Okinawa_ The Last Battle Of World War II Part 5

Upon its arrival, Haggard Haggard's skipper Lieutenant Commander Victor Soballe and all other hands on deck gaped in amazement and dismay at what they beheld in the anchorage. If not exactly a "graveyard of ships," it was at least a hospital emergency room stuffed with every category of floating cripple. Destroyers and all types of smaller ships-minesweepers, tenders, destroyer-escorts, LSMs, LCTs-in every stage of wreckage or disrepair were everywhere. Some had lost their masts, the smokestacks of others were either crumpled or missing, twisted guns hung over gunwales like broken teeth or were pointed uselessly upward, superstructures were caved in while in the sides of dozens of other vessels were gaping, jagged black holes-some of them covered by makeshift cofferdams looking like blisters-while missing bows were sometimes similarly protected against flooding or else had been jammed up against sagging bridges like steel accordions.

Commander Soballe's heart sank when he saw how many damaged vessels were in line for repairs ahead of his own. It could be weeks or more, and then, by the time Haggard Haggard would be ready to enter the floating dry dock, it might be discovered that she could not stand the flooding of just one more compartment and thus could not be repaired at all. So Soballe ordered his crew to turn to: to improvise and scrounge and cannibalize and invent and "borrow" (that universal service euphemism for pilferage or "pinching") whatever they needed but could not obtain by requisition. This required not only skill-fingered sailors but light-fingered ones. There were enough of the first kind among would be ready to enter the floating dry dock, it might be discovered that she could not stand the flooding of just one more compartment and thus could not be repaired at all. So Soballe ordered his crew to turn to: to improvise and scrounge and cannibalize and invent and "borrow" (that universal service euphemism for pilferage or "pinching") whatever they needed but could not obtain by requisition. This required not only skill-fingered sailors but light-fingered ones. There were enough of the first kind among Haggard Haggard's welders, electricians, steamfitters, carpenters, and the other technical "mates" needed to run a modern warship, and a superabundance of the second kind among bos'n's mates and ordinary deckhands. The light-fingered details scrounged or borrowed enough sc.r.a.ps and pieces of lumber and other materials needed to patch a hole twenty by eighteen feet where the suicider had crashed. Another hole through which seawater had flowed to flood engine and boiler rooms was plugged when Soballe and others put on diving equipment to cover it with a seven-ton temporary patch, after which the rooms were pumped out. Meanwhile, the black gang ingeniously rebuilt an after boiler from fragments of a wrecked one, using whatever sc.r.a.ps that would fit to repair steam lines to the engines. So resurrected, lighting off one boiler, the crew got their beloved ship under way, and in four months sailed her halfway around the world to the Norfolk Navy Yard.

Last Gasp of the Samurai Samurai Cho Cho

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

On April 29, Emperor Hirohito's birthday and the most important holiday in j.a.pan, Lieutenant General Mitsuru Ushijima summoned his top commanders to his headquarters in a tunnel underneath Shuri Castle. For days they had been privately arguing over Isamu Cho's proposal for a ma.s.sive counter-stroke against the Americans. Now Ushijima wished them to discuss whether or not his strategy for defending Okinawa should be changed. Some historians say Ushijima was not present, others insist that he was. It does not seem likely, however, that the Thirty-second Army commander-even though it was not his custom to attend staff discussions-would ignore such a momentous meeting called by himself.

Ushijima's chiefs sat on canvas camp chairs at a rough flat table covered with maps. Around them the stones of the tunnel glistened with sweat. Water from the moat surrounding medieval Shuri seeped through crevices in the wall or dripped incessantly on the floor of beaten earth. Dim light glinted weakly off the gla.s.ses worn by most of the officers in attendance or winked on the stars of the numerous generals present.

Isamu Cho sat close to Ushijima, staring arrogantly into the questioning gaze of his arch rival, Colonel Hiromichi Yahara. Just as he had predicted the debacle of General Cho's abortive counter-attack of April 12-13, the rigidly rational Yahara was now prepared to oppose what he knew would be a plan for an even greater and more disastrous counter-stroke. By his patrician bearing he made it clear that he could not be bullied by either the rank or the fiery rhetoric of the burly general now rising to address the meeting.

Cho began with an incredible untruth: that the j.a.panese soldier-in the main from four to six inches shorter than his American enemies and from thirty to fifty pounds lighter-was a superb hand-to-hand fighter who could easily overpower the soft, effete American devils. A general clearing of throats and grunts of approval followed this absurd remark, either born of the School of the Rosy Report or emanating from the sake sake bottles being pa.s.sed freely around. Very quickly most of the commanders present supported Cho's plan: Lieutenant General Takeo Fujioka, commander of the Sixty-second Division, and also the plan's coauthor; Lieutenant General Tatsumi Amamiya, swallowing his detestation of the boastful Fujioka in his eagerness to lead his untested Twenty-fourth Division into battle at last; and Major General Kosuke Wada, chief of the Fifth Artillery Command. Wada agreed with the others that the Thirty-second Army had made an achievement unprecedented in Pacific warfare: it had preserved its main body intact after a month of fighting. bottles being pa.s.sed freely around. Very quickly most of the commanders present supported Cho's plan: Lieutenant General Takeo Fujioka, commander of the Sixty-second Division, and also the plan's coauthor; Lieutenant General Tatsumi Amamiya, swallowing his detestation of the boastful Fujioka in his eagerness to lead his untested Twenty-fourth Division into battle at last; and Major General Kosuke Wada, chief of the Fifth Artillery Command. Wada agreed with the others that the Thirty-second Army had made an achievement unprecedented in Pacific warfare: it had preserved its main body intact after a month of fighting.

This, Yahara bluntly interjected, happened only because the Americans had not yet hurled their full strength against the Naha-Shuri-Yonabaru line. But now that the outer defenses had fallen, because of the April 12-13 fiasco, the American commander was strengthening his a.s.sault forces, according to intelligence reports. An even bigger disaster would ensue if Cho's ma.s.sive counter-offensive were approved, he warned. And to speak of the valor of the troops was foolish, because even now, since there had been no issue of sweet-potato brandy on the emperor's birthday, the men were discontented. For thirty days these gallant men had risen every morning to look down upon a Hagushi Anchorage still choked with enemy ships. The Divine Winds had not blown them away. It was difficult for even j.a.panese soldiers to believe that the Navy would come to their rescue-nor could they be blamed for complaining about being asked to fight alone one day's sail from the homeland.

