Struggle Pacific, page 4
part #3 of Pacific Alternate Series
Over six Army divisions occupied the different islands, with half of the ground-based strength located where it mattered most, in Oahu. Pearl Harbor was ringed with anti-aircraft guns. Japanese ones, of course, but also repurposed American ones that they’d found in the convenient arsenals from the many military bases around the islands.
Yamamoto understood that the Americans had to try to retake Pearl Harbor but knew that they currently could not. It seemed that Admiral Nimitz’s strategy was to attack in order to wear down Japan. The Nipponese strategic mind knew that his enemy’s play was the correct tactic. The USA had a reinforcement pipeline full of ships, so it could afford to lose a few (several, in fact) and still have more coming; Japan could not afford even to lose one of its capital ships.
And again, he wondered if he should sortie far and meet the U.S. Navy into the Pacific or wait for them in the vicinity of his air umbrella. The question already contained the answer, but that was if the Americans came to play. They had sailed near Hawaii to date but not yet into range of the land-based planes. After all, they weren’t stupid. He hoped that all of his ships would be repaired by the time the Yankees decided to show themselves again.
He stirred in his chair. Yamamoto was sitting at his mahogany desk in his office on the super-battleship Yamato. He picked up another file that had been dropped on his desk early. It was still morning, as proved by the man’s fuming coffee cup beside his paperwork.
It was the final report on the airstrikes against Port Moresby, following another Allied resupply attempt. The results from the battle had been quite good, again, with two destroyers, seven merchantmen, two light cruisers, and the London heavy cruisers -all sunk.
What worried Yamamoto was that the battleship Washington had been sunk in shallow waters, so it still rested on the bottom and was operational. Its big gun provided monstrous artillery support for the beleaguered troops. In fact, while it was not their doing, the Allies could not have planned it better. The ship was a godsend to the defenders and totally unsinkable from a Japanese point of view. No matter how many shells were thrown at it.
The report talked of the impending assault by the 67th Division commander, General Harukichi Hyakutake. It also described the artillery duel between the Imperial artillery and Washington's nine 406mm powerful naval guns. The exchange didn’t seem to be in Japan’s favor. The heaviest unit that the Imperial Army had in the area were a few 280mm Howitzer guns, and then the rest were smaller caliber artillery. The reason for the paltry artillery strength was simple. The Kokoda Track was no highway and a very difficult route for supplies and heavy machines. Some Type 94 tanks had been sent across(at great pains), but their numbers were also few. Several more Howitzers were in Buna ready to be transferred, but it would take several days, perhaps even over a week, to get them across. And even if they did appear in front of Port Moresby, the report said it wasn’t even certain that the 280mm shells could penetrate the dreadnought’s armor.
In short, Hyakutake was at a severe disadvantage in terms of heavy guns. The Grand Admiral dropped the report for a moment, trying to decide if he would order to do what needed to be done; Get Admiral Inoue to intervene and destroy the Washington. It would be a simple enough task; the great ship could not even move. The problem with that strategy was that the Imperial Navy would have to risk its big guns battleships without sufficient air cover or control of the skies.
The Allied air strength seemed to be growing at a frightful pace, and the Grand Admiral didn’t know how long his forces would be able to challenge them in the sky. Maybe it was now or never since the situation would only get worse. Or else he thought about sending a few of his main fleet carriers to Rabaul to help Inoue’s 2nd Fleet.
It was a difficult decision since he could not afford to lose capital ships. He didn’t know what kind of effect it would have on morale if a ship like Musashi was sunk. He was certain of one thing. It would not be good.
Yamamoto tried to think of what would happen after the Army took Port Moresby. Was it really feasible to invade Australia? Probably not, as things on the West Coast were glaringly showing. So, he wondered if all the effort about Port Moresby was truly worth it. He switched his thinking to defensive considerations. Would Japan be safer with or without Port Moresby under its control? The answer was obvious. With.
