_1stLt Alexander Bonnyman, Jr., USMC, was awarded the Medal of Honor
posthumously for extreme bravery during the assault on the Japanese
bombproof shelter on D+2. Two of the four Marines awarded the Medal of
Honor for Tarawa were combat engineers: Lt Bonnyman and SSgt Bordelon._]
Admiral Shibasaki’s counterpart, General Julian Smith, landed on Green
Beach shortly before noon. Smith observed the deployment of McLeod’s LT
3/6 inland and conferred with Major Ryan. But Smith soon realized he
was far removed from the main action towards the center of the island.
He led his group back across the reef to its landing craft and ordered
the coxswain to make for the pier. At this point the commanding general
received a rude introduction to the facts of life on Betio. Although
the Japanese strongpoints at the re-entrant were being hotly besieged
by Hays’ 1/8, the defenders still held mastery over the approaches to
Red Beaches One and Two. Well-aimed machine gun fire disabled the boat
and killed the coxswain; the other occupants had to leap over the far
gunwale into the water. Major Tompkins, ever the right man in the right
place, then waded through intermittent fire for half a mile to find an
LVT for the general. Even this was not an altogether safe exchange. The
LVT drew further fire, which wounded the driver and further alarmed the
occupants. General Smith did not reach Edson and Shoup’s combined CP
until nearly 1400.
“Red Mike” Edson in the meantime had assembled his major subordinate
commanders and issued orders for continuing the attack to the east that
afternoon. Major Jones’ 1/6 would continue along the narrowing south
coast, supported by the pack howitzers of 1/10 and all available tanks.
Colonel Hall’s two battalions of the 8th Marines would continue their
advance along the north coast. Jump-off time was 1330. Naval gunfire
and air support would blast the areas for an hour in advance.
Colonel Hall spoke up on behalf of his exhausted, decimated landing
teams, ashore and in direct contact since D-Day morning. The two
landing teams had enough strength for one more assault, he told
Edson, but then they must get relief. Edson promised to exchange the
remnants of 2/8 and 3/8 with Murray’s fresh 2/6 on Bairiki at the first
opportunity after the assault.
Jones returned to his troops in his borrowed tank and issued the
necessary orders. Landing Team 1/6 continued the attack at 1330,
passing through Kyle’s lines in the process. Immediately it ran into
heavy opposition. The deadliest fire came from heavy weapons mounted in
a turret-type emplacement near the south beach. This took 90 minutes to
overcome. The light tanks were brave but ineffective. Neutralization
took sustained 75mm fire from one of the Sherman medium tanks.
Resistance was fierce throughout Jones’ zone, and his casualties began
to mount. The team had conquered 800 yards of enemy territory fairly
easily in the morning, but could attain barely half that distance in
the long afternoon.
The 8th Marines, having finally destroyed the three-bunker nemesis,
made good progress at first, but then ran out of steam past the
eastern end of the airfield. Shoup had been right the night before.
The Japanese defenders may have been leaderless, but they still had an
abundance of bullets and esprit left. Major Crowe pulled his leading
elements back into defensive positions for the night. Jones halted,
too, and placed one company north of the airfield for a direct link
with Crowe. The end of the airstrip was unmanned but covered by fire.
On nearby Bairiki, all of 2/10 was now in position and firing artillery
missions in support of Crowe and Jones. Company B of the 2d Medical
Battalion established a field hospital to handle the overflow of
casualties from _Doyen_. Murray’s 2/6, eager to enter the fray, waited
in vain for boats to arrive to move them to Green Beach. Very few
landing craft were available; many were crammed with miscellaneous
supplies as the transports and cargo ships continued general unloading,
regardless of the needs of the troops ashore. On Betio, Navy Seabees
were already at work repairing the airstrip with bulldozers and graders
despite enemy fire. From time to time, the Marines would call for help
in sealing a bothersome bunker, and a bulldozer would arrive to do
the job nicely. Navy beachmasters and shore party Marines on the pier
continued to keep the supplies coming in, the wounded going out. At
1550, Edson requested a working party “to clear bodies around pier ...
hindering shore party operations.” Late in the day the first jeep got
ashore, a wild ride along the pier with every remaining Japanese sniper
trying to take out the driver. Sherrod commented, “If a sign of certain
victory were needed, this is it. The jeeps have arrived.”
The strain of the prolonged battle began to take effect. Colonel Hall
reported that one of his Navajo Indian code-talkers had been mistaken
for a Japanese and shot. A derelict, blackened LVT drifted ashore,
filled with dead Marines. At the bottom of the pile was one who was
still breathing, somehow, after two and a half days of unrelenting
hell. “Water,” he gasped, “Pour some water on my face, will you?”
[Illustration: