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BATTLE NARRATIVE

“We Were Told It Was Going To Be Easy” Preparing for Tinian

Private First Class John C. Pope reclined in his foxhole, pencil in hand, and wondered what to tell his sister Mary about the previous month. “Sorry I haven’t written sooner. Just couldn’t help it,” he began. “I guess you has figured out by now that I am on Saipan. We had quite a time here for a while.”

Quite a time. How could he say more? How could he describe a Japanese soldier killing himself with a grenade just yards away and seeing the man’s hand land at the feet of a sergeant next to him? The NCO, who was using his Ka-Bar to eat his breakfast, stabbed the hand, flipped it back over his shoulder, and went right on eating. So did everyone else. There was no way to explain it, and he had no desire to try. “Maby before many more months this whole thing will be over,” Pope continued, wrestling with his spelling. “Jim is sitting here beside me playing cards. Says to tell you hello. He lost all his cloths an is wareing mine.”[1] Pope had lost weight, buddies, and innocence on Saipan, but not his sense of humor.

The 24th Marines were bivouacked on a former battlefield where some had fought back in June. Their quarters made even the earliest memories of primitive Camp Maui seem like a luxury. “Although tents have been provided for officers, troops have fashioned shelters from odd pieces of tin or wood, shelter halves, and ponchos, giving an oddly disreputable appearance to the bivouac,” noted the regiment’s journal. “It looks like a hobo settlement.”[2] Appearances didn’t matter to the men who lived there. “You should see the nice foxhole we got built,” bragged Pope. “Got a lid on it and everything.”[3] Corpsman Walter Dodd was pleased with his “flyproof, rainproof foxhole…. It’s about two feet deep lined with corrugated roofing iron with a rounded roof high enough to sit up in.” He was especially grateful to have a quiet place to take off his shoes – the first time he’d done so since landing on Saipan.[4]

Fly-proofed tent galleys were among the few amenities, and “hot chow is served three times daily, in welcome contrast to scant, tasteless, monotonous field rations.”[5] Pope offered a riposte: “They served us some cold mashed potatoes and green beans with something that was to pass as beef,” but had to admit that even this meager fare was better than canned C-ration hash.[6] Some Marines had trouble adjusting to real food after subsisting on iron rations for a solid month. Mike Mervosh came down with a thundering case of dysentery: “I blamed it on the first hot meal I got after the island was secured. Chili. I didn’t eat it for a long time [afterwards]. Those flies would get in the mess gear and you couldn’t shoo them; you had to pick them away.”[7]

Many sick Marines who had quietly suffered through combat finally went to see the surgeon, and a startling number were sent off to hospitals. “Dysentery and dengue fever is widespread throughout Combat Team 24, with a dozen or more cases going to the field hospital daily,” admitted the regimental journal. “Scores of lesser cases are being treated by battalion medical officers.” These losses were modestly offset by men returning from those same hospitals, many sporting white bandages or pink scars from recent wounds. However, the flow of manpower was mostly an ebb tide, as the journal noted: “Effective strength of the 24th Marines is almost 50 percent of that which it landed with a month ago.”[8]

Marines diagnosed with dengue fever report to the Fourth Medical Battalion on Saipan. USMC photo by A. J. Morejohn.

Half of a regiment becoming casualties within a month is shocking enough on paper. For the fighting men of the Fourth Marine Division, this ratio meant much more. “To say the least, we were badly hurt,” said PFC Alva R. Perry. “I was personally exhausted from our fighting on Saipan. I had lost thirty pounds and seen many of my good friends killed or wounded.”[9] Of the 231 Able Company Marines who landed on June 15, only 102 made it to the bivouac on July 13. Baker Company was even worse off; only 86 men remained from its original strength. All companies had recently received replacements, but these men were still of unknown quality to the combat veterans.

For a short while, emphasis was placed on rest and recuperation. “We had a break of about three or four days in which we did nothing,” recalled PFC Robert D. Price. The occasional working party was required – Price spent some time carrying stretcher cases to Aslito Airfield for evacuation – and the regiment sent out patrols to monitor the coast along Magicienne Bay.[10] Patrols and outpost defenses around the bivouac were necessary, “as a lost enemy soldier or sailor turns up occasionally, usually at night.”[11] John Pope wrote of one evening when “a couple of the guys scared up a few Japs and stampeded them right over us. I just sat up and looked around with one eye open and watched them go by. Jim slept right on.”[12] The interlopers were usually looking for food or water, but some had hostile intent. PFC Dwyer Duncan would creep off at night and light up a cigarette, drawing Japanese soldiers “like moths to a flame,” in the words of correspondent Jim Lucas. “They won’t shoot at you,” Duncan explained. “They try to get close enough to throw a grenade, and I count on my ability to spot them first. You’d be surprised how far away you can see them crawling toward you if you pick a good spot in advance.” Duncan claimed to have killed seven soldiers, including two ranking officers, using his patented trick.[13]

For days, John Pope and his buddies watched “a battery of heavy artillery lobbing shells over to the island of Tinian, clearly visible only a few miles away. That made it easy for us to guess our next objective, but we tried to ignore the shelling… We were thinking, surely the will not send us there.” A battalion assembly dashed hopes for a reprieve. “We were told it was going to be easy because we had already wiped out most of their defense force on Saipan,” Pope continued. “Obviously, [the Japanese] knew we were coming and would have a reception planned… They had probably watched the battle on Saipan with their field glasses and knew they were next.”[14] On July 17, Division Operating Order 34-44 was completed and announced to all hands. Its contents were unwelcome, but hardly surprising.

“Jig Day” on Tinian was set for July 24, 1944 – just one week away – and for the first and only time in the Pacific War, BLT 1-24 would be in the initial assault. Captain Irving Schechter (A Co) was summoned to a meeting with the regimental commander, Colonel Franklin Hart. “Schechter, I like the way your company operates,” Hart declared. “I’d like to have Company A lead the assault on Tinian. How would you like to go in?” If this sudden familiarity caught the captain off guard, he recovered quickly. “Well, Colonel, I’d like to land with my entire company in one wave,” he said. “This way I’ll have my riflemen, mortars and machine gunners all ashore at the same time.” Hart thought for a moment. “Schechter, that sounds like a good idea. I think I’ll land the whole regiment in company waves.”[15]

Heavy artillery of the US Army providing fire support to Tinian, July 1944.

This decision was not entirely due to Schechter’s input. Tinian presented a unique terrain challenge. Almost all of the coastline is dominated by cliffs or coral shelving rising straight out of the sea, with heights ranging from six to 100 feet. The only sandy stretch with a gentle slope lay along the southwestern shore beside Tinian Town – and, of course, this was where the Japanese garrison prepared the heaviest defenses.[16] To the northwest near Ushi Point, two gaps in the cliff caught the attention of American planners and were designated as White Beach One and Two. V Amphibious Corps decided to land the entire invasion force over these two beaches. The larger, White Two, was 160 yards across; RCT-25 would be able to land two companies at once, and bring in supporting waves fairly quickly. White One – assigned to RCT-24 – was just sixty yards of sand, less than the frontage required to land even a single company. Captain John F. Ross, Jr’s Easy Company would be first ashore on White One, followed seven minutes later by Schecther’s Able Company.

Aerial view of Beach White 1, Tinian
Aerial view of Beach White 2, Tinian
Tinian's inhospitable northern coastline was dominated by rocky cliffs. USMC photo by Walker.

The next several days were a whirlwind of activity. Platoons, squads, and teams were in dire need of reorganization. “We had two machine gun squads,” said PFC Howard M. Kerr. “Each squad [originally] had eight men, two on the gun, five ammunition carriers [and a squad leader]. One other guy and myself were the only two left out of eight. I started out an ammunition carrier and ended upon the gun. There was just twelve of us left out of 60 men [in the platoon].”[17] The rifle platoons were in no better shape: “My squad had five people out of twelve,” recalled PFC Lionel “Pappy” Salazar.[18] New faces fleshed out the ranks; thirteen percent of Charlie Company was replacements, while  in Able and Baker Companies the ratio rose to nearly one in four. A handful of men were pulled from regimental headquarters, including several who had served with the First Battalion at Camp Pendleton or Namur. Marines from non-combat roles found themselves assigned to front-line duty. “We were fighting with replacements consisting of cooks and office personnel,” remarked Sergeant Oscar T. Hanson. “These were men I would call heroes. They would say to me, ‘Sergeant, tell me what you want me to do, I will serve to the best of my ability. And they did!”[19]

“We spent that time getting new people, training them, and getting additional equipment,” continued Kerr, “and we did some boat training. We practiced working with DUKWs and tracked landing vehicles.”[20] Hydrographic conditions at White One were dismal; in addition to the narrowness of the beach, a fringing coral reef at least sixty yards wide made landing by boat impossible. Tracked vehicles, though, could crawl up and over the reef with little difficulty. The Northern Troops Landing Force (NLTF) created a Provisional LVT Group by rounding up every serviceable amphibian tractor on Saipan, totaling 450 vehicles from Marine and Army units, and added 132 amphibious trucks (DUKWs) and 68 LVTA amphibious tanks.[21] Every company in RCT-24 was allocated eight LVTs – the most that the beach could accommodate at one time – and even then, some troops would have to scramble over the coral ledges to get ashore. The regiment’s experience with LVTs thus far was disheartening; too few tractors were available at Namur and Saipan, causing confusion and last-minute changes of plan.[22] Furthermore, BLT 1-24 had never landed from LVTs under combat conditions. The timetable allowed “no opportunity for rehearsal,” so troops consistently practiced with the same crews in the exact order and arrangement they would use on Jig Day.[23]

LVTs and DUKWs on the Tinian beaches. USMC photograph by Theo Hios.

Even with the recent replacements, all companies in BLT 1-24 were well below their authorized strength and the command structure was shattered. Lieutenant Colonel Otto Lessing approved a slate of promotions for corporals and sergeants, all of whom had shown leadership ability on Saipan. The officers were on the lookout for potential “mustangs” – enlisted Marines who would receive commissions. PFC John Pope was called for a “rare consultation” on the matter by his former company commander. Captain George D. Webster told Pope that a certain sergeant was on the short list, and asked his opinion of the man. “Now Pope, don’t concern yourself about speaking behind the sergeant’s ear,” he said. “You know how important leadership is in combat, and you’ve had plenty of time to see him in action.” Pope certainly had: it was the same NCO who had panicked under fire on June 18, the day his buddy Billy Skeens was killed.

I just came out with it: “Hell no.” I told him the man is all right as long as he had an officer to tell him what to do and take responsibility for the consequences, but on his own he goes to pieces…. We didn’t need that kind of crap. We needed leadership.
PFC John C. Pope
HQ/1/24th Marines

Webster was surprised, but listened to Pope’s retelling of the sergeant’s poor performance. “[He] thanked me and went on his way,” Pope recalled. “I do not know who got the field commission, but I know one sergeant that didn’t.”[24]

"Marine PFC Richard O. Knisley, son of Mr. & Mrs. Harold G. Knisley, River Rouge, Michigan, kneels in prayer at his brother's grave on Saipan. His brother, PFC Glen H. Knisley, was killed while hunting snipers out of caves in the last days of fighting on the island. Surviving is Mrs. [June P.] Knisley, 73 Elm Street, River Rouge."

Before shipping out, many Marines visited their fallen friends. On July 15, 1944, Major General Clifton Cates formally dedicated the Fourth Marine Division Cemetery on Saipan, just a few dozen yards from one of the western beaches. Some remembered fighting over that very ground – “I spent three hours there, pinned down by enemy guns and the explosion of our own ammunition trucks,” said 2Lt. Jim Lucas – and the transformation was impressive.[25] Graves registration troops built smooth, rock-lined pathways between plots, landscaped the natural vegetation, and painted a sign in the shape of a large number “4” to welcome visitors. Row after row of neat white headboards, spaced at regulation distances over carefully mounded sand, were stark reminders of the island’s cost. After Cates’ remarks and a multi-faith memorial service, men wandered along the rows looking for familiar names. “Yesterday, a month to the hour, I went back to the beach where we landed & covered the ground that was so hard to get over then,” wrote Walter Dodd. “Went to attend the funeral ceremony, an awful lot of our boys down there. Strange how they were picked, and we were left.”[26]

Photographer SSgt. Maurice Garber spotted a Marine kneeling beside the grave of PFC Glen H. Knisley. Eighteen-year-old PFC Richard O. Knisley followed his big brother into the Marine Corps, fought on Namur and Saipan with Easy Company, 23rd Marines, and had just learned of Glen’s death. “His brother was killed while hunting snipers out of caves in the last days of fighting on the island,” Garber noted in his caption.[27] In the background, rows of LVTs assembled for the next operation offered a stark reminder that the war was far from over. PFC James E. Drury may have visited the Second Marine Division Cemetery to search for his younger brother, Jaunice, killed in action on July 9 while serving with Easy Company, 2nd Marines. The Drury boys enlisted together in 1942, giving false ages: James was sixteen, and Jaunice just fourteen. Knisley and Drury had to swallow their grief; neither would be exempted from the coming battle.

At 0700 on July 23, the first elements of RCT-24 broke camp and began marching towards the assembly area near Beach Yellow One. Embarkation went like clockwork: the LVTs were lined up “in a wave formation identical to the proposed landing scheme,” and rumbled down to the sand in groups of eight. “As each unit arrived in the assembly area, it was loaded in its respective LVT group and proceeded without delay to its assigned LST,” explained the regiment’s operation report. “Since the arrival of units had been staggered, no confusion in loading resulted.”[28] Easy and Able, as the first two infantry companies to land, boarded LST-486; the balance of BLT 1-24 would launch from LSTs 461 and 120.[29] When the last of the infantry had climbed the nets and the last LVTs clanked onto the loading deck, the ships closed their big bow doors and moved to assigned berths offshore of Charan Kanoa. Other elements of the Fourth Marine Division were following similar procedures all along Saipan’s west coast. “The troops found it good to feel a deck beneath their feet again, to be able to lie down on something other than ground,” noted the 24th Marines’ war diary.[30]

Summarizing the operation with the benefit of hindsight, the Fourth Marine Division official report could confidently state “with the employment of experienced amphibious units, the availability of unusual artillery support from Saipan, the effectiveness of the preliminary bombardment, and the complete mutual understanding and cooperation of all personnel involved, success of the landing attack was assured.”[31] This assurance was not universal as the sun dipped below the horizon on July 23, 1944. “I decided to sleep down below with the amphibious tanks that we were to ride into the beach the next morning,” remembered Alva Perry. “Needless to say, I slept very little. It was estimated that it would take two weeks of the same kind of combat we had just finished on Saipan. This was not what John Wayne had promised in the movies.”[32]

Table Of Contents

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Jig Day

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Footnotes
  1. John Pope, letter to Mary Pope 18 July 1944. Reproduced in Angel On My Shoulder, chap. 17
  2. Walter I. Jordan, “24th Marines War Diary, 1 April 1944 – 30 September 1944,” (14 October 1944), entry dated 14-20 July1944. Hereafter 24th Marines War Diary (April-September 1944).
  3. Pope letter, 18 July 1944.
  4. Dodd, Hero Unaware, 145. Letter dated 16 July 1944.
  5. 24th Marines War Diary (April-September 1944), entry dated 14-20 July 1944.
  6. Pope, chap. 17.
  7. Mervosh, 2008 interview.
  8. 24th Marines War Diary (April-September 1944), entry dated 14-20 July1944.
  9. Perry, “The Men Of ‘A’ Company.”
  10. Price interview.
  11. 24th Marines War Diary (April-September 1944), entry dated 13 July 1944.
  12. Pope letter, 18 July 1944.
  13. Jim G. Lucas, “Cigarette Glow Fatal To Japs,” Marine Corps Chevron vol. 3, no. 33 (19 August  1944), 17.
  14.  Pope, chap. 17.
  15. Berry, 226.
  16. Carl W. Hoffman, The Seizure of Tinian (Washington, DC: Headquarters, Historical Division US Marine Corps, 1951), 3-4.
  17. Kerr interview.
  18. Lionel P. Salazar, oral history interview conducted by Steve Whitson, 2010.
  19. Hanson, A Survivor Not A Hero, 37.
  20. Kerr interview
  21. “Fourth Marine Division Operations Report Tinian, 24 July to 1 August 1944,” (25 September 1944), 11. Hereafter “Division Report (Tinian).” The crews directly supporting RCT-24 at Tinian were drawn from the 2nd Amphibian Tractor Battalion (Reinforced) and the 2nd Armored Amphibian Battalion.
  22. Ibid., 282. “This was the third time RCT-24 had used LVTs for an opposed landing, but it was the first time they were used successfully.”
  23. Ibid., 5.
  24. Pope, chap. 18.
  25. Jim G. Lucas, “National Cemetery Now In Bounds Of Enemy Empire,” Marine Corps Chevron, vol. 3, no. 27 (July 8, 1944), 6.
  26. Dodd, 146. Letter dated 16 July 1944.
  27. Maurice Garber, photograph caption (RG127-GW-1309, Code 431, No. 87951), National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, MD.
  28. Division Report (Tinian), 273.
  29. Commander, Transport Division Seven, “Report of amphibious operations – Tinian – July 1944,” 26. A diagram of the landing plan indicates that Baker and Charlie Companies were aboard LST-461 (Waves 8 and 9), with battalion HQ and attached support troops aboard LST-120 (Waves 10 and 11).
  30. 24th Marines War Diary (April-September 1944), entry dated 23 July 1944.
  31. Division Report (Tinian), 5.
  32. Perry, “The Men Of ‘A’ Company.”

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