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Americans On Guadalcanal

Marines capture a pill box sheltering a light machine gun. Marine in right foreground wears recently introduced camouflaged battle dress; the helmet became emblematic of marines in the Pacific.

News of Kawaguchi's defeat only redoubled Japanese determination to destroy the Americans on Guadalcanal. From the Dutch East Indies, from New Guinea, from China, and even from Japan troops were fed into the pipeline to reinforce the island. Admiral Yamamoto committed the Combined Fleet to cover them.

While the Japanese were building up their forces, General Vandegrift's strength on the island remained relatively constant until September 14, when Admiral Turner sailed from Espiritu Santo in command of a convoy carrying the Seventh Marine Regiment. Boldly pushing through in the face of threatened air and submarine attacks, Turner landed his troops intact with all their weapons and equipment on the eighteenth. He returned unscathed, although the carrier Wasp, part of the task force which covered Turner's convoy, was sunk by a submarine.

During the next few weeks the Japanese continued to run in reinforcements until, on October 9, General Hyakutake himself arrived on Guadalcanal to direct the offensive. Admiral Ghormley's army commander, Major General Millard F. Harmon, feared that the Japanese would soon be strong enough to overrun the marines and capture the airfield if reinforcements continued at their present inadequate rate. Harmon urged Admiral Ghormley to send additional American troops to Guadalcanal as soon as possible. Ghormley and Admiral Turner were reluctant to commit still more troops because these might be needed for the occupation of Ndeni, an island in the Santa Cruz group about 330 miles south of Guadalcanal. The occupation of this island had been included as part of the original WATCHTOWER operation; its purpose was to secure the Allied line of communications to the Solomons and provide an intermediate air base for planes on their way from the south up to Henderson Field. The Ndeni operation had been repeatedly postponed but was still on the books. Harmon argued that the situation at Guadalcanal was so critical that any operations elsewhere would be a dangerous diversion. Ghormley refused to cancel Ndeni as Harmon urged, but he did agree to send an army regimental combat team to shore up the defenses of Guadalcanal.

On October 13, two days after the Battle of Cape Esperance, Admiral Richmond Kelly Turner led his transports safely into Guadalcanal. Three thousand men, together with all their jeeps, trucks, ammunition, and supplies, were landed by noon. Among the supplies were several hundred cases of candy bars "and by 9:00 A.M., trading was brisk on the beach. [Every marine] who could find an excuse to sneak down to Lunga hurried through the shadowy coconut groves toward this unexpected bonanza. Most were equipped with Japanese rifles, sabers, pistols, flags, helmets or officers' map cases. A Samurai sword that day went for three dozen large Hershey bars; a 'meat ball' flag - which Marines were now adept at manufacturing when supplies of originals ran low - was worth a dozen."

The troops of the 164th Infantry were mostly former National Guardsmen from the Dakotas. On the average, the new men were almost ten years older than the marines, and they may have aged considerably more during their first two nights on Guadalcanal. For on those two nights Henderson Field received its heaviest pounding. On the thirteenth, two battleships steamed into Iron Bottom Sound - the narrow stretch of water between Guadalcanal and neighboring Florida and Savo Islands - and during the night pumped over nine hundred rounds of fourteen-inch shell into the airfield, destroying or damaging half the aircraft and putting the main runway out of business for a week. "[It] was the most tremendous thing I've ever been through in all my life," recalled one Marine; "anybody who says a naval bombardment isn't worse than any artillery shelling is absolutely crazy. . . . There was one big bunker near our galley in the First Marines . . . a shell dropped right in the middle of it and practically everybody in the hole was killed. We tried to dig the men out but we saw it wasn't any use. . . ." "'It is almost beyond belief that we are still here, still alive, still waiting and still ready,'" wrote a war correspondent; " `we keep notes with shaking hands. . . . The worst experience I've ever been through in my life. . . . It goes on hour after hour. I begin trembling.'" The following two nights Japanese heavy cruisers poured in another 2,000 rounds of shell. Vandegrift signaled Ghormley: " `Urgently necessary that this force receive maximum support of air and surface units.' " 5 Ghormley in turn warned Nimitz that the Japanese had started an all-out offensive and that his forces were " `totally inadequate' " to stop them.

By this time the campaign for Guadalcanal had become a critical battle in the bureaucratic and doctrinal war between the services. Admiral King consistently demanded more support for the Solomons operations, especially additional aircraft. At the same time, King was reluctant to fully disclose the seriousness of the situation there to his colleagues in the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "Admiral King was on a hot seat," a contemporary observer recalls; "he had been pressing for Guadalcanal right along. He had been the one who said 'go in even on a shoestring,' and these repercussions would not sit well with the American people."' So ignorant were army strategists of the actual situation on "Cactus" that a few days after the initial marine landings on Guadalcanal and Tulagi they proposed to get on with preparations for Task Two in the campaign against Rabaul. Howls of protest from Ghormley and MacArthur soon put a stop to this line of thinking.

Whatever the situation in the Solomons, General Arnold and the Army Air Force brass were determined to keep a tight ceiling on the number of planes sent to the South Pacific. All their attention was focused on the projected massive aerial bombardment of Germany from England which was to demonstrate at last that airpower, if given the opportunity, could win the war. As for the South Pacific, Arnold suspected that the navy, through "subterfuge and cunning . . . is trying to run a land war relying upon the Army, Air and Marines to put it across”

Though they disagreed on some important points, both Arnold and Nimitz came away from Noumea with the conviction that a new commander was needed in the South Pacific. Ghormley seemed unsure of himself and almost crushed by the burden of work and nervous strain. "He was really completely defeatist," recalled a newspaper man who visited Noumea around this time. " `He was almost despairing." Arnold found that Ghormley had been so busy "'he had not been able to leave his headquarters office on the ship for about a month . . . no man can sit continuously in a small office fighting a war . . . without suffering mentally, physically and nervously."

On his return from the South Pacific, Admiral Nimitz called a meeting of his key staff members. All recommended that Ghormley be relieved. Nimitz reluctantly agreed. Vice Admiral William F. Halsey, who was then en route to the South Pacific on an inspection tour, was ordered to assume command of the South Pacific theater immediately.

The planned offensive Task One, an attack on the island of Tulagi in the southern Solomons, would be under the control of Admiral Nimitz. For this purpose the boundaries of Nimitz's theater would be moved one degree west so as to encompass the island objective. Task Two involved an advance along the northeast coast of New Guinea together with a simultaneous advance up the Solomons chain, while Task Three comprised the final assault on Rabaul. The latter two "tasks" would be under General MacArthur's command, but the Joint Chiefs would determine the composition of forces and the timing for each task.

By this time Halsey had become a kind of legend in the navy. News of his appointment galvanized the tired and hard-pressed men on Guadalcanal and at sea. Halsey swept through Noumea like a tornado. He bulldozed the French into giving him adequate headquarters space ashore and called a meeting of the principal commanders: Vandegrift, Harmon, and Turner. Much to Harmon's delight, he cancelled the Ndeni operation. By doing so, he "told all and sundry who came in contact with him that the major battle was 330 miles west northwest of the Santa Cruz Islands, on Guadalcanal." To Vandegrift he gave the instruction: " `Go on back. I'll promise you everything I've got.' "

At the same time, in Washington, the Joint Chiefs of Staff received a terse directive from the president: "My anxiety about the Southwest Pacific is to make sure that every possible weapon gets into that area to hold Guadalcanal." The Joint Chiefs replied that more aircraft, shipping, and an additional army division were already on their way to the South Pacific.

By mid-October, the Japanese judged that they had built up sufficient strength on Guadalcanal for an all-out offensive. General Hyakutaka planned to capture Henderson Field in a three-pronged attack from the west and south, while powerful units of the Combined Fleet stood by to polish off any American warships that attempted to interfere. After the airfield was taken, Combined Fleet carriers would fly in planes to help hold it.

The Second Division, under Lieutenant General Maruyama Masai, was to attack from the south, but it was late getting through the thick hilly jungle and into position. The offensive was postponed - and then postponed again. Word of the second postponement failed to reach Major General Sumiyoshi Tadashi: he launched his attack from the west along the Matanikau River, as originally scheduled, on October 23. Nine light tanks led an assault by a regiment of infantry - right into the muzzles of marine artillery already sighted in on their route of approach. The tanks were quickly knocked out; not a single Japanese reached the far bank of the river.

