The Pacific (21 page)

In the morning no one from the patrol eagerly shared details about it. The officers in battalion headquarters were angry. Regimental HQ was said to be angry. The 1/7 patrol had grown into a complicated offensive before degenerating into a mess. Able and Baker companies had found themselves on a hill on the far side of the Matanikau River, cut off from the marine lines, surrounded by enemy forces. No one had brought a radio. With the enemy closing in, they had taken off their T-shirts and spelled H-E-L-P. A pilot happened to see the sign and radioed in. Hearing the news, Chesty jumped aboard a destroyer and went racing toward the scene. With its five- inch deck gun, the destroyer
Monssen
had cleared a path from the Alamo to the ocean, and the boys had run for their lives following the line of explosions.

With the enemy running hard to cut the marines off, John's good friend, Platoon Sergeant Anthony P. Malanowski, Jr., of Able, had picked up a BAR and covered the retreat. The marines reached the beach under heavy fire. Puller had some Higgins boats waiting for them, manned by coastguardsmen and navy coxswains brave enough to be sitting ducks. The loaded boats had only just gotten away; three coxswains had been wounded. No wonder the rifle platoons of the 1/7 had returned in a foul mood. After ten days on Guadalcanal, the battalion had suffered 10 percent casualties, including nine officers.
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No one wanted to think about what the Japanese were doing at that moment to the marines who had been unable to make the run to the boats--men like Tony Malanowski, who had given them time to get away. So they stopped talking about the mission entirely. The battalion moved across the airfield area, south, to the jungle beyond the airport.

ISOLATED IN A THICKET SOUTH OF THE AIRFIELD, SID'S SQUAD HEARD AN ABBREVIATED report: "1st Battalion, 7th, surrounded in ambush. 2nd Battalion sent up to their aid." The mortarmen had also heard that all of the ships of the Imperial Japanese Navy were sailing toward them--nothing new there. They had managed to augment the spoonfuls of rice served at battalion with steak and beans cooked by Deacon. One of the mortarmen standing guard, Lester, heard a column marching toward them on the trail and, as ordered, Les stepped forward and challenged. A raspy voice replied: "This is Lieutenant Colonel Puller, Commanding Officer of the First Battalion, Seventh Marines: the best damn outfit in the United States Marine Corps."
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"Pass, friend," Lester stammered as Chesty Puller stalked past, the barest glimmer of a wink in his eye for the young marine on guard. The marines marching behind "the living legend," as Les later described the colonel, had just grinned at him.

SHIFTY KEPT HIMSELF AS CLEAN AS POSSIBLE. HE BOUGHT FOOD ON THE BLACK market as he could, but he ate the worms in his rice. He ate grass, leaves, whatever would fill the void. He told jokes, played softball, teased his friends, and kept an eye out for others, like him, who were playing to win. Shifty knew he needed a team of men whom he could trust--for survival, if not escape. Two likely fellows, Mike Dobervich and Jack Hawkins, bunked in his barracks and they were both marines, which was important. The three men had all heard a rumor that one thousand prisoners would be sent to another camp. They discussed the idea of volunteering to go. In the past each prisoner had endeavored to miss such shipments; some of those POWs had reportedly been sent to Japan. However, they agreed no place could be worse than Cabanatuan. To stay was to die.

On the morning of September 26, the prisoners learned that the guards had foiled an escape attempt by three officers. The circumstances of the escape seemed a little odd. No trial was held. Just outside the fence in full view of all, the guards tied the wrists of each of the three escapees behind them. A rope from the post above them was tied to their wrists and suspended each body just enough so only their toes could touch the ground. Under the supervision of their officers, the guards beat them until their faces were unrecognizable. The men hung there for two days, bleeding, their shoulders wrenched by their weight. They received no food or water. The IJA medical personnel revived them so they could be beaten again. The guards required any Filipinos using the road near the men to strike them. If a Filipino did not strike the escapees severely, the Japanese struck the Filipinos.

