CHAPTER FOUR
Getting Acquainted
JM: 7/5/96
" Hi Kent
"Like so many other things, I always have good intentions
of doing, it's just that there always seems to be others that
need quicker attention. But as Ralph Kramden in "The Honeymooners"
used to say to Alice: "One of these days ..." Just your
saying what you did above has made me think that perhaps I should
preserve my recollections, as you put it. As the years pile on
the memories get dimmer.
"My wife and I never had any children, but we do have several
nieces and nephews who someday might be interested in reading
about the experience. And a compilation of these letters we are
in the process of exchanging, might be just the way to do it."
KC: "In an earlier message you mentioned Mt. Austen. My wife
and I are intimately acquainted with Mt. Austen. One night we
went out to dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Honiara with our
best friend, Basil (an Aussie, my roommate and scuba diving instructor)
and his date, a Japanese relief worker.
"The dinner was great and we decided to go to the top of
Mt. Austen afterwards to get a good view of the Southern Cross.
As I'm sure you can remember, the night skies in the Solomons
are something to behold.
"Trine and I were following Basil and Yuko up the mountain
in my old, beat-up Suzuki 2-stroke, which I bought for $500. It
almost didn't make it up the mountain; the road had several steep
grades, with potholes the size of bathtubs. It was slow going
up to the top. But we finally made it.
"In the space of about 45 minutes, we saw five shooting stars.
Absolutely beautiful sky. It began to get late, so we decided
to head back down. I would lead so Basil would be behind me in
case our car died. At one critical point in our descent, I had
to get a head of steam up in order to make it to the top of another
hill. We got going too fast and hit one of those craters. We went
left into a ditch, I struggled to correct and get us back on the
road. We did but went straight across into an embankment. The
car rolled over at least once. Thank the good Lord we both were
alright. We blamed the ghost of Pistol Pete.
"So we have a special connection to Mt. Austen. (By the way,
the Matanikau Falls are even better than Tenaru Falls.)"
JM: "That should always be a strong remembrance of your early
days together. Thankfully you are able to remember them from here
on earth. I was never aware of either the Matanikau Falls or the
Tenaru Falls. We never ventured that far up into the mountain.
I do remember at one point we went well up the Matanikau to a
point where the water was deeper and rushing faster. It was much
harder crossing up there because the rapid water seemed to pull
and undermine our boots making walking more difficult. Several
of our guys lost their footing and really struggled to get back
up.
"One guy nearly got washed away from us, but fortunately
he managed to grab on to a downed tree limb and hang on until
some of us went over and pulled him back with us. I never gave
it a thought that there might be a falls farther up."
KC: "Remember the fighter airstrip west of Henderson, across
the Lunga River? (I used to wash my car in the Lunga.) Well, "Fighter
Two," it was called, is now a golf course! Like playing on
concrete.
"I did some bush walking back behind Henderson, just west
of Bloody Ridge. I tried to emulate K/3/5's movements, as they
were advancing west towards the Lunga and the Matanikau. I have
to tell you: that is some of the hardest walking I've ever done
-- and I was walking mostly on perfectly flat plains. The heat
is unbearable. The kunai grass is around 6 feet high; I had to
wear a long-sleeve shirt to keep from getting sliced up because
the blades will cut you and draw blood big time. The undergrowth
felt like it wanted to just pull me under. After a few hours of
this struggling and very slow progress, I began to understand
just a little of what Uncle David and you guys went through. And
the only danger I faced was from snakes or, worse, a centipede."
JM: "The text of my poem about Grassy Knoll spells out some
of those obstacles. You'd better give me your snail mail address
so I can send you a copy as the poem is quite long for Email.
Though it may be on the envelope of the Manchester article you're
mailing to me. At some point when I get around to assembling all
of these letters into one tome (for posterity) I will have to
include "The Grassy Knoll", but I'm not quite ready
yet."
KC: "I remember stories from my childhood about Uncle Ray
and Uncle David having to endure weeks of monsoon rains. Spending
24 hours a day in clothes soaked to the bone. Never changing clothes
for two months at a time. Not being able to brush your teeth for
weeks. About some guys learning to sleep while standing up. The
harsh environment, the physical hardships alone are enough to
break many people. But you guys actually had to fight in those
circumstances.
"And yes, by all means, please send me "The Grassy Knoll.
For now, over and out. Kent"
KC: 7/7/96
"Jerry
"Package went out to you yesterday. Small surprise in it,
along with my mailing address.
"FYI...Uncle David and Uncle Ray were two of six brothers.
David and Ray were in the Marines, another was Army (stateside),
and another was Navy (never saw action). FYI, here's the story
of how Uncle Ray discovered that David had died...
"David, having survived Guadalcanal, shipped out with the
rest of the 1st Marine Division in early 1943 (February, correct?)
and went first to Brisbane, where the conditions were so bad that
Vandegrift insisted that they ship out to a more hospitable place
for R&R, which turned out to be Melbourne (does this square
with your experience?)."
JM: "The battle for Guadalcanal was declared officially over
in February 1943. The US Army formally relieved us on Dec. 9,
1942 and my unit actually left the 'Canal on the USS West Point
on Dec. 15, 1942 and sailed to Brisbane. I have no idea whether
the Fifth sailed with us that day or not. Although, if they went
to Brisbane, then they probably did leave on the same ship as
we did. My malaria-ridden mind wasn't functioning too sharply
at that time and I just wasn't interested in other details. All
I knew was that I was getting out of that miserable place.
"I was really feeling lousy that day. I came down with another
one of my famous malaria 'out-of-it' spells that morning and I
was afraid that they would keep me off the ship if I said anything.
So I got with two of my best friends and told them that if necessary,
to carry me onto the damned ship, but not to leave me behind.
They told me later that I was on the verge of blacking out a few
times but they made sure I got on board and they put me in the
lowest bunk in case I had to run to the head. One vivid and lucid
moment that I do recall was insisting on going over to the port
side of the ship so I could look back at that miserable place
as we sailed away before I blanked out and was put into my bunk.
"The camp conditions in Brisbane were very bad, but after
Guadalcanal it was like the Hilton. But even worse was that the
area was heavily populated with the anopheles mosquito that transmitted
malaria. That was not good for us, nor the local Brisbanians,
so they shipped us to a more moderate climate (Melbourne) where
we could recuperate from the malaria, regain some physical stability
and retrain for further combat missions in the Pacific."
KC: "Uncle Ray, who was a couple of years older, naturally
tried to keep up with David, his welfare, and his movements. They
corresponded through the USMC mail. I have letters they sent to
one another.
"Ray knew that David had contracted malaria and had not yet
fully recovered. (David had vivax malaria, "recurring"
malaria, the strain that plants itself in the liver and can come
back again and again over a long period of time.)"
JM: "I, like David, had the recurring malaria, and to this
day they won't take my blood because they say the germ lies dormant
in the bloodstream forever, and can get activated easily in a
malaria zone. I continued to have severe attacks, migraine headaches,
unable to eat or keep anything down - even water, so dehydration
became a side problem, and total "blackouts" for 2 to
4 days, for a year or two after returning home, but the severity
lessened with the passage of time. However I did have some symptoms
of malaria for the next ten years. And the migraines lasted for
upwards of twenty years more before they decreased in intensity."
KC: "Ray and his unit were encamped on the outskirts of Melbourne.
He knew that David had left the Solomons and was headed to Melbourne
but he didn't know exactly when. Anyway, Uncle Ray and some others
were sitting around a campfire one night shooting the breeze when
up walks a Marine in dress blues -- apparently, a rare sight under
the circumstances.
"Someone asked him where he had been to be so dressed up.
He said that he had drawn some type of funeral detail for some
poor guy who had dropped dead while walking guard duty the night
before. Someone asked what the dead guy's name was and he said
"Massey." He then turned around and looked at Uncle
Ray and said: "By the way, your name's Massey too, isn't
it?" (Massey is my maternal grandmother's family name.)"
JM: "I remember once while we were encamped at the Melbourne
Cricket Grounds when a Marine died of a heart attack while on
guard duty. It was the talk of the camp when it happened even
though no one was too surprised considering the horrible physical
condition we were in as a result of being on Guadalcanal for so
long. Can't say I remember hearing the name, but being the only
one I heard of happening there, it must have been your uncle."
KC: "This is family lore about how Uncle Ray learned of Uncle
David's death. David was 22 years old. He did drop dead of a massive
heart attack while walking guard duty. I've read the military
coroner's report and it appears that David had a pre-existing
heart condition when he entered the Corps. That, and complications
from the malaria, plus his weakness and malnourishment, took his
life. And David, like all his brothers, was a strong farm boy,
a sharecropper from Tennessee.
Anyway, thought you'd find it interesting. Until later. Kent"
KC: 7/22/96
"Sorry I haven't written for a while Jerry -- been quite
busy, on the road, going to the Olympics in Atlanta, family reunion,
brother in town for a few days ... just busy days of summer. Haven't
even booted up the computer in a week or so. Thought I'd better
let you know I'm still around.
"Did you get the package I sent to you? Hope so and hope
you enjoyed the contents. Will get back to you soon. Kent"
JM: 7/23/96
"Hi Kent,
"It seems as though you have a very active itinerary. Mine
is also, most of the time, as I am involved in various activities,
which keep me hopping. I envy your being able to go to the Olympics
though. But hey, you may never get a better chance, so go for
it.
"I did receive the Manchester article and the surprise item.
The Manchester article was outstanding. I am very grateful to
you for both. The 25-caliber bullet slug brought back a lot of
memories, particularly of some of our guys who got their souvenir
slugs fired directly from a Japanese rifle. Their rifle ammo,
the 25 cal., was greatly reduced in power to our old WWI 30 cal.
bullets. Many of the hits on fleshy body parts resulted in the
slugs remaining, whereas our 30 cal. bullets tore right through
and even bones didn't stop them. Some who survived felt they wouldn't
have made it if a higher caliber bullet had been used.
"It's ironic to get a souvenir slug after all these years.
When the Division shipped out of Melbourne before the landing
at Cape Gloucester, I was having one of my worst malaria bouts
and was in the hospital. A week or so later I and some others
who had been in the hospital were placed on board a hospital ship.
We were supposed to sail to New Caledonia and then be ferried
to rejoin the Division. However, a large concentration of Japanese
ships steaming southward into the general area of our travel caused
an easterly detour and we headed to Bora Bora in the Society Islands,
- the most beautiful place I've ever seen in this world. I can
understand why the vacation posters I see advertise it as "Paradise
on Earth."
We were there for only one day, and were not allowed to leave
the ship which was maddening. I have seen many movies and read
many books, magazines and travel brochures about beautiful South
Sea Islands, and I am convinced that Bora Bora was the composite
of them all. The hospital ship seemed to sidle up to the edge
of an underwater shelf of land that was only about eighteen inches
deep. Little native boys came running out through the shallow
water, perhaps about fifty to seventy yards out from the beach,
right up close to the ship. I remember standing by the ship's
rail and throwing coins down to the kids and them scrambling to
get them from under the water which was crystal clear and a very
pale sky blue color. If I had to pick an island to be marooned
on it would be Bora Bora. Hell if I had to pick an island for
anything it would be Bora Bora.
"After refueling and restocking, the ship continued east,
northeast and took us all the way to Long Beach Navy Yard in Calif.
By this time my malaria revisited and I was again admitted as
a patient at the hospital there.
"When I got my "land legs" and became ambulatory
several days later (never was sure how many days I'd be 'out of
it' during those attacks) I was reunited with my seabag. It had
been slit open and all of my souvenir items removed - a Japanese
Rising Sun flag, a 32 cal. pistol on a German luger frame, many
small trinket items including currency and also a 25 cal. bullet
which I had opened and emptied the powder from before replacing
the slug.
"So most of my hard-won war souvenirs are in the hands of
a thief who probably never got any closer to a combat zone than
seeing and robbing a helpless veteran in a hospital. Of course,
the Navy hospital brass issued an apology (lukewarm) and then
washed their hands of it. At this stage in my Marine Corps career
I was becoming quite used to the Navy's lukewarm apologies, about
abandoning us to die on Guadalcanal and even about thieves.
"I did however, manage to save in a small gym bag of toilet
articles that I kept with me, a small diary of Japanese origin
that I kept on the 'Canal; a plexiglass cross that I carved out
of a piece of the cockpit canopy of a downed Zero fighter plane;
and a couple of other small items. But the diary was the most
important. I still have it and the map they gave to all of us
prior to the landing. So the bullet slug is much appreciated.
"Diaries were forbidden during combat operations and of course,
most everyone wanted to keep one, but few had actual books in
which to keep their memoirs. The first dead Japanese body I came
in contact with was a downed Zero fighter pilot. His plane had
been shot down and he crashed right amidst my company.
"Our Company C.O., Captain Robert J. Putnam, detailed some
of us to pull him from the plane, gather any tactical information
like maps, official letters, etc. and then dig a small grave,
mark it and record its location. During the search, I found this
small three by five-inch pocket-sized notebook, which had never
been used that had an area below each date for a small notation.
