1943

Chapter 10

The Devil Dogs of the Sea were out that night, wound up tight, and ready for anything. Carlson’s Marines would much rather be curled up in a dry spot under thick trees, but now that they were here, a good old fashioned night raid seemed just the thing to raise their spirits. It was better than watching the rain fill up your dugout, or thinking about the Cat Beer they’d feed you for breakfast back in the barracks. That was Marine slang for milk, Moo Juice, the stuff that came in the armored cows, cases of canned milk set out back in Suva for the lines of hungry men. And you knew things were bad when you found yourself dreaming about those trays full of the sliced ham that didn’t pass its physical—SPAM. All those jawbreaker biscuits didn’t seem so bad now either, not when you were out in the bush; not on a night like this.

So now the line had become dead still, the mud eaters earning their name as they crouched low. The scout shrunk back, until he found Carlson, who always led from the front.

“Three japs, and they look to be digging in with their army banjos.” He meant their shovels, of course.

“Where there’s smoke there’s fire,” said Carlson, looking over his shoulder to find Sergeant Allard. He gave him a silent hand signal indicating he wanted him to deploy his squad to the right. Then he waved Sergeant Cook off to the left. For once he was grateful for the soup they were in, for the fog would mask this deployment.

It did that, but Kenji Tokawa could hear it, smell it, and he knew what was coming next. The two men behind felt him tense up, and then one was stupid enough to rasp out something at the mine layers. Then all hell broke loose. There came a sharp burp of a Tommy Gun, and they saw three men in the mine team go down, the other two instinctively going prone, with one stupidly falling right on a freshly laid mine. The explosion blew the whole team to pieces, and then Tokawa let the lead fly from his Type 96.

Somebody shouted “Grenades!” and three pineapples flew up out of the mist, exploding all around the gun position and raking those last three men with shrapnel. Two went down, but not Tokawa. His hands were glued to his machine gun, and he fired until the cartridge ran dry, looking frantically around him for a second one when a Marine Sniper finally put a bullet right between those two sharp eyes and ears.

Silence. The cold mist laced with smoke and the smell of battle. Then came shouts from up ahead, and Carlson knew they had found the enemy line.

“Come on!” he shouted. “Get the lead out!”

He was on the radio at once: “Bluebird, this is Red Riding Hood. Come in Bluebird, Over.”

“Roger Red Riding Hood, Bluebird, Bluebird, over.”

“Big Bad Wolf. Repeat. Big Bad Wolf!”

“Roger wilco, Red Riding Hood. Big Bad Wolf.”

That was the signal for Edson’s battalion to open up, and seconds later they could hear the crump and pop of their 60mm Mortars, then the rattle of machineguns and a lot of semi-automatic fire. The sky was suddenly alight with the dull gleam of flares fired up by the enemy, then three bright star shells illuminated the scene. Carlson’s first platoon rushed forward, but Allen’s squad ran right over the mines the enemy had laid, and they put two men down for good. But that didn’t stop those Raiders. Their blood was up and they came charging through the ground fog like a wind of death.

That end of the Japanese line was being held by the Machinegun Company of II Battalion, 230th Regiment. It was going to be hit by three of Carlson’s Companies, which made good use of the uneven terrain as they advanced. The fire teams used their BARs and Tommy Guns to try and suppress the MGs, but the Japanese were putting up a very robust defense. They had taken a position with enough open ground to its front to make for a very difficult approach. In spite of the advantage of surprise, and the darkness, the Marines could not advance under that withering fire.

Then came the artillery.

Seeing his flank as exposed and subject to just this sort of attack, Colonel Shoji had pre-registered a battery of guns on that ground. The rounds fell just short of where the Marines had gone to ground to duel with those MGs, but Carlson could see they were going to walk them back through his men in short order.

Then something happened that no one expected. It was just one of those haphazard moments, men lost and bumbling about in the dark, but it decided the battle that night. The Japanese III Company, had been in the fight against Edson’s Battalion as it advanced on the town of Solo and the foot bridge. It was overrun, a third of its men killed, but in the confusion of that fighting, a sergeant led his men the wrong way and the unit moved south, thinking to find exposed elements of the American forces there to ambush.

They found nothing, wandered about in the dark for some time, and then someone produced a compass to find the way back north. Reduced to just six understrength squads, stumbling through the inky blackness and mist, they came upon the rear of Edson’s line again as they were laying down their diversionary fire for Carlson. The snap and pop of gunfire from that direction was most unexpected and the one thing that hit Edson’s mind was his remonstration to Carlson—the enemy moves at night.

“Hell!” he swore. “The bastards have worked around behind us somehow. Get on the radio to Carlson. Tell him we’ve been snookered.”

It didn’t take a radio call to convince Carlson that his little night foray had been ill advised. His men grounded by that MG and artillery fire, which decided the matter. He produced a pocket whistle, blew hard, and gave the signal to withdraw.