"I had never imagined," Shofner wrote in his diary, "that such punishment could be taken by the human body, nor that man could endure such pain." At the end of the second day, the guards cut them down and compelled them to walk into the brush. One man with a broken leg could not walk, even when stabbed with a bayonet. They dragged him maybe fifty yards, until they reached three shallow graves. Two of them were shot and the third beheaded. All the men in the barracks where the escapees had lived, of which Shifty was a member, were immediately confined to barracks unless they were getting food or relieving themselves. The punishment would last for one month. Shifty wondered if he and his two friends had just missed their chance to get out of Cabanatuan POW Camp Number One.

THE 1/7 MOVED INTO A LINE OF HALF- FINISHED FOXHOLES AND BUNKERS FACING south. The 3/7 held the sector to their right, up on Bloody Ridge. On their left, the line ran into a sector held by the First Marines. Without the benefit of either a commanding height or a river, the 1/7 had a lot of work to do to create a defensible line across this area of flat, somewhat swampy jungle.

The battalion's 37mm cannons and .50-caliber machine guns went to the most vulnerable spot, the left end of the line, where it met the First Marines' sector. A flat plain opened there that stretched southward well into the jungle. From the far end of that plain came a jeep track running due north directly at their line, taking a little jog west as it crossed the 1/7's line, before heading north again to Henderson Field. Any attack would certainly come down that road. At the junction of the road and their lines, the marines built a cheval-de-frise, a three-dimensional oblong of barbed wire. Sturdier than a double apron of barbed wire, the cheval- de-frise could be swung open with difficulty when necessary.

The cheval-de-frise was to Basilone's left. The riflemen from Charlie Company dug foxholes along a line running from it to the ridge on his right. Manila ordered his men to begin digging two machine-gun pits, each large enough for two guns, about forty yards apart. The traverse of each gun would support the riflemen between them as well as a large area to either side. Other men hacked down trees and brush to clear fire lanes or strung barbed wire. The gap between the point of John's machine gun and the wall of jungle on the far side of the barbed wire did not provide the kind of range a machine gunner craved. Behind him, the battalion headquarters dug in and ran telephone wire. After a week they learned Chesty would soon take them back across the Matanikau River and onto the offensive.

The 1/7 woke up to a big breakfast on October 7. At the battalion kitchen, they received meat and potatoes and fruit, beans, and bread in their mess kits, and cups of hot coffee to wash it down.
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For hungry men living in the boonies, the meal went beyond being a healthy start to something more like a reassurance. Everybody knew the IJN had landed a lot of men and equipment on the other side of the Matanikau River. At the prospect of going over there again, one private wounded himself badly enough to be evacuated.
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The new attack included a lot of units, including most of the Seventh Regiment. The attackers would not only have air cover, but the big guns of the division's artillery would be on call as well. Topside, Manila noted, had learned "a costly lesson from our recent failure...."
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For Basilone and his friends, it boiled down to this: the 1/7 and two other battalions would cross the Matanikau well upstream, then sweep northward and hit the enemy troop concentrations from the flank. Unlike the first patrol, this time John's machine-gun section would accompany a rifle platoon of Charlie Company.
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While carting the machine guns through the jungle was tough, the earlier patrols had shown that anything could happen. If they engaged a large enemy force, the riflemen would need the support of Manila's heavy machine guns.

As the 1/7 left the mess, every marine put some C rations in his pocket. The little gold cans contained meat with hash, meat and beans, or some other dreadful combination. The 3/2 led the way, followed by the 2/7, with the 1/7 in the rear. Chesty liked to have Fidel Hernandez, a big marine out of Dog Company, be his point man.
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Chesty called Fidel "Hombre," but John and the others often called him "Chief " because he had some Native American ancestry as well as Spanish. Not far behind Fidel came his platoon leader, his company commander, and the battalion commander himself. Chesty had always been clear about his expectations for his platoon leaders and company commanders: "You lead your men," he insisted, "you do not lag behind."
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Strung out single file, the three battalions made one long column snaking west from the airfield, then south into the island's interior.