It was true, Isamu Cho replied slowly, that the Americans had not thrown in all their strength. But they were doing so now. There was a new Marine division in the enemy's a.s.sault line, the First, the hated butchers of Guadalca.n.a.l. Another-the Sixth-was due to join them. This was the moment to destroy the Americans' fresh power. But, Cho continued, the Thirty-second Army had also been reinforced. Had not our chief General Ushijima in his wisdom concluded that the enemy was not interested in storming the Minatoga Beaches, and so had ordered our comrades of the Twenty-fourth Division and Forty-fourth Brigade to join us here? Now it is we we who are at full strength. Let us strike the enemy immediately and annihilate them before they can grind down to our main line. who are at full strength. Let us strike the enemy immediately and annihilate them before they can grind down to our main line.

Careful, full-scale counter-attack, not the foolish glory of the Banzai, would crush the Americans. There must be help from the kamikaze, kamikaze, then ma.s.sed artillery fire with the troops attacking all along the line. The fresh Twenty-fourth Division would be hurled at the center and open a hole through which the Forty-fourth Brigade would pour in a thrust to the west coast. The Forty-fourth would then wheel south and the First Marine Division would be isolated and annihilated. The American Twenty-fourth Corps would be rolled up. There should also be counter-landings on both flanks. The Twenty-sixth Shipping Engineer Regiment would embark from Naha in barges, small boats, and native canoes to strike the rear of the Marine division. Later, the youths of the Twenty-sixth, Twenty-eighth, and Twenty-ninth Sea Raiding Squadrons would cross the reef and wade ash.o.r.e to help the engineers. A similar counter-landing would strike the rear of the Seventh Infantry Division on the east. then ma.s.sed artillery fire with the troops attacking all along the line. The fresh Twenty-fourth Division would be hurled at the center and open a hole through which the Forty-fourth Brigade would pour in a thrust to the west coast. The Forty-fourth would then wheel south and the First Marine Division would be isolated and annihilated. The American Twenty-fourth Corps would be rolled up. There should also be counter-landings on both flanks. The Twenty-sixth Shipping Engineer Regiment would embark from Naha in barges, small boats, and native canoes to strike the rear of the Marine division. Later, the youths of the Twenty-sixth, Twenty-eighth, and Twenty-ninth Sea Raiding Squadrons would cross the reef and wade ash.o.r.e to help the engineers. A similar counter-landing would strike the rear of the Seventh Infantry Division on the east.

It would be difficult to conceive a more complicated plan of attack, and Cho's proposal calling for so many disconnected and disparate sallies-a montage of uncoordinated sorties if ever there was one-paid absolutely no heed to what the enemy's reaction might be. Moreover, it was made doubly difficult by the j.a.panese unfailing reliance on a night attack to cancel out the American superiority in artillery, even if this meant confusing their own troops. Yet, when Colonel Yahara arose to criticize the operation, he praised it as tactically excellent, probably because he was about to demolish it as a strategic monstrosity and did not want to alienate Cho entirely. Yahara said: "To take the offensive with inferior forces against absolutely superior enemy forces is reckless and will only lead to certain defeat. We must continue the current operation, calmly recognizing its final destiny-for annihilation is inevitable no matter what is done-and maintain to the bitter end the principle of a strategic holding action. If we should fail, the period of maintaining a strategic holding action, as well as the holding action for the decisive battle for the homeland, will be shortened. Moreover, our forces will inflict but small losses on the enemy, while on the other hand, scores of thousands of our troops will have been sacrificed in vain as victims of the offensive."

Yahara sat down.

It was now up to Ushijima.

He nodded to Cho.

The attack would begin at dawn on May 4. Before that, the flank counter-landings would be launched. Before them the artillery would commence, and before everything would come the kamikaze. kamikaze.

The j.a.panese aerial a.s.saults began at six o'clock on the night of May 3. Once again, the bombers sought to get at the rich pickings in the Hagushi Anchorage, but thirty-six of them were shot down and the rest forced to unload at high alt.i.tude, with little damage. Only the suicide-diving kamikaze kamikaze broke through. They sank destroyer broke through. They sank destroyer Little Little and an LSM, while damaging two mine layers and an LCS. After midnight, sixty bombers struck Tenth Army rear areas, coming in scattering window. Terrible antiaircraft fire rose in crisscrossing streams of light, as though a million narrow-beamed searchlights were aimed into the night, and the bombers dropped their loads aimlessly-though some of them landed in a Marine evacuation hospital. and an LSM, while damaging two mine layers and an LCS. After midnight, sixty bombers struck Tenth Army rear areas, coming in scattering window. Terrible antiaircraft fire rose in crisscrossing streams of light, as though a million narrow-beamed searchlights were aimed into the night, and the bombers dropped their loads aimlessly-though some of them landed in a Marine evacuation hospital.

An hour later Marine amtanks guarding Machinato Airfield on the west coast fired at voices on the beach. American cruisers, destroyers, and gunboats on "flycatcher" patrol shot at squat j.a.panese barges sliding darkly upcoast from Naha. The barges lost their way. Instead of landing far enough north to take the Marines in their rear, they veered insh.o.r.e and blundered into the outposts of B Company, First Marines.

The j.a.panese sent up a screeching and gobbling of battle cries and the surprised Marines sprang to their guns. All up and down the sea wall the battle raged, with Marine amtracks moving out to sea and coming in again to grind the j.a.ps to pieces between two fires. Some five hundred j.a.panese died in this futile west-flank landing.

The east-flank landings came to the same annihilating end. Navy patrol boats sighted the j.a.panese craft. They fired at them and turned night into day with star-sh.e.l.ls. Soldiers of the Seventh Division's Reconnaissance Troops joined the sailors to complete the destruction of four hundred men.

At dawn, the main attack began.

It went straight to the doom that Colonel Yahara had predicted. Wave after wave of the Twenty-fourth Division's men shuffled forward to death in that gray dawn, moving among their own artillery sh.e.l.ls, taking this risk in hopes of getting in on the Americans. But the soldiers of the Seventh and Seventy-seventh Divisions held firm-while American warships, sixteen battalions of division artillery, and twelve battalions of heavier corps artillery, plus 134 airplanes, smothered the enemy in a wrathful blanket of steel and explosive. Ships as big as the fourteen-inch-gunned New York New York and and Colorado Colorado, as small as gunboats with 20 mm cannons, ranged up and down the east coast firing at the j.a.panese on call.

Across the island, the kamikaze kamikaze dove again on ships in the Hagushi Anchorage, again falling on the luckless small vessels of the radar picket screen. With them were the dove again on ships in the Hagushi Anchorage, again falling on the luckless small vessels of the radar picket screen. With them were the baka baka bombs. This May 4 one of the bombs. This May 4 one of the baka baka hit the light mine-layer hit the light mine-layer Shea Shea and set it temporarily on fire. The and set it temporarily on fire. The kamikaze kamikaze also sank two more destroyers, also sank two more destroyers, Luce Luce and and Morrison, Morrison, as well as two LSMs, while damaging the carrier Sangamon, the cruiser as well as two LSMs, while damaging the carrier Sangamon, the cruiser Birmingham, Birmingham, another pair of destroyers, a minesweeper, and an LCS. Again, they failed to get at the cargo and transport ships. And they lost 95 planes. another pair of destroyers, a minesweeper, and an LCS. Again, they failed to get at the cargo and transport ships. And they lost 95 planes.

Ash.o.r.e, Isamu Cho's ma.s.sive counterthrust was being broken by that material power for which Mitsuru Ushijima had shown such profound respect. Much of the j.a.panese a.s.sault died aborning. Sometimes the j.a.panese closed, but rarely. There were seesaw battles up and down some of the ridges held by the Seventy-seventh, but they ended with the GIs either in command of their previous position or holding new ground farther inside the j.a.panese territory. One battalion of the j.a.panese Twenty-fourth Division got behind the Seventy-seventh on the left, but it was annihilated by a reserve battalion of the Seventh Division in a three-day fight. Otherwise the Twenty-fourth Division never punched that hole through which the Forty-fourth Brigade was to race and isolate the First Marine Division.

And the First began attacking on the morning of May 4. Even as the GIs on their left bore the brunt of Cho's big sally, these Marines were battling southeast toward the key bastion of Shuri. They scored gains of up to four hundred yards. The next day they attacked again, once more pushing the j.a.panese back-even though their advance was made more costly by the fact that they were up against rested battalions of the j.a.panese Sixty-second Division. By the night of May 5 the Marines had picked up another three hundred yards. By that time Lieutenant General Isamu Cho's ma.s.sive stroke had been completely shattered. Those two days of fighting had cost the j.a.panese 6,227 dead. The Seventh and Seventy-seventh Divisions had lost 714 men killed or wounded while holding the line, the First Marine Division had taken losses of 649 men in the more costly business of attack. The next day the First gained another three hundred yards, and added a fourth Medal of Honor winner to its rolls since coming into the line on May 1. That day Corporal John Fardy smothered a grenade with his life, as had Pfc. William Foster. Sergeant Elbert Kinser did it on May 4. Two days before that, Corpsman Robert Bush had risked his life to give plasma to a wounded officer, driving off a j.a.panese rush with pistol and carbine, killing six of the enemy and refusing evacuation though badly wounded.

There would be more Medals of Honor won in the days to come. The First Division by May 5 had come against Ushijima's main line, as had the GIs on their left. In front of the First was the western half of the Shuri bastion. To their right was Naha, and this would be a.s.signed to the Sixth Marine Division the next day. In the sector of both these Marine divisions were systems of interlocking fortified ridges such as those encountered on Iwo Jima. Nor would the way be made easy here by further counter-attack.

A change had taken place at Shuri Castle. In tears, Lieutenant General Ushijima had promised Colonel Yahara that from now on he would listen to no one but him. The Ushijima-Cho relationship had ended in the recrimination of a red and useless defeat. Isamu Cho argued no longer. He became silent and stoical, convinced now that only time stood between the Thirty-second Army and ultimate destruction.

Minatoga: A Missed Opportunity

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

One of the still-unexplained puzzlers of the Battle for Okinawa is why Lieutenant General Simon Bolivar Buckner allowed two veteran Marine divisions to stand idle in the north-the First for a month, the Sixth for nearly two weeks-instead of using them to relieve one or two Army infantry divisions badly battered in his three-division a.s.sault on the Naha-Shuri-Yonabaru line. The answer, unpleasant though this speculation may be, seems to be that Buckner wanted the Army infantry to have the honor of crushing the j.a.panese Thirty-second Army.

There is nothing especially biased or prejudiced in such an att.i.tude, and it is actually much more common among commanders of rival services than is generally understood. A similar decision by a Marine general occurred when Major General William Rupertus, commanding the First Marine Division at Peleliu, hesitated much too long before relieving his crippled First Regiment with a regiment from the Eighty-first Infantry Division. He did it only after ordered to do so by Major General Roy Geiger, who was commander of the Third Marine Amphibious Corps. But Buckner's reluctance was somewhat more surprising in that the First Marine Division was probably the most experienced fighting formation in the American Armed Forces; 70 percent of the Sixth-though new to battle as a unit-was composed of veterans from other divisions in other campaigns.

It was not until April 28 that Buckner decided to put fresh troops into his renewed down-island offensive. The Seventh would remain in place on the left, and the Ninety-sixth would be relieved by the Seventy-seventh. The First Marine Division would relieve the Twenty-seventh Infantry Division on the Seventy-seventh's right with the Sixth Marine Division holding the western flank. Thus the line, Seventh, Seventy-seventh, First, Sixth: Twenty-fourth Corps, Third Corps.

