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A CLOSE ENCOUNTER: The Marine Landing on Tinian
by Richard Harwood
Counterattack
At about 1630, the 4th Division commander, General
Cates, ordered his forces to button up for the night. A nighttime
counterattack was expected. Barbed wire, preloaded on amphibian vehicles
(DUKWs), was strung all along the division front. Ammunition was stacked
at every weapons position. Machine guns were emplaced to permit
interlocking fields of fire. Target areas were assigned to mortar crews.
Artillery batteries in the rear were registered to hit probable enemy
approach routes and to fire illuminating shells if a lighted battlefield
was required. Of great importance, as it turned out, was the positioning
up front of 37mm guns and canister ammunition (antipersonnel shells
which fired large pellets for close-in fighting); in the night fighting
that followed, they inflicted severe losses on the enemy.
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As the troops dug in to await whatever the night
would bring, the 24th Marines, backed up by the 1st Battalion, 8th
Marines, occupied the northern half of the defensive crescent. The 25th
and a battalion of the 23d occupied the southern half of the crescent
with the remainder of the 23d in reserve. On the beaches in the rear,
artillery battalions from the 10th and 14th Marines, engineer
battalions, and other special troops were on alert.
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Preparatory Strikes
No battle in the Pacific was a "piece of cake." But
there was less apprehension among the Americans about the outcome at
Tinian than in any major operation of the war. Admiral Raymond A.
Spruance later described it as "probably the most brilliantly conceived
and executed amphibious operation of World War II." Lieutenant General
Holland M. Smith, commander of the Expeditionary Troops during the
seizure of the Marianas, called it "the perfect amphibious
operation."
It took place under optimal conditions for success.
The small Japanese garrison on the island had no hope of relief,
resupply, escape, or victory. Three miles away, across the narrow
Saipan Channel, three battle-tested American divisions—more than
50,000 men—were available for the inevitable invasion. For seven
weeks the bombardment from U.S. air and sea armadas, joined by the big
guns on Saipan, had been relentless, day and night.
The effect on Tinian's civilian inhabitants was
recorded by James L. Underhill, later a Marine lieutenant general, who
became the island's military commander at the end of the battle:
The state of these people was indescribable. They
came in with no possessions except the rags on their backs. They had
been under a two-month intense bombardment and shelling and many were
suffering from shell shock . . . They had existed on very scant rations
for six weeks and for the past week had had practically nothing to eat.
They had been cut off from their own water supply for a week and had
caught what rainwater they could in bowls and cans. Hundreds of them
were wounded and some of their wounds were gangrenous. Beri beri,
syphilis, pneumonia, dysentery, and tuberculosis were common. [They
needed] shelter, food, water, clothing, medical care, and
sanitation.
The bombardment began on 11 June—four days
before the Saipan invasion—when carrier planes from Vice Admiral
Marc A. Mitcher's Task Force 58 launched a three-and-a-half day
pummeling of all the principal Mariana Islands. A fighter sweep on the
first day, carried out by 225 Grumman Hellcats, destroyed about 150
Japanese aircraft and ensured American control of the skies over the
islands.
Following the raid, a member of the Japanese garrison
on Saipan, wrote in his diary: "For two hours, enemy planes ran amuck
and finally left leisurely amidst the unparalleledly inaccurate
antiaircraft fire. All we could do was watch helplessly."
Over the next two days, bombers hit the islands and
shipping in the area with no letup. There was a fatalistic diary entry
by one of the Tinian troops: "Now begins our cave life." Another
soldier wrote of the ineffectual antiaircraft fire—"not one hit out
of a thousand shots"—and reported that "the Naval Air Group has
taken to its heels." Yet another diarist was indignant, too: "The naval
aviators are robbers . . . When they ran off to the mountains they stole
Army provisions."
Fast battleships from Task Force 58 joined the
bombardment from long range on 13 June. Their fires, analysts later
said, were "ineffective" and "misdirected" at soft targets rather than
at the concealed gun positions ringing the island. But, as an element
in the cumulative psychological and physical toll on soldiers and
civilians alike, harassing fires of this nature were not
inconsiderable.
