK and US ministers.

The invasion began on 6 May, led by Douglas Cassel to select a beachhead. Four days later, Japanese troops went ashore.  On 15 May, Cassel petitioned the head of the Island’s sixteen southern tribes to hear Saigō’s proposals.  The Paiwan chieftain, named Issa, identified the Island’s Botan tribe as the trouble-makers and, since the Botan people were out of his control, granted his permission for the Japanese to punish them.

Whether Issa was playing fast and loose with the Japanese is unknown.  What is known is that a series of confrontations evolved with casualties on both sides — and so it went until July when an outbreak of malaria wrecked the Japanese expeditionary force.  Ultimately, the Japanese agreed to withdraw from Taiwan after the Chinese government agreed to pay Japan an indemnity amounting to around 18.7 tonnes of  silver.  In total, the Japanese lost 12 men killed in action, 30 men wounded, and 560 dead due to disease.  Both Wasson and Cassel came down with malaria, as well.  Cassel was returned to his home in Ohio where he died from the disease nine months later.

Some historians claim that Japan’s invasion was a failure; other say that given China’s indemnity, it was an unparalleled success.  The latter claim appears valid for several reasons.  First, when China attempted to subdue the Paiwan natives in 1875, the natives defeated the Chinese, and this sent a signal to the Japanese that China was unable to exert its control over areas claimed as part of their empire.  Second, Japan supplanted Chinese influence in the Ryukyu Islands.  Third, China acknowledged Japan’s claim of seeking only to “civilize” barbarian societies — for the greater good of all mankind, and the Japanese were emboldened to exert their influence throughout the Far East region.   

The Meiji government demonstrated its focused interest in learning about western thought, not only by hiring foreign advisors to guide government functionaries, but also by the fact that at one time, nearly every Meiji cabinet official went abroad to study the Americans, English, Dutch, and Germans.  Within two decades, one will discover that the Imperial Japanese Navy was modeled almost exclusively on the British Royal Navy, and the Imperial Japanese Army modeled on Imperial Germany.

From the time when Soejima hired LeGendre in 1872, the Japanese wasted no time employing westerners to help modernize Japan and expand its influence throughout the Far East.  Japanese officials exchanged volumes of correspondence relating to “western thought” and sharing their analyses of information collected by Japanese spies dispatched throughout the United States and Europe.  At no time did the Japanese take their eye off the prize: implementing their own form of manifest destiny.  Charles LeGendre was part of this correspondence group — and we know this because his letters remain available to researchers through primary and secondary sources.

LeGendre’s papers offer several insights into the long-term objectives of Meiji Japan.  The Japanese challenged China’s claim of sovereignty over Taiwan and Okinawa — which they did most effectively, particularly with China’s help.  China’s claims and diplomatic arguments were at best ambiguous and at all times beyond their ability to reinforce with military power.  Secondly, the Japanese sought to impress the western powers and establish their diplomatic bona fides among them, which they accomplished by hiring western advisors, paying them a fortune for their services, and flattering them with prestigious awards.  Japan had begun to negotiate treaties and relationships based on western logic — which the western power fully understood.

The issue of sovereignty over Taiwan and Okinawa demonstrate the differences in how China and Japan addressed the challenges of western imperialism.  The Japanese gave the impression of fully incorporating western influence but limited foreign presence in Japan; the Chinese persistently resisted the foreign devils who took what they wanted anyway.  Japan became an ally; China was always the antagonist — even though both countries relied to some extent on foreign employees/advisors to modernize their military forces.

The foreign advisors in both countries belonged to a small club; they all knew each other, shared information about their clients without qualm, and nearly all of them were in some way associated with treaty ports in both China and Japan.

We must therefore recognize the efforts of Charles LeGendre — at least to some degree — for Japan’s developing interests in Taiwan and Okinawa and the beginning of an ever-widening interest by the Japanese in all of East Asia[13].  Accordingly, or at least I so believe, the American brigadier-turned-diplomat Charles LeGendre was at least indirectly responsible for Japan’s aggressive behavior over the following fifty years.  He preached colonialism to the Japanese, and they accepted it and adapted it to their own purposes.  “Leading the natives to civilization” thereafter became a Japanese codeword for Imperial domination and it could not have been tendered at a better time in Japan’s long history.

Subsequently, the United States lost its corporate memory of Charles LeGendre — but what he accomplished while in the employ of the Japanese government had a lasting impact on US-Japanese relations through 1945.  By extension, we might also note that LeGendre was indirectly responsible for 8.4 million deaths in the Pacific Theater of Operations during World War II.

Conclusion

Charles Guillaum Joseph Émile LeGendre may have been a compassionate man.  His motivation to involve himself as an advisor to the Japanese Imperial government may have been well-intentioned.  The result, however, was disastrous for well-over 8 million people.  Compassion, without a healthy dose of reality, more often than not leads to great sorrow.  America’s diplomatic corps has never learned this worthwhile lesson.

Sources:

  1. Bender, A., and others.  Taiwan.  Lonely Planet Publishers, 2004.
  2. Fix, D. L. and John Shufelt.  Charles W. LeGendre: Notes of Travel in Formosa.  London: Cambridge Press, 2013.
  3. Tartling, N.  A Sudden Rampage: The Japanese Occupation of Southeast Asia, 1941-1945.  Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2001.

Endnotes:

[1] Historians think he may have suffered from cerebral palsy.

[2] The elder of the shogunate was ranked just below the Shogun in power and prestige.

[3] Chinese officials were not known for have a great deal of patience with foreign envoys.  In granting LeGendre permission to proceed to Formosa, it might have been that the governor-general of Fujian hoped the American would receive a similar fate.  In those days, the Formosans were as easy to get along with as Texas Comanches.

[4] As the governor-general of Fujian likely suspected it would.

[5] The Small Wars Manual provided information and guidance on tactics and strategies for engaging certain types of military operations.

[6] Pickering had served for ten years in Hong Kong as Chinese Maritime Customs Supervisor.  He spoke many Chinese dialects and was very useful in dealing with obstinate Chinese officials.

[7] The Ryukyu Kingdom was a tributary state of China.  The location of the islands made the kingdom an important location for maritime trade between East Asia and Southeast Asia.  What made the Ryukyu Island kingdom unusual was that both China and Japan considered the Ryukyu king a vassal to their empires.

[8] Soejima was a student of the English language and a scholar who focused on the United States Constitution and the New Testament.  During the Boshin War, he was a military leader who was committed to the overthrow of the Tokugawa Shogunate and restoration of Imperial rule in Japan.  Soejima was the lead negotiator in the mission to Beijing to protest the murder of 54 crewmen of a Ryukyuan merchant ship by Paiwan (Formosan) aborigines. 

[9] Fontarabie was responsible for drafting most of Japan’s legal codes during the Meiji Era.

[10] James Wasson was a Civil War veteran who later obtained an appointment to the USMA.  Graduating in 1871, and having established a close friendship with Frederick Grant, the President’s son, Wasson was appointed to serve as a secretary to the American Diplomatic Legation in Japan, 1871-72.  After serving in this capacity, he returned to the United States to resign his commission and then accepted the employment in Japan as a surveyor.  In 1874, Japan commissioned Wasson a colonel of engineers and in this capacity, he participated in Japan’s invasion of Taiwan.

[11] Douglas Cassel was a veteran naval officer who, while serving on active duty with the Asiatic Squadron, was granted a  leave of absence to serve as a  naval advisor to the Meiji government.  Cassel, as it turned out, was an abrasive man who found much fault with the Japanese and did not hesitate to express his misgivings over the Japanese inability to relinquish their samurai ways and adopted a more modern approach to naval warfare.

[12] In 1592, the Japanese samurai and daimyo Toyotomi Hideyoshi — regarded as the second great unifier of Japan, led an expedition to the Korean Peninsula with the intent of conquering the Korean people.  This expedition involved two separate wars.  The first begun in 1592 (the Imjin Disturbance), a truce in 1596, and in 1597 (the Chongyu War).  The contest ended in a stalemate and the Japanese forces were withdrawn in 1598.

[13] In his lengthy negotiations with Chinese authorities over the Rover Incident LeGendre urged the Chinese to assume responsibility for civilizing the Paiwan natives.  LeGendre believed that China’s failure to assume the undertaking would lay the groundwork for any other civilized country to civilize these barbarians.  I cannot say whether LeGendre was a cynic or simply idealistic, but it would appear that he believed that the Paiwan natives deserved someone to bring them into the light — and if the Chinese wouldn’t do it, then perhaps the Japanese should.


Lieutenant Colonel C. Jack Lewis, USMCR

When he was just a little guy, Jack Lewis became separated from his mother in a large department store.  Anyone who’s been lost in a department store at the age of five or six knows that it’s a terrifying experience.  But then, two young men came to his rescue.  They were Marine Corps recruiters, wearing the dress blue uniform that makes Marines stand out among all other servicemen.  They returned him to his mom.  Jack Lewis never forgot those Marines.

So, in 1942, when it came time for Americans to stand up against fascism, C. Jack Lewis made his way to the local recruiting office and joined the Marines.  Now, for the uninitiated, there are only two kinds of Marines: live Marines and dead Marines.  You see, becoming a United States Marine is a lifetime endeavor.  My good friend Colonel Jim Bathurst titled his autobiography on this very concept: as long as Marines keep faith with one another, and with the code of honor to which we all subscribe, then, We’ll All Die As Marines.

I met Lieutenant Colonel Jack Lewis while assigned as the Adjutant, Marine Aircraft Group 46 in 1979-81.  Lewis was a reserve officer, then serving as the Reserve Liaison Officer for Southern California.  I suspect that there was no better-qualified individual to serve in that capacity than Colonel Lewis.  He served in World War II, the Korean War, and in Vietnam.  In each instance, after serving a tour of combat duty, Jack left the active-duty force and went back into the Marine reserve.  He did this, he told me because there was too much “chicken shit” in the active force … and if there was one thing Lewis could not abide, it was “oppressive regulations, careerist officers, and people who called themselves Marines but wouldn’t have made a pimple of a dead Marine’s ass.”

Like many young men of his day, the teenaged Jack Lewis became what he described as an “amateur juvenile delinquent.”  He was always in trouble.  The problem wasn’t so much Jack’s behavior as it was that he wanted more out of life than his circumstances would allow.  By the late 1930s, Jack was looking for something special in his life.  Something that would offer him a challenge, hold him accountable, and something that he could love with unbridled passion.  In this regard, the Second World War probably came along at the right time for Jack Lewis.  Jack Lewis joined the Marines out of a sense of patriotism, but in doing so, he found that “special something” he was looking for.  The Marines squared his ass away, gave him a reason to get up in the morning, inculcated him with the values so dear to anyone who has ever (honorably) worn the uniform of a United States Marine.  The U. S. Marine Corps became the organization that set him on the pathway of success for the balance of his life.

Jack was born in Iowa on 19 November 1924 but at the age of two, his family moved to Florida.  As a lad, he was a voracious reader and a writer and at age 14, he sold his first novel … The Cherokee Kid’s Last Stand.  The novel earned him five dollars.  Now, while five dollars doesn’t sound like a lot of money, one must recall that in those days a field hand earned a dollar a day for backbreaking work.  No, it wasn’t much, but he was fourteen years of age, and it was a start in a writing career that lasted the balance of his 84-years.

Following World War II, Lewis returned to Iowa, where in 1949 he graduated from the state university with a degree in journalism.  He was subsequently commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Marine Corps Reserve.  A short time later he was assigned to help produce a Marine Corps training film, and then owing to his service in World War II, he became a technical advisor to the John Wayne film, Sands of Iwo Jima.  Of this later effort, Lewis said that he basically advised members of the cast on how to lace up their leggings.  He no doubt contributed far more than that.

When the Korean War erupted in June 1950, Lewis returned to active duty for six years.  He served as a combat correspondent and photographer.  Now this may not seem like much in terms of what Hollywood tells us about combat (which is mostly wrong), but every Marine — no matter what his occupational specialty, no matter what his rank — is first and foremost a rifleman.  Initially, Jack Lewis carried an M-1 carbine as his T/O weapon.  It was the first time he’d carried that particular firearm, considerably smaller than the M-1 Garand.  In one fire fight, Jack shot a communist Chinese soldier eight times, hitting him six times, without doing any noticeable damage to this enemy.  Another Marine standing nearby, who was armed with a Thompson submarine gun, stepped up and blew the communist into the afterlife.  Allowing that no matter where you hit a man with a .45 caliber weapon he’s going down, Lewis thereafter armed himself with a Thompson and would not part with it.  During a second combat tour of duty in Korea, Lewis earned a Bronze Star for his work filming Marine Corps aircraft engaging the enemy from an exposed position.

During the Korean War, Jack Lewis submitted over two dozen magazine articles to Marine Corps headquarters for publication in the Leatherneck Magazine.  HQMC returned the articles telling Lewis that they all sounded too much like Marine Corps propaganda.  Miffed, Lewis then sent the articles to his civilian literary agent who had them published, earning Lewis $200.00 each.  Lewis sent copies of the published articles to the individual at HQMC who had rejected them.  Knowing Jack, I can easily imagine that he sent these copies with a caustic note, but I don’t know that for a fact.

Following the Korean War, Jack commanded a rifle company in the 4th Marines at Camp Pendleton, California.  He was subsequently transferred to the Naval Air Station, Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii where he served as a public information officer.  During this tour of duty, Lewis was assigned as a technical advisor on John Ford’s film titled Mister Roberts.  When no one could locate a stunt performer to drive a motorcycle off a pier, Lewis did the job himself.  Lewis later appeared in a minor role in Admiral Ford’s film, Sergeant Rutledge.

Marines, by their nature, are exceptional.  Jack’s stellar performance prompted his commanding officer to encourage Jack to apply for a regular (as opposed to reserve) commission.  Jack would have none of this, however.  He wanted to pursue a writing career and upon expiration of his active duty obligation, Jack Lewis returned to inactive service in the reserves.

In addition to writing screenplays for films, Lewis found work as a magazine editor in 1956; after three years of learning how magazines are done, he teamed up with Dean Grennell[1] to publish Gun World magazine in 1959.  He continued to author the monthly knife column until his death in 2009.  Lewis was highly critical of the capabilities of various weapons marketed to military and law enforcement agencies.  In fact, he was so critical that the firearms manufacturing companies refused to advertise in his magazine.  Lewis once told the Commandant of the Marine Corps that the M16’s only consistent effect was that it changed the world’s perception of the American rifleman.  Americans, he said, used to be sharpshooters, but after the M16, they were little more than “sprayers.”

Jack Lewis developed a story that he originally titled Year of the Tiger.  When Marshall Thompson[2] selected Lewis’ work for a 1963 film, he hired Lewis to write the screenplay and the title was changed to A Yank in Viet-Nam, which was filmed on location in South Vietnam in 1963, often in the midst of, or within range, of actual fire fights.

In 1966, Lewis published a novel titled Tell it to the Marines.  It is the story of a Marine officer who, during the Korean War, is placed in command of a band of misfits in a motion picture unit.  In the preface of this book, Jack penned, “Any similarity to persons, places, or incidents is highly plausible; only the names have been changed to avoid court-martial.”  The humor in this book may be lost among those who never earned the Marine Corps emblem, and among those born in the 21st Century, life in the Marine Corps during the Korean war may not resonate.  I have a copy of this book on my shelf.

He was also the author of White Horse, Black Hat: A Quarter Century on Hollywood’s Poverty Row; Renegade Canyon; Mohave; Massacre Mountain; and The Coffin Racers.

In 1969, Lewis returned to active duty to serve a full-length tour in Vietnam with the III Marine Amphibious Corps.  During this tour, Lewis earned his second and third air medal, signifying 50 air missions exposed to enemy fire.  Lewis retired from the Marine Corps in 1984, one day prior to his 60th birthday.

Colonel Jack Lewis was a man of many talents and many careers.  He did not suffer fools gladly; he was a maverick, not at all concerned about becoming someone else’s vision of a Marine —but his own vision was good enough for him and almost everyone who knew him.  He may have been a bit rough around the edges, and blunt, but he was a decent man whose professionalism was well-balanced with his friendliness.  He loved his Corps, and he loved Marines until his last breath.  In the company he managed for 37 years, he preferred hiring retired and former Marines. When Jack Lewis retired, he moved to Hilo, Hawaii, where he continued to write.  Colonel C. Jack Lewis, United States Marine Corps Reserve, passed away at his home on 24 May 2009.

Endnotes:

[1] Dean Grennell (1923-2004) served as a firearms instructor in the Army Air Corps during World War II and is remembered as an American firearms expert, writer, editor, managing editor of Gun World magazine, and the editor of the science fiction “fanzine” Grue. 

