Okinawa_ The Last Battle Of World War II Part 6

Rocket trucks raced down from the north, b.u.mping and swaying over a saddle of ground, stopped, loosed their flights of missiles, whirled and careened away with a whine of changing gears and a roar of wasted gasoline-just avoiding the inevitable j.a.panese artillery sh.e.l.ls crashing in behind them. The rockets made Sugar Loaf's hillsides reel and reverberate as though a string of monster firecrackers had been set off. Artillery began again. The Marines sprinted over the field and up Sugar Loaf, one platoon taking the right face, peeling off its fire teams, another sweeping up on the left. They met on the crest, formed, and swept down the reverse slope, killing as they went. Back came the message: "Send up the PX supplies. Sugar Loaf is ours."

It was-and it wasn't-for it took the fresh Fourth Marines who had relieved the fought-out Twenty-ninth four more days to drive deeper into the complex. The Sixth Marine Division itself lost a total of 2,662 killed and wounded in this bitter battle, with another 1,289 felled by combat fatigue. In the end, after the Half-Moon was taken and the Sixth stood poised to drive down-island into Naha, they came under plunging enemy artillery fire from the left on Shuri Heights.

The Sixth could not strike at Naha until the First destroyed the enemy on Shuri Heights.

The First Marine Division was "processing" its way south.

This was the cold, grim term coined by Major General del Valle to describe the cold, grim warfare that his troops were fighting en route to Shuri Heights. Along that way lay Dakeshi Ridge, Dakeshi Town, Wana Ridge, Wana Draw-those now-familiar formidable jumbles of stone-steel-and-concrete that could only be made smooth by the "processing" of tank-infantry-flamethrower teams. These four places were the sentinel forts guarding the northwest way into the heart of the Naha-Shuri-Yonabaru line at Shuri Castle. Moving down against them, its regiments leapfrogging one another all along the pitiless way, the First Marine Division was exposed to almost constant fire from its left flank and struck unceasingly from its front. The deeper the advance, the more numerous and formidable became the defenses in depth, the more difficult the terrain.

On May 11 the First began bucking at Dakeshi Ridge and Dakeshi Town. Both fell after a seesaw three-day battle, the Americans plodding forward by day, the j.a.panese counter-attacking by night. Daylight sometimes meant a fresh attack to recover ground surrendered during the night. Platoons took a position at the cost of three-fourths of their men, then tried to hang on with the survivors. Sometimes they could not. In Dakeshi Town the Marines found a labyrinth of tunnels, shafts, and caves, with snipers everywhere among the ruins-crouching behind broken walls, hidden in wells or cisterns. But Dakeshi Town also fell, and on May 14 the First Marine Division entered Wana Draw.

Wana Draw was a long, narrowing ravine running east to Shuri. It was formed by the reverse slope of Wana Ridge on its left and the forward slope of another ridge to the right. All its low, gently rising ground was covered by gunfire, from its mouth four hundred yards wide to the point at which, eight hundred yards east, it narrowed sharply between steep cliffs under the heights of Shuri.

Although neither Shuri nor Shuri Castle was in the zone of the First Marine Division, but rather in the Seventy-seventh Division's, the plunging fire that fell from them was meant for the First Division's left flank. It was necessary for the First to face left, or east, and attack up Wana Draw-both to remove that thorn from its flesh and to knock out those powerful positions menacing the entire western half of the Tenth Army front. Any attack south past Shuri would be struck in both flank and rear.

On May 14, the day on which Major Courtney led the charge on Sugar Loaf, the First Marine Division began "processing" Wana Draw.

A few tanks slipped into the ravine. They probed for the caves. Ant.i.tank fire fell on them. Supporting riflemen took the j.a.panese gunners under fire. Suicide troops rushed for the tanks hurling satchel charges. Again the supporting riflemen protected the tanks. But sometimes the ant.i.tank guns knocked out the tanks, sometimes the j.a.panese infantrymen drove the Marine riflemen back, sometimes the satchel charges blew up a tank. But when the tanks did gain a foothold, then the more vulnerable flamethrowing tanks rumbled in. They sprayed the hillside with fire, particularly those reverse slopes that could not be reached by bombs or artillery.

Squads of foot Marines went in after them, men with bazookas, flamethrowers, hand grenades, blocks of dynamite-peeling off, team by team, taking cave after cave, crawling up to them under the protective fire of riflemen kneeling in the mud. More and more men went into Wana Draw. Day after day the Division bucked against this barrier, but soon there were whole companies working up the slopes, "processing" caves and pillboxes, calling down their mortars and rifle grenades on the machine guns and mortars sure to be nesting on the reverse slope. It was war at its most basic, man to man, a battle fought by corporals and privates. And these were the men who won the Medals of Honor while the First Division processed its way into Shuri: Private Dale Hansen, using a bazooka, a rifle, and hand grenades to knock out a pillbox and a mortar position and kill a dozen j.a.panese before he lost his own life; Pfc. Albert Schwab, attacking machine guns alone with his flamethrower, silencing them even as he perished; Corporal Louis Hauge, doing the same with grenades, and also dying. With these men were their indomitable comrades of the Navy Medical Corps, men such as Corpsman William Halyburton, who deliberately shielded wounded Marines with his own body until his life leaked out of it.

This was the fight for Wana Draw, that pitiless bloodletting swirling inside a gully while the very elements howled about these men in muddy green floundering up the forward slopes, these men in smeared khaki sliding down the reverse slopes. At night, under cover of smoke screens, the men in khaki crept forward again to close with the men in green, to fight with bayonets and fists and strangling hands. But the men in khaki were losing the fight for Wana Draw. The Marines drew closer to Shuri. The soldiers of the Seventy-seventh Division on their left were thrusting toward Shuri and Shuri Castle from the eastern gate. On the east flank the Seventh Infantry Division was back in the line and smashing into Yonabaru; the Sixth Marine Division was again on the march to Naha on the west. All along the line, division and corps artillery were battering Ushijima's strongpoints, the Tenth Army's Tactical Air Force roved over the battlefield at will-and the warships of the fleet were slugging away with the most formidable supporting fire yet laid down in the Pacific, for they had caught the hang of pasting those reverse slopes that land-air pounding could not reach.

Ushijima's barrier line was buckling.

On the eastern front from Conical Hill to Shuri Castle, the Ninety-sixth and Seventy-seventh Divisions were also driving slowly but doggedly into Ushijima's bristling defenses-and with the Seventy-seventh there marched perhaps the most unusual hero in the annals of American arms. His name was Pfc. Desmond Doss. He was a medic in the 307th Infantry. He was also a Seventh-Day Adventist, a doctrinal pacifist who shrank from even touching a weapon and would not work on Sat.u.r.day, his creed's Sabbath. As a conscientious objector, on religious grounds he might have joined that corps of noncombatants who refused to serve their country on the battlefield. But Desmond Doss saw clearly that it was his duty to serve and that he, too, could risk his flesh for his country without taking the life of a brother human.

As a medic during his regiment's bitter battle on the Maeda Escarpment in late April, Doss distinguished himself by his utter disregard for his own safety and his devotion to his soldier buddies. Again and again he risked enemy fire to come to the side of stricken GIs, dressing their wounds and then dragging them to the edge of a cliff, where he fastened them to a rope sling of his own devising and lowered them to safety. He did this so often that some of his buddies, believing that he had a charmed life, sought to stay near him. For his gallantry, Doss received the Medal of Honor: a reproach to those who said, "I will not serve," and a credit to a nation that could bestow its highest military award on a brave pacifist.

Doss was still with the Seventy-seventh on May 11 when that veteran division took on the Chocolate Drop-Wart Hill-Flattop Hill complex in the center of the island. This forbidding position-almost as formidable as Sugar Loaf-bristled with mortars and interlocking machine-guns and 47 mm ant.i.tank guns. Because Ushijima had added a protective minefield to its front, the Seventh's GIs-like the Marines at Sugar Loaf-had to attack without tanks. Casualties were frightful. Colonel Aubrey Smith's 306th Regiment was bled so horribly that Smith was compelled to form the remnants-that is, about eight hundred men out of twenty-four hundred-into a single battalion. A similar Gethsemane awaited Colonel Stephen Hamilton's 307th after it relieved the 306th. As Hamilton's soldiers filed into place, one of them thought that the line of American dead sprawled atop Chocolate Drop looked like a skirmish line ready to leap erect and charge.

As Doss had risked his life on the escarpment, he crawled bravely through enemy fire to succor the wounded. But there his charmed life ended when a bursting mortar sh.e.l.l mangled both his legs. Doss treated his own wounds, waiting five hours for stretcher-bearers to arrive. On the way to the Battalion Aid Station, a fierce enemy barrage drove the bearers to cover. Lying alone on the litter, Doss saw a badly wounded GI untended, rolling from the stretcher to crawl to him and dress his wounds. While waiting for the bearers to return, Doss was. .h.i.t again in the arm, suffering a compound fracture. Overcoming his horror of touching a gun, this indomitable youth actually made a splint for his arm from a rifle stock, and then squirmed three hundred yards to the aid station, where he was treated and began to recover from his wounds.

Such was the uncommon valor mixed with unique compa.s.sion that was common on Okinawa.

On the Twenty-fourth Corps's eastern flank above Buckner Bay the Ninety-sixth Division was driving against Conical Hill, and also d.i.c.k Hill just to the east of Flattop. Here stiff resistance had stalled both GIs of the Seventy-seventh on their division's extreme left and those of the Ninety-sixth on their own right. But on May 17 an infantry platoon entered over a road cut between d.i.c.k and Flattop to explode enemy mines. They used bayonets to detonate the buried explosives-a risky tactic that cost nineteen casualties. In the process they sealed off five caves full of enemy soldiers.

Lieutenant Colonel Cyril Sterner of the 382nd's Second Battalion realized at once that this lightly defended road was the key to the j.a.panese position. But it was heavily mined. Ingeniously, Sterner ordered seven tons of bangalore torpedoes-lengths of pipe packed with explosives-laid in the road's ruts and detonated, thus blasting all the mines. Now tanks could get into the rear of d.i.c.k and Flattop, a.s.sisted by flamethrowing tanks, and once the Americans were able to make such a penetration they always turned the enemy flank. That was what was done at Flattop and d.i.c.k, and by May 21 all that was needed for the Tenth Army to pierce Ushijima's barrier line was for Colonel Eddy May's 382nd Infantry of the Ninety-sixth Division to crack that hard nut known as Conical Hill.

Conical Hill was the eminence holding down the easternmost flank of Ushijima's Naha-Shuri-Yonabaru barrier. If it fell to the Americans, it would unmask Yonabaru, the eastern terminus of the vital Yonabaru-Naha highway. If the Twenty-fourth Corps did succeed in turning it, its troops could then meet the two Marine divisions of the Third Corps at Naha, thus effecting a double envelopment that might trap Ushijima before he could retreat farther south. Because of the importance of this position, General Hodge had chosen Colonel May-his best regimental commander-to direct the attack.

Conical Hill's importance had not been lost on General Ushijima, and he had stationed one thousand of his finest troops there, confident that they could not be dislodged. Most of them were concentrated in the hills and ridges to the west of Conical, where they expected the enemy to strike. Indeed, that was where May actually attempted his penetration. But the battalion May had a.s.signed to that sector got nowhere in ten days of fighting, while another a.s.saulting Conical's north face had seized so much ground in two days that both Hodge and Buckner were delighted.

Buckner actually joined May on May 13 to watch the Shermans blasting away at every fissure and crack of Conical's forward slope. Now E and F Companies of Lieutenant Colonel Edward Stare's Second Battalion began to move out. Because E was slow getting started, the two platoons forming the spearhead of Lieutenant Owen O'Neill's F Company quickly reached their jump-off point. As an indication of the heavy casualties ravaging the Ninety-sixth's company officers, these units were commanded by two technical sergeants: Guy Dale and Dennis Doniphan. They waited for O'Neill, unaware that his radio was not working. Unwilling to delay longer, they went up Conical on their own initiative. There was little resistance, but the Americans were not deceived. Forward slopes were always a waltz: the real dance of death came screeching out the back door. Yet, to their surprise, not a soldier was. .h.i.t as they climbed to a point about fifty feet below Conical's high round peak. Here they began to dig in, for to attempt to take Conical's tiny indefensible top would have drawn fire from every quarter.

By one of those accidental strokes of luck that so often rule the battlefield, Doniphan and Dale apparently had caught the j.a.panese in an unguarded moment. Perhaps the enemy had been preoccupied with those western hills. Whatever the excuse, the Americans had been given time to entrench themselves-and it was the c.h.i.n.k c.h.i.n.k and and clink clink of those entrenching tools that alarmed Lieutenant Colonel Kensuke Udo. At once he ordered a counter-attack. Out of the reverse slope poured the yelling j.a.panese, coming full tilt down the forward slope to be hammered to the ground. Now Lieutenant O'Neill joined his men, visibly and vocally pleased by the action of his alert sergeants, immediately calling for the tardy E Company under Captain Stanley Sutten to come up the hill and form a battle front on F Company's right flank. Two full companies safely entrenched and supported by mortars below now held a perimeter east of Conical's peak. Oddly enough, the j.a.panese did not counter-attack that night. of those entrenching tools that alarmed Lieutenant Colonel Kensuke Udo. At once he ordered a counter-attack. Out of the reverse slope poured the yelling j.a.panese, coming full tilt down the forward slope to be hammered to the ground. Now Lieutenant O'Neill joined his men, visibly and vocally pleased by the action of his alert sergeants, immediately calling for the tardy E Company under Captain Stanley Sutten to come up the hill and form a battle front on F Company's right flank. Two full companies safely entrenched and supported by mortars below now held a perimeter east of Conical's peak. Oddly enough, the j.a.panese did not counter-attack that night.

At 383rd's headquarters a delighted Simon Bolivar Buckner congratulated Colonel May on what he described as one of the finest small-unit maneuvers he had ever witnessed.

During the next three days-May 14, 15, and 16-E and F Companies, now joined by G, fought off the desperately counter-attacking j.a.panese in a bitter battle on Conical's forward slope. Gradually the enemy-again charging through their own mortar sh.e.l.ls-began to whittle Colonel Stare's battalion. At last Major General Jim Bradley ordered Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Nolan's Third Battalion of the 381st Infantry to relieve Stare's valiant but fought-out Dogfaces. It was a wise decision, for the belligerent Nolan sent his GIs driving down a hogback into Sugar Hill, and with the fall of that strongpoint, Conical Hill was in American hands.

In ten days between May 11 and 21 both sides had been locked in the fiercest fighting of this terrible Okinawa campaign, so hideously reminiscent of the trench warfare of World War I, both in its horrible human losses and the attempt of one side to pierce the defenses of an enemy determined to yield not an inch. It was the unstoppable force against the immovable object; more clearly in military terms, what always happens when firepower wielded by the valiant cannot fail to overwhelm spiritual power alone-no matter how valorous and dedicated its devotees. Casualties in the Seventy-seventh Division were 239 killed, 1,212 wounded, and 16 missing; in the Ninety-sixth Division 138 killed, 1,059 wounded, and 9 missing. j.a.panese losses are not known, although they were probably twice this number, even though Ushijima's soldiers were on the defensive.

Perhaps the greatest tribute to the American fighting men on Okinawa came from their favorite English-language broadcaster, Radio Tokyo: Sugar Loaf Hill... Chocolate Drop ... Strawberry Hill. Gee, these places sound wonderful! You can just see the candy houses with the white picket fences around them and the candy canes hanging from the trees, their red and white stripes glistening in the sun. But the only thing red about these places is the blood of Americans. Yes, sir, these are the names of hills in southern Okinawa where the fighting's so close that you can get down to bayonets and sometimes your bare fists... I guess it's natural to idealize the worst places with pretty names to make them seem less awful. Why, Sugar Loaf has changed hands so often it looks like Dante's Inferno. Yes, sir, Sugar Loaf Hill ... Chocolate Drop... Strawberry Hill. They sound good, don't they? Only those who've been there know what they're really like.

True enough. But only the Yanks who were there really knew the final score.

Ushijima Retreats Again

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

Major General John Hodge saw the lodgment on Conical Hill as an opportunity for a turning movement of Ushijima's eastern flank. He would use the rested Seventy-seventh Division-"rested" in that, withdrawn from combat, they had only to contend with mud, misery, and malaria-to move along Buckner Bay's coastal flats without fear of plunging fire from Conical Hill. If the Seventy-seventh could reach and capture Yonabaru, they could wheel west to join the Marine divisions moving around the enemy's western flank and so trap the Thirty-second Army in a double envelopment.

It was an excellent concept and a distinct possibility, although two factors stood between the idea and its execution: renewed rain and Ushijima's unwillingness to sit still for destruction.

On the night of May 22, with the Sixth Marine Division across the Asato River and poised to break into Naha, there was another conference under Shuri Castle. Lieutenant General Ushijima had decided to retreat. He could no longer hold his Yonabaru-Shuri-Naha line. He would have to withdraw south of the Yonabaru-Naha valley, abandoning even that fine cross-island road. Where to? Should it be the wild, roadless Chinen Peninsula on the east coast, or southernmost Kiyamu Peninsula? The wrangle began. In the end, the Kiyamu was chosen because of the strength of the Yaeju-Yuza Peaks and the honeycombs of natural and artificial caves that could accommodate the entire Thirty-second Army for its final stand.

The next day Ushijima began reinforcing his flanks again to hold off the Americans while his withdrawal began, but he was too late to prevent the turning of the west flank at Naha. The Sixth Division burst into the city's ruins and began its reduction.

Ushijima still counter-attacked the Seventh Division on the east flank at Yonabaru, trying to relieve the pressure there, but the Seventh's valiant Dogfaces held fast.

A nocturnal kamikaze kamikaze raid hurled at Okinawa shipping to coincide with Ushijima's land strikes was shattered, with 150 planes shot down in exchange for the loss of the destroyer-transport raid hurled at Okinawa shipping to coincide with Ushijima's land strikes was shattered, with 150 planes shot down in exchange for the loss of the destroyer-transport Bates Bates and one LSM, plus damage to eight other ships. and one LSM, plus damage to eight other ships.

The most ferocious display of antiaircraft power yet seen in the Pacific broke up a daring airborne attack on Yontan and Kadena Airfields. It was an unusually clear night, and there were thousands of witnesses to this small savage setback that the suicide spirit was able to inflict on the Americans.

Perhaps twenty twin-engined bombers came gliding through a fiery lacework woven by American antiaircraft gunners. Eleven of them fell in flames. The rest, except one, fled.

That solitary Sally bomber skidded on its belly along one of Yontan's runways. When it stopped, eight of fourteen men of the j.a.panese First Air Raiding Brigade were dead in their seats, but six of them were alive, tumbling out the door, coming erect, and sprinting for parked planes while hurling heat grenades and phosphorous bombs. They blew up eight airplanes, damaged twenty-six others, destroyed two fuel dumps housing seventy thousand gallons of gasoline, and killed two Marines and wounded eighteen others before they were finally hunted down and killed.

In the morning the Tenth Army was still grinding down toward the heart of Ushijima's defense in Shuri Castle. Marines of the First Division in Wana Draw began to draw swiftly closer to the city and its heights to their east. They began to notice j.a.panese sealing off caves and quitting the draw. At noon of May 26 Major General del Valle asked for an aerial reconnaissance over the Yonabaru-Naha valley. He had a hunch the j.a.panese were pulling back from Shuri, trying to sneak out under cover of a heavy rain.

A spotter plane from the battleship New York reported that the roads behind Shuri were packed. Between three thousand and four thousand j.a.panese were on the rear march with all their guns, tanks, and trucks. In thirteen minutes, despite rain and bad visibility, the warships of the fleet were on the target. Soon fifty Marine Corsairs were with them, rocketing and strafing, and every Marine artillery piece or mortar within range had its smoking muzzle pointed toward the valley. They killed from five hundred to eight hundred j.a.panese and littered the muddy roadways with wrecked vehicles.

Three days later the Marines took Shuri Castle.

It was not supposed to be theirs to take; it was the objective of the Seventy-seventh Division, the very plum of the Okinawa fighting, but the First Marine Division took it anyway.

General del Valle sent a battalion of the Fifth Marines climbing into Shuri on May 29. He wanted to get around and behind the j.a.panese still holding out in Wana Draw. The First Battalion quickly stormed Shuri Ridge to the east, or left, of the draw-so quickly that Lieutenant Colonel Charles Shelburne asked permission to go on to the castle eight hundred yards east. Del Valle granted it. The Seventy-seventh Division was still two days' hard fighting from the castle, and the chance was too good to ignore. The light defenses around Shuri might be only a temporary lapse.

Company A of the Fifth Marines under Captain Julius Dusenbury began slogging east in knee-deep mud. Inside Captain Dusenbury's helmet was a flag, as had become almost customary among Marine commanders since the Suribachi flag-raising. While the Marines marched, del Valle was just barely averting the Seventy-seventh's planned artillery and aerial strike on Shuri Castle, and then Dusenbury's Marines overran a party of j.a.panese soldiers and swept into the castle courtyard, into the battered ruins of what had once been a beautiful palace with curving, tiered roofs of tile. They ran up to its high parapet, and over this Captain Dusenbury flew his flag.

Shuri Castle, the key bastion of the Okinawa defenses, was in American hands-and if the Seventy-seventh Division was irritated, if the Tenth Army was displeased, the soldier who commanded the Americans on Okinawa could not be entirely annoyed. The flag that Captain Dusenbury of South Carolina flew was the flag of Simon Bolivar Buckner's father. The Stars and Bars, not the Stars and Stripes, waved over Okinawa.

Two days later Old Glory was in its rightful place. General del Valle sent a party with the standard of the First Marine Division, the one that had flown over Guadalca.n.a.l, New Britain, and Peleliu.

Now, above Shuri Castle not far from the spot where Commodore Perry had hoisted the American flag a century ago, the most victorious flag of the Pacific was caught and flung in the breeze.

The j.a.panese retreating to the south could see it. They fired on it, missing. They kept firing, for they understood that the terrible power it symbolized was already ma.s.sing to come south and destroy them.

Chrysanthemums Die in Sea and Sky

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Plane and pilot losses in the Fifth Air Fleet and Sixth Air Army had been so severe that in j.a.pan a special kamikaze kamikaze corps had been organized. Replacements in both machines and men were fed from bases in central and northern Nippon to Kyushu. Often these aviators were hardly more than raw recruits whose training periods were of short duration. At first the corps had been organized. Replacements in both machines and men were fed from bases in central and northern Nippon to Kyushu. Often these aviators were hardly more than raw recruits whose training periods were of short duration. At first the kamikaze kamikaze had been strictly volunteers, but as the Okinawa campaign continued, all j.a.panese sailors and soldiers were subject to suicide duty whether or not they wished to go. Sometimes commanders "volunteered" their entire units for this not-always desirable service. More and more "glorious young eagles" began to "get lost" and returned to base. Others who went willingly were frustrated by frequent engine trouble or the weather. These were the ardent, idealist youths such as the pilot who left the verse: "When I fly the skies / What a fine burial place / Would be the top of a cloud." Others were not so eager to make the supreme sacrifice, like the one who wrote: "I say frankly, I do not die willingly. I die not without regret. My country's future leaves me uneasy... I am terribly distressed." had been strictly volunteers, but as the Okinawa campaign continued, all j.a.panese sailors and soldiers were subject to suicide duty whether or not they wished to go. Sometimes commanders "volunteered" their entire units for this not-always desirable service. More and more "glorious young eagles" began to "get lost" and returned to base. Others who went willingly were frustrated by frequent engine trouble or the weather. These were the ardent, idealist youths such as the pilot who left the verse: "When I fly the skies / What a fine burial place / Would be the top of a cloud." Others were not so eager to make the supreme sacrifice, like the one who wrote: "I say frankly, I do not die willingly. I die not without regret. My country's future leaves me uneasy... I am terribly distressed."

Much of the glamour of the Special Attack Forces had faded. Its members were still idolized, of course, and there was always a ceremony for the final departure: toasts of sake sake to be drunk and cigarettes from the Imperial Gift to be smoked-Hirohito's parting benefaction upon his private army of a.s.sa.s.sins. But the scourging of the Kyushu bases by American air power had turned these once-thriving and stimulating centers into dreary, dismal limbos where the to be drunk and cigarettes from the Imperial Gift to be smoked-Hirohito's parting benefaction upon his private army of a.s.sa.s.sins. But the scourging of the Kyushu bases by American air power had turned these once-thriving and stimulating centers into dreary, dismal limbos where the kamikaze kamikaze awaiting the death order escaped boredom-or depression-by helping local farmers with their spring planting. awaiting the death order escaped boredom-or depression-by helping local farmers with their spring planting.

