SILK CHUTES AND HARD FIGHTING: US. Marine Corps
Parachute Units in World War II
by Lieutenant Colonel Jon T. Hoffman (USMCR)
Rendezvous at Gavutu
After four months of war, the 1st Marine Division was
alerted to its first prospect of action. The vital Samoan Islands
appeared to be next on the Japanese invasion list and the Navy called
upon the Marines to provide the necessary reinforcements for the meager
garrison. In March 1942, Headquarters created two brigades for the
mission, cutting a regiment and a slice of supporting forces from each
of the two Marine divisions. The 7th Marines got the nod at New River
and became the nucleus of the 3d Brigade. That force initially included
Edson's 1st Raider Battalion, but no paratroopers. In the long run that
was a plus for the 1st Parachute Battalion, which remained relatively
untouched as the brigade siphoned off much of the best manpower and
equipment of the division to bring itself to full readiness. The
division already was reeling from the difficult process of wartime
expansion. In the past few months it had absorbed thousands of newly
minted Marines, subdivided units to create new ones, given up some of
its best assets to field the raiders and parachutists, and built up a
base and training areas from the pine forests of New River, North
Carolina.
The parachutists and the remainder of the division
did not have long to wait for their own call to arms, however. In early
April, Headquarters alerted the 1st Marine Division that it would begin
movement overseas in May. The destination was New Zealand, where
everyone assumed the division would have months to complete the process
of turning raw manpower into well-trained units. Part of the division
shoved off from Norfolk in May. Some elements, including Companies B and
C of the parachutists, took trains to the West Coast and boarded naval
transports there on 19 June. The rest of the 1st Parachute Battalion was
part of a later Norfolk echelon, which set sail for New Zealand on 10
June.
(click on image for an enlargement in a new window)
|
While the parachutists were still at sea, the advance
echelon of the division had already bedded down in New Zealand. But the
1st Marine Division's commander, Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift,
received a rude shock shortly after he and his staff settled into their
headquarters at a Wellington hotel. He and his outfit were slated to
invade and seize islands in the southern Solomons group on 1 August,
just five weeks hence. To complicate matters, there was very little
solid intelligence about the objectives. There were no maps on hand, so
the division had to create its own from poor aerial photos and sketches
hand-drawn by former planters and traders familiar with the area.
Planners estimated that there were about 5,275 enemy
on Guadalcanal (home to a Japanese air field under construction) and a
total of 1,850 on Tulagi and Gavutu-Tanambogo. Tulagi, 17 miles north of
Guadalcanal, was valuable for its anchorage and seaplane base. The
islets of Gavutu and Tanambogo, joined by a causeway, hosted a sea plane
base and Japanese shore installations and menaced the approaches to
Tulagi. In reality, there were probably 536 men on Gavutu Tanambogo,
most of them part of construction or aviation support units, though
there was at least one platoon of the 3d Kure Special Naval Landing
Force, the ground combat arm of the Imperial Navy. The list of heavy
weapons on Gavutu Tanambogo included two three-inch guns and an
assortment of antiaircraft and antitank guns and machine guns.
By the time the last transports docked in New Zealand
on 11 July, planners had outlined the operation and the execution date
bad slipped to 7 August to allow the division a chance to gather its
far-flung echelons and combat load transports. Five battalions of the
1st and 5th Marines would land on the large island of Guadalcanal at
0800 on 7 August and seize the unfinished airfield on the north coast.
The 1st Raider Battalion, slated to meet the division on the way to the
objective, would simultaneously assault Tulagi. The 2d Battalion, 5th
Marines, would follow in trace and support the raiders. The 2d Marines,
also scheduled to rendezvous with the division at sea, would serve as
the reserve force and land 20 minutes prior to H-Hour on Florida Island,
thought to be undefended. The parachutists received the mission of
attacking Gavutu at H plus four hours. The delay resulted from the need
for planes, ships, and landing craft to concentrate first in support of
the Tulagi operation. Once the paratroopers secured Gavutu, they would
move on to its sister. The Tulagi, Gavutu-Tanambogo, and Florida
operations fell under the immediate control of a task force designated
as the Northern Group, headed by Brigadier General William H. Rupertus,
the assistant division commander.
Marine Parachute Pioneers
In October 1940, the Commandant sent a circular
letter to all units and posts to solicit volunteers for the
paratroopers. All applicants, with the exception of officers above the
rank of captain, had to meet a number of requirements regarding age (21
to 32 years), height (66 to 74 inches), and health (normal eyesight and
blood pressure). In addition, they had to be unmarried, an indication
of the expected hazards of the duty. Applications were to include
information on the Marine's educational record and athletic experience,
so Headquarters was obviously interested in placing above-average
individuals in these new units.
The letter further stated that personnel qualified as
parachutists would receive an unspecified amount of extra pay. The
money served as both a recognition of the danger and an incentive to
volunteer. Congress would eventually set the additional monthly for
parachutists at $100 for officers and $50 for enlisted men. Since a
private first class at that time earned about $36 per month and a second
lieutenant $125, the increase amounted to a hefty bonus. It would prove
to be a significant factor in attracting volunteers, though parachuting
would have generated a lot of interest without the money. As one early
applicant later put it, based on common knowledge of the German success
in the Low Countries, many Marines thought "that this was going to be a
grand and glorious business." Parachute duty promised "plenty of
action" and the chance to get in on the ground floor of a revolutionary
type of warfare.
To get the program underway, the Commandant
transferred Marine Captain Marion L. Dawson from duty with the Navy's
Bureau of Aeronautics to Lakehurst, New Jersey, to oversee the new
school. Two enlisted Marine parachute riggers would serve as his
initial assistants. Marine parachuting got off to an inauspicious start
when Captain Dawson and two lieutenants made a visit to Hightstown, New
Jersey, to check out the jumping towers. The other officers, Second
Lieutenants Walter S. Osipoff and Robert C. McDonough, were slated to
head the Corps' first group of parachute trainees. After watching a
brief demonstration, the owner suggested that the Marines give it a
test. As Dawson later recalled, he "reluctantly" agreed, only to break
his leg when he landed at the end of his free fall.
On 26 October 1940, Osipoff, McDonough, and 38
enlisted men reported to Lakehurst. The Corps was still developing its
training program, so the initial class spent 10 days at Highstown
starting on 28 October. Immediately after that they joined a new class
at the Parachute Material School land followed that 16-week coursed of
instruction until its completion on 27 February 1941. A Douglas R3D-2
transport plane arrived from Quantico on 6 December and remained there
through the 21st, so the pioneer Marine paratroopers made their first
jumps during this period. For the remainder of the course, they leapt
from Navy blimps stationed at Lakehurst. Lieutenant Osipoff, the senior
officer, had the honor of making the first jump by a Marine paratrooper.
By graduation, each man had completed the requisite 10 jumps to qualify
as a parachutist and parachute rigger. Not all made it through
several dropped from the program due to ineptitude or injury. The
majority of these first graduates were destined to remain at Lakehurst
as instructors or to serve the units in the Fleet Marine Force as
riggers.
By the time the second training class reported,
Dawson and his growing staff had created a syllabus for the program.
The first two weeks were ground school, which emphasized conditioning,
wearing of the harness, landing techniques, dealing with wind drag of
the parachute once on the ground, jumping from platforms and a plane
mockup, and packing chutes. Students spent the third week riding a bus
each day to Highstown where they applied their skills on the towers.
The final two weeks consisted of work from aircraft and tactical
training as time permitted. Students had to complete six jumps to
qualify as a parachutist. The trainers had accumulated their knowledge
from the Navy staff, from observing Army training at Fort Benning, and
from a film depicting German parachutists. The latter resulted in one
significant Marine departure from U.S. Army methods. Whereas the Army
made a vertical exit from the aircraft, basically just stepping out the
door, Marines copied the technique depicted in the German film and tried
to make a near-perpendicular dive, somewhat like a simmer coming off the
starting block.
Marine paratroopers used two parachutes in training
and in tactical jumps. They wore the main chute in a backpack
configuration and a reverse chute on their chest. When jumping from
transport planes, the main opened by means of a static line attached to
a cable running lengthwise in the cargo compartment. Once the
jumpmaster gave the signal, a man crouched in the doorway, made his exit
dive, and then drew his knees toward his chest. The parachutist, arms
wrapped tightly about his chest chute, felt the opening shock of his
main canopy almost immediately upon leaving the plane. If not, he had
to pull the ripcord to deploy the reserve chute. (When jumping from
blimps, the parachutists had to use a ripcord for the main chute too.)
A parachutist's speed of descent depended upon his weight, so Marines
carried as little as possible to keep the rate down near 16 feet per
second, the equivalent of jumping from a height of about 10 feet. At
that speed a jumper had to fall and roll when hitting the ground so as
to spread the shock beyond his leg joints. Training jumps began at 1,000
feet, while the standard height for tactical jumps in the Corps was 750
feet. The Germans jumped from as low as 300 feet, but that made it
impossible to open the emergency chute in time for it to be
effective.
|
After a feverish week of unloading, sorting, and
reloading equipment and supplies, the parachutists boarded the transport
USS Heywood on 18 July and sailed in convoy to Koro Island in the
Fijis, where the entire invasion force conducted landing rehearsals on
28 and 30 July. These went poorly, since the Navy boat crews and most of
the 1st Marine Division were too green. The parachute battalion was
better trained than most of the division, but this was its very first
experience as a unit in conducting a seaborne landing. There is no
indication that planners gave any thought to using their airborne
capability, though in all likelihood that was due to the lack of
transport aircraft or the inability of available planes to make a
round-trip flight from New Zealand to the Solomons.
The parachutists had the toughest mission in many
respects. With a grand total of eight small infantry platoons, they had
just 361 Marines, much less than half the manpower of other line
battalions. More important, they lacked the punch of heavy mortars and
machine guns and had fewer of the light versions of these weapons, too.
Even their high proportion of individual automatic weapons would not
help much; many of these were the unreliable Reising submachine gun. The
late hour of their attack also sacrificed any element of surprise,
though planners assumed that naval and aerial firepower would suppress
Japanese defenders. Nor was terrain in their favor. The coral reef
surrounding the islets meant that the only suitable landing site was the
boat basin on the northeast coast of Gavutu, but that point was subject
to flanking fire from defenders on Tanambogo. In addition, a steep coral
hill dominated the flat coastal area of each islet. Finally, despite a
rule of thumb that the attackers should outnumber defenders by three to
one in an amphibious assault, they were going up against a significantly
larger enemy force. The parachutists' only advantage was their high
level of training and esprit.
The U.S. task force sailed into the waters between
Guadalcanal and Florida Island in the pre-dawn darkness of 7 August
1942. Planes and ships soon opened up on the initial objectives while
Marines clambered down cargo nets into landing craft. The parachutists
watched while their fellow sea-soldiers conducted the first American
amphibious assault of the war. As the morning progressed and opposition
on Tulagi appeared light, the antiaircraft cruiser San Juan
conducted three fire missions against Gavutu and Tanambogo, expending
1,200 rounds in all. Just prior to noon, the supporting naval forces
turned their full fury on the parachute battalion's initial objective.
San Juan poured 280 five-inch shells onto Gavutu in four minutes,
then a flight of dive bombers from the carrier Wasp struck the
northern side of the island, which had been masked from the fire of
ship's guns. Oily black smoke rose into the sky and most Marines assumed
that few could survive such a pounding, but the display of firepower
probably produced few casualties among the defenders, who had long since
sought shelter in numerous caves and dugouts.
|
A
trainee descends from the controlled tower at Hightstown, New Jersey, in
January 1941. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
127-GC-495-302377
|
The bombardment did destroy one three-inch gun on
Gavutu as well as the seaplane ramp the parachutists had hoped to land
on, thus forcing the Higgins boats to divert to a nearby pier or a small
beach. The intense preparation fires had momentarily stunned the
defenders, however, and the first wave of Marines, from Company A,
clambered from their landing craft onto the dock against little
opposition. The Japanese quickly recovered and soon opened up with
heavier fire that stopped Company A's advance toward Hill 148 after the
Marines had progressed just 75 yards. Enemy gunners also devoted some of
their attention to the two succeeding waves and inflicted casualties as
they made the long approach around Gavutu to reach the northern shore.
Company B landed four minutes after H-Hour against stiff opposition, as
did Company C seven minutes later. The latter unit's commander, Captain
Richard J. Huerth, took a bullet in the head just as he rose from his
boat and he fell back into it dead. Captain Emerson E. Mason, the
battalion intelligence officer, also received a fatal wound as he
reached the beach. When Company C's two platoons came ashore, they took
up positions facing Tanambogo to return enfilading fire from that
direction, while Company B began a movement to the left around the hill.
That masked them from Tanambogo and allowed them to make some
progress.
The nature of the enemy action defenders
shooting from concealed underground positions surprised the
parachutists. Several Marines became casualties when they investigated
quiet cave openings, only to be met by bursts of fire. The battalion
communications officer died in this manner. Many other parachutists
withheld their fire because they saw no targets. Marines tossed grenades
into caves and dugouts, but oftentimes soon found themselves being fired
on from these "silenced" positions. (Later investigation revealed that
baffles built inside the entrances protected the occupants or that
connecting trenches and tunnels allowed new defenders to occupy the
defensive works.)
|
The
canopy fills out as a jumper is released from the fly-away tower at
Hightstown, New Jersey, in 1941. This 150-foot tower was a copy of one
used as an amusement ride at the New York World's Fair the previous
year. Photo courtesy of Anderson PC826
|
Twenty minutes into the battle, Major Williams began
leading men up Hill 148 and took a bullet in his side that put him out
of action. Enemy fire drove off attempts to pull him to safety and his
executive officer, Major Charles A. Miller, took control of the
operation. Miller established the command post and aid station in a
partially demolished building near the dock area. Around 1400 he called
for an air strike against Tanambogo and half an hour later he radioed
for reinforcements.
(click on image for an enlargement in a new window)
|
While the parachutists awaited this assistance,
Company B and a few men from Company A continued to attack Hill 148 from
its eastern flank. Individuals and small groups worked from dugout to
dugout under rifle and machine gun fire from the enemy. Learning from
initial experience, Marines began to tie demolition charges of TNT to
long boards and stuff them into the entrances. That prevented the enemy
from throwing back the explosives and it permanently put the positions
out of action. Captain Harry L. Torgerson and Corporal Johnnie Blackan
distinguished themselves in this effort. Other men, such as Sergeant Max
Koplow and Corporal Ralph W. Fordyce, took a more direct approach and
entered the bunkers with submachine guns blazing. Platoon Sergeant Harry
M. Tully used his marksmanship skill and Johnson rifle to pick off a
number of Japanese snipers. The parachutists got their 60mm mortars into
action, too, and used them against Japanese positions on the upper
slopes of Hill 148. By 1430, the eastern half of the island was secure,
but enemy fire from Tanambogo kept the parachutists from overrunning the
western side of the bill.
In the course of the afternoon, the Navy responded to
Miller's call for support. Dive bombers worked over Tanambogo, then two
destroyers closed on the island and thoroughly shelled it. In the midst
of this action, one pilot mistakenly dropped his ordnance on Gavutu's
hilltop and inflicted several casualties on Company B. By 1800, the
battalion succeeded in raising the U.S. flag at the summit of Hill 148
and physically occupying the remainder of Gavutu. With the suppression
of fire from Tanambogo and the cover of night, the parachutists
collected their casualties, to include Major Williams, and began
evacuating the wounded to the transports.
|
Colonel Robert H. Williams commanded the 1st Parachute
Battalion for much of its early life, taking charge at its inception and
leading it into its first battle at Gavutu. He later sewed as commander
of the 1st Parachute Regiment during most of that outfit's 10 months of
existence. Department of Defense Photo (USMC) A400721
|
Ground reinforcements arrived more slowly than fire
support. Company B, 1st Battalion, 2d Marines, reported to Miller on
Gavutu at 1800. He ordered them to make an amphibious landing on
Tanambogo and arranged for preparatory fire by a destroyer. The
parachutists also would support the move with their fire and Company C
would attack across the causeway after the landing. Miller, perhaps
buoyed by the late afternoon decrease in enemy fire from Tanambogo, was
certain that the fresh force would carry the day. For his part, the
Company B commander left the meeting under the impression that there
were only a few snipers left on the island. The attack ran into trouble
from the beginning and the Marine force ended up withdrawing under heavy
fire.
During the night, the parachutists dealt with
Japanese emerging from dugouts or swimming ashore from Tanambogo or
Florida. A heavy rain helped conceal these attempts at infiltration, but
the enemy accomplished little. At 2200, General Rupertus requested
additional forces to seize Tanambogo and the 3d Battalion, 2d Marines,
went ashore on Gavutu late in the morning on 8 August. They took over
many of the positions facing Tanambogo and in the afternoon launched an
amphibious attack of one company supported by three tanks. Another
platoon followed up the landing by attacking across the causeway. Bitter
fighting ensued and the 3d Battalion did not completely secure Tanambogo
until 9 August. This outfit suffered additional casualties on 8 August
when yet another Navy dive bomber mistook Gavutu for Tanambogo and
struck Hill 148.
|
This
publicity photo from 1942 purportedly shows a Marine of the Lakehurst,
New Jersey, parachute school jumping from an aircraft in flight. While
it was likely staged on the ground, it does clearly depict the soft
helmet then worn by Marine parachutists in training, the main and
emergency chutes, and the static line that automatically opened the
primary canopy. Photo courtesy of Anderson PC826
|
In the first combat operation of an American
parachute unit, the battalion had suffered severe losses: 28 killed and
about 50 wounded, nearly all of the latter requiring evacuation. The
dead included four officers and 11 NCOs. The casualty rate of just over
20 percent was by far the highest of any unit in the fighting to secure
the initial lodgement in the Guadalcanal area. (The raiders were next in
line with roughly 10 percent.) The Japanese force defending
Gavutu-Tanambogo was nearly wiped out, with only a handful surrendering
or escaping to Florida Island. Despite the heavy odds the parachutists
had faced, they had proved more than equal to the faith placed in their
capabilities and had distinguished themselves in a very tough fight. In
addition to raw courage, they had displayed the initiative and
resourcefulness required to deal with a determined and cunning
enemy.
On the night of 8 August, a Japanese surface force
arrived from Rabaul and surprised the Allied naval forces guarding the
transports. In a brief engagement the enemy sank four cruisers and a
destroyer, damaged other ships, and killed 1,200 sailors, all at minimal
cost to themselves. The American naval commander had little choice the
next morning but to order the early withdrawal of his force. Most of the
transports would depart that afternoon with their cargo holds half full,
leaving the Marines short of food, ammunition, and equipment. The
parachutists suffered an additional loss that would make life even more
miserable for them. They had landed on 7 August with just their weapons,
ammunition, and a two-day supply of C and D rations. They had placed
their extra clothing, mess gear, and other essential field items into
individual rolls and loaded them on a landing craft for movement to the
beach after they secured the islands. As the parachutists fought on
shore, Navy personnel decided they needed to clear out the boat, so they
uncomprehendingly tossed all the gear into the sea. The battalion ended
its brief association with Gavutu on the afternoon of 9 August and
shifted to a bivouac site on Tulagi.
The parachutists had the toughest mission in many
respects. With a grand total of eight small infantry platoons, they had
just 361 Marines, much less than half the manpower of other line
battalions. More important, they lacked the punch of heavy mortars and
machine guns and had fewer of the light versions of these weapons, too.
Even their high proportion of individual automatic weapons would not
help much; many of these were the unreliable Reising submachine gun. The
late hour of their attack also sacrificed any element of surprise,
though planners assumed that naval and aerial firepower would suppress
Japanese defenders. Nor was terrain in their favor. The coral reef
surrounding the islets meant that the only suitable landing site was the
boat basin on the northeast coast of Gavutu, but that point was subject
to flanking fire from defenders on Tanambogo. In addition, a steep coral
hill dominated the flat coastal area of each islet. Finally, despite a
rule of thumb that the attackers should outnumber defenders by three to
one in an amphibious assault, they were going up against a significantly
larger enemy force. The parachutists' only advantage was their high
level of training and esprit.
The U.S. task force sailed into the waters between
Guadalcanal and Florida Island in the pre-dawn darkness of 7 August
1942. Planes and ships soon opened up on the initial objectives while
Marines clambered down cargo nets into landing craft. The parachutists
watched while their fellow sea-soldiers conducted the first American
amphibious assault of the war. As the morning progressed and opposition
on Tulagi appeared light, the antiaircraft cruiser San Juan
conducted three fire missions against Gavutu and Tanambogo, expending
1,200 rounds in all. Just prior to noon, the supporting naval forces
turned their full fury on the parachute battalion's initial objective.
San Juan poured 280 five-inch shells onto Gavutu in four minutes,
then a flight of dive bombers from the carrier Wasp struck the
northern side of the island, which had been masked from the fire of
ship's guns. Oily black smoke rose into the sky and most Marines assumed
that few could survive such a pounding, but the display of firepower
probably produced few casualties among the defenders, who had long since
sought shelter in numerous caves and dugouts.
|
A
trainee descends from the controlled tower at Hightstown, New Jersey, in
January 1941. Department of Defense Photo (USMC)
127-GC-495-302377
|
The bombardment did destroy one three-inch gun on
Gavutu as well as the seaplane ramp the parachutists had hoped to land
on, thus forcing the Higgins boats to divert to a nearby pier or a small
beach. The intense preparation fires had momentarily stunned the
defenders, however, and the first wave of Marines, from Company A,
clambered from their landing craft onto the dock against little
opposition. The Japanese quickly recovered and soon opened up with
heavier fire that stopped Company A's advance toward Hill 148 after the
Marines had progressed just 75 yards. Enemy gunners also devoted some of
their attention to the two succeeding waves and inflicted casualties as
they made the long approach around Gavutu to reach the northern shore.
Company B landed four minutes after H-Hour against stiff opposition, as
did Company C seven minutes later. The latter unit's commander, Captain
Richard J. Huerth, took a bullet in the head just as he rose from his
boat and he fell back into it dead. Captain Emerson E. Mason, the
battalion intelligence officer, also received a fatal wound as he
reached the beach. When Company C's two platoons came ashore, they took
up positions facing Tanambogo to return enfilading fire from that
direction, while Company B began a movement to the left around the hill.
That masked them from Tanambogo and allowed them to make some
progress.
The nature of the enemy action defenders
shooting from concealed underground positions surprised the
parachutists. Several Marines became casualties when they investigated
quiet cave openings, only to be met by bursts of fire. The battalion
communications officer died in this manner. Many other parachutists
withheld their fire because they saw no targets. Marines tossed grenades
into caves and dugouts, but oftentimes soon found themselves being fired
on from these "silenced" positions. (Later investigation revealed that
baffles built inside the entrances protected the occupants or that
connecting trenches and tunnels allowed new defenders to occupy the
defensive works.)
|
The
canopy fills out as a jumper is released from the fly-away tower at
Hightstown, New Jersey, in 1941. This 150-foot tower was a copy of one
used as an amusement ride at the New York World's Fair the previous
year. Photo courtesy of Anderson PC826
|
Twenty minutes into the battle, Major Williams began
leading men up Hill 148 and took a bullet in his side that put him out
of action. Enemy fire drove off attempts to pull him to safety and his
executive officer, Major Charles A. Miller, took control of the
operation. Miller established the command post and aid station in a
partially demolished building near the dock area. Around 1400 he called
for an air strike against Tanambogo and half an hour later he radioed
for reinforcements.
(click on image for an enlargement in a new window)
|
While the parachutists awaited this assistance,
Company B and a few men from Company A continued to attack Hill 148 from
its eastern flank. Individuals and small groups worked from dugout to
dugout under rifle and machine gun fire from the enemy. Learning from
initial experience, Marines began to tie demolition charges of TNT to
long boards and stuff them into the entrances. That prevented the enemy
from throwing back the explosives and it permanently put the positions
out of action. Captain Harry L. Torgerson and Corporal Johnnie Blackan
distinguished themselves in this effort. Other men, such as Sergeant Max
Koplow and Corporal Ralph W. Fordyce, took a more direct approach and
entered the bunkers with submachine guns blazing. Platoon Sergeant Harry
M. Tully used his marksmanship skill and Johnson rifle to pick off a
number of Japanese snipers. The parachutists got their 60mm mortars into
action, too, and used them against Japanese positions on the upper
slopes of Hill 148. By 1430, the eastern half of the island was secure,
but enemy fire from Tanambogo kept the parachutists from overrunning the
western side of the bill.
In the course of the afternoon, the Navy responded to
Miller's call for support. Dive bombers worked over Tanambogo, then two
destroyers closed on the island and thoroughly shelled it. In the midst
of this action, one pilot mistakenly dropped his ordnance on Gavutu's
hilltop and inflicted several casualties on Company B. By 1800, the
battalion succeeded in raising the U.S. flag at the summit of Hill 148
and physically occupying the remainder of Gavutu. With the suppression
of fire from Tanambogo and the cover of night, the parachutists
collected their casualties, to include Major Williams, and began
evacuating the wounded to the transports.
|
Colonel Robert H. Williams commanded the 1st Parachute
Battalion for much of its early life, taking charge at its inception and
leading it into its first battle at Gavutu. He later sewed as commander
of the 1st Parachute Regiment during most of that outfit's 10 months of
existence. Department of Defense Photo (USMC) A400721
|
Ground reinforcements arrived more slowly than fire
support. Company B, 1st Battalion, 2d Marines, reported to Miller on
Gavutu at 1800. He ordered them to make an amphibious landing on
Tanambogo and arranged for preparatory fire by a destroyer. The
parachutists also would support the move with their fire and Company C
would attack across the causeway after the landing. Miller, perhaps
buoyed by the late afternoon decrease in enemy fire from Tanambogo, was
certain that the fresh force would carry the day. For his part, the
Company B commander left the meeting under the impression that there
were only a few snipers left on the island. The attack ran into trouble
from the beginning and the Marine force ended up withdrawing under heavy
fire.
During the night, the parachutists dealt with
Japanese emerging from dugouts or swimming ashore from Tanambogo or
Florida. A heavy rain helped conceal these attempts at infiltration, but
the enemy accomplished little. At 2200, General Rupertus requested
additional forces to seize Tanambogo and the 3d Battalion, 2d Marines,
went ashore on Gavutu late in the morning on 8 August. They took over
many of the positions facing Tanambogo and in the afternoon launched an
amphibious attack of one company supported by three tanks. Another
platoon followed up the landing by attacking across the causeway. Bitter
fighting ensued and the 3d Battalion did not completely secure Tanambogo
until 9 August. This outfit suffered additional casualties on 8 August
when yet another Navy dive bomber mistook Gavutu for Tanambogo and
struck Hill 148.
|
This
publicity photo from 1942 purportedly shows a Marine of the Lakehurst,
New Jersey, parachute school jumping from an aircraft in flight. While
it was likely staged on the ground, it does clearly depict the soft
helmet then worn by Marine parachutists in training, the main and
emergency chutes, and the static line that automatically opened the
primary canopy. Photo courtesy of Anderson PC826
|
In the first combat operation of an American
parachute unit, the battalion had suffered severe losses: 28 killed and
about 50 wounded, nearly all of the latter requiring evacuation. The
dead included four officers and 11 NCOs. The casualty rate of just over
20 percent was by far the highest of any unit in the fighting to secure
the initial lodgement in the Guadalcanal area. (The raiders were next in
line with roughly 10 percent.) The Japanese force defending
Gavutu-Tanambogo was nearly wiped out, with only a handful surrendering
or escaping to Florida Island. Despite the heavy odds the parachutists
had faced, they had proved more than equal to the faith placed in their
capabilities and had distinguished themselves in a very tough fight. In
addition to raw courage, they had displayed the initiative and
resourcefulness required to deal with a determined and cunning
enemy.
On the night of 8 August, a Japanese surface force
arrived from Rabaul and surprised the Allied naval forces guarding the
transports. In a brief engagement the enemy sank four cruisers and a
destroyer, damaged other ships, and killed 1,200 sailors, all at minimal
cost to themselves. The American naval commander had little choice the
next morning but to order the early withdrawal of his force. Most of the
transports would depart that afternoon with their cargo holds half full,
leaving the Marines short of food, ammunition, and equipment. The
parachutists suffered an additional loss that would make life even more
miserable for them. They had landed on 7 August with just their weapons,
ammunition, and a two-day supply of C and D rations. They had placed
their extra clothing, mess gear, and other essential field items into
individual rolls and loaded them on a landing craft for movement to the
beach after they secured the islands. As the parachutists fought on
shore, Navy personnel decided they needed to clear out the boat, so they
uncomprehendingly tossed all the gear into the sea. The battalion ended
its brief association with Gavutu on the afternoon of 9 August and
shifted to a bivouac site on Tulagi.
|