The C.O. released it as there was no writing in it, so I took
possession and used it for a diary.
"The little info that I wrote in it would hardly have been
of any value to anyone had it gotten into enemy hands as there
wasn't enough room to write anything of significance. Some of
the other guys kept daily notes on assorted of pieces of paper.
They must have later consolidated them into a diary - or discarded
them entirely, which I almost once did as it seemed so trivial.
"Well, I've rattled on long enough for this one, so I'll
sign off. Thanks again Kent. Jerry"
CHAPTER FIVE
The Questions Begin
KC: "By the way, wanted to ask you. How many men were in
a 1st Marine Div. company? 200? That's what I've read and heard.
And how was the company divided up, into platoons? If so, how
many men were in a platoon?"
JM: "As best I can recall, (50 plus years does dim some details)
a rifle platoon had four squads of eight or nine men. In an eight
man squad there was a Squad Leader and an assistant, and two fire
teams of three men each. In a nine-man squad the extra man was
the scout. Squads would vary with availability of men, dependent
on illness, injury, etc. Each company would normally have a Headquarters
platoon and three rifle platoons.
"In some cases, as was ours, each company would have an additional
light mortar and light machine guns platoon with three squads
of each. One squad each of which would be assigned to each of
the three rifle platoons. I don't recall how many men were in
the mortar and machine gun squads, but I believe it was eight
- squad leader and assistant and two fire teams of three men each
(no scouts in the machine guns or mortars squads.) The HQ platoon
had the CO, and four lieutenants who were the platoon leaders,
the 1st Sergeant, one or two company clerks, a hospital corpsman
and as many as four runners for delivering messages, etc. So if
my arithmetic is correct, that would make our company strength
at about 145. Just remembered: - each platoon had a platoon sergeant,
so add 4 more, for a 149 total. I can't believe there'd be 149
man companies, so I must have forgotten someone.
"There were some companies that were called "reinforced",
that had additional men, usually specialists of one degree or
another, such as communications, demolitions, intelligence, and
I just remembered some more rifle company bodies, considered by
some to be the absolutely most important - the mess crew. Usually
about 4 or 5 more total, so now the 149 changes to about 154.
But the addition of specialists could probably be the type of
company that you heard about that had about 200 men."
KC: "And, on the battalion and regimental level, how did
you guys get to know one another? I mean, did you interact often
with other battalions and companies? Did the regiment go through
training together? At what stage along the line of a Marine's
odyssey after basic training was he assigned to a unit?"
JM: "Most all interaction comes within a company unit. At
times in combat situations the first and third platoons of a company
would be on the flanks of a skirmish line and they would interact
with the first and third platoons of another company. For example:
- My company K on a skirmish line would have its first platoon
on the left flank, second platoon in the center and the third
platoon on the right flank.
"Depending on the area being covered, I company might be
on our left flank and L company on the right. My battalion, (3rd)
had rifle companies I, K and L (no J) and it had M company which
was heavy mortars and heavy machine guns. These heavy weapons
were interspersed in strategic locations and sometimes assigned
to a rifle company. But by and large, most interaction was limited
to one's own company.
"As for your 3rd question, - yes, we usually always trained
as a regimental team. And the answer to your last question is
that in almost 100 percent of cases, a basic training (boot camp)
graduate is assigned to a particular unit at the completion of
that training and sent on his way to wherever it may be. As you
might suspect, the infantry divisions get the lion's share of
graduates. Consistent with Marine Corps credo 'All Marines are
infantrymen first and specialists second'.
"Naturally, when your uncles David and Ray, and I went through
boot camp it was at the beginning of World War II and probably
ninety-eight percent of the graduates were sent directly to the
infantry. In that the First Marine Division was being formed in
early 1942, that was the first one to get beefed up. I'm not sure
about your Uncle Ray, but David certainly found out as I did,
that the First Marine Division got priority over any assignments
that the individual may have preferred."
KC: "And what about Parris Island? I'm still unclear on its
role in early 1942. Uncle David didn't go through basic there
but I think Uncle Ray did. I'm sure Parris Island probably couldn't
take all the recruits rushing into the Corps in early 1942. What's
your understanding?"
JM: "I went in the Corps on January 5, 1942 and was sent
directly to Parris Island. Because of the large numbers of men
being recruited on the Eastern half of the country, Parris Island
was unable to handle all of them, so many of them were shipped
to San Diego for boot camp. We called San Diego the home of the
"Hollywood Marines" as that was where the movie moguls
went when they needed some Marines for a picture. David probably
went to San Diego, or perhaps another base that was equipped to
train. Another casualty of the war was the length of time in boot
camp.
"The normal twelve weeks was shortened to nine when I went
in. Though shortened in weeks, the days were longer, frequently
twelve to fourteen hours each for all seven days. Attendance at
church was allowed on Sunday, but training continued right after
church. But let me tell you, the shortened period did nothing
to lessen the severity and gawd-awful brutality of boot camp fame.
I can't begin to remember how many times I cursed out the Drill
Instructors (D.I.'s)- not out loud mind you; but I likewise can't
begin to remember how many times I thanked them later (in prayerful
silence) when in miserably tough conditions in combat, I always
knew that I'd survive and I always knew that I could depend on
the guys around me.
"That tough discipline and miserable treatment prepped us
for Guadalcanal. By constantly goading us into better physical
condition I think it steeled our bodies to where we were able
to override the debilitation of the malaria and other jungle diseases.
Every Marine has a love-hate relationship with his D.I. and at
some point every Marine in combat thanks that D.I. for getting
him ready for the worst."
KC: "Also, when you have time, could you give me an idea
of how you were outfitted when you landed on Guadalcanal? What
were you carrying and what were you wearing? Tell me about your
rifle, too. And how does all this compare to what you were carrying,
wearing, etc. around Thanksgiving and Christmas? I mean, were
your boots rotted out? Did you still have all your standard-issue
stuff?"
JM: "For as long as I can remember there has been an expression,
'Raggedy-ass Marines' but if I didn't know better I would have
believed it started after someone looked at us on Guadalcanal.
As stated before, the Navy decided to leave us shortly after we
landed and they left with more than half of our supplies,equipment
and personal belongings, including our seabags that contained
all of our clothing that was not on our backs or in our back-packs.
"We landed with a back-pack consisting of a bed-roll (a rubber
poncho which doubled as a shelter when tied up slantwise between
two trees, and a blanket rolled inside,) and a canvas pack that
contained mess gear, toilet articles, socks and underwear and
any personal items you could squeeze in - pictures, writing gear,
smokes, etc.
"In addition, before we disembarked from the USS McCawley
troop transport, they issued to all of us, one large onion, a
large potato, a couple of ration-type candy bars, ration-type
crackers, and 2 cans of rations, all stored in the back-pack.
