MICHAEL  A.  “MIKE”  MASTERS
[Mr. Masters has given special permission to use portions of Once A Marine Always A Marine (1988), his wartime memoirs, to serve as the basis of this report for the Living Tarawa Veterans Roster.  His gesture is most appreciated.]
My hometown was Chicago, and my parents’ house was really close to the Municipal Airport.  I graduated from high school in June 1939.  With a strong interest in the U.S. Marine Corps and a similar interest in aviation, I enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps on 24 July 1939, a time when the Corps was an elite military organization of about 18,000 active-duty men.  Entry requirements were stringent, higher than the other services, and all of that appealed immensely to me, to do my best and be with the best in the service of our country.
With $6.10 in my pocket for meals, I was sent by train to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego for boot camp.
Marine Corps Recruiting Depot in San Diego, as Mike knew it
http://www.grunt.com/corps/uploads/stories/quonsethuts.jpg
Training was as tough as any Marine boot will tell you.  “Boots,” as recruits were called, went through strict and demanding training and indoctrination procedures:  the GI haircut; receiving a bucket of toilet articles (including a bag of Bull Durham tobacco and paper since we were not allowed brand cigarettes); summer khaki uniforms and blue cover-all fatigues (the kind farmers wore); olive-green dress uniforms, with Marine emblems; two pairs of ankle-high shoes that laced up; tropical pith helmet; World War I steel helmet and army pack; and finally, a ‘03 Springfield bolt-action rifle still covered with cosmoline grease.
US Model 1903 Springfield rifle, caliber .30-06
http://www.nps.gov/spar/historyculture/the-1903-springfield-rifle.htm
We were taught that our rifle was always our own personal responsibility wherever we went.  “You are a Marine first!  That rifle is now a part of you and is the only friend you have.  Your life may depend upon it some day!”  For mistreatment or improper use of our rifle, penalties were severe.  Simply by accidentally calling our rifle a gun could cause swift and very humiliating repercussions when drill instructors corrected such inappropriate use of the language in front of fellow boots.  Witnessing a drill instructor’s tirade on a poor boot was a lesson we definitely remembered!
In August 1939, I graduated from boot camp in the 24th Platoon, and that opened doors to a number of specialized career opportunities.  I chose the prestigious three-week Sea School and, ultimately, was assigned to the battleship USS Tennessee (BB-43).  Some of my Sea School graduates were assigned to the USS Arizona which was sunk some two years later when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and I will never forget those men.
Some of the others from my recruit class were sent to defense battalions on Wake, Midway and Guam where they made history defending those islands against Japanese landings.  Those who survived on Wake and Guam and were sent as prisoners to Japan.
I left the Tennessee in mid-November 1941 and was on liberty at home in Chicago when my mother told me she had heard a radio report that some Imperial Japanese Navy vessels had left the Inland Sea for unspecified destinations.  Something very ominous seemed to be underway by the Japanese!
USS Tennessee (BB-43)
Mike Master’s ‘home’ between mid-October 1939 and mid-November 1941
Courtesy:  permission to use above photo from Bill McWilliams (USAF, Colonel, Ret),
author of SUNDAY IN HELL: Pearl Harbor Minute by Minute (2011);
http://www.west-point.org/class/usma1955/D/M/PHP.htm
Little did anybody know or even predict at that time that within three weeks some Japanese aircraft carriers would launch aircraft onto unsuspecting US Navy ships at Pearl Harbor.   That attack, which severely but partially crippled operational capabilities of the US Pacific fleet stationed there and resulted in the deaths of nearly 2,400 people, was what triggered America’s declaration of war against Imperial Japan.  My former ‘home at sea,’ the Tennessee, was damaged but returned to duty almost eight months later and valiantly earned 10 battle stars before the war ended.  I have had many occasions to contemplate what I missed by being transferred from the Tennessee so shortly before the attack on Pearl Harbor.
My liberty in Chicago was finished very shortly before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, and I returned to the West Coast for several weeks to Yerba Buena Island (where the San Francisco Bay Bridge is anchored on its route between San Francisco and Oakland, California) to wait for my next assignment.
In February 1942, orders came and I left Yerba Buena to go to the Marine base in San Diego.  Expecting to be transported to the docks to waiting transports, we instead headed east across the Bay Bridge to Oakland, to an old secluded railway station which had obviously not been used in years.  With secrecy and urgency, we boarded a troop train whose cars looked as if they hadn’t been used since World War I.  They had none of the comforts anybody would associate with passenger coaches.  They were converted steel boxcars with several square windows and a plain square door on each side.  Each car had a mixture of hard seats and benches, with a head at each end.  Not surprisingly, these cars were called “cattle cars.”
In San Diego, I was eventually assigned to a platoon of assault engineers in Company D, 2nd Battalion, 18th Marine Regiment (Pioneers), attached to the 2nd Marine Division.  [Mike’s 2nd Battalion was the 2nd Combat Engineer Battalion whose mission was to “enhance the mobility, counter mobility, and survivability of the Marine Division through combat and limited engineering support.”
http://www.2ndmardiv.marines.mil/Units/2ndCombatEngineerBN.aspx
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2nd_Combat_Engineer_Battalion
By June 1942, I was on my way to the Solomon Islands on the USS President Hayes  (APA-20) where, beginning on 7 August, I was part of America’s first ground offensive of World War II. The next day I was in the landings on Tulagi Island, very close to Florida Island.  Actually, our landing was at a village named Sesapi which later became the Patrol Boat (PT) base from which our future president John F. Kennedy operated for a while.
http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/p/PT-109.htm
USS President Hayes (APA-39), during Guadalcanal landings 7-9 August 1942
http://www.history.navy.mil/photos/sh-usn/usnsh-p/ap39.htm
http://www.history.navy.mil/photos/events/wwii-pac/guadlcnl/guad-1.htm
Notable “firsts” in that operation included the first bayonet charge by Marines on the causeway linking Gavutu and Tanambogo Islands (across Sealark Channel from Guadalcanal) and the first American offensive use of artillery in World War II.
As Mike says, “To this day, the Japanese call the island of Guadalcanal “The Island of Death,” where Marines and attached units inflicted more than 27,000 casualties, at a cost of more than 8,000 Marines and soldiers.  Of this amount, 2,484 Marines were killed or were missing.  The slim victories of the Marines were due to their discipline, training, and ability to withstand hunger, fatigue, and disease” -- qualities that made all the difference in subsequent Marine victories across the Pacific.
In late January 1943, I boarded the USS President Adams (APA-19) bound for New Zealand.  There, because of the combat at Guadalcanal, Marine units were rebuilt to fighting strength, equipment was replaced and some new equipment was handed out, and we routinely went through extensive training prior to our next combat assignment.
USS President Adams (APA-19)
http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/ships/APA/APA-19_PresidentAdams.html
Mike Masters
1943
After a nine-month stay in New Zealand (which Mike fondly refers to as his “Home Away from Home”), the next engagement for Mike and the 2nd Marine Division was Operation Galvanic at Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands.  That topic becomes the primary focus of this report on Mike Masters.
T A R A W A
Seventy-Two Hours of Hell
It was late October 1943 and I was 21 years old.  The Battle of Guadalcanal was already in my rear view mirror, and I had grown up fast. Our memorable stay in New Zealand was fast drawing to a close.  With new replacements, new M1 semi-automatic rifles, flamethrowers, training, training, and more training, the men of our company were in top physical condition, ready and equipped to take on the Japs.
Troops and equipment were now thoroughly molded into an invincible fighting force.  The time had come; our transports were waiting in Wellington Harbor to take us on “practice” landings.  Our platoon was again detached, and we joined our battalion aboard the troop transport, USS Sheridan (APA-51).  We were in Task Force 53.1.2 commanded by Captain J.B. McGovern, USN.  Besides our own transport, this group of vessels included the Monrovia, Doyen, Virgo, La Salle and the Ashland.
http://usssheridanapa51.com/
http://pacific.valka.cz/forces/tf53.htm#galvan
USS Sheridan (APA-51)
http://www.usssheridanapa51.com/
I was the NCO of a squad-sized shore party reconnaissance team that was part of Company D, 2nd Battalion (Pioneers), 18th Marines.  We were assigned to land with the assault waves.  Word was purposely released that the transports were proceeding north along the coast to Hawkes Bay for landing exercises and that our heavy equipment would then be transported by rail back to the camps.  This ruse may have fooled Tokyo Rose, but it didn’t fool this “old salt” from Chicago.
In fact, practice landings did occur up on the north end of Hawkes Bay, at a place called Mahia Bay. Just a few days prior to the 70th anniversary of the 2nd Marine Division’s practice landings in November 1943, members of the New Zealand Military Vehicle Collectors Club (Robin Beale, current president) held an event to commemorate our Marines’ original practice landings.
