More Replacements

Able Company received a second group of replacements on February 28, 1945. These men were from the 30th Replacement Draft.

Private Roy L. Hendricks (521)
Private James D. J. Herman (521)
Private Emilio Vincent Merola (521)
Private William P. Monahan (521)
Private James H. Stevens (521)
Private James B. Stewart (521)
Private Claud T. Swann (521)
Private Charles L. Tackett (521)
Private Wayne D. Thomas (521)
Private William Thomas, Jr. (521)
Private Joseph Tommasiello (521)
Private Lawrence A. Trapp (521)
Private Paul Travis (521)


[Private Tommasiello might have been the "Bones" assigned to Al Perry's squad. Marines were assigned service numbers according to how they enlisted - numbers between 100000 - 600000 were for "regular volunteers," with the 500000 block reserved for those that enlisted at age 17. Tommassiello - born July 12, 1926, in Providence - carried service number 565029. Of the recorded replacements, he is the only one to have been wounded. Privates Merola and Travis were young volunteers as well; the remainder were in the 900000 range - "inductees" - meaning drafted.]

I wish I could describe this place to you...

Rest Camp in the Pacific
February 27, 1944

Dear girls,

Just a short one before it gets dark again. And this will have to go slow freight, as the Regimental Post Office is sold out of Air Mail stamps – 20,000 of them, and all the ones of other denominations, too. The boys are really pouring out the letters to home – which is great – I approve of all the family affection involved, except that it keeps me from writing my family. I have to censor the damn things. It’s an hour or two out of each day, and we don’t have much spare time before dark. As soon as twilight falls, though, the movies go on – they are incredibly old and bad, but no matter – there are women in them. Reminds me of Tris’s war diary – every other entry ended with “to the movies with Phil.”

We had our first liberty yesterday. It wasn’t very long – 7 in the morning to 10 at night, but it certainly felt good to get away from the routine – even if only for a little time. We went to the biggest town here, which can at least boast of two small but clean hotels. Four of us took a room, for the sole purpose of taking our first hot shower since we left the States – and it was worth every penny of it. We found a wonderful little drinking spot – summery tables around an open sunny patio – warm, dripping with tropical flowers. If only there’d been some pretty native girls there to further brighten the scene. But as usual, we arrived here after other service outfits, and now when the Marines start for town, the local fathers lock up their daughters and drive their female goats up into the hills.

Bought some presents for you, but we can’t send anything out of here yet.

I wish I could describe this place to you – there is a lot to tell – the scenery here is fabulous – breathtaking in its beauty – strange and exotic plants and people, but censorship rules may be relaxed soon.

Of course we drank like fish in the few drinking hours that we had, and as a result I don’t feel exactly in top form today. We went roller-skating, and I performed much more brilliantly than I ever did sober. It wasn’t our first beer binge since leaving the States, though – the day that we secured the island, some of the boys located Jap beer and Sake, I only had comparatively little, but I was terribly tired, had only had a half a canteen of water and one D-ration chocolate bar in 36 hours, and soon was very quickly and quietly looped. Helped clean up the last few snipers with a bun on – a funny story for the grandchildren, and historically quite correct – the victors drunk on their spoils, and pillaging if there had been anything left to pillage. Except that I didn’t feel like any part of the grand stream of history. My feelings were all intensely personal, as I remember.

Life here is not bad at all – they call it a rest camp, and strangely enough they almost mean it. We didn’t do anything the first week except get squared away, and now we have a light training schedule – with the emphasis on athletics and recreation. Our tents are pretty comfortably set up, and our Officer’s Wine Mess just went into operation. We have a good bit of time to ourselves, to write or read or walk around the place, or to censor mail, damn it. The climate is very comfortable, except for a lot of rain, but we’re almost at the end of the season, they say.

Mother, I should have thought of this sooner, but would you save the various clippings on the action? I’d like to see them some day. More pictures, of yourselves, anything. The ones I have are so well thumbed you can hardly see them.

Love,
Phil

D + 7 through D + 9

February 26 through 28th, 1945

Able Company spent three days in reserve, resting and recovering from the worst week any of them had ever spent.

They all had something on their mind. Friends had been wounded and killed; they themselves had narrowly missed death only by chance. A decent nights sleep was impossible. Hot meals were impossible. To relax and let one's guard down was impossible. And on top of it all, the enemy mortar shells kept falling.

Every day became more and more hard to bear.... Our C.O. kept all of the dog tags and he didn’t let us see how many he had. Probably wasn’t good for morale. The Japs had a big rocket that they launched every day. It was loaded with scrap iron, chain, nails and even old horseshoes. If it made a hit near your company, it would take many of the men out with the most barbaric wounds. Legs cut off, men cut in two, sometimes the person hit just disappeared into thin air and we couldn’t even find the pieces. Sometimes the rocket would take a turn and fly out into the ocean and a couple of times I saw it turn back toward the Jap lines. We would all cheer when this happened. We called the missile “washing machine charley.” The Japs 320mm spigot mortar was the most demoralizing. It weighed approximately 400 pounds and looked like a big trash can as it flew over. It was accurate and used very effectively by the Japs.

It made a little whisper just before it hit. The wounds were always killing and very few survived a near miss.

- Al Perry, personal recollection

Nobody wanted to think about what was coming, though the amount of fire coming from the front they had just passed off to the 23rd Marines left little to the imagination.

Able Company took a few more casualties, gained a few more replacements, and grimly waited for the next trip up to the line.

Able Company Casualties, February 26 - 28

Killed
(February 28) Private William W. Knicely. Manassas, GA.

Wounded
(February 26) 2nd Lt. Thomas Drake. Platoon leader. (not evacuated)
(February 26) PFC Richard J. Hammill. Automatic Rifleman.
(February 26) Private Roland J. Hulslander. Machine gunner.
(February 27) Corporal John A. Cuthbertson. Machine gunner.

Total: 5

Returned From Hospital
Corporal Ronald Bartels. Mortarman.
Corporal Virgil McNutt. Demolitions Corporal.

D + 6

February 25, 1945

First Battalion, 24th, now augmented by a pitiful few reinforcements, jumped out of their foxholes at 0930, bent on trying to reach the O-2 line - an impossible 1,600 yards away. Instead, they found themselves brought up short by "all types of enemy fire." Major William Stewart, Able Company's commanding officer, was stricken by a rifle bullet shortly after the advance began, and command passed to the senior officer - First Lieutenant Roy Wood, the last survivor of the original officer cadre that had left Camp Pendleton just over a year before.

Able, Baker, and Charlie companies were stopped cold in their tracks every time they tried to advance. Intense rifle, machine gun, and mortar fire, augmented by artillery, caused catastrophic casualties. The situation was made all the more maddening by the fact that noone could see the Japanese. "The fire appeared to be coming from high ground about 100 yards to our front. However, some Japs were close enough to throw volleys of hand grenades," said the official report.

The three companies were withdrawn at 1800, and replaced by Second Battalion. The shattered First Battalion spent a welcome night in reserve.

Able Company Casualties, February 25, 1945

Killed
Major William K. Stewart. South Carolina. Company CO. Bullet wounds.
Corporal Leon J. Abrams. Rifle Squad Leader
Corporal James Walter Freeman. Age 20. Fairview, NC. Rifle Squad Leader. Shell fragment, chest.
Corporal Eugene L. Morris. Age 23. New Orleans, LA. Rifle Squad Leader.
Private Matthew Garner. Cordele, GA. Machine gunner.

Wounded
Sergeant John W. Donahue, Jr.
Sergeant Lewis E. Gregory. Rifle Squad Leader.
Sergeant Maynard S. Worthington. Rifle Squad Leader.
Corporal Glenn Edgar Doster. Machine gun squad leader.
Corporal Douglas B. Footit. Rifle Squad Leader
Corporal James A. Lemma. Machine gunner.
Corporal Roger W. Trimble. Automatic rifleman.
PFC William Becker. Automatic rifleman.
PFC Earl R. Crom. Machine gunner.
PFC William J. Fox. Automatic rifleman.
PFC Henry Clayton "HC" Kelley. Rifleman.
PFC John W. Mahaffey, Jr. Rifleman
PFC Floyd E. North, Jr. Rifleman.
PFC Odis Taylor. Automatic Rifleman
PFC John A. Trotte. Automatic rifleman.
Assistant Cook William P. Greco
Private Roy J. Taylor. Rifleman

Total: 22

Returned From Hospital
Sergeant Fred Eugene Thomas

Replacements

The high command had anticipated casualties on Iwo Jima to be heavy - but not THIS heavy. A seemingly unending stream of dead and wounded were being brought back to the beach for treatment at battalion aid stations, the worst cases then being loaded onto nearby landing craft making constant shuttling runs out to the hospital ships lying offshore.

To offset these losses, the generals had authorized a series of replacement drafts. Fresh Marines who had been rushed through basic training and sent overseas as soon - and sometimes sooner - than practicable had been loosely attached to the assault forces as what one historian has called a "down-payment" against the inevitable bloodletting. These men had been on the beach for several days, assisting with various menial tasks - digging positions for artillery, filling sandbags, and unloading supplies - but this was the first time any had been close to a combat situation. When the word was passed along that the companies on the line were nearly too depleted to continue - those not killed or wounded were uniformly suffering from exhaustion, both physical and mental - the replacements were parcelled out to the units needing them most.

They were woefully unprepared for combat of any sort, let alone the unprecedented brutality of Iwo. Many had completed basic training in the United States only weeks before, had only fired their weapons on the range once, and had little idea how to comport themselves under fire. The battalion's official report noted that "Basic training in weapons, self-preservation, and squad tactics were negligible." It went on to note that the majority of the men assigned either bore the SSN 521 - Basic - and had no idea how to care properly for the weapons they were given, particularly the troublesome BAR. Others had specialized in areas that were not conducive to manning the line. Finally, due to the nature of combat on Iwo, the replacements would be sent directly into the front lines, with no assimilation period with their new unit. Under fire, among strangers, and untrained for the mental shock and physical realities of combat, many replacements simply became easy targets for the Japanese. Many were wounded or killed before their new squad leaders and comrades ever learned their names.

Al Perry, by now a squad leader, wrote of one replacement whose name he never knew. The kid was only 17, and his tall and skinny frame had earned him the nickname "Bones" in civilian life. Though Corporal Perry was only nineteen, to Bones he was a salty veteran. The younger replacement latched onto his leader and followed him like a shadow. Perry, a former company scout, was asked one day to reconnoiter ahead and feel out the enemy position; Bones immediately asked to go along and was allowed. Before long, they made contact - a Japanese rifle spat and suddenly Bones was bleeding. He opened his mouth to yell, and Perry could see that the bullet had passed through both his cheeks and nearly severed his tongue. Quickly, the corporal stuffed a bandage into the younger marine's mouth; Bones started choking and blood poured from his nose. Rightly worried that Bones would choke, Perry slung him over his shoulder and raced back to the company. Bones was carried away on a stretcher, never to return. Luckily, Perry was able to learn a few days later that Bones had survived, and had even had his tongue reattached - in fact, he had snuck out of his hospital bunk and was found seated on the head, engrossed in a comic book.

On February 24, 1945, Able Company received its first group of new men, taken from the 24th Replacement Draft. The problem of assimilating specialists was very evident with this group - with the exception of Private Lukac, who was a machine gunner, the remainder had trained as anti-tank gunners (MOS 610) and not as front-line riflemen.

Private Charles W. Alexander, Jr.
Private William C. Degen
Private David R. Gardner
Private Raleigh C. Gibson
Private William J. Leiss
Private George W. Lindstrom
Private John Lukac
Private Bernard A. Mausser
Private Robert E. Miller
Private Herman Leroy Mooney
Private Irven M. Morgan
Private Earl E. Nichols
Private Harold J. Oberheide
Private Delbert A. Oelson
Private Robert Elmer Opheim
Private Ardell W. Oster
Private Harry R. Parsons, Jr.

D + 5

February 24, 1945

The sad fact about the battle for Iwo Jima was that it was going to remain every bit as difficult a slugfest as it had been on the first four days.... There would be no magic bullets, no smooth ploys, no sudden collapse.If victory was to be attained on Iwo, it would be cumulative (which is to say attritional) and extremely expensive - more expensive by far than any other real-estrate transfer in the Pacific War.

- Eric Hammel, Iwo Jima

Motoyama Airfield No. 2 exploded at 0800, as concentrated naval and land-based gunfire, followed by bomb- and rocket-toting planes plastered the areas that had given the Marines so much grief the day before. Expected tank support was stymied by mines and hidden anti-tank guns, and the 21st Marines were forced to move out without their armor. They forced their way across the airfield, and assaulted the neighboring heights at bayonet point. Three times they attacked, and three times they were driven back by accurate and deadly artillery. Weapons became clogged with mud and ash, and much of the fighting was done with grenades, knives, entrenching tools, stones, whatever came to hand that could be used to maim or kill. Marines took emplacements only to be hit by enfilading fire and pushed back - and then they would attack again. By the end of the day, though, the Marines had overrun the center of the airfield, and were tied in more than halfway across the open expanse.

The 24th Marines were to attack in a pivoting motion, in order to bring the left flank in line with the advancing Fifth Division and their own right flank. Able and Baker started forward at 1030 and immediately ran into point-blank fire from small arms and grenades. Mortars and artillery had no noticeable effect, and as the regimental AAR stated, "Our casualties continued to increase while our advances were nil."

A single stroke of good fortune befell the beleagured battalion on Febraury 24; the night was the quietest yet experienced. Some hand grenades were thrown at supporting LVTAs, some Japanese were discovered wandering the lines and were killed, but nothing compared to the previous nights. Able Company relaxed, slightly, and took stock of the wide-eyed replacements who appeared, nervous and blinking, on the front lines.

Able Company Casualties, February 24, 1945

Killed
PFC Johnny Brown Haynes. Age 20. Rifleman.
Private Harold Gene Brunson. Age 18. Decatur, IL. Automatic Rifleman.
Private Charles F. Powell, Jr. Jeffersonville, VT. Automatic Rifleman.

Wounded
Platoon Sergeant Sink Sizemore, Jr. (not evacuated)
Sergeant Edward L. Stewart. Rifle Squad Leader.
Corporal Charles M. Fischer. Rifle Squad Leader.
Corporal Robert A. Gamboa. Rifle Squad Leader.
Corporal Ronald R. Palmer. Mortar Squad Leader.
Corporal William A. Peck. Machine Gun Squad Leader.
Corporal Leonard Yush. Rifleman.
PFC Robert L. Brown, Sr. Machine gunner.
Private Fred T. Rasberry. Rifleman.

Total: 12

Returned From Hospital
PFC John Cabale. Mortarman
PFC Henry D. Schoenfelder. Mortarman

D + 4

February 23, 1945

No Marine ground unit had reached the O-1 line yet, but the VAC D+4 objective was the O-2 line, well beyond Airfield No. 2. This might have been a ploy to keep the troops pumped up, but iut was a weak ploy. The troops were quite capable of seeing that two vital factors were working against them. If it was possible, the Japanese defenders were on better ground and far denser than they had been to this point. The front-line Marines were beyond tired, and their nerves were jagged. Moreover, the high rate of casualties, especially among senior officers and trusted troop leaders, was nearing an unsustainable level. Many, many good men had given their all for the crappy gains to date - well short of every pessimistic projection.

But at 0730... every Marine who was asked and still could resumed the northward grind.

- Eric Hammel, Iwo Jima

Everything the Marines had encountered up to this point paled in comparison to the defenses they would now face. They were about to hit the outer perimeter of General Kuribayashi's most intricately prepared fortifications - which were manned by the crack troops of the veteran 145th Infantry Regiment. The terrain facing the Marines resembled a shallow U-shape - the flanks were anchored on higher ground, while the flat terrain afforded little cover for advancing Americans. It could be swept at any time by hidden antitank guns, rifles, machine guns, and the ever-present artillery. Finally, mines and booby traps littered the ground, waiting for an unsuspecting Marine to take a wrong step or pick up a tempting souvenir.

They jumped off as they were ordered, and ran straight into a maelstrom of flying lead and explosions. The 21st Marines had arguably the worst time of it, attacking over the open flat ground towards Airfield No. 2. They gained only a few yards, and a few managed to organize an attack across one of the runways, but met with such terrible slaughter that they were forced to perform that uniquely Marine maneuver - an "advance to the rear." Gains in yards were next to nothing; the cost in lives was horrifying.

First Battalion reverted to the control of its parent combat team at 0600. They attempted a local advance - without support on the flanks, they could not go far, and the other assault battalions were taking a pasting - with C Company in the lead. They began to encounter small anti-personnel mines made of terracotta, armed with plastic fuses, which did not set off the metal detectors. As the engineers laboriously cleared paths for the advance, First Battalion weathered significant small-arms fire and some light mortars, but fortunately escaped much of the artillery that focused on the assault battalions. They also managed to capture a pair of 90mm mortars, one of which was still functional. By the end of the day, they had managed about 300 yards on the right flank, but with the hold up along the left - near the airfield - the attack petered out, and the 24th began digging in for the night at 1500.

C Company, having been roughly handled while at the front, was pulled off the lines, and Able Company was sent to replace them, relinquishing their position as the division's right flank to Fox Company of the 25th Marines.

As night fell, Able Company dug in, again preparing for a counterattack that did not materialize. Many of the veterans earnestly wished for a nice big banzai - one evening of pure adrenalized terror would be an acceptable price to pay if it broke the Japanese defenses - but again, the Japanese contented themselves with small raiding parties armed with rifles and hand grenades. These harrassed the lines enough to make sure the Marines stayed awake, anxious fingers on their triggers, and fraying their badly tested nerves still further.

Able's casualties were again comparatively light - if such a concept can be quantified - but the death of one of their men left a lasting impression on those who saw it.

"We moved back another 40 yards and set down, took our jackets off to get a little sun. Setting next to me was John Corcoran from Boston. John had been with us through the other three battles and was a great guy. As John and I are sitting there leaning against a big boulder I saw a friendly shell moving like a loose football come bouncing right at us. It was so fast there was no way we could move. The shell hit John in the stomach and glanced off and kept going. I turned to John and asked him if he was all right. He didn’t answer. There was a little red mark on his stomach. I got some stretcher-bearers to help get him down to the doctors who had an operating tent just below us. We took him into the tent and laid him down. A doctor came over and checked him out and told us to take him outside, he was dead. I couldn’t believe it."

- Al Perry, personal recollection.

Able Company Casualties, February 23, 1945

Killed
Corporal John Martin Corcoran. Age 21. West Roxbury, MA. BAR gunner.

Wounded
Sergeant Fred Eugene Thomas
Corporal William J. Imm. Mortar gunner.
PFC James L. Moore. Rifleman.
Assistant Cook James McAdams
Assistant Cook Willard Roberts
Private Clifford R. Burnette. Rifleman.

Total: 7

Returned From Hospital
Private Allen B. Duncan. Rifleman.

D + 3

February 22, 1945

Combat efficiency of both divisions now suffered seriously from heavy casualties, and the Japanese defense showed little indication of weakening. Most assault battalions that came ashore on D-Day had been in the front lines for three days and nights of grueling, nerve shattering action. Troops of those units had little chance to rest or sleep, and their diet consisted solely of K rations and water, occasionally supplemented by unheated C rations. On this morning, a cold, drizzling rain did little to improve morale.

- Iwo Jima: Amphibious Epic

The rain did more than shorten tempers and lengthen physical discomfort for the Marines. As the day wore on, the rain grew heavier. Iwo's ash, already difficult to negotiate, became a sloppy, abrasive morass that clung to boondockers and utilities. Visibility dropped - first ruling out air support, then even rendering tanks useless as the men on the ground could see no more than a few yards in any direction. The Japanese, who knew every inch of the island, were perfectly content to send their shells and bullets whistling away into the fog; even firing blind, they could be fairly confident of scoring hits.

And score they did. On average, any given Marine company on the line was about 1,200 yards from its D-Day objective - the O-1 line. They faced the hellish task of attacking extremely well-constructed and interlocking defenses - like those they had taken in previous days - but, dishearteningly, most of the objectives were now uphill. Not only were the defenses almost impossible to locate, but they commanded excellent fields of view, weather nonwithstanding. Elements of the 21st and 26th Marines flung themselves gamely at the Japanese, but were cut to ribbons - the farthest advance in any sector was only 450 yards, at an astronomical cost.

Able Company spent another day continuing the mop-up of the Beach Blue-2 area. The demolitions teams were active, and throughout the daylight hours they attacked and destroyed pillbox after pillbox, cave after cave. The "corkscrew and blowtorch" technique that they had first employed on Saipan proved its worth once again - an assault team would lay down a heavy base of fire, keeping defenders pinned down while a flamethrower team worked its way within range. The gunfire would cease, and the flamethrower would leap forward, spraying a jet of napalm into the nearest opening. The defenders would be immolated immediately, or would begin to choke as the flames sucked the air out of their hiding place. Finally, a demolitions man would race for the enemy position and hurl in a satchel charge or block of TNT, blasting the entrance closed forever. This was a laborious, tiring, and nerve-wracking process, but in the end proved to be the only effective method of sealing off the caves.

Throughout the day, Able Company faced small arms from the emplacements they were sealing, as well as scattered shellfire. Their casualties were light, but still they suffered.

One of the casualties of the day was Second Lieutenant Steven Henry Opalenik. Opalenik was one of the rare "mustangs," and had been awarded the Silver Star for venturing beyond American lines to rescue wounded men on Saipan. He had received his commission immediately after the Tinian campaign, and was on the muster rolls as a member of the Headquarters Company. Somehow, he found himself commanding Able's weapons platoon. The former skipper of the company, "Buck" Schechter, remembered Opalenik in an interview:

He was the strongest man I've ever seen - he had been a wrestling champion somewhere. But he wasn't strong enough to stop a shrapnel sliver from going into his brain.

That's the way it was. It really depended on the exact spot where you were located. There were so many shells coming in that if you were going to survive, you just had to be lucky, that's all.

- Irving Schechter, 1982 interview. Quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac"

[Steve Opalenik's body was returned to his hometown of South Hadley, Massachussetts, after the war. He is buried in Notre Dame Cemetery.]

Opalenik before the War, date and location unknown.

Able Company Casualties, February 22, 1945

Killed:
2nd Lt. Steve Opalenik. Age 28. South Hadley, MA. Weapons Platoon leader.
PFC Andrew Loban. Age 19. Chicago, IL. Automatic Rifleman.

Wounded:
Corporal Henry F. Denson, Jr. Rifle squad / fire team leader.
Corporal Virgil M. McNutt. Demolitions Corporal

Total: 4

Returned From Hospital:
First Lieutenant Marshal Salvaggio. Rifle platoon leader.

D + 2

February 21, 1945

The Marines passed another sleepless night. They were still expecting a banzai, and any movement in the darkness brought a salvo of flares, frantic calls for artillery, and quick bursts of machine gun fire. The air was cold, but because of the volcanic nature of the ground, some of the foxholes were too hot to occupy. Vents in the ground let loose jets of sulfuric steam, and the stench of gas combined with decomposing bodies permeated the atmosphere. A cold drizzle fell, adding to the torment of constant enemy artillery and mortar fire that fell on the front lines and on the rear echelons alike. A 100-man counterattack on the 4th Division was repulsed, and groups of infiltrators flung hand grenades at Able and Baker companies.

At 0740, the Navy and the 14th Marines started blasting targets - or suspected targets - close in front of the foxholes. 33 howitzers, 68 carrier planes, two cruisers and a full dozen destroyers opened up in hellish chorus. Able, having finished clearing out their sector the day before, had been moved to the front line, and would be continuing the advance along the shore near Iwo's East Boat Basin. After 30 minutes of preparation, the artillery let up and the Marines jumped off - only to run immediately into the same cleverly hidden emplacements spitting machine gun and rifle fire. The heavy casualties they had taken in the two previous days had been over relatively smooth ground. Ahead, the ground was a broken, tangled mess of rock outcroppings and torn trees.

Able Company was augmented by a platoon of engineers, and pushed forward as far as they could. They located and helped the engineers disarm and remove 35 large mines from the beach along East Boat Basin; the bunker busting teams eliminated pillboxes and cave positions.

Alva Perry's squad was very active on the beach. Perry's commendation for February 21 gives a good example of the daily activities of front line Marine infantry.

By the end of the day, First Battalion had pushed the Japanese in front of them to the high ground overlooking the Quarry, a gain of about 100 yards.

ABLE COMPANY CASUALTIES, February 21, 1945

WOUNDED:
PFC Joe Preston Locke (Automatic Rifleman)

D + 1

February 20, 1945

One of the reasons for these casualties was the Japanese commander, Lieutenant General Kuribayashi. I think he knew his cause was hopeless from the beginning, but he also knew the natural defenses on Iwo were extremely formidable. He had over twenty thousand men under his command, plenty of artillery, mortars, and strong firepower. His troops had several months to prepare for the attack and they had pre-registered every inch of that rock. I guess Kuribayashi figured that of his men could make the taking of Iwo bloody beyond belief, the Allies would think twice before invading Japan. This might give Japan a way out of the war without unconditional surrender. Who knows?

There is one thing that is definite, though. I don't think it could have been possible to defend the island with any more tenacity than was shown by the Japanese.

- Irving Schechter, 1982 interview, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac"

The First Battalion, 24th Marines awoke on February 20 to find themselves in the most inhospitable environment many of them would ever encounter. Through the night they had braced themselves for the Japanese counterattack that experience had taught them to expect, but which never materialized - part of Kuribayashi's strategy of attrition - and they had already lost eleven of their comrades. The mortar section - who had already forfeited their senior veteran NCO, Wilbur Plitt, to disease - had seen five of their comrades shot down, and one rifle squad was mourning the loss of Sergeant Horan, another veteran leader.

The island itself was unwelcoming, both naturally and artificially:

"General Kuribayashi had concentrated the majority of his forces and installations in the central and northern part of the island, and had used every conceivable means to make his defenses in this sector impregnable. The entire area was a weird looking mass of cliffs, ravines, gorges, crevices, and ledges. Jumbled rock, torn stubble of small trees, jagged ridges, and chasms all sprawled about completely without pattern, and within this macabre setting the Japanese were deeply entrenched in hundreds of excellently constructed positions. From blockhouses, bunkers, pillboxes, caves, and camouflaged tanks, enemy guns jutted defiantly. Every possible approach to the north was contested by weapons with well-integrated fields of fire.

"The enemy had so deftly prepared this area that it had been impossible to neutralize or destroy an appreciable number of positions before troops landed. Masterful camouflage had prevented American ships and planes from detecting many of these positions, and of those that were spotted, as often as not a direct hit failed to put them out of business. Complete accomplishment devolved upon ground Marines. "

- from The USMC Historical Monograph, Iwo Jima.

Each company of the battalion had a different job on D+1. Charlie Company was back in battalion reserve, where they ducked artillery rounds and thanked their lucky stars that they were in battalion reserve. Baker Company grit their teeth and moved forward against the ridge of the Quarry; after heavy casualties, they took the objective only to be hit by friendly aircraft, losing five killed and six wounded. Later, they would be struck by friendly naval gunfire and mortars, suffering still more casualties.

Able Company was assigned to the task of mopping up the landing area in the wake of Baker Company's advance. This was a difficult task; the Japanese were dug into elaborately camouflaged positions and were prepared to sell themselves dearly.

We tried to move out as the sun came up but we were stopped in our tracks by sniper fire. These Jap snipers were the best shots I had ever seen. They hardly ever missed. They always hit the marine in the head or neck and the ones I saw hit died instantly.

One of the Jap mortar shells landed about 20 yards to our rear and instead of exploding it started to emit green smoke that was blowing in our direction. Someone yelled gas and nearly everyone in the company got out of their holes and started to run for the beach where we all had dropped our gas masks. Many of these guys became targets for the snipers and a number of them died. It was not gas just a bad shell.

- Al Perry, personal recollection. The Fighting Fourth

In this one day of simply cleaning out bypassed positions, Able Company was gradually picked apart. In the words of the battalion report - "their casualties were heavy having received five killed early in the mopping up process."


ABLE COMPANY CASUALTIES, February 20, 1945

KILLED
Cpl William Paul Loutzenhiser. Salem, OH. Age 22. Fire Team Leader
Cpl Bartholomew R. J. Wanagaitis. Scranton, PA. Age 26. Mortar Squad Leader.
PFC John Joseph Cummings. Brooklyn, NY. Age 19. Rifleman
PFC Charles Thomas Etty. Pine Castle, FL. Age 21. Automatic Rifleman
PFC Harn Luke Mandemaker Mar Vista, CA. Driver
PFC Herman T. Middleton. Calvert, TX. Automatic Rifleman
PFC Kenneth Byron Olson. Benson, MN. Age 18. Rifleman
Pvt Norman Richard Bell. Brooklyn, NY. Age 19. Automatic Rifleman
Pvt Ervin D. Rothe. Baltimore, MD. Automatic Rifleman

WOUNDED
1st Lt. Marshall Salvaggio (Rifle platoon leader)
Sgt. Joseph Henry Wendte (Rifle Squad Leader. Not evacuated.)
Cpl. Hugh H. Bosworth (Mortar squad leader)
Cpl. Ernest M. Jeffrey (Automatic Rifleman)
Cpl. James H. Pritchett (Machine Gun squad leader)
Assistant Cook James H. Adams
PFC Alfred D. Dennis, Jr. (Automatic Rifleman)
PFC Otto E. Buchle, Jr. (Mortarman)
PFC Paul K. Steele (Automatic Rifleman)
PFC Randolph A. Tyre (Rifleman)
PFC Howard L. Webber, Sr. (Automatic Rifleman)
Pvt. George H. Calcutt (Machine Gunner)
Pvt. Allen B. Duncan (Rifleman)
Pvt. Edward P. Rezendes (Mortar Gunner)


TOTAL: 23

Iwo Jima - D-Day

February 19, 1945

The USS Hendry gradually slid to a halt in the cold Pacific waters off Iwo Jima.


official US Navy photo, 1945

Aboard, the First Battalion of the 24th Marines reviewed their plan for moving from the ship to the shore, and how to proceed to the first objective. Able Company breathed a little easier - if only just - upon learning that they would not only be in Battalion reserve [Baker and Charlie companies were to land abreast, Able following behind], but that the entire regiment would be in division reserve. Hopefully, they thought, most of the hard work of establishing a beachhead would be done by the time they arrived.

This would be Able Company's fourth combat landing in slightly more than a year. Of the 223 men present for duty, less than 70 had made the first attack on Namur; a handful more had seen their first fighting on Saipan and Tinian. Baker and Charlie companies had taken similar losses in the past - perhaps half of the Marines were new to combat.

At 0640, the sky fell in on Iwo Jima as the gunners of the US Navy began their final pre-landing bombardment. They had been dogged by bad weather for the last three days, but today the skies cleared, the breeze was slight, and the visibility was unlimited. The Navy turned to and plastered the island with fire from destroyers up to battleships, raising dust, smoke, and flame on Suribachi, the airfields, and the landing beaches.

The transports and LSTs were also bustling with activity as amphibious tractors and landing craft were lowered into the water and filled with Marines. At 0745, the red-and-yellow striped signal flag dropped, and eight battalions of Marines embarked on 482 amtracs were chugging towards the beach.

Before long, it was clear even to those men anxiously waiting in reserve that things were not going quite as planned. After a quiet first hour, the landing beaches suddenly erupted with explosions as pre-registered Japanese artillery of every imaginable caliber let loose on the crowds of Americans. The fine volcanic ash that blanketed the beaches caused untold trouble - tanks and jeeps mired up to their axles, landing craft became hung up and broached in the surf, Marines sank in up to their ankles and couldn't run, and two-thirds of every shovelful they scooped out to make a foxhole slithered right back into place. Marines who held still were torn apart by shells and rockets; those who moved ran into rifle and machine gun fire from hidden emplacements. They had no choice but to attack and try to clear out some of the defenders, and slowly managed to push forward.

On the right flank, the Fourth Division was also pressing towards their objectives. The 3rd Battalion, 25th Marines had drawn the unenviable position of the extreme right flank of the invasion, an assignment that led General Cates to remark, "If I knew the name of the man on the extreme right of the right-hand squad I'd recommend him for a medal before we go in." This dubious distinction would go to I Company, 25th Marines.

3/25 landed on Beach Blue 2, and began to swing to the right, advancing on one of the prominent features of Iwo Jima - the Rock Quarry.


Map from the Marines In WW2 Commemorative Series.



Beach Blue 2, as seen during the pre-invasion bombardment. The higher ground to the right is the Rock Quarry.


Another view of Beach Blue 2.
[photographs from: http://www.history.navy.mil/photos/events/wwii-pac/iwojima/iwo-3w3.htm]



Lieutenant Colonel Justice Chambers, leading 3/25, reported that his troops ran into trouble almost as soon as they'd landed.

"Crossing that second terrace the fire from automatic weapons was coming from all over. You could've held up a cigarette and lit it on the stuff going by. I knew immediately we were in for one hell of a time."


Messages flashed back and forth along the communications network:

1036: (From 25th Marines) "Catching all hell from the quarry. Heavy mortar and machine gun fire!'

1039: (From 23d Marines) "Taking heavy casualties and can't move for the moment. Mortars killing us."

1042: (From 27th Marines) "All units pinned down by artillery and mortars. Casualties heavy. Need tank support fast to move anywhere."

1046: (From 28th Marines) "Taking heavy fire and forward movement stopped. Machine gun and artillery fire heaviest ever seen."

Chambers' Third Battalion was torn apart by the Japanese defenders. The high ground near the quarry overlooked their landing beach, and until 3/25 could knock out the caves and pillboxes, any reinforcements coming in on the Blue beaches would be hit as soon as they left their landing craft.

We stood on the rail of our ship and watched as the landing craft in the first waves went ashore. At first it looked as if the Japs were not going to open fire, but they waited and after the guys were landed they opened up. About 11:00 A.M. We saw Higgins boats coming out to some of the ships with wounded. It begins to look bad. One of the new guys turned to me and said, “What do you think, how long will it take to secure the island?” I lied, I said I thought we could take it in about one week.

- Al Perry, personal recollection: The Fighting Fourth.

At 1448, the First Battalion, 24th Marines, were ordered to report to the Blue Beach command vessel. It took twenty minutes to get into position, and another forty to embark the 893 men of the battalion in their landing craft. They boated to the line of departure, where they learned they'd be attached to the 25th Marines on the right flank. First Battalion jumped off from the line of departure; it took their lumbering landing craft twelve minutes to negotiate the swells and incoming fire. There was none of the singing or exuberance that had characterized the Namur landings. This time, the Marines knew what they were getting into - or thought they did.

We went down the cargo nets into the landing craft. I had all I could do to keep from falling backwards off the cargo net. I had more than 60 Lbs. of equipment on my back. After we go into the boat and started in I realized what a beautiful day it was. The sky and the water were blue the sun was out it was balmy. We were going in to kill some Japs we thought.

- Al Perry, personal recollection:
[all following quotations from Al Perry are from his website: The Fighting Fourth.]

There was chaos on the beach.