[2] Marshall Thompson (1925-1992) (a classmate of Norma Jean Baker) was an actor, director, and producer of films beginning in the 1940s of science fiction genre.  One film titled The Terror from Beyond Space in 1958 became the inspiration for Ridley Scott’s Alien films.  A second Viet Nam era film was titled To the Shores of Hell (1965).


The Road to War

U. S. Marine Corps Defense Battalions

Some Background

The Marine Corps mission, now a long tradition, is to locate, close with, and destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver, or to repel the enemy’s assault by fire and close combat.  No matter what occupational specialty assigned, every Marine is a trained rifleman.  Up-close and personal is how Marines fight.  As an organization, the Corps has two essential purposes: (1) making Marines, and (2) winning battles.

People who seek to join the Marine Corps are already psychologically unique because every potential recruit knows what the Marine Corps will expect from them from the very beginning of their enlistment process.  Knowing this, however, is insufficient.  Every enlisted recruit and every officer candidate must measure up to the Corps’ uncompromising high standards.  They must demonstrate that they have what it takes to serve as a US Marine.  They do this either at recruit training depots or at the officer candidate school — which is where they earn the title, MARINE.

Marines are naval infantry.  Between 1775-1900, Marines primarily served in ship’s detachments, navy yards, and provisional forces for expeditionary service ashore.  Between 1900-1940, Marines participated in irregular warfare and counter-insurgency operations in support of American foreign policy.  Conventionally, Marines served with enviable distinction in the Spanish-American War, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and in the Middle Eastern Wars.

Organizationally, the Marine Corps is composed of its Headquarters element (Headquarters Marine Corps) (HQMC), its supporting establishments (Marine Corps Bases and Air Stations), and the Operating Forces.  The Operating forces (presently) consist of three infantry divisions, three air wings, three logistical commands, and their reserve counterparts.  The Marine Corps organizes its deployed forces as Marine Air-Ground Task Forces (MAGTFs), which range from battalion landing teams to reinforced infantry divisions.  While war strategies are matters for senior (flag rank) officers, battlefield tactics frequently fall within the purview of Marine noncommissioned officers (NCOs). 

The structure of the Marine Corps (1775-present) has been an evolutionary process.   At its beginning, Congress authorized the recruitment of two Marines battalions and directed that their officers organize them for service aboard ships of war as riflemen.  Historically, the size of the Marine Corps has expanded and contracted to meet the nation’s demands in times of peace and war.  In the Revolutionary War period, for example, the size of shipboard detachments depended on the ship’s size to which assigned. The size of the Marine Corps depended on the missions assigned to it by Congress.  Following the Revolutionary War, the new U.S. Congress determined that it could no longer afford to maintain a naval force, so both the Navy and Marine Corps disbanded between 1783-1798.  The Navy and Marine Corps have continuously served the American people since 1798; their size in ships and manpower ceilings is always a matter for the Congress to decide.

Sea Change

1898

Victory over Spain in 1898 was a pivotal event because it propelled a somewhat backwater United States onto the world stage and had a sudden and significant influence on the growth of the US Navy and Marine Corps.  With victory over Spain came vast territorial acquisitions that included the Philippine Islands, Guam, Samoa, Cuba, and Puerto Rico.  These were in addition to already existing US interests in Central America (Nicaragua and the Isthmus of Panama).  Territorial acquisition meant that the United States would have to defend these faraway places, and the only service that could do that was the US Navy — challenges never imagined before 1898.

Realizing that the post-Civil War Navy was initially out of its depth in this new world order, the Secretary of the Navy (SECNAV) established the General Board of the Navy in 1900.  The Board’s membership included the Navy’s most senior officers, men who were at the end of their careers upon whom he could rely on offering deliberate and objective analyses of world events and offering recommendations on a wide range of issues — from ship design to naval strategy and contingency planning and training.  The General Board undertook the development of war plans for responding to anticipated threats against the US East Coast, the Antilles, and, eventually, the Panama Canal.

Initially, the General Board of the Navy viewed Great Britain as a “most likely” threat to American interests and sovereignty.[1]  With greater allied cooperation with the United Kingdom, however, the General Board turned its attention toward Imperial Germany,[2] especially after Spain sold its Central Pacific territories to Imperial Germany and German military construction projects  in the Pacific and coastal China.  Japan’s victory over Imperial Russia in 1905 forced the US to consider conflict with the Japanese, as well.[3]

In late 1901, the Navy General Board demanded that (then) Major General Commandant Charles Heywood develop a four-company infantry battalion for expeditionary and advanced base defense training.  The Navy Board envisioned a Marine battalion that could rapidly deploy (ship to shore) in defense of American territories as part of the Asiatic Fleet and do so without awaiting the arrival of US Army units from the United States.  The writings of Captain Dion Williams,  (then assigned to the Office of Naval Intelligence), emphasized the importance of the Navy’s ability to refuel its ships from Pacific coaling stations.  Since it was incumbent upon the Navy to defend those advanced bases, the Navy turned to the Marine Corps for this purpose.

One achieves an understanding of warfare by reading history and then thinking about an event’s causes, its actors, what they did, why they did it, the mistakes they made, and the consequences of conflict.  Learning how to prepare for war is a bit more complicated — often involving many years of trial and error.  In 1907, a battalion under Major Eli K. Cole[4] participated in a training exercise in Subic Bay, the Philippine Islands.  It took his Marines ten weeks to set emplace 44 heavy shore battery guns.  The lesson the Marine Corps learned from this exercise pointed to the wisdom of pre-staging men and material as “rapid response” elements of the naval expeditionary forces.  Cole’s exercise prompted the Navy Board to recommend establishment of permanent advanced bases within the Navy’s defensive sphere.

In 1913, Major General Commandant William P. Biddle ordered a Marine Corps Advanced Base Force.  He named it the 1st Advanced Force Brigade.[5]  Biddle further re-designated the Brigade’s two regiments as the Fixed Defense Regiment (under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Charles G. Long)[6] and the Mobile Defense Regiment (under Colonel George Barnett).[7]

World events temporarily interfered with the Corps’ effort to improve the Advanced Base Force concept.  In 1914, the President dispatched a Marine expeditionary force to Vera Cruz, Mexico.  The Marines used this event to test and validate previously developed theories;[8] these, in turn, providing essential lessons for ongoing developments in Marine Corps force structure.

SgtMaj Dan Daly USMC

During World War I, the 4th Marine Brigade operated as one of two brigades within the US Second Infantry Division.  The 4th Marine Brigade consisted of the 5th Marine Regiment, 6th Marine Regiment, and the 6th Machine-gun Battalion.  A fully deployed combat brigade was a significant increase in overall Marine Corps strength, but the American Expeditionary Force in Europe was not the only iron in the fire.  HQMC formed an additional expeditionary brigade for service in the Caribbean and Central America during the so-called banana wars.  In 1919-1920, post war reductions in funding forced the Marine Corps to disband several infantry regiments/separate battalions.

In 1921, Major General Commandant John A. Lejeune continued the work undertaken in previous decades — work that actually continues today.  Each achievement, methodological or technological, becomes the foundation upon which new ideas emerge — and so it goes.   In 1933, creating and perfecting the Advanced Base Force led to the creation of the Fleet Marine Forces (Atlantic and Pacific) — which became an integral part of the United States Atlantic and Pacific Fleets.

The primary mission of the Fleet Marine Force (FMF) was the seizure and temporary defense of advanced bases, in concert with US fleet operations.  In the 1920s and 1930s, the United States participated in a series of naval conferences designed to reduce the likelihood of war by limiting armaments (i.e., the size of national navies).  It was, at best, a romantic assumption.  The US Congress began thinking defensively, prompting a significant reduction in the size of the military services.  Defense is not how the Marine Corps wins battles; senior Marine officers remained focused on offensive operations and defensive thinking had no appreciable impact on the readiness planning of the Fleet Marine Force.

 The vast range of US territories and the requirement to defend them continued as a vital interest to the Navy and as a primary responsibility of the Marine Corps.  A formal review of responsibilities assigned to the Army and Navy, designed to avoid duplication of effort, determined that the Army should confine itself to continental land operations. The Navy should focus its attention on the security of overseas territories and possessions.

