DESTINATION: THE MARSHALLS

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 11, 5 June 1944, Page 20

DESTINATION: THE MARSHALLS

An Eye-witness Account of the Invasion

By Commander Anthony Kimmins, in The Listener, England, February 24, 1944

'VYTTHEN I first discovered that our When I first discovered that our yy destination was to be the Marshalls, I experienced exactly the same thrill as when, last year in the Mediterranean, I had learned that we were off to Pantellaria, and later to Sicily and Salerno. There was the same added zest in the knowledge that we were invading genuine pre-war enemy territory, and I thanked my lucky stars for guiding me in to such historic moments on both, and almost exactly opposite, sides of the world. I had another reason to be grateful also, for I found myself detailed to an amphibious force commanded by Admiral Connolly, whom I had last seen action with during the Salerno landings, where his personality and the determined manner in which he had. handled his landing craft had gained him the respect and admiration of every Britisher out there. “If you really want a seat in the front row,” he said, I’d suggest that you go in the destroyer ‘ Phelps/ as she is doing a special job.” The voyage, week after week of monotonous steaming through the long Pacific swell, was completely uneventful ; and when at last we approached our destination, every ship was in position according to the pre-arranged plan. There had been no loss or damage from enemy action, and very few signs of air reconnaissance. One can only presume that the bold plan of going for the centre and main atoll of the Marshalls had taken the Japs completely by surprise. Our main objectives in the northern attack force were the islands of Roi and Namu ; but, unfortunately, both these islands are on the windward side of the Kwaj alein atoll, where the heavy breakers and reefs make a direct assualt impossible. In other words, we must first capture the islands on the leeward or calmweather side, force an entrance into the lagoon, and then attack our main objectives from inside. As dawn broke on “ D ” day, “ Phelps ”

added to the rest of the task force, was nosing in towards the first objectives. In the darkness we had seen lights burning on Roi and Namu, where the Japs were obviously trying to repair the damage from the previous day’s bombing. Now, as the small, flat islands became visible in the morning light, with their clusters of palms sticking out of the vast expanse of water, they looked rather like the sort of mirage one would expect after a long march across the Sahara. Flying-fish kept skimming out of the water, wondering what all the commotion was about. At exactly the appointed second, the Captain ordered “ Open fire,” and with a blinding flash of her broadside, “ Phelps ” had the honour of starting the bombardment. Almost immediately there were more Hashes from farther out to sea, as the battleships, cruisers, and other destroyers let fly. It was far and away the most staggering bombardment I have ever seen, and I have witnessed a good many in my time. Each ship took on not only her own particular island, but an actual spot on that island. The whole northern tip of the atoll ring was surrounded by ships pounding it from every side, and, if you watched carefully, you could see the bursts relentlessly and systematically creeping across each strip of land covering every possible point where there might be Jap emplacements or defences. And then, as if one master hand was controlling the trigger of every gun, the bombardment ceased, and as the great clouds of yellow cordite smoke drifted away in the breeze, guns’ crews tumbled out of their turrets and enjoyed a quick smoke while empty shell-cases were heaved out of the way, leaving everything clear for the next phase. But that temporary lull in the ships allowed no respite for the defenders of the islands. Even as the smoke and dust from the last shells were subsiding, dive-bombers were roaring in and carrying

on the good work. One after another they came hurtling down, and on the tails of the last dive-bombers came the fighters, tracers from their cannonshells showing up brilliantly in the halflight of early morning and bouncing up, like grotesque illuminated ping-pong balls, as the shells exploded on the ground. As the last aircraft zoomed up into the sky and flew off to its carrier to reload, the warships opened up again. It was a triumph of planning and concentrated action. The “ Phelps,” being the closest inshore, had, in addition to her schedule bombardment programme, the responsibility of dealing with individual targets as and when they presented themselves. Now, as the light improved, emplacements and barges and observation posts became apparent : all of them were systematically blown skyhigh. It was a gun-layer’s paradise, and those gun-layers in the “ Phelps ” certainly knew their job. By now the second phase of the operation was taking shape. While the

preliminary bombardment had been going on, transports and other parent ships had been disgorging their landing craft, and scores of different types of amphibious tanks and assault boats were converging on the “ Phelps,” who had the additional duty of grouping them in their correct ways and then at the right moment launching them for their assault. The wind at this stage was freshening rapidly and had also backed a number of degrees. This meant that the beaches chosen for the first assault would not have as much lee as was originally expected. From where we were it was already plainly obvious that the surf was assuming considerable proportions. As the assault craft approached the nearest beaches it became even more apparent from the way they were being tossed about in the rollers that it would be extremely difficult to force a landing at those points. One or two craft, determined no doubt to live up to the spirit of their Colonel’s final message, “ Good luck to the first marine to land

on Jap soil,” attempted to break through, were swung beam-on and capzised. The remainder, benefiting by their example, then concentrated on those points where there was a better lee, and before long the first marines were safely ashore. Almost immediately there was a rat-tat-tat of small-arms fire ; but soon these became more and more sporadic, until about an hour later they finally died away, and it became obvious that the first objectives were secure in our hands. First to Anchor in a Jap Harbour Meanwhile there had been no let-up from the bombarding ships and aircraft, and the last fighters had strafed the beaches immediately prior to the assault craft touching down on first objectives. So the whole bombardment had lifted and moved to the next island to be taken. Having safely despatched the landing craft to the assault of the first islands the “ Phelps' ” next duty was to force an entrance into the lagoon, and take up a pre-arranged position where the next group of landing craft could rendezvous. As we steamed slowly through, now accompanied by minesweepers, everyone was keeping an almost sharper look-out than ever. This was the point, we decided, where the enemy would have placed every trap in the way of mines and under-water obstructions, to stop us and leave us a fitting target for his shore batteries. But almost before we had had time to realize our good fortune we were safely through the narrow channel and inside the roomy waters of the lagoon itself. From there on it was a comparatively simple task to arrive at the point from which to launch the next attack, and as we were receiving no interference from shore batteries the anchor was let go, the first U.S. ship to anchor in a Jap harbour in this war. It was a strange and unforgettable sight inside that lagoon. There sat the “ Phelps,” rather like a dignified old duck with all her ducklings splashing and scuffling around her. I couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful cartoon Walt Disney would have made of it all. From the entrance we had just come through, more and more ducklings were streaming in towards us, freed at last

from their long captivity in their parent ships. There they came in hundreds splashing along, darting this way and that, and, as you always find in even the best organized circles, the occasional Donald either late or strutting around just avoiding collisions with some one else. On three sides we were surrounded by coral reefs and palm-tree islands. Some of these islands, particularly Roi and Namu, were belching smoke from oil-tanks which had 'been hit. All, with the exception of two we had already captured, were being systematically pounded with shells and bombs. Outside, beyond the atoll ring, we could see transports steaming to and fro from battleships and cruisers. Occasionally they would be hidden by an island and the flash of their guns would give an impression of having been fired from the island itself. Then, a moment later, they would have cleared from behind to be plainly visible among the white breakers and coral reefs, with great flashes and clouds of yellow cordite smoke issuing from their guns. And again, from beyond them, from carriers away on the horizon, dive-bombers and fighters were continually streaming in to drop their loads and return for more. Off to the next Islands Then suddenly a terrific explosion, the loudest I have ever heard in my life, shook and rocked the lagoon, and an enormous volume of white and black smoke shot up as from Namu and belched outwards into a colossal mushroom. Debris and bodies could be seen spinning round like straws in a gale. Obviously a very large ammunition dump had been hit. By now all the landing craft were in position and, at a signal from “ Phelps,” they steamed off in perfect formation towards the next islands to be captured. Just as in the morning attacks, covering fire from larger craft and fighters cleared the way before them, and by dusk all the scheduled objectives were in our hands. And so, as the night closed down, “ Phelps,” a few minesweepers, and some of the largest assault landing craft remained inside the lagoon, while the larger ships watched from outside and the small amphibious assault craft were

high and dry on the beaches of the islands they had captured. As the night wore on there was little sign of enemy movement. Obviously the shells still dropping on the main islands and the tremendous weight of explosives which had been poured on them during the previous days had more than done the trick.

Daylight revealed a grim and murky day with low clouds and rain squalls, and the final bombardment of Roi and Namu started in earnest. I had thought that yesterday’s bombardment and bombing would never be surpassed, but now it was intensified to a pitch that almost took one’s breath away. It was so staggering one just could not take one’s eyes off it, and when eventually I glanced over my shoulder the assault craft which I had last met outside the lagoon had by now effected a complete transformation. The whole northern end of the lagoon seemed to be packed with

ducklings. Yesterday there had been scores of them, now there were literally hundreds and hundreds. Soon they were surrounding us, forming up in their proper lines and waiting impatiently the signal to attack. Many of the marines had their faces blackened, others had favoured a weird khaki background with black streaks. All were gripping their carbines and tommy-guns and obviously itching for action. The Stars and Stripes were proudly flying from the islands already captured. These men were determined that it would soon be flying over Roi and Namu. At first, as the assault craft deployed and crushed down on the beaches, they met with little resistance, but as they moved inland across the islands there were still a number of stubborn Japs offering' a last desperate resistance. The scene ashore was an indescribable shambles. Dead fish of all colours and sizes had been hurled on to the beaches by nearby explosions. Nearly every palm-tree had had its top blown off.

There was hardly a square foot of ground which had not either been hit or covered with debris. Dead and mutilated Japs lay about in grotesque attitudes. Pillboxes and air-raid shelters which had received direct hits revealed an awful scene of carnage ; the stench was foul, and flies, a few lizards, some birds, a chicken, a pig, and a dog, and a few prisoners seemed to be the only living creatures who had survived the hell of the last few days. And so, through all that day and that night and the following day and night, the grim business went on of exterminating Japs wherever they might be hiding, in drains, foxholes, or whatever cover was left, until the last one had been dealt with. The whole operation had cost us amazingly few lives, thanks to perfect organization, a bold stroke of planning and brilliant execution. I shall never forget my trip in the U.S.S. “ Phelps.” It is a privilege which I shall always treasure as one of my very proudest memories.