Beach Blue on the afternoon of February 19
[this and other images from http://ww2db.com/]


"USS LCT-1030 and USS LST-731 beached at Beach Blue Two"

The battalion landed haphazardly; wreckage on the beach and incoming fire drove landing craft astray, and Able Company missed their landing zone. They ran onto the beach, then slowed to a high-stepping jog as they sank up to their ankles in the ash. The new men must have viewed the entire scene with horror, and even the veterans were shaken by what they saw. The battle for the Quarry was still raging over to their right, and a constant stream of dead and wounded were being carried back to the beach where battalion surgeons set up their hospitals in shell craters.

When we hit the beach the front of our boat did not go fully down and I jumped to shore and suddenly fell a sharp pain in my back and left leg—two crushed disks—I found out years later. I had to continue on, my buddies were depending on me and nothing was going to stop me. The first things I noticed were the steep terraces of volcanic ash. As we tried to run up them our feet dug down deep and we had no traction. We would take three steps and go back one. We finally got to the top of the terraces and all I could see was dead marines. These were violent deaths, men who had their bodies cut in half, men with no legs and arms.

The Japs had all of us in their sights. They had the island laid out in quadrants. They could call down devastating fire on any of us at all times. It was like walking through a violent rain storm without getting hit by a drop. The Japs were all below the ground and we were all above the ground.

- Al Perry, personal recollection

Third Battalion, 25th Marines lost 22 officers and over 500 men before night fell, and was no longer able to hold the front line. A call came down for reinforcements from the reserve battalion; the battalion commander Major Paul Treitel sent for Able Company, but due to the missed landing zone, could not locate them in time. Baker Company was collected and sent to relieve King company along the high ground. Able, when located, was instructed to relieve Item company on the farthest right of the line along the beach.

As it began to turn dark, we were told that our company had to go forward to support another company that had been nearly wiped out. As we started up, I got separated from my company, everything was in total chaos, there was dead and wounded everywhere, and I had to be careful where I walked. I started calling out to company “A” but nobody answered. I kept going forward and finally saw a captain that I recognized and ask him had he seen company A. He told me to keep going forward and I would run into them. I found them and it was pitch dark. The Japs started throwing their big 320mm mortars at us. Never in my life have I seen such huge explosions. That explained the horrible wounds we were taking. The first night was a night in hell. Utter chaos, men screaming for corpsmen, some calling for their mothers, wounded and dead all over the place and we were waiting for the Japs to counterattack and it never came.

- Al Perry, personal recollection

The relief was completed under cover of darkness, and by 2330 Able Company had taken up its first defensive position on Iwo Jima.

Behind them, on the beach, lay the wreckage of an invasion force that had suffered 501 killed, 1,755 wounded, 47 dead of wounds, 18 missing, and 99 combat fatigue cases to take a small beachhead on a tiny island.

We were dug in just off the beach as night fell. Things were noisy in the distance as we could hear the big 320mm, 365 lb. mortars exploding. Then about 4:00 am.the Japs shifted the mortar and artillery fire to our location. This went on for about an hour and stopped. We had suffered some casualties but nothing as severely as the troops who had landed earlier. The marines and the navy’s big guns answered the Japs with tremendous fire.

As I looked around the beach area from my position all I could see were dead marines everywhere and not a dead Jap to be seen.

- Al Perry, personal recollection.

(Able Company's casualties seem to point to a disaster occurring to a single mortar team. Five of the eight battle casualties are mortarmen; with one distinct candidate for a squad leader - four-campaign veteran Ronald Bartels - two gunners (McClanahan and Schoenfelder) and two of three ammunition carriers (Pratt and Ward). It seems likely that this would be one team that was hit by a Japanese shell, though without further research this is just speculation.)

ABLE COMPANY CASUALTIES, February 19

KILLED:
Sergeant Edward John Horan. Shenandoah, PA. Age 31. Rifle squad leader.
Private Howard Ralph Pratt. Sylvania, OH. Age 19. Mortarman.
Private Oakley Brice Randoph. Hialeah, FL. Age 27. Automatic Rifleman.


WOUNDED:
PFC Ronald Bartels (Mortarman)
PFC Robert Glogowski (Automatic Rifleman)
PFC Richard McClanahan (Mortarman)
PFC Henry Schoenfelder, Jr. (Mortarman)
Pvt Charles Ward (Mortarman)

SICK:
Platoon Sergeant Wilbur Plitt (Mortar Section Leader)
PFC John Cabale (Mortarman)

Total: 11

February, 1945 - Muster Roll

The following men formed Able Company, 24th Marines the day they landed on Iwo Jima.

Of the original complement of 196, less than 70 remained. Many had been previously wounded and returned to duty. Some others had transferred to other units within the 24th Marines - most to headquarters duty after returning from the hospital. Their long-time Skipper, Irving Schechter, had been promoted to Major and was serving as the battalion Operations and Training officer (Bn-3). Of the 70, most had been promoted at least once. Longtime senior NCO Walter Russell had become that rarest of things, a "mustang" or enlisted Marine promoted to officer status. Former riflemen James McAdams and Willard Roberts now served as cooks. David Spohn, who had carried ammunition for the machine guns, had recovered from his wound on Saipan and now carried the title "Rifleman" - whether this was because of his injury, or a typographical error is unclear.

The MOS system, which has been unclear at best in the 1944 rolls, takes on an additional level of complexity in 1945. For example: MOS 600, which appears to apply to most of the NCOs from the machine gun platoon, and the apparent swap of MOS 737 for the previous 653 to denote a squad leader. Also, the notation of "Basic," "Duty Marine," or "Duty NCO" appears to mean that an individual was in the process of being re-trained or re-evaluated for a new specialty, not a brand-new Marine - hence why very senior NCOs like Lewis Gregory, Luther Diehl, and John Donohue hold this MOS. As such, this roster should not be taken as gospel, but rather as a basic guide.

Total Strength: 223
Original Members of Company: 68

COMPANY HEADQUARTERS

Major William Stewart (CO)
1st Lieutenant Roy Wood (Executive Officer)
1st Sergeant Howard Burton
Gunnery Sergeant Joe Driskell
Technical Sergeant John Gibson (824 - Mess Sergeant)
Staff Sergeant Henry Hufnagle
Staff Sergeant Norman Mayfield (824 - Mess Sergeant)
Sergeant Edgar Collins (765 - Visual Signalman)
Sergeant William Davis (Clerk)
Sergeant Luther Diehl (Duty NCO)
Sergeant Lewis Gregory (Duty NCO)
FM1c Harold Fritz
FM1c George Wolf
Asst. Cook William Greco
Asst. Cook James McAdams
Asst. Cook Willard Roberts
Corporal Russell Sanderlin (345 - Driver)
PFC James Howard (522 - Duty Marine)
PFC John Kirnan (522 - Duty Marine)
PFC Harn Mandemaker (345 - Driver)
PFC Michael Ward (Messenger)
Pvt William Knicely (022 - Barber)
Pvt Norman Lamphere (765 - Visual Signalman)

Sergeant John Donahue (521 - Basic)
Corporal Robert Price (521 - Basic)
PFC Edward Bookwalter (521 - Basic)
PFC Donald Kardok (521 - Basic)
PFC George Marion (521 - Basic)
PFC Leonard Ohlrich (521 - Basic)
PFC Anthony Santagto (521 - Basic)
PFC Herman Schwabl (521 - Basic)

MORTAR SECTION

Platoon Sergeant Wilbur Plitt

Sergeant Dalton Chriswell
Corporal Hugh Bosworth
Corporal Frank Gosiewski
Corporal Edward Lykins
Corporal Ronald Palmer

Corporal William Imm
Corporal Bartholomew Wanagaitis
PFC Ronald Bartels
PFC Otto Buchle
PFC John Cabale
PFC George Couch
PFC Orville Franklin
PFC Claude Godwin
PFC Richard McClanahan
PFC Leo Ksiekievicz
PFC Raymond Proulx
PFC Wallace Reeves
PFC Maurice Rosenthal
PFC Howard Pratt
PFC Henry Schoenfelder
PFC Jack Sides
PFC Harold Stephens
PFC Charles Ward
Pvt James Cavender
Pvt Edward Rezendes
Pvt Ernest Rollings

RIFLE PLATOONS

1st Lt. Marshall Salvaggio (Platoon Leader)
2nd Lt. Walter Russell (Platoon Leader)
2nd Lt. William Springman (Platoon Leader)

Platoon Sergeant Dallas Colburn
Platoon Sergeant Oscar Hanson
Platoon Sergeant Leo Mann
Platoon Sergeant Charles Rogers
Platoon Sergeant Sink Sizemore
Platoon Sergeant Kermit Shaw

Squad and Fire Team Leaders
Sergeant Kenneth Gann
Sergeant Kenneth Gray
Sergeant Donald Hart
Sergeant Edward Horan
Sergeant Edward Stewart
Sergeant Fred Thomas
Sergeant Joseph Wendte
Sergeant Maynard Worthington
Corporal Leon Abrams
Corporal Lee Anderson
Corporal Lionel Bolduc
Corporal Kenneth Boylan
Corporal Joseph Chvatal
Corporal Henry Denson
Corporal John Donnelly
Corporal Charles Fischer
Corporal Douglas Footit
Corporal Robert Gamboa
Corporal Cecil Hendershot
Corporal Robert Larson
Corporal William Loutzenhiser
Corporal Marion Lyon
Corporal James Marmion
Corporal Eugene Morris
Corporal Alva Perry
Corporal James Redding
Corporal William Rewerts
Corporal Peteus Staeyert
Corporal George Svoboda

Corporal Virgil McNutt (Demolitions Corporal)
Corporal Laurent Palardy (Demolitions Corporal)
Corporal Leon Roquet (Demolitions Corporal)

Riflemen
Corporal David Spohn
Corporal Robert Walter
Corporal Leonard Yush
PFC John Cummings
PFC James Fields
PFC Leonard Forthaus
PFC Joseph Fortin
PFC Joseph Gilles
PFC Franklin Gillett
PFC Stanley Giza
PFC Johnny Haynes
PFC Early Jordan
PFC Henry Kelley
PFC John Mahaffey
PFC Edwin Metzger
PFC Floyd North
PFC Kenneth Olson
PFC James Moore
PFC Robert Santerre
PFC Paul Scanlon
PFC George Secor
PFC Randolph Tyre
Pvt Clifford Burnette
Pvt Allen Duncan
Pvt Russell Johnstone
Pvt Roy Taylor
Pvt John Tierney
Pvt Calvin Tiller

Automatic Riflemen (BAR)
Corporal James Adams
Corporal John Corcoran
Corporal James Freeman
Corporal James Jackson
Corporal Ernest Jeffrey
Corporal Tommy Lynchard
Corporal Glenn Marshall
Corporal Robert Mason
Corporal Roger Trimble
Corporal Robert Walton
Corporal Kenneth Wilson
PFC William Becker
PFC Norman Bell
PFC Alfred Dennis
PFC William Fox
PFC Robert Glogowski
PFC Wilford Goode
PFC Arthur Goshorn
PFC Richard Hammill
PFC Ernest Henderson
PFC Junior Jones
PFC Andrew Loban
PFC Joe Locke
PFC Hubert Mauney
PFC Lonnie Musgrove
PFC Patrick Organ
PFC Richard Rogers
PFC Ervin Rothe
PFC Edward Solak
PFC Paul Steele
PFC Odis Taylor
PFC John Trotte
PFC Howard Webber
PFC Charles Etty
PFC Herman Middleton
Pvt Howard Brunson
Pvt Manuel Gomez
Pvt Charles Powell
Pvt Ralph Prater
Pvt Steve Previs
Pvt Ernest Rallo
Pvt Oakley Randolph
Pvt Alfred Ranieri
Pvt Fred Rasberry
Pvt Robert Rast
Pvt Condon Raxter
Pvt William Stansberry
Pvt Frank Skobel


MACHINE GUN PLATOON
2nd Lt. Thomas Drake (Platoon Leader)
Corporal Dominick Piccolomini (Ammunition NCO)

Sergeant Paul Wakefield (MOS 600)
Sergeant Clifford Devoy (MOS 600)
Sergeant Thomas Hurley (MOS 600)
Corporal Glenn Doster (MOS 600)
Corporal Edward DuBeck (MOS 600)
Corporal Printis Parsons (MOS 600)
Corporal William Peck (MOS 600)
Corporal Peter Pecori (MOS 600)
Corporal Joseph Peterpaul (MOS 600)
Corporal James Pritchett (MOS 600)

Corporal Peter Colombo (Gun Crew)
Corporal John Cuthbertson (Gun Crew)
Corporal Wallace Duncan (Gun Crew)
Corporal James Lemma (Gun Crew)
PFC Peter Cabrelli (Gun Crew)
PFC Walter Campbell (Gun Crew)
PFC Earl Crom (Gun Crew)
PFC Benjamin Cromwell (Gun Crew)
PFC Clarence Foster (Gun Crew)
PFC Daniel Girdano (Gun Crew)
PFC Edward Greayer (Gun Crew)
PFC Ralph Hatley (Gun Crew)
PFC Robert Hurdle (Gun Crew)
PFC Thomas Jones (Gun Crew)
PFC John McCarthy (Gun Crew)
PFC William F. Marcus (Gun Crew)
PFC Clifford Merchant (Gun Crew)
PFC Joseph Pokorny (Gun Crew)
PFC "L. J." Thomas (Gun Crew)
PFC Herbert Von Calio (Gun Crew)
Pvt Charles Brown (Gun Crew)
Pvt Robert Brown (Gun Crew)
Pvt Weston Burns (Gun Crew)
Pvt George Calcutt (Gun Crew)
Pvt Aloysius Callahan (Gun Crew)
Pvt James Chavers (Gun Crew)
Pvt George Cornell (Gun Crew)
Pvt Matthew Garner (Gun Crew)
Pvt Joseph Gillette (Gun Crew)
Pvt John Hazelgreen (Gun Crew)
Pvt John Hicks (Gun Crew)
Pvt Charles Hooks (Gun Crew)
Pvt Roland Hulslander (Gun Crew)
Pvt Jacob Ivey (Gun Crew)
Pvt Austin Johnson (Gun Crew)
Pvt Robert Langner (Gun Crew)



ABSENT
PFC George Hall (604) - reasons unknown.
PFC Lawrence Jaster (604) - reasons unknown.

The Cleanup Of Namur

On February 11, 1944, Able Company boarded the SS Robin Wentley and prepared to sail for Maui.

Roi-Namur had been subjugated, cleared entirely of Japanese defenders. On other islands in the Kwajalein atoll, other garrisons of defenders were facing the same fate. The conquest of the Marshall Islands - of which Kwajalein is a part - was the next step in the larger scheme of "island hopping," by which American forces would gradually take strategically located airfields from the Japanese, thereby extending the range of their own aircraft and dominating the skies.

The Marines had had a busy week. After the crumbling of organized resistance, they set about the immediate business of mopping up, a process taking several days. Some Japanese were taken prisoner, others chose to die fighting from isolated holes. C.W. Hussey, of the 295th JASCO (Joint Assault Signal Company) noted that stragglers had accounted for perhaps 20 Marine casualties by February 4th.

The Marines were surprised to find several women on the island; Hussey noted that they "had no visible means of support other than their native attractiveness." They may have been conscripts in the infamous system of "comfort women," by which women from conquered territories were essentially forced into sexual slavery; this is a subject of much debate and shame to this day, and while there is no specific mention of this practice occurring on Roi-Namur, it was by no means unheard of and there would seem to be little other reason for civilians - women in particular - to be on an isolated military post.

When mop-up was completed, there was the yet more odious task of cleaning up the debris of the battle.

Namur has been touched by war and there is nothing tropical or lovely left. It looks as though someone with an imagination of his own had tried to make a Hollywood set for Journey’s End. Namur is a dry, hot, fetid version of the worst section of No Man’s Land that France ever had to offer – no living green thing, blasted tree trunks, huge gaping shell holes - disemboweled trucks, heaps of concrete and lumber that were once fortifications

- Phil Wood letter, dated February 13, 1944

Unexploded shells had to be carefully removed, discarded weapons and equipment were collected, categorized, and repaired (if American) or destroyed (if Japanese) - and many Marines could be seen toting Japanese pistols, flags, helmets, and prized swords as souvenirs. Hussey made a thorough tour of both Roi and Namur, and made the following report:

It is estimated that [Japanese] losses were between 25 and 30 to 1 as compared to ours. It is this observers belief that most of the Japanese casualties occurred before our forces landed. in covering both islands thoroughly, I do not believe you could find a spot where a circle could be drawn with a 12 foot radius that would not contain a shell hole or bomb crater.

Japanese small arms ammunition and aerial incendiary bombs were scattered all over both islands. From the thousands of beer bottles I saw in the pill-boxes and trenches I would say that the Japs were allowed some of the better things of life. Many were cultivating small vegetable gardens closely adjacent to their dugouts.

The pill-boxes and block-houses were built of reinforced steel and concrete and all interior partitions wore of the same construction. The entire shore line was studded with pill-boxes at intervals of 1 to 200 feet. Their large gun positions were all knocked out as were their radar and radio stations. Their radar equipment seemed crude.

But by far the worst duty on Roi-Namur was the disposal of the thousands of Japanese corpses. Someone high up had decided that, as the combat Marines had little fighting to do, they might as well occupy themselves with the disposal of the dead.

...bodies by the thousands – parts of bodies – so disfigured that they beggar description – horrible....

...we camped right in the middle of our own company battlefield and had to clean it up, and it was a mess, but the ocean was only a few yards away and there was a steady breeze to blow the stench away.

- Phil Wood letter, dated February 13, 1944

I saw three trenches each approximately 50 yards long, 15 feet wide, and 8 feet deep half filled with dead Japs, and two others that had been covered over with a sign "279 JAPS BURIED HERE." I saw one water filled bomb crater and counted 15 Japs and 1 pig floating in the bloody water. I saw small fragments of dead bodies being swept from the floor of 1 block-house which the Navy was making ready for headquarters site. The stench of death pervades both islands.