The four photographs below relate to the ceremony held on 27 October 2013 - almost 70 years after our first stop there.  Three Marines from Camp Pendleton were flown out to New Zealand for the ceremony.  These Marines and one of the US Embassy staff (wearing the red lapel poppy) were the guests of our friends in New Zealand.   At the far right of this photo is an American flag draped over a rock cairn, covering a plaque installed there by the people of New Zealand.  At the appropriate moment during the ceremony, our flag was lifted from the cairn and the new memorial plaque was present for everybody to see.
New Zealanders and guests from the US Marines and the American Embassy meet on Mahia Bay
to again thank our New Zealand hosts 70+ years ago prior to the unveiling of a plaque commemorating our original practice landings there in early November 1943.
Courtesy:  Robin Beale and Kevin Simmonds
New Zealand’s memorial plaque commemorating our Marines
Courtesy: Robin Beale and Kevin Simmonds
70-year old photo of our Marines’ mock landings at Mahia Bay, November 1943
Courtesy:  Robin Beale
http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/media/photo/mock-landing-at-mahia
http://nzmvcc.org.nz/
If only our Marines had had the beauty and tranquility of the Hawkes Bay area when they finally reached their still unannounced destination later in November 1943!
Mahia Bay on Hawkes Bay, North Island, New Zealand
Courtesy: Robin Beale and Kevin Simmonds
Amphibious maneuvers at Hawkes Bay maneuvers went off smoothly.  The New Zealand Air Force assisted with simulated air cover while the waters churned with boats hitting the beach all day.  That evening, all boats and even the heavy equipment were ordered back to their transports for re-embarking.  Just as we left San Diego a year prior, ships got underway, formed a staggered convoy flanked by escort destroyers, and headed in a northerly direction, not south back to Wellington.
After several hours of sailing, the chilling word came over the ship’s speakers:  “To all Marines:  We are not returning to our camps.  This convoy is now proceeding into combat.  Our destination and plans will be announced in a few days.”  Several days later our convoy arrived off Efate in the New Hebrides for another day of landing exercises with other units of the fleet.  That evening the transports anchored within the harbor while Marine and Naval commanders held a final meeting.
After Mike Masters' report was finished, supplementary information indicated where he and his unit were for the few days at Efate Island.  Sheridan went into Havannah Harbor up on Efate's northwest coast.
“SHERIDAN arrived in Noumea, New Caledonia on 18 October 1943, debarked her troops, and commenced unloading her cargo.  She sailed to Lamberton Harbor, Wellington, New Zealand on 21st, and on 1 November, sailed for Havannah Harbor, Efate Island, New Hebrides in company with the battleship USS MARYLAND, and attack transport USS MONROVIA.”
History of USS Sheridan (APA 51).   Division of Naval History, Ships’ Histories Section,                    Navy Department, 1952. http://usssheridanapa51.com/Sheridan_History.pdf
A WWII US Navy Seabee map of Efate Island, New Hebrides
NOTE:  Havannah Harbor on northwest coast; Mele Bay on southwest coast
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Map_of_approach_to_Efate_Island.jpg
Our stop basically served at least three purposes:  waiting for more vessels to join our convoy; practicing more amphibious landings at Mele Bay while waiting for those additional vessels; and refueling Sheridan and resupplying the troops on board.
Good planning and logistics made Havannah Harbor a good and practical place to be at this time for our convoy.   For at least 18 months prior to our arrival at Havannah Harbor, the US Army and, eventually, US Navy Seabees had been constructing port and airfield facilities at Havannah Harbor.  Initiated by the 101st Engineer Regiment of the US Army's Americal Division and completed by US Navy Seabees, this work gave the US Navy a support base that increasingly enabled its warfare strategy in the South and Western Pacific.  The first tough test of this build up was the Navy's costly but ultimately successful performance in the nearby Battle of the Coral Sea in May 1942.
http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/Building_Bases/bases-24.html
http://americal.org/about.html
Cronin, Francis. Under The Southern Cross: The Saga of the Americal Division.  Boston: Americal Division Veterans Association, 1978. 15-16, 31-32.
Early morning view to the west at Havannah Harbor, Efate Island
www.treesandfishes.com
Only a few of the high echelon commanders knew what the next target would be.  Scuttlebutt was that it might be Wake Island.  We were excited to think that we may be chosen to avenge our valiant counterparts--those Marines who held off Japanese forces for sixteen days while dealing them a severe blow.  The Battle of Wake Island began the same day as Japanese forces attacked Pearl Harbor, on 7 December 1941, and lasted until Marines were overwhelmed and forced to surrender on 23 December 1941.  American POWs from the defense of Wake Island faced extreme maltreatment, including starvation, denial of medical treatment, whippings and beheadings.
http://www.historynet.com/wake-island-prisoners-of-world-war-ii.htm
.
Mele Bay, Efate, New Hebrides (now, Republic of Vanuatu)
http://www.vanuatubeachbar.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/air-view-of-Mele-Bay.png
A few days out of Efate and still heading north by east, officers in charge got word over the PA horn to release all confidential information on the upcoming campaign and what was expected of the units.
We still thought it may be Wake, until we gathered around a relief map of a single horseshoe-shaped island and were informed that the assault would be on a heavily defended, small island called Betio in the Tarawa Atoll, roughly 2,400 miles southwest of the Hawaiian Islands.
On his journey from Efate to Tarawa, Mike would have seen views like this.
NOTE:  the 48-star “Old Glory”
http://navyvets.tripod.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/wwiiconvoy.jpg
Our intelligence estimated that the Japanese had more than 5,000 well-trained Naval Landing Force (Imperial Marines) personnel defending Betio.  The island was just a little over two miles long and a half-mile wide, but the Japs had sufficient time to build it into a formidable fortress bristling with machine guns, 8” dual-purpose guns, coast artillery, and tanks, all interlaced with tank traps and open trenches.
Betio:  Japanese obstacles and defense positions thought to exist prior to attack
http://www.lonesentry.com/articles/jp-betio-island/tarawa-betio-island.jpg
While en route, one of the transports limped back from the convoy, then a destroyer dropped back to escort it.  The next day, we heard a rumor that the transport’s steering mechanism had jammed and it could go only in wide circles, forcing it to reduce speed until the problem was corrected.  Next morning the two ships caught up with the convoy.  Sailing a zigzag course within a convoy to evade preying Jap submarines was still a hazard; any ship falling out had to take its chances with an escort.  I can imagine how those Marines felt aboard that transport.
Most of us took shipboard life in our strides, being veterans of the Guadalcanal campaign.  New replacements, fresh from the States and going into combat for the first time, were apprehensive.  The new men were fortunate to have this time for indoctrination.  The old salts told them what to expect.  A favorite assurance heard was “Just stick with me, Mac!”  Shipboard activities consisted of morning calisthenics, tactical map sessions conducted by officers and NCOs, and checking and re-checking equipment and weapons.  Afternoons were generally free, because of rising tropical temperatures.
When we were en route to Guadalcanal, our convoy was concealed by rainsqualls right up to the morning of the landing.  Although this convoy was much larger -- spread over hundreds of miles -- and the weather was clear right up to reaching the target, we still weren’t detected by Japanese patrols.  A day before the landing one of our patrol planes spotted a lone Japanese “Betty” bomber on radar just southwest of the convoy.  The surprised intruder was shot down before he could possibly reveal any information.
[20 November: D-Day]  Our huge armada approached Tarawa … Out of curiosity, I had to see what was going on topside.  It was still dark.  Troop transports were now in their final approaches to their debarking areas, northwest of the channel into Betio’s lagoon.  Then it happened:  Dead ahead and off on the horizon a Japanese red flare rocketed into the sky reportedly coming from Betio.  Our movements were finally discovered.  Our battleships immediately opened fire with their main batteries, which lighted the horizon with bright alternating flashes, followed by flashes and dull thumps as shells landed on the island.  I could actually see the huge white-hot shells arching in the night right up to their targets.
Not all the flashes were our exploding shells.  We were surprised to learn the Japanese had quickly reacted with their heavy dual-purpose guns that were still operative and were returning our ships’ fire--but not for long.  The Japanese had more than a year to prepare the defenses of Betio.  An early aerial photo reconnaissance of the island revealed Japanese still working on possible defenses on the northern beaches, our landing sites.  Mines were in position but were never armed; interspersed were cement dihedral-angled obstructions to deter boat landings.  Barbed wire interlaced the beach approaches forming fire lanes designed to funnel incoming troops into 13-mm and 7.7-mm machine gun positions.  These were connected by a series of interlacing zig-zag infantry trenches.  Interior defenses were not as concentrated.  (A Japanese admiral claimed that the island was impregnable and that it would take one hundred years to be occupied.)
After our typical early breakfast of “styke-n-eygs” (steak-n-eggs), a practice acquired while in New Zealand, Marines reported below decks to put on their packs and make last-minute adjustments to their equipment.  Then the well-known announcement came:  “Now hear this!  All Marines proceed to your debarking stations!”  Our working day started early.
