_This desperate scene hardly needs a caption. The Marine is badly hurt,
but he’s in good hands as his buddies lead him to safety and shelter
just ahead for treatment._]
Casualty handling was the most pressing logistic problem on D+1. The
2d Marine Division was heroically served at Tarawa by its organic Navy
doctors and hospital corpsmen. Nearly 90 of these medical specialists
were themselves casualties in the fighting ashore. Lieutenant Herman
R. Brukhardt, Medical Corps, USN, established an emergency room in a
freshly captured Japanese bunker (some of whose former occupants “came
to life” with blazing rifles more than once). In 36 hours, under brutal
conditions, Brukhardt treated 126 casualties; only four died.
At first, casualties were evacuated to troopships far out in the
transport area. The long journey was dangerous to the wounded troops
and wasteful of the few available LVTs or LCVPs. The Marines then
began delivering casualties to the destroyer _Ringgold_ in the lagoon,
even though her sickbay had been wrecked by a Japanese five-inch shell
on D-Day. The ship, still actively firing support missions, accepted
dozens of casualties and did her best. Admiral Hill then took the
risk of dispatching the troopship _Doyen_ (APA 1) into the lagoon
early on D+1 for service as primary receiving ship for critical cases.
Lieutenant Commander James Oliver, MC, USN, led a five-man surgical
team with recent combat experience in the Aleutians. In the next three
days Oliver’s team treated more than 550 severely wounded Marines.
“We ran out of sodium pentathol and had to use ether,” said Oliver,
“although a bomb hit would have blown _Doyen_ off the face of the
planet.”
Navy chaplains were also hard at work wherever Marines were fighting
ashore. Theirs was particularly heartbreaking work, consoling the
wounded, administering last rites to the dying, praying for the souls
of the dead before the bulldozer came to cover the bodies from the
unforgiving tropical sun.
[Illustration: _Some seriously wounded Marines were evacuated from the
beachhead by raft._
Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 63926
]
The tide of battle began to shift perceptibly towards the Americans
by mid-afternoon on D+1. The fighting was still intense, the Japanese
fire still murderous, but the surviving Marines were on the move, no
longer gridlocked in precarious toeholds on the beach. Rixey’s pack
howitzers were adding a new definition for close fire support. The
supply of ammunition and fresh water was greatly improved. Morale was
up, too. The troops knew the 6th Marines was coming in soon. “I thought
up until 1300 today it was touch and go,” said Rixey, “then I knew we
would win.”
By contrast, a sense of despair seemed to spread among the defenders.
They had shot down the Marines at every turn, but with every fallen
Marine, another would appear, rifle blazing, well supported by
artillery and naval guns. The great _Yogaki_ plan seemed a bust. Only
a few aircraft attacked the island each night; the transports were
never seriously threatened. The Japanese fleet never materialized.
Increasingly, Japanese troops began committing suicide rather than risk
capture.
Shoup sensed this shift in momentum. Despite his frustration over the
day’s delays and miscommunications, he was buoyed enough to send a 1600
situation report to Julian Smith, which closed with these terse words
that became a classic: “Casualties: many. Percentage dead: unknown.
Combat efficiency: _We are winning_.”
At 1655, Murray’s 2/6 landed against light opposition on Bairiki.
During the night and early morning hours, Lieutenant Colonel George
Shell’s 2d Battalion, 10th Marines, landed on the same island and began
registering its howitzers. Rixey’s fire direction center on Betio
helped this process, while the artillery forward observer attached to
Crowe’s LT 2/8 on Red Beach One had the unusual experience of adjusting
the fire of the Bairiki guns “while looking into their muzzles.” The
Marines had practiced this earlier on New Zealand. Smith finally had
artillery in place on Bairiki.
Meanwhile, Major Jones and LT 1/6 were finally on the move. It had
been a day of many false starts. At one point, Jones and his men had
been debarking over the sides in preparation for an assault on the
eastern end of the Betio when “The Word” changed their mission to Green
Beach. When _Feland_ finally returned to within reasonable range from
the island, the Marines of LT 1/6 disembarked for real. Using tactics
developed with the Navy during the Efate rehearsal, the Marines loaded
on board LCVPs which towed their rubber rafts to the reef. There the
Marines embarked on board their rafts, six to 10 troops per craft, and
began the 1,000-yard paddle towards Green Beach.
[Illustration: