Able Company kicked off Independence Day with a spectacular, yet all-too-familiar display of pyrotechnics. The 14th Marines, the divisional artillery regiment, began a thirty minute barrage of the troublesome slopes of Hill 727, in preparation for an attack by the 23rd Marines.
To celebrate the 4th of July we rested on this vantage point [Radar Hill] as all types of supporting weapons ranged in on enemy observation below and before us, while other elements of the division pressed northward. As the excellence of this observation post became more widely known the number of observers increased, until by mid-afternoon a well-rounded collection of brass was on hand. The size and importance of the crowd gathered in plain view in the open, clearly indicated the contempt and disdain felt for the remaining Japanese and their weapons.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
Soon, fireworks of a different sort lit up the sky - green star clusters fired by the 25th Marines. These visual signals, combined with frantic radio traffic, informed the 14th Marines that their shells were falling short and landing on friendly troops. Though relatively safe on the slopes of Radar Hill, Captain Irving Schechter could relate to the panic and frustration of the troops on the ground, as he had been in the same situation earlier in the campaign:
At any rate, we ran into this friendly fire one time on Saipan while going through some cane fields. I immediately had some green star cluster fire shot up in the air, which was supposed to be the signal to our artillery to let up. Then I got on the phone with our battery commander to give him the word.
"Hey," I told them, "one of our own shells had almost taken a leg off one of my men. Will you please cease fire."
"Are you sure they're our shells?" the reply came back. "Maybe they're coming from the Nips on Tinian."
This did get to me. I had no time to get into a debate so I started to shout.
"No, no," I said, "they're ours all right. Please stop."
Then to my utter amazement the voice on the other end of the line said, "What size are they?"
"What size?" I bellowed. "Circumcise, that's what size!" Then I hung up.
I wonder what he expected me to do, go out and catch one?
- Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."
Al Perry recalled the same incident; he remembered that the men knew where the shells were coming from because they could watch them coming against the night sky. "Some were bleeding to death," he says, "and begging for help by calling out to their mothers." All the men could do was hug the ground and "put your fingers in your ears to stop the screaming and begging of men who are dying all around you." Perry would later remember this as the one of the worst episodes of the war.
For now, though, the 24th was secure. 1/24 had a command change in the early morning, as regimental XO Lt. Colonel Brunelli ceded his position to the commander of 3/24, Lt. Colonel Otto Lessing. Brunelli returned to Regiment; command of 3/24 reverted to Lt. Col. Vandegrift, who had been evacuated four days previous due to wounds.
With the failure of the artillery barrage, rocket teams plastered the area, and 1/23 assaulted and took Hill 721 and Fourth of July Hill against scattered rifle and machine gun fire, much unlike the situation of the night before. Hill 767 proved a tougher nut to crack, but after a concerted effort, the hill was taken.
The 24th and 25th Marines advanced in pace with the 23rd; the 25th ran into difficulty near the slopes of Hill 767, losing two tanks to an unidentified source, but managing to link up with the 23rd Marines by nightfall. 3/24, assisted by tanks, cleaned out several machine gun positions on the right flank, while 2/24 spent what Major Carl Hoffman calls "an enjoyable day sniping at retreating Japanese soldiers on the coastal flats below." By the end of July 4, the line of the 4th MarDiv combined with the 27th Division stretched from one end of the island to the other. The
tired 2nd MarDiv, thus closed out of the line, went into a welcome period of respite in reserve.
The day was also marked by the first evacuation of a company commander that the battalion had suffered in combat. Capt. Parks, having fought off the illness for days, finally succumbed to dengue fever and was carried away to recuperate. With his evacuation I fell heir to the task of directing and leading "C" Company.
- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire."
The Japanese were retreating on all fronts. From the tip of Hill 767, one might have been able to see the far northern coast of the island. But a Japanese withdrawl was not always what it seemed, and Lt. Colonel Justice Chambers of the 25th Marines noted a grim statistic.
...by d+19, out of 28 officers and 690 enlisted men in his rifle companies and the start of the campaign, he now had only 6 officers and 315 men left in those companies. Counting his headquarters company, he had just 468 men remaining of the battalion's original strength of 1,050, so one rifle company simply had to be disbanded. The grim toll was repeated in another battalion which had had 22 out of 29 officers and 490 enlisted men either killed or wounded in action.
- Captain John C. Chapin, Breaching the Marianas: The Battle For Saipan.
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