Marines proceeded through passageways and up ladders lighted only by red battle lights, then stepped out on deck.  The sky was clear.  A faint light began to appear on clouds forming on the eastern horizon.  For anyone who cared, it was going to be a clear, hot day.  This was also the beginning of a day that a few fortunate Marines would remember for the rest of their lives, with combat that added to the annals of Marine Corps history.
After a final roll call, my squad proceeded over the side.  With rifles slung and helmet straps loose, Marines headed down nets, holding on to vertical ropes to keep their fingers from getting stepped on.  “Heads up!” came the order, as heavier equipment was lowered by ropes.  This was the second combat landing for many of us, but I still had a gut feeling that death was waiting just hours away.
Pre-attack embarkation into LCVPs amid ocean swells
http://cdn06.usni.org/sites/default/files/imagecache/story-large/stories/FF39AC4327A74BCB8C7A4E7E3B947A29.jpg
Our third wave was to embark in landing boats, as we lacked sufficient amphibious tractors (called “amtracs”) to carry all the waves in.  This would be the first time amtracs were used in a direct assault landing.  Our boat milled around the USS Sheridan, circling until all boats joined up.  Suddenly, several huge geysers erupted as shells exploded between us and the transport.  A large dual-purpose Jap gun had again come to life from the northwest point of the island, trying to disrupt our landing operations.  Then another round came closer to our ship.  The next round surely would have the range.  The ship’s propeller came to life, churning as it steamed out of range.  Our escort destroyers spotted the troublesome gun and immediately opened fire.  WHAM!  WHAM! and the Jap gun was silent.
Colorized photograph taken just before H-Hour as amtracs approach Betio’s north shore
http://www.ww2gyrene.org/assets/tarawa_goingin.jpg
The morning sun was up but hardly visible:  dark billowing clouds of smoke covered the entire island.  It had been less than half an hour since our transports received return fire from the Japanese defenders.
Two minesweepers slowly proceeded into the channel entrance to the lagoon to clear our path of mines.  Again, two Japanese shore batteries, just beyond the extended pier, took the transports under fire.  Again, the leading destroyer instantly engaged and silenced those positions.
USS Dashiell  (DD-659)
http://www.navsource.org/archives/05/0565915.jpg
USS Ringgold   (DD-500), first destroyer into the lagoon
http://www.defensemedianetwork.com/stories/slugging-it-out-in-tarawa-lagoon/#comments
A second destroyer (Ringgold) entered the lagoon to assist in close fire support.  It, too, was fired upon by Jap shore batteries.  Several shells splashed close to the second destroyer.  Within minutes a shell punched into the mid-section of its starboard side, but miraculously did not explode--no doubt a dud.  In revenge, the damaged destroyer trained its turrets on the suspected position and opened fire.  The huge explosion signaled an obvious hit on the gun and its ammunition dump. (The hyperlink below the Ringgold photograph is well-worth accessing: copy or type the URL into a browser.)
Now assault crafts headed into the channel preceded by the picket boats which would guide us to the line of departure, a few thousand yards from the beach, and give us additional covering fire.  Naval shelling was still conducted at this point, although the island was no longer visible--just clouds of red dust with patches of black smoke rising from within.
The first two waves aligned with the picket boats and headed in; then our wave formed up and followed.  My landing boat had been overhauled in New Zealand, with ¼” steel plates mounted on the sides for added protection.  The additional weight made the boat draw more water, but it was still a visible target.  About two thousand yards out we began to receive long-range automatic fire.  Bullets sounding like hailstones bounced off the plated sides while others whistled overhead.
Just before we reached the edge of the coral reef, I looked through one of the ramp openings to see how the first two waves on Red Beach 2 and 3 had fared.  The Japs waited until the amtracs unloaded their men onto the beach, then opened fires with everything they had.  I watched Marines desperately running to the sea wall at the water’s edge, while white tracer bullets hailed on them from all angles.  I could see Marines falling while others still moved forward.  It would be a miracle if any survived that fusillade of bullets.
Saturation bombing of Betio with more than 400,000 tons of explosives prior to and on D-Day morning neutralized a majority of the dual-purpose anti-aircraft positions and numerous anti-boat guns but was unsuccessful in eliminating dug-in beach defenses that took our landing forces under violent, threatening fire.  Several amtracs found openings in the sea wall and proceeded with their troops directly inland to the northwest taxiways of the airstrip.  Others did not fare as well and were stopped on the beaches.
Reaching the reef’s edge, our boat’s coxswain for some reason decided to turn the boat around, perhaps figuring the water might not be deep enough to clear the coral reef.  A Marine lieutenant in the boat mistook the move, pulled his .45 pistol, and ordered, “Turn this boat around coxswain, and head back in!”  As we turned about, we came alongside a boat that had been hit just before it reached the reef.  Survivors were swimming to the nearest boats; several were hauled into our boat, shaken up but not seriously wounded.  One Marine, his clothes in shreds and himself in shock, swam around the stern of our boat to avoid incoming fire, decided there were too many in the boat already, dropped back into the water, and swam farther out to another boat.
After picking up survivors, we continued our approach to Red Beach 3, where I saw the first two waves of men being mowed down.  Our ships’ fire let up as our fighter planes and dive bombers worked the island over, passing directly over our heads, firing their machine guns, and releasing their bomb loads as they nosed in at tree-top level.  How unbelievable to see that tremendous amount of firepower our Navy was unleashing on the Japs. And yet, as we Marines would say, “Ya, there’s always one Jap bastard that didn’t get the word and he’s waiting for you.”  In short, we never believed that shelling alone would eliminate the enemy.  There was always a job left for the Marines--to go in and finish them off.
The Japs did come to life with long-range machine gun fire, anti-boat guns, mortars, and small-arms fire.  The withering firepower took its toll on other landing forces, especially those who were dropped off at the edge of the shallow coral reef and had to wade in.  Several aerial bursts cut loose over our boat, but were more powder than shrapnel.
Someone again had given us the “bum dope” regarding tides around the island; there was only three feet or less of water over the reef--not enough to carry boats up to the beaches.  Our coxswain again headed for the reef’s edge, but the engine sputtered and stopped.  He tried to start it, to no avail.  To this day, I thank that young coxswain at the helm for having enough sense to see that we weren’t going to make it over that reef. Even under threat of a .45, he probably pulled a wire or something.
As the coxswain worked on the engine, the boat began to drift with the current.  Fortunately, the tide was heading out and the boat drifted away from the island, back toward the channel, still under a constant barrage from anti-boat guns or artillery fire.  One of the picket boats took us under tow back to our transport, the Sheridan.  After we climbed aboard by way of the landing nets, the ship’s crew gave us orange juice and coffee, and then we were ordered over the side again into another boat.
That was the longest morning of my life, yet it had been only an hour since our boat had stalled.
[In the following photograph, a production line at Higgins Industries Incorporated, New Orleans, Louisiana.]
For more on the Higgins landing craft legend, copy these URLs into a browser.
http://www.higginsmemorial.com  and  http://higginsclassicboats.org/
By now, someone had been convinced that boats were not making it over the reef, and Marines walking in knee-deep water were easy prey for the Japs.  Due to poor communications or because they were ordered to, many boats still attempted to pass over the reef, only to go aground or dump their passengers into the depths of the reef’s outer edges.
Our second boat’s coxswain was now informed about the reef’s danger.  We met an amtrac near the white coral reef and transferred to the tracked vehicle for the short ride to the beach.  Marine amtrac drivers alerted to the heavy fire on Red Beach 3 decided to take us in along the west side of the 500-yard wooden pier, affording some protection from the withering fire. Our landing actually occurred on Red 2.  Our amtrac driver took us halfway down the length of the pier, keeping the amtrac close to the pilings.  “This is it,” he yelled.  “I’ve got to head back and pick up another load.”
Sounds of battle concentrated in such a limited area as Tarawa were deafening.  The air was filled with the continuous whistling and zinging of bullets, the close proximity of major-caliber explosions, and the agony of hearing fellow Marines being killed all around me.  It’s strange how one’s mind works under stress.  I was alert and determined, yet damned scared.  I had a right to be.  For a second a strange thought came to mind:  Wouldn’t it be nice to be somewhere else right now?
There was no way to dodge anything.  All I could do was hunch down and keep moving.  Once my ears adapted to the noise, my sixth sense and training took over and I systematically ordered my scouting team forward toward the beach.  The carnage of floating bodies, Marines as well as Japs, plus thousands of dead fish covered the shoreline, while other bodies floated out to sea with the tides, some becoming victims of sharks.
There were still Jap snipers hidden under the pier, who took pot shots as Marines went by.  Just as I passed an opening between the pilings, I heard a “zing,” and something hot brushed the seat of my pants.  Feeling the edge of my back pocket, I discovered that a Jap sniper bullet had skimmed my left buttock, cutting the threads from the seam of my lower left pocket!  Assuming that it may have been a stray bullet coming through the opening, but not taking any chances, I lobbed a couple of grenades on both sides of the gap and continued toward the beach.
A shock brought reality home.  I passed a dead Marine lying on a pile of coral along the pier, his pack blasted open and his personal gear strewn on the coral rocks.  Photographs of his family and a young lady floated around him.  I was sorry afterward that I had viewed the incident.  Japanese carried similar pictures, several of which I had retained …  In both cases, I thought, neither family will ever know how the end came about.
Trained first as a pioneer company, we were in Company D, 2nd Battalion, 18th Marines.    We were deployed as basically assault infantry:  We were experts in demolitions; we operated heavy equipment such as bulldozers, we distilled drinking water; we handled flamethrowers.  The Navy decided to call us Shore Party.  As a reconnaissance NCO, I was assigned with my team of three men to go in with the assault troops and reconnoiter the beach in my landing sector for places to bring in our battalion supplies.
“March Macabre,” a sketch by combat artist Kerr Eby, reflects the familiar Betio scene of wounded or lifeless Marines being pulled to shelter under fire by their buddies.  U.S. Navy Combat Art Collection
http://www.nps.gov/history/history/online_books/npswapa/extcontent/usmc/pcn-190-003120-00/sec6.htm
On Tarawa (as we called the battle, referring to Betio) there was really no rear echelon; once you hit the beach, if you were lucky you were in the front lines, which were measured in yards along the sea wall.  Fighting was at close quarters.  In a sense it was organized confusion.  Assault teams had overlapped upon landing and were pinned down behind the three-foot-high coconut-log sea wall, just yards from Japanese gun ports and infantry trenches.
Marines first lobbed grenades into the defenders’ positions (and received a good number in return), killing or forcing the remainder to take cover.  This attack was followed with flamethrowers and automatic fire.  At times the enraged, trapped Japs would attack with bayonets, engaging Marines in hand-to-hand fighting.  There were heavy losses on both sides, but the determined Marines took a yard at a time, slowing moving inland.
As we gained footage on the beach, I returned to the end of the pier with my recon team to assist and direct the supplies that were arriving aboard amtracs.
The 1,600’ government pier on Betio’s north shore provided a deep water docking facility
for oceangoing vessels could to service the needs of the islanders.
http://www.tarawaontheweb.org/pierhead.jpg
http://pwencycl.kgbudge.com/T/a/Tarawa.htm
[From west to east (right to left) in the above photograph, the smoke of the Betio battlefield obscures the Bird’s Beak and cove of Red Beach 1.  Then, Red Beach 2 up to the foot of the pier is in view.  The process of continuing to unload needed supplies continued throughout the battle, as shown by the large amount of supplies on the one-third of the pier closest to the pierhead.]
A sea level view of the supply problem Mike faced
http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/USMC-M-Tarawa/USMC-M-Tarawa-3.html
There was still no place to move the supplies either inland or even on the beach.  Boxes began to stack up along the length of the pier, and we used them as barriers against the intensive small-arms fire coming from a large blockhouse just east of the pier. As Marines went about their work of unloading or carrying the supplies, many became casualties from the fusillade of bullets continuously whistling across the pier.  Some Marines even bravely walked upright, taking their chances.
The first night, after gaining a foothold measured in yards, Marines began to dig in along the beach and to set up defenses, expecting a counterattack that night.  My squad tried to get whatever sleep we could by lying in any open space between stacks of boxes.  Many boxes contained ammunition.
There is never complete silence at night during combat.  Firing is intermittent, generally from a Jap sniper.  Or using taunts ridiculing Eleanor or President Roosevelt, the Japs try to get Marines to give away their positions.
(As we did on Guadalcanal), after first being trigger-happy, we advanced to fire discipline--calling our shots and firing only when necessary.  Japs began to infiltrate among the Marines, seeking out weak points.  Illuminating star shells were periodically fired over Japs’ positions to keep them in check.  Orders went out:  “Use your knives and bayonets; whatever you do, don’t give your positions away.”  Marines held their ground at a cost to many, attesting to the gruesome scenes of dead bodies still interlocked in combat.  Along with fire discipline we learned to sleep whenever possible, generally in short spans, alternating with a buddy.  We were so exhausted that we could turn off the battle noises and take short cat-naps whenever possible.
[21 November: D+1]  At first light of the second morning on Tarawa, I gathered my gear and nudged a Marine lying next to me.  At first I thought he was sleeping, with his head resting on his pack and his rifle along side.  As I  nudged him, he rolled over.  He had taken a bullet through the forehead during the night.  He had been lying on the exposed side of the pier next to me and somehow shielded my body.
The second morning was a repeat of the day before.  Marines were still trying to wade ashore under intensive fire from a Jap machine gun position on the west end of Red Beach 2.  Then we discovered that the Japs had swum out to our disabled amtracs east of the pier and were firing machine guns at us.  On the west side we were receiving enemy fire from an old interisland freighter (R.C.S. Nimanoa) scuttled on December 9, 1942 by the British and thought to have been neutralized the day before.
http://tighar.org/Publications/TTracks/15_1/mrsobrian.html
[The context of the article in the above hyperlink has bearing on a not-unrelated aspect of Mike Master’s report.  The 1999 article avails readers of a glimpse into an event of widespread interest to the public in the late 1930s and 1940s. During pre-battle briefings on approach to Tarawa Atoll, Marines had been instructed to keep an eye out for any possible evidence of Amelia Earhart, the American aviatrix who almost completed an around-the-world flight in 1937.  In July 1937, she and her co-pilot Fred Noonan mysteriously disappeared and their whereabouts have never been discovered.  Their planned flight path took them through the area roughly delimited by Tarawa Atoll on left and Gardner Island on their right.  They made radio contact with the U.S. Coast Guard vessel Itasca positioned off Howland Island, and they reported low fuel reserves.  Yet, they were never heard from again, and no reliable evidence of them has been found. That is why, prior to the assault on Tarawa, Marines were advised to be alert to any possibility the two aviators might have found their way to Tarawa.
http://news.discovery.com/history/us-history/amelia-earhart-resting-place.htm
http://www.biography.com/people/amelia-earhart-9283280?page=6
Roy W. Roush, Open Fire! (Apache Junction, Arizona:  Front Line Press, 2003), 201.]
Royal Colony Ship Nimanoa in her ‘better days’
Photo courtesy:   E.R. Bevington; permission to use above photos from Ric Gillespie, author of
FINDING AMELIA:  The True Story of the Earhart Disappearance (2009)
http://tighar.org/Publications/TTracks/15_1/mrsobrian.html
Fighter planes were called in to strafe the infiltrated amtracs then they concentrated on the old freighter, beached at the reef’s edge.  Each time a bomb scored a hit, a huge, billowing red cloud of dust and metal filled the air.  The determined Japs continue to fire on incoming Marines.  A Marine unit was finally dispatched to approach the hulk and in short order eliminated the surprised Jap gunners.
A Marine from our company had landed in shallow water near the scuttled freighter, possibly wounded by the same Jap gunners.  He attempted to seek cover behind the stern of the ship.  Barely standing up he sighted a figure approaching thought to be a Marine because of his helmet.  The figure sloshed through the shallow water, his rifle slung over his shoulder, unusual for a Marine.  Before the Marine realized it was a Jap, the enemy pulled the rifle from his shoulder without unslinging it and tried to thrust the bayonet at the Marine.  Without a weapon and dropped when he was hit, the Marine grabbed the oncoming bayonet with his bare hands.  With bleeding hands, he wrestled with his opponent.  Then the Jap tried to swing his rifle from his shoulder.  As he did, the Marine, still holding onto the bayonet, managed to bash its handle into the Jap’s race, until he fell.  The Marine continued to rain blows on the Jap’s head, finally forcing his head underwater and holding him there until there was no more resistance.  A passing amtrac witnessed the duel and picked up the battered and bleeding Marine, who would live to tell the tale.
Noon of the second day.  The shore party with their armored-plated bulldozers sealed up troublesome bunkers and machine gun nests along the beach, entombing many Japanese.
Shibasaki’s former Command Post, south side view, oriented northwest; November 1943
… after our Marines were finished !
http://www.nps.gov/history/history/online_books/npswapa/extContent/usmc/pcn-190-003120-00/sec6.htm
As work parties came ashore to assist in handling supplies, the remainder of our platoon was relieved and ordered to take up positions behind the big Jap blockhouse (Rear Admiral Keiji Shibasaki’s command post) to back up troops cleaning out the pockets of resistance with demolitions and flamethrowers.
Shibasaki’s former Command Post, south side, oriented north; November 2008
… 65 years after our Marines were finished!
Note concrete doorway protectors at ground level on both corners.
Note Dennis Covert standing at top of stairs, in passageway onto roof.
Photo by David Brown; Dennis Covert, email to author, December 31, 2013.
Shibasaki’s former Command Post, northeast corner; November 1943
… shortly after our Marines were finished!
Note large concrete chunk missing on structure’s corner facing camera,
after 5” shells from our destroyers in the lagoon did this damage.