Almost simultaneously with this realignment there arose a dispute over a proposal made by Major General Andrew Bruce of the Seventy-seventh. Just before Cho's counter-attack, Bruce had suggested that his division envelop Ushijima's rear by storming the Minatoga Beaches below him. On Leyte, Bruce's Seventy-seventh had made a strikingly successful landing behind the j.a.panese line at Ormoc-where "the 77th rolled a pair of sevens"-and he was confident he could do the same on Okinawa. Once ash.o.r.e, his division could either move inland to take Iwa, a road and communications center on the island's southern tip, or push north to join the Seventh near Yonabaru.

Buckner gave no serious consideration to the suggestion after his supply officer, Brigadier General David Blakelock, reported that though he could supply food for the operation, Tenth Army had not enough ammunition to spare for it. On the last count, Blakelock's a.n.a.lysis was correct; for even Tenth Army's splendid service of supply had not yet been able to compensate for the loss of those two ammunition ships on April 6. Buckner was also aware that Tenth Army planners had rejected the Minatoga Beaches before L-day: the reefs were too dangerous, the beaches inadequate, and the area exposed to strong enemy counter-attack. Beach outlets also were commanded by a plateau, and Bruce's landing would be too far south to receive support from Hodge's corps in the north and was also out of range of his artillery.

These were indeed daunting considerations, although hardly more formidable than the drying reef and seawall at Tarawa or even the reefs and seawall at Hagushi. Other division chiefs besides Bruce supported his proposal, although not necessarily to be executed by his division. Major General Pedro del Valle of the First Marine Division believed a Minatoga landing was advisable, although it should be made by the more experienced Second Marine Division, still in Third Corps reserve. Major General Lemuel Shepherd of the Sixth said later he had suggested use of the Second several times to Buckner, pointing out that the logistics argument did not apply to this formation because it had enough beans and bullets of its own to sustain a thirty-day a.s.sault. A landing by the Second, he wrote later, "would have seriously threatened Ushijima's rear and required him to withdraw troops from the Shuri battle or employ his limited reserve to contain the landing."

Army historians of Okinawa in their book on the campaign were agreed that Minatoga would have produced logistical difficulties and might have failed, but only if it were attempted before the end of April. but only if it were attempted before the end of April. If made after May 5-the date that Cho's abortive counter-strike was shattered-it could not have been opposed by more than two or three thousand men. Colonel John Guerard, Tenth Army operations officer, had learned by late April of Ushijima's order for the j.a.panese Twenty-fourth Division and Forty-fourth Brigade to move north into Shuri, where they joined Cho's a.s.sault. This left Minatoga lightly defended, and Guerard, who had originally opposed a landing there, now strongly recommended it. So did General Hodge, who went to Tenth Army headquarters to urge Buckner to envelop the enemy there. But the Tenth Army commander did not agree, again basing his rejection on the logistics argument even though he now knew that the Second Marine Division could operate for a month on its own supplies. If made after May 5-the date that Cho's abortive counter-strike was shattered-it could not have been opposed by more than two or three thousand men. Colonel John Guerard, Tenth Army operations officer, had learned by late April of Ushijima's order for the j.a.panese Twenty-fourth Division and Forty-fourth Brigade to move north into Shuri, where they joined Cho's a.s.sault. This left Minatoga lightly defended, and Guerard, who had originally opposed a landing there, now strongly recommended it. So did General Hodge, who went to Tenth Army headquarters to urge Buckner to envelop the enemy there. But the Tenth Army commander did not agree, again basing his rejection on the logistics argument even though he now knew that the Second Marine Division could operate for a month on its own supplies.

Buckner's decision became highly controversial in the stateside press even before the Okinawa campaign had ended. Such influential newspapers as the Washington Star Star and the New York and the New York Herald-Tribune, Herald-Tribune, probably at the urging of Admiral King, flatly stated that the secondary landing should have been made. Some historians in defense of Buckner have suggested that if the Tenth Army commander had even suspected that the Okinawa fighting would continue through May, and then for almost another agonizing month in June, he might have preferred to risk a quick end to it by landing in Ushijima's rear. This is a specious argument, the purest conjecture apparently based upon nothing more substantial than a desire to exonerate the Tenth Army commander for having failed to take what can only be described as a gamble with little risk. All the odds after May 5 were in Buckner's favor: an inferior foe defending against his own superiority in the number and quality of his troops, as well as in supply and in control of the air above and sea surrounding Okinawa. probably at the urging of Admiral King, flatly stated that the secondary landing should have been made. Some historians in defense of Buckner have suggested that if the Tenth Army commander had even suspected that the Okinawa fighting would continue through May, and then for almost another agonizing month in June, he might have preferred to risk a quick end to it by landing in Ushijima's rear. This is a specious argument, the purest conjecture apparently based upon nothing more substantial than a desire to exonerate the Tenth Army commander for having failed to take what can only be described as a gamble with little risk. All the odds after May 5 were in Buckner's favor: an inferior foe defending against his own superiority in the number and quality of his troops, as well as in supply and in control of the air above and sea surrounding Okinawa.

Caught between four American divisions to his front, with another in reserve and a garrison division also available behind them; and in his rear a seventh veteran division; pounded from land, sea, and sky; hopelessly isolated and cut off from reinforcement or supplies, with the kikusui kikusui attacks of no help on land, Ushijima's Thirty-second Army could either be starved into submission or-if surrender was still so unthinkable to attacks of no help on land, Ushijima's Thirty-second Army could either be starved into submission or-if surrender was still so unthinkable to Samurai Samurai such as Ushijima, Cho, and Yahara-compelled to make a final "glorious" sally that would be broken in blood ending in ma.s.s suicide. such as Ushijima, Cho, and Yahara-compelled to make a final "glorious" sally that would be broken in blood ending in ma.s.s suicide.