Nevertheless, Sumiyoshi's debacle served to divert American attention from the southern flank of the airfield, where the main Japanese effort was shaping up unobserved by the marines. Indeed, one marine battalion had been withdrawn from that sector the day before Sumiyoshi's attack to strengthen the line on the Matanikau. The entire 4,000-yard perimeter south of the airfield was held by a single marine unit, the First Battalion, Seventh Marines, under Lieutenant Colonel Lewis "Chesty" Puller, already a legend in Marine Corps circles. To Puller's left were the newly arrived battalions of the 164th Infantry.

The Japanese attack came in pitch darkness and pouring rain near midnight on the twenty-third. Savage fights developed all along the perimeter as the Japanese sought to break through. A few positions were overrun but quickly recaptured. As the battle developed, elements of the 164th's reserve (the Third Battalion) were fed into the line to reinforce Puller's men. By morning the marines had discovered that the 164th was good for more than candy bars. The morning light revealed more than 1,000 Japanese bodies scattered around the American emplacements. U.S. losses were less than 200.

The Japanese tried again the next night, but were beaten back. How many of their soldiers died in these two bloody nights will never be known. Estimates ran as high as 3,500. With them died also the last Japanese chance to capture Henderson Field, although this was far from clear at the time.

Admiral Tanaka attempted to land his troops in daylight on Guadalcanal. Four transports made it to a point near Tassafaronga, where they beached. Planes from the Enterprise and from Henderson Field bombed and strafed them until the decks ran with blood. Only about 2,000 Japanese soldiers and sailors got ashore. In Washington, Navy Secretary Knox called a press conference. " `We can lick them,' " a beaming Knox told reporters; "I don't qualify that. We'll defeat them.' "

Fierce fighting continued on Guadalcanal for several weeks. At the beginning of December Japanese destroyers running in supplies dealt the navy a sharp defeat in a night action called the Battle of Tassafaronga. One American cruiser was sunk and three others barely escaped destruction, all victims of the deadly Japanese torpedo. Yet Japan's hope of victory at Guadalcanal had died in the smoking hulks of Tanaka's transports. The Americans now had more than 35,000 men on Guadalcanal and close to 200 planes at Henderson Field. The outnumbered Japanese forces on the island had barely enough to eat.

On December 9 General Vandegrift turned over command of forces in the Guadalcanal and Tulagi area to Army Lieutenant General Alexander M. Patch, commander of the newly formed XIV Corps, consisting of the Second Marine Division - which had relieved the tired leathernecks of the First Marine Division - the Americal Division of the U.S. Army, and the 25th Infantry Division, which arrived at the end of December. During December Patch's soldiers and marines cleaned out Japanese positions on the high ground overlooking Henderson Field. Then, on January 10, Patch launched a major drive westward to push the Japanese off the island. With luck he hoped to crush Japanese resistance by April.

The Japanese planned differently. On December 31 the Imperial Army and Navy chiefs of staff obtained the Emperor's approval to evacuate Guadalcanal. During the first week of February, at night and in great secrecy, the Japanese evacuated almost 11,000 men. Admiral Halsey, fearing that the renewed Japanese activity presaged another offensive, deployed his forces to defend the airfield and did not interfere with the pullout. General Patch's army and marine forces pushed their way to the western end of the island on February 8 to find only empty boats and abandoned supplies. On the afternoon of February 9 Patch radioed Admiral Halsey: "Tokyo Express no longer has terminus on Guadalcanal."

The Guadalcanal campaign was "the first offensive," the beginning of the road back, the means of securing the line to Australia. Yet Guadalcanal had been a defensive victory, whereas most of the later land battles with Japan would be offensive in nature. The U.S. Navy still had much to learn about night fighting at sea and both the U.S. Air Force and Navy had yet to put into action a fighter to match the Zero, plane for plane.

Perhaps the most important results of Guadalcanal were psychological. The vaunted Japanese army, which had rolled over Malaya, Hong Kong, the Philippines, and Burma, had been stopped. The Australians at Milne Bay, the Americans at the Ilu River and Bloody Ridge, had shown that Japanese attacks were not irresistible; and in the long jungle slugging matches which Guadalcanal eventually became, it was the Japanese - not the Allies - who finally gave out.

Ronald H. Spector. : The American War with Japan. The Free Press. 1985.

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