By 1937, the Navy began to consider creating Marine Corps security detachments, particularly at vulnerable locations in the Pacific, in conjunction with Plan Orange.  Initially, the Navy Board envisioned security detachments as battalion-sized organizations.  In 1938, the Navy Board recommended the placement of defense battalions at Midway, Wake, and Johnston Islands —in sufficient strength and size to repel minor naval raids.

Defense battalions were coastal artillery units armed with 5-inch guns (6), anti-aircraft guns (12), machine guns (48 .30 caliber) (48 .50 caliber), searchlights (6), and sound locators (6).  The Battalion’s usual complement involved 28 officers and 482 enlisted men, but a battalion’s size depended on the specific size of the area the battalion was charged to defend.  Once ashore, owing to the size of naval guns, the Battalion would become “immobile.”  In effect, once defense battalions assumed their positions, there would be no retreat.[9]

Initially, the Marine Corps envisioned four defense battalions; their importance (in relation to the Marine Corps as a whole) was significant.  Of the Corps’ total strength (27,000 officers and enlisted men), 9,000 Marines would serve as part of the Fleet Marine Force, and 2,844 of those would serve in defense battalions.

Defense battalions began to form in late 1939.  By 7 December 1941, there were seven active battalions: the 1st, 2nd, 6th, and 7th formed at Marine Corps Base, San Diego, California; the 3rd, 4th, and 5th formed at Parris Island, South Carolina.  The 5th Defense Battalion was the first such battalion to deploy to a potentially hostile shore.

Under the command of Colonel Lloyd L. Leech, the 5th Defense Battalion deployed to Iceland in June 1941 as part of the 1st Marine Brigade (Provisional).  In addition to the 5th Defense Battalion, the Brigade included the 6th Marines, 2nd Battalion, 10th Marines, and various other supporting units to reinforce British forces charged with blocking any German attempt to seize Iceland.  To facilitate training and instruction for the American Marines, the brigade commander assented to the 5th Defense Battalion’s incorporation into the British air defense system.

Over time, it became increasingly unlikely that Germany would seize Iceland.  However, while the Pacific command urgently needed the 1st Brigade, its eventual reassignment was contingent upon the arrival in Iceland US Army units to replace the Marines.  Before Pearl Harbor, statutory provisions precluded the assignment of non-volunteer troops to overseas locations.  Army conscripts could not serve in Iceland until a state of war existed between the United States and its adversaries.  The Brigade was finally relieved by Army units in March 1942.

Of the remaining defense battalions, all but one (2nd) deployed to the Pacific before Pearl Harbor.  The 2nd Defense Battalion, under Lieutenant Colonel Raymond E. Knapp, joined the 2nd Marine Brigade in Samoa in January 1942.  Already serving in Samoa was the 7th Defense Battalion, under Lieutenant Colonel Lester A. Dessez.[10]  The 7th Defense Battalion was the first FMF unit to operate in the South Pacific theater of operations.

The 3rd Defense Battalion formed in late 1939.  After initial training, the Battalion embarked for Pearl Harbor in April 1940.  In September, the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Pacific ordered elements of the Battalion to Midway Island.  The entire Battalion reformed at Midway in February 1941.  In September 1941, the 6th Defense Battalion replaced the 3rd Battalion at Midway, which then returned to Hawaii and participated in defense of Pearl Harbor. Also, in Hawaii on 7 December 1941, was the 1st Defense Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Bert A. Bone, and the 4th Defense Battalion, under Colonel Harold S. Fassett. 

The preceding may seem like an orderly process, but it was far from that.  Moving large numbers of Marines and their heavy (and expensive) equipment is never easy, rarely tidy, and always compounded by higher headquarters.  For instance, in 1939, the 1st Defense Battalion formed by renaming the 2nd Battalion, 15th Marines, and then reorganizing it, re-equipping it, and re-positioning it to serve in its new role.  In February 1941, the 1st Defense Battalion arrived at Pearl Harbor from San Diego.  No sooner had the Battalion arrived when higher authority split it apart into subunits and redistributed them throughout the Central Pacific.  FMF Pacific (also, FMFPac) dispatched Detachment A, 1st Defense Battalion to Palmyra Island (arriving 10 March).  A month later, HQMC renamed the unit “Marine Detachment, 1st Marine Defense Battalion, Palmyra Island.” Additional subunits became Marine Detachments at Johnston (mid-July) and Wake (late-July).  Thus, on 7 December 1941, the 1st Defense Battalion had subunits on three atolls with their headquarters element remaining at Pearl Harbor.

By early December, Marine defense battalions defended Midway, Johnston, Palmyra, Samoa, and Wake.  The global war plan, then in effect, renamed “Rainbow Five,” called for the development of air bases at all these sites.  After 7 December, the United States had to concede Guam (and its small naval facility) to the Japanese owing to its position in the center of the Japanese-held Marianas Island group.  The Navy’s intention behind creating these small forward bases was two-fold.  Samoa would help protect communication routes in the Southwest Pacific; Midway, Johnston, Palmyra, and Wake were offered for the protection of Oahu installations.  None of the forward bases provided much protection, however.

At Pearl Harbor

Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor started at 0755 on 7 December 1941.  The assault lasted two hours.  The defense battalions offered limited (and generally ineffective) opposition to Japanese forces.  This generally poor performance was not the fault of the defense battalions, however.  Japan’s attack was a surprise event well-timed for Sunday morning.  Accordingly, all US responses were haphazard. 

Before the Japanese attack, the United States was already preparing for hostilities — albeit with only limited intelligence information.  Hawaii-based commanders heard nothing from Washington beyond cautionary advice.  Reacting with caution, senior commanders ordered all munitions secured at widely dispersed locations.  Motor vehicles were carefully stored in are motor pools, berthed ships and parked aircraft were lined up neatly for ease of monitoring security — in case Japanese agents attempted to sabotage American military equipment.  When the Japanese attacked, air defense positions had no ammunition with which to shoot down enemy planes.  Within a few moments of the attack, air and ground commanders ordered munitions, but there  were no vehicles available to transport it.  By the time ammunition did arrive, the Japanese attack was over.

Within six minutes of the beginning of the Japanese attack, Marines from the defense battalion had machine guns set up and engaged the enemy.  These were the only weapons used in the defense of Pearl Harbor.  It was a bit too little. 

Within mere hours after Japan’s attack, Navy and Marine commanders took steps to reinforce outlying island garrisons, rushing substantial numbers of Marines to Midway, Johnston, and Palmyra.  These Marines and their equipment came from the 1st, 3rd, and 4th Defense Battalions. Midway’s assets included 17 Scout/Bombers, ferried to the island commander via the aircraft carrier USS Lexington.  Once the ship returned to Pearl Harbor, additional flights were direct over-ocean movements.  The distance from Pearl Harbor to Midway was 1,137 miles.

Guam

The situation on Guam was bleak.  Lieutenant Colonel William K. McNulty’s 122 Marines (and 15 additional Marines serving on detached duty with the Guamanian Police Force) were overwhelmed by Japanese forces.

Johnston Island

Johnston Island, a spec of sand in the middle of the ocean, was too small and too close to the Hawaiian Islands to risk a land assault, but it was a tempting target.  Major Francis B. Loomis, serving as the 1st Defense Battalion executive officer, was present at Johnston Island when the Japanese made their move against Pearl Harbor.  As the senior officer present, Loomis assumed overall command of American military assets.

The first contact the Johnson Island Marines had with the Japanese occurred on 12 December when a submarine surfaced  8,000 yards off Sand Island and began firing green star clusters, which exploded high overhead.  Marines returned fire with a 5-inch gun, and the submarine withdrew.  Three days later, two Japanese ships opened fire and damaged several buildings and an oil storage facility.  Again, the Marines answered with a 5-inch gun, and the enemy ships withdrew before suffering any damage.  On the nights of 18, 21, and 22 December, enemy submarines returned to deliver harassing fire.  By the end of the month, reinforcements arrived from Hawaii, adding another 5-inch battery, another 3-inch battery, and 16 more machine guns —but the Marines heard no more from the Japanese for the duration of the war.

Palmyra Island

Palmyra Island experienced a single Japanese attack on 24 December.  A Japanese submarine surfaced 3,000 yards offshore and fired its deck guns at a dredge in the lagoon.  The 5-inch battery drove the submarine away.  Lieutenant Colonel Bone, commanding the 1st Defense Battalion, arrived with reinforcements at the end of December.  The Palmyra garrison became 1st Defensive Battalion in March.  Spreading Marines all over the Central Pacific had the effect of diminishing unit cohesiveness within the defense battalions.  To solve this problem, local commands absorbed the various “detachments” into their organizations.

Wake Island

By mid-December world attention was focused on events unfolding at Wake Island.  The unfolding battle electrified everyone.  On 7 December 1941, the Wake Island detachment totaled barely 400 officers and men, including 9 officers and 200 enlisted men who had only joined the detachment in the previous month.  The detachment commander was Major James P. S. Devereux.  The Island’s air support squadron included 12 F4F-3 Wildcats of Major Paul A. Putnam’s VMF-211 detachment, which arrived on 4 December.[11]  Putnam reported to Devereux, who reported to the Island Commander, Commander Winfield S. Cunningham, USN.

There were no optimists among the Marines of Wake Island.  Devereux’s detachment was understrength; one battery of 3-inch guns was completely unmanned.  Two other batteries could field only three of four guns (each), and Echo Battery had no height-finding equipment.  Ground and anti-air crew-served weapons were only half manned.  The detachment had no radar and no sound-locator equipment.  By the time Wake Marines learned of the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor, VMF-211’s dawn patrol was already aloft.  Putnam dispersed his remaining aircraft, and the detachment’s Marines manned their posts.

Shortly before noon on 8 December (Wake Island was in a different date-time-zone from Hawaii), 36 Japanese bombers attacked Wake Island, their bomb load mostly hitting the airstrip where seven of the eight parked Wildcats were destroyed, exploding aviation gas storage tanks, and killing 23 of the 55 enlisted aviation ground crewmen.  The bombers returned each day for the next six days, always at the same time of day.  Each day, the Japanese inflicted more damage and took more lives.  At 0300 on 11 December, a Japanese assault force appeared offshore.  Warships moved in after dawn to begin raking fire prelude to troop landings.  By 0615, the Marines had severely damaged the cruiser Yubari and sunk the destroyer Havate.  Additionally, Marines damaged a light cruiser, two destroyers, and a troop transport.  The Japanese withdrew to Kwajalein Island.

In the following week, Marines lost an additional three aircraft to Japanese bombers, half their trucks, and engineering equipment, most of their diesel fuel and dynamite, and the motor pool, warehouse, machine shop, and the blacksmith shop was wholly destroyed.  The Japanese destroyed the last two Wildcats on 22 December during aerial combat.  By this time, the Marines at Wake Island were running a pool on their expected shelf-life.

At dawn on 23 December, another Japanese assault force appeared offshore.  One-thousand Imperial Japanese Army and 500 Imperial Japanese Navy prepared to land on Wake Island.  Marines engaged the first wave of Japanese at 0245, but none of the 5-inch guns were able to take destroyers/transports under fire.  The 3-inch guns inflicted some damage, but not enough to hinder the landing.  Lacking any infantry support, overwhelming Japanese forces pushed the Marines back to secondary defensive positions.  Gun crews, in defending themselves, had to forsake the big guns.  By 0500, the Marines realized that the dance was about over.  At dawn, enemy carrier-based fighters and bombers arrived overhead.  Devereux advised Cunningham that he could no longer maintain organized resistance.  With Cunningham’s concurrence, Devereux surrendered his force to the Japanese landing force commander.

The story of Wilkes Island unfolded differently, however.  At Wilkes, the battle raged so fiercely that at daybreak, Captain Wesley Mc. Platt[12] not only destroyed the Japanese landing party after the initial Japanese assault, but he also reorganized his men and ordered a ruthless counterattack, killing every Japanese soldier he could find, one after another.  Captain Platt was out of contact with Devereux and did not know of the surrender until around 1330 when Platt saw Devereux approaching a Japanese officer.  Platt was not a happy camper, but he obeyed Major Devereux’s order to relinquish his arms to the Japanese.

Midway

Admiral Yamamoto’s plan for seizing Midway Island was typically complex.[13]  He also based his assumptions on faulty intelligence.  He believed that only two aircraft carriers were available to the Pacific Fleet after the Battle of the Coral Sea in May 1942.  After the repair of USS Yorktown, the Navy had three carriers: Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown.  He also misread the morale of  the US Armed Forces and the general American population.  Admiral Yamamoto was a crafty fellow, but he did not know that the Americans had broken the naval code.  The key for the Americans was learning that the Japanese designation of Midway Island was JN-25.

Lieutenant Colonel Harold D. Shannon ordered his 6th Defense Battalion to “general quarters” as soon as he learned of the Japanese attack at Wake Island.  It was a sensibly prudent order, but its effect was that it kept his Marines on edge for an extended period.  No action developed that day, but shortly after dark, the Japanese destroyers Akebono and Ushio arrived offshore.  Their mission was to harass the Island’s defenders and determine the placement of Marine shore batteries.  Two Japanese rounds hit the Island’s power plant and disrupted the communications center.[14]  As the two ships set up for their second run into the beach, Shannon ordered his Marines to engage enemy targets at will.  Battery A’s 5-inch guns remained silent due to the break down in communications, but Battery B and Battery D opened up with their 5-inch naval artillery and 3-inch anti-aircraft guns.  The .50 caliber machine-guns fired once the destroyers were within range.  The Japanese ships withdrew shortly afterward.

Reinforcements and resupply soon arrived from Hawaii.  Among the heavy weapons were 7-inch guns removed from World War I ships that had been in storage for many years.  Midway Island was well-armed and adequately manned to repel an enemy assault; the American defenders responded to several Japanese probing raids early in 1942.  Aviation assets at Midway included both Navy and Marine Corps combat aircraft.  The Navy had four PBY squadrons (31 Patrol planes), and six Grumman TBF Avengers from VT-8.  Marine Corps aircraft included Scout/Bomber squadron VMSB-231 (17 SB2U-3 Vindicators), and the remainder of VMF-221 (arriving at Midway from USS Saratoga with 14 F2A-3 Brewster Buffaloes).  Following the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Pacific Fleet quickly replaced lost aircrews with additional Navy and Marine Corps air squadrons.

In May 1942, FMFPac reinforced the 6th Defense Battalion with three additional 3-inch batteries, a 37-mm anti-aircraft battery, a 20-mm anti-aircraft battery, and two rifle companies from the 2nd Raider Battalion with five light tanks in direct support.  FMFPac ordered all Marine aircraft at Midway consolidated under Marine Aircraft Group (MAG)-22.  The MAG received 16 SMD-2 Dauntless Diver Bombers and seven Grumman Wildcat fighters.

As the Battle of Midway Island began on 4 June 1942, it became apparent that the defense of the atoll was of secondary importance to the air engagements at sea, but Midway was the bait that had drawn Yamamoto’s task forces within range of US carrier aircraft.  The Marines ashore were, however, ready for any eventuality.  PBYs from Midway first spotted Japanese naval units at 0900 on 3 June.  Army B-17s launched that afternoon to bomb the Japanese fleet, but none of the bombs hit their targets.  At 0545 on 4 June, Navy PBYs fixed an approaching air assault position consisting of over 100 Japanese torpedo, dive bombers, and escort fighters (numbers estimated).  US aircraft were in the air within ten minutes to intercept them.  Japanese Zeros easily destroyed Marine buffaloes, but not without losing several bombers and fighters of their own.  The survivors arrived over Midway at around 0630.  The Japanese attacked lasted thirty minutes.  Marine anti-air defenses claimed ten kills and seemed anti-climactic, but Japan’s air assault was what the Navy fleet commander wanted.  As these planes returned to their carriers, US aircraft followed them.

The Battle of Midway’s significance was that it signaled the end of the United States’ defensive war and the beginning of America’s offensive.  In these early days of a long war, the Defense Battalions’ Marines had played their role and contributed to the war effort.  With the arrival of additional Marines, most of whom had enlisted after the attack on Pearl Harbor, many found their way into the Defense Battalions.  By the end of 1942, the Marine Corps had 14 defense battalions.  Two years later, there were twenty such battalions.

Guadalcanal and beyond

The assault of Guadalcanal was the first American land offensive in the Pacific war.  The 3rd Defense Battalion provided support to the 1st Marine Division’s landing.  The landing force commander split the Battalion to support simultaneous operations at Guadalcanal and Tulagi.  The Battalion’s machine-gun sections and 90-mm anti-aircraft guns[15] went ashore in the first assault waves.  Similarly, the 9th Defense Battalion supported the assault on the Munda Peninsula in July 1943.  By this time, defense battalions employed 155-mm and 40-mm guns.  On Vella Lavella, the 4th Defense Battalion’s 90-mm gun was the Japanese pilot’s worst nightmare.  Both the 9th and 14th Defense Battalion went ashore with the landing forces at Guam in 1944.  When Japanese aircraft were no longer capable of threatening Marine occupied terrain, senior officers decided that the battalions had served their purpose.  HQMC disbanded most defense battalions after the war —but one (sort of) remains today.  One Marine responsibility at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, is to defend the naval base.  This mission is similar to that of the World War II-era defense battalion.

