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PART IVb. D+1 ON TARAWA
As the night of November 20-21 1943 wore on, the Second Marine Division spent the restless hours of darkness preparing for the new day. Dug in tight in their holes, the front line Marines watched and waited silently. While it would never be certain how many casualties they had taken on D-Day, most estimates later put it at 35 to 40 percent. Navy Corpsmen and doctors worked valiantly to save and evacuate wounded men. Meanwhile, the divisional support units unloaded ammunition, supplies and water. Author Richard Johnston described the night in Follow Me! The Story of the Second Marine Division in World War II:
Landing Team 1/8 had spent the long night floating in their landing craft at the lines of departure about six thousand yards offshore. Now they received the order to land on Red 2. At about 0615, the boats dropped off their human cargo at the edge of the coral reef about 500 yards from the shoreline. The Japanese opened up on the exposed Marines even before their boats reached the drop-off line. As units onshore kicked on a furious attack to the south and west, enemy machine gun fire tore through the exposed Marines wading ashore. 1stLt Dean Ladd served as a platoon leader in Company B, 1st Battalion, 8th Marines. He was one of the Marines who made this fateful trek, and lived to tell about it in Faithful Warriors: Memoirs of World War II in the Pacific:
Many of the Marines on shore could see their brothers in 1/8 being savaged in the water, and they made titanic sacrifices to stop the enemy. Into this breach stepped men such as Capt Kenneth L. Brown Bradford of New Hampshire. The commander of Battery A, 1st Battalion, 10th Marines, Brown took charge of a group of infantry Marines. His posthumous Navy Cross citation told a story of sacrificial courage:
Through this maelstrom of fire, Landing Team 1/8 came on. Somehow, the surviving Marines arrived at the beach, but their heavy equipment—flamethrowers, demolition charges, crew-served weapons—were lost in the water. Robert Sherrod witnessed the death march from the beach and counted at least two hundred bodies in the wake of this savaged unit. 1stLt Ladd's platoon alone suffered 24 casualties; 12 killed and 12 wounded. In total, Landing Team 1/8 endured 343 casualties in less than an hour; 108 dead and 235 wounded. By 0800, the skipper, Maj L. C. Hayes, Jr., reported to Col Shoup that about half of his unit was present. Shoup ordered Hayes and his Marines to take over the western sector of Red 2.
The long pier that split Red 2 and 3 was both a shelter of sorts for Marines attempting to land, and conversely a target for the Japanese defenders. Boats that could not get close to the beach due to the shallow water were able to pull up to the end of the pier for unloading of supplies. Also, as Marines struggled ashore, the pilings underneath offered a small amount of cover. 1stLt Jim Lucas, a combat correspondent attached to the Second Marine Division, wrote of his landing there early on D+1:
The situation that morning was an extension of D-Day, with Col Shoup and his staff striving to bring order to the fight. At 1140 he messaged divisional headquarters: "Situation ashore uncertain." Robert Sherrod described Shoup's activities:
Now the focus for the landing teams was to attack west and south, but they had precious little room to maneuver. Interlocked from every angle, each Japanese emplacement had to be neutralized one at a time. It was slow, costly work for the Marines who had to do the job. They derisively called this sort of combat: "High diddle diddle, straight up the middle."
Through the afternoon the situation improved as more and more enemy positions were knocked out. Even though communications were still snarled, the landing teams continued to push forward. On Red 1 Maj Mike Ryan and his troops secured Betio's western beaches. With naval gunfire support, and the help of two M4 tanks, Ryan's combined force of Marines from Landing Teams 2/2 and 3/2 reached the southern side of the island at noon. Landing Team 1/2 on Red 2, long with the remnants of Landing Team 2/1, attacked across the airstrip and taxi ways, destroying numerous enemy machine guns. By early afternoon, they had crossed the island and occupied the southern shoreline. Among the many brave men in this action was Sgt Vincent H. Wiehardt, a weapons platoon section leader in 1/2. His posthumous Navy cross citation stated:
Over on Red 3 Maj Crowe and his Marines faced the core of the Japanese defenses around their blockhouse command post. Under heavy fire all day, the Marines continued to dig in and made local attacks to neutralize enemy emplacements. Crowe epitomized the leadership of the Marine officer, as outlined in his Navy Cross citation:
Now the tide was starting to turn against the Japanese. Supplies were coming ashore and out to the fighting troops. More pack howitzers of LtCol Preston Rixey's 1st Battalion, 10th Marines made it to the beach head to support the infantry. Light tanks of Company B, 2nd Tank Battalion were ordered ashore across the north part of Green Beach on Betio's western shore. Landing Team 2/6 assaulted and secured Bairiki Island at 1655. At 1706 Col Shoup sent the following message to divisional headquarters:
Late in the afternoon, Col Merritt Edson, Divisional Chief of Staff, landed ashore to take overall command of divisional troops. This relieved Col Shoup to take the reins of Combat Team 2 for the remainder of the fighting on Betio. Historian Jon Hoffman described Edson's assumption of command in the book Once A Legend: "Red Mike" Edson of the Marine Raiders:
Col Shoup had led the Second Marine Division troops in combat during the critical phases of the battle. His leadership, tactical smarts, and drive were all critical to victory, and he was the only Marine in the battle who lived to wear his Medal of Honor. His citation stated in part:
Throughout the day the battle raged across the island as a pall of dust and smoke filled the hot, humid air. Glaring relentlessly, the sun cooked men and equipment, making weapons almost too hot to touch, and sapping men's strength. Small arms fire and explosions rocked the ground, and artillery rounds landed frequently. The battlefield, congested as it was, now began to smell and look like a charnel house. The heat caused corpses to swell and burst, creating a stench that survivors could never forget. And the waste created by so many men in close quarters added a layer of filth to the scene. And always there were the dead. As Marines came ashore, they were unavoidably greeted by the sight lifeless men floating in the water, crumpled in the shelter of the seawall, and everywhere that Marines units were fighting their way forward. Dead Japanese troops were also scattered everywhere; incinerated in bunkers and pillboxes, blown to pieces by high explosives, pierced by bullets. Against the dug-in Japanese defenders, there was no choice for the Marines but to go forward. Their relentless assaults compressed the surviving Japanese into an ever-shrinking area of real estate. There could be no doubt to the enemy troops that relief would not come, not ever. Their commanders determined to sell the island for the highest cost possible. The Marines might win the day, but they would bleed in the winning. On the evening of D+1, Landing Team 1/6 landed on Green Beach via rubber boats. Under their commander, Maj William K. Jones, the Marines of 1/6 had trained and rehearsed a landing in boats and they were known as "the condom fleet." This was the first battalion of the battle to reach the shoreline essentially intact and with their full complement of heavy weapons and specialized equipment. But even 1/6 did not escape their landing unscathed. Two LVTs laden with equipment and supplies accompanied the battalion, and one of these struck a submerged mine, killing all of its occupants but one. Jones and his Marines reached Betio's western beach at about 1830 on ground already secured by Maj Ryan and his ad hoc force. In the lines from their foxholes, Marines heard many single shots or muffled explosions as Japanese defenders took their own lives in war's ultimate futility. As dusk fell, the tradewinds cooled off the oven-like temperatures of the day. During the night, an enemy bomber made its appearance in the skies above Tarawa. "Washing Machine Charlie" as the Japanese plane was known, had made an ineffectual appearance on the night of D-Day. Now he was back to drop two sticks of bombs, one in the Marine perimeter, and the other on Japanese positions. The Marines joked, "That bastard's absolutely impartial."
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