He reached for the internal ship’s phone to get his chief of staff, Matome Ugaki, to give him some instructions. He would send the 2nd fleet one more time with the orders of obliterating Washington and pound the ground troops to a pulp. Meanwhile, he would await the news of the planned assault on the town by General Harukichi Hyakutake. It was slated for later the same day.
American bravery in Port Moresby
Hyuatake launch all-out assault on the town, August 26th, 1942
For General Harukichi Hyakutake, the overall commander of Japanese forces besieging Port Moresby, and his remaining 25 000-plus Japanese troops arrayed in a semi-circle around the town, there was one way to go: forward. He’d thought of being able to ride out the siege until the Allies were out of food and ammo, but the damned enemy had been able to resupply their men. Worst, a battleship had been “sunk” in the harbor, but it rested on the shallow bottom and was operational, raining down hell on the Japanese with its big shells.
Their backs were against the Owen Stanley Range, and staying in their trench to get slaughtered like cattle was an unthinkable option. On the evening of August 25th, Gen. Orii, his superior in Rabaul, agreed that an all-out assault was their best option for now. The attack was set to start before daybreak the next morning.
At first light the next day (Aug. 26th), the two American battalions of the 105th Marines Regiment (part of the 5th Marine Brigade) were in their defensive positions expecting another day at the job. Trench work, boring life, and artillery dangers. But things would be different that day, as the Japanese were about to launch an all-out assault on the town. The two battalions were the westernmost units on the line for the Allied defenses. By the evening of August 25th, Lt. Colonel William O’Brien’s first battalion was dug in across Ela Beach, and Major Edward McCarthy’s second battalion held the line from the first battalion’s right flank to the beach, facing the Japanese forces. O’Brien was aware of a gap in the line between the first and second battalion and requested reinforcements, but none were available. O’Brien tried to shore up the hole in the line by positioning his anti-tank weapons to cover the gap.
O’Brien was from Troy, New York, and had served in the 5th Marine Brigade back when it was an infantry unit during World War I. After being called back into federal service in October 1940, soldiers from all over the U.S. joined the 5th, but there was still a large contingent of New York State natives in the Brigade.
Private Thomas Baker, also hailing from Troy, was a rifleman in Company A of the 105th. Baker had distinguished himself earlier in the campaign by single-handedly destroying an enemy strongpoint that was holding up his company’s advance. On the morning of August 26th, 1942, Baker was occupying a foxhole on the frontline.
Captain Benjamin Salomon was running the second battalion’s aid station, which was about 50 yards to the rear of the frontline. Salomon was a dentist but volunteered to take over the aid station when the battalion surgeon had been wounded. Salomon graduated from the USC Dental School in 1937 and started his own practice. In 1940, he was drafted into the Army but volunteered for the Marines and initially served as a private. In 1942, he was reassigned to the Army Dental Corps and commissioned as a First Lieutenant. After the dreadful battles of the last few weeks, he’d received a battlefield promotion to captain following the death of all senior officers above his rank.
Just after dark, the Japanese troops began assembling for their final attack. Beer and sake were consumed in large quantities, and all through the night of August 25th, Japanese soldiers probed the American frontline, searching for any weak spot they could find. Above their heads flew the Nipponese artillery, continuously sending its high arcing shells at the Allied positions. Flashes and explosions lighted the night.
It was about 0355 in the morning when the brave Japanese soldiers attacked. First came the Japanese officers, waving their swords over their heads and screaming at the top of their lungs, closely followed by thousands of troops. They came right through the gap between the first and second battalions. Major McCarthy described the attack as looking like a cattle stampede from a western movie, except the Japanese just kept on coming.
The Japanese attack burst through the American lines and cut them up into tiny pockets of resistance. Lt. Col. O’Brien had two pistols in hand, shouting encouragement to his men and telling them not to give up an inch of ground. After O’Brien exhausted the ammunition in his pistols, he was severely wounded in the shoulder. O’Brien then operated a jeep-mounted .50 caliber machine gun and blazed away at the Japanese despite the wound. O’Brien’s rearguard action allowed many of his men to pull back and regroup. When O’Brien ran out of ammunition, the Japanese horde enveloped him. At least thirty of the Japanese bodies scattered around O’Brien’s .50 caliber machine gun were credited to his last stand.
Private Tom Baker exhausted his ammunition and used his rifle as a club. After he bashed his rifle apart on several Japanese attackers, Baker and a couple of his buddies pulled back. Baker was hit, and a fellow soldier began carrying him. When the soldier holding him was hit, Baker insisted to be left behind. His buddies propped him up against a burned-out tree, lit a cigarette for him, and gave him a pistol loaded with eight rounds. After the battle, his buddies found him dead, with the empty pistols still in hand and ten dead Japanese bodies around him.
Capt. Salomon was treating casualties in his aid station when he noticed a Japanese soldier crawling into the tent from under the canvas wall. Salomon threw a surgical pan at him, then grabbed a wounded soldier’s M1 Carbine and shot the intruder. Salomon ordered his staff to evacuate the injured and covered their withdrawal by handling a .30 caliber water-cooled machine gun. When Salomon was found a few days later, his body was covered with bullet and bayonet wounds. Surrounding Salomon’s machine gun were 98 dead Japanese soldiers.
The Japanese overran the 105th Regiment, continued down the coastal plain, and attacked a 10th Marine Artillery Battery positioned behind the 105th. The Marines were firing their 105mm howitzers, line of sight, directly into the oncoming waves of Japanese troops. But they still kept coming. The Marines destroyed their guns and fell back.
The attack continued for some eleven hours before the Japanese finally relented. The 67th Division and it's two supporting Kwantung Regiments had advanced over 1,200 yards before they were stopped. Furthermore, the Australian 1st Division also fought like the devil to keep the enemy away, and its commander (Lieutenant General Cyril Albert Clowes) was able to reinforce the beleaguered Americans with the timely movement of the 2nd Regiment from his unit. It worked and was all the better for the Allies as it was the only reserve the General had that day. Some 105th Regiment soldiers who the Japanese cut off were forced to swim into Port Moresby’s harbor to survive. Most were picked up by the “Washington battle platform,” as it was starting to be affectionately called by the soldiers,
By 18h00 on August 26th, soldiers and Marines had regained all of the ground lost during the powerful Japanese attack. The aftermath of the attack was horrific. In front of the 105th’s position, the Japanese body count was 2,295, with another 2,016 dead to the rear. A total of 4,311 Japanese troops were killed.
The American losses were also high. The first and second battalions of the 105th had nearly been wiped out, with 406 killed and an additional 512 wounded. The Australians paid their butcher’s bill as well, with over 800 dead.
Lt. Col. O’Brien and Pvt. Baker were both posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. Capt. Salomon was recommended for the award but rejected his non-combatant status as a medical officer. During the action, Salomon’s use of a machine gun was the sticking point for the award. According to the Geneva Convention, medical personnel was only authorized to use pistols or rifles to defend their patients, so a crew-served machine gun initially disqualified him.
The Imperial army attack was another failure. Port Moresby still held, and now the Japanese would need to do something bolder to storm it.
Battleship Washington
Firing away in Port Moresby, August 26th, 1942
The battleship Washington was the second and final member of the North Carolina class of fast dreadnoughts. Built under the Washington Treaty system, North Carolina's design was limited in displacement and armament. However, the United States used a clause in the Second London Naval Treaty to increase the main battery from the original armament of nine 14 in (356 mm) guns to 16 in (406 mm) guns. The ship was laid down in 1938 and completed in May 1941, while the United States and Japan were still at peace. Her initial career was spent training along the East Coast of the United States until after Japan invaded and conquered Pearl Harbor in March 1942, igniting the Pacific War.
Conflict came to Australia's shores after the disastrous few months of battle. The United States scrapped the bottom of the barrel to organize a fleet of ships powerful enough to be sent there to protect the Aussies against the numerous Japanese fleets. Had followed a series of battles for the American battlewagon, where it did its fair share of damage on the enemy. It was also hurt several times.
The last torpedo damage it received below the waterline was to be it's last. The ship’s war had seemed over at that moment as it was sinking. But as fate would have it, the boat was in a shallow part of the harbor, and the vessel’s captain was quick-witted enough to order the boat beached. The man planned to keep the Washington in the fight to help the defenders. It worked to perfection. The battleship was “sunk,” but its guns would still be a part of Port Moresby's beleaguered defenses. Many historians have said, after the war, that without that fateful event (the sinking of the battleship), the town would have fallen in General Harukichi Hyakutake's 67th Division attack on August 26th.
That captain was named Captain Howard H. J. Benson, a decorated officer that had also taken part in the First World War. The man stood on his ship’s bridge and looked beyond the horizon. The place had seen better days. The windows were destroyed, and several mangled metal pieces jutted out everywhere. The ship's deck below was also littered with the debris of war. Washington had lost most of its secondary armament, which had been vulnerable to air attacks, and the Nipponese artillery fired on the ship regularly.
As he was waiting for his guns to fire, he saw more enemy shells approaching as they arced high from the enemy's rearward positions. And then the Jap ordinance hit the battleship’s structure, reverberating loudly, followed by a blast of fire that shook the metal under their feet. Those 280mm Imperial Howitzers certainly packed a decent punch, but their caliber would never truly hurt the mighty battlewagon. Yet, casualty reports were horrible, and almost half of the crew was either dead or injured. Many of the worst ones had even been transferred to shore to be treated. But the dreadnought could still fire its big guns.
“Ready to fire, sir,” said one of the deck officers in contact with the gun control rooms. Benson had ordered one coordinated volley to try and silence that damned nest of Howitzer that was shooting at Washington. Before that, it had been free-for-all firing to support the troops; they had their hands full trying to stop the relentless Japanese assault.
The ship’s captain admired the sturdy guns for a few split seconds. They were scared, all right. They had been hit multiple times since the boat was beached. Many had pockmarks, and some of them didn’t function as well as when out of the yard. Yet, Washington’s 406mm naval riffles endured and continued to support the beleaguered men of the 5th Brigade and the Aussie’s 1st Division.
The world seemed to explode in a fury. The guns had just fired. A powerful cloud of fire bursts forth from their big muzzles and spurts forward for dozens of meters. The sound, normally bearable by the bridge crew, was overbearing, as their viewports and windows were all blown away by the Japanese shells. The water in front of the blast rippled, deeply gouged by the mighty shockwave. And then the shells were out toward their destination.
The 406mm ordinance was so close to the target that it took only a few seconds to get to their there. The area had been spotted by the range finders and radar personnel since the start of the battle, but destroying the Japanese guns was a difficult undertaking. It was not that they were hard to obliterate. Artillery guns were sort of a soft target and were pretty fragile compared to tanks or bunkers. It was that they were difficult to hit because the enemy had smartly dug them into deep trenches, making any shots from the battleship very difficult to hit.
The Washington, on the other hand, was the easiest of targets. It laid along a flat surface (water) and was immobile. No trench or cover protected it. Furthermore, the Japanese Howitzers were so close that it was very difficult for Washington’s gunners to be precise. The big battlewagon was not made for such short-range firing. Battleship designs were thought to be for a range beyond a thousand meters. Anything below that standard battleship tactics (for most of the warring nations) dictated that the ships would just fire horizontally anyway, so they could not miss. But firing horizontally was not an option for the beached dreadnought. Indirect fire was its only option.
The mighty ordnance exploded in all its powerfulness near the Japanese artillery, sending towering pillars of dirt, smoke, and dust n the air. The air around the impact zone was full of dust and smoke for a few moments. It eventually cleared with the gentle breeze to give a better view of the volley’s results. The lookouts on the bridge were keen to see if the enemy guns would fire again. The man dropped his binoculars with a sour look on his face and turned back toward his captain. The Japs artillery had just fired again, as he’d seen the flash of the tracers arcing out of their protective trench.
