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H-HOUR, D-DAY
The infantry-laden amtracs began coming ashore at 0902, a few minutes behind the first wave of amtanks. Drivers raced their engines to push the heavy machines up the beach. Right away, tractors began bogging down in Iwo’s grainy volcanic sand. Some were swamped after broaching sideways in the heavy surf. Like clockwork, amtracs touched down as wave after wave deposited its load of Marines on Red-2. The landing team was organized with Charlie Company on the left and Baker Company on the right. The amtracs of each wave were combat loaded to deposit fighting platoons and support elements on the beachhead with the highest efficiency. Charlie, commanded by 1st Lt John Casey, landed and began to get organized in preparation to move up onto the plateau. In the final minutes of the run-in to the shore, amtracs carrying Baker Company Marines drifted south 200-300 yards. As Baker’s rifle platoons hit the beach and dismounted, they became intermingled with Charlie Company. Baker’s commander, Capt Benjamin Sohn, and his leaders struggled to sort out the confusion and get his men moving off the beach.
Meanwhile, men and machines continued to come ashore in accordance with the landing plan. LtCol Butler and his command element landed in the fourth wave at about 0912. With a small party of radio operators and naval gunfire spotters, he had to quickly take control of the landing team and get it moving forward. In the same wave came Able Company under the command of Capt John Hogan. Able was designated as the reserve company for the initial assault.
At this point, the primary challenge was movement in the shifting volcanic ash. Marines struggled mightily to get up the steep slopes. Prior to the invasion, Marines of 1/27 had built scaling ladders under LtCol Butler’s direction. In any event the battalion didn’t use them. Loaded down with heavy gear, lugging machine guns, mortars, and ammo, squads and platoons tried to get over the beach terraces. They had to get across the southern end of Motoyama Airfield #1.
Of those first minutes on Iwo, Pfc Chuck Tatum wrote, “A stream of machine gun bullets rips up the sand about thirty feet in front of us. Damn! These bullets are from a mortally wounded Navy TBM (torpedo bomber), the pilot dead at the controls. It crashes into an LVT about 300 yards out in the ocean. There are airplane parts coming down all over the beach and ocean. Cliff and I are lucky. None of the parts hit us. “Our forward progress is stopped by the sheer effort of trying to climb the black volcanic ash. It is nearly impossible to make progress. The second wave is coming in right behind us. It’s been drilled into us to get off the beach, get inland as quick as possible. Easier said than done. “Cliff and I look at each other as we gasp for breath. Our legs are wooden, our hearts pounding. There is a stillness that’s hard to believe. I hear the muffled exhaust of the landing craft in the third wave. They are only minutes away from the beach. When they hit, the beach will be crammed with Marines.” (1) In the first 30 minutes, over 700 Marines landed on Red-2. Three rifle companies, headquarters, and support elements were all packed together on a parcel of land 500 yards wide. Every two minutes another wave set down on the beach, adding more Marines and equipment. As yet, the Japanese hadn’t opened fire. Marine cast wary eyes up toward the dominating heights of Suribachi, wondering what the Japanese were up to. Some on that beach dared to wonder if the invasion of Iwo was going to be a cakewalk.
The Japanese soon responded to the American assault. Stunned, deaf and choked with dust, they climbed from the caves to man their guns. From positions all across the island, Iwo’s defenders began to lay down an intensive barrage against the terribly exposed Marines. A large pillbox sat astride the center of Red-2. In this position were a 47mm antitank gun and a heavy machine gun that tore through the Marines inching through the volcanic ash on the beach. Pvt Max Melville of Denver, Colo., was a BAR man in Charlie Company. Melville decided to knock out the pillbox and advanced straight ahead in the face of intense fire. Once close enough, Melville threw fragmentation and smoke grenades into the embrasure, forcing five enemy troops out into the open. Melville’s Navy Cross citation described what happened next: “With the enemy throwing grenades and firing rifles at him as they emerged from the pillbox, [Pvt] Melville coolly stood his ground and succeeded in killing all of [the enemy] before they could escape. By his initiative and aggressive fighting spirit, he silenced the Japanese emplacement, thereby preventing disorganization of his unit and heavy casualties.” Fortunately, this brave Marine lived to receive his Navy Cross.(2)
Around 0930, the first enemy mortar rounds exploded in the beachhead. A few minutes later, heavy artillery joined in to pummel the Marine postions. With forward observers in hidden caves on the flanks of Suribachi, the Japanese simply couldn’t miss. They began a systematic barrage that raked across the Marines like a lawnmower cutting summer grass. As more and more Marines arrived on shore the Japanese barrage intensified. The beaches became a pitiless spot. Caught between the cold sea and under relentless shellfire, Marines began to dig in. They tried to claw out shell scrapes with entrenching tools, helmets, rifle stocks, and hands. But the black sand refused to shelter them. For each scoop out of the hole, two would slide back in. Now the hard backbone of the Marine Corps took over. Leaders at every level exerted their will to get their Marines moving. LtCol Butler, accompanied by his radio operator, moved inland about 150 yards. He set up his command post on top of a Japanese pillbox while his Marines were still fighting to silence its defenders. Gunny John Basilone, like so many other NCOs, drove his Marines forward. Kicking prone Marines in the butt, the Gunny gave the hand signal to move out, yelling, “Get off that beach. Move out!”(3)
LtCol Butler designated a line around his command post as the landing team’s initial position. From the pillbox, the skipper had a panoramic view of Red-2. He tried to sort out the confusion as Baker and Charlie Companies got organized and pushed forward. But as squads and platoons moved up onto the plateau, a hail of Japanese small arms fire awaited them. From blockhouses, bunkers and pillboxes across the central plateau, machine guns tore into the Marines. To those on Red-2 brave enough to risk a glance in its direction, Mount Suribachi seemed to be erupting with gunfire. Everywhere, sand cascaded down and hot fragments ripped a crimson trail through flesh and bone. Soon the beaches were clogged with the dying and the dead. Blood began to seep down into the black sand. There was just no way the Japanese could miss. Gunny Basilone spotted a blockhouse on the landing team’s right flank. The machine gun in this position fired directly into the exposed 4th Marine Division’s beach Yellow-1. Pulling together a small assault team, Gunny moved to knock it out. With covering fire from Pfc Chuck Tatum’s .30 machine gun, a demolition man moved forward with a 10-pound charge. He blew a gaping hole into the thick side of the blockhouse. Once the blockhouse was breached, Gunny Basilone sent a flamethrower up. The operator launched a stream of napalm into the interior. Grabbing Pfc Tatum’s machine gun, Gunny jumped on top of the enemy position. As Japanese soldiers ran out, he cut them down, firing from the hip.
Under intense fire, the situation seemed dire to the infantry Marines with their worm’s eye view. But, they had a job to do. LtCol Butler knew he had to get his men moving. Now, the landing team executed the next stage of its D-Day mission. At about 1030, the skipper ordered Able Company to take over for Baker while that company finished reorganizing. Then, with Charlie on the left, and Able on the right, LT 1/27 began pushing toward the southern corner of Motoyama Airfield #1. Leading the way under heavy small arms fire, LtCol Butler moved out ahead of his attacking companies. He and his radioman were the first in the landing team to reach Motoyama #1. From a spot on the southern edge of the airfield, he ordered Able and Charlie to pivot right and establish an east-west line. At this point, the landing team was facing north; with its back to the punishing fire from Mount Seeing Able stalled on the airfield approaches, LtCol Butler moved back across the fire-swept area. Enemy infantry directed a heavy volume of fire against him, but the skipper somehow made it back to Able’s position. Then, he directed the company in an attack that surged forward in the face of overwhelming fire. (4) Around noon, M4 medium tanks from 3rd Platoon, Company A, 5th Tank Battalion arrived to support the landing team. The tankers had undergone their own ordeal getting into the fight, but now they were here. The Japanese directed savage fire against them. One of the tanks got trapped in an enemy minefield. Gunny Basilone spotted the exposed vehicle. Under a hail of Japanese fire, he moved forward and led the tank safely out of the minefield.
Gunny Basilone continued to lead from the front. With a team of four Marines from his machine gun platoon, he moved to set-up near the southwestern edge of the airfield. A mortar barrage landed in their midst, killing the entire group. Just like that, America’s heroic “Manila John” Basilone was dead. So were many other Marines on that February morning, yet the battle had barely started. For his actions on D-Day, GySgt John M. Basilone would receive a posthumous Navy Cross.
By mid-afternoon, Able and Charlie companies advanced west of Motoyama #1’s southern end. Tied in on the right with the 4th Marine Division, and on the left with LT 2/27, the Marines of LT 1/27 began digging in for the night. Under the operational plan, the landing team had been tasked to push forward about 2,600 yards to the O-1 line. During the course of the day, it actually advanced about a half-mile. Marines walked, crawled, clawed those 800 yards under constant machine gun, mortar and artillery fire. Through the afternoon, Baker Company mopped-up bypassed Japanese bunkers and pillboxes. Cpl George Lutchkus, of Lost Creek, Penna., was an infantry Marine in Baker. Learning of a bypassed bunker that was holding up the advance, he moved forward under heavy mortar fire. Once on-scene, Lutchkus took charge and threw two hand grenades into the embrasure. The grenades failed to silence the position.
As night fell and Marines kept digging, they waited for a Japanese banzai charge. Many hoped the Japanese would attack, because killing more of the enemy meant the battle would end sooner. All night, a steady drumbeat of artillery and mortar fire pounded the landing team’s positions. The exhausted Marines got little or no sleep. Keyed up, with adrenalin coursing, they waited and stared into the night. Just before midnight, Japanese infiltrators probed the lines. Under the harsh glare of flares, Marine artillery and naval gunfire repulsed the attack. So, the night dragged on and after an eternity of seconds, dawn broke on the eastern horizon. For all hands in LT 1/27, a new day in hell was about to begin.
Notes for cited material:
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