Finally, at 1930, Colonel Franklin A. Hart, commander of the 24th
Marines ordered his men to dig in for the night. The troops had come
across a good portion of the island. Now they would hold the ground
gained and get ready for the morrow. One rifleman, Robert F. Graf,
later wrote about that time:
Throughout the night the fleet sent flares skyward, lighting the
islands as the flares drifted with the prevailing wind. Ghostly
flickering light was cast from the flares as they drifted along
on their parachutes. Laying in our foxhole, my buddy and I were
watching, waiting, and straining our ears trying to filter out the
known sounds.
Our foxhole in that sand was about six feet long by two feet in
depth and just about wide enough to hold the two of us. Since I
had eaten only my “D” ration since leaving the ship, I was hungry.
“D” rations were bitter-sweet chocolate bars about an inch and a
half square and were supposed to be full of energy. I removed a “K”
ration from my pack and opened it. “K” rations came in a box about
the size of a Cracker Jack box and had a waterproof coating. These
rations contained a small tin of powdered coffee or lemonade, some
round hard candies, a package of three cigarettes, and a tin about
the size of a tuna-fish can containing either cheese, hash, or eggs
with a little bacon. We dined on our rations, drank water from our
canteens, and prepared to settle in for the night....
After finishing chow we elected to take two-hour watches, one on
guard while the other slept. Also we made sure we knew where our
buddies’ foxholes were, both on the left and right of us. Thus we
were set up so that anyone to our front would be an enemy. Our
first night in combat had started.
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