Hell in the Pacific: A Marine Rifleman's Journey From Guadalcanal to Peleliu by Bill Sloan, Jim McEnery Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bill Sloan, Jim McEnery
just six weeks—including travel time.
And that, in so many words, is how I happened to be in that godforsaken place called Guadalcanal.
Along with the rest of K/3/5, I’d be there for a little over four months. They were four months that seemed more like four years.
When they were over, a lot of the guys I’d shared foxholes and swapped stories with were dead, and those of us who managed to leave Guadalcanal alive would never be the same again.
If there was any kid left in me, I lost him right there.
DISASTER AT SEA, SLAUGHTER ASHORE
A T FIRST LIGHT on August 8 (D-Day-plus-1), Lieutenant Adams got the word from K Company headquarters and passed it along to everybody in the First Platoon. “The whole company’s going on a recon patrol as a unit,” he said. “We’ll check out the area to our immediate front. If everything looks okay, we may form a new line farther west.”
The first thought that popped into my head was: Oh crap, sounds like we’re in for more digging!
About 9 AM, we moved out and proceeded very cautiously to the southwest. Despite the fact that our mission was supposed to be strictly reconnaissance and not combat, we were all on high alert. But we still didn’t see or hear any sign of enemy ground activity.
We advanced maybe 1,500 yards, using the undergrowth and coconut palms for cover and staying within sight of the beach. After that, we stopped for a break, then started retracing our path back toward our original defense line.
We were nearly there when a formation of Jap Zeros and Betty bombers suddenly showed up.
It was about 12:30 PM, almost exactly the same time as the first Nip air raid the day before. The Zeros were flying real low, and this time we had enough sense to either take cover or hit the deck where we were. But just like on the first raid, these planes didn’t have the slightest interest in us. They were looking for bigger game out in Sealark Channel.
They never slowed down or gave us a second look, but one of the Zeros flew directly over me, and I swear he wasn’t over fifteen or twenty feet above the tops of some of the coconut palms.
For a second, I could see the pilot as clear as if he was sitting across a table from me. He was the first Jap I’d ever gotten a close look at. He was wearing goggles, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but the grin on his face looked like it was a foot wide.
So this is what a Jap looks like, I thought. I wonder if the ones on the ground look the same way.
The bombers did a little better job this time around than they had on their first raid. They brought the unloading of our supply ships to a standstill and scored a major hit on the USS George Elliott , a transport carrying most of the supplies intended for the Second Battalion, First Marines. They left the Elliott blazing from stem to stern. It was damaged too bad to be saved and finally had to be scuttled.
Except for that, nothing much happened on our patrol that second morning. We did manage to pick up a few supplies off the beach, but otherwise it was a dry run. By 1 PM, we were back at our original line and still waiting to see something happen on the ground.
W HILE WE WERE patrolling the beach, the First Marines were moving toward the airfield. Along the way, they made a couple of very important discoveries.
For one thing, the jungle undergrowth was almost impenetrable in some places. You could chop at it for hours and never seem to make any headway. There were giant trees in it with trunks as tough as steel and as wide as a tank was long with vines as thick as a man’s thigh wrapped around them.
For another thing, the maps we’d been given were all fouled up. They weren’t worth a damn for anything, except maybe toilet paper. If you tried to follow them, you were sure to get lost.
The First Marines’ mission that day of seizing the airfield was a lot more critical than ours was in K/3/5. But because of the thick jungle and bad maps, the First got seriously bogged down
And that, in so many words, is how I happened to be in that godforsaken place called Guadalcanal.
Along with the rest of K/3/5, I’d be there for a little over four months. They were four months that seemed more like four years.
When they were over, a lot of the guys I’d shared foxholes and swapped stories with were dead, and those of us who managed to leave Guadalcanal alive would never be the same again.
If there was any kid left in me, I lost him right there.
DISASTER AT SEA, SLAUGHTER ASHORE
A T FIRST LIGHT on August 8 (D-Day-plus-1), Lieutenant Adams got the word from K Company headquarters and passed it along to everybody in the First Platoon. “The whole company’s going on a recon patrol as a unit,” he said. “We’ll check out the area to our immediate front. If everything looks okay, we may form a new line farther west.”
The first thought that popped into my head was: Oh crap, sounds like we’re in for more digging!
About 9 AM, we moved out and proceeded very cautiously to the southwest. Despite the fact that our mission was supposed to be strictly reconnaissance and not combat, we were all on high alert. But we still didn’t see or hear any sign of enemy ground activity.
We advanced maybe 1,500 yards, using the undergrowth and coconut palms for cover and staying within sight of the beach. After that, we stopped for a break, then started retracing our path back toward our original defense line.
We were nearly there when a formation of Jap Zeros and Betty bombers suddenly showed up.
It was about 12:30 PM, almost exactly the same time as the first Nip air raid the day before. The Zeros were flying real low, and this time we had enough sense to either take cover or hit the deck where we were. But just like on the first raid, these planes didn’t have the slightest interest in us. They were looking for bigger game out in Sealark Channel.
They never slowed down or gave us a second look, but one of the Zeros flew directly over me, and I swear he wasn’t over fifteen or twenty feet above the tops of some of the coconut palms.
For a second, I could see the pilot as clear as if he was sitting across a table from me. He was the first Jap I’d ever gotten a close look at. He was wearing goggles, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but the grin on his face looked like it was a foot wide.
So this is what a Jap looks like, I thought. I wonder if the ones on the ground look the same way.
The bombers did a little better job this time around than they had on their first raid. They brought the unloading of our supply ships to a standstill and scored a major hit on the USS George Elliott , a transport carrying most of the supplies intended for the Second Battalion, First Marines. They left the Elliott blazing from stem to stern. It was damaged too bad to be saved and finally had to be scuttled.
Except for that, nothing much happened on our patrol that second morning. We did manage to pick up a few supplies off the beach, but otherwise it was a dry run. By 1 PM, we were back at our original line and still waiting to see something happen on the ground.
W HILE WE WERE patrolling the beach, the First Marines were moving toward the airfield. Along the way, they made a couple of very important discoveries.
For one thing, the jungle undergrowth was almost impenetrable in some places. You could chop at it for hours and never seem to make any headway. There were giant trees in it with trunks as tough as steel and as wide as a tank was long with vines as thick as a man’s thigh wrapped around them.
For another thing, the maps we’d been given were all fouled up. They weren’t worth a damn for anything, except maybe toilet paper. If you tried to follow them, you were sure to get lost.
The First Marines’ mission that day of seizing the airfield was a lot more critical than ours was in K/3/5. But because of the thick jungle and bad maps, the First got seriously bogged down
Similar Books
Bite Me
Donaya Haymond
First Class Menu
Aj Harmon, Christopher Harmon
Tourist Season
Carl Hiaasen
All Good Women
Valerie Miner
Stiff
Mary Roach
Tell Me True
Karpov Kinrade
Annabella's Oblivion (Hard World Tour #1)
V. F. Mason
Edge of Eternity
Ken Follett
Lord of Misrule
Alix Bekins