- C. W. Hussey, 295th JASCO

Hussey notes that the "dead disposal squads" he encountered were composed of volunteers, though the general impression I've gotten was that dealing with the bodies of the dead was abhorrent to every Marine - some of whom grumbled that if they'd known they'd be stuck with the clean-up, they wouldn't have killed so many - and everyone pitched in, if unwillingly, thinking that the sooner they got the problem dealt with, the sooner they'd be done.

I was involved in the burial of the thousands of dead Japs who had been allowed to lie in the hot sun for days. Their bodies were rotten. The purple flies covered their wounds and mouth. The flies would fly into our mouths if they were open. The smell was beyond comparison. I tried to use my gas mask but got sick in it and had to clean it out and just hold my breath as long as I could. We lost our grip on their arms and legs when we tried to toss them into the 6x6 truck and their bodies would hit the tailgate and drop to the ground. After we got the truck loaded with the bodies we had to stand on top of the bodies until we got to the hole where they were to be buried and then we had to pull them off the trucks. I was working with a corpsman and he had about 15 small bottles of peach brandy in his medicine bag. We drank this up during our work detail. By the end of the day we were feeling no pain. We jumped into the ocean to get the goop off and reduce the stench. We fell asleep on the beach at night rather than get shot by some trigger-happy marine should we try to find our way back to our company in the dark. This was my worst experience on that island, one that I will never forget.

- Alva Perry, personal recollection. The Fighting Fourth

Often, Japanese prisoners were conscripted for the worst of the mess, taking bodies of their former comrades and dumping them into shell holes, which were then filled in by bulldozers. After four days in the sun, the dead - many of them already shattered by explosives - were putrifying fast. Disgusted Marines often wound up with rotted meat on their hands and clothes, and nothing would get the foulness off except a dip in the ocean. Even that could be dangerous, as some of Able Company's mortarmen found out:

That damned sea - beautiful but deadly and treacherous - about a week ago I went swimming with three of my boys from the Mortar section - it is waist to chest deep for a hundred yards out, until the point where the waves break on the big jagged sections of the coral reef, where it drops sharply off - we had no intention of going all the way out - were twenty five yards from the danger point, when suddenly all four of us were caught in a terrific undertow and carried out. A couple of the boys were really powerful swimmers, but they were as lost as I - we were sucked out to where the enormous waves rolled in and smashed onto the reef – thrown in and sucked out for what seemed to be an eternity – way over our head most of the time – gasping for air and getting only foam and water – thrashing and twisting in an infinity of dazzling white pure clean foam, tossed about like a chip by a vast impersonal malevolent force - finally too weak to fight any longer, just trying to breathe and thinking that it was all over, what a silly way to die, of home and you, but over and over again – what a silly, pointless way to die – and finally when the ocean was through with us one enormous wave picked us up and vomited us into the shallow water, washed clean of any strength or thought or feeling - the four of us held on to each other and staggered in and collapsed on the sharp but dry coral rock - three of us passed out - it was a horrible experience, one which I will never forget.

- Phil Wood letter, dated February 13, 1944

The whole experience of cleaning up the dead was so horrific that there was an official objection in the battalion report, and in subsequent operations a rear echelon detachment was organized to handle the cleanup.

As the Seabees and naval staff started to move in and take over, the Marines had a little more free time - some, like Phil Wood, did some exploring:

Namur Island must once have been a lovely spot - it and Roi are the largest of a chain of a thousand or more islets strung on a thread of coral around a lagoon – the water is all shades – bright green, robin’s-egg blue, a deep, satisfying cobalt blue - you can walk, hip deep, from one island to another and I went to four or five and they were idyllic – soft rich brown earth, mangoes, breadfruit and coconut crowding each other for a chance at the sunshine, forming glades of shade roofed over by the vivid green leaves. The steady breeze keeps it always cool – no mosquitoes - the only sound being the hissing of the surf.

- Phil Wood letter, dated February 13

Others traded souvenirs, wrote letters, told and re-told stories of what they'd seen, or watched the Seabees repair the newly-christened Dyess Field on Roi. One airstrip was repaired and ready to receive planes by February 5, and already new anti-aircraft positions were being installed in the wrecks of Japanese fortifications. Dozens of cargo ships arrived, unloading supplies around the clock, and a few more holdout Japanese were killed. Namur was evidently home to a rather serious network of underground tunnels, which had to be explored and cleared out one by one.

Marines started to board the transports starting on February 8.

We received 100 marines from the assault forces this afternoon.... We expect about 1500 marines aboard tomorrow. They present a miserable spectacle, with a week's growth of beard, and fatigue uniforms torn and dirty.

- C. W. Hussey, 295th JASCO

Finally, at 1300 on February 11, Roi-Namur was officially turned over to the Navy. The 4500 man garrison under a Captain Gwen was composed mainly of Seabees, base personnel, and a small Marine guard detachment.

The Japanese struck back early in the morning of February 12.

[We] were lucky enough to have left the island before it was bombed by Jap planes – we watched that from the lagoon – it reminded me of the Fourth of July – that time we were on the Boston boat and watched the fireworks along the sound.

- Phil Wood letter, dated February 13, 1944

Well, Tojo reaped his revenge upon us this morning. Quoted below is the Navy Intelligence Officer's report of the air raid:"0200--By radio from Island Base Commander of Roi Island. TG alerted for approaching enemy aircraft bearing 245 degrees, distance 51 miles; succeeding bearings and distances 295 degrees--45 miles; 285 degrees--45 miles; 325 degrees--45 miles. Number and types undetermined

0209--Condition Red assumed--all hands called to G.Q.
0215--Smoke pots on ships and small boats set off
. 0220-- four search lights on Roi Island searching skies
. 0229--AA firing on Roi Island and from 3 ships in the lagoon.
0240-_Several large bombs were dropped on Roi Island and direct hits made on the fuel and munitions stores piled on the southern beach, setting off tremendous fires and explosions from the munitions and rolling flames and smoke from the fuel. Immediately after the first bomb struck a stick of about 8 small bombs were observed bursting in succession north of the southern beach of Roi. All AA fire ceased and searchlights went out when first bombs hit.
0420--smoke pots secured by order of Island Base Commander.
0440--All clear.
0600--Ships of TG sent boats and medical officers and corpsmen and medical supplies to Roi and to SS TYPHOON--that ship having been designated to receive all casualties from Roi.
0900--Fires on Roi Island still burning.

_ _ _ _ _ _

At about 0240 a bomb struck the water about 1000 yards off our starboard quarter. We were well Covered by our smoke screen at this time, as were most of the ships in the lagoon; however, some ship abeam of us in the vicinity of the MARYLAND and the BALTIMORE opened up with AA fire. Fires started on the beach simultaneously, with direct hits made in our oil and ammunition dumps. As the oil drums exploded it sounded like heavy gunfire, and the tracers from the ammunition dumps looked like a mammoth 4th of July celebration. I counted 8 different fires at one time.

At 0600 the Commodore ordered me to Yokohama Pier on Camouflage to dispatch the casualties in LCV'S to the SS TYPHOON. I dispatched 23 boats with a total number of 252 wounded to the TYPHOON BY 0930. Better than 65 percent of these men had head injuries, and 5 died enroute to the TYPHOON. After combing both islands and seeing that the stream of wounded was reduced to a mere trickle of walking cases I moved back out to the TYPHOON. We were not able to get all the wounded aboard until 1400. At about 1700 we saw the last fire extinguished on Burlesque. When I left the TYPHOON there were only 11 known dead, although we hadn't had any recent intelligence from the beach.

At 1800 we departed along with the SS ROBIN WENTLEY bound for Maui with about 3100 marines aboard the two ships.

- C. W. Hussey, 295th JASCO

[All quotes by Hussey are from this website: http://jasco295.tripod.com]

The final tally of casualties for the operation were as follows:

4th Marine Division:

190 killed, 547 wounded

Imperial Japanese Navy

[61st Guard Force, 4th Fleet Construction Unit, 24th Air Floatilla HQ, 275th, 281st, and 735th Air Units]

3,472 killed, 264 captured

someday soon...

I've always thought of this blog format as a temporary fix for the website... and today, I started in on designing the REAL Able Company website.

It's going to be several months in the making... but it IS in the making, and has been wonderfully rewarding so far.

Stay tuned. The real men are about to land on Iwo Jima, and I'm about to try and launch a website about them. Not much to brag about in context, but still....

"It was like hunting rats...."

...the Top woke me up to stand watch for a couple of hours while he slept. He never realized that it was me until the next morning – thought I was some private, though he said that he should have recognized the bony knees and elbows – flares whistling weirdly and painting all things with a ghastly whitewash – occasional bursts of Jap machine gun fire over our heads – red tracer streaks against the sky – the sigh and wash of the sea at our side, and the distinctive, sickeningly sweet odor of Japs – something they eat makes them all smell the same.

