_Troops of the 2d Battalion, 2d Marines, 2d Marine Division, load
magazines and clean their weapons enroute to Betio on board the attack
transport_ Zeilin _(APA 3)._]
Shortly before 0800, Colonel Shoup and elements of his tactical command
post debarked into LCVPs from _Biddle_ (APA 8) and headed for the
line of departure. Close by Shoup stood an enterprising sergeant,
energetically shielding his bulky radio from the salt spray. Of the
myriad of communications blackouts and failures on D-Day, Shoup’s radio
would remain functional longer and serve him better than the radios of
any other commander, American or Japanese, on the island.
Admiral Hill ordered a ceasefire at 0854, even though the waves were
still 4,000 yards off shore. General Smith and “Red Mike” Edson
objected strenuously, but Hill considered the huge pillars of smoke
unsafe for overhead fire support of the assault waves. The great noise
abruptly ceased. The LVTs making their final approach soon began to
receive long-range machine gun fire and artillery air-bursts. The
latter could have been fatal to the troops crowded into open-topped
LVTs, but the Japanese had overloaded the projectiles with high
explosives. Instead of steel shell fragments, the Marines were “doused
with hot sand.” It was the last tactical mistake the Japanese would
make that day.
The previously aborted air strike returned at 0855 for five minutes
of noisy but ineffective strafing along the beaches, the pilots again
heeding their wristwatches instead of the progress of the lead LVTs.
Two other events occurred at this time. A pair of naval landing boats
darted towards the end of the long pier at the reef’s edge. Out charged
First Lieutenant Hawkins with his scout-sniper platoon and a squad
of combat engineers. These shock troops made quick work of Japanese
machine gun emplacements along the pier with explosives and flame
throwers. Meanwhile, the LVTs of Wave One struck the reef and crawled
effortlessly over it, commencing their final run to the beach. These
parts of Shoup’s landing plan worked to perfection.
But the preliminary bombardment, as awesome and unprecedented as it
had been, had failed significantly to soften the defenses. Very little
ships’ fire had been directed against the landing beaches themselves,
where Admiral Shibasaki vowed to defeat the assault units at the
water’s edge. The well-protected defenders simply shook off the sand
and manned their guns. Worse, the near-total curtailment of naval
gunfire for the final 25 minutes of the assault run was a fateful
lapse. In effect, the Americans gave their opponents time to shift
forces from the southern and western beaches to reinforce northern
positions. The defenders were groggy from the pounding and stunned at
the sight of LVTs crossing the barrier reef, but Shibasaki’s killing
zone was still largely intact. The assault waves were greeted by a
steadily increasing volume of combined arms fire.
For Wave One, the final 200 yards to the beach were the roughest,
especially for those LVTs approaching Red Beaches One and Two. The
vehicles were hammered by well-aimed fire from heavy and light machine
guns and 40mm antiboat guns. The Marines fired back, expending 10,000
rounds from the .50-caliber machine guns mounted forward on each LVT-1.
But the exposed gunners were easy targets, and dozens were cut down.
Major Drewes, the LVT battalion commander who had worked so hard with
Shoup to make this assault possible, took over one machine gun from
a fallen crewman and was immediately killed by a bullet through the
brain. Captain Fenlon A. Durand, one of Drewes’ company commanders, saw
a Japanese officer standing defiantly on the seawall waving a pistol,
“just daring us to come ashore.”
On they came. Initial touchdown times were staggered: 0910 on Red
Beach One; 0917 on Red Beach Three; 0922 on Red Beach Two. The first
LVT ashore was vehicle number 4-9, nicknamed “My Deloris,” driven by
PFC Edward J. Moore. “My Deloris” was the right guide vehicle in Wave
One on Red Beach One, hitting the beach squarely on “the bird’s beak.”
Moore tried his best to drive his LVT over the five-foot seawall, but
the vehicle stalled in a near-vertical position while nearby machine
guns riddled the cab. Moore reached for his rifle only to find it shot
in half. One of the embarked troops was 19-year-old Private First
Class Gilbert Ferguson, who recalled what happened next on board
the LVT: “The sergeant stood up and yelled ‘everybody out.’ At that
very instant, machine gun bullets appeared to rip his head off....”
Ferguson, Moore, and others escaped from the vehicle and dispatched two
machine gun positions only yards away. All became casualties in short
order.
Very few of the LVTs could negotiate the seawall. Stalled on the beach,
the vehicles were vulnerable to preregistered mortar and howitzer fire,
as well as hand grenades tossed into the open troop compartments by
Japanese troops on the other side of the barrier. The crew chief of one
vehicle, Corporal John Spillane, had been a baseball prospect with the
St. Louis Cardinals organization before the war. Spillane caught two
Japanese grenades barehanded in mid-air, tossing them back over the
wall. A third grenade exploded in his hand, grievously wounding him.
[Illustration: _Marines and sailors traveling on board a troop
transport receive their initial briefing on the landing plan for Betio._
Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 101807
]
The second and third waves of LVT-2s, protected only by 3/8-inch
boiler plate hurriedly installed in Samoa, suffered even more intense
fire. Several were destroyed spectacularly by large-caliber antiboat
guns. Private First Class Newman M. Baird, a machine gunner aboard
one embattled vehicle, recounted his ordeal: “We were 100 yards in
now and the enemy fire was awful damn intense and getting worse. They
were knocking [LVTs] out left and right. A tractor’d get hit, stop,
and burst into flames, with men jumping out like torches.” Baird’s
own vehicle was then hit by a shell, killing the crew and many of the
troops. “I grabbed my carbine and an ammunition box and stepped over a
couple of fellas lying there and put my hand on the side so’s to roll
over into the water. I didn’t want to put my head up. The bullets were
pouring at us like a sheet of rain.”
[Illustration: