The night before an invasion is the hardest on a man. For you realize that out there somewhere is the beach you are to hit. We have hit enough of these beaches to know all types, but each one is a little different.[1] We can hear the big guns of the ships as they blast away and see glows in the sky from the fires on the islands that our bombs and shells have started. You thank God that you are on the sending end of those bombs and shells rather than on the receiving end.

We are frightened more at the thought of succumbing to fear than fear of the enemy; I know that my greatest fear is always that for some reason I would be unable to do what I considered my part of the job. We spend the night before “D” morning waiting. We sleep (or at least I do) even though it is only a half sleep.

The day was beautiful for “D” day on Saipan.[2] Very early we went below and got into the tractors that were to take us ashore. All the men were in a wonderful mood. All laughing and joking. As close friends do not always ride the same tractors, you would hear some lad tell his buddy he would “meet him on the Relief.”[3] Then they opened the doors and lowered the ramp. As each tractor pulled out the remaining men would yell, “See you on the beach.” Soon all tractors from our L.S.T. were in the water. Then began the long wait until time to go in. Our L.S.T. pulled away and we circled among other tractors for some time. Soon our wave was found and moved into line.

Robby and I have an odd greeting we always use.[4] Seems to relieve a lot. We give the Nazi salute with these words, “In case we lose.” I looked at my watch and could see we had six minutes before we started for the beach. I looked for Robby’s tractor [and] after a few minutes I saw him. He must have had the same idea for I caught his eye, up went our arms in Hitler’s salute. Of course we could not hear words. Words were not necessary, to us that meant “Good luck, buddy, God be with you!” I saw the boats (amphibious tractors) lining up abreast and knew the time was near.

We headed for the beach. You could hear bolts of rifles go back and push a round into the chamber. The boys in my tractor asked me if they could smoke another cigarette. The rules say no smoking in the boats, but we all lit up. The smoke was short for we were on our way and the spray from the bow soon put all our cigarettes out. I put a round into the chamber of my .45 and then put another in the magazine. That gave me nine shots before a refill. Did the same with my rifle. I know that officers are to carry carbines but I still like that M1 rifle. When I shoot a Jap I want him to stop right there.[5]

We hit the coral reef around the island. The going was slower then. The coral was rough as the tractor rocked from side to side. Quite a different rock from the steady roll of the waves.[6]

Our thoughts were soon taken from that however, for a Jap shell hit nearby and their machine guns were firing at us. We kept low in the tractor and soon made the beach.

As the officer in command of my tractor I was determined to be the first out. Therefore as soon as we hit the sand I went over the side. As I jumped out a big wave drenched me and my equipment. That was just the first of many soakings I received on Saipan. Even so I hit the deck and succeeded in getting sand all over me. Thank God my weapons still worked. The beach was crowded for the first three waves had ridden on over the beach entrenchments and on to the high ground fifteen hundred yards beyond.[7] They must have caught the Japs by surprise for they sure came to life to meet the fourth and fifth waves. They kept us pinned there for a while but then we were able to move in a few hundred yards.

To the left of where our tractor landed the Japs had a 75mm field piece [and] this they had fired at us as we came in. Now it was silent so someone moved over toward it. The gun itself was out of order, but its crew turned sniper on us. They shot for a while. Then like all good Japs they quit shooting for they were dead from American bullets and grenades.

The field between the beach and the high ground we had seized remained a hot spot all during “D” day. The Japs sitting in the mountains with powerful glasses could read the numbers on our uniforms. And they kept the field under artillery fire. Each time troops or vehicles started across they brought this fire on themselves. I lost two Jeeps and trailers in that field. No drivers, however. Just before dark I managed to get water, chow and ammunition up to our battalion. I believe ours was the first to receive replenishment of supplies.

The beach was one hot spot “D” and “D plus 1” days. The Japs really had the range on us. Each time tractors came in they shelled us. Hamby, Van and I worked through it all, going into foxholes only when they began getting too close.[8]

“D” night was rather hard for that is when some units drew back.[9] We never gave an inch. That was when our battalion began to make its name. For on the island of Saipan this outfit began to write a history all its own. I am proud of the reputation we bear.

After “D plus 1” we began to move on across the island. We were the first to cross. For one night we were the only outfit touching the eastern shores of Saipan. We got there and there we stayed.

By this time I had my transportation in hand. You see, I landed 5 jeeps and trailers. Two were blown up by Jap shells. One wrecked by a tractor so I had two left. Not much to move with. This problem was solved by the Japs. We began a search for Jap vehicles which we could be able to make run. I accused McFadden (my mechanic) of going behind the Jap lines for vehicles.[10] In a few days, we had the following Jap vehicles running: three trucks, one bus, one automobile, and two motorcycles. These helped a lot but the Japs just cannot make good equipment. Frankly their trucks are just junk, but they helped when we needed them most.