The night attack had been stopped, but on the other side of the M’ba River, the 2nd Marines had pushed right to the edge of the airfield. It was only the timely arrival of two companies of the Yokosuka SNLF that prevented the field from being overrun. Yet now Colonel Shoji could see that it was useless to leave his men where they were. The planes had all flown off, and the field was under enemy mortar fire. He had a perfectly good strongpoint to the rear at the sugar mill overlooking the rail bridge on the river. The open ground of the airfield could become a killing field from that position. If that were not enough, another night foray, this time done right by the Fiji Commandos, was the final straw.

The Kiwis had been on the southern flank of Collins’ division in the north, but left two days earlier, traveling mostly by night, and made their way over the high ridge behind the gold mine at Vatukoula. The defense of that sector had been given to Colonel Tanaka’s 229th Regiment, and it was fending off both the 35th Regiment of the Tropic Lightning Division, reinforced by the arrival of the 145th Regiment of the 37th Division, which had come over from Vanua Levu. For the last three days, Tanaka had worked a full battalion in those mines, carting off as much as he could and sending it back towards M’ba. But he hadn’t counted on the night banditry of the Kiwis.

The Commandos found a section of the lightly guarded carts and pack horses, and crept into position. As the lead pack horse rounded a bend, there were three burley commandos, wearing dark bandanas and an evil grin.

“Hello Mates,” said one. “This here’s a toll road. What’s that you’ve got tucked away there? Looks like it’ll make a nice tidy payment.”

The Japanese had no idea what they had said, and were gunned down as they frantically tried to get to their shouldered rifles. Then the Kiwis “Commandeered” the gold, led it off the trail, and assigned a small team to deal with it, moving on into the silence and shadow of the mist. Drawn to the sound of fighting to the west, they would arrive on the flank of the battle for M’ba field at just the right moment.

Colonel Shoji heard the sound of their coming as fighting broke out on his extreme left flank. He quickly gave the order to redeploy to the sugar mill. Then he got on the radio and notified General Sato, informing him of the situation. The only two bridges over the M’ba river would soon be under attack, and if they fell, it would mean two thirds of the 38th Division would be cut off east of the river at Tavua. With great reluctance, Sato sent word that Ito and Tanaka should bring their regiments to M’ba at once.

Collins would take Tavua the next day.

The loss of Tavua and the gold mines were serious enough that Sato now contemplated suicide rather than explain why this had happened to any superior officer up the chain of command. Yet for the moment, the necessities of war stayed his hand. There was no word in the Japanese language for retreat, yet that was what Ito and Tanaka were now doing, no matter how the move was couched as a redeployment to see to the defense of M’ba.

Further south, Sato could also take some solace in the fact that the 48th Division had also redeployed, falling back to the very outskirts of Nandi itself in the face of a determined and relentless attack by Patch and the 23rd Pacifica Division.

In both these actions the Japanese had suffered from the fact that they had only two regiments forward deployed on the defense. Sato had kept his 230th Regiment in the rear at M’ba, and wisely, for that vital field and the bridges over the river would already be in enemy hands if he had not done so. As for Major General Tsuchihashi in the 48th Division, he had deployed his 1st and 2nd Formosa Regiments on the Momi Line when the attack started, but retained Abe’s Regiment at Nandi as a reserve, and to watch for any possible enemy landing from the sea.

This need to keep troops on the coast between Nandi and Latouka was a serious liability, and it meant that the Japanese could never get parity with the attackers, who enjoyed a two to one advantage on both fronts.

Just as the action on the main Fiji island was looking inevitably grim for the Japanese, a long simmering feud between two senior officers was going to weigh heavily the outcome. It had started months ago, involving Colonel Masanobu Tsuji, the brilliant and aggressive planner that had helped lead Yamashita’s lightning advance through Malaya. Yet in tandem with those qualities, his temperament included a strong dose of brutality, and many atrocities were committed when Tsuji was near. One such incident was the terrible Sook-Ching Massacre of Chinese in Malaysia and Singapore, and another smaller affair had occurred on the island of Cebu, where it soon came to the attention of the Japanese commander leading the occupation there, General Kiyotake Kawaguchi.

The General had learned that several court justices and other local officials had been summarily executed by The Kempeitai, and at the urging and direction of Colonel Tsuji. He vigorously protested, calling the acts nothing more than barbaric revenge killings, and saying they were beneath the lofty heights of Bushido, the warrior’s code. Tsuji did not appreciate this opposition from a rank and file General in the Army, and resolved to exact a little more revenge against Kawaguchi.

Having become somewhat influential after his successes in Malaya and elsewhere, Tsuji maneuvered behind the scenes to get Kawaguchi’s 35th Brigade transferred to the most dangerous fronts of the war, hoping that he might then regret his remarks, or even be killed in action. It so happened that the battle underway in the Fiji Group was now the center of the hot fire of the war, and sure enough, Tsuji used his influence to see that Kawaguchi’s Brigade was placed into the 17th Army Reserve, and suggested it be sent to relieve the now badly depleted Sakaguchi Brigade on Viti Levu.

Since the 48th Division was already earmarked for deployment to Fiji, Kawaguchi’s Detachment would go to Noumea to reinforce the Ichiki Detachment there instead. As such, it became a desirable reserve in theater, close at hand and light enough to be lifted on fast destroyers. Tsuji’s revenge would soon see the unit arrive at a critical time in the battle for Viti Levu.

General Kawaguchi did not know he was being set up by Tsuji at all. In fact, he looked forward to any opportunity to get his men into battle, much preferring that to any assignment in a backwaters reserve position on New Caledonia. His brigade had stormed through Borneo, taking Kuching, Pontiak, Tarakan and other vital bases. Then he went to Cebu and Davao in the Philippines where he ran afoul of Colonel Tsuji. Heedless of his enemy’s plan, the General gleefully packed away his dress whites in a trunk to wear as he accepted the American surrender on Viti Levu—at least that was how he saw things happening in his own mind when he got the orders to assemble his troops at Noumea Harbor.

There were the cruisers Haguro and Myoko, with destroyers Ushio, Akebono, Ariake, Yugure, Shigure and Shiratsuyu, all waiting to take his men on a fast ride east through the night. He breathed in the night air, his eyes watching the clouds above as they chased the moon, confident he would soon prevail.

Confidence is one good quality in an officer during war, but when it ripened too much to overconfidence, it became a dangerous thing. That ripening was not so dangerous in a man like Kawaguchi, but it was becoming fatal in the mind of General Imamura, the overall commander directing these movements. He was now sending what amounted to the last strategic reserve the Japanese Army had in the entire South Pacific, and to a place where the merits of such a deployment were questionable, to say the least. Yet Imamura had a reason for being so generous with his thinning troop reserve. It was one he would hold close for a time, and one that would soon change the entire course of the war, or so he believed.

The only thing that mattered on Viti Levu were those airfields—not the town of Tavua, or the little harbor at Nandi Bay, nor even the gold mine. When the order to send Kawaguchi came in, the fields at Tavua and M’ba had already been rendered useless. Now there was only the main field at Nandi, about ten Kilometers north of the new front line in the south. If Patch could gain just a few more kilometers, he would have that field under his guns, and the whole reason for all these deployments would be rendered null and void.

Yet all Imamura could see was the hope that, with this new reinforcement, the situation might still be reversed. For his part, Kawaguchi had every reason to feel he would soon wear those dress whites. His honor demanded no less. The “Brigade” he commanded was really no more than a reinforced regiment, the 122nd under Colonel Oka, augmented by the Kuma Battalion from the 4th Infantry Division. It was still a strong force, and would soon become a most welcome reinforcement for the defenders on Viti Levu.

In another retelling of these events. Kawaguchi had been fated to tangle with the US Marines, and by a twist in fate’s contorted rope, that was exactly what was going to happen here again.

Chapter 11

Sugar had been a cash crop in the Fiji Islands for generations, ever since the British brought indentured laborers from India to work the plantations and sugar cane fields. On the main island of Viti Levu, there were now large crushing mills at RakiRaki in the north, at Suva, and the big mill at M’ba on the river. Small mills, up to 34 at one time, dotted the island as the center of many plantations. The Rarawai mill at M’ba had been established in 1886 by the Australian Colonial Sugar Refining Company. Over the years it had grown considerably, a complex of many buildings, some stone, others tin sided with wood beam frames. The place was sited right on the east bank of the river, just south of the town, and right between the major road bridge a kilometer north, and the rail bridge 500 meters to the south. It was therefore a strategic position of great importance, and Colonel Shoji saw that immediately.

The threat the Marines now posed to M’ba produced a violent histamine reaction through the Japanese defense structure. There had been several battalions of the Yokosuka SNLF guarding the landing sites, and they were all relieved by construction troops and rushed to the town. Now, the addition of Kawaguchi’s forces and the retreat of the Ito and Tanaka Regiments would produce a massing of ground power near that vital town. Edson, Carlson and the 2nd Marines were going to have a good deal of very unhappy company soon. Their long mountain trek and end around maneuver was soon going to become the main front of action in that segment of the island, and that Sugar Mill was going to stand like a factory of Volgograd, the scene of an intense battle yet to come.

The situation facing the Marines went from the jubilation of a surprise attack, the daring of that night raid, to the growing concern that they were now up against much more than they bargained for. The arrival of Kawaguchi’s troops was a turning point. The advance on M’ba by the 2nd Marine Regiment was halted, and seeing greater numbers of enemy troops arriving on the scene, they wisely fell back to the southern edge of that field. Kawaguchi quickly occupied the Sugar Mill on the river and set up his headquarters there. He then deployed his men forward, reoccupying M’ba field in the wake of the US withdrawal.