Dennis Covert, email to author, January 1, 2014.
Shibasaki’s former Command Post, north side, November 2008
Note large concrete chunk missing on lower left corner; same corner as in previous photograph,
after 5” shells from our destroyers in the lagoon did this damage.  Dennis Covert on roof.
Photo by David Brown; Dennis Covert, email to author, December 31. 2013.
[The photographs above and below reveal the location to which Mike relocated the remainder of his platoon on D+1.]
Shibasaki’s former Command Post (full view, north side), November 2008
David Brown standing in center
Photo by Dennis Covert; Dennis Covert, email to author, December 31, 2013.
To a degree of accuracy of less than 15 feet, GPS readings of Shibisaki’s Command Post and Bonnyman’s Bunker are shown as follows:
SHIBISAKI'S COMMAND POST       (sw corner)                    N 01°  21.453'    E 172°   56.051'                           21 November 2008    @ 15:11:31 local time
BONNYMAN'S BUNKER                      (nw corner)                    N 01°  21.502'    E 172°  55.963'                          19 November 2008    @ 15:13:28 local time
From the original report containing GPS calculations by David Brown
Dennis Covert, email to author, December 31, 2013.
In terms of precisely identifying the locations of Shibisaki’s Command Post and Bonnyman’s Bunker, this writer very much appreciates the careful attention to detail and generosity by Dennis Covert (amateur WWII historian) and his son-in-law David Brown (professional engineer and land surveyor).  Permission to incorporate certain photographs and GPS data is also very much appreciated.
[Mike Masters continues …] By the end of the day, more than two-thirds of the island had been secured.  Our man "Hollywood," who liked to live it up, was a noted hot-rodder.  He tinkered with a Jap light tank until he got it started, then drove it up and down the airstrip next to our positions.  A stupid thing to do--he was immediately ordered to stop.
That evening, our platoon moved into a huge shell-hole made by a battleship salvo and dug foxholes for the night.  We were still in doubt as to what the Japanese fleet had in mind for us.  We knew it was just a matter of time until they retaliated to support their remaining forces.  Our intuition was correct.  Around midnight the entire western sky was covered with white streaks crisscrossing the horizon.  Enemy planes had been spotted, skimming the water and heading for Betio.  A lone “Betty” Mitsubishi bomber got through the flak and passed over the landing area, dropping a string of bombs.  There was a series of explosions, the last close to our position.  As the intruder roared overhead, I could see the “red meatballs” on the wings in the light of his exhausts.  Several fatalities were reported on that beach in the morning.
Mitsubishi G4M1 “Betty” bomber
3,700 mile range; speed 265 mph (max), 196 mph (cruise)
Admiral Yamamoto and his staff were travelling in a G4M1
when shot down by P-38s over Bougainville on 18 April 1943.
http://www.aviastar.org/air/japan/mitsubishi_g4m.php
[22 November, D+3]  By the third day, most of the island had been taken, except for small areas of resistance. We began to relax a little. During the lull another Marine and I decided to reconnoiter the eastern tail of the island on our own, making a pact to cover each other as we moved about. We reached a small, bombed-out building with suitcases and personal articles strewn about.  It must have been a storeroom:  the area was covered with offices’ uniforms, including gold-braided caps and epaulets.  We hit a bonanza!  Without any thought of covering each other, we both put down our weapons--a dumb thing to do--and started to explore and to fill our pockets.
Immediately, we heard someone behind us yelling in Japanese.  I spun around and was shocked to see a Jap pop out of a dugout and run toward us.  He was jabbering in Japanese, frantically waving his hands as he ran.  It sounded as if he was trying to say “Puul Haba” (Pearl Harbor), either in contempt or because he kne we used it many times as our password.
We had incidents with the Bushido Code on Guadalcanal, where Japanese blew themselves up rather than surrender or be captured, usually taking a few Marines with them.  With quick reflexes, I grabbed my carbine and fired from the hip, still in a kneeling position.  Simultaneously, I heard another shot from the edge of a palm grove.  The Jap dropped to the ground, dead.  More about the “Bushido Code:  The Eight Virtues of the Samurai,” can be found at the following hyperlink:
http://artofmanliness.com/2008/09/14/the-bushido-code-the-eight-virtues-of-the-samurai
A company of Marines on a mop-up patrol emerged from the tree line.  Just as the Jap had popped up, the leading Marine had opened fire, too.  The officer in charge barked, “What the hell are you Marines doing in this area?  Don’t you know it hasn’t been secured yet?”  We had wandered past the front lines into the Jap sector, which still had many stragglers and snipers.  “Get your asses out of here and back to your area!” he bellowed.  We did manage to fill our pockets with many items that proved valuable back in Hawaii.
When we started out for the eastern point, we witnessed a gruesome sight; a Japanese had hung himself from a post, the skin on his face dried taut from the hot tropical sun.  Two rows of gold teeth in his gaping mouth glistened in the sun.  When we returned through the same area, I noticed that his mouth was empty--a hideous practice acquired by some Marines either through hate or greed.
[WARNING:  Discretion is advised when viewing the following graphic image.]
We had heard that when a Japanese knew it was inevitable he would be killed or captured, he would kill himself by placing a grenade against his chest or by putting a rifle barrel under his chin or in his mouth, using his big toe to pull the trigger.  This was the somber scene we found in several bunkers.  We knew the warrior’s (Bushido) code, reinforced by superior officers, stated that to be captured was disgraceful, and that capture meant the soldier would never be allowed into warriors’ heaven.
Two Japanese Imperial Marines chose death over surrender
USMC photo
Our artillery and naval gunfire caught many Japs on the eastern tip of the island.  Hundreds of their bloated bodies were in the open trenches or in the long tank traps, possibly caught in the open while preparing for a bonsai night attack or while just moving about.  For days those fast-decaying bodies in the tropical sun covered the island with an unbearable stench.  It was said that sailors could even smell it offshore.
[22 November, D+3]  The last major resistance on Betio was still the big command post blockhouse just east of the pier ["Rear Admiral Keiji Shibasaki’s command post," writes Mike Masters], an irritation from the very first day.  The Japs were still pouring out a lot of lead from gun ports and sandbagged positions, regardless of all the bombing those positions took.
[In the following photograph, the reader sees the "sloped, sanded sides" of bunker Mike refers to.  This structure is what many refer to as "Bonnyman's Bunker," so named to honor the valiant and self-sacrificing assault led by 1st Lt. Alexander Bonnyman to capture this bunker on D+3.]
The “sloped, sanded sides” of the reinforced bunker Mike refers to are seen in the above photograph.
This structure is what many refer to as “Bonnyman’s Bunker,” so named to honor the valiant and self-
sacrificing assault led by 1st Lt. Alexander Bonnyman  to capture this bunker on D+3. (USMC photo)
http://www.tarawaontheweb.org/bonnyman.htm
http://claybonnymanevans.com/?page_id=5
Several of our flamethrowers and demolition men joined in a final charge up the sloped, sanded sides, under cover of small-arms fire.  The Japs were fanatics to the end.  Several ran out from covered spider holes on the roof of the bunker, firing and charging the Marines with fixed bayonets.  At times they fought hand-to-hand … a deadly game of “King of the Hill.”
[Mike Master’s reference to “a final charge up the sloped, sanded sides” causes some ambiguity. His reference to “sloped, sanded sides” in conjunction with the Japanese Command Post is a clue he is probably referring to the final major resistance on Betio that he witnessed: the large sand-covered reinforced concrete structure about 425 feet to the southeast of Shibasaki’s Command Post which was not sand-covered and had no sand slopes on its sides (as seen in the following photograph).]
Shibasaki’s former Command Post, northeast corner; November 1943
NOTE:  no “sloped, sanded” exterior walls and no sand covering the roof.
Dennis Covert, email to author, January 1, 2014
There were losses on both sides, but the Japs were no match for the Marines who bore in and methodically eliminated them. Gasoline was poured down air vents, followed by grenades. [Construction features found on Bonnyman’s Bunker but not on Shibasaki’s Command Post.]. The muffled explosions and screams could be heard coming out of the openings.  The remaining Japs, who didn’t even have time to consider the Bushido Code, came streaming out side entrances and down open trenches.  Every Marine within range opened fire on hundreds of fleeing Japs.  It was like a turkey shoot; there was really no place for them to run; the withering Marine cross-fire eliminated every man and the last major resistance.
The same blockhouse had received continuous fire for the past three days, with little or no effect.  I had watched a destroyer fire point-blank with their 5” turrets, only to knock out big chips of concrete from its sides [Details seen on Shibasaki’s Command Post but not on Bonnyman’s Bunker.].  The Japanese engineers had time to build a strong shelter against our gunfire, but it was still no match against the invincible Marines.  When I viewed the bunker up close, I realized why these Japs were able to hold out longer than others.  There were machine gun ports at strategic positions, baffles air vents on the roof (which did not stop the gasoline from going down), and protected rear entryways from where the Japs eventually came running.
A few yards away was a disabled light Jap tank, no doubt guarding the rear of the bunker.  Strewn about the tank were boxes of ammunition and dozens of bloated Japanese bodies.  It was obvious that some had their uniforms burned off by our flamethrowers or the tank's gasoline.  Most of the burnt nude bodies still had leggings on, some even their trousers.  In their decomposing state they all looked chubby.  Strangely, most of them were face down.  (The Japanese Field Manual stated:  "If you are slain in battle, you should be resolved to have your corpse facing the enemy.")  The few facing up had expressions of horror molded into their faces.  Even death had its fascination, especially when you viewed the deceased enemy who had attempted to defend himself.
The airfield had to be made operational as soon as possible to release aircraft carriers from staying in the area.  Bombardment was intentionally diverted from the airstrip. Even as Marines were still mopping up on the eastern tail of the island, naval CBs were ashore and already grading the few shell holes in the coral-and-cement-covered runway.  On November 23 (the last day of fighting on Betio), a lone Navy Hellcat fighter pilot made a low pass over the island; on the second approach he came in for a landing.
A U.S. Navy F6F from the USS Bunker Hill (CV-17)
lands at Hawkins Field, Betio, on 23 November 1943
http://www.tarawaontheweb.org/firstplane.htm
"Kelly landed on Hawkins Field around noon on the last day of fighting, 23 November after buzzing the island and circling once. Kelly was forced to fishtail his aircraft around the Seabee's bulldozers as they were already at work repairing and improving the airfield. After coming to a halt he climbed down and shook hands with the grinning Marines who had come running toward his plane. "Is it over?" was his question. "Pretty nearly," was the reply. Reportedly Kelly made no mention of the stink that enveloped the island to the Marines but did report seeing a great many dead men floating several miles out to sea."
Marines converged on his plane to shake his hand and welcome him.
Ensign William W. Kelly, the fighter pilot Mr. Masters refers to
http://www.tarawaontheweb.org/firstplane.htm
Ensign William W. Kelly
http://www.tarawaontheweb.org/firstpilot2.jpg
[In November and December 2012, this writer contacted Ensign Kelly’s son, William W. Kelly II, who is a respected, 33-year tenured anthropology professor at Yale University.  The son reports, “William Kelly was my father, and my three brothers and I are aware and proud of his Tarawa landing and his Navy service.  He actually stayed in the Navy after the war and remained a carrier pilot in the Korean War and afterwards.  He retired in the late 1960s as a captain and began a second career as a lawyer in Utica, NY (having graduated from Georgetown Law School while in the Navy in the 1950s).  He passed away at home in 2001.  Being here in New Haven, it is enjoyable to be close to New York City, where the aircraft carrier USS Intrepid is permanently based and open to the public.  I remember when my father served as Air Officer on the carrier, and we can now climb to the control tower and main Air Officer cabin as we once did when he was stationed onboard in the Mediterranean.”]  William W. Kelly II, emails to author, November 30, 1012 and December 6, 2012.
Marines cleaned out the last pockets of resistance with coordinated attacks.  The stubborn Japs were methodically eliminated.  Those who still persisted were covered and entombed by bulldozers.  No matter how thorough we were, a few snipers held out, taking pot-shots at anyone.
The island was quiet, and everyone began to relax a little.  It was time to clean up and see that our weapons were ready for any counterattack.  A group of us were washing under a Jap water tower that was filled with holes but somehow still holding water, when there was a sharp crack of a Jap rifle above us and a Marine next to me fell to the ground with a bullet between his eyes.  We grabbed our weapons and methodically sprayed the tops of palm trees until a dead Jap fell from one, just fifty feet away.  This sniping went on for days, even after our division left.
After going through seventy-two hours of hell, it was unbelievable that the battle was over.  The sounds of battle were gone; the quiet was deafening. The island looked like one big, dusty garbage dump, strewn with mangled junk, shattered palm trees, and dead bodies everywhere.  Those of us who had survived were dirty, tired, and hadn’t eaten a good meal since we left the transports.  Even with death about us we attempted to eat what field rations we had, although many of us hadn’t even touched those since we landed three days earlier.  During the excitement of battle, there wasn’t even time for a bowel movement.
Mopping-up operations continued on the eastern tip of the island.  The thousands of decaying bodies had to be buried immediately to prevent contamination.  Japanese bodies were laid in long, bulldozed graves. At first, Marines were buried individually until we realized that they, too had to be buried as quickly as possible.  Long trenches were bulldozed and the Marines were laid side-by-side, wrapped in ponchos and blankets and covered over by the bulldozers.
The first group of Marines were buried where they were found, the sites marked with crude crosses with their names inscribed.  The majority of Marines were found on the beaches where they had come in under withering fire those first three days.
Withering fire changes landscapes into moonscapes, as on Betio
http://saltofamerica.com/contents/displayArticle.aspx?18_176
Beach scenes encountered by Masters and men in his company
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/10/Tarawa_beach_HD-SN-99-03001.JPEG
Men from our company began scouting the beaches and found about fifteen from the first platoon, just yards from the beach where their amphibious tractor had lodged on a barbed wired barricade while attempt to reach the beach.  Some of these men, recruits with less than a year in the Marine Corps, had just joined the company in New Zealand.
The largest of 37 American cemeteries at Tarawa, November 1943
http://ww2db.com/image.php?image_id=5086
EPITAPH AT THE GATE OF THE SECOND MARINE DIVISION CEMETERY
ON BETIO ISLAND
by Captain Donald Jackson, USMC
To you, who lie within this coral sand,
We, who remain, pay tribute of a pledge,
That dying, thou shalt surely not have died in vain.
That when again bright morning dyes the sky
And waving fronds above shall touch the rain,
We give you this—that in those times
We will remember.  We lived and fought together, thou and we,
And sought to keep the flickering torch aglow
That all our loved ones might forever know
The blessed warmth exceeding flame,
The everlasting scourge of bondsman's chains,
Liberty and light.  When we with loving hands laid back the earth
That was for moments short to couch thy form,
We did not bid a last and sad farewell
But only, "Rest ye well."
Then with this humble, heartfelt epitaph
That pays thy many virtues and acclaim
We marked this spot, and murm'ring requiem,
Moved on to westward.
http://www.ww2gyrene.org/2ndmardiv_history_part_4C.htm
Tarawa post-battle:  “Old Glory” just prior to being raised
http://www.ww2gyrene.org/2ndmardiv_history_part_4C.htm
It was still a moving and arousing moment to hear a bugler sound “Attention!” followed by “Colors!”  Every Marine within earshot faced the direction of the flag, came to attention, and saluted as the flag was raised.  This was the symbol of a proud, free nation, of men serving their country, of many giving their lives, and of the rejoicing in avenging the Japanese atrocities.
November 22, 1943 (D+2) Betio declared secure, despite continuing worrisome skirmishes
http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/USMC-M-Tarawa/img/USMC-M-Tarawa-p61.jpg
One scene the public back in the States never saw in newsreels, newspapers, or even in books was the dual flag-raising ceremony I had witness on Tulagi, Solomon Islands, and now on Betio, Tarawa.  In each case, as an allied gesture because these islands had been British protectorates, the Union Jack was raised atop an adjacent palm tree the same time the American flag went up.  At the time I resented it and heard a lot of other Marines grumbling about it.  After tall the trouble of taking back the island, we felt that at least the brass could have had another ceremony to raise the Union Jack. (I have since noted in many historical military books, that in these flag-raising scenes the “other” flag was always cropped out and no mention was made of it.  Guess that was politics, which we were not supposed to understand.)
Before leaving, I toured the island to take a closer look at the total destruction of everything above ground.  Still cautious about entering dugouts and gun emplacements, I dropped in a few grenades after calling to make sure there were no Marines inside.  It was fascinating to see the number of huge dual-purpose guns and the many medium-to-small gun emplacements that took a toll of our comrades in those three days.
Western portion of Betio looking north-northwest
Orientation: north from Black Beach on south shore toward the “Bird’s Beak” (left) and "The Pocket" (right), from 500 feet altitude in a Douglas SBD-5 Dauntless scout-dive bomber
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Tarawa_aerial_view_24_Nov_1943.jpg
One of the their 8” guns that gave us trouble until a 16” shell from one of our battleships silenced it
http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/USMC-M-Tarawa/USMC-M-Tarawa-5.html
LVT-1 49 (“My Deloris) the first vehicle to reach Betio's shore, lies in her final resting place too riddled with shell holes to operate. After the battle, "My Deloris" was sent to the United States as an exhibit for War Bond drives and is now at the Tracked Vehicle Museum at Camp Del Mar, California
http://www.mca-marines.org/leatherneck/article/bloodiest-beachhead-ever#sthash.x2V6RW1K.dpuf
Near the main command post bunker, a safe had been blasted open, either by shelling or by some inquisitive Marine.  Strewn around were new twenty-yen notes, which we all stuffed into our pockets, knowing we were limited to what contraband we were allowed to bring back.  Currency was one item that could be easily traded off or sold.  Word got around that the safe had contained thousands of dollars in American currency, but as usual, no one seemed to remember what happened to the money.
Marine defense units arrived on the fourth day (D+3) to relieve the 2nd Marine Division.  We were ordered to move out.  Forming two lines, our platoon wearily proceeded to the pier and the waiting boats.  This time we were allowed to come aboard the troop transport USS Zeilin (APA-3) by way of the gangway.
USS Zeilin (APA-3)
http://www.navsource.org/archives/10/03/100300307.jpg
We were a sad-looking lot, looking more like walking zombies with coral dust in our hair and around our eyes and our clothes torn to ribbons. We were mostly silent as we boarded.  For days we just sat around on deck thinking of our good fortune and the fate of our Marine friends we left behind.  A familiar thought came to us all:  Why am I still alive?
After boarding, I held a platoon and roll call.  When we left Tarawa, all the men were notified to have their weapons with them.  Calling the platoon to attention, I began to walk down the lines.  Automatically, each man snapped his rifle or weapons up for inspection.  Hollywood came to a snappy “port arms,” and I wasn’t surprised to see that he had a Japanese rifle.  With a straight face he reported that his rifle had been damaged and he had been carrying the Jap rifle around for a few days, no doubt thinking that if he had brought two rifles aboard, someone would have questioned him about the Jap rifle.  I just couldn’t put this man down, especially with his ingenuity on top of his being a good Marine.  “Be sure to check out another rifle after we arrive in Hawaii,” I said.
The battle of Tarawa was a hard-won campaign.  The losses were questioned by the press and the public back home, but when evaluated, seemed to be well within the realm of casualties expected from a direct amphibious assault against a strongly defended island.  The 2nd Marine Division had 3,301 casualties, with 990 being fatal.  Japanese strength the day of the landing was 4,836 with 129 Korean laborers taken prisoner.  Only seventeen Japanese survived and were captured.  Not one of the garrisoned troops had escaped.  After the battle we were informed that General MacArthur’s bombers carrying thousand-pound “daisy cutter” bombs, which spew the ground with shrapnel, never arrived before our landing, adding to our displeasure of “Old Doug-Out-Doug, “ as MacArthur was fondly called by the Marines.
Months later, back in Hawaii, we were allowed to view censored, vivid, full-color films of the battle, taken by Marine combat cameramen.  Viewing the carnage of bloated and decimated bodies again brought flash-back memories of the engagement.  The film was so clear and vivid (advanced color film had been used) that many a Marine became nauseated and had chills (including me).  To this day, parts of that film have never been shown to the public.
Meanwhile, I can always kick back and reflect on what a peaceful end to a peaceful day must be like nowadays on Betio.  For example, I can only wonder what it might be like to see the sun going down across the lagoon toward Betio.  A warm breeze, the rustling of palm fronds and, otherwise, sheer quiet.
Of course, most importantly, I would say farewell to my comrades, "Rest in peace."
The sun goes down peacefully over the Red Beaches of Betio.
http://www.panoramio.com/photo/61611103
With all the technology available to us these days, different views on Tarawa exist that were almost unimaginable back in 1943. Take, for example, what our astronauts these days can see from the confines of their space shuttles in the cold and quiet of space.
Another peaceful view of Tarawa is from Space Shuttle Endeavor  . . .
from 209 miles in space in December 1998
Mission: STS088   Roll: 707   Frame: 6
Image courtesy of the Image Science & Analysis Laboratory, NASA Johnson Space Center
http://eol.jsc.nasa.gov/scripts/sseop/photo.pl?mission=STS088&roll=707&frame=6
The peaceful image of Tarawa from space is, in some ways, the opposite to the heat and noise of battle down on Tarawa Atoll.   On the other hand, in both images I still vividly remember friends lost, assault beaches, heat, thirst, hunger, noise, smells, the anchorages for our transports and the comradeship of buddies whom I will never forget.   Reflecting on all of that, I reaffirm here and now, just like the title of my book … Once a Marine, Always a Marine.  Semper Fi, Brothers!
So, with the battle for Tarawa now behind me, my unit and I were sent to Camp Tarawa on the Big Island of Hawaii, but first we went to Honolulu. The convoy made a short stopover to evacuate wounded and to allow us a few hours ashore to stretch our legs.  Being familiar with the base and knowing where the slop chute (post exchange bar) was, I suggested to a buddy that we could get to the other side of the base, grab a few beers, and be back before our ship’s departure.  We hitched a ride right up to the slop chute door and began downing beers like a couple of camels just off the desert.  Time slipped by; we had gone past just quenching our thirst.  We headed back to the docks and to our surprise, not a ship was tied up.  They had all hauled ass, heading down the channel in single file.  Our transport was slowly turning to follow the convoy.
Our first thought:  We are both AWOL and will be court-martialed, followed by, How can we get aboard?  It was a sad situation.  I jammed my hands in my pockets, pockets stuffed with the new, Japanese twenty-yen notes.  Noting a sailor working on a motor launch on the dock, I asked, “Will you take some Jap money for a ride to our ship?”  The sailor was hesitant, until I mentioned its souvenir value.  “Hop in,” he said.  “You got a deal.”
Marines lining the rail cheered us on as our boat, churning the water, finally equaled the speed of the ship and pulled up under the last landing net still draped over the side.  There were whistles and cheers as we grabbed the net and climbed aboard, even as deckhands continued to haul in the net.  A few minutes later, as we headed aft, my first lieutenant stopped me and said, “Say Mike, I’d swear that one of those Marines who just climbed aboard looked just like you.”  I smiled and replied, “Is that right, Sir?” and continued below deck.
We finally got to Hilo (on the northeast coast of Hawaii, under cloud cover in the following photo).  The entire 2nd Marine Division was encamped at a new camp appropriately called Camp Tarawa, on the sprawling Parker Ranch land situated between the two peaks of Mauna Kea (13,803’ altitude) and Mauna Loa (13,769’ altitude).
There may have been swimming on the beaches, but at our 10,000-foot elevation the weather was even cooler than anticipated for the month of December.  Snow was visible on the two peaks; although it was warmer when the sun shone, the nights were cold enough for ice to form on puddles of water.
Mauna Kea (upper large white area) and Mauna Loa (lower larger white area)
Camp Tarawa is located in the large valley between the two peaks on the Big Island of Hawaii.
Source: eoimages.gsfc.nasa.gov Hawaii.A2002059.2055.500m.jpg
The top brass decided that the cooler climate would arrest the remainder of malaria cases still hanging on from Guadalcanal.  The Parker Ranch was the most isolated location for a camp--ideal to train and prime the Marines for their next landing.  All we found were wood platforms and stacks of canvas tents; nothing had been erected.  For the next two weeks Marines turned to, still in light tropical fatiques, putting the camp together.  Jackets and blankets were in short supply until our personal sea bags arrived.  In the meantime, the Army was reluctantly “lending” us some blankets.
Our company fared better.  We were temporarily detached from the division and were stationed a few miles from Hilo to unload transports at the docks.  Several ships had not been combat-loaded (in an orderly manner) in Wellington, as they thought our November 1943 departure was just for a training exercise.  These ships were not unloaded at Betio, which left one big mess to unload at Hilo.  Seasonal rains turned many of the unprotected items into heaps of rubbish, which were skip-loaded onto trucks.
We were pleased to hear about being billeted near Hilo, but we had second thoughts upon entering our camp.  Originally designed to be a Japanese prisoner of war camp, then condemned as unfit for the Japs, it now was supposedly suitable for Marines.  Biuilt on lava mounds up to five feet high, the only level spots in the camp were the company office, mess hall, and road leading into camp.  The shining mounds were slippery and difficult to pass between even during dry weather, so imagine how theh were traversed under the influence of a few beers!   Tents were at different elevations over mounds that were not lined up, with the main street looking like an anthill obstacle course.
Camp Tarawa, Parker Ranch, Big Island of Hawaii
http://www.waimeagazette.com/Mar95_WaimeaRemembersTarawa.htm
A strange notice was posted on the company bulletin board: “Souvenirs (minus any live ammunition) will be allowed to be shipped home, up to 200 lbs, free.”  None of us could believe it.  We were never allowed to carry out contraband equipment, unless it was a Jap pistol, Samurai sword, or flags.  Even if we did, we had to dispose of it in the rear areas by selling it to sailors.
If the notice was a surprise, a bigger surprise was when two Marines came walking down the company street carrying a Japanese heavy Nambu machine gun. It was boxed up, mailed, and no questions asked!  We questioned, “How did he bring it ashore and keep it concealed?  Good thing no one showed up with a light Jap tank!
The company returned to Camp Tarawa with the rest of the division.  Life there, though, wasn’t all work and no play!  I remember the rodeo.
