_Expended shells and open ammunition boxes testify to the heavy
supporting fire this water-cooled, .30-caliber Browning machine gun
poured on the enemy as Marines advanced in the furious and difficult
battle for the heights of Suribachi._]
The next day, D+6, 25 February, provided little relief in terms of
Japanese resistance. Small groups of Marines, accompanied by tanks,
somehow made it across the runway, each man harboring the inescapable
feeling he was alone in the middle of a gigantic bowling alley.
Sometimes holding newly gained positions across the runway proved
more deadly than the process of getting there. Resupply became nearly
impossible. Tanks were invaluable; many were lost.
Schmidt this day managed to get on shore the rest of his corps
artillery, two battalions of 155mm howitzers under Colonel John
S. Letcher. Well-directed fire from these heavier field pieces
eased some of the pressure. So did call fire from the cruisers and
destroyers assigned to each maneuver unit. But the Marines expressed
disappointment in their air support. The 3d Marine Division complained
that the Navy’s assignment of eight fighters and eight bombers on
station was “entirely inadequate.” By noon on this date General Cates
sent a message to Schmidt requesting that “the Strategic Air Force in
the Marianas replace Navy air support immediately.” Colonel Vernon E.
Megee, now ashore as Air Commander Iwo Jima and taking some of the heat
from frustrated division commanders, blamed “those little spit-kit
Navy fighters up there, trying to help, never enough, never where they
should be.”
In fairness, it is doubtful whether any service could have provided
effective air support during the opening days of the drive north. The
Air Liaison Parties with each regiment played hell trying to identify
and mark targets, the Japanese maintained masterful camouflage,
frontline units were often “eyeball-to-eyeball” with the enemy, and
the air support request net was overloaded. The Navy squadrons rising
from the decks of escort carriers improved thereafter, to the extent
that their conflicting missions would permit. Subsequent strikes
featured heavier bombs (up to five hundred pounds) and improved
response time. A week later General Cates rated his air support
“entirely satisfactory.” The battle of Iwo Jima, however, would
continue to frustrate all providers of supporting arms; the Japanese
almost never assembled legitimate targets in the open.
“The Japs weren’t _on_ Iwo Jima,” said Captain Fields of the 26th
Marines, “they were _in_ Iwo Jima.”
Richard Wheeler, who survived service with the 28th Marines and
later wrote two engrossing books about the battle, pointed out this
phenomenon:
This was surely one of the strangest battlefields in history, with
one side fighting wholly above the ground and the other operating
almost wholly within it. Throughout the battle, American aerial
observers marveled at the fact that one side of the field held
thousands of figures, either milling around or in foxholes, while
the other side seemed deserted. The strangest thing of all was that
the two contestants sometimes made troop movements simultaneously
in the same territory, one maneuvering on the surface and the other
using tunnels beneath.
As the Marines struggled to wrest the second airfield from the
Japanese, the commanding terrain features rising to the north caught
their attention. Some would become known by their elevations (although
there were _three_ Hill 362s on the island), but others would take
the personality and nicknames assigned by the attackers. Hence,
the 4th Marine Division would spend itself attacking Hill 382, the
“Amphitheater,” and “Turkey Knob” (the whole bristling complex became
known as “The Meatgrinder”). The 5th Division would earn its spurs and
lose most of its invaluable cadre of veteran leaders attacking Nishi
Ridge and Hills 362-A and 362-B, then end the fighting in “The Gorge.”
The 3d Division would focus first on Hills Peter and 199-Oboe, just
north of the second airfield, then the heavily fortified Hill 362-C
beyond the third airstrip, and finally the moonscape jungle of stone
which would become known as “Cushman’s Pocket.”
Lieutenant Colonel Robert E. Cushman, Jr., a future Commandant,
commanded the 2d Battalion, 9th Marines at Iwo Jima. Cushman and his
men were veterans of heavy fighting in Guam, yet they were appalled
by their first sight of the battlefield. Wrecked and burning Sherman
tanks dotted the airstrips, a stream of casualties flowed to the rear,
“the machine-gun fire was terrific.” Cushman mounted his troops on the
surviving tanks and roared across the field. There they met the same
reverse-slope defenses which had plagued the 21st Marines. Securing
the adjoining two small hills--Peter and 199-Oboe--took the 3d Marine
Division three more days of intensely bitter fighting.
General Schmidt, considering the 3d Division attack in the center
to be his main effort, provided priority fire support from Corps
artillery, and directed the other two divisions to allocate half their
own regimental fire support to the center. None of the commanders was
happy with this. Neither the 4th Division, taking heavy casualties
in The Amphitheater as it approached Hill 382, nor the 5th Division,
struggling to seize Nishi Ridge, wanted to dilute their organic fire
support. Nor was General Erskine pleased with the results. The main
effort, he argued, should clearly receive the main fire. Schmidt never
did solve this problem. His Corps artillery was too light; he needed
twice as many battalions and bigger guns--up to 8-inch howitzers, which
the Marine Corps had not yet fielded. He had plenty of naval gunfire
support available and used it abundantly, but unless the targets lay
in ravines facing to the sea he lost the advantage of direct, observed
fire.
[Illustration: _“The Grenade,” an acrylic painting on canvas by Col
Charles H. Waterhouse._
Marine Corps Combat Art Collection
]
Schmidt’s problems of fire support distribution received some
alleviation on 26 February when two Marine observation planes flew
in from the escort carrier _Wake Island_, the first aircraft to land
on Iwo’s recaptured and still fire-swept main airstrip. These were
Stinson OY single-engine observation planes, nicknamed “Grasshoppers,”
of Lieutenant Tom Rozga’s Marine Observation Squadron (VMO) 4, and
they were followed the next day by similar planes from Lieutenant
Roy G. Miller’s VMO-5. The intrepid pilots of these frail craft had
already had an adventurous time in the waters off Iwo Jima. Several
had been launched precariously from the experimental Brodie catapult
on _LST 776_, “like a peanut from a slingshot.” All 14 of the planes
of these two observation squadrons would receive heavy Japanese fire
in battle, not only while airborne but also while being serviced on
the airstrips as well. Yet these two squadrons (and elements of VMO-1)
would fly nearly 600 missions in support of all three divisions. Few
units contributed so much to the eventual suppression of Kuribayashi’s
deadly artillery fire. In time the mere presence of these small planes
overhead would influence Japanese gunners to cease fire and button
up against the inevitable counterbattery fire to follow. Often the
pilots would undertake pre-dawn or dusk missions simply to extend this
protective “umbrella” over the troops, risky flying given Iwo’s unlit
fields and constant enemy sniping from the adjacent hills.
[Illustration: