Nights, especially the first few, are terrifying mainly because of the unknown. Hence the morning light unaccompanied by a banzai charge furnishes the greatest relief.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
Slowly, very slowly, the hours of my watch passed, and at last I leaned over and shook my runner awake. "It's time for your watch," I whispered. "Look out for that place over there,maybe Japs in it. Keep awake." With that I rolled over on the ground and was asleep in an instant.
Right away, it seemed, someone was shaking me and insisting, "Wake up!" I jerked bolt upright - in combat your reflexes act fast and you never go fully to sleep. A glance at my watch showed it was almost dawn.
I turned to my runner who was lying against me, asleep. "Let's go!" I said, "Pass the word to the squad leaders to get set." He didn't stir.I shook him.He still didn't move. He was dead. With the callousness that war demands, I rolled him over, reached for his canteen, and poured the precious water into my own canteen. Then I left him lying there....
- 1st Lt. John C. Chapin, 3/24 in Breaching the Marianas: The Battle for Saipan
Throughout the night, Japanese troops probed the newly established American lines. The Japanese commander, General Saito, was determined to follow the predictable pattern of attempting to destroy the Marines on the beaches with a single crushing blow. Their lines were so disrupted, however, that there was little chance of success. Screaming Japanese soldiers, intent on zemmetsu (annihilation) caused some tension and several casualties, but were stopped - literally - dead in their tracks. Individual actions flared up and down the line, and members of the 4th Division could do little to help their comrades in the 2nd Division who bore the brunt of the initial attacks.
The 23rd and 25th Marines came in for their share of violence around 0330, as local attacks broke on the American fortifications. These were followed by a pause, then a barrage of artillery and mortar fire crashed down on the 4th Division. The tired Marines knew what was coming, but as they peered out of their foxholes they noticed an unnerving sight - massed hordes of civilians, among them many women and children, were bearing down on their line. Japanese soldiers followed close on their heels, counting on the American reluctance to fire on noncombatants; the Marines checked their fire until the enemy were nearly on top of them. The fighting grew fierce as a halftrack behind the Marine lines exploded and burned, lighting up an entire company front in the 25th Marines. Japanese artillery rained down and the Marines grudgingly gave up ground. The lines were bent back nearly 400 yards in a hell illuminated by burning equipment, artillery explosions, small arms fire and naval star shells. Marine halftracks rattled up and down firing their big 75mm guns, and Japanese artillery walked shells along the beach all night. The 23rd Marines, while not as heavily engaged, were constantly facing the threat of infiltrators; theirs was a personal, vicious battle for individual foxholes as enemies fought in the dark with bayonets, knives, and fists. An hour into the fight, 200 Japanese sneaked through the swampy area of Lake Susupe that divided the wings of the two divisions. Some made it as far as Charan Kanoa before being hunted down.
The Marines had had a rough night, but they had held. 700 dead Japanese were counted in the 6th Marines' sector alone. As the sun gradually rose, hopes for a quick Imperial victory were shattered; chances for a Japanese victory at all were reduced to slim at best.
"D plus one" morning found the elements of the battalion in good contact, satisfactory position, with moderate casualties only, and uncertain of the location of the front. This last uncertainty is S.O.P. (standard operating procedure) in the early phases of all operations, and unknowlingly [sic] some of the companies were a part of the front line. Also the first of the civilian population started trickling into our lines. They had suffered, were filthy, diseased, and wounded. Yet the faces of all save the children showed no expression or at most uncertainty; fear did not show.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
As the morning wore on, commanders reorganized their priorities and tired men tracked the isolated pockets of infiltrators who occasionally opened fire in the rear. Intense Japanese artillery fire was falling all along the line. Naturally, this made the task of the officers extraordinarily difficult.
...I received word that we had once again lost a battalion commander. His name was Lieutenant Colonel Nayard [Maynard] Schultz, but we called him Heinie. He was a big guy, from Detroit, I believe. He took a piece of shrapnel in his head. It was a small sliver so it had to hit him in just the right spot to kill him.
- Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."
First Battalion's liaison officer, Captain Frederic Stott, was nearby.
Lt. Col. Schultz of San Deigo, the battalion commander and a fearless bull of a man, yet subtle in his powers of understanding, Captain Gene Mundy (the operations officer) from Northwestern and Mt. Carmel, Illinois, and I set out for a regimental command post shortly after daybreak. Our walk back showed that in our sector we held a beach head at least 1,000 yards deep, that several batteries of artillery were established, and that we were definitely down in the flat with poor observation, while the Japanese retained altitude, observation, and weapons.
The C.P. was located in a clump of trees, and nearby artillery plus movement in and out of the C.P. must have indicated a profitable target. For we were soon hugging the ground throughout a bombardment the equal of anything undergone the previous day or night. Cover was scarce, several casualties were suffered, but the conference of battalion commanders continued in a dugout. Lt. Col. Schultz neglected to take cover and despite the severity of the shelling,he remained atop the hole. It was a deadly position as a close round sent a piece of shrapnel into his head, and he died in a matter of seconds.
His death stripped the Battalion of its most-needed man, for good battalion commanders are practically indispensable. All three companies were well-led and well-officered, but the coordinating person was now gone. Hence the real job of running the battalion devolved upon Mundy, with what aid Captain Webster (the Intelligence officer) and I could furnish him. He responded magnificently, and was the man chiefly responsible for knitting together the splendidly functioning companies with the staff and the succeeding commanding officers, Lt. Col. Brunelli and Lt. Col. Lessing. Throughout the battle the unit functioned as efficiently as we had anticipated.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
The 24th Marines had spent the night in division reserve, but they would not remain there long. 3rd Battalion was sent to reinforce the battered 25th Marines; 2nd Battalion went to help the 23rd Marines, and Company A's 1st Battalion deployed between the two regiments. The redeployment took several hours, the 4th Division jumped off at 1230.
...the morning orders called for a tank-infantry push to the first ridge of higher ground. Disorganization delayed the advance until early afternoon when it went forward successfully. Casualties were occurring constantly, and by the time this dominating ground was secured, a sizable portion of our original effectives had been lost. Delay is inevitable, but it is costly.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
The afternoon that followed would become typical of the campaign to follow: a long, hard grind against well-placed Japanese defenders. The 23rd was hit particularly hard on the 16th.
Every one of us who came over the top was a sitting duck waiting to be shot. We were sent over in waves of 20 (plus or minus) men about two minutes apart.
Our plan had been anticipated and their guns of all kinds had been zeroed in on every inch of this battlefield... all hell broke lose.
- Private John Seymour, 23rd Marines, quoted in Harry Goldberg's "D-Day In The Pacific."
This kind of fighting was taking its toll, as General Saito had anticipated. The Japanese had no hope of winning the battle, but they could make the Americans pay.
As we neared the beach, in what had been the hard-hit 23rd Marines D-Day sector, we saw about 50 dead who were now becoming heavily covered with dust. Their bodies were hugely bloated, and they were turning black in the hot sun. The only way to distinguish Jap from American was by the helmets, leggings (Jap, wrap-around; American, canvas), or belts (black leather or khaki web). There were about two dead Marines for three dead Japs.By 1730, the assault had ground to a halt along the 0-1 line, the Fina Susa ridge.
- Robert Sherrod reporter for Time magazine, quoted in Harry Goldberg's "D-Day In The Pacific."
The ridge now occupied was wooded on our western slope and open on the Japanese side. Thus while on our side it was comparatively safe, save for air-burst shelling, penetration beyond the ridge drew immediate enemy fire. Our supply system was beginning to function normally and the front lines were receiving needed rations of food, water, and ammunition in larger doses. But the position, with its possibilities of by-passed enemy and infiltration, had an unsavory odor.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
In Able Company's sector, the wounded from one particularly nasty incident were formed into a miserable convoy. Howard Smith straddled the hood of a jeep, holding his BAR, and the wounded straggled behind. Some of the machine gunners had "liberated" an oxcart from some local farmers, and they loaded Spohn and several other Marines into the cart. The cart was poorly made, with no suspension and uneven wheels, and the painfully wounded men yelled in protest and agony as they were bumped and jolted along towards the rear.
Later that night, a heavy machine gun under Corporal Anthony Pramberger was wiped out. Pramberger, Luca Durante, Lawrence Jaster, Aldo Passante, Dominick Piccolomini, and William Savoy were wounded, while ammunition carrier Alan Smith was killed outright. The loss of a heavy MG was a serious blow to the company's defense, and a rescue team was hastily assembled to bring in the wounded and recover the gun. Among those picked to go were Corporal Albert Duryea and PFC John Manson, of one of the rifle platoons, and Tom Hurley and George Smith of the machine gun platoon.
They had no sooner started up a nearby hill then the Japanese artillery hit them. The Japanese had been fortifying Saipan for years, and had acquired several German-made 88mm guns. These terrifying rifled guns fired in a flat trajectory, and their missiles travelled faster than sound, leading one man who encountered them in Europe to recall that the shells would explode without any warning, followed by the scream of its approach. The first shell barely missed the Marines, who knew that the next one would surely have their name on it.
Duryea and Manson were unlucky; both were killed by the shelling. Smith and Hurley were knocked to the ground and covered in dirt, but unwounded. Once the wounded were safely back at the company aid station - Pramberger's team was unreachable for the time being - Smith sat down, ears ringing from the blast. He had lost too many friends that day, and seeing Duryea and Manson killed literally right in front of him had been too much. The young Marine started sobbing. Corpsman Frank Munski calmed him down, and reached into one of his bags, producing a little bottle of peach brandy. Smith drank it down, and managed to get himself back under control, but the damage had been done. For the rest of his life, he would have difficulty controlling his emotions - a case of battle fatigue.
Killed:
Corporal Albert Benjamin Duryea. Glendale, CA. Age 24. Shrapnel wound, head.
PFC Sperling Green Garrett. Minette, AL.
PFC John Lloyd Manson. Chillicothe, OH. Age 21. Fragment wound, head and side.
PFC Alan Milton Smith. PA.
Wounded:
1st Lt. David E. Smith
Sergeant Warren J. Buchanan
Corporal Ernest Cubero
Corporal Anthony A. Pramberger
PFC Harold J. Carter, Jr.
PFC John Martin Corcoran
PFC John J. Czepiel
PFC Luca Durante
PFC Edward J. Hackett
PFC Wallace Morgan Holt
PFC Frederick D. Iverson
PFC Lawrence J. Jaster
PFC Peter Markovitch
PFC Hershell O. Miller
PFC Dale L. Owings
PFC Aldo Passante
PFC Dominick Piccolomini
PFC William F. Savoy
PFC David W. Spohn
PFC John R. Svoboda
PFC Fred Eugene Thomas
PFC Robert N. Wise
Private Wilfred M. Goode
Private George W. Pelish
Private Vernon E. Smith
Sick:
Corporal Eugene R. Walsh
PFC Jesse George Acklam, Jr.
PFC Burnett Fenger
Total: 29 battle, 3 sick - 32
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