Even though his 228th and 229th Regiments were withdrawing west and south from the Tavua area, General Tadayoshi Sano now turned his attention to the threat posed by the Marine Raiders on his south flank, west of the M’ba river that bisected his position. He could not allow that flank to be turned, which would cut off the bulk of his forces still east of the river. It would begin on that far left flank, where the Yokosuka SNLF battalions had been combined into a special brigade under the overall direction of Admiral Gunichi Mikawa. Whenever the Kido Butai withdrew to fleet ports to replenish or regroup, it was Mikawa’s responsibility to organize the naval support runs out to Fiji.

The Admiral had already been chastened by Combined Fleet Chief of Staff Ugaki when several cruisers were damaged in an attempted bombardment of Suva earlier. Now he had the difficult job of holding up the Navy’s honor in the land battle as well. He looked for a suitable officer with ground combat experience, and selected Commander Minoru Yano to take the Combined Yokosuka Brigade under his wing.

Now these troops were massed west of the M’ba river, their lines extending as additional companies arrived from their former guard assignments on the coast. Yano wasted no time organizing a major attack on the morning of January 14th. His intention was to either destroy or drive off the two Marine Raider Battalions west of the river, and secure that flank.

Carlson had thought his left flank was well protected by the imposing rise of a thickly wooded hill dubbed Koronviria, but the Japanese Marines would prove him wrong. All that day, they had scaled the far side of the hill, getting into position after dark and resting. Now they were ordered to make a night attack, with 4th Yokosuka on the extreme flank charged with swinging widely around the presumed enemy line to outflank it, while 3rd Battalion made a direct attack on the forward companies of Carson’s line that had just put an end to Kenji Tokawa behind that machinegun.

The enemy moved like shadows through the sodden underduff of the forest, coming upon the lines of 3rd and 4th Companies like phantoms. Gunfire erupted all along the line, but Carlson’s men had been thinking they were turning the enemy flank, and were now surprised at the strength of the attack on their left. The Japanese Marines swept down the eastern flanks of that hill like a dark wind, and as rifle fire erupted well behind his left shoulder, Carlson realized what was happening.

“Christ almighty,” he said to his radio man. “The bastards worked their way around our left. Get on the radio and see if Edson can throw some mortar fire onto that hill!”

He could hear the battle intensifying, then saw his men rushing back from their forward positions in groups of three and five. It was clear that the enemy had pushed them to retreat, and his jaw tightened. Carlson blew his whistle, shouting at the men to come his way.

Up ahead, he saw something he would never forget, big Ed Thompson, all of six foot four and muscle top to bottom. He had exhausted his ammo, and was standing at the edge of his slit trench swinging his rifle like a club as a wave of Japanese infantry swept over the line. Carlson saw the big man bat down three enemy soldiers, then a fourth stuck him with a bayonet in the gut. Thompson doubled over, then lunged at his assailant, taking the enemy by the throat and literally lifting him off the ground. He would choke that man to death before three more Japanese Marines stormed up, one putting a bullet into Thomson, the other two using their bayonets. But that big Marine had killed three enemy soldiers as they charged, and four more before they took Thompson down.

Somehow, seeing that man fight and fall like that steeled Carlson.

“Form up here to my front!” he yelled, and the Marines rushed into the tree line where he had set up his battalion CP, lying prone on the wet ground. Then a lot of gunfire erupted off to the right, and Carlson knew that the enemy was hitting Edson’s battalion as well.

Commander Yano had much more force than the Marines realized, enough to overwhelm that left flank and send Carlson’s men back in some disarray. At the village of Solo, there was now a bitter fight underway to control that foot bridge that crossed the river at the edge of M’ba field. Then, on the far side of the river, artillery fire began to come in on the positions of Colonel David Shoup’s 2nd Marine Regiment, heralding yet another attack.

The Kawaguchi Detachment had arrived in force, and now it charged across that airfield, weathering the MG fire from the Marines as the men howled. They were known as a shock regiment, the troops trained to make this all-out attack, bayonets fixed and wailing like banshees as they came. The Marine lines were not fully prepared to meet them, the men only able to dig out shallow depressions in the field, with no wire, no mines, and no artillery behind them. Even the few mortar teams they had were still struggling over the river and trying to get set up when the night charge came.

Shoup’s men were shocked indeed. One minute they had been making what they thought was a perfect flank attack on the enemy, the next they seemed to be tangling with an entirely new force, at regimental strength, that seemed to coalesce out of the mist itself and take on the terrible shape of this ferocious bayonet charge. Many of the companies were already low on ammo, but they held their ground, firing until they ran dry and then going hand to hand as the enemy reached their slit trenches at the far end of the field.

Now the bolo knives were out, slashing like cruel machetes at the oncoming enemy. The Marines had more muscle and brawn than their enemy, and where it did come to close hand to hand combat, they generally held the line. The mortars of 1st Heavy Weapons Company finally got set up and put their four-duce mortars into action, which helped to slow the enemy attack.

Major Ruud’s III Battalion took the full brunt of the enemy attack, which penetrated all the way to his CP, the men of his HQ fitfully firing their Tommy Guns as the enemy charged. Major Crowe’s II Battalion on his left was also hit hard and pushed back. Only Hays stood firm with I Battalion, but he was posted on the far right, beyond the low rise of Navoli Hill that overlooked the field to the east, and Kawaguchi had not attacked in that sector.

The night charge had been perfectly timed with the attack by Yano’s SNLF troops. Unlike the disastrous charge made by 5th Division in the battle for Singapore, this attack was entirely successful, driving the enemy from the edge of the airfield.

Just across the river to the west. The 5th Yokosuka SNLF had finally pushed Edson’s men out of Solo, commanding that foot bridge, which the Marines blew up with a bundle of three grenades before they yielded the ground. It was now clear that the enemy had much more strength than anyone anticipated. It was no longer a question of attacking M’ba to try and turn this flank.

Now Colonel Hall knew he had no recourse but to fall back and try to rally his men near the ford they had crossed that day when they first advanced on the airfield. While that facility was empty of enemy planes, and useless as the offensive threat it represented for the Japanese, it was a point of honor. General Sano would not have it reported that he had lost both Tavua and M’ba in the same week. He had decided his division would now fight here, and to the last man.

Back on the low hill that overlooked Solo, Edson saw that his own position was equally compromised when Carlson’s end around had been checked and then flanked by the surprising strength of the SNLF counterattack. He gave the order to withdraw, getting Carlson on the radio to tell him he needed to get his men back fast.

“We can’t hold,” he said. “Fall back on my CP.”

One by one, the rifle companies pulled out, some firing the last of their ammo to cover that withdrawal. Carson reached Edson’s position an hour later.

“2nd Marine is in trouble,” said Edson. “They got hit with a tsunami east of the river. “The Japs came right across the airfield and damn near overran two of his battalions. The Kiwis are up on Nasiva Creek, so he’s pulled his men out there to shore up the line near the airfield. This attack is over. They’ve got the ball and we’re on defense now until Collins can get down here from Tavua with the 25th. His lead elements are only six or seven klicks away, or so he tells me. They plan on making a big push tomorrow morning.”

“Nice of them to help out,” said Carlson with an edge to his tone. “Will they be doing that before or after breakfast?”

“It’ll take them time,” said Edson. “Look at the map. They’ll have to clear that big peninsula west of Tavua Bay. Japs could have anything up there towards Yanutha Point. In the meantime, he tells me he can get two regiments in position to make a push on M’ba tomorrow, but that won’t likely get underway until afternoon. They’ll have to get sorted out after moving up tonight, get their artillery set up, and you know they won’t do that until daylight when they can scour out the enemy positions. Hell, they might not attack at all tomorrow, so we’ve got to consider what to do here.”

“You ain’t thinking of surrendering now, are you?”

Edson knew that Carlson was just jabbing him for the grief he had given him earlier about the Makin Island raid. But when he thought about it, the situation they were facing now was equally dire. They could only carry so much ammo with them, and this whole operation was supposed to have been a diversionary attack to make the enemy think they had been flanked. Collins was late because half of Sano’s 128th Regiment had simply refused to yield their position on hill 1000 overlooking Tavua.

It had taken four days hard fighting to take that hill, and the enemy there had fought to the last man. It had seemed that even their dead would fight on, for wounded Japanese soldiers would lie still for an hour, surrounded by their fallen comrades, then suddenly seem to come alive again to fire at any unsuspecting soldier unlucky enough to wander by. That set Collins men to work going over the dead with their bayonets. None were left alive.

Now Collins had his 34th Regiment on the main road moving west from Tavua. To their left the 145th Regiment of 37th Division was on the line, and the southern flank of his advance was his 35th Regiment. His 27th Regiment was worn out after taking Hill 1000, and he was resting those men at Tavua, thinking he would use those troops to clear the peninsula west of the bay that Edson had mentioned to Carlson.

There were two other tracks that led from the Tavua Valley over a series of intervening hills to the M’ba River sector. One led from the Gold Mine at Vatukoula to Nasiva Creek, where the Kiwi Commandos were holding on the extreme flank of 2nd Marine Regiment. By dawn the first companies of the 35th Regiment were wending their way down that highland trail into the lower cultivated plain that led down to M’ba, but they were tired and needing rest. Edson was correct in his assessment that Collins would not attack at all that next day, and the Marines were still on their own.

As for General Sano, he had seen most of his 128th Regiment destroyed in the battle to hold Hill 1000 and Tavua. Yet that had enabled him to get his 129th Regiment back to M’ba, and they were now assembling in the heavy cultivated plantations just east of the river. His situation was precarious now. All the objectives the enemy wanted were east of the river, the airfield and the town itself. The river was a thousand feet wide with the recent rains, fairly deep, and there were just two bridges under his control.

He considered what to do. If he fought to defend the settlement and airfield, his men might be forced to swim over that river if things went against them. The terrain here was not nearly as good as the positions he had held east of Tavua, yet the enemy had pushed them all the way here. The 129th was worn out, and he knew the best thing would be to get them over that river, which would present a formidable obstacle to any further enemy advance. He had already given orders to move all artillery and heavy weapons west of the river, but the battle for that airfield had seemed the heart of his charge here.

He went to the Sugar Mill, looking to find Colonel Kawaguchi. “Your men have fought well,” he said, “but I must now ask you to redeploy west of the river.”

“What? And give the enemy back this airfield? We just took it from their Marines, and at considerable cost.”

“True, but in reality, the field is useless. It means nothing now. Tomorrow it will be under the enemy guns from the east, and in any case, we have no planes there. The river presents us with a much better defense. We must move west, and then I think this enemy attack must fail for good.”

“This is shameful,” said Kawaguchi. “You speak of defense? We should attack, as my regiment did, and annihilate the enemy.”

“That would not be wise,” said Sano. “I assure you, there is no dishonor in this.,” he admonished. “Look here,” he opened his field map. “The SNLF have pushed the enemy away from this foot bridge. I want your men to cross there, hold it, and defend the west bank of the river as far north as this position. The main rail bridge and this sugar mill must then be held at all cost.”

“Then they will have the airfield.”

“That means nothing. We will have it under our guns as well, and not a single enemy plane will ever land there.”

Kawaguchi would do as Sano requested, though he was very disgruntled about it. His men had fought hard, made a brave charge and prevailed. Now, to simply hand the enemy back the airfield they had overrun, seemed a terrible waste of both blood and honor.

For his part, Sano would now order his 129th, and anything left of the 128th, over the main road bridge at M’ba. If anyone questioned him about the loss of the airfield, he would blame it on Kawaguchi, and deny he ever gave him orders to withdraw. Honor and face had many guardians, and deception and duplicity would serve as well as bravery and resolution.

Chapter 12

When Collins and his 25th Tropic Lightning finally did advance, they would find the plantations and fields east of M’ba undefended, the ground eerily quiet and still as the men cautiously probed forward, their eyes on every tree to look out for enemy snipers. He would take the town without a fight, and the airfield with no further casualties. Then he sat in his CP looking at the map and noting the twisting course of that river. He had hoped that the Marines might have compelled the Japanese to give up that river line and withdraw towards Latouka, but it hadn’t happened that way.

These bastards are going to hold on that river, he thought. And it’s going to be hell getting them to move. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Now I’ll have to swing the entire 35th Regiment down to link up with the Marines. There’s just no way in hell we’ll get over that river if the Japs fight like they did at Hill 1000…. No way in hell.

To prosecute this attack further, he knew he was going to have to enfilade the enemy positions. The river ran north all the way to the coast, wider and more swollen with rain as it went. The water was muddy brown now with all the runoff from yesterday’s storm, and a muggy heat settled over the whole scene. Collins looked over the daily report from Patch and his Pacifica Division, seeing that he had pushed all the way to Nandi, but that the enemy had dug in his heels there too.

“Now how do we get around this enemy defense,” he said to the Regimental COs. “We can’t flank ‘em on our right. There’s nothing but miles of mangrove swamp up there and the river is at its widest. The Marines are on the left, and they damn near got overrun last night. They need ammo, and both the Raider Battalions got roughed up pretty bad. Since they still hold that ground, that’s the only thing to do. This high ground here, Mount Koronvira, was where Carlson and Edson were last night. The Japs pushed them all the way back to these streams feeding into the river bend.”

The 35th Regiment under Col. Robert McClure was closest to the Marines that day. “What about here,” he pointed to the map. “That looks like a saddle of passable terrain between Koronvira and this other high ground,” he said.

That other high ground was the rugged range leading up to Mount Evans, over 3800 feet high. It shielded Vitongo Bay and the port of Latouka from any advance from the east, but that saddle of lower ground between the two mountainous areas looked like it could be used.

“Carlson says their SNLF troops are posted there. Those are some of the best men they have.”

“Which is why they’re holding that ground,” said McClure. “Why don’t I take the 35th down there and relieve those Marines?”

“That’s just what I was about to order,” said Collins. “Look, the recon elements and engineers can screen off M’ba. I don’t think the Japs will be crossing that river again. So I want to move everything we have along the line of the Nasiva Creek and get into a position to push through that saddle.”

“What about the Marines?”

“They had a long hike over the interior high country to get where they are now. I’ll rest them behind the river for a few days.”

At that moment, Lieutenant Colonel Dixon Goen of the 2nd Marine Regiment tramped in, a scowl on his face. He was the Regimental XO, as Shoup was down with a shrapnel wound. “You army boys have enough to eat this morning?” he said gruffly. “Cause my men haven’t eaten for two days.”

“Easy does it,” said Collins. “We were just looking over our options on your flank.”

“Options? There’s only one play you can run, and that’s right through the ground we’re holding now. But we won’t have it long if we don’t get some goddamned food and ammo.”

“Look Dix, it’s coming,” said Collins. “McClure is moving your way right now. His 35th Regiment will relieve you. When he does, I want you to look over the map for any possible landing site we could hit from the sea. There’s a boat launch on Tavua Bay, and a small pier up here on this peninsula. We could use those to get some good men seaward and hit ‘em where they ain’t.”