In the midafternoon, they came to a stream, one of the tributaries of the Matanikau. A single coconut log crossed it, with a length of communications wire as a handrail.
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Only a few men could cross it at a time, creating a bottleneck that made the 1/7 vulnerable. Lookouts were posted downstream and upstream and the process got under way. Charlie Company crossed, then began the ascent up the other side of the valley. Climbing the steep ridge was a backbreaker. Men slid, dropped equipment, and cursed eloquently. Those few hundred yards took an hour.
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Charlie Company set up their bivouac on top of the ridgeline and posted the guard. Well into the evening, the other companies were still gaining the ridge and joining them.

Even before the men had risen in the morning, the first few drops of a downpour made the prospect of another day of slogging through the jungle less appealing. The rain grew into a torrent and forced a delay. On the morning of the ninth the 1/7 crossed the larger fork of the Matanikau. As it continued pushing west, the two battalions ahead of them had begun turning north. The 1/7 continued west before turning north, in order to guard the marines' left flank.

By the sound of it, the lead battalions had met a large enemy unit. Amid the bombs from U.S. planes and artillery, the sound of return fire could be heard.
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About a thousand yards from the river, 1st Battalion gained a ridge where they could see the surrounding terrain.
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Squad leaders like Basilone were called forward and shown the lay of the land. To the north, they could see the 2/7 firing at the enemy to their left. They could see the ocean another two thousand yards beyond the 2/7. The distances, however, could not be understood in yards. The steep hills and dense jungle imposed limits on every consideration.

Chesty gave Charlie Company a special assignment.
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He ordered them to flank the enemy position that was exchanging fire with the 2/7. Captain Moore led his men down into a ravine, first west, then hooking around to the north. Upon gaining the high ground, they had a beautiful view. Across a narrow valley, they looked into the enemy positions on the barren ridge opposite them. The enemy's attention was focused on the 2/7.

No one fired before Captain Moore gave the order. The marines took their positions and set up their weapons. Basilone's machine guns joined in as Charlie Company began raking the enemy troops at close range. With their targets silhouetted against the sky, some marines thought it was a bit like shooting on a rifle range.
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Over the barrel of his machine gun, Manila watched as the enemy "bodies jerked in a crazy dance."
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The Japanese, of course, wheeled around to face this new threat, but they lacked cover. It also quickly became apparent that the main force of the IJA was congregated in the depression between the two opposing forces.

Charlie Company's 60mm mortars began dropping rounds down there while guys on the ridge fired rifle grenades at likely targets. Then the 81mm mortars, back with the rest of the 1/7 a bit south and east of Charlie, joined in. The enemy found themselves trapped in the ravine. They could not charge Charlie Company's ridge. They could not remain in the ravine. They could not survive on their ridge, much less defend themselves. Several times the enemy tried to set up a machine gun in a large tree on the edge of the ravine. Each time, Charlie Company's machine gunners and mortarmen cut them to pieces.
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For two hours, Charlie Company had them dead to rights. The marines kept most of the enemy soldiers trapped in the lowland. Artillery, fired from within the perimeter, began to explode in the valley.
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The relentless killing finally caused the enemy to break and run for their lives. Hundreds had died and more had been wounded. The carnage made some of John's section puke. Return fire started to come from the position occupied by the 2/7. A few men went down before it ended suddenly.

Before all resistance had been extinguished and before Charlie Company had made sure every figure lying out there was dead, Captain Moore began ordering them to prepare to withdraw. That surely struck some of them as odd. They loaded their dead and wounded onto litters. The way led east, skirting the depression in front of them, of course. A few marines searched the dead--some for intelligence and some for souvenirs--and they found the bodies of large, well- equipped men. This IJA unit obviously had not been on Guadalcanal long. As rear guard for the entire mission, Charlie Company had to watch its back as it marched to the mouth of the river. A few shots rang out, but this harassment tapered off as they got to the beach. The other battalions had crossed. Charlie Company stood watch while the rest of the 1/7 crossed the Matanikau near its mouth.

Trucks began taking the others back to the perimeter along the coast road, so Charlie began to cross. On the other side, the marines deployed along the bank, ready for anything. The trucks drove slowly and the wounded went first, among them Steve Helstowski, one of Manila's gunners and a close friend.
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Full dark found a dozen men still waiting for their ride, including Captain Moore and Colonel Puller.