The Battle of Saipan

It was the end of May, 1944, when we climbed aboard the trucks for the ride to Kahului where ships awaited to take us to the next objective, Saipan, in the Mariana Islands, only 1500 miles from Tokyo. Possession would give us air-strike capability anywhere in the Japanese Home Islands with our new, long-range B-29 bombers. We knew that, and they knew that, so the scene was set for a bitter battle. It was no secret that after World War I, the Japanese had been awarded a League of Nations mandate over the former German Pacific possessions including the Marianas, giving them ample time to fortify the place.

They allegedly had some 22,000 Army troops and about 7,000 “Imperial Marines” stationed there as a defense force promising to make our job a difficult one. The island was 13 miles long by five and a half miles wide with Mount Tapotchau its highest point at 1, 554 feet. The terrain was rugged with ridges and valleys and caves and the Second and Fourth Marine Divisions were going to need all the help they could get. The Army’s Twenty-seventh Division was in reserve and the battleships and carriers of the mighty Fifth Fleet were there to lend a hand.

D-day was June 15, 1944, and H-hour was at 0840. The Navy did its usual job of laying down a blistering cover fire so that troops and tanks could get ashore and establish a beachhead. Once on land, we headed for our initial objective passing through neighborhoods with houses and streets. It was surprising because we had only seen coral islands before, and this was a whole new environment. We even saw little kids running around either scared out of their wits or thinking it was some kind of a big game. I was firing the cannon and one machine gun, seeking targets of opportunity but not seeing any enemy yet. Nearby explosions told us that we were observed and that we’d best make ourselves a moving target. As darkness set in, we secured our tank for the night and were happy to hear that our artillery had gotten set up and was exchanging fire with the enemy.

On June 16, we were given targets to fire on which we did, but we still weren’t seeing the enemy. He was there, firing loads of big stuff at us, but well entrenched or hidden in cave-like locations that we weren’t reaching too readily. The second night was as bad as the first with steady firing from both sides. Particularly satisfying were the big naval shells going over our heads en route to enemy targets.

The next day, June 17, was the one I’ll always remember. We were scheduled to overrun Aslito airfield but the defenders were throwing all kinds of stuff at the front lines holding things up. The lieutenant in charge of our platoon jumped atop our tank, said we had to find out where the trouble was, and off we went through a pass in the hill where we turned and started moving up the reverse slope. We located a dual-purpose gun firing at us and I was able to destroy it. Other guns sighted in on us and we were in a duel, destroying them all except the one that blew off our track and stopped us dead. Another shell penetrated our vehicle and the shrapnel apparently split one of our shells and a fire flared up. We had practiced how to abandon a tank but the thought of a fire sent us out the fastest way possible and we were on the outside trading shots with a few remaining enemy. I had to get one of the guys to cock my pistol for me because somehow in all the confusion, I had broken my right arm and couldn’t work my fingers. We worked our way back to friendly lines and I ended up on a ship equipped to handle casualties. The medics didn’t get around to me for quite a while because they had some badly-wounded guys to take care of, but when they did, they were surprised to find that I was wearing slippers held on with tape. I had “jungle rot” so bad I couldn’t get shoes on, so they took care of that along with a few shrapnel cuts, put a cast on my arm, and sent me on my way. The ship sailed to Eniwetok, in the Marshall Islands, where we stayed a few days before being transferred to a real hospital ship for the ride to Honolulu and the Navy’s Quonset-hut hospital.

Having spent several months on Maui, I had a feel for the Islands but found Oahu much different. Because I was ambulatory, I got to go on hospital-arranged visits to beach-front homes where we were treated to exquisite views, tasty snacks, and charming young ladies with whom to exchange pleasantries. I remember being somewhat disappointed with Waikiki Beach because it wasn’t as sweeping as I had pictured it in my mind, but I was thrilled with our ride over the Pali on our way to Kaneohe. There a group of us spent a week of total rest and relaxation because once we returned to the hospital and were declared fit for duty, it would be back to the old outfit.

My return to Maui was somewhat emotional because I had missed being with these guys and wanted to hear all that had happened on Saipan after I left. I learned that we had done some serious damage to enemy defensive positions on that memorable morning opening the way for a big push, but that it wasn’t until early July that Saipan was totally ours. The cost: 6,000 casualties in our Division alone. After a short break, they captured nearby Tinian Island making our hold of the Marianas complete because the Third Marine Division along with the Army’s Seventy-seventh Division had landed on Guam and had liberated that U.S. Territory. We then had three airfields on Guam, Saipan, and Tinian from which to launch massive attacks against Japan.

For us it was back to work: filling out the ranks; working with new equipment; refining battle tactics; getting ready for the next one; and enjoying all that Maui and our Camp had to offer. Movie screens and stages were built; ball diamonds were laid out; electric lights were installed in all the tents; and public-address systems filled the air with music at appropriate times, especially when we were lined up for chow. The sights on the way to Haleakala Crater were spectacular, and once at the top on a clear day, you could see forever. We were so blessed to have Maui to come back to, and we were so fortunate to have known it in its pristine glory