After that, he left his cabin, headed aft, and pa.s.sed through a door opening onto the open deck. This deck had previously been a promenade where the affluent could take a const.i.tutional or sit on deck chairs in an environment denied to the less affluent down below. Now he had trouble making his way past the bulky life rafts that had been lashed on the deck to provide at least a shot at survival, should the USS Lowell Hutchins be torpedoed.

There was still enough light to see several of the ships of the Amphibious Force. There were eighty-two ships in all, sailing in three concentric circles. The twelve transports, including the USS Lowell Hutchins, formed the inner circle. Next came a circle of cruisers and, outside that, the screening force of destroyers.

General Harris stared at the ships long enough to reflect (again) that although it appeared to be a considerable armada, it was not large enough to accomplish their mission with a reasonable chance of success. He then made his way down three ladders to what had once been the second of the tourist decks, and through a pa.s.sageway to cabin D-123, where he knocked at the door.

When there was no response, he put his mouth to^ the slats in the door and called, "Stecker!"

"Come!"

He pushed the door open. Major Jack NMI Stecker, Commanding Officer, 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, wearing only his skivvies, was sitting on the deck of the tiny cabin beside the narrow single bunk that formed part of the bulkhead.

"Jack, what the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Harris asked.

Stecker turned and, seeing the General, jumped to his feet.

"At ease, Major," Harris said, just a trifle sarcastically. "What the h.e.l.l were you doing down there?"

"I was cleaning my piece, Sir," Stecker said, gesturing at the bunk.

Harris went to look. There was a rifle, in pieces, spread out on the bunk.

Harris snorted, and then extended the coffee pitcher.

"I thought you might like some coffee, Jack," he said.

"I'm pretty well coffeed out, Sir."

"Jack. Trust me. You need a cup of coffee."

"Yes, Sir," Stecker said.

Harris set the cups down on a steel shelf, filled each half-full of the mixture of "bore cleaner" and coffee, and handed one to Stecker.

Stecker sipped his suspiciously, smiled, and said, "Yes, Sir, the General is right. This is just what I needed."

Harris smiled back. "We generals are always right, Jack. You should try to remember that. What are you doing with the Garand? And now that I think about it, where the h.e.l.l did you get it?"

"I found it on post at Quantico, General," Stecker said. "And just as soon as I can find time, I will turn it in to the proper authorities."

Harris snorted. He walked to the bunk and picked up the stripped receiver. His expert eye picked out the signs of accurizing.

"I forgot," he said. "You think this a pretty good weapon, don't you?"

"It's a superb weapon," Stecker said. "I've shot inch-and-a-half groups at two hundred yards with that one."

"Bulls.h.i.t."

"No bulls.h.i.t. And the kid-I shouldn't call him a kid-Joe Howard. He took a commission, and is now off doing something hush-hush for G-2-the man who did the accuracy job on that one had one that was more accurate than this one."

"You realize that ninety-five percent of the people in the Corps think the Garand is a piece of s.h.i.t that can never compare to the Springfield?"

"Then ninety-five percent of the people in the Corps are wrong."

"Ninety-five percent of the people in this Amphibious Force think that Guadalca.n.a.l is going to be a Cakewalk, a live-fire exercise with a secondary benefit of taking some j.a.panese territory."

"Ninety-five percent of the people in this Amphibious Force have never heard a shot fired in anger," Stecker said.

"Is that the same thing as saying they're wrong, too?" Harris asked.

"You're putting me on the spot," Stecker said uncomfortably.

"That's why I'm sharing my bore cleaner with you," Harris said. "I want to get you drunk, so you'll give me a straight answer."

Stecker looked at him without replying.

"Come on, Jack," Harris said. "We go back a long way. I want to know what you're thinking."

Stecker shrugged, and then asked, "You ever give any thought to why the bra.s.s are going ahead with this, when they d.a.m.ned well know we're not ready?"

"You're talking about the drill?" Harris asked.

The "drill," the practice landings in the Fiji Islands that the convoy carrying the Amphibious Force had just come from, had been an unqualified disaster. Nothing had gone as it was supposed to.

"That's part of it, but that's not what I meant," Stecker said. "The bra.s.s knew before the Fiji drill that the LCP(L)s were no f.u.c.king good."

