5-8 JULY 1944]

There was a different story in the 2d Marine Division zone of action

at the beginning of this period. On 2 July Flametree Hill was seized

and the 2d Marines stormed into Garapan, the second largest city in the

Mariana Islands. What the regiment found was a shambles; the town had

been completely leveled by naval gunfire and Marine artillery.

The official Marine history pictures the scene:

Twisted metal roof tops now littered the area, shielding Japanese

snipers. A number of deftly hidden pillboxes were scattered among

the ruins. Assault engineers, covered by riflemen, slipped behind

such obstacles to set explosives while flamethrowers seared the

front. Assisted by the engineers, and supported by tanks and 75mm

self-propelled guns of the regimental weapons company, the 2d

Marines beat down the scattered resistance before nightfall. On

the beaches, suppressing fire from the LVT(A)s of the 2d Armored

Amphibian Battalion silenced the Japanese weapons located near the

water.

Moving past the town, the 2d Marine Division drove towards Flores

Point, halfway to Tanapag. Along the way, with filthy uniforms,

stiff with sweat and dirt after over two weeks of fierce fighting,

the Marines joyfully dipped their heads and hands into the cool

ocean waters.

With the other two divisions already having veered their attack to the

left and reached the northwest coast, the 2d Marine Division was now

able to go into corps reserve, as planned, on 4 July. (Holland Smith,

seeing the end in sight on Saipan, wanted this division rested for the

forthcoming assault on neighboring Tinian Island.)

The Japanese, meanwhile, were falling back to a final defensive line

north of Garapan. The American attack of the preceding weeks had not

only shattered their manpower, their artillery, and their tanks, but

the enemy also was desperate for food. “Many of them had been so

pressed for provisions that they were eating field grass and tree

bark.”

_D+20-D+23, 5-8 July_

Any Japanese “withdrawal” meant that some of their men were left behind

in caves to fight to the death. This tactic produced again and again

for the American troops the life-threatening question of whether there

were civilians hidden inside who should be saved. There was a typical

grim episode at this time for First Lieutenant Frederic A. Stott, in

the 1st Battalion, 24th Marines:

On this twenty-first day of the battle we trudged along a

circuitous route to relieve the 23d Marines for an attack scheduled

for 1300. A normal artillery preparation preceded it, followed by

the morale-lifting rockets, but neither they nor mortar fire could

eliminate many cave-dwelling Japs. And again the cost was heavy.

Using civilian men, women, and children as decoys, the Jap soldiers

managed to entice a volunteer patrol forward into the open to

collect additional civilian prisoners. A dozen men from A Company

were riddled as the ruse succeeded.

This kind of treacherous action by the Japanese was demonstrated in a

different form on the following day (D+21). Lieutenant Colonel Chambers

described how he dealt summarily with it--and, by contrast how his men

treated genuine civilians who had been hiding:

... a few of the Japs had played possum by smearing blood of other

Japs on themselves and lying still as the Marines came up. However,

within the battalion my instructions were “if it didn’t stink,

stick it.” [My officer] just laughed and said the Marines had

bayoneted all the bodies. You had to do it!

We also picked up several civilian prisoners, including some women

and children. The thing that really got to me was watching these

boys of mine; they’d take all kinds of risks; they’d go into a

cave never knowing whether there would be soldiers in there, to

bring out these civilians. The minute they got them out, they began

to feed them, give them part of their rations, and offer their

cigarettes to the men. It made you feel proud of the boys for doing

this.

[Illustration: _A salvo from the truck-mounted rockets was a welcome

prelude to any Marine attack._

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 88403

]

Once the 2d Marine Division became corps reserve, it was obvious to

General Smith that the time was ripe for a banzai attack. He duly

warned all units to be alert, and paid a personal visit on 6 July to

General Griner, of the 27th Infantry Division, to stress the likelihood

of an attack coming down the coastline on the flat ground of the

Tanapag Plain.

General Saito was now cornered in his sixth (and last) command post,

a miserable cave in Paradise Valley north of Tanapag. The valley was

constantly raked by American artillery and naval gunfire; he had left

only fragmentary remnants of his troops; he was himself sick, hungry,

and wounded. After giving orders for one last fanatical banzai charge,

he decided to commit hara-kiri in his cave. At 10 a.m. on 6 July,

facing east and crying “Tenno Haika! Banzai! [Long live the Emperor!

Ten thousand ages!],” he drew his own blood first with his own sword

and then his adjutant shot him and Admiral Nagumo in the head with

a pistol, but not before he said, “I will meet my staff in Yasakuni

Shrine 3 a.m., 7 July!” This was to be the time ordered for the

commencement of the final attack.

The ultimate outcome was clear to Saito: “Whether we attack, or whether

we stay where we are, there is only death.”

The threat of a mad, all-out enemy charge was nothing new to the troops

on Saipan. A rifleman recounted one such experience:

Whenever we cornered the enemy and there was no way out, we faced

the dreaded banzai attack. The 23d Marines had a few of these

during our Saipan adventure, as did all the other outfits. I

dreaded these attacks and yet welcomed them, which is quite a

paradox. They generated a great deal of fear but, when it was over,

that particular sector was Jap-free.

For hours, we could hear them preparing for their banzai attack, as

it was the end for them and they knew it. Because it was against

their heritage, their training, and their belief, they would not

surrender. All that was left was a final charge, a pouring in of

all their troops in one concentrated place with their pledge to

take as many of us with them as possible.

[Illustration:

Breaching the Marianas: The Battle for Saipan · 第 22 / 27 题