BATTLE NARRATIVE
Fortifications And Diggings. Saipan: 28 June 1944
These “fluid” instructions were delivered to all units of the 4th Marine Division on 28 June 1944: pause the advance and give the 27th Infantry Division a chance to catch up. This did not mean a day of quiet (the Japanese were not subject to American orders, after all) but at least the Marines were free to respond. Although cautioned to remain more or less in place, they were instructed to “support the advance of the 27th Infantry Division by fire” – in other words, shoot up any targets that might get in the way.[2]
Spending the previous afternoon watching Japanese soldiers “flit safely back and forth” did not sit well with BLT 1-24, and neither did the increasing volume of fire directed at their assembly area. At 1215, the battalion reported shells landing on their front lines and command post. The casualty rate, held comfortably low for the past several days, began to tick upwards alarmingly – especially among the medical detachment. Six corpsmen were treated for minor wounds, with two requiring evacuation (HA1c Elmer D. Hamilton and HA1c Billie L. Leavell). This oddly high percentage of Navy casualties might indicate a shell dropping on or near the battalion aid station – one of the few places where corpsmen congregated to replenish supplies. In addition to the six wounded, two more (PhM2c William L. Baker and PhM3c Charles A. Hearn, Jr.) were evacuated on the sick list.
As Able and Baker Companies prepared to jump off, trucks armed with rockets scurried up to support the attack. These light vehicles unleashed an awe-inspiring barrage; a “real introduction” to the weapon’s capabilities, according to 1Lt. Frederic A. Stott. “We had seen those devastating rockets fired before, but never in such quantity,” he wrote. “And the barrage which preceded our attack so completely covered the target area that all the men started grinning and joking; some were even urging on the ‘automatic artillery’ with cheers.” As they ascended the slope, they saw the effect of the barrage: shattered bunkers, trenches, and dead Japanese troops. “The ground was studded with fortifications and diggings,” Stott recalled. “The rockets safeguarded what would have been a costly advance.”[4]
The two lead companies methodically worked their way up the ridge, with Charlie Company following in reserve. There was little opposition in the wake of the rocket barrage. Able Company lost PFC William V. Ellerd wounded, while Gunnery Sergeant Henry Linker of Baker Company fell with bullet wounds in his chest and head. Linker, one of the “old salts” whose service dated back to 1927 and included tours in China, died just two days before his 38th birthday.
Despite these losses, BLT 1-24 scaled the ridge and reached their objective by early evening. On the right, they saw fellow Marines from BLT 3-24 digging in – but to the left, there was nothing but trees. The anticipated Army support did not materialize, and as darkness fell the flank was still “in the air.”
“The biggest mistake they ever made."
PFC Joe R. Griffin and PFC David C. McEwen trusted each other implicitly.
Joe Griffin was Texan through and through, born in Hooks on 20 December 1922 and raised in a succession of small towns as his father followed the shifting job market. Times were tough for the Griffins: seven children to raise, complex medical issues, and inconsistent work kept them at the poverty line for most of Joe’s childhood. In 1931, the family arrived in Austin – then “an overgrown country town” – and moved into an abandoned house that offered little more than working electricity. Joe’s father, Tom Griffin, was a skilled contractor; every construction job built his reputation and kept the family’s finances above water. The Griffins came out of the Depression “not rich, but well-to-do” and Joe was able to graduate from Austin High School. In December 1941, he enrolled at the University of Texas – spending twenty-five dollars on tuition and fifteen on books.[5]
Griffin was, by his own admission, “a very timid boy” in the shadow of a disciplinarian father. He felt called to the ministry, and even transferred to Baylor to study religion, but was too shy to speak to a congregation. The attack on Pearl Harbor was a wakeup call; Griffin withdrew from college and attempted to join the Air Corps, but failed physical after physical. These efforts stiffened his spirit, and in November 1942 Griffin stood before the congregation at Hyde Park Baptist Church and delivered his first sermon. Fortified and confident, he chose the Marine Corps when drafted in February 1943 and passed the physical without breaking a sweat. He arrived in San Diego expecting a rough time in boot camp, and was pleasantly surprised to find he could handle that discipline, too.[6] Private Griffin joined Charlie Company, 24th Marines in August 1943, and was assigned to the weapons platoon.
Dave McEwen was three months older than Griffin, and a native of Minnesota. He grew up on a farm in Brookfield Township, a few miles outside of Hutchinson, before his family moved to Iowa in the late 1930s. McEwen graduated from Webster City High School, where he was a formidable force on the varsity football team, and enrolled at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. After Pearl Harbor he was “anxious to enlist,” but also held an essential job making artillery shells for the war effort and spent another year as a civilian. When he finally arrived at the recruiting office in Des Moines, McEwen found the Marine Corps was plenty anxious to have him.
Boot camp was a rough experience for Private McEwen – especially the creative punishments dreamed up by the drill instructors – but he persevered, even earning recognition and a cash prize as the best marksman in his recruit platoon. His first duty post was an uninspiring stint in Hawthorne, Nevada, guarding a naval ammunition depot and spending his spare time in town – “a gambling area and no girls.” After six months in the desert, he reported to Charlie Company at Camp Pendleton in September 1943. Here he met Joe Griffin, another ammo carrier in the weapons platoon.[7]
Over the course of nine months, Griffin and McEwen became fast friends. They trained together, fought together, and compared the tenets of their faith – Baptist and Assembly of God Pentecostal. The two Marines built a strong bond as foxhole buddies, sharing terrifying moments under fire and keeping watch over each other at night. Their trust in each other was so complete that they could sleep peacefully on the battlefield, knowing the other was close by.
As they prepared their foxhole for the night of 28 June, the two friends kept a nervous eye on a nearby hill. Charlie Company was deployed in a small cane field; not an ideal defensive position, but one that was convenient to the front line if reinforcements were quickly needed. They knew no friendly forces occupied the hill, because they could hear Japanese voices emanating from the trees. A passing officer told them not to worry – “they’re Japanese civilians” – and keep digging. As Griffin went out to collect some fallen sugar cane for camouflage, McEwen checked the time on his treasured Longine watch. Just about 1800 hours.
The first bullet shattered the Longine, drawing blood from McEwen’s wrist. Two more drilled into his left leg. As he fell into the half-finished foxhole, McEwen instinctively looked over at Griffin. The Texan, his chin grazed by a projectile, was turning to run for safety when yet another bullet shattered his right arm. Fortunately, Griffin had enough momentum to reach cover. Not far away, PFC John Hasara Jr. went down with a bullet in his left thigh. Sergeant Mike D. Mervosh hauled Hasara to safety, and caught some shrapnel in his leg. “They had us completely pinned down,” said McEwen. “We couldn’t fire back, we couldn’t do nothing.”[9] The Japanese fusillade lasted just a few minutes; in that time eight Charlie Company Marines were wounded – and it might have been even worse. “They could have killed two hundred Marines, but the only place they fired was on our foxhole,” said Griffin.[10] Machine gun fire also hit the battalion command post, wounding three more men and killing Private Richard H. Hill.
Charlie Company’s mortar officer, 1Lt. J. Murray Fox, quickly brought his tubes to bear on the hill and chased off the Japanese gun crew.[11]Corpsmen rushed to treat the wounded as Charlie Company braced for an attack. David McEwen remembered the near total silence on the line as his wounds were treated. “No-one hardly said a word because we all thought they were gonna attack, but they didn’t. The biggest mistake they ever made,” he said. “You could hear them go through the woods. It took a couple hours for them to clear out.”[12] The wounded Marines spent an uneasy night at the aid station before a jeep carried them off to the hospital. Hasara eventually recovered from his wounds and returned to the company, but Joe Griffin and Dave McEwen would never fight again.
“Whatever happened to Bill Ragsdale?"
This question, first voiced on 28 June 1944, is still being asked today.
Corporal William R. Ragsdale was a tall, thin Tennessean who served as a clerk with BLT 1-24 Headquarters. He had a mind for detail; in school, he favored mathematics and bookkeeping, and used his single semester at Vanderbilt University to develop his skills in mechanical drawing. In 1940, Ragsdale quit school in favor of hands-on learning as an apprentice locomotive mechanic for Louisville & Nashville Railroad. He learned to take apart and re-build steam engines, replace defective parts, and kept careful records of repairs. In January 1942, he married Mina Eloise Friedli; she gave him a gold ring inscribed “Bill from Eloise,” and it became one of his most treasured possessions. Shortly after the wedding, Bill got a better-paying job as a fireman with L&N, and for six months he rode the rails between terminals in St. Louis, New Orleans, Atlanta and Memphis. In August, he quit the railroad and joined the Marine Corps.
Ragsdale quickly became a familiar face to the Marines of Able Company; he worked in the skipper’s office updating the muster roll – and the pay records. “Rags” was well-liked, not just because he handed out the money on payday, but for his genial nature. “He was a great guy,” said fellow clerk Corporal Robert Johnston. Eventually, Ragsdale’s typing skills caught the eye of someone on battalion staff and he transferred to work with Headquarters Company. When his battalion shipped out for combat at Roi-Namur, Ragsdale helped the rear echelon move the battalion’s operations from Camp Pendleton to Camp Maui. Saipan was his first experience in battle.
One morning, Bob Johnston went to check in with Ragsdale and found his foxhole empty. Nobody seemed to know where he was. “It was the weirdest thing. We went looking for him, and he was gone,” Johnston said in 2015. “We figured he went off to fight the war by himself or something. For years at reunions, we’d get together and someone would ask ‘whatever happened to Bill Ragsdale?’ He just took off someplace and we never saw him again.”[14]Johnston always hoped that “Rags” would turn up at a reunion to relive old times and solve the riddle.
As with PFC Robert G. Thompson, Ragsdale’s disappearance was a mystery. Official records conflict as to the date he vanished; muster rolls claim 22 June 1944, while casualty reports state 28 June. He was duly reported as “missing in action,” and carried as such until a “finding of death” was issued on 18 May 1945. The official decision read, in part:
Corporal William Ronald Ragsdale, 433627, was originally reported wounded in action and evacuated from Saipan, Marianas Islands, on 28 June 1944. When a search of all medical facilities failed to locate him, he was changed to missing in action and subsequently to "declared dead" upon receipt of the following recommendation from Division Commander: "The possibility of [his] having been captured is so remote that this Headquarters recommends official determination of death."
Memorial services were held back in Nashville, but Ragsdale’s body was never returned. Eloise Ragsdale tried to accept her loss, and eventually came to terms with Bill’s death. She began searching for his grave shortly before her death in 2007.
Unbeknownst to Bob Johnston or Eloise Ragsdale, an Army Graves Registration detail found the unidentifiable remains of a tall, thin man at an unspecified location on Saipan. The body was brought to the 27th Division Cemetery and checked for identification, but none was present. On 6 July 1944, “Unknown X-6” was buried in Grave 441, with his only belongings wrapped in a Red Cross bag – a plain gold wedding band inscribed “Bill from Eloise.”[15]
Today, X-6 is buried in Plot L, Row 6, Grave 142 of the Manila American Cemetery.
Corporal William R. Ragsdale is still officially unaccounted for.
[1] Carl W. Hoffman, Saipan: The Beginning of the End (Washington, DC: Headquarters, Historical Division US Marine Corps, 1950), 179.
[2] “Report of RCT-24,” 28 August 1944, in Operations Report, 4th Marine Division, Saipan, Annex I (San Diego: Headquarters, 4th Marine Division, 3 October 1944). Hereafter RCT 24 Final Report.
[3] While Brunelli’s tenure with BLT 1-24 was very successful, it was only ever intended as a temporary assignment. Lessing, the executive officer of the 20th Marines, was apparently being vetted for permanent command and eventually succeeded Brunelli on 4 July. In his monograph history of Saipan, Carl Hoffman offers an alternate timeline stating that Lessing was serving with BLT 3-24 from 29 June to 3 July (standing in for Lt. Col. Alexander A. Vandegrift, Jr.) however this is not supported by muster rolls for either battalion (Hoffman, Saipan, 181).
[4] Frederic A. Stott, “Saipan Under Fire” (Andover: Frederic Stott, 1945), 13.
[5] Joe R. Griffin, oral history interview conducted by Mike Zambrano, Nimitz Education and Research Center, National Museum of the Pacific War, Fredericksburg, TX.
[6] Ibid.
[7] David C. McEwen, oral history interview conducted by Timothy McEwen, David Clark McEwen Collection (AFC/2001/001/05256), Veterans History Project, American Folklife Center, Library of Congress.
[8] Joe Griffin interview.
[9] David McEwen interview.
[10] Joe Griffin interview.
[11] Pastor Joe R. Griffin, telephone interview with the author, February 2014. In recounting this story, Griffin insisted that “the mortars saved us.”
[12] David McEwen interview.
[13] Gregg Stoner, Hardcore Iron Mike, Conqueror of Iwo Jima (Bloomington: iUniverse, 2015), 47.
[14] Robert Johnston, interview with the author, August 2015.
[15] Individual Deceased Personnel File, “Unknown X-6, 27th Division Cemetery, Saipan” Washington National Records Center, Suitland, MD.
Battalion Daily Report
Casualties, Evacuations, Joinings & Transfers
KIA/DOW
WIA & EVAC*
SICK
JOINED
TRANSFERRED
STRENGTH
Out of an original landing strength of 888 officers and men.
* Does not include minor wounds not requiring evacuation from the line.
| Name | Company | Rank | Role | Change | Cause | Disposition |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Baker, William Leroy | Headquarters | PhM2c | Corpsman | Sick | Unknown | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Cox, Lowell Douglas | Charlie | PFC | Rifleman | Wounded In Action | Gunshot, right arm & leg | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Culp, Jerry Harvey | Headquarters | Technical Sergeant | Radio Chief | Wounded In Action | Gunshot, right thigh | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Ellerd, William Vernon | Able | PFC | Messenger | Wounded In Action | Unknown (serious) | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Griffin, Joe Ray | Charlie | PFC | Machine Gunner | Wounded In Action | Gunshot, compound fracture right arm | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Guyett, James Raphael | Headquarters | PhM1c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Hamilton, Elmer Dee | Headquarters | HA1c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Hasara, John Jr. | Charlie | PFC | Machine Gunner | Wounded In Action | Gunshot, left thigh | Evacuated to USS Bountiful |
| Hearn, Charles Albert Jr. | Headquarters | PhM3c | Corpsman | Sick | Unknown | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Hermansen, Francis Jack | Charlie | PFC | Rifleman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Hernan, Thomas Walter Jr. | Headquarters | HA2c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Hill, Richard Hamilton | Headquarters | Private | BARman | Killed In Action | Gunshot, abdomen | Removed for burial |
| Leavell, Billie Lee | Headquarters | HA1c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Lessing, Otto | Headquarters | Lieutenant Colonel | Assistant Battalion CO | Joined | Relieving BnCO | To HQ Company |
| Linker, Henry | Baker | Gunnery Sergeant | Gunnery Sergeant | Killed In Action | Gunshot, head & chest | Removed for burial |
| McEwen, David Clark | Charlie | PFC | Machine Gunner | Wounded In Action | Gunshot, left wrist & leg | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Mervosh, Mike Dush | Charlie | Sergeant | MG Squad Leader | Wounded In Action | Shrapnel, leg | Not evacuated |
| Murrell, Samuel "B." | Headquarters | HA1c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Ragsdale, William Ronald | Headquarters | Corporal | Clerk | Missing In Action | Unknown | To MIA status |
| Risberg, Harold Anderson | Charlie | PFC | Basic | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Tellier, Maurice Arthur | Headquarters | PhM3c | Corpsman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Not evacuated |
| Tofany, Benedict Francis | Headquarters | PFC | Lineman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Evacuated, destination unknown |
| Vahle, Eugene | Charlie | PFC | Mortarman | Wounded In Action | Unknown (slight) | Evacuated, destination unknown |