There were 408 landing craft in the Amphibious Force. Of these, 308 were designated LCP(L), a thirty-six-foot landing craft with a fixed bow. In other words, when the craft touched sh.o.r.e, personnel aboard would have to exit over the bow and sides, rather than across a droppable ramp. Similarly, supplies would have to be manhandled over the sides. And, of course, LCP(L)s could not discharge vehicles or other heavy cargo onto the beach.

"They're all we have, Jack. We can't wait to re-equip with LCP(R)s or LCMs."

Both the thirty-six-foot LCP(R) and the forty-five-foot LCM had droppable ramps. The LCP(R) could discharge over its ramp 75mm and 105mm howitzers and one-ton trucks. The LCM could handle 90mm and five-inch guns and heavier trucks.

"Ever wonder why we can't?" Stecker asked softly.

"Because the j.a.panese are almost finished with their air base on Guadalca.n.a.l. We can't afford to let them do that. We have to grab that air base before they make it operational."

"That's what I mean. The j.a.panese know how important that air base is. To them. And to us-if we take it away from them and start operating out of it ourselves. So they're going to fight like h.e.l.l to keep us from taking it; and if we do, they're going to fight like h.e.l.l to take it back."

"That's what we're paid to do."

"No cakewalk. No live-fire exercise. An important objective. If it's important to them, they're going to be prepared to defend it. We're going to have three-fourths of our landing barges exposed as the troops try to get over the sides and onto the beach. And once we start manhandling cargo out of those d.a.m.ned boats... Jesus, if they have any artillery at all, or decent mortar men, or, for that matter, just some well-emplaced machine guns, we're going to lose those boats! No boats, no reinforcements, no ammunition, no rations."

"You don't sound as if you're sure we can carry it off," Harris said. "Is that what you think?"

"I wouldn't say this to anyone but you, but I don't know. I've got some awful good kids, and they'll try, but balk-courage, if you like-sometimes isn't enough."

Brigadier General Lewis T. Harris and Major Jack NMI Stecker had known each other for most of their adult lives. They had been in combat all over the Caribbean basin together. Harris didn't have to recall Stecker's Medal of Honor for proof of his personal courage. Stecker was no coward. He was calling the upcoming battle for Guadalca.n.a.l as he saw it.

Harris was afraid Stecker's a.n.a.lysis was in the X-ring.

"Have some more coffee, Jack," Harris said.

"No, thank you, Sir."

" 'No, thank you'? You getting old, Jack? Taken up religion?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm getting old," Stecker replied. He pulled a canvas rucksack from under the mattress of his bunk, and took from it a large pink bottle which bore a label from the Pharmacy, Naval Dispensary, Quantico, Virginia. Under a skull and cross-bones, it read, CAUTION!! HIGHLY TOXIC!! FOR TREATMENT OF ATHLETE'S FOOT ONLY, IF FLUID TOUCHES EYES OR MOUTH, FLOOD COPIOUSLY WITH WATER AND SEEK IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION!!

He put the bottle to his mouth and took a healthy pull, then exhaled in appreciation.

Harris chuckled.

"I'm giving some serious thought to religion, General, but I haven't said anything to the chaplain yet," Stecker said. "Do you have to go, or can we sit around and drink coffee, cure my athlete's feet, and tell sea stories?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack," Harris chuckled. "But you better put that Garand back together before you take another pull at that pink bottle and forget how."

(Four) Off Cape Esperance Guadalca.n.a.l, Solomon Islands 0240 Hours 7 August 1942 At 0200, Transport Groups X and Y, the Amphibious Force of Operation PESTILENCE, reached Savo Island, which lay between the islands of Guadalca.n.a.l and Florida. The skies were clear, and there was some light from a quarter moon, enough to make out the land ma.s.ses and the other ships.

The fifteen transports of Transport Group X turned and entered Sealark Channel, between Savo and Guadalca.n.a.l. They carried aboard the major elements of the 1st Marine Division and were headed for the beaches of Guadalca.n.a.l.

Transport Group Y sailed on the other side of Savo Island, between it and Florida Island, and headed toward their destination, Florida, Tulagi, and Gavutu islands. Group Y consisted of four transports carrying 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, and other troops, and four destroyer transports. These were World War I destroyers that had been converted for use by Marine Raiders by removing two of their four engines and converting the reclaimed s.p.a.ce to troop berthing. These carried the 1st Raider Battalion.

The Guadalca.n.a.l Invasion Force was headed for what the Operations Plan called "Beach Red." This was about six thousand yards east of Lunga Point, more or less directly across Sealark Channel from where the Tulagi/Gavutu landings were to take place. The distance across Sealark Channel was approximately twenty-five miles.

The Guadalca.n.a.l Fire Support Group (three cruisers and four destroyers) began to bombard a.s.signed targets on Guadalca.n.a.l at 0614, adding their destructive power to the aerial bombing by U.S. Army Air Corps B-17s which had been going on for a week. At 0616, the Tulagi Fire Support Group (one cruiser and two destroyers) opened fire on Tulagi and Gavutu.

By 0651 the transports of both groups dropped anchor nine thousand yards off their respective landing beaches. Landing boats were put over the side into the calm water, and nets woven of heavy rope were put in place along the sides of the transports. Marines began to climb down the ropes into the landing boats.

Minesweepers began to sweep the water between the ships of both transport groups and their landing beaches. No mines were found.

The only enemy vessel encountered was a small gasoline-carrying schooner in Sealark Channel. It burned and then exploded under both Naval gunfire and machine-gun fire from Navy fighter aircraft and dive bombers. These were operating from carriers maneuvering seventy-five miles from the invasion beaches.

The Navy sent forty-three carrier aircraft to attack Guadalca.n.a.l, and nearly as many-forty-one-to attack Tulagi and Gavutu. The aircraft attacking Tulagi either sank or set on fire eighteen j.a.panese seaplanes.

Zero-Hour for Operation PESTILENCE, when Marines were to hit Beach Red on Guadalca.n.a.l, was 0910. H-Hour, when Marines would go ash.o.r.e on Tulagi, was an hour and ten minutes earlier, at 0800. But the first Marine landing in the Solomons took place across the beaches of Florida Island. That operation, however, did not rate having its own Hour in the Operations Order.

At 0740, B Company, 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines, went ash.o.r.e near the small village of Haleta, on Florida Island. Their mission was to secure an elevated area from which the j.a.panese could bring Beach Blue on Tulagi under fire. They encountered no resistance; there were no j.a.panese in the area.

At 0800, the first wave of the Tulagi force-landing craft carrying Baker and Dog Companies of the 1st Raider Battalion- touched ash.o.r.e on Blue Beach. There was one casualty. A Marine was instantly killed by a single rifle shot. But there was no other resistance; the enemy had not elected to defend Tulagi on the beach, but from caves and earthen bunkers in the hills inland and to the south.

The landing craft returned to the transports and loaded the second wave (Able and Charley Companies, 1st Raiders) and put them ash.o.r.e. Then a steady stream of landing craft made their way between the transports and the beach and put the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, on sh.o.r.e.

Once on Tulagi, the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, crossed the narrow island to their left (northwest) to clear out the enemy, while the Raiders turned to their right (southeast) and headed toward the southern tip of the island. About 3,500 yards separates the southern tip of Tulagi from the tiny island of Gavutu (515 by 255 yards) and the even smaller (290 by 310 yards) island of" Tanambogo, which was connected to Gavutu by a concrete causeway.

Operation PESTILENCE called for the invasion of Gavutu by the 1st Parachute Battalion at 1200 hours. The parachutists, once they had secured Gavutu, were to cross the causeway and secure Tanambogo.

The Raiders encountered no serious opposition until after noon. And 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, encountered no serious opposition moving in the opposite direction until about the same time.

Off Guadalca.n.a.l, at 0840, the destroyers of the Guadalca.n.a.l Fire Support Group took up positions to mark the line of departure for the landing craft, five thousand yards north of Beach Red.

Almost immediately, small liaison aircraft appeared over Beach Red and marked its 3,200 yard width with smoke grenades.

Immediately after that, at exactly 0900, all the cruisers and destroyers of the Guadalca.n.a.l Fire Support Group began to bombard Beach Red and the area extending two hundred yards insh.o.r.e.

The landing craft carrying the first wave of the Beach Red invasion force (the 5th Marines, less their 2nd Battalion, which was on Tulagi) left the departure line on schedule. When the Landing Craft were 1,300 yards off Beach Red, the covering bombardment was lifted.

At 0910, on a 1,600-yard front, the 5th Marines began to land on the beach, the 1st Battalion on the right (west), and the 3rd Battalion on the left (east). Regimental Headquarters came ash.o.r.e at 0938. Minutes later they were joined by the Heavy Weapons elements of the regiment.