Meanwhile, with the Minatoga opportunity rejected as un-feasible, General Buckner still had to face the growing and open disenchantment of Admirals Spruance and Turner with the slow progress of Tenth Army on land. Turner had repeatedly urged on Buckner the necessity for a quick conquest to relieve the terrible pressure of the kikusui kikusui on the concentration of American ships off Okinawa. For such a huge body of vessels to remain so long as plainly visible targets of a suicidal enemy was indeed unprecedented in military history. This, of course, was not entirely the fault of General Buckner but rather enemy policy-in a sense-to "bleed all over" the Americans and thus drown them in j.a.panese blood. Again, this was small comfort to either Spruance or Turner. Buckner's reply to the Expeditionary Force commander was that he was moving slowly in an effort to "save lives." To Admiral Spruance this was not a convincing argument, for he wrote: "I doubt if the Army's slow, methodical method of fighting really saves any lives in the long run. It merely spreads the casualties over a longer period. The longer period greatly increases the naval casualties when j.a.p air attacks on ships is a continuing factor... There are times when I get impatient for some of Holland ('Howlin' Mad') Smith's drive." on the concentration of American ships off Okinawa. For such a huge body of vessels to remain so long as plainly visible targets of a suicidal enemy was indeed unprecedented in military history. This, of course, was not entirely the fault of General Buckner but rather enemy policy-in a sense-to "bleed all over" the Americans and thus drown them in j.a.panese blood. Again, this was small comfort to either Spruance or Turner. Buckner's reply to the Expeditionary Force commander was that he was moving slowly in an effort to "save lives." To Admiral Spruance this was not a convincing argument, for he wrote: "I doubt if the Army's slow, methodical method of fighting really saves any lives in the long run. It merely spreads the casualties over a longer period. The longer period greatly increases the naval casualties when j.a.p air attacks on ships is a continuing factor... There are times when I get impatient for some of Holland ('Howlin' Mad') Smith's drive."

Spruance was right: lives are definitely not "saved" by a carefully slow a.s.sault, they are merely spread out in time, but in the end the number of casualties is the same or almost so. If an a.s.saulting unit comes to, say, an enemy .47 ant.i.tank position protected by machine guns, thus making it impossible for supporting tanks to advance, and decides to call for artillery to knock it out before attacking, in the subsequent a.s.sault it will almost certainly discover that sh.e.l.ls simply cannot pulverize strong and clever defenses. Foot soldiers will still have to go in there with hand weapons, with flamethrowers, grenades, and satchel charges, and the time lost waiting for artillery to destroy the position will have been wasted. And their casualties will be the same as if they had attacked instantly.

Even General Buckner himself on May 1 had acknowledged at a press conference that Okinawa would fall only to tactics he described as "corkscrew and blowtorch": the corkscrew being explosives and the blowtorch flamethrowers and napalm. But all of these have to be aimed! aimed! Aimed close up. Visible. They cannot be fired from a mile or more to the rear in an arc, which would be like skipping stones on water. Because every defensive position has a mouth or aperture through which its weapon can be fired, bullets, grenades, satchel charges, or flame have to be hurled, thrown, or squirted through these openings. Again, close up. Even napalm will skid, and because it is always dropped from an airplane, it has about as much chance to enter a foot-by-foot or even a two feet-by-two feet opening as has a camel "to pa.s.s through the eye of a needle." Aimed close up. Visible. They cannot be fired from a mile or more to the rear in an arc, which would be like skipping stones on water. Because every defensive position has a mouth or aperture through which its weapon can be fired, bullets, grenades, satchel charges, or flame have to be hurled, thrown, or squirted through these openings. Again, close up. Even napalm will skid, and because it is always dropped from an airplane, it has about as much chance to enter a foot-by-foot or even a two feet-by-two feet opening as has a camel "to pa.s.s through the eye of a needle."

Go ahead, ask the question, "What's the difference-slow or speedy-if the results are the same?" The answer is that the time lost will extend the exposure of a supporting fleet such as Spruance's to the a.s.saults of the kikusui kikusui, and also delay the departure of such naval forces to partic.i.p.ate in another amphibious invasion elsewhere or release the fast carriers to strike homeland j.a.pan. Finally, slow, careful land a.s.saults could delay the entire Pacific timetable to the great pleasure of the enemy, for the one thing j.a.pan could not afford to waste in the spring of 1945 was time.

Spruance and Turner could not forget what had happened to the escort carrier Liscome Bay Liscome Bay at Makin, when sixty-five hundred GIs moving slowly took a week to conquer a weak position in an operation that should have been finished in hours. Ordinarily, at Makin, when sixty-five hundred GIs moving slowly took a week to conquer a weak position in an operation that should have been finished in hours. Ordinarily, Liscome Bay Liscome Bay would have been long gone from the impact area, but the ship was sunk on the last day by an enemy submarine, with extensive loss of life. Similarly, because of slow progress on Okinawa, ships and many seamen and seagoing Marines were being lost daily on the Hagushi Anchorage. would have been long gone from the impact area, but the ship was sunk on the last day by an enemy submarine, with extensive loss of life. Similarly, because of slow progress on Okinawa, ships and many seamen and seagoing Marines were being lost daily on the Hagushi Anchorage.

The admirals were also anguished by and ever mindful of the ordeal of their men, these unsung heroes, aboard those exposed ships, especially those of the Radar Picket Line scourged by hundreds of kamikaze kamikaze and and baka. baka. Men were horribly burned. They were blown into the ocean, either to drown or pa.s.s agonizing hours awaiting rescue and the ministrations of medical corpsmen. Those who survived the suiciders' screaming dives went for days on end without sleep, their nerves exposed and quivering like wires stripped of insulation. Lying wide-eyed on their bunks, they waited to hear the dreaded telltale click and static of the ship's bullhorns being activated-like a starter's gun sending them leaping erect and running so that they were already in motion when the shrill, strident notes of "General Quarters" burst in their ears. Men were horribly burned. They were blown into the ocean, either to drown or pa.s.s agonizing hours awaiting rescue and the ministrations of medical corpsmen. Those who survived the suiciders' screaming dives went for days on end without sleep, their nerves exposed and quivering like wires stripped of insulation. Lying wide-eyed on their bunks, they waited to hear the dreaded telltale click and static of the ship's bullhorns being activated-like a starter's gun sending them leaping erect and running so that they were already in motion when the shrill, strident notes of "General Quarters" burst in their ears.