Rain, it seemed, always brought the kamikaze, kamikaze, and on May 11 as the Tenth Army a.s.sault slogged and slipped forward, the growl and grumble and whistling rain of the Great Loo Choo's skies were a welcome sound to about 150 j.a.panese aircraft hurtling south from Kyushu. Those who were believing Shintoists said a prayer of thanksgiving to the Sun G.o.ddess for having providentially averted her face, forgetting in their grat.i.tude the disaster that had crippled their attack at its outset. A formation of Judy bombers climbing from Kokobu Airfield's Airstrip 2 crashed into a formation of Val suiciders taking off from another runway, with a total loss of 15 planes. The remaining 135, however, continued to roar south for Okinawa and TF 58. and on May 11 as the Tenth Army a.s.sault slogged and slipped forward, the growl and grumble and whistling rain of the Great Loo Choo's skies were a welcome sound to about 150 j.a.panese aircraft hurtling south from Kyushu. Those who were believing Shintoists said a prayer of thanksgiving to the Sun G.o.ddess for having providentially averted her face, forgetting in their grat.i.tude the disaster that had crippled their attack at its outset. A formation of Judy bombers climbing from Kokobu Airfield's Airstrip 2 crashed into a formation of Val suiciders taking off from another runway, with a total loss of 15 planes. The remaining 135, however, continued to roar south for Okinawa and TF 58.

Those that reached Picket Station 15 about 7:50 A.M. were delighted to sight two enemy destroyers clearly visible below them. They were the Evans Evans and and Hugh W. Hadley, Hugh W. Hadley, commanded by Naval Academy cla.s.smates Commanders Robert Archer in commanded by Naval Academy cla.s.smates Commanders Robert Archer in Evans Evans and Baron Mullaney in and Baron Mullaney in Hadley. Hadley. They watched in apprehension as no less than 50 suiciders peeled off to begin orbiting above them-and when they began to dive, there ensued probably the cla.s.sic ship-airplane battle of World War II. They watched in apprehension as no less than 50 suiciders peeled off to begin orbiting above them-and when they began to dive, there ensued probably the cla.s.sic ship-airplane battle of World War II.

For an hour and a half without letup Evans Evans and and Hadley Hadley fought off fifty fought off fifty kamikaze. Hadley kamikaze. Hadley alone shot down twenty-three of them, while alone shot down twenty-three of them, while Evans Evans claimed fifteen. The Marines from Yontan and Kadena knocked another nineteen out of the skies. Commander Mullaney of claimed fifteen. The Marines from Yontan and Kadena knocked another nineteen out of the skies. Commander Mullaney of Hadley Hadley called for Marines to help him. Back came the squadron leader's answer: "I'm out of ammunition but I'm sticking with you." He did, flying straight into a flurry of ten called for Marines to help him. Back came the squadron leader's answer: "I'm out of ammunition but I'm sticking with you." He did, flying straight into a flurry of ten kamikaze kamikaze coming at coming at Hadley Hadley fore and aft, trying to head them off-while other Marines of his squadron rode down through the ack-ack with stuttering guns. They were not always successful, for both of these tough little ships took four fore and aft, trying to head them off-while other Marines of his squadron rode down through the ack-ack with stuttering guns. They were not always successful, for both of these tough little ships took four kamikaze kamikaze hits apiece. But they survived to be towed to that anchorage in Kerama-retto that had become a vast hospital ward for stricken and maimed American ships, and there Commander Mullaney could write this tribute to the Yontan and Kadena fliers: "I am willing to take my ship to the sh.o.r.es of j.a.pan if I could have these Marines with me." hits apiece. But they survived to be towed to that anchorage in Kerama-retto that had become a vast hospital ward for stricken and maimed American ships, and there Commander Mullaney could write this tribute to the Yontan and Kadena fliers: "I am willing to take my ship to the sh.o.r.es of j.a.pan if I could have these Marines with me."

Meanwhile, another fifty kamikaze kamikaze had found Task Force Fifty-eight. On the bridge of his flag carrier had found Task Force Fifty-eight. On the bridge of his flag carrier Bunker Hill Bunker Hill Admiral Marc Mitscher watched in open admiration as the j.a.panese pilots skillfully used rain clouds and window to deceive the American radar. He frowned as a Zero suicider broke from low clouds on the carrier's starboard quarter, smashing through rows of planes on the flight deck to start fires before crashing overboard and exploding. Behind it came a Judy diving straight down from astern. It hit at the worst possible moment-with armed planes refueling on the flight deck. While a broken fuel line fed a roaring fire, these planes exploded like a burst from a giant machine gun. In a few moments 400 sailors were killed or blown out of sight and another 264 wounded. Admiral Marc Mitscher watched in open admiration as the j.a.panese pilots skillfully used rain clouds and window to deceive the American radar. He frowned as a Zero suicider broke from low clouds on the carrier's starboard quarter, smashing through rows of planes on the flight deck to start fires before crashing overboard and exploding. Behind it came a Judy diving straight down from astern. It hit at the worst possible moment-with armed planes refueling on the flight deck. While a broken fuel line fed a roaring fire, these planes exploded like a burst from a giant machine gun. In a few moments 400 sailors were killed or blown out of sight and another 264 wounded.

Even so Bunker Hill's Bunker Hill's ordeal did not quite equal the agony of ordeal did not quite equal the agony of Franklin, Franklin, although there was just as much heroism in the fight to douse her flames and keep her afloat. Machinist's Mate Jack Salvaggio would forever bless the porthole in the ship's stencil room that he had so fervently cursed for the wind blowing through it to scatter his papers. Now he wriggled through this pa.s.sport to continued life. Another machinist named Harold Fraught believed he was trapped in a smoke-filled pa.s.sageway, until he saw a tiny open porthole. "I was about to reach it but couldn't, and I was just about to give up when someone pushed me through. I sure would like to find out who it was who kept pushing every guy through but not saving himself." although there was just as much heroism in the fight to douse her flames and keep her afloat. Machinist's Mate Jack Salvaggio would forever bless the porthole in the ship's stencil room that he had so fervently cursed for the wind blowing through it to scatter his papers. Now he wriggled through this pa.s.sport to continued life. Another machinist named Harold Fraught believed he was trapped in a smoke-filled pa.s.sageway, until he saw a tiny open porthole. "I was about to reach it but couldn't, and I was just about to give up when someone pushed me through. I sure would like to find out who it was who kept pushing every guy through but not saving himself."

For 5 hours Bunker Hill's Bunker Hill's gallant crew fought the flames threatening to consume and sink their ship. Splendid seamanship saved her: heeling from a list to starboard to one to port, the great vessel gradually combined gravity and gathering momentum to send a huge ma.s.s of burning gasoline and oil, water and foam, sloshing slowly from the hangar deck overboard into the sea. At this point, Admiral Mitscher transferred his flag from gallant crew fought the flames threatening to consume and sink their ship. Splendid seamanship saved her: heeling from a list to starboard to one to port, the great vessel gradually combined gravity and gathering momentum to send a huge ma.s.s of burning gasoline and oil, water and foam, sloshing slowly from the hangar deck overboard into the sea. At this point, Admiral Mitscher transferred his flag from Bunker Hill Bunker Hill-the second-worst-hit ship in the Navy to survive, though she would need many months of repair-to the more famous Enterprise. Enterprise.Next day, the kikusui kikusui struck again, but not nearly with as much savagery as on May 11-scoring only one hit on the struck again, but not nearly with as much savagery as on May 11-scoring only one hit on the Bache, Bache, a radar picket ship far south of Okinawa, knocking out its power plant and killing forty-one sailors. a radar picket ship far south of Okinawa, knocking out its power plant and killing forty-one sailors.

Nevertheless Admiral Spruance was alarmed by the renewed fury of the Floating Chrysanthemums and ordered Mitscher to take two task groups north to work over the Kyushu airfields. Mitscher did, introducing a naval novelty in the night-flying Air Group Ninety aboard Enterprise, Enterprise, which gave the weary j.a.panese airmen no rest. Mitscher also struck hard at Ugaki's northern airfields, shifting his sights from the enemy's battered southern bases. Meanwhile, Corsairs and h.e.l.lcats ranged among enemy interceptors like devouring wolves while the torpedo-launching Avengers and h.e.l.ldiver dive-bombers ravaged no less than thirty-four of Ugaki's air bases. which gave the weary j.a.panese airmen no rest. Mitscher also struck hard at Ugaki's northern airfields, shifting his sights from the enemy's battered southern bases. Meanwhile, Corsairs and h.e.l.lcats ranged among enemy interceptors like devouring wolves while the torpedo-launching Avengers and h.e.l.ldiver dive-bombers ravaged no less than thirty-four of Ugaki's air bases.

Still the kamikaze kamikaze fought back. On May 14 a flight of eighty-four fighters zoomed aloft as cover for twenty-six Zero suiciders bent on punishing TF 58 for its audacious strikes at the homeland. A pretakeoff briefing could not have been briefer: three words, "Get the carriers!" Young Lieutenant Tomai Kai could not forget this command as he roared aloft in his bomb-laden Zero. To his delight he soon found himself above TF 58 and a monster carrier. He had no way of knowing that this was fought back. On May 14 a flight of eighty-four fighters zoomed aloft as cover for twenty-six Zero suiciders bent on punishing TF 58 for its audacious strikes at the homeland. A pretakeoff briefing could not have been briefer: three words, "Get the carriers!" Young Lieutenant Tomai Kai could not forget this command as he roared aloft in his bomb-laden Zero. To his delight he soon found himself above TF 58 and a monster carrier. He had no way of knowing that this was Enterprise Enterprise-the "Big E, "Big E, " one of the most battle-seasoned flattops of World War II-but he didn't hesitate to jump her despite the bucking and bouncing of his frail craft from enemy ack-ack exploding around him. Bursting from a cloud at fifteen hundred feet, Kai pointed his Zero's nose at the " one of the most battle-seasoned flattops of World War II-but he didn't hesitate to jump her despite the bucking and bouncing of his frail craft from enemy ack-ack exploding around him. Bursting from a cloud at fifteen hundred feet, Kai pointed his Zero's nose at the Big E's Big E's stern and opened his throttle, miraculously pa.s.sing unscathed through a storm of 20 and 40 mm tracers flowing toward him. Standing on the carrier's bridge Admiral Mitscher's calculating eye calmly watched the enemy's approach. stern and opened his throttle, miraculously pa.s.sing unscathed through a storm of 20 and 40 mm tracers flowing toward him. Standing on the carrier's bridge Admiral Mitscher's calculating eye calmly watched the enemy's approach.

Two hundred yards astern Lieutenant Kai flip-flopped his aircraft upside down just as he pa.s.sed over Enterprise, Enterprise, and then, to steepen his dive, yanked the stick all the way back. Just before he crashed into the carrier's flight deck at an angle of fifty degrees, he released his 550-pound bomb. The missile plunged straight down the yawning elevator well, exploding with a monstrous roar that sent the elevator roof spinning lazily into the sea. Fortunately, most of the crewmen above deck were wearing flash-proof clothing so that only a few men were badly burned in comparison to the horrible scorching of and then, to steepen his dive, yanked the stick all the way back. Just before he crashed into the carrier's flight deck at an angle of fifty degrees, he released his 550-pound bomb. The missile plunged straight down the yawning elevator well, exploding with a monstrous roar that sent the elevator roof spinning lazily into the sea. Fortunately, most of the crewmen above deck were wearing flash-proof clothing so that only a few men were badly burned in comparison to the horrible scorching of Franklin's Franklin's crewmen. Moreover, only thirteen were killed and sixty-nine wounded. Big E's alert crewmen had prepared their ship for attack. Fuel lines had been drained and filled with CO crewmen. Moreover, only thirteen were killed and sixty-nine wounded. Big E's alert crewmen had prepared their ship for attack. Fuel lines had been drained and filled with CO2; aircraft had been disarmed, drained of fuel, and stowed below; compartments had been made watertight by d.o.g.g.i.ng down the bulkheads, and emergency rations were stored within them. Best of all, when flames did erupt, the fire-fighting details were ready for them.

Thus, when Admiral Mitscher on his flag bridge stared quizzically at the hole left in the flight deck by Kai's Zero, he was not dismayed. Instead, he removed the long-visored baseball cap he always wore, scratched his bald head and said: "Tell my task group commanders that if the j.a.panese keep this up, they're going to grow hair on my head yet." Marc Mitscher also would cherish a calling card found on the intact corpse of the heroic young Lieutenant Tomai Kai who had come so close to sinking the admiral's flagship.

Following the failure of the Floating Chrysanthemum operation that included the airborne attack on Yontan-Kadena and Lieutenant Kai's crash dive on Enterprise, Enterprise, the Fifth Air Fleet was so short of planes and pilots that it pressed into service twenty Shirigaku twin-engine trainers. These awkward aircraft, certainly no match for the swift and st.u.r.dy American fighters, comprised most of the aircraft deployed in the Fifth Air Fleet was so short of planes and pilots that it pressed into service twenty Shirigaku twin-engine trainers. These awkward aircraft, certainly no match for the swift and st.u.r.dy American fighters, comprised most of the aircraft deployed in Kikusui Kikusui 7 on May 24. No decision could have been more indicative of the desperation of Ugaki and Sugahara. They would not only lose the invaluable pilots and crew-trainers of the Shirigaku, but have few instructors remaining to teach the low-quality recruits being dragooned in the north and sent to Kyushu. And they did lose them, as the Marine Corsairs roved among them with stuttering guns. Nevertheless, 7 on May 24. No decision could have been more indicative of the desperation of Ugaki and Sugahara. They would not only lose the invaluable pilots and crew-trainers of the Shirigaku, but have few instructors remaining to teach the low-quality recruits being dragooned in the north and sent to Kyushu. And they did lose them, as the Marine Corsairs roved among them with stuttering guns. Nevertheless, Kikusui Kikusui 7 did hole the destroyer 7 did hole the destroyer Stormes, Stormes, while damaging the destroyer-transports while damaging the destroyer-transports Bates Bates and and Barry Barry so badly that so badly that Bates Bates sank and sank and Barry Barry was converted to a was converted to a kamikaze kamikaze decoy. decoy.

But the Divine Winds were back on May 27-28 for Floating Chrysanthemum 8, a novelty in that on the twenty-seventh some eighty-five Army and Navy aircraft attacked at night. Here was a demonstration of how inept aircraft designed for daytime combat can be fighting in darkness. Picket destroyers Anthony Anthony and and Braine Braine firing on radar quickly took out an indefinite number of invisible a.s.sailants, identified only by gasoline fires on black water. Wisely, the others waited until dawn to renew the a.s.sault, slightly damaging firing on radar quickly took out an indefinite number of invisible a.s.sailants, identified only by gasoline fires on black water. Wisely, the others waited until dawn to renew the a.s.sault, slightly damaging Anthony Anthony and mangling and mangling Braine Braine to kill about a hundred American seamen and wounding about the same number. to kill about a hundred American seamen and wounding about the same number.

The next day in clearing weather the kikusui kikusui were back, this time swooping again on their favorite target: the ships of Radar Picket Station 15. Destroyers were back, this time swooping again on their favorite target: the ships of Radar Picket Station 15. Destroyers Drexler Drexler and and Lowry Lowry were hit and staggered, but above them Marine Corsairs were plucking petals from the Chrysanthemums. Lieutenants R. F. Bourne and J. B. Seaman each downed a red-balled enemy, while Seaman exploded a third. As both pilots joined to attack a fourth, peeling the enemy's metal hide, its pilot maintained control and plunged into were hit and staggered, but above them Marine Corsairs were plucking petals from the Chrysanthemums. Lieutenants R. F. Bourne and J. B. Seaman each downed a red-balled enemy, while Seaman exploded a third. As both pilots joined to attack a fourth, peeling the enemy's metal hide, its pilot maintained control and plunged into Drexler Drexler with an impact that sent flames shooting hundreds of feet high. Within a minute with an impact that sent flames shooting hundreds of feet high. Within a minute Drexler Drexler rolled over and sank, taking 158 men down with her. rolled over and sank, taking 158 men down with her.

Reports of this disaster made eyelids flutter in Washington. Had the enemy perfected a new and fearful explosive? The answer came from a board of inquiry that preferred to believe-and probably correctly-that a heavy bomb striking a ship's magazine could easily produce such a violent fireball.

After May 28, Admiral Ugaki fully intended to continue his kikusui kikusui attacks, still believing that Admiral Spruance now commanded a ghost fleet of floating wrecks and derelicts. But then bad weather and the Army's disenchantment with the Floating Chrysanthemums-the generals had always believed that j.a.panese air power should be husbanded for homeland defense-interfered with his plans. To his dismay General Sugahara and his Sixth Air Army were removed from Navy control. He still had the cooperation of the Army's Third Air Division, however, and planned to resume what can only be described as his Graveyard Operation with attacks, still believing that Admiral Spruance now commanded a ghost fleet of floating wrecks and derelicts. But then bad weather and the Army's disenchantment with the Floating Chrysanthemums-the generals had always believed that j.a.panese air power should be husbanded for homeland defense-interfered with his plans. To his dismay General Sugahara and his Sixth Air Army were removed from Navy control. He still had the cooperation of the Army's Third Air Division, however, and planned to resume what can only be described as his Graveyard Operation with Kikusui Kikusui 9 on June 3. 9 on June 3.

Before then American airpower received a powerful reinforcement-in the arrival of a squadron of Army P-47 Thunderbolts. Here was a fighter unrivaled for its speed, armament, armor, and climbing power. On May 28 a flight of eight Thunderbolts under Captain John Vogt jumped twenty-eight Zeros forming in a Lufbery circle-a defensive aerial tactic perhaps copied from a ring of show horses moving tail to nose. Thus, each Zero was to protect the tail of the plane ahead. Because the Zero with its light armament and thin armor was fast and maneuverable, these pilots probably thought they were safe from attack, but the Thunderbolts climbing at full throttle moved high above their quarry at twenty-eight thousand feet-and then came screaming down in a dive that sent six of the enemy flaming into the sea along with two "probables." Captain Vogt claimed to have accounted for five of them.