Again, there was virtually no resistance on the beach. As the landing craft returned to the transports to bring the 1st Marines ash.o.r.e, the 5th Marines moved inland, setting up a defense perimeter six hundred yards off Beach Red, along the Tenant River on the west, the Tenavatu River on the east, and a branch of the Tenant on the south.

Once it had become apparent that they would not be in danger from j.a.panese artillery on or near the beach, the transports began to move closer to the beach, dropping anchor again seven thousand yards away.

At about this point, serious problems began with the offloading process on the beach. In many ways these duplicated the disastrous trial run in the Fiji Islands.

The small and relatively easy-to-manhandle 75mm pack howitzers (originally designed to be carried by mules) of the 11th Marines (the artillery regiment) had come ash.o.r.e with the a.s.sault elements of the 5th Marines.

The 105mm howitzers now came ash.o.r.e. But because there were not enough drop-ramp landing craft to handle them, they did not bring their "prime movers." The prime mover intended to tow the 105mm howitzer was the "Truck, 2 1/2 Ton, 6x6," commonly called the "six-by-six." Six-by-six refers to the number of driving wheels. The standard six-by-six actually had eight wheels in the rear, for a total of ten powered wheels. So equipped, the six-by-six became legendary in its ability to carry or tow enormous loads anywhere.

But the 11th Marines were not equipped with six-by-sixes. Instead, they had been issued a truck commonly referred to as a "one-ton." It was rated as having a cargo capacity of one ton (as opposed to the two-and-a-half-ton capacity of the six-by-six), and it had only four powered wheels with which to move itself through mud, sand, or slippery terrain.

Since there were insufficient drop-bow landing craft to move this "prime mover" immediately onto Beach Red, when the 105mm howitzers arrived on the beach, there was no vehicle capable of towing them inland to firing positions-except for a few overworked amphibious tractors, which had a tanklike track and could negotiate sand and mud.

These were pressed into service to move the 105mm howitzers. But in so doing, their metal tracks chewed up the primitive roads-as well as whatever field telephone wires they crossed. That effectively cut communication between the advanced positions and the beach and the several headquarters.

Within an hour or so of landing on the beach, moreover, the Marines were physically exhausted. For one thing, the long periods of time they'd spent aboard the troop transports had caused them to lose much of the physical toughness they'd acquired in training.

For another, Guadalca.n.a.l's temperature and high humidity quickly sapped what strength they had. And the effects of the temperature and humidity were magnified because they were slogging through sand and jungle and up hills carrying heavy loads of rifles, machine guns, mortars, and the ammunition for them.

And there was not enough water. Although medical officers had strongly insisted that each man be provided with two canteens (two quarts) of drinking water, there were not enough canteens in the Pacific to issue a second canteen to each man.

The Navy had been asked, and had refused, to provide beach labor details of sailors to a.s.sist with the unloading of freight coming ash.o.r.e from the landing craft, and then to move the freight off the beach to make room for more supplies.

It was presumed by Naval planners that the Marines could provide their own labor details to offload supplies from landing craft and that trucks would be available to move the offloaded supplies from the beach inland.

Marines exhausted by the very act of getting ash.o.r.e managed slowly to unload supplies from landing craft, further exhausting themselves in the process. But then, at first, there were no trucks to move the supplies off the beach; and when the one-ton trucks finally began to come ash.o.r.e, they proved incapable of negotiating the sand and roads chewed up by amphibious tractors.

The result was a mess. Landing craft loaded with supplies were stacked up three rows deep off the beach. They were unable even to reach the beach, much less rapidly discharge their cargoes.

(Five) Aboard LCP(L) 36 Off Gavutu Island 1225 Hours 7 August 1942 First Lieutenant Richard B. Macklin, USMC, was unhappy with Operation PESTILENCE for a number of reasons, and specifically with his role in the operation.

He had arrived at the 1st Parachute Battalion three weeks earlier after long and uncomfortable voyages, first aboard a destroyer from San Diego, and then a mine sweeper from Pearl Harbor. When he had finally reached the 1st Parachute Battalion, the commanding officer, Major Robert Williams, had promptly told him that he hadn't expected him and frankly didn't know what the h.e.l.l to do with him.

"I had rather hoped, Sir, that in view of my experience, I might be given a company."

Macklin felt sure service as a company commander would get him his long-overdue promotion.