Men in the boiler rooms worked in intense heat. The superheaters, built to give the quick pressure needed for sudden highspeed maneuvering under aerial attack, were often kept running three or four days at a time, though they had been made for intermittent use. But it had to be that way, for war off Okinawa was war at a moment's notice. Very little time separated that moment when radar screens became clouded with pips of approaching "bogies" and the shrieking suiciders came plunging to the attack. An attempt to give the crews more warning of enemy approach had to be abandoned, one war correspondent reported: "The strain of waiting, the antic.i.p.ated terror, made vivid from past experience, sent some men into hysteria, insanity, breakdown."

Similar reports reaching Admiral Nimitz led him to request from MacArthur the return of most of the ships of the Seventh Fleet he had so generously loaned the Southwest Pacific chief at the start of the Leyte campaign. He wanted to relieve some of Spruance's ships. But MacArthur had already protected himself against compliance with this agreed-upon condition by deliberately committing these vessels-as well as the Eleventh Air Force and the Eighth Army-to a useless campaign in the southern Philippines in order to prevent their scheduled transfer to Nimitz. Such tactics, of course, were nothing new in World War II. During the Battle of the Bulge General George Patton deliberately committed his beloved Fourth Armored Division to an unnecessary battle to prevent its being taken from him by General Omar Bradley, who had already commandeered his Tenth Armored Division. But MacArthur's move was the soul of ingrat.i.tude for Nimitz's generosity. And it was compounded by the general's return to his old, discredited theme of "minimal losses" by comparing the ease and low casualties of his southern Philippine campaign-again against mud-and-logs and fragmented troops-to Tenth Army's higher losses moving through steel-concrete-and-coral defenses manned by soldiers determined to fight to the death. Because of this typical MacArthurian selfishness, the scourging of the Fifth Fleet continued.

In fairness to Buckner, the defensive complex into which he was plunging straight ahead could not be reduced in any other way than corkscrew and blowtorch. But the attack could have been more impetuous and spirited, less dependent on what General William Westmoreland in Vietnam a generation later excoriated as "the firebase psychosis": i.e., a tendency to stop at every obstacle and call for artillery. But it also must not be forgotten that Buckner summarily rejected the one opportunity for maneuver on Okinawa: the envelopment of Ushijima's rear by a landing at Minatoga. Why, Why, will never be known, for this able, considerate, and dedicated soldier did not live long enough to write his memoirs or at least an explanation of his position. will never be known, for this able, considerate, and dedicated soldier did not live long enough to write his memoirs or at least an explanation of his position.

But was the straight-ahead, annihilating attack the only solution to the destruction of Ushijima's remaining sixty thousand men? Tenth Army had already secured and improved all the air and port facilities on Okinawa. For the j.a.panese, there was no way out, around, under, over, or through. Did no one suggest cutting off the enemy to let him starve? Why not emulate Nimitz's "island-hopping" strategy in the Pacific, leaving enemy garrisons to "wither on the vine" by seizing the biggest and most useful islands while neutralizing those lying in between by aerial bombing. The j.a.panese could have been whittled and demoralized by constant aerial, land, and sea bombardment-even goaded into those desperation, back-breaking Banzai attacks so attractive to the Samurai Samurai character. Doubtless, they would not remain completely contained but would sally forth in typical night forays aimed at spreading terror and destruction. But this could have only minor success. It could never have inflicted casualties among the Americans comparable to what they suffered in Buckner's final straight-ahead a.s.sault. character. Doubtless, they would not remain completely contained but would sally forth in typical night forays aimed at spreading terror and destruction. But this could have only minor success. It could never have inflicted casualties among the Americans comparable to what they suffered in Buckner's final straight-ahead a.s.sault.

Nevertheless, perhaps because of the importunate appeals of Spruance and Turner-who, after all, were his superior officers -General Buckner did quickly schedule another grand offensive for May 11. The Ninety-sixth Division back on line would be on the eastern (or left) flank, the Seventy-seventh on its right; next, First Marine Division, and then the Sixth on the right, or western, flank. General Hodge would command his Twenty-fourth Corps troops on the left and would be the tactical commander of the entire front, with Geiger leading the Third Corps Marines. It was typical of Geiger, whose courtesy matched Buckner's, that he did not protest the selection of Hodge as tactical chief, even though he was his senior and about to receive his third star.

This offensive was to be a continuation of the others with the same tactics, including the capable General Bruce's innovation of concentrating on a limited objective from which fire could be brought to bear on the enemy's reverse slope. Just before the jump-off date, however, the Great Loo Choo's gray, growling, and moisture-laden sky became the Lord of the Battlefield.

May: Rain, Mud, Blood - and Breakthrough!

CHAPTER TWENTY.

On May 7 the skies of the Great Loo Choo opened with prolonged and torrential rains that reminded First Division Leathernecks of the month-long monsoon they had endured in the New Britain campaign. During seventeen days of intermittent storms, some fifteen inches of rain fell on Okinawa.

Nothing could stand against it; a letter from home in the sodden pocket of a GI or Marine had to be read and re-read and memorized before the ink ran and it fell apart in less than a week; a pair of socks lasted no longer; and a pack of cigarettes became watery and uninflammable unless smoked the same day, or else, along with matches, they were kept dry within a contraceptive inside a helmet liner. Pocketknife blades rusted together, and watches recorded the period of their own decay. Rain made garbage of the food; pencils swelled into useless pulp; fountain pens became clogged with watery ink, and their points burst apart; rifle barrels turned blue with mold and had to be slung upside down to keep the raindrops from fouling their bores. Sometimes bullets in the rifle magazines stuck together, while machine gunners had to go over their belts daily, extracting the bullets and oiling them to prevent their sticking to the cloth loops. Everything lay damp and sodden, squishy and squashy to the touch, exuding a steady and musty reek that was the odor of decaying vegetation.

To the Americans out in the open-unlike their enemies warm, dry, and snug in their underground warrens-there were only three things of value to be found in this gurgling, gushing, rushing, streaming, dripping, drenching downpour that turned Okinawa's numerous narrow and shallow streams into raging, boiling, white torrents of water: a dry place, hot and solid food, and most of all-most unbelievably important of all!-a hot cup of coffee. At sundown before blackout discipline would be in force, among squads huddling together all over the island, tiny fires were made of the wrappings of cigarette packages and the waxed covers of K rations, and water heated in a canteen cup containing grains of K ration soluble coffee-thus were their bellies fortified against another cold black rainy night.