The rodeo and barbecue on the Parker Ranch was good for moral purposes.
http://www.waimeagazette.com/Mar95_WaimeaRemembersTarawa.htm
After all, Camp Tarawa was located on one of the largest cattle ranches in the world, and they donated steers, and the division supplied cowboys to ride the bucking steers.
A U.S.O. group provided entertainment, plus we had a limit of two cans of U.S. beer each.  As usual, though, chiselers were continuously cutting in front of the line and hoarding the beer, preventing others from getting their allotment.  On the second day of beer rationing, I was assigned as Sergeant of the Guard, but before going on duty, I was asked to attend with other NCOs a stern lecture on the beer problem by a “boot” platoon sergeant, as the old salts called him (he came straight out of boot amp when we formed in San Diego, clerked in the company office, always remained with the rear echelon along with our records and somehow received automatic promotions).
Back to the beer…that afternoon while on watch, one of the guards on the beer detail came running up to me.  “Hey Sarge, guess who just chiseled in the beer line, along with a few of his friends?  The boot sarge!”  The sentry, a replacement private, was in a spot and didn’t know how to handle the situation to carry out his orders.  Naturally, it was up to me to do something about it.  Proceeding to the front of the line, I tapped the boot sarge on the shoulder and, with my finger, pointed “Out” to him and his friends.  He looked surprised and indignant but knew I was following his orders.  Knowing that I was determined and that all the men in the line were waiting to see if he was going to pull rank on me, he and his friends left the line, grumbling as they departed.  Spontaneously the entire beer line burst into cheers and applause.  I had lost points with him, but I felt my integrity with the men was more important.
A line-up for some attraction at Camp Tarawa!  Beer?
http://www.waimeagazette.com/Mar95_WaimeaRemembersTarawa.htm
I remember, too, a serious case of mistaken identity at Camp Tarawa.  The islanders on the Big Island were Hawaiian or of oriental descent.  Some Marines still could not distinguish between the Japs of Guadalcanal and Tarawa with these oriental islanders.  Dating or even speaking to the few Japanese girls in Hilo was also difficult.  It was just as well, as Marines had acquired a deep hatred for anybody that looked Japanese.
Hilo was an hour’s ride away over a poor dirt road.  The town couldn’t even hold more than two companies of Marines on liberty.  An alternative was to send small groups for short periods to local towns like Kamuela.  One Marine, still psyched by the fierce fighting on Tarawa, still in a state of combat fatigue, went into Kamuela for a haircut. The barbershop was a combination store – gas station and barber shop – operated by a Japanese-American couple.  The wife had completed the haircut.  As she went out to gas a car, her husband lathered the Marine’s face for the final trim.  At this point something was triggered in the Marine’s mind, and he allegedly killed the barber.  Combat fatigue, as we called it, affected each of us in different ways.  I can now understand why, upon returning to the States, the brass gave us a short stay at the San Diego Marine Base before allowing us to go home on leave.
Camp Tarawa was also the training ground for the next campaign.  The vast maneuver space below Mauna Kea was already being used and new replacements were being molded into fighting units.  With thousands of men, equipment, and planes in a combat exercise of this magnitude and using live ammunition to simulate actual conditions, accidents were expected.  There were injuries and some fatalities due to close support strafing aircraft firing too close to forward elements.
With dress rehearsals completed and logistics worked out, orders were issued to all units.  Our platoon again was assigned the mission of coordinating the movement of supplies ashore in our respective battalion beachheads, because of experience gained on previous campaigns.  And lucky me, as a reconnaissance NCO, two assistants and I were again going in with the third assault wave at what turned out to be Saipan (Operation Forager), a little over 3,700 miles west of Honolulu, in the Marianas.  All of that, though, is another story.
Daily march of the Camp Tarawa Marine Band through Waimea
http://www.waimeagazette.com/Mar95_WaimeaRemembersTarawa.htm
Morning colors 2nd Marine Division – Camp Tarawa, 1944
http://www.camptarawamcl.com/
I understand that Camp Tarawa still lives!  Camp Tarawa Detachment #1255 of the Marine Corps League (MCL) exists to honor and perpetuate the history of the 55,000 men of the 2nd and 5th Marine Divisions and the Navy Corpsmen and Seabees who trained at old Camp Tarawa between December 1943 and November 1945.  Of these men, a total of 5,145 were killed in action or died of their wounds.
The dedicated staff of Camp Tarawa Detachment #1255, through The Camp Tarawa Foundation, collaborate for charitable, literary and educational purposes, including fund raising for the construction of the new nearly 20,000 square foot Camp Tarawa Museum and Educational Center.
http://www.camptarawamcl.com/
Visitors are welcome!  Tours of about 3 hours in length are conducted around the 42,000 acres that made up the Waikoloa Maneuver ranges to view the site of the proposed Camp Tarawa Museum-Educational Center and to a viewing site at 2,500 feet in elevation where guests can enjoy a spectacular look out over the entire area.  The tours continue to the Camp Tarawa Memorial Monument, the Parker Ranch and the town of Waimea, the Waimea County Park (where the baseball field and parade ground were located) and on to a quick look at Buster Brown (the hill Marines climbed every day in preparation for the assault on Mt. Suribachi on Iwo Jima). And finally, the tours continue to the National Park Service Pu’ukohola National Historic site for a moving PowerPoint slide show, before going to the Hapuna State Beach and old Camp Drewes where the Amtracs were based and the Snipers and Scouts trained in rubber boats.
http://www.camptarawamcl.com/contact.html
Medals earned during World War II include:
(1)  Purple Heart                               (2)  WW II Victory              (3)  Marine Corps Good Conduct
(4)  Asiatic-Pacific Campaign                    (5)  American Defense Service
(6)  PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION  (Guadalcanal)
OPERATION  WATCHTOWER
GUADALCANAL  OPERATION
4-Feb-43
Cited in the Name of the President of the United States
THE  FIRST  MARINE  DIVISION  (REINFORCED)
Under command of Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift, USMC
CITATION:
"The officers and enlisted men of the First Marine Division, Reinforced, on August 7 to 9, 1942, demonstrated outstanding gallantry and determination in successfully executing forced landing assaults against a number of strongly defended Japanese positions on Tulagi, Gavutu, Tanambogo, Florida and Guadalcanal, British Solomon Islands, completely routing all enemy forces and seizing a most valuable base and airfield within the enemy zone of operations in the South Pacific Ocean. From the above period until 9 December 1942, this Reinforced Division not only held their important strategic positions despite determined and repeated Japanese naval, air and land attacks, but in a series of offensive operations against strong enemy resistance drove the Japanese from the proximity of the airfield and inflicted great losses on them by land and air attacks. The courage and determination displayed in these operations were of an inspiring order."
Frank Knox
Secretary of the Navy
http://www.ww2gyrene.org/spotlight_2ndmardiv_awards.htm#DIVISION
(7)  PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION  (Tarawa)
OPERATION  GALVANIC
ASSAULT  AND  CAPTURE  OF  TARAWA
The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the
PRESIDENTIAL  UNIT  CITATION
to  the
SECOND  MARINE  DIVISION,  REINFORCED
consisting of Division Headquarters, Special Troops (including Company C, 1st Corps Medium Tank Battalion), Service Troops, 2nd, 6th, 8th, 10th and 18th Marine Regiments in the Battle of Tarawa,
"For outstanding performance in combat during the seizure and occupation of the Japanese-held Atoll of Tarawa, Gilbert Islands, November 20 to 24, 1943. Forced by the treacherous coral reefs to disembark from their landing craft hundreds of yards off the beach, the Second Marine Division (Reinforced) became a highly vulnerable target for devastating Japanese fire. Dauntlessly advancing in spite of rapidly mounting losses, the Marines fought a gallant battle against crushing odds, clearing the limited beachheads of snipers and machine guns, reducing powerfully fortified enemy positions and completely annihilating the fanatically determined and strongly entrenched Japanese forces. By the successful occupation of Tarawa, the Second Marine Division (Reinforced) has provided our forces with highly strategic and important air and land bases from which to continue future operations against the enemy; by the valiant fighting spirit of these men, their heroic fortitude under punishing fire and their relentless perseverance in waging this epic battle in the Central Pacific, they have upheld the finest traditions of the United States Naval Service."
For the President
JAMES FORRESTAL
Secretary of the Navy
http://www.ww2gyrene.org/spotlight_2ndmardiv_awards.htm#tarawa
SARGE,  STAND  TALL!   WELL  DONE!
You will always be a Marine, and you are justifiably proud of that.  And we are proud of you.  At age 89, you clearly show the same inextinguishable spirit and energy as when you joined the Marine Corps at age 17 in 1939.  Your example of service to our country inspires others to follow.   Thank you for your permission to use selected passages from Once a Marine, Always a Marine (1988) as the basis for this report.  We thank you for your service, and we will remember.
SEMPER  FI,  MIKE!
Received   9 August 2012, updated 13 November 2013
Return to ROSTER