Remembering Okinawa

Marines from the 1st Marine Regiment on Wana Ridge, Okinawa.

Each year in June, we remember the brave troops who first directly challenged the Nazi juggernaut on continental Europe. Operation Overlord, the assault on Nazi-occupied western Europe, began with the D-Day landings in Normandy on June 6, 1944.  The veterans of that action, if still alive, are 86 years or older.  This action, which over 60 days claimed the lives of over 20,000 American troops (and an additional 16,000 allied troops) has been memorialized by no less than John Wayne in “The Longest Day”, 1962, and Tom Hanks in “Saving Private Ryan”, 1998.  The enormous courage of these brave men broke the back of the Nazi war machine and directly led to victory in Europe in May of 1945.

While we should not, we must not, fail to recognize this enormous sacrifice, the month of June is somewhat unjustly overshadowed by D-Day.  Not as well known, one year later, on June 21, 1945, the Battle of Okinawa ended.

The war in the Pacific was viewed at the time as secondary to the war in Europe.  But the Japanese were fierce adversaries and had proven their battle mettle at Pearl Harbor, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, and China.  The threat of Japanese hegemony in the Pacific basin was very real. They were aggressively securing oil and mineral resources to fuel their formidable war machine. Not wishing to cede California, Oregon, Washington, Alaska (and Canada, Australia, and New Zealand) to Emperor Hirohito, we fought back. Hard.

There followed a series of swirling naval battles, such as the Battle of the Coral Sea and the Battle of Midway, intermixed with grueling island campaigns like the battles for Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima.  The Marine Corps, in particular, was the sharp end of the spear and suffered grievous losses.  But slowly the inexorable march to the Japanese homeland continued.

In April of 1945, Operation Iceberg was mounted. Okinawa, 340 miles from mainland Japan, was considered home Japanese territory.  This was the first Allied assault directly on Japanese native soil.  It was fiercely resisted.

Over 1,300 Navy ships and 183,000 troops (five Army and three Marine Corps divisions) were committed to Okinawa. Unlike the beaches of Normandy, the supply lines to Okinawa stretched across the Pacific, delivering over 750,000 tons of materiel.  The casualties were enormous: 72,000 Americans wounded, 12,500 dead, and 107,000 Japanese troops and over 100,000 civilians killed, more than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined (estimated at over 150,000 killed).

As horrible as the atomic toll was, it paled in comparison to the projected loss of life if Operation Downfall, the invasion of mainland Japan, were undertaken.  Various estimates centered around a half million Americans killed and perhaps several million Japanese military and civilians. These estimates were largely based on the desperate battle for Okinawa, and informed President Harry Truman’s decision to use atomic weapons in a bid to cut short the war.

In the end, terrible as was the carnage at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it is clear that many Japanese and American lives were saved by avoiding the ultimate land battle for Japan.  Okinawa, a key factor in this calculus, deserves to be remembered. The ghosts of our troops, our fathers and grandfathers’ brothers, demand it.

The little known battle of Wake Island

Wake Island - destroyed Marine F4F Wildcats, VMF211.  National Archives Photo 80-G-179006

Today we really love our Toyotas and Hondas.  Japan is a close friend and ally of the United states and a major trading partner. But seventy years ago, Emperor Hirohito’s forces attacked the United States at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and at tiny Wake Island on December 8^th.  (These attacks were nearly simultaneous, as Wake Island lies across the International Dateline some 2,000 miles to the west.)  It is difficult to appreciate the bleakness of those times, with war seeming a poor reward for a decade of economic depression.

The story of Pearl Harbor is well known; Wake Island, less so.  Annexed by the United States in 1899, Wake remained desolate for many years.  Pan American Airlines built a facility there in 1935 to accommodate their flying boats, the famous Clippers which plied the Pacific in the pre-war years.  As tensions with Japan mounted, the Navy established a garrison in 1941 and by December had staffed it with 449 United States Marines, twelve Grumman F4F-3 Wildcats, 68 Navy personnel, and a contingent of over 1,200 civilian construction workers. 

The garrison was incomplete, lacking revetments to protect parked aircraft from shells or bombs, and no radar was yet installed.  On the morning of December 8^th (the 7^th in Hawaii), the garrison received a radio warning from Pearl.  Navy Commander W.S. Cunningham ordered four of his Marine pilots to take to the air to establish an air screen, thereby saving them from destruction.  At noon, a large force of Japanese Mitsubishi bombers from the Marshal Islands attacked and decimated seven of the eight F4F Wildcats remaining on the ground.  The eighth was later disabled in a taxiing accident.

Pan American’s facilities, including a hotel, warehouse, and fuel tanks, were destroyed by the raid. A moored Pan American airship, the Philippine Clipper, was riddled with shot and shrapnel but remained airworthy.  Her civilian crew, passengers, and ground employees were able to jettison unnecessary baggage and equipment and escape to Midway Island in a fortunate side note to this grim battle.

In spite of daily air attacks, the Marines were able to keep their small fleet of four remaining Wildcats serviceable, and their intrepid pilots served both as early warning for incoming air raids and to claim their share of downed enemy bombers. 

On December 11^th, the Japanese attempted an assault from the sea.   A seaborne force consisting of three light cruisers, six destroyers, and two armed merchantmen approached during the night with the intent of landing 450 troops.  But the defenders were able to sting heavily with coastal artillery and their few remaining aircraft.  Four Japanese ships were destroyed and several more damaged, and they were forced to withdraw.  This was the first defeat for the Japanese, who had till now seemed invincible at Pearl, Guam, Singapore, Hong Kong, and the Philippines.  The home front rejoiced at the news. But there was great cost to the Marines; two of the surviving F4Fs were destroyed leaving only two of the original twelve operational. 

Knowing the fate of the Marines, sailors, and civilians on Wake was precarious, the Navy mounted a relief force from Hawaii led by the carrier USS Saratoga and three heavy cruisers, ten destroyers, and a number of support ships.   But the Japanese were approaching Wake with a large task force consisting of two fleet carriers, many attendant cruisers and destroyers,  and a landing party of 1,500 men.   On December 22, the last two Wildcats were lost to carrier-based Japanese Zeros, and on the 23^rd the invasion was in full swing.  Realizing the strength of the Japanese armada, Pearl ordered the American relief force to turn back as it was deemed essential to insure the defense of Hawaii. Thus was sealed the fate of Wake’s defenders. 

The Marines fought defiantly, valiantly, and courageously, but were overwhelmed.  (Marine Captain Henry T. Elrod was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for bravely piloting his F4F Wildcat to down two Zeros and sink a destroyer.  He was later killed protecting his men as they carried ammunition to a gun emplacement).  The Japanese bombarded for hours and then landed over 1,000 men, overpowering the island’s defenses.  By afternoon, Commander Cunningham was forced to surrender the garrison.  There followed a dark time of incarceration, hard labor in POW camps, and atrocities better forgiven than avenged.

Dark times, indeed, but those on the home front rose to the challenge, not only in the Pacific but also in Europe and around the world where Allied forces were amassing.  Our spirit, spunk, and perseverance led the Allies to the post-war world we have all enjoyed for over six decades. (Even Japan and Germany, the world’s 3^rd and 4^th largest economies.  Oh, to be defeated by those steely but benevolent Americans).

The veterans who formed the sharp tip of our spear in those years are quickly disappearing.  They who served in the early war years are approaching 90 years and beyond.  The incidence of veteran obituaries from that era has long since peaked and dwindled – few of them remain.  If you are fortunate enough to know a World War II vet, or are kind enough to visit a veteran facility, take a moment to listen to their stories and give them great thanks.