Sources:

  1. Cole, E. K.  Advanced Base Force Training.  Philadelphia: 1915.
  2. Davis, H. C.  Advanced Place Training.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1911.
  3. Jackson, R. H.  History of the Advanced Base.  Records of the General Board of the Navy, 1913.
  4. Jackson, R. H.  The Naval Advanced Base. Records of the General Board of the Navy, 1915.
  5. McBride, W. M.  Technological Change and the United States Navy, 1865-1945.  Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001.
  6. Millett, A. R.  Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps.  New York: The Free Press, 1991.
  7. Simmons, E. H.  The United States Marines: A History.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1974.

Endnotes:

[1] Incorporated as War Plan Red.

[2] Incorporated as War Plan Black.

[3] Incorporated as War Plan Orange.

[4] Eli Kelley Cole (1867-1929) graduated from the US Naval Academy in 1888, served as a naval officer for two years, and transferred to the US Marine Corps in 1890.  In 1915, Cole, Williams, Earl H. Ellis, John H. Russell, and Robert H. Dunlap were the Marine Corps’ deepest thinkers.  While commanding the 1st Provisional Brigade in Haiti, he received the Navy Cross Medal.  He later commanded the US Army’s 41st Infantry Division during World War I, and served as the first Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps.  He passed away while still serving on active duty.

[5] The forebear of the 1st Marine Division.

[6] Designated 2nd Regiment, Advance Base Brigade on 18 February 1914 (today, 1st Marines).

[7] Designated 1st Regiment, Advance Base Brigade on 18 February 1914 (today, 2nd Marines).

[8] Fleet exercises were important rehearsals in the development of amphibious warfare and the establishment of advanced base defenses, including the art and science of loading/un-loading ships, transfer of equipment from ship to shore, employment of shore artillery, signal science, combat engineering, harbor construction/defense, and the employment of automatic weapons.

[9] See also, Wake Island (in three parts).

[10] Colonel Dessez’ also formed and trained the 1st Samoan Battalion (infantry) (territorial reserve).

[11] One of Putnam’s flight officers was Captain Frank C. Tharin, a graduate of the US Naval Academy (1934).  While serving on Wake Island, Tharin distinguished himself through his courage and aeronautical skill against overwhelming Japanese air forces.  He was a recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross, Silver Star Medal, and two Air Medals.  Tharin spend the war in a Japanese POW camp.  I worked for LtGen Tharin in 1968 at a time when Tharin served as the Operations Deputy to the Commandant of the Marine Corps.  General Tharin passed away in 1990.

[12] Wesley McCoy Platt survived the war as a POW.  The United States subsequently awarded him the Silver Star Medal, Legion of Merit, and Purple Heart Medal.  During the Korean War, Colonel Platt died of wounds while serving on the staff of Major General Oliver P. Smith, USMC, who commanded the 1st Marine Division at the Chosin Reservoir.

[13] Warfare is by its nature complex; overly complicated war plans simply increase the likelihood of failure at critical moments of the battle.  

[14] First Lieutenant George H. Cannon, a communications officer, received severe wounds from Japanese guns but he refused evacuation until the communications center was once more up and running.  Cannon died shortly afterwards. He received the Medal of Honor posthumously, the first Marine to receive the nation’s highest medal during World War II.

[15] The round of the 90-mm gun weighed 23 pounds.  It had a maximum range of 39,500 feet.


One Face of War

Private First Class John Wilson Hoffman, USMC

Lott, Texas is a small town in Falls County.  The settlement began in 1889 with the construction of the San Antonio & Aransas Pass Railroad.  The town was named after Uriah Lott, who at the time was president of the railroad company.  In 1889, the settlement involved a total of around two-hundred folks.  They were church-going people, as evidenced by the fact that Lott, Texas had three churches in 1892.  There were also two cotton gins, and two gristmills.  In 1892, there were 350 people living in Lott and by then the town had a weekly newspaper.  In eight more years, the town had grown to 1,200 citizens.  Besides those working for the railroad, there were local farmers who raised corn and cotton.

But Lott was typical of small Texas towns.  Economic conditions were meager, and folks scratched out their existence through hard work barely rewarded.  And, as with most other Texas communities, the Great Depression took its toll and people began to move away.  In 1930, only 650 people were recorded living there in the national census.  Roosevelt’s Public Works Administration helped, of course.  Government subsidies encouraged diversification from farming into stock raising and truck farming.  Even now, though, economic opportunities are limited, and the town relies heavily on the speed trap along State Highway 44/US Highway 77.  In 2010, 759 people lived in Lott, Texas.

One of its citizens, born and raised for a time in Lott, was John Wilson Hoffman.  One of four children, John was born in 1922.  His parents, John Wilson Hoffman, Sr., and Sadie Hoffman, moved their family to Houston in 1929.  John graduated from Stephen F. Austin High School in the class of 1940 and the 18-year old went to work for Lindle Air Products Company as a shipping clerk.  In August 1942, John was 20-years-old, the nation was at war, and the young patriot John Wilson Hoffman, Jr. joined the United States Marine Corps.

J. W. Hoffman

After recruit training, the Marines assigned Hoffman to the 18th Marine Regiment — combat engineers with the 2nd Marine Division.  The regiment was not slated to participate in the Battle of Guadalcanal, but the 6th Marine Regiment was organizing and needed men to fill their ranks.  In mid-December 1942, John Hoffman was one of several dozen engineers transferred to the 6th Marines and Hoffman ended up in Lima Company, 3/6.  The regiment shipped out to New Zealand for pre-combat training.

The ladies of New Zealand are lovely to look at, and young Marines are easy to fall in love — as did John W. Hoffman, and he was so much in love with his New Zealand lassie that he didn’t want to leave her.  When 3/6 sailed for the Solomon Islands, John was not among them.  In fact, no one saw Hoffman again until 7 January 1943, when he surrendered to New Zealand police in Wellington.

When 3/6 returned from Guadalcanal in late February 1943, Hoffman was waiting for them at Camp Russell.  Hoffman received a court-martial for missing his movement.  During war, this is a serious offense — but it could have been worse.  Had his superiors charged him with desertion in time of war, he may have faced a death penalty.  Hoffman was found guilty of “missing movement,” and sentenced to ninety days in the brig.  He was also fined $15.00 per month for three months.  It doesn’t seem like much of a fine, but Hoffman was only making $50/month in 1943.

After three months of confinement in a Marine Corps brig, Hoffman was a changed man.  Upon release, he returned to his unit, stayed out of trouble, and applied himself to combat training.  His transformation from a love-starved puppy to a fighting grunt was so impressive that his company commander promoted him to Private First Class (PFC).

John Hoffman had become a “squared away” Marine.  When Lima Company mustered for their next combat assignment, John Hoffman was present and accounted for.  What no one in Lima Company knew was that their next assignment would take them to a tiny atoll in the middle of a very large ocean.  The atoll had a name — Tarawa.  The island was Betio.

Far above the station of mere privates, America’s war planners had been looking for an air base capable of supporting operations across the mid-Pacific — to the Philippines in the South, and to Japan in the North.  The need for advanced bases led these war planners to focus their attention on the Mariana Islands, which at the time were heavily defended by the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy.  Before the US could seize the Marianas group, they would have to control the Marshall Islands, but the Marshalls were cut off from direct communications with Hawaii by a Japanese garrison  on the small island of Betio, on the western side of the Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands.  Before the Americans could concentrate on the Mariana Islands, they would have to neutralize the Japanese on Betio.

Betio Island is Tarawa’s largest.  It is located about 2,400 miles southwest of Pearl Harbor.  Despite its size on the atoll, it is infinitesimally small.  It is a flat island, two miles long, triangle shaped, and at its widest point, only 800 yards from shore to shore.

If Evans Carlson’s diversionary raid at Makin Island accomplished anything at all, besides getting good Marines killed, it was that it sent a signal to the Imperial Japanese that their Island defenses were vulnerable to American attack — and that the Americans viewed the Gilbert Islands as an important objective. 

Thus warned, the Japanese reinforced Betio with its 6th Special Landing Force (Japanese Marines).  In total, the Japanese island commander, Rear Admiral Tomonari Saichiro, commanded 5,000 defenders.  An experienced engineer, Saichiro directed the construction of the Betio defenses.  Saichiro’s plan was to stop the Americans before they reached the island’s shore; and if that failed, then to make the American’s pay dearly for their audacity.  The Evans Carlson gave the Japanese a year to perfect Betio Island’s defenses.

The Gilbert Islands campaign was the largest invasion force yet assembled for a single operation in the Pacific.  There were seventeen aircraft carriers, twelve battleships, twelve cruisers, sixty-six destroyers, and thirty-six troop transports.  Aboard the transports were the 2nd Marine Division and the US 27th Infantry Division — totaling 35,000 troops.  The Marines began their assault at 0900 on 20 November 1943.  The 6th Marines, under the command of Colonel Maurice G. Holmes, would dedicate the 1st Battalion (William K. Jones, commanding) and 3rd Battalion (Kenneth F. McLeod, commanding) in the third and fourth wave assaults at Green Beach.[1]

It was at Green Beach, during the fourth wave attack, that Private First Class John Wilson Hoffman, Jr., met his end.  As Lima Company moved up to relieve elements of the 1st Battalion, an enemy bullet found Hoffman and instantly killed him.  The Marines of Lima Company gently laid his body to rest along with thirty other members of his company.  They did their best to mark the grave site as lethal battle raged around them and the Marines continued to move forward under heavy Japanese resistance.  It was a horrific battle.  The movement of tanks, artillery, and troops soon obliterated the grave marker.

As with so many other Marines who died at Betio over a period of 72-hours — 1,009 killed, 2,101 wounded — the Marine Corps eventually notified Hoffman’s parents that their son’s remains were unrecoverable.  History Flight[2] recovered John Hoffman’s body, where it had lain undisturbed on Betio Island for 76 years.  John Hoffman finally came back home to Texas in the spring of 2020.  There was no one left alive in John’s family who remembered him.

Some gave all.

Sources:

  1. Alexander, J. H.  Utmost Savagery: The Three Days of Tarawa.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1995.
  2. Graham, M. B.  Mantle of Heroism: Tarawa and the Struggle for the Gilberts.  Presidio Press, 1998.
  3. Hammel, E. & J. E. Lane.  Bloody Tarawa.  Zenith Press, 1998.
  4. Smith, H. M.  Coral and Brass.  New York: Scribeners & Sons, 1949.

Endnotes:

[1] The 2nd Battalion (Raymond G. Murray, commanding) was assigned to assault and occupy the outer islands of Tarawa.  Murray later commanded the 5th Marines during the Battle of the Pusan Perimeter during the Korean War and in that capacity, participated in the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir.  Both Jones and Murray achieved flag rank with Jones retiring as a lieutenant general and Murray as a major general.

[2] History Flight is a privately operated non-profit organization dedicated to researching, recovering, and repatriating the remains of American servicemen from World War II through the Vietnam War period.  Since 2003, History Flight has recovered 130 missing servicemen in both the ETO and PTO.  John Hoffman’s remains were one of these.


The First Hell

When Marines landed on Guadalcanal, they came ashore without opposition.  A small Japanese construction force assigned to complete the airfield at Lunga Point wisely withdrew as soon as they realized there were Marines in the area.  Guadalcanal did eventually turn into a combat cesspool, but not during the initial landing.

Marines landing on Tulagi, however, faced off against a determined enemy.  This enemy would eventually let go, of course, but only over their dead body—and the U. S. Marines were plenty capable of accommodating them. 

On 7 August 1942, the Japanese, in their insufferable arrogance, continued to imagine that it could maintain their presence in the central Pacific region, even after their two attempts to extend their homeland defensive perimeter were thwarted in the Battle of Coral Sea (May 1942) and at Midway (June 1942).  These two back-to-back victories gave the Allied forces the opportunity to seize the offensive elsewhere in the Pacific.  Allied planners decided to make this move against the British Solomon Islands: Guadalcanal, Tulagi, and Gavutu-Tanambogo.

As part of their campaign that resulted in the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) sent naval infantry to occupy Tulagi and nearby islands in the southern Solomons.  The Third Kure Special Naval Landing Force occupied Tulagi on 3 May 1942 [Note 1].  These troops almost immediately began to construct a seaplane base, ship refueling facility, and communications station on Tulagi and Gavutu/Tanambogo and the Florida Islands.

Aware of these activities, Allied planners became even more concerned when they observed Japanese efforts to construct an airfield near Lunga Point.  Admiral Ernest J. King, serving as Commander-in-Chief of the United States Fleet, devised a plan to deny the use of the Solomon Islands.  Otherwise, the Japanese would be positioned to threaten supply routes between the United States and Australia.  King’s long-term objective was to seize or neutralize the Japanese base of operations at Rabaul.  The Solomon campaign would also enable the Americans to support Allied efforts in New Guinea and open the way to re-take the Philippine Islands.

Admiral Chester A. Nimitz, Commander, United States Pacific, established the South Pacific theater of operations, placing Vice Admiral Robert L. Ghormley in command to direct the Allied effort in the Solomon Islands.  Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift, U. S. Marine Corps, moved his 1st Marine Division from the United States to New Zealand for pre-combat training.  Additional Allied units (land, naval, and air forces) established bases in Fiji, Samoa, and New Caledonia.  Vandegrift’s established his forward headquarters at Espiritu Santo in the New Hebrides.  The Solomon campaign would become known as Operation Watchtower.

Initially, Watchtower excluded Guadalcanal—until Allied intelligence noted the airfield construction at Lunga Point.  Nimitz then decided to incorporate Guadalcanal.  The expeditionary force involved 75 warships and troop transports (both American and Australian), which assembled near Fiji on 26 July 1942.  There was only time for one rehearsal landing.

Major General Vandegrift commanded 16,000 Allied (mostly U. S. Marines) and he intended to lead the majority of these ashore on Guadalcanal on 7 August.  Vandegrift assigned a second offensive operation to his deputy commander, Brigadier General William H. Rupertus [Note 2].  Rupertus would command the assault on Tulagi with 3,000 Marines.

Bad weather in the southern Solomon Islands allowed the Americans to approach Guadalcanal undetected early on the morning of 7 August.  The amphibious ready group split into two groups, one earmarked for Guadalcanal, and the other for Tulagi, Gavutu-Tanambogo-Florida.  Aircraft from USS Wasp attacked the Japanese installation on Tulagi in advance of the landing, destroying 15 seaplanes.  The cruiser USS San Juan and destroyers USS Monsoon and Buchanan conducted pre-landing bombardments.  To provide supporting fire for the main landing, the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines (1/2) made an unopposed landing on Florida Island at 07:40—guided to their objective areas by Australian coast watchers.

The Battle for Tulagi

Tulagi Island is roughly two miles long and about a half-mile wide.  It’s location is south of Florida Island, 22 miles across Sealark Channel from Guadalcanal.  A ridge rising 300 feet above sea level marks the northwest-southeast axis.  Two-thirds of the way down from its northwest tip, the Ridgeline is broken by a ravine, and then rises again toward a triangle of hills.  The farthest southeast hill is designated Hill 208, and the farthest northeast hill is designated Hill 281.  Three thousand yards east of Tulagi are the islets of Gavutu and Tanambogo.  Gavutu Harbor on the Northeast end of the island, and Purvis Bay, southeast of Gavutu, forms an ideal deep-water anchorage.

At 0800, two battalions of Marines made an unopposed landing on the western shore of Tulagi, about midway between the two ends of the oblong shaped island [Note 3].  Thick beds of coral prevented landing craft from reaching the shoreline, so the Marines went over the side of their landing craft and waded ashore—a distance of about 110 yards.

The Marine landing surprised Tulagi’s Japanese defenders and it took them some time to organize their defenses.  The overall Japanese commander of the Tulagi contingent was Captain Shigetoshi Miyazaki of the Yokohama Air Group.  Miyazaki radioed his commander in Rabaul, IJN Captain Sadayoshi Yamada, informing him that Tulagi was under attack, that he was in the process of destroying signals, and his intention to resist the Americans to the last man.

2/5 secured the Northwest end of Tulagi without opposition and then joined Edson’s Raiders in their advance toward the southeastern end of the island.  Japanese resistance was stiff, but isolated.  Around noon, Captain Suzuki, commanding the 3rd Kure Force, repositioned his men on Hill 281 and a nearby ravine at the Southeast end of the island.   Japanese defensive positions included dozens of tunneled caves dug into the hill’s limestone cliffs.  Each of these contained machine-gun positions protected by layers of sandbags.  The Marines reached the primary line of resistance (MLR) near dusk and dug in for the night.

Japanese naval infantry attacked the Marine perimeter five times during the night.  Their tactics included ferocious frontal attacks and small unit attempts at infiltration.  The Marines met teach assault by fire and close combat.  Although taking a few casualties, the Marine line held through the night; the Japanese gave up far more dead or wounded.  Twenty-two year old Private First Class (PFC) Edward H. Ahrens, from Dayton, Kentucky, assigned to the 1st Raiders, single-handedly engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat, killing thirteen Japanese before he too was killed [Note 4].

At daybreak on 8 August, six Japanese infiltrators shot and killed three Marines before they were eliminated.  Later that morning, 2/2 landed to reinforce the landing force; 2/5, surrounded Hill 281 and the ravine.  Pounding the enemy with mortar fire, the Marines launched a coordinated attack with satchel charges and well-aimed small arms fire.  Each assault on Japanese held caves and machine-gun positions was expensive.  Japanese naval infantry fought from foxholes, slit trenches, pillboxes, and caves.  Machine-gunners fired their weapons until killed; when one gunner fell, another would take his place and this process continued until everyone in that position was dead.

Stiff Japanese resistance continued until late afternoon, although the Marines found a few stragglers over the next several days, engaged them, and killed them.  In total, only three Japanese soldiers surrendered on Tulagi.  Forty Japanese escaped by swimming to Florida Island.  Over the next several months, Marines tracked down these escapees and killed them.

The Battle for Gavutu-Tanambogo

Gavutu and Tanambogo were islets, so-called because they were little more than exposed mounds of coral rising out of the sea.  The Japanese constructed a seaplane base on Gavutu.  The highest point on Gavutu was Hill 148; on Tanambogo, Hill 121—hills the IJN defended with concrete bunkers and a series of well-fortified caves.

Separating the two islets was a causeway extending some 1,600 feet.  Nearly six hundred troops occupied these islets, including a number of Japanese and Korean civilians assigned to the 14th Construction Unit.  The two islets were mutually supportive; each was in machine gun range of the other.

Marine commanders mistakenly estimated an enemy force of around two-hundred men.  Following a naval bombardment, which  damaged the seaplane base, Marines of the 1st Parachute Battalion stormed ashore at Gavutu at noon on 7 August 1942.  Because naval gunfire had damaged the seaplane ramp, the Marines had to disembark their landing craft in an exposed position.  Japanese defensive fire began ripping up the Marines, wounding or killing one in every ten of the battalion’s 397 troops.  The landing force scrambled to get out of the killing zone. 

Captain George Stallings, the battalion operations officer, ran forward to direct the forward movement of two Browning machine guns and a mortar section.  He directed these weapons against Japanese positions to suppress their murderous fires.  Dive bombers arrived to help suppress the Japanese, with some success.  After about two hours of intense combat, the Marines reached and began climbing Hill 148.  From the top, they began working their way down the other side, clearing Japanese positions with satchel charges, grenades, and hand-to-hand combat.  Other Marines at the top of Hill 148 began delivering automatic weapons fire against the Japanese on Tanambogo’s Hill 121.

The battalion commander radioed General Rupertus for reinforcements before assaulting Tanambogo.  Rupertus detached a company from 1/2 on Florida Island to assist in the assault, ignoring the advice of his operations officer that one company would not be sufficient.  Rupertus reasoned that since most of the Japanese on Tanambogo were aircrew, aircraft maintenance, and construction personnel with no combat training., one company would do.  Again, the Marine hierarchy under-estimated Japanese strength and fighting spirit.  The rifle company was sent to Tanambogo shortly after dark on 7 August.  The Marines came ashore while illuminated by the fires created by earlier naval bombardments.  Five of the landing craft received heavy automatic weapons fire as they approached the shore, which killed or wounded several navy boat crewmen.  Realizing that his position was untenable, the company commander quickly transferred his dead and wounded to the remaining boats to be taken back to the landing ship.  He then led twelve Marines in a sprint across the causeway to cover on Gavutu.

During the night, heavy thunderstorms dropped torrential rains on the islets.  Under this cover, the Japanese launched several assaults against the Marine perimeter.  General Vandegrift, monitoring the operation from Guadalcanal, ordered 3/2 to prepare for landing on Tanambogo the next morning.  The battalion began moving ashore at 10:00 on 8 August.  Initially, the landing received air support from carrier-based attack aircraft, but General Vandegrift called it off after two aircraft accidentally dropped their bombs on Marine positions — killing four Marines.  USS San Juan directed accurate naval gunfire on Tanambogo lasting for about thirty minutes.  Marines from Gavutu provided covering fire while 3/2 went ashore, which enabled the battalion to complete its landing phase by 12:00.

3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines began its assault at 16:15, supported by two Stuart light tanks.  One of these tanks became stuck on a large tree stump and was isolated from its infantry support.  Fifty Japanese airmen assaulted the tank and set it on fire, killing two crewmen and nearly beating the remaining two Marines to death before infantry fire killed most of the attackers [Note 5].

3/2 Marines began clearing operations by systematically destroying the Japanese cave network with satchel charges and hand grenades.  During the night of 8 August, Japanese defenders initiated several assaults, which frequently involved hand-to-hand engagements.  By noon on 9 August, all Japanese resistance on Tanambogo ended.  During the battle for Tulagi and Gavutu-Tanambogo, Marines killed 863 Japanese soldiers/airmen and took twenty prisoners (most of whom were civilian laborers).  Marine and Navy losses were 122 killed in action, 200 wounded.

The U. S. Navy quickly turned the Tulagi anchorage into a naval base/refueling station.  Japanese naval superiority in the “slot” forced Allied ships into the refuge of Tulagi during hours of darkness and ships encountering significant battle damage were usually anchored at Tulagi for repairs.  Later in the war, Tulagi became an operating base for the Navy’s patrol-torpedo boats; Florida Island became an American seaplane base.

Once officials declared the islets “secure,” General Rupertus’ landing force joined the rest of the 1st Marine Division on Guadalcanal.   

Sources:

  1. Alexander, J. H.  Edson’s Raiders: The 1st Marine Raider Battalion in World War II.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2000.
  2. Christ, J. F.  Battalion of the Damned: 1st Marine Paratroopers at Gavutu and Bloody Ridge, 1942.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2007.
  3. Hammel, E.  Carrier Clash: The Invasion of Guadalcanal & The Battle of the Eastern Solomons, August 1942.  St. Paul: Zenith Press, 1999.
  4. Jersey, S. C.  Hell’s Islands: The Untold Story of Guadalcanal.  College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2008.
  5. Miller, J.  Guadalcanal: The First Offensive.  Washington: Center of Military History, 1995.

Endnotes:

[1] The Special Naval Landing Forces were not called “marines,” but their purpose was identical to those of their American opponents: to project naval power ashore.

[2] William H. Rupertus (1889-1945) was a highly decorated Marine Corps officer who participated in the Banana Wars, as a China Marine, and in World War II at Guadalcanal, New Britain, and the Marianas  Island campaigns.  A distinguished marksman and a member of the famed Marine Corps Rifle Team, Rupertus was the author of the now famous Rifleman’s Creed.  

[3] Commanding officers were: 1st Raider Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Merritt A. Edson; 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines (1/5), Lieutenant Colonel Harold E. Rosecrans.  Company B and Company D of the 1st Raiders were first ashore, followed by Company A and Company C.  Japanese defenders did not make a serious attempt to oppose the landing; they instead withdrew into a network of caves and dugouts intending to inflict as many casualties on the Marines as possible.  Edson soon realized that naval and aerial bombing had no effect on the Japanese defenses unless they were “direct hit.”

[4] Posthumously awarded the Navy Cross.

[5] Marines later discovered 42 Japanese bodies around the tank, one of whom was the Japanese executive officer of the Yokohama Air Group, Lieutenant Commander Saburo Katsuta, and several of his seaplane pilots.  The overall commander at Tanambogo was Navy captain Miyazaki, who blew himself up inside his command post during the late afternoon of 8 August.