Over the next six weeks, the effort to degrade and
destroy the defenses and garrison of Tinian escalated. On 18 June, Navy
Task Force 52, commanded by Rear Admiral Richmond K. Turner, added its
guns to the mission. Air-strikes involving carrier planes and Army
P-47s were ordered. From 28 June until the Tinian landing on 24 July,
massed artillery battalions, firing from Saipan's southern shore, poured
thousands of tons of steel into the island. By mid-July, 13 battalions
were engaged in the mission, firing 160 guns—105s and Long Toms
155s—around the clock. The six battalions of the XXIV Corps
Artillery alone undertook 1,509 fire missions in that period, firing
24,536 rounds.
The precise effect of the artillery fires from Saipan
will never be known, but it is reasonable to assume there were many
scenes of the kind retired Brigadier General Frederick Karch described
in his oral history memoir. He was a major, serving as operations
officer for an artillery regiment—the 14th Marines—during the
Tinian campaign, and he recalled:
I remember going by a [Japanese] machine gun crew.
They had been trying to get a firing position and had been caught by the
artillery barrage, apparently, and they were laid out just like a school
solution, with each man carrying his particular portion of the gun
crew's equipment. And that was where they had died in a very fine
situation, except they were on the wrong side of the barrage.
During the two weeks from 26 June to 9 July, the
cruisers, Indianapolis, Birmingham, and Montpelier hit the
island daily. Their fires were supplemented in the week preceding Jig
Day (the D-Day designation for Tinian) by the battleships Colorado,
Tennessee, and California; the cruisers, Louisville,
Cleveland, and New Orleans; 16 destroyers, and dozens of
supporting vessels firing a variety of ordnance ranging from white
phosphorous aimed at wooded areas around the Japanese command post on
Mount Lasso to 40mm fire and rocket barrages by LCIs (landing craft,
infantry) directed at caves and other close-in targets.
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By
the time the assault waves landed, most, if not all, Japanese beach
defense weapons had been destroyed by the preinvasion bombardments. This
Japanese navy-type 25mm machine cannon was knocked out before it could
disrupt the landings. Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 87701
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The Japanese, meanwhile, were preparing for their
counterattack. Because of shattered communications lines, it could not
be a coordinated operation. Units would act on their own under Colonel
Ogata's general order of 28 June to "destroy the enemy on beaches with
one blow, especially where time prevents quick movement of forces within
the island."
They had on the left or northern flank of the Marine
lines 600 to 1,000 naval troops at the Ushi Point air fields. Near Mount
Lasso, opposite the center of the Marine lines, were two battalions of
the 50th Infantry Regiment and a tank company, about 1,500 men
all told. On the west coast, facing the Marine right flank, were about
250 men from an infantry company of the 50th Regiment, a tank
detachment and an anti-tank squad.
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Even
enemy weapons, such as this Japanese 120mm type 10 Naval dual-purpose
gun located not-too-far inland from the invasion beaches, was put out of
action, but not before it, and two 6-inch guns, hit the battleship
Colorado (BB 45) and destroyer Norman Scott (DD 690)
causing casualties before being destroyed. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
91349
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Attacking Marines hold up their advance in the face of
an exploding Japanese ammunition dump after an attack by Navy planes
supporting the drive across Tinian. Note the trees bent over by the
force of shock waves caused by the eruption. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
87298
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South of Mount Lasso, nearly six miles from the White
Beaches, was the Japanese Mobile Counterattack Force—a
900-man battalion of the 135th Infantry Regiment, equipped with
new rifles and demolition charges. Its journey toward the northwestern
beaches and the Marine lines was perilous. All movements in daylight
were under air surveillance and vulnerable to American fire power. But
the battalion set out under its commander—a Captain Izumi—and
was hit on several occasions by unobserved artillery and naval gunfire.
Izumi pushed on and got to his objective through skillful use of terrain
for for concealment. At 2230 he began probing the center of the Marine
line where the 2d Battalion, 24th Marines under Garretson was tied in
with the 3d Battalion under Chambers.
"While most of these Japanese crept along just
forward of the lines," Carl Hoffman wrote, ". . . a two-man
reconnaissance detail climbed up on a battered building forward of the
24th Marines and audaciously (or stupidly) commenced jotting notes
about, or drawing sketches of, the front lines. This impudent gesture
was rewarded with a thundering concentration of U.S. artillery
fire."
Chambers had a vivid memory of that night:
There was a big gully that ran from the southeast to
northwest and right into the western edge of our area. Anybody in their
right mind could have figured that if there was to be any
counterattacks, that gully would be used . . . .
During the night . . . my men were reporting that
they were hearing a lot of Japanese chattering down in the gully . . .
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Amphibian tractors line up waiting to discharge their
Marine passengers on the beach. The almost complete devastation of
Japanese beachhead defenses, which was not entirely expected by the
Marines, permitted this peaceful combat landing. Department of Defense
Photo (USMC) 93379
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While some Marines were deposited "feet dry" beyond the
ashore in the shallows from the amtracs which brought them shoreline of
the beaches, others had to land "feet wet" wading in from the attack
transports seen in the background. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
88088
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They hit us about midnight in K company's area. They
hauled by hand a couple of 75mm howitzers with them and when they got
them up to where they could fire at us, they hit us very hard. I think K
company did a pretty damn good job but . . . about 150, 200 Japs managed
to push through [the 1,500 yards] to the beach area . . . .
When the Japs hit the rear areas, all the artillery
and machine guns started shooting like hell. Their fire was coming from
the rear and grazing right up over our heads . . . . In the meantime,
the enemy that hit L company was putting up a hell of a fight within 75
yards of where I was and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about
it.
Over in K company's area . . . was where the attack
really developed. That's where [Lt.] Mickey McGuire . . . had his 37mm
guns on the left flank and was firing canister. Two of my men were
manning a machine gun [Cpl Alfred J. Daigle and Pfc Orville H. Showers]
. . . . These two lads laid out in front of their machine gun a cone of
Jap bodies. There was a dead Jap officer in with them. Both of the boys
were dead.
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Although frontline Marines appreciated the support of
the 1st and 2d Provisional Rocket Companies' truck-mounted 4.5-inch
rocket launchers, they always dreaded the period immediately following a
barrage. The dust and smoke thrown up at that time served as a perfect
aiming point for enemy artillery and mortars which soon followed. Notice
the flight of rockets in the upper left hand section of the
picture. Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 92269
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For
Tinian, as in the Marshall Islands and the Saipan and Guam operations,
DUKWs (amphibian trucks) were loaded with artillery pieces and
ammunition at the mount out area. At the objective beaches, they were
driven ashore right to the designated gun emplacements enabling the gun
crews to get their weapons laid in and firing quickly. Here, an A-frame
unloads a 75mm pack howitzer from an Army DUKW. Department of Defense
Photo (USMC) 87645
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A Marine combat correspondent, described this
action:
[Showers and Daigle] held their fire until the
Japanese were 100 yards away, then opened up. The Japanese charged,
screaming, "Banzai," firing light machine guns and throwing hand
grenades. It seemed impossible that the two Marines—far ahead of
their own lines—could hold on . . . . The next morning they were
found slumped over their weapons, dead. No less than 251 Japanese bodies
were piled in front of them . . . . The Navy Cross was awarded
posthumously to Daigle and the Silver Star posthumously to Showers.
Just before daybreak, Chambers recalled, two tank
companies showed up, commanded by Major Robert I. Neiman. They "wanted
to get right at the enemy" and Chambers sent them off to an area held by
Companies K and L. Neiman returned in about a half hour and said, "You
don't need tanks. You need undertakers. I never saw so many dead
Japs."
Another large contingent of Japanese troops was
"stacked up" by the 75mm pack howitzer gunners of Battery D of the 14th
Marines, supported by the .50-caliber machine guns of Batteries E and F:
"They literally tore the Japanese . . . to pieces." Altogether about 600
Japanese were killed in their attack on the center.