About this time we were near the airfield and began to find Jap sake.[11] So far as I can tell this is a rice wine with the kick of a mule. I believe the drinking of this sake is what gives the Jap his courage to die rather than surrender. When they make their famous Banzai attacks they are all hopped up on sake. I told my boys that we had work to do and did not have time to get drunk, but that a little sake might help us go on. That is the way they drank. They had their sake and did their work. I am so proud of them.

After we took our section on the eastern shore, we reorganized somewhat and began the drive to the north. That was a slow job, for high above us the Jap had the mountain. In each cave or hole snipers hid only to come out at night or shoot at some small groups who came near. There must still be some there. Slowly but surely we moved on until the job was done.

Our outfit was taken out of the line for a few days and that is when I wrote you first.[12] We (our battalion) became the Corps Reserve. We were all happy at first for we thought it meant rest but soon found it different. We marched up and down the mountain at least six times.[13] The boys became so tired of marching that they were griping to get back in the lines. Their wish was granted very soon.

We moved back into the line on the eastern side of the island and we soon were in the thick of it. The second day after our return we drew some very rough terrain. On the northern half of the island are some cliffs. Three in all; each rising above a flat table-land. We drew the top cliff. [14] We moved through this territory, finding many Japs in the caves. Some surrendered, some we missed, the rest died. That night we had a Banzai attack.[15]

Just at dark the men were digging in for the night. They had just drawn their water and chow. Hamby had two Jeeps with ammo at [the] E Company line. I had two just back of them. We were going to deliver the ammo and take prisoners back. These prisoners were civilians.[16] All at once we hear this blood-curdling cry, “Banzai!” This means “Blood for the Emperor!” The Japs charged. Some of our lads were caught off guard, but not many. My Jeeps were in no man’s land. Well, we left them there. The Marines soon formed a line a few yards behind the Jeeps and began that in which they have no equal. Liquidating Japs! They threw hand grenades by the hundreds. I soon saw that we were running low. I took our two remaining Jeeps and took a never to be forgotten ride back to the Regimental Ammo dump. We of course could not use lights. The moon was not very bright yet. The only thing that resembled a road ran along the lines. This was the only way we knew to the main road, so we took it.

Through the sniper-infested hills, over the roughest roads you can imagine, we rode. I had my pistol in hand, cocked and ready as we rode. That three miles we covered, I believe one mile on land and the other two by air, but we made it and returned with the death-dealing hand grenades, together with other ammo needed. The charge was over but a few more Japs joined their ancestors as the night wore on. When morning came there was nearly a hundred lying between where our lines formed and my Jeeps (about 30 yards).[17]

That was a night of heroes. I will tell you of Lt. Jim Taylor, Ex-Officer of E (Easy) Co. We call him “Jungle Jim.” He walked before his company as the Japs came, throwing hand grenades and shouting, “Give them hell, Easy Company, you’re doing swell!” Things like that are what make Marines the outfit they are.[18]

My poor Jeeps were riddled with holes. Eight flat tires, but the motors still ran. In a couple of days “Big Bill” Freeman and the gang had them ready to go again.[19]

In case you wonder how my Jeeps had grown from 2 to 6 – that was a sort of private deal between some army units and my boys. In fact, so private the Army did not even know about it.

Don’t let my reference to roads be misleading. On Saipan a trail was any place wide enough for a Jeep or truck to pass through. After five vehicles had taken a given route it became a road. The engineers followed right behind us widening and smoothing the roads for better use. They even had scrapers with armor plate enclosing the driver’s seat.

From our position where we received the Banzai attack we moved on north until we looked down upon the airfield on the northern tip.[20] There our mortars had a picnic. The Japs left on the island were there and they had plenty of sake. The moon was bright and you could see them run out of buildings, bottles and sabers in hand. When a group would gather we would drop a few rounds from the mortars among than. That ended the party for that group.

The next day we moved down on the airfield. Our battalion is reported to have been the first on the field.[21] Then began the hardest job in a soldier’s life. Killing men when he knows they don’t have a chance.

North of the airfield there are a few hundred yards of thick undergrowth. In this undergrowth there are many caves. Into these caves the remaining Japs had gone. We took interpreters down and invited them to surrender. We let those come out that would. Then there remained only one answer to the problem – slaughter!

We rested here at the northern end of Saipan for two days. Had Church services to thank God for his protection and guidance. Then we started back to our rest area, mopping up caves as we went. That night we slept in a sort of pass where there is no road; therefore it is seldom used. During the night we killed 34 Japs trying to use that pass to find hiding places. We reached our rest area the next day and began making the place livable and preparing for our assault on Tinian.

As usual the QM’s work is never done, for everyone needed everything. Uncle Sam gives his soldiers lots of good equipment, but the foot soldier finds it impossible to carry the equipment and fight, so he fights and equipment is left behind. When the battle is over you find that most men have their weapon (in perfect condition), plenty of ammo, helmet, canteens, poncho, and the clothes on his back. This much, never more. Therefore he must be reequipped. That is my job. I did my job.

Saipan is finished. We await the orders to go to Tinian. They came and we made ready.