“You want my men to mount up for an amphibious operation now?”

“Isn’t that what you Sea Dogs do for a living?”

“Sure, when we’re not busy humping the high country and taking on the whole goddamn Japanese Army.”

“Colonel, you have a wonderful gift for exaggeration. I burned out the 27th Regiment trying to take one stinking hill at Tavua. Now, we’ve pushed the Japs your way, and yes, they bunched up and double teamed you, but your mission paid good dividends. They gave up M’ba last night.”

“We saw them pullout,” said Goen. “Alright, I’m tired, and blowing off some steam. I know you had it as tough as we did, but there was no arty behind us, and no supply trucks. We were supposed to make a diversionary attack, and had three days’ ammo with us. It’s been five days of hard fighting now, and we’re damn near empty. General, if you want my men for an end around, we’ll be happy to oblige. But we’ll need some chow and sleep before we hit the boats.”

“You’ll get it. You’ve done all we asked of you down there, and a damn good job.”

“What about Carlson and Edson? They’re still hanging on the flank.”

“I’ve got the Kiwis to send down and replace them, so pull them back as well. We’ll find APDs somewhere to move them. Hell, Carlson used a submarine at Makin.”

“Seems to me you think you’re going to be looking at a logjam if you try to turn the flank of that river defense.”

“Dix, you could be right on that again, and that’s where you and your boys get to shine. Terror from the sea.” Collins stuck a big fat cigar in his mouth and smiled.

General Harukichi Hyakutake seated himself at 17th Army Headquarters, Rabaul, his eyes lost in troubled thought behind the round wire framed eyeglasses he wore. An older man of 55 years, Hyakutake was from a distinguished military family. Both of his older brothers were wizened Admirals in the Imperial Japanese Navy, but his path had taken him to the Army, where he graduated from the Army Academy in 1909. Strangely, one of his classmates was the now famous Chinese leader Chiang Kai-shek, a man he would one day oppose in combat while serving in the Kwantung Army in Manchuko.

An expert in Cryptanalysis, he was prominently involved in the Army Signals School, and now he stared at the coded message he had received, summoning him to this secret meeting with his commanding officer, General Hitoshi Imamura. The words inscribed on the message were plain enough in meaning: Shattered Gem, yet the final character indicated the phrase was a question, and not a definitive statement. Now Hyakutake sat before Imamura, the two men meeting to discuss the course of the ill-fated Operation FS.

“Well?” said Imamura, with just the hint of accusation in his voice, and an equal measure of impatience. “What of the planned counteroffensive against the Americans on Viti Levu?”

Hyakutake, hesitated briefly, a subtlety that indicated his displeasure, with a shade of regret. “It has been less than satisfactory,” he said, with understatement being the preferred manner one would use to disclose a setback or failure of any kind. “Tavua is now in enemy hands, and Sano had to redeploy west of the M’ba River. Yet he now believes he can hold that line against any further enemy advance.

“Interesting that such a redeployment would be part of a planned offensive,” said Imamura. “What of Nandi?”

“General Tsuchihashi still controls the town, harbor, and airfield there.”

“But he has not advanced on Suva as planned?”

“At the moment, that appears to be impossible. The enemy has been reinforced.”

Imamura offered a thin smile. “Very well, General, you and I can drop this pretense that there will ever be a satisfactory offensive that reaches the enemy base at Suva, and delivers that island to our control. And yet, we have committed so many troops to this operation that we now find ourselves in a most unsatisfactory position throughout this entire theater. It was necessary to recall the 20th Reserve Division from Korea, simply to provide troops for garrison duty on the other islands we now control. My question is this, and it was one that was recently put to me by the Navy, by Admiral Yamamoto himself, in fact. Are we overextended? Is it wise for us to continue to utilize our best divisions in the Fiji Group?”

After a brief moment’s deliberation, Hyakutake made a most unexpected admission. Imamura had thought he would continue to put on the brave face, for honor’s sake, and recommend an intransigent defense on Fiji, to the last man if need be. Honor might demand this, but wisdom would flee from such a decision. The General cleared his throat and spoke, with uncharacteristic frankness.

“It is interesting that I should be summoned here with the two words inscribed on this message,” he began. “And I do not fail to notice the interrogative applied to this code. If I am being asked to decide whether or not to spend the forces I now command in a foolish and desperate attack, or even a protracted defense of Fiji, my answer is no. That operation is already a gem that has been shattered, but in this case, I believe it would be better that this tile remains whole.”

“Then you see no prospect for victory there?”

“I do not—at least not with the forces I presently command.”

“Yet you were just reinforced with an additional regiment. What did Kawaguchi do there after he landed, go fishing?”

“Kawaguchi’s regiment was instrumental in stabilizing the situation on the M’ba River line. Sano’s 128th Regiment was shattered defending Tavua, so now Kawaguchi’s troops merely restore the 38th Division to about 80% of normal strength. That said, we have not had any further delivery of supplies and ammunition, and I foresee that this will become a serious problem if the Navy does not address it immediately. Keeping two divisions supplied on Fiji requires an enormous logistical effort. All our birds are in one cage, and so the foxes find it easy to gather around us. If they prevail, what then?”

“This is my question exactly,” said Imamura. “Considering that we have already had to strip Borneo, Sumatra and Java bare just to provide the troops you presently command, I begin to see that we are now very vulnerable to enemy counterattack. They have removed the Marine Divisions that were first landed on Fiji, am I correct?”

“All but one brigade sized force, which we have matched with the Combined Yokosuka SNLF troops.”

Then where have those other Marine regiments gone? We believe they were sent to Pago Pago for rest and refit, but you and I both know they will not stay there long. In my opinion, we must expect that the enemy will attempt further offensive operations in the near future. They are building up strength faster than we are. Intelligence indicates they still have the equivalent of two Marine divisions at Pago Pago, and two more Army divisions in Brisbane, along with another two good Australian divisions that were withdrawn from the Middle East. If we cannot prevail now, with two of our best divisions on Fiji, what will happen when they choose to commit these additional forces against us?

“Shattered Gem,” said Hyakutake. “We will see the forces we have already committed to Fiji destroyed. Sooner or later, this will be the inevitable result. The only way it could be avoided would be for the Army to make a serious commitment to the Strike South force allotment. Yet, considering the burden imposed on us by the enormous commitment of troops and resources in China, our prospects here seem dim.”

“I must agree with you, General Hyakutake. To look at the map now would make it seem that we have won an undeniable victory in this drive south. We have the Philippines, all the Dutch East Indies, control of the entire Solomon Island sector, the New Hebrides, New Caledonia, and have come as far as Fiji. We even control Ceylon, but to do all this, the troops the Army has provided us have been spread very thin. We hold all the former Dutch colonies with but a single division, the 18th. Nishimura has sent all that remained of the 5th Division to Ceylon, retaining only his Imperial Guards Division at Singapore. The loss of the 2nd Sendai Division on Java when that volcano erupted was a major setback, and even though it is reforming in Japan, this business on Karafuto and the new Siberian front that opened near lake Baikal is most alarming.”

“Which leaves us too few divisions to even hold what we now have in hand,” said Hyakutake. “This is why leaving the bulk of our forces on Fiji is ill-advised.”

“So we are in agreement,” said Imamura. “Yet you know what will be said if I should raise this matter with Imperial General Headquarters. They will say that we have already been given the 20th Division—what more is needed? Yet that division must now be used to strengthen our position in the New Hebrides, and we must do so soon, before the enemy chooses to attack us there. Such a move on the part of the enemy would serve to saw off the long tree limb that your forces now sit upon in the Fiji Islands. We cannot permit that to happen.”

“Then there will be no other reinforcements for this theater?”

“None that I can foresee…. Unless…” Imamura leaned back, taking a deep breath. “Unless we can convince the Army that the prize we have taken in striking south outweighs any benefit that we could possibly obtain by trying to continue this futile campaign in China.”

Imamura knew that he could easily be branded a defeatist with such words, even relieved of command and sent to some forsaken position in outer Mongolia, yet he now perceived that he had found a confederate in Hyakutake, and wanted to secure his support. Now he was going to reveal something that few knew in the Army chain of command. Rumors had traveled in circles through Imperial General Headquarters, but they were nothing more than that—until now.

“General, I have learned that a proposal has been drawn up for a possible accord between our forces in China and the Kuomintang under Chaing Kai-shek. As you know, his forces were locked in an emerging civil war with Mao and his Communist front. It was only our arrival that forced the two sides into an alliance to oppose us, yet Chiang has put out peace initiatives on more than one occasion. We never saw such an accommodation to be advantageous before, but now things have changed.”

“How so?” Hyakutake was very curious about this.

“Fiji has changed things here, Ceylon in the Indian Ocean, Burma, and now both Karafuto and the new front at Lake Baikal. The fact that you and I meet here and reach the conclusion we have come to has not been lost in the minds of highly placed generals at Imperial General Headquarters. General Sugiyama wanted all this—his war in China, here in the South Pacific, and against the United States. Now he begins to see that his arms are too full. The Army cannot carry all that it has grasped, not while so many of our troops remain in China. So Now Sujiyama has come to a new appraisal of the situation.”

“That is most unusual news,” said Hyakutake, as the Army Chief of Staff, Sugiyama had been an unflagging advocate of all these campaigns. “I never thought I would hear this.”

“Nor I,” said Imamura, “but someone has been whispering in Sugiyama’s ear.”

At this Hyakutake simply raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Ivan Volkov,” said Imamura. “Did you know that man was recently granted a personal audience with the Emperor? Yes, I have that on good authority, and when he emerged from that meeting, he went directly to Imperial General Headquarters with a proposal—no, not a proposal—with an Imperial order!”

“What order?” Hyakutake leaned forward, his breath stilled as he waited.