At dawn the Captain called to me, and told me that he had checked all night, by radio, and found out that there were no Marines on the beach beyond us, only Japs, so it was safe to fire the mortars. We set a time, and I crawled back to the guns, and sat there with them, cleaned my carbine in the growing light, ate a couple of squares of chocolate – the first food I’d had in 24 hours, but I wasn’t hungry – drank a little water, the first I’d had in almost a day, and smoked my first cigarette with relish, as soon as it was light enough not to show.

- Phil Wood

The 24th Marines had weathered their first night in combat. The soon-to-be-standard warning "Stand by for counterattack" had made its way down the line, and as expected, several Japanese went screaming forward in the darkness, striking in Third Battalion's sector. Company B, attached to that battalion as reinforcements in the same manner that A was to Second Battalion, repulsed the enemy as they poured into a gap between their flank with Company I.

We had been told before we went in to expect it – that no matter how hopeless the situation, the Japs would always counter-attack, to save face and all that. They did it, but it hit our left, in B Company’s sector, before dawn with wild yelling and all the accoutrements – firecrackers, samurai waving officers who shouted commands in English – B Company was pushed back by the sheer violence of the attack, and they suffered pretty heavy casualties; but their 60mm mortars saved the day – they fired at a perilously close range, but succeeded in breaking up the charge. A damned good weapon – my favorite – if I had enough of them and enough men, I think I could pretty near win this war with them alone.

- Phil Wood

Reinforcements were quickly assembled and dispatched to the scene of the action, but it was all over within 35 minutes. Not only were the Japanese repulsed, but an additional 50 yards of ground had been gained.

[The aftermath of the banzai attack against B Company.]

The jump-off time was set for 0900. The units on the left and center had the farthest distance to go - a couple hundred yards still separated them from the beach - but Able Company on the right still faced a troublesome series of defenses around Nut Lane, crowned by a stubborn pillbox that had resisted assaults the day before. They waited for tank support - delayed, ironically, by their success on the day before; it had been anticipated that the tankers would still be deployed on Roi, but the speedy conquest of that island and subsequent movement of the tanks to Namur meant that their supplies of fuel and ammunition were inconveniently far away.

The mortarmen of Able Company were finally able to put their skills to use.

We fired about a hundred rounds, poured them into the dugouts and pillboxes that had given us so much trouble the day before. We heard screams and groans from where they fell, and it was all we could do to keep from cheering – our shelling brought return rifle fire from what was left of the Japs, and a couple of snipers started peppering our positions – but they were damned poor shots, and we finally cut them out of the trees.

- Phil Wood

Finally, at 10.06, the tanks and halftracks arrived and the Marines unleashed hell upon the last remaining enemy in their sector. The commander of First Battalion, Lt. Colonel Aquilla Dyess, led the attack on foot; his red hair neatly complemented by the red bandanna he habitually wore around his neck.

...he was fearless to the point of being foolhardy, refused to take cover – even buck privates were yelling at him to get down, but he’d only wave his Tommy gun at them and say he was a lucky Irishman.

- Phil Wood

The fight was over almost before it began.

That attack broke the back of the resistance – from then on the Japs were disorganized and fleeing. When the mortars went out of action, I went up and helped a couple of my machine gun squads root them out of their dugouts. The mortars had made a slaughterhouse of the area, and then we chased the few remaining, there couldn’t have been more than 25 or 30, up the tank trap, an 8 foot trench that ran around the island just inside the beach.

We raced after them. It was like hunting rats then – they scurried and scrambled, hid among the bodies of their own dead – there were hundreds of dead, killed by the Naval bombing the day before, lying in the trench, horribly twisted and mangled – headless, bodies laid open to the backbone, small pieces of flesh splattered on the ground, and carcasses so thick that at times we had to walk on them to get by. I remember stepping over a Samurai sword, but was too tired to even pick it up. Didn’t care.

- Phil Wood

As the Marines approached the trench that Sergeant Tucker had covered the night before, the one remaining Japanese shoved the barrel of his Arisaka rifle into his mouth, kicked off one of his shoes, and pulled the trigger with his toe. He lay alongside some 38 of his comrades, many of whom had been killed by a single shot between the eyes - testament to Tucker's skill.


Finally, the end was in sight. The Japanese piled into the antitank trench and shot at the Marines with everything they had left - rifles, machine guns, pistols, and grenades. Dyess was still leading, shouting and waving his submachine gun, glorying in the fight. He jumped up on the parapet as several Marine tanks turned the flank of the trench, spraying canister rounds and machine gun fire and piling up Japanese bodies three deep in some places.

One Japanese machine gunner still had some fight left in him.

...Col. Dyess was killed halfway up by a machine gun that they had set up in ambush. Fired at me, I think, but I heard the click of the bolt and hit the deck, and the shots went over me.

- Phil Wood

Captain Schechter was reminded of a strange conversation he had had with Dyess aboard the USS DuPage.

...one day when we were aboard the transports, Colonel Dyess asked to see me in private. We went over to the fantail and he put a hand on my shoulder.

"Buck," he said, "I know you're a lawyer. I also know I'm going to be killed on this operation. I want you to help me make out my will."

"Oh come on, Colonel," I answered, "I'll be glad to help on your will. My fee will be your picking up the check when we have dinner after the war back in the States. You're not going to get killed."

"Thank you, Buck, but I just feel in my bones that I am going to get killed."

And, of course, he did.

- Irving Schechter, 1982 interview quoted in "Semper Fi, Mac" by Henry Berry.

Lt. Colonel Dyess. 1909 - 1944

And then, suddenly, it was over.

...we met the other units coming around the island from the other side – the island was secured – well in hand, I suppose you’d call it, by one or two in the afternoon. We walked back down the beach – that picture that I sent you – and assembled in the center of the island – began to find out who was killed, and I realized that my face was taut and tired, and it was from pulling my lips tight into a set expression so that the sight of those piled bodies wouldn’t show on my face.

- Phil Wood

The last resistance was overcome by 1215. The units that had not been too badly hit during the assault phase were assigned to mop up duty; Able Company was one of those.

We started to clean up – mop up the wooded area for isolated snipers, and my platoon found a couple of cases of Jap beer – we all had a bottle or two – they forced five on me, and I promptly got tight – no food and almost no water.

Helped clean up the last few snipers with a bun on – a funny story for the grandchildren, and historically quite correct – the victors drunk on their spoils, and pillaging if there had been anything left to pillage. Except that I didn’t feel like any part of the grand stream of history. My feelings were all intensely personal, as I remember.

And when the mopping up was over, and the terns were again beginning to show luminous white against the darkening sky, we returned to the spot on the beach where we had spent the night before, and fell exhausted on the ground. Never have I been so weary – so drained of feeling.

- Phil Wood

They began to find out which of their friends were alive, and which had fallen. Phil Wood's "Agony Quartette" had been demolished. "Big Harry" Reynolds had taken a bullet in the leg. Ted Johnson, the Executive Officer of C Company, had also been hit in the leg, but far more seriously. He died aboard a hospital ship and was buried at sea. 1st Lt. Howard "Frank" Shattuck had also been wounded and evacuated.

As Phil Wood would later note, their casualties had been "comparatively light." Yet they were still dear friends wounded and killed. Each man accepted the loss in his own way, for the young lieutenant, "they were simply facts to be noted, not to feel."

That evening, the sky was graced by the most beautiful sunset that any who saw it could remember. The entire sky was painted gold. Even Corporal Ervin, freshly bandaged aboard the USS Solace, was impressed by the natural requiem for Able Company's baptism of fire.

KILLED:
PFC Stephen Peter Hopkins. Washington, DC. Age 18. Died of "cranial avulsions" aboard USS Calvert. Buried at sea.
PFC Cecil Graham Lewis. Bumpus Mills, TN. Age 23. Died of bullet wounds to the chest, reportedly caused by sniper fire. (Lewis succeeded Bill Quinn's squad when the former was wounded).
PFC Paul Glen Southerland. Lawton, OK. Age 22.

WOUNDED:
1st Lt. Harry Dare Reynolds, Jr.
Corporal Arthur B. Ervin, Jr.
PFC John C. Card
PFC Raymond E. Davis
PFC Edward John Horan
PFC William J. Quinn
PFC Leon H. Roquet
PFC Dalton J. Young
Private David C. Henderson
Private Lawrence Elmer Knight
Private Philip Valley

We slept, although it wasn’t sleep that we needed – just a chance to stretch out in the sun, alone, and do and think of nothing at all.

- Phil Wood

Members of Able Company after Namur, displaying some of their trophies. Amedeo Izzo is standing at far right.

For some excellent pictures of the islands as they appear today, see Nowhereatoll. Of particular note is the large blockhouse at Nadine Point, which was one of the obstacles tackled by Able Company - either Ervin's blockhouse, or the one taken on February 2.


Map showing the progress of the campaign, from the USMC Historical Monograph.