And the rain on Okinawa made Okinawa mud. It was unique because it was everywhere: in the ears, under the nails, inside leggings, or squeezed coa.r.s.e and cold between the toes. It got into a man's weapons, it was in his food, and sometimes he could feel it grinding like emery grains between his teeth. Whatever was slotted, pierced, open, or empty received this mud. Wounds also. Men prayed not to get hit while rain fell and made mud. It embarra.s.sed drivers of bulldozers and made pick-and-shovel coolies of those lordly tank troops. Some days it denied Americans the use of roads altogether, and GIs and Marines on the attack again often had to be supplied by airdrop. Frequently it was hardly possible to walk in it. A few strides and a man's shoes were coated and heavy with mud. Two more and they seemed as though encased in lead. A third step and it was easier to slip out of them before the mud sucked them off and walk in it bare-footed. Engineers on the airfields actually put their shoes aside and worked in sacking drawn over their feet and tied around the knees.

It was this mud in which the entire Tenth Army lay immobilized on the eighth of May, the day on which smeared and dripping Marines and GIs received the splendid news that Germany had surrendered.

"So what?" they snorted in contempt.

The death of Hitler and the destruction of his Third Reich meant about as much to these embattled Americans as the pardon of one condemned criminal might mean to another still under sentence of death. General Ushijima and the stubborn soldiers of his Thirty-second Army were their only concern, and at that very moment Ushijima was taking advantage of the rain that had stalled his enemy to strengthen his flanks while his artillerists reminded their foe that the air still sang and shrieked with invisible death. Ushijima also reinforced the strongpoints guarding the vital forty-foot-wide east-west highway behind his barrier line, settling down to that grim step-for-step war of attrition urged on him by Colonel Yahara. Because of these defenses-and the incessant rain-the Tenth Army drive southward on May 9 moved even slower.

At the same time, the kikusui kikusui scourging of the invasion fleet rose to a crescendo of fury. Opposing them were those Marine Corsair pilots from Yontan and Kadena who had come to the Great Loo Choo expecting to fly close-up support of the ground Leathernecks, only to be called to the rescue of the radar picket ships. They rode the suiciders down to unintended destruction away from their target vessels, sometimes even after the American pilots had expended all their ammunition. A few of them attacked the scourging of the invasion fleet rose to a crescendo of fury. Opposing them were those Marine Corsair pilots from Yontan and Kadena who had come to the Great Loo Choo expecting to fly close-up support of the ground Leathernecks, only to be called to the rescue of the radar picket ships. They rode the suiciders down to unintended destruction away from their target vessels, sometimes even after the American pilots had expended all their ammunition. A few of them attacked the kamikaze kamikaze and and baka baka with their whirling propellers, just as Lieutenant Robert Klingman did in the bizarre Battle of the Frozen Guns. with their whirling propellers, just as Lieutenant Robert Klingman did in the bizarre Battle of the Frozen Guns.

That was the dogfight fought at over 40,000 feet among a j.a.panese two-seater Nick fighter and two Corsairs piloted by Klingman and Captain Kenneth Reusser. On combat air patrol over Ie Shima on May 10 they spotted the vapor trail of the j.a.panese at 25,000 feet. They chased him, climbing steadily from 10,000 alt.i.tude until, after a pursuit of 185 miles, firing off most of their ammunition to lighten their load, they caught up with the Nick at 38,000 feet.

They closed.

Reusser shot up all his ammunition in damaging the j.a.panese's left wing and left engine. Klingman bored in to within 50 feet and pressed his gun b.u.t.ton. His guns were frozen. He drove in, his propellers whirling. They chopped up the enemy's rudder and left it dangling. In the Nick's rear c.o.c.kpit the gunner was banging his fists on his own frozen guns. The Corsair's big propellers chewed on. Klingman turned and came back for another pa.s.s. He cut off the rudder and loosened the right stabilizer. He was running out of gas. He decided he didn't have enough to make Okinawa anyway and turned for a third pa.s.s. He cut off the Nick's stabilizer. The plane went into a spin, and at 15,000 feet it lost both wings and plunged into the East China Sea.

Klingman started down, losing his oxygen at 18,000 feet, and his power at 10,000. But he landed at Kadena Field, dead-stick and on his belly, his wings and fuselage sewn with bullet holes and pieces of the destroyed Nick in his cowling.

Nevertheless, the losses inflicted on the enemy aircraft did not dissuade Admiral Turner from asking Buckner once again to speed up his attack, and the Tenth Army chief obliged by scheduling a ma.s.sive, four-division a.s.sault for May 11.

The Tenth Army had four full divisions abreast. General Hodge's Twenty-fourth Corps was on the left (or east) with the Ninety-sixth and Seventy-seventh divisions in that order, and General Geiger's Third Corps on the right (or west) with the First and Sixth. The Ninety-sixth's objective was Conical Hill, the Seventy-seventh would buck at Shuri Castle, the First strike the Dakeshi-Wana-Wana complex guarding Shuri, and the Sixth at Sugar Loaf Hill. Of these four objectives, those facing the Marine divisions were the strongest.

Sugar Loaf opposite the Sixth was at least the formidable equal of the b.l.o.o.d.y meat grinder of Iwo Jima. It was not just one hill but a complex of three. Sugar Loaf itself did not look difficult, just an oblong ridge about fifty feet high. But it was protected to its left rear by the Half-Moon and on its right rear by the Horseshoe, a long ridge bristling with mortars. On the left where the First Division was attacking was Shuri Heights, also stuffed with gunners who could hit the Sixth on Sugar Loaf as well as the First to their front.

To attempt to get at Sugar Loaf was to be hit by the others. To strike at the others was to be hit by Sugar Loaf. But this was not suspected until the main position was reached on the morning of May 14, after a fighting crossing of the Asa River and steady grinding down of smaller hills guarding the approaches.