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On
the night of 24-25 July, a Japanese counterattack accompanied by tanks
failed completely with heavy losses. Here a Marine inspects the enemy
dead near a destroyed tank. Note the placement of the bullet holes in
the helmets in the ditch. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
91047
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On the left flank, 1st Battalion, 24th Marines, came
under attack at 0200 from about 600 Special Naval Landing Force
troops out of the barracks at the Ushi Point airfields. Company A, hit
so hard it was reduced at one point to only 30 men with weapons, was
forced to draw reinforcements from engineers, corpsmen, communicators,
and members of the shore party. Illumination flares were fired over the
battlefield, allowing the Marines to use 37mm canister shells, machine
gun fire, and mortars to good effect. The fight continued until dawn
when medium tanks from the 4th Tank Battalion lumbered in to break up
the last attacking groups. At that point, many Japanese began using
their grenades to commit suicide.
As the sun rose, 476 Japanese bodies were counted in
this sector of the defensive crescent, most of them in front of the
Company A position.
The last enemy attack that night hit the right or
southern flank of the Marines beginning at 0330 when six Japanese tanks
(half of the Japanese tank force on Tinian) clattered up from the
direction of Tinian Town to attack the 23d Marines position. They were
met by fire from Marine artillery, anti-tank guns, bazookas, and small
arms. Lieutenant Jim Lucas, a professional reporter who enlisted in the
Marine Corps shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor and was
commissioned in the field, was there:
The three lead tanks broke through our wall of fire.
One began to glow blood-red, turned crazily on its tracks and careened
into a ditch. A second, mortally wounded, turned its machine guns on its
tormentors, firing into the ditches in a last desperate effort to fight
its way free. One hundred yards more and it stopped dead in its tracks.
The third tried frantically to turn and then retreat, but our men closed
in, literally blasting it apart . . . . Bazookas knocked out a fourth
tank with a direct hit which killed the driver. The rest of the crew
piled out of the turret screaming. The fifth tank, completely
surrounded, attempted to flee. Bazookas made short work of it. Another
hit set it afire and its crew was cremated.
The sixth tank was chased off, according to Colonel
Jones, by a Marine driving a jeep. Some appraisers of this action
believe only five tanks were involved. In any case, the destruction of
these tanks did not end the fight on the right flank. Infantry units of
the 50th Regiment continued to attack in the zone of 2d
Battalion, 23d Marines. They were repulsed and killed in great numbers,
largely through the effective use of 37mm anti-tank guns using canister
shot. In "the last hopeless moments of the assault," Hoffman wrote,
"some of the wounded Japanese destroyed themselves by detonating a
magnetic tank mine which produced a terrific blast."
From the Japanese standpoint, the night's work had
been a disaster: 1,241 bodies left on the battlefield; several hundred
more may have been carted away during the night. Fewer than 100 Marines
were wounded or killed. "The loss of these [Japanese] troops," the
historian Frank Hough has written:
. . . broke the back of the defense of Tinian. With
their communications shattered by sustained fire from Saipan and
increasing fire from Tinian itself . . . the survivors were capable of
only the weakest, most dazed sort of resistance . . . . Now and again
during the next seven days, small groups took advantage of the darkness
to [launch night attacks], but for the most part they simply withdrew in
no particular order until there remained nowhere to withdraw.
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A
line of skirmishers was the formation normally used at Tinian even where
there was no enemy contact. A platoon from the 2d Marines pushes forward
while an observation plane (QY) circles overhead. High ground in the
distance is part of a long spine extending straight south from Mount
Lasso, an objective to be taken. Marine Corps Historical Collection
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That was a common judgment after the Tinian battle
had ended. But at the time, according to the 4th Division intelligence
officer, Lieutenant Colonel Gooderham McCormick, a Marine Reserve
officer who later became mayor of Philadelphia, things were not so
clear: "We still believed [after the counterattack] the enemy capable of
a harder fight . . . and from day to day during our advance expected a
bitter fight that never materialized."
Nevertheless, a lot of hard work lay ahead. One of
the most demanding tasks was the simple but exhausting job of humping
through cane fields in terrific heat, humidity, and frequent monsoon
downpours, fearful not only of sniper fire, mines, or booby traps, but
fearful as well of fires that could sweep through the cane fields,
incinerating anyone in their path.
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