Edson and Thomas did the best they could with the resources available.
Red Mike used the spine of the ridge as the dividing point between his
two rump battalions. One company of parachutists held the left of his
line, with the rest of their comrades echeloned to the rear to protect
that flank. Two companies of raiders occupied the right, with that
flank anchored on the Lunga River. A lagoon separated the two raider
units. Edson attached the machine guns to the forward companies and
kept the remaining raiders in reserve. (Company D was no larger than a
platoon now, since Red Mike had used much of its manpower to fill holes
in the other three rifle companies.) He set up his forward command post
on Hill 120, just a few hundred yards behind the front lines.
Thomas placed the 2d Battalion, 5th Marines, in reserve between the
ridge and the airfield. Artillery forward observers joined Edson and
registered the howitzers. The Marines were as ready as they could
be, but the selection of the ridge as the heart of the defense was a
gamble. To the west of the Lunga there were only a few strongpoints
occupied by the men from the pioneer and amphibious tractor battalions.
To the east of Red Mike’s line there was nothing but a mile of empty
jungle.
Kawaguchi was having his own problems. In addition to the setback
at Tasimboko, his troops were having a tough time cutting their way
through the heavy jungle and toiling over the many ridges in their
path. Some of his difficulties were self-inflicted. His decision to
attack from the south had required him to leave his artillery and most
of his supplies behind, since they could not be hauled over the rough
jungle trail. Thus he would go into battle with little fire support and
poor logistics. He then detailed one of his four battalions to make a
diversionary attack along the Tenaru. This left him with just 2,500 men
for the main assault. Finally, he had underestimated the time needed to
reach his objective.
On the evening of 12 September, as the appointed hour for the attack
approached, Kawaguchi realized that only one battalion had reached its
assigned jumpoff point, and no units had been able to reconnoiter the
area of the ridge. He wanted to delay the attack, but communications
failed and he could not pass the order. Behind schedule and without
guides, the battalions hastily blundered forward, only to break up into
small groups as the men fought their way through the tangled growth
in total darkness. At 2200 a Japanese plane dropped a series of green
flares over the Marine perimeter. Then a cruiser and three destroyers
opened up on the ridge. For the next 20 minutes they poured shells in
that direction, though most rounds sailed over the high ground to land
in the jungle beyond, some to explode among the Japanese infantry.
[Illustration: Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 310563
_Maj Kenneth D. Bailey was awarded the Medal of Honor for his part in
the battle of Edson’s Ridge, which saved Henderson Field and the entire
Marine perimeter. Although he survived that intense fight, he died just
two weeks later leading his men against a Japanese position along the
Matanikau River._]
When the bombardment ceased, Kawaguchi’s units launched their own
flares and the first piecemeal attacks began. The initial assault
concentrated in the low ground around the lagoon. This may have been
an attempt to find the American flank, or the result of lack of
familiarity with the terrain. In any case, the thick jungle offset the
Marine advantage in firepower, and the Japanese found plenty of room to
infiltrate between platoon strongpoints. They soon isolated the three
platoons of Company C, each of which subsequently made its way to the
rear. The Marines on the ridge remained comparatively untouched. As
daylight approached the Japanese broke off the action, but retained
possession of Company C’s former positions. Kawaguchi’s officers began
the slow process of regrouping their units, now scattered over the
jungle and totally disoriented.
In the morning Edson ordered a counterattack by his reserve companies.
They made little headway against the more-numerous Japanese, and Red
Mike recalled them. Since he could not restore an unbroken front, he
decided to withdraw the entire line to the reserve position. This had
the added benefit of forcing the enemy to cross more open ground on the
ridge before reaching Marine fighting holes. In the late afternoon the
B Companies of both raiders and parachutists pulled back and anchored
themselves on the ridge midway between Hills 80 and 120. Thomas
provided an engineer company, which Edson inserted on the right of the
ridge. Company A of the raiders covered the remaining distance between
the engineers and the Lunga. The other two parachute companies withdrew
slightly and bulked up the shoulder of the left flank. The remains of
Companies C and D assumed a new reserve position on the west slope of
the ridge, just behind Hill 120. Red Mike’s command post stayed in its
previous location.
The Japanese made good use of the daylight hours and prepared for
a fresh effort. This time Kawaguchi would not make the mistake of
getting bogged down in the jungle; he would follow the tactics Edson
had originally expected and concentrate his attack on the open ground
of the ridge. The new assault kicked off just after darkness fell. The
initial blow struck Company B’s right flank near the lagoon. A mad rush
of screaming soldiers drove the right half of the raider company out
of position and those men fell back to link up with Company C on the
ridge. Inexplicably, Kawaguchi did not exploit the gap he had created.
Possibly the maneuver had been a diversion to draw Marine reserves off
the ridge and out of the way of the main effort.
Edson had to decide quickly whether to plug the hole with his dwindling
reserve or risk having the center of his line encircled by the next
assault. The enemy soon provided the answer. By 2100 Japanese soldiers
were massing around the southern nose of the ridge, making their
presence known with the usual barrage of noisy chants. They presumably
were going to launch a frontal assault on the center of the Marine
line. Red Mike ordered Company C of the raiders and Company A of the
parachutists to form a reserve line around the front and sides of Hill
120. Japanese mortar and machine-gun fire swept the ridge; the Marines
responded with artillery fire on suspected assembly areas.
The assault waves finally surged forward at 2200. The attack, on a
front all across the ridge, immediately unhinged the Marine center. As
Japanese swarmed toward the left flank of his Company B, Captain Harry
L. Torgerson, the parachute battalion executive officer, ordered it to
withdraw. The parachutists in Company C soon followed suit. Torgerson
gathered these two units in the rear of Company A’s position on Hill
120, where he attempted to reorganize them. The remaining Company B
raiders were now isolated in the center. The situation looked desperate.
At this point, the Japanese seemed to take a breather. Heavy fire raked
the ridge, but the enemy made no fresh assaults. Edson arranged for
more artillery support, and got his own force to provide covering fire
for the withdrawal of the exposed raiders of Company B. For a time it
looked like the series of rearward movements would degenerate into a
rout. As a few men around Hill 120 began to filter to the rear, Red
Mike took immediate steps to avert disaster. From his CP, now just a
dozen yards behind the front, he made it known that this was to be
the final stand. The word went round: “Nobody moves, just die in your
holes.” Major Bailey ranged up and down the line raising his voice
above the din and breathing fresh nerve into those on the verge of
giving up. The commander of the Parachute Battalion broke down; Edson
relieved him on the spot and placed Torgerson in charge.
The new position was not very strong, just a small horseshoe bent
around the hill, with men from several units intermingled on the bare
slopes. Red Mike directed the artillery to maintain a continuous
barrage close along his front. When the Japanese renewed their attack,
each fresh wave of Imperial soldiers boiled out of the jungle into a
torrent of steel and lead. In addition to the firepower of artillery
and automatic weapons, men on the lines tossed grenade after grenade at
whatever shapes or sounds they could discern. Supplies of ammunition
dwindled rapidly, and division headquarters pushed forward cases of
belted machine gun ammunition and grenades.
[Illustration: THE RIDGE