"We were wearing the old WWI steel helmet. We didn't get
the pot types for several weeks later when the Seventh Regiment
came to the island. We wore two piece dungarees, ankle-high boots
called boon-dockers, underwear & socks, and the old WWI web
cartridge belt with ammo and canteen. Believe it or not, we even
had the old WWI wrap-around leggings which felt like burlap, but
I believe were pure wool. Naturally, none of us ever wore them
in that heat in spite of the protection they would have provided
against snakebites.
"Our weapons (the rifle platoons) were World War I vintage
Springfield 1903 single shot, 5 round clip rifles. Fighting in
the jungle with a non-automatic, bolt-action, single-shot, 30-caliber
rifle was probably only about one notch higher on the intelligence
scale than being issued a slingshot with a handful of rocks.
"When the Army troops started to arrive in October, we traded
the '03's plus a Jap Rising Sun flag or other souvenir for the
M-1's. The soldiers were reluctant, so we told them to report
that their rifles had been stolen. In the meantime, with the new
automatic weapons, when we were engaged in combat situations we
could more than hold our own. They used the same 30-caliber ammunition
that we had for the '03' rifles
"When General Vandegrift got the reports from the Army about
the stolen weapons, he said 'he'd investigate.' He was still investigating
when we left in December. Though dead for many years, he's probably
still investigating somewhere.
"We didn't get any replacement clothing or boots until our
seabags arrived sometime in September. The Seventh Marines brought
them along when they rejoined the Division. What we had been wearing,
if you want to call it 'wearing', were pretty tattered and torn,
not to mention, rotted from constant wear on a 24 hour a day,
7 days a week basis, for sometimes weeks before we could get to
a river or stream that was fairly secure.
"When that happened, we just dunked ourselves down into the
water, clothes and all, and if time permitted, we'd strip and
try to wash the clothes and the body as well as we could. I remember
one time when we came across a nice fresh water stream - it may
have been the Lunga, but I no longer recall. About a hundred of
us went into the water while the others sat deployed on the stream
banks and kept watch. We had been told that we could be in for
fifteen minutes and when the Skipper, Captain Putnam, called for
us to get out, he meant 'Pronto', so the others could go in.
"Well, we figured that in fifteen minutes we could strip
down and really get a good bath while also washing our clothes
(no soap of course.) Just as most of us had reached total nudity
and were ducking under and out, a Jap sniper started taking pot
shots at us. We of course decided to stay under for as long as
we could.
"Each time we would come up we could hear a veritable full
fledged war what with all of our men on the banks firing up into
trees hoping to hit a sniper or two.
"The Skipper was busy himself trying to locate the sniper
and didn't bother to call us out of the water. We enjoyed another
fifteen to twenty minutes in that beautiful, cool, refreshing
water. It was the cleanest I had been since we left San Francisco.
Oh, by the way, they did get two snipers. Both had tied themselves
into the trees they were in, so when they were shot they fell
from their positions, but dangled by their waists from the ropes
around them. A couple of the natives went up and cut them down
so we could bury them.
"At the tender age of eighteen I wasn't too concerned with
shaving. In fact, on several occasions when we were unable to
get any shaving done, I actually tried to grow a beard, but it
really was skimpy and straggly and the first chance I got, it
was gone!
"Yes, the boots were pretty well rotted out, especially the
laces which in a lot of cases were replaced with jungle vines
(I guess they were the type that Tarzan swung on only thinner,
because they were tough!) Pieces of string were also a scarce
and precious commodity but there were plenty of the vines hanging
from the trees, which were sort of like braided and easy to separate.
"When the Seventh Marines came in September and our seabags
with them, most had an extra pair of boots inside, but a lot of
the bags had gotten pretty well beaten up and many didn't have
much left inside. But with the Marine spirit, we all shared as
much as we could spare with the unlucky ones. But even the newer
replacement pairs were in very dplorable shape by the time we
left in December.
"I mean, how long can a pair of boots last when one has to
wear them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? For that matter, how
long can feet survive the rigors of jungle rot when boots are
not removed for days at a time? At one point I had a blister on
the sole of my left foot that was as wide as my foot and by about
two inches from front to back. It was very uncomfortable walking
with it so I naturally favored it and walked on the side of my
foot.
"During one rest break I removed my boot and sock and twisted
my foot up to look at the blister. The stretching of the tight
skin covering the blister made it suddenly burst and shot a stream
of liquid up in the air about five or six feet. But what a relief.
It felt like a new foot! But then the itching would begin.
"Like the presentation of pure gold, Australia meant a new
issue of just about everything when we got there. Fresh clean
new uniform clothing, socks, underwear, dungarees - the works.
God did that stuff feel good."
KC: "As you can probably surmise, I'm trying to get an
idea of the daily hardships you guys faced. How often did you
shave? Did you take atabrine every day? What were your rations?
(I've read that, upon Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher's premature
and, some say, cowardly withdrawal with about 60% of the Marines'
supplies, Gen. Vandegrift immediately put all hands on half rations.
True?) And did you learn to split coconuts? Learn to crack the
green ones for their cool, delicious milk? How about bananas and
mangoes did you pick your own from the trees?"
JM: "Shaving was a luxury. Though Marine Corps discipline
was rigidly enforced, some beards were allowed to sprout from
time to time due to the inability to get to water to shave, but
not for long periods. Somewhat due to discomfort but mostly due
to Marine Corps prohibition of facial hair. Soap was scarce and
every last bit of suds in a bar was nursed to wash. Some pooled
their last bits of soap for meltdown into one large bar, which
was then divided.
"Razor blades rusted quickly with the dampness and constant
humidity. Sometimes a half dozen or more guys would share one
blade so there wasn't much longevity for those things. The blades
were also used for crude haircuts, trimming tatters from clothing
and cutting bandage material to make it last longer for wound
dressings.
"We were on drastically reduced rations right from the start,
a maximum of two meals a day. We did recover a large stash of
rice and oats that the Japs had left behind when they departed
in a hurry on the morning of August 7th and headed for the hills.
"The biggest problem was that it was infested with bugs which
burrowed into the oats especially, and were difficult to detect.
Sometimes they survived cooking and would surface still alive,
at least partially, while eating. Not very appetizing by today's
standards, but not terribly upsetting to the Marines who would
just flick them out of the mess kit and go on eating.
"Because the rice and oats had to be cooked we were reduced
to having it only when there were no Jap troops in the immediate
vicinity. A lot of men congregating in one place and lining up
to get their meal presented a tempting target for snipers and
small artillery fire. Several times we lost men when the chow
line was shelled, so it wasn't very often when we got those hot
meals.
"Hunger dictates many diverse changes in one's habits. The
much publicized and much despised 'C' rations that were issued,
- canned beef stew, beans, spaghetti w/meat sauce really became
our gourmet rations. We looked forward to the issuance of these
canned delights. Though, as with all our other items, these rations
were in short supply, and were mostly gone entirely within a few
weeks of our landing there.
"There were also the hardtack crackers which fortunately
came in sealed tins, because they also became bug infested after
a very short duration outside of the tins; not to mention soggy
and unappetizing from the moist and humid conditions.
"The least appetizing item on the menu was one atabrine tablet
which was given under strict scrutiny of the medical corpsman
who would insist that it be swallowed as he watched. "Doc",
as all corpsmen were called, became a hated pariah in all mess
lines. The supply of these tablets began to dwindle after the
first week and the individual supply went from one a day, to one
every other day, 3 days, etc. 'til the supply was exhausted.
"This absence of the preventive medicine has been largely
credited for the susceptibility of the malaria contraction among
the Marines. It was several weeks later before a new supply came
in, more than enough time for the anopheles mosquito to visit
just about every man on the island. The damage had been done.
"Liquid quinine was also administered occasionally and to
this very day I pucker up at the thought of it. In all of this
world, I doubt that there is anything more repulsive to taste
than liquid quinine. Given prior to a meal it was almost a guarantee
that the rations would last for all of the men as many would refuse
to eat rather than accept the horrible quinine that came with
the meal. Given after a meal was definitely a guarantee that your
meal would not stay down, so either way you left the mess area
with an empty stomach. The dosage was about one tablespoon.
"Aah, the lovely coconuts. Yes we did enjoy those. For a
while. But there was a consensus with the medical personnel that
these were definitely a major contributing source to dysentery.
But even knowing that, we would still give in to their sweet milk
and white meat.
"Some of our guys became very adept at climbing the trees
and cutting them loose with machetes. One of our jeep drivers,
a guy named Cohen (we jokingly nicknamed him Quinn), a long lanky
guy, became an expert at scaling the trees in barefoot to cut
some of the more recalcitrant fruits from the trees. The nightly
bombings and shellings by the Jap planes and ships also provided
an abundant supply each day.
"There were no banana or mango plants in our immediate vicinity,
but at one point, my company was entrenched in the midst of a
lime plantation, largely devastated by the bombs and shells. But
there were enough still on the bushes so that we could enjoy the
taste. (Eating a fresh lime straight off the bush today would
draw my face into a great prune impression, but back then it was
like eating an orange.)
"Curious mixtures of lime juice, medical alcohol, torpedo
fluid and just about any kind of after shave lotion were buried
underwater in the cool sand just off the beach, attached to long
tethers (again, vines fashioned into ropes). Retrieval the next
day produced a very cooling, but very powerful drink. We were
very careful not to let the officers, corpsmen and some NCO's
find them - which they sometimes did and emptied the canteens
into the sand as we watched with tears in our eyes.
"Incidentally, we did manage to keep a fairly sizable stash
of sake rice wine hidden for several weeks doling it out carefully
and before it was all consumed. A very little bit of sake went
a long way it was so powerful. A small amount of Japanese beer
was also seized when we first went into the airstrip area, but
it was so delicious, it was gone in no time."
KC: "How often did you sleep and how did you sleep? What
did you guys do at night on the lines? Was smoking allowed at
night?"
JM: "Night sleep was also a luxury that was not afforded
to many of us. I became quite adept at sleeping while I was awake.
As strange as it sounds it's true. I could doze off in seconds
and wake just as quickly. Night sleep often proved deadly, so
we avoided dropping off, keeping alert as much as we could.
"During those times when the Jap troops were reported by
the natives to be a great distance away, we would do sing-alongs,
and even some solos from the better singers. But a lot of the
conversation centered on the girl friends back home. It seemed
as though each guy got his turn to describe his girl friend and
her many charms. Naturally each guy tried to better the guy before
him until you would have thought they were all Betty Grable's
or Dorothy Lamour's.
"During the day when things were reasonably still, that is,
no air raids, no strafing fighter planes, no shellings from off
shore, no long range artillery, sleep came easily, if only in
fits and spurts. But sometimes even then we had to be on the alert
for suicide missions of Jap stragglers who had been separated
from their units and were starving and probably figured they'd
either get killed or get food and be out of their misery in either
event.
"If they really got lucky and were taken prisoner they'd
get food and rest. We didn't take too many prisoners however,
because most of the time in the first several months we just couldn't
afford to give away any of our rations. So only a minute few were
taken, mostly to try to get information.
"Our best source of information came from the native boys
and men. Many of them would work for the Japs during the day,
observing as much as they could then they would relay the information
back to us through their friends and relatives. One such wonderful
person was an older native named Jacob Vousa who prior to the
Japanese takeover of the island, had been the equivalent of one
of our chiefs of police.
"Yes, even on a remote jungle island with poverty-stricken
natives, there was some crime. Nothing like we know of here in
the States, but enough so that the tribal elders appointed one
person to be the enforcer. What that entailed I never found out.
"Vousa made many trips behind enemy lines risking his life
on each occasion, in fact once when he was caught, the Japs stabbed
him dozens of times with their bayonets trying to get him to talk.
When they thought he had died of the wounds, they finally stopped
and left him for dead. Somehow he managed to crawl back to our
lines where he was treated for his wounds and he recovered to
serve us again. He helped us so much we made him an honorary Marine
Corps Sergeant Major. He was one very proud native with his sergeant
stripes.
"During hostility periods, (almost always at night with the
Japs) sleep was done in the daytime any way or anywhere you could
get it. Most of us snored when we slept and that was one thing
we couldn't let happen at night as the noise carried too well
and the Japs could home in on the noise and make a sudden attack.
We always paired up so that if one began to nod off and start
to snore or even breathe loudly the other could nudge him.
"If both dropped off and made a noise someone in another
position would be on them in a flash and with a bayonet to show
them what might have happened to them. They say that the young
don't require as much sleep. Thank God most of us were young,
because sleep was severely rationed.
"We ran out of cigarettes shortly after we got there, so
smoking at night was never a problem. When there were cigarettes,
we were extremely careful to light up under dense cover and take
only a few puffs before extinguishing. Most of the time we just
didn't smoke at night, even later when we started to get more
supplies of cigarettes because we became aware of the dangers
involved."
CHAPTER SIX
The Questions Continue
KC: "Did you run across any snakes? How about those centipedes?
Did you hear any reports of anyone seeing crocodiles in the rivers?
And did you ever run across coconut crabs? Hear any talk of a
place called Gold Ridge? Did anyone know that the mountain range
running along the spine of Guadalcanal held large deposits of
alluvial gold?
Kent"
JM: "My answer to your first question (re: snakes) is usually
incredulous to just about everyone who asks, and I guess it is:
- only once. After I've told people about the dense jungle underbrush;
the shallow, slow moving, brackish streams; the deep grass and
living and sleeping on the ground and only once encountering a
snake, they just stare in disbelief.
"We discussed it among ourselves and concluded that our ships
and planes laid down such a carpet of bombardment prior to the
landings that it is doubtful ANYTHING could have survived except
humans who would know how to avoid the firing. Then when we came
ashore on foot, there were thousands of us, tramping or tromping
on, anything that may have made it. Our perimeter was rather small
for a military maneuver - about five miles long and three miles
in width and the shelling and bombing of course continued after
we settled in - only then the Japs were the shellers and bombers
and we were the shellees.
"It was a steady diet of explosions within that small area
so the snakes were either nearly all killed or they got smart
and headed for quieter parts. Centipedes were the normal small
ones, an inch or smaller, that were always getting into our packs
and other things, but none of the big ones.
"As for crocodiles, the only one we ever saw we killed with
hand grenades when he got too near to where we were trying to
cross the river. I honestly don't remember whether it was the
Matanikau River or Alligator Creek (which we thought was the Tenaru
River - or was it the Ilu???) Bullets seemed to just bounce off
his hide, so a couple of well-placed grenades blew most of his
head off. We cooked the rest of him after one of our men who was
a butcher in civilian life carved him into steaks. First, (and
last) time I ever had alligator/crocodile steak. Very strong,
but better than rice and oats.
"As for coconut crabs, I never did see one. There seemed
to be a lot of the lizards that we called iguanas. They were small
however, about five to seven inches long, so we never were sure
about the iguana designation. They were also perfectly harmless,
or at least no one was ever bitten by any of them. However, we
all tried to keep some distance between them, and us except for
the ones that would cuddle up close to you during the night if
you were lying on the ground. It got quite chilly some nights
and I guess they wanted the warmth of our bodies. They'd scurry
off if you moved but in a short while they'd be back.
"One of the Australians who was part of the Coastal Watch
group that relayed messages about approaching Jap aircraft or
ships, told some of us of such a place as the Gold Ridge. But
he said that there wasn't enough to make it worth while for all
of the work it would take to get it, and that some of the natives
were responsible for seeing that it was not disturbed.
"But because it was well outside of our lines and we didn't
have any time for exploring anyway, no one ever even suggested
looking for it. I also think that most of us were a bit skeptical
of the whole story.
"We also heard stories that the southern side of the island
was like a tropical paradise with beautiful beaches and even beautiful
native girls. Some of the Navy guys who tied up at Kukum debunked
those stories. But we always wondered - who was lying??? Were
the Navy guys trying to keep us from going over the mountains
once we secured the island or was the Australian trying to protect
the gold secret for himself??
"We never found out as there never was any free time, and
in the physical condition we were in, the only thing on our minds
in December was to get the hell out of there. Even the thought
of getting some of the gold or even some of the beautiful native
girls wasn't enough to make me want to stay one minute longer."
KC: "What was the toughest night or day for you, Jerry?
The toughest engagement you were in? What was the worst hardship?"
JM: "There were several nights that could qualify as the
toughest. The first two or three on the island as we were trying
to secure the 'grassy knoll'; and when the sea in front of us
was lit up with burning ships and we didn't know who was winning,
but feared that an all-out invasion would take place, had to rank
right up there in the "tough" category.
"The night that Col. Ichiki tried to cross the (here we go
again), the Tenaru River or Alligator Creek right smack into our
regiment's positions was a high scorer also.
"Our battalion, as I have mentioned, was on the left flank
covering the ocean to prevent a landing behind the lines, and
was not in any direct contact with the Japs. But it's the not
knowing what's going on when you hear all of the shooting that
gets real "tough" - or to be blunt - scary!
"Then when the fierce shooting would momentarily cease, the
quiet lulls would make you even more tense. You begin to wonder
if the Japs had killed all of our men and were sneaking up behind,
or all around us ready to pounce at any moment. Even the click
of the sand crabs made us jump. You pray awfully hard for daylight.
"In September, our company was on the flank of Bloody Ridge
(known to us then only as the rocky ridges.) There were some very
uncomfortable nights when enemy troops were sending seemingly
non-stop wave after wave of troops into our firing zones that
definitely were "tough" and scary.
"But I'd have to say that the absolute toughest night was
when the ten Japanese tanks tried to cross the sandy spit across
the mouth of the Matanikau, right smack into my company's lines.
The noise of the tanks was bad enough, but the insane screaming
of the charging Jap soldiers who came alongside and behind the
tanks was mind-bending and nerve wracking. I often wondered how
we survived that night. There were times that night when I wished
the earth would swallow me up whole and protect me.
"As for days, except for the bombings and shellings, which
was nearly all of them, most were alike. Once on a patrol across
the Matanikau we got jumped by a unit of very well hidden and
camouflaged fresh, newly landed Jap troops with new uniforms and
equipment.
"In spite of their bravado they showed they were new and
probably even more scared than we were. They outnumbered us by
quite a bit, but we had been in these situations before during
the eight to ten weeks we had been on the island, so we just tried
to remain steady and make all our shots count. And, we had several
BAR'men (Browning Automatic Rifle) who were cracker-jack shooters,
so in spite of their superior numbers, physical condition and
equipment, they turned and ran - those that were able to, that
is.
"The toughest engagement was also the toughest night as you
know from my account of the tank crossing battle. It was the closest
that I came to having to use my bayonet. In those situations where
it was reasonably expected that there might be hand-to-hand encounters,
we were always given the order beforehand to "fix bayonets."
"In the confusion of the tanks trying to cross; the extreme
noise of the artillery shells and anti-tank weapons exploding;
mixed with the unintelligible screaming of the Jap soldiers trying
to overrun us, there wasn't always time to stop, load in a new
clip of bullets and work the rifle bolt to get a fresh round into
the chamber. So the fallback response was, - the bayonet.
"Even though we had been highly trained in its use and had
practiced using it in straw dummies in training sessions, you
always hoped that you would never have to use it. But the inevitable
happened that night when I had exhausted all of the rounds in
my rifle firing into one or more of the Japs that were coming
at us.
"They of course were also firing as they ran which is most
likely why they weren't hitting much of anything except trees
and the ground. I was all set to use the bayonet when both of
the ones that were headed directly at me suddenly dropped as though
their legs had been cut off.
"The BAR'man nearest me saw what was happening and he yelled
for me to get down, then just blew them away with several bursts
of bullets. It was the first time that I had pissed my pants since
I was a little kid. I wasn't sure exactly when it had happened,
but there was no mistake about it. It's a sensation with a lingering
discomfort you never forget, and an embarrassment I've never mentioned
before. Was I scared? Yeah, you could say that.
"I would guess the worst hardship was the lack of food, fresh
water, sanitation, cleanliness, ammunition, long-range weapons,
air & naval support for the first two weeks, and watching
the Japs unload ships with fresh troops further up the island
at Cape Esperance and not being able to do anything about it.
Or maybe just being there was the worst.
"During the many years since that ugly experience I have
at times thought that I might be experiencing some undue hardship,
but on each occasion I'd remember how much real pain and suffering
we lived through over there and suddenly the perceived hardship
disappeared. All things really are, as they say, a matter of relativity."
KC: "And what did you guys say to one another during the
nighttime naval battles? Surely you could hear the roar and see
the flashes, eh?"
JM: "The first night as we headed inland toward the grassy
knoll, we were so exhausted from the ordeal of just getting to
the base of the hill we literally collapsed in our tracks the
moment we were ordered to cease the march. It mattered not what
was on the ground or in the air, we couldn't have mustered even
a mild slap at a mosquito. Our only thought was - REST!
"The word was passed down the columns that every other man
would sleep for 2 hours while the others would remain awake and
alert - hah! Oh, there were some that were so nervous they couldn't
have slept, even if it had been their turns. These were also the
ones that opened fire at any noise, so most everyone stayed low
and kept quiet.
"The second night was a sleepless night for all, Japs and
Americans. Some of our units continued to move forward up the
hill trying to gain an advantage. The resistance was severe and
the sharp crack of rifle fire echoed all night long. The warship
explosions were very vivid in the extreme darkness and it seemed
that both sides paused to listen to the explosions and look at
the burning sky.
"At daybreak most hostility quieted down, except for occasional
brief outbreaks. But later after we had had a 'catnap' or two,
we were ordered on the move again and we fought our way to the
top of that knoll.
"The third night, after we had secured the knoll, we were
able to rest, and as a result, only those whose turn it was to
stay awake, saw the naval flashes out on the bay. The rest didn't
even hear the roar of the big naval guns.
"Of course, we had no idea who was who and we naturally thought
that our guys were winning. Wrong! The Japs pulled off what naval
battle strategists call 'hitting the jackpot'. As they steamed
southward in a long column, the allied ships 'crossed the 'T',
westward to eastward and were blown out of and then down under
the water. I'm sure you know about that battle. One of our worst
defeats. It was the key to Japanese air and sea superiority for
many weeks to come.
"Some nights, when the Japanese ships were shelling us, we
might get to see the first few rounds as they were fired, but
when after a short time we realized that they were being aimed
at us, we got into any shelter we could. Because of the distance,
we could see the large explosion-like balls of fire as they exited
the long-range guns on the ships. It seemed deathly silent for
a few seconds until the sound from the gunfire made its way to
our ears, but we usually heard the sound nearly simultaneously
with the incoming whistle of the projectile. During the quiet
interval we tried to determine if the shots were aimed in our
direction or at another ship. The sound would of course precede
the projectile and it would be louder than if fired away toward
another ship. We had to move fast for shelter if it was targeted
on us.
"As for talking to each other, we mostly were quiet with
our own thoughts, and prayers. It was very frightening, particularly
when one or more of the big 16 inch'ers would land fairly close
by. During the November 13th all night long shelling one of the
big shells struck the edge of the bomb shelter I was in and nearly
buried all of us.
"The shelters were made by digging a square pit, usually
about eight to ten feet square and about six or seven feet deep.
But there were many different sizes. Across the top would be coconut
trees pushed together as tightly as possible. Some of the shelters
would then put another tree on top of that first row, but in between
the first layer of logs to help block the cracks between the logs.
Then we'd pile all of the dirt that had been excavated from the
hole on top of the logs. We'd try to wet it down a bit hoping
to make a mud seal between the logs.
"We'd dig entrances parallel to one of the sides for several
feet and then cut into the shelter. That helped to cut down on
the noise and the light flashes. They weren't very comfortable
as the ground was very damp and the air was pretty foul.
"Mostly, we'd just sit there in silence leaning up against
the equally damp walls and wait it out. Now and then when the
shelling would ease up, there would be the usual, "Do you
think that's all?" or something like that. We found that
most of the naval shellings went on for upwards of three to four
hours causing more harassment than damage, but that was probably
their purpose, with damage more incidental than intentional.
"These shellings frequently preceded a heavy ground engagement
by the Japs. Sometimes we were more anxious when the shelling
stopped than when it continued, due to the possibility of a major
enemy landing. Those definitely were no-sleep nights. And we got
out of the shelters as soon as possible after the shellings so
as not to get trapped down there.
"But on the night of Nov.13th when a shell hit at the edge
of the logs across the top, it pushed them lengthways and the
ends dropped down into the pit. Some of the guys got pinned down
under the logs and dirt and had to be dug out. One of the logs
came down across my left shin and ripped the flesh pretty good
right down to the bone, but luckily, no break."
KC: "Believe it or not Jerry, I've encountered a paucity
of such information about the daily struggle to just survive on
Guadalcanal. I've read personal accounts that breeze over it in
no more than a couple of paragraphs. But, having lived there and
walked many kilometers through its terrain, I know that
just the environment of Guadalcanal could quickly make a man's
life hell. The heat, the dust, the 'mossies' (Australian for mosquitoes),
the stinging sandflies, and then the torrential rain -- all these
things and more make camping outdoors on Guadalcanal something
less than a family vacation."
JM: "I'd have to agree that Guadalcanal would not be one
of my top choices of a place to go camping. I had eighteen weeks
of it in '42 and most certainly am not in any hurry to repeat
it. All of those lovely elements you mentioned, heat, dust, "mossies",
sandflies, torrential rain can only be addressed by adding, knee-deep
mud, oppressive humidity, lizards, very cool nights and probably
now, snakes and centipedes. It's enough to make a grown Marine
wince.
"You've not mentioned earthquakes in any of your letters.
Is it possible that there were none while you were there? In our
four-plus months we experienced just one, but what a thrill! It
was the only one I had ever been through before or since - and
I hope it was the last. It felt like the whole island was nothing
more than a large float adrift in a stormy sea.
"Though only of short duration, probably less than a minute,
we did enjoy its brevity and it provided us with some very light
moments afterward as follows. One of our guys who was at that
moment straddled over a slit trench, a narrow, twelve to fifteen
inches wide, about two feet deep and about eight to tem feet long
trench which served as our outdoor sanitation facility. Everywhere
we went the first order of business was to locate the slit trench,
usually downwind from our positions and away from the spots where
we would dig foxholes in which we "lived". There were
probably hundreds of them around our occupied area.
"When the earthquake began he lost his footing and balance
and fell into the trench. Needless to say he was about as popular
as a skunk at a picnic and I'm sure the skunk would probably have
smelled better. Not that any of us were live ads for Old Spice
cologne. He did get to a stream, immersing himself, clothes and
all and was accepted back into the fold.
"But yes, the environment was almost totally responsible
for our highly debilitated state. The lack of proper food and
water was certainly a factor as well as the constant harassment
from the Japs, land and air. But the brutal steaming heat from
the direct sun or rising from the always-damp jungle earth as
a result of excessively high humidity, did little to allow our
bodies to function normally.
"Salt tablets were taken when available, but they tended
to make one thirsty and water wasn't always available. We literally
gave up trying to keep the mosquitoes away or off of us. When
we tried to keep our clothing buttoned up tightly with sleeves
rolled down, it made the heat and humidity even worse, and the
damned mosquitoes bit right through the clothing anyhow. So I
even found myself watching them land on my arm and digging in,
too tired and often too weak to even bother to slap at them.
"The sandflies were just as bad, if not worse. At least the
mosquitoes stayed outside your clothing, - the sandflies delighted
in getting inside the buttonhole gaps or in your ears, nose, mouth
and eyes. I remember once saying out loud, and meant for the sandflies
that seemed intent on trying to get in my mouth, "For crissakes,
I' m not dead yet, get the hell outta here!" A couple of
the guys near me started laughing as they said I looked so damned
serious."
KC: "Did you guys look up at the stars and wonder? Gaze at
the Southern Cross? See shooting stars?"
JM: "Just about every chance we got, we did. In spite of
the seemingly unending misery and strife over there, we did have
an occasional quiet break; - usually right after a major battle
when the Japs had to fall back, lick their wounds and try to regroup.
"Thoughts of home, families and girl-friends took center
stage during those moments and it was almost unanimous. We relished
the peace and quiet, which didn't happen very often. Those were
the times when you'd ask yourself, 'why am I here?', 'will I ever
get home again?', 'I wonder what the guys (and gals) are doing
right now back home?'. Right about that time is when
we'd hear the drone of "Washing Machine Charlie", the
very late night Jap harassment bomber, usually all alone, who
would cross over our area, drop some bombs, not in some well-thought-out
pattern, just helter-skelter, designed only to harass. And we
would run for the shelters. We could always hear his plane several
minutes before we heard the 'whumph, whumph, thud, thud' landing
of the bombs, so we had time to take cover.
"We all marveled at the Southern Cross not realizing that
it would be a focal point on our division patch not too many months
later. Everyone thought it was most appropriate to be on the division
patch. It's not something that can be seen in the skies back home,
so we were very proud of being able to show it off. I'm sure you've
probably got one of the patches, but just in case you don't, I'd
like you to have one. A small way of thanking you for the Jap
bullet slug you sent me. I'll send it by snail mail of course.
"I must have seen some shooting stars, but I don't specifically
remember any particularly significant occasion. I do remember
that the skies in that part of the world seemed to have an inordinately
larger number of stars than we do here in the Northern Hemisphere.
And, they seemed nearer and brighter than ours. It really was
a beautiful sky down there."
KC: "A few emails ago I mentioned the coconut crabs and asked
if you had ever seen them. And of course, you were pretty busy
then and probably wouldn't have even noticed them. Also, the fact
of all the bombing and shelling probably held down their numbers.
However it really is a sight.
"We experienced two great migrations during the final months
of 1992: the first was coconut crabs migrating north, across the
plains, towards the beach, the second was what we called "the
plague of the frogs," also migrating towards the sea. Coconut
crabs are ugly, almost sci-fi-looking mutations of land crabs,
with huge, round shells and weird colors. They live in and around
the trunks of coconut trees. They're called coconut crabs because
they feed on coconuts: their claws are so large and strong that
they can actually crack open a coconut to get the meat. They can
easily take a few fingers or mangle a hand. But, once a year,
at night, they move towards the sea.
"It is a big deal for the Solomons people because a coconut
crab is a delicacy and it's free -- if you can catch one. I will
forever have visions of the Solomons people all over the plains
at night, carrying torches, stepping gingerly through the jungle
or kunai grass, looking for coconut crabs.
"The frogs are not for eating, however. A couple of nights
in January, during the start of the rainy season, literally tens
upon tens of thousands of frogs also move at night, from the bush,
across the plains, and towards the sea. Driving to Red Beach (as
it's now known) from town those nights, I must have killed a thousand.
It sounded like somebody was playing the drums on the underside
of my old, battered Suzuki LJ50. Eighteen kilometers of "splat-thump-splat-thump."
They were EVERYWHERE. It looked biblical in my headlights."
JM: "No we never experienced the migration or plague of coconut
crabs or frogs. Perhaps because of the excessive bombardment that
preceded our landing, or if such events do occur only in January,
it was because our guest reservations covered only Aug. 7th to
Dec. 15th of '42. I think I'm not too unhappy that I didn't get
to be a part of such an auspicious occasion."
KC: "I'd like to ask a few more questions if you're up to
it Jerry. Such as: What were you guys told about Guadalcanal before
you landed? What were you told to expect about the environment?"
JM: "Very little on each question Kent. Not much was known
about the island. Our intelligence people interviewed Aussie scouts,
coast-watchers and what English and Australian businessmen they
could locate. They got some poor quality aerial photos, but, as
you know by the Tenaru/Ilu controversy, they didn't learn a lot.
"The crudely sketched map they gave to all of us, turned
out to be a fairly accurate guide, but woefully out of scale.
I think I told you in an earlier letter that I still have the
copy of the map that was given to me (every man got a copy) prior
to the landing. I carried it in my wallet for a long time. When
I finally got settled down back home, I packed it away for safekeeping
and though frayed and yellowed, it is still quite legible after
54 years.
"The intelligence people did learn about the mosquito/malaria
problem and had thoughtfully packed plenty of atabrine and quinine
for our stay, but the Navy liked it so much they took it with
them when they abandoned us for safer waters. Our intelligence
folks also were aware of the tropical environment and jungle areas,
but the map didn't accurately show the locations. We went in there
pretty much blindfolded as well as having one arm tied behind
our backs due to a lack of food and equipment."
Chapters7-9