On that May 14 most of the morning was spent evacuating Marines stricken while crossing the flat open ground approaching that harmless-looking loaf of earth. In the afternoon a charge with supporting tanks was driven back when three of four tanks were knocked out, and artillery from Sugar's front, left-rear, and rear fell among the riflemen. A second a.s.sault before dusk reached Sugar Loaf's base. But of 150 Marines from the Second Battalion, Twenty-second, who began it, only 40 reached the hill. They were exhausted. They were out of supplies. It was getting dusk. Suddenly, the enemy stopped firing. The men realized that someone was speaking to them. It was Major Henry Courtney, the battalion's executive officer.

"If we don't take the top of this hill tonight," he was saying, "the j.a.ps will be down here to drive us away in the morning. The only way we can take it is to make a Banzai charge of our own. I'm asking for volunteers."

There was hardly a pause before the Glory Kid stepped forward, grinning.

"I hate to sound like a guy in a dime novel," said Corporal Rusty Golar, "but what the h.e.l.l did we come here for?"

There were 19 other volunteers from this exhausted remnant, and 26 fresh men who appeared carrying supplies. Major Courtney took these 45 Marines up Sugar Loaf under cover of darkness, heaving grenades as they went, digging in under the protection of their own mortars. From the Horseshoe and Half-Moon came machine-gun fire and mortar sh.e.l.ls, while grenades came up at them from the reverse slope of Sugar Loaf. At midnight, Courtney heard the enemy gathering below. He decided to strike them.

"Take all the grenades you can carry," he whispered. "When we get over the top, throw them and start digging in."

They went out, behind Courtney. They heard the major, shout, "Keep coming, there's a mess of them down there!" And then they heard the explosion of the mortar sh.e.l.l that killed him. They answered with grenades of their own, hanging on to Sugar Loaf while all of the j.a.panese positions struck at them, while a cold rain swept in from the East China Sea, until the mists of the morning showed that there were only 20 men left of the 45 who had come up the night before.

In that mist Rusty Golar, the self-styled Storybook Marine, fought the battle he had always sought. With his buddies he was on the right flank of Sugar Loaf, where he set up his light machine gun. With daylight, the j.a.panese on Horseshoe Hill to his right opened up on him. Golar fired back. The j.a.panese on Half-Moon to the left opened up. With a deep, booming "Yeah!" Golar swiveled his gun to rake Half-Moon.

Back and forth it went, the whipsawing j.a.panese fire, the booming "Yeah!" of the Glory Kid and his own alternating bursts. It went on while Sugar Loaf's defenders were gradually whittled to a handful, while men trying to bring up ammunition were killed or wounded, continuing until only Golar and a few others were left alive. By then the Glory Kid's machine-gun belts had all been fired. He drew his pistol, yelling, "Gotta use what I got left!" He emptied it twice more. He threw it at the caves below and began scurrying about the hillcrest to gather grenades from the bodies of dead Marines.

"Still need some more stuff to throw at those guys," he yelled at Private Don Kelly, one of the few men still alive on the ridge. He threw. He found a loaded BAR in the hands of another fallen Marine, seized it, jumped erect, and fired it until it jammed.

"Nothin' more to give 'em now," the Glory Kid bellowed to Kelly. "Let's get some of these wounded guys down." He bent over to pick up a stricken Marine as easily as hefting his machine gun. "I'll have you in sick bay in no time," he said in a soothing voice, and began walking toward the rear edge of Sugar Loaf. An enemy rifle cracked. Rusty Golar was staggered. He put the wounded man down carefully. Incredulity was etched on his rough, slowly whitening features. He walked to a ditch and sat down in it, pushing back his helmet like a man preparing to take a snooze-and there he died. No posthumous Medal of Honor commemorates the deeds of this valiant warrior, not even another Bronze Star. He had been brave and compa.s.sionate, the twin virtues of a born fighter, and though both went unrecognized, Rusty Golar remains a legend in the annals of his gallant corps.

Soon his comrades on Sugar Loaf were recoiling under a thundering shower of enemy mortar sh.e.l.ls. Three Sherman tanks that were to have punished the enemy's reverse slope and thus clear the way for the foot soldiers were knocked out by enemy 47 mm ant.i.tank guns, their blazing hulks incinerating the silly superst.i.tion of the "near-sighted j.a.panese." Without this support the Marines could not hold against renewed j.a.panese a.s.saults. They withdrew, leaving behind them the still bodies of about a hundred comrades, among them the burly football star George Murphy, and the forty-five selfless volunteers of the valorous Major Courtney, whose widow would receive his posthumous Medal of Honor.

Throughout that night and the following day the j.a.panese clung stubbornly to Sugar Loaf while the entire complex quivered beneath a combined air-sea-land artillery barrage preceding each American a.s.sault. But all were repulsed, until, on May 17, an end run turned the Sugar's left flank.

An almost imperceptible depression had been observed running north and south between Half-Moon Hill to the left and Sugar Loaf. It was not actually a valley, but j.a.panese fire on Marines who had wandered into it had not been heavy or accurate. General Shepherd, up on the lines now, decided to move an entire regiment-the Twenty-ninth-through this tiny c.h.i.n.k in Sugar Loaf's armor. Two battalions would go through to strike at Half-Moon Hill, holding there to support another battalion moving against the left face of Sugar Loaf, which their own a.s.sault was expected to unmask.

The battalions went forward under a fierce barrage. Half-Moon Hill was. .h.i.t. Sugar Loaf was attacked. Three times a company of Marines charged to Sugar Loaf's crest. Each time they were driven off. They surged up a fourth time and won. But they had no more ammunition. None could be brought up to them. It was heartbreaking. They had to go down, giving up the vital height taken at a cost of 160 casualties.

The next day they went up to stay.

Four days of full-scale attack, the hammering of two Marine regiments and supporting arms, had worn the complex's defense thin. Sugar Loaf was ready to fall.

Captain Howard Mabie brought his a.s.saulting company up to the edge of the low ground opposite the hill. Artillery and mortars plastered the crest while three tanks slipped around the left flank. The barrage stopped. The j.a.panese rushed from their caves below the reverse slope to occupy the crest. The tanks took them under fire, surprised them and riddled them.