Floating Chrysanthemum 9 did take to the skies on June 3, supposedly with about 101 aircraft. But this seems unlikely. The naval historian Samuel Eliot Morison gives only fifty. Whatever their number it was sharply reduced by the Yontan-Kadena Marine Corsairs, succeeding only in holing a minelayer. The next day the kamikaze kamikaze dove again, but in almost negligible strength. Once again the unfortunate dove again, but in almost negligible strength. Once again the unfortunate Anthony Anthony was their target. To the crew's unbelieving eyes a suicider barely nicked by gunfire actually was their target. To the crew's unbelieving eyes a suicider barely nicked by gunfire actually bailed out! bailed out! This most unwarlike tactic, however, availed him nothing: his parachute streamed after him unopened to mark his plunge into the briny. Another plane dived at This most unwarlike tactic, however, availed him nothing: his parachute streamed after him unopened to mark his plunge into the briny. Another plane dived at Anthony Anthony but her 40 mm gunners shot it down. but her 40 mm gunners shot it down.

Kikusui 9 suggested that attrition of the Fifth Air Fleet-raids from Okinawa, Iwo Jima, Guam, and the fast carriers-was almost complete. Admiral Ugaki, who had started in April with a fleet of more than 4,000 aircraft, was now in June down to about 1,270, of which only 570 were serviceable-and these marked for conventional duty. Only a handful of 9 suggested that attrition of the Fifth Air Fleet-raids from Okinawa, Iwo Jima, Guam, and the fast carriers-was almost complete. Admiral Ugaki, who had started in April with a fleet of more than 4,000 aircraft, was now in June down to about 1,270, of which only 570 were serviceable-and these marked for conventional duty. Only a handful of kamikaze kamikaze remained. Nevertheless this relentless-not to say merciless-air admiral prepared Floating Chrysanthemum 10. With Okinawa already doomed, it was scheduled for June 21-22. remained. Nevertheless this relentless-not to say merciless-air admiral prepared Floating Chrysanthemum 10. With Okinawa already doomed, it was scheduled for June 21-22.

Supposedly fifty-eight to forty-five kamikaze kamikaze had been collected, escorted by an unknown number of fighters. Also aboard were six had been collected, escorted by an unknown number of fighters. Also aboard were six baka baka bombs, Ugaki's masterpiece. How many of them "aborted" and returned to base is not known; but by late June "abortion" was becoming nearly as popular as divine death had been. This last attack of the deadly Floating Chrysanthemums produced only a few near misses while one faithful suicider set the seaplane tender bombs, Ugaki's masterpiece. How many of them "aborted" and returned to base is not known; but by late June "abortion" was becoming nearly as popular as divine death had been. This last attack of the deadly Floating Chrysanthemums produced only a few near misses while one faithful suicider set the seaplane tender Curtis Curtis afire and another struck at afire and another struck at Barry Barry-the previously damaged destroyer-escort converted to decoy duty- as it was being towed to its station by LSM-50-sinking both ships. Meanwhile the baka baka brigade was a complete fizzle: two failed to release from their mother planes and were returned to Kyushu while the other four were either lost when their mother planes were shot down or harmed nothing but a few dozen fishes. Thus the inglorious end of the brigade was a complete fizzle: two failed to release from their mother planes and were returned to Kyushu while the other four were either lost when their mother planes were shot down or harmed nothing but a few dozen fishes. Thus the inglorious end of the kikusui kikusui that were to save j.a.pan. that were to save j.a.pan.

j.a.pan's third Divine Wind had spent itself on the st.u.r.dy ships and stout hearts of the United States Naval Service.

Ushijima's Last Stand

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

It was the month of June, the month of Ushijima's last stand.

Lieutenant General Buckner had redisposed his Tenth Army for the final heave of the war. On the west, or right, flank the Marines' sector had been narrowed. The Sixth Marine Division was going to make a sh.o.r.e-to-sh.o.r.e amphibious a.s.sault on the Oroku Peninsula in the southwest, and the First Marine Division had not the strength to cover the entire Third Corps front.

The Third Corps, in fact, was depleted. With the Second Marine Division sent back to Saipan-rather than kept afloat as a kamikaze kamikaze target-Major General Geiger had not been able to rest either the First or the Sixth. He had no reserve, and the divisions themselves had tried to maintain battle efficiency by resting one regiment while the other two attacked. But it could not always be done. So the Third Corps needed troops, and soon the Eighth Regiment of the Second Marine Division would be brought into Okinawa to furnish them. But this was not until after the Eighth had finished capturing islands to the west of Okinawa to give Admiral Turner long-range radar and fighter-director stations. target-Major General Geiger had not been able to rest either the First or the Sixth. He had no reserve, and the divisions themselves had tried to maintain battle efficiency by resting one regiment while the other two attacked. But it could not always be done. So the Third Corps needed troops, and soon the Eighth Regiment of the Second Marine Division would be brought into Okinawa to furnish them. But this was not until after the Eighth had finished capturing islands to the west of Okinawa to give Admiral Turner long-range radar and fighter-director stations.

The Twenty-fourth Corps was in better shape. Major General Hodge had three divisions-exclusive of the Twenty-seventh on garrison in the north-and had been able to rest one while the other two were attacking. Only infrequently, as in the final days before Shuri, were all three in the line. But from June 4 onward the Twenty-fourth Corps was grinding down on the Yaeju-Yuza Peaks where most of the Thirty-second Army's remnants had holed up. Even General Ushijima was here, conducting the last stand from his headquarters cave just above the ocean.

June 5 was a sad day for General Hodge, for on that date his favorite regimental commander-Colonel Eddy May-fell dead with an enemy machine gunner's bullet through his heart. Hodge had called May "the finest soldier I have ever known," and though he was indeed "a hard 'un," the courageous calm with which he would stand exposed to enemy fire while studying j.a.panese positions was legendary. Two weeks later the Ninety-sixth Division lost another brave leader: Brigadier General Claudius Easley, a.s.sistant division commander. As usual this brave little gamec.o.c.k was up front scouting the enemy, and just as he pointed out an enemy machine gun, a burst from that very weapon pierced his brain.

On the same day that Easley was killed the final Medal of Honor was won on Okinawa. Technical Sergeant John Meagher of the Seventy-seventh's 305th Infantry was mounted on a tank directing its fire when a j.a.panese soldier wielding a satchel charge rushed at him. Dropping to the ground, Meagher bayoneted his a.s.sailant, then ran back to his Sherman to fire a machine gun at a pair of j.a.panese machine guns. Emptying his gun's belt, Meagher seized his thirty-five-pound weapon as though it were a baseball bat to club the remaining enemy gunners to death.