Heading for the Philippines

Two Marine Pfcs take time out for a cigarette on Peleliu Island in September, 1944.

National Archives

Heading for the Philippines (1944)

Just when it seemed the Navy and Marines had perfected the difficult art of amphibious assault against fortified islands, the Japanese abruptly junked their doctrine of perimeter defense and adopted a deadlier strategy.

Disrupt rather than oppose the landing; develop “honeycomb” protective positions well inland; avoid the wasteful banzai attacks in favor of small, stinging counterattacks; “bleed” the Americans in a costly, time-consuming battle of attrition. “Disrupt, honeycomb, and bleed” became the blueprint for Japanese tactics at Peleliu, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa – the three costliest battles of the war for the U.S. Marines.

The Marines stormed Peleliu because of an earlier promise Admiral Nimitz made to General MacArthur in the presence of President Roosevelt. It was a questionable military commitment from the onset, and changing events would render the seizure of Peleliu bloodily superfluous.

The small, wretched island, the drooping tail of the Palaus, the westernmost appendage of the far-flung Carolines, had no redeeming graces. Peleliu’s oven-hot climate was matched only by its convoluted terrain, the most ungodly scramble of coral cliffs and reeking mangrove swamps a defensive force could pray for. Defending it were some of the most proficient Japanese soldiers the Americans would face in the war.

Colonel Kunio Nakagawa commanded 10,000 Japanese troops on Peleliu, including his own infantry regiment, proud veterans of Manchurian border-fighting. Nakagawa had a supreme eye for the land. He saw immediately how suitable Peleliu would be for the new Japanese doctrine of attrition warfare.

Major General [William] Rupertus, dour but experienced, still commanded [the 1st Marine Division]. Three veteran colonels led his infantry regiments: Chesty Puller had the 1st Marines, Harold “Bucky” Harris had the 5th, and Herman “Hard Head” Hanneken, the 7th.

Most of Nakagawa’s defenders, hunkered down in their caves in the Umurbrogol [a heavily-fortified spine of steep hills running north and south], had no fear of the bombardment, but even the one battalion Nakagawa left deployed to disrupt the landing suffered little from the lightweight pounding. D-Day was September 15, 1944. As preplanned naval gunfire petered out “for lack of suitable targets,” the steel doors of the Umurbrogol rolled open and Nakagawa’s heavy artillery began raining hellish fire on the approaching waves of LVTs. Well-concealed 47mm antiboat guns opened up with enfilade fire from coral promontories on either flank. Heavy machine guns stitched the laboring craft without mercy. It was as deadly and ferocious an opposed landing as the Marines would ever face.

D-Day ended with the 1st Marine Division occupying an irregular beachhead two miles long and ranging in depth from a mile in the south to a few feet along [an island promontory called] The Point on the north.

The day had been rife with nasty surprises for General Rupertus, and the cost had been much greater than expected: 1,100 casualties, including 200 dead. Total losses were less than D-Day at either Tarawa or Saipan, and Rupertus figured the Japanese were sure to crack now that their perimeter had been so forcibly penetrated.

For all his combat experience General Rupertus could never accept the reality that the Japanese had changed tactics, that this Colonel Nakagawa intended to lay low and fight smart for the next ten weeks.

Rupertus would keep butting his head against the Umurbrogol in the misbegotten belief that the Japanese defenders would soon degenerate into their traditional self-sacrificing banzai charge, leading to the routine mopup. His three fine regiments would sequentially come to grief in the highlands the Marines quickly dubbed “Bloody Nose Ridge.”

Nothing came easy on Peleliu, but no sector was rougher than the Umurbrogol.

Here Chesty Puller led his 1st Marines in a gallant but fruitless series of frontal assaults. Even as proven a tactician as Puller could not prevail in the absence of maneuver room and in the teeth of Nakagawa’s artfully concealed, mutually supporting cross fires. The 1st Marines clawed forward, ridge by ridge, cave by cave, but sustained terrible casualties every day.

General Geiger endeavored to let Rupertus fight his own battle, but after six days he ordered in the first regiment of the Army’s 81st Division and directed Rupertus to relieve Puller’s 1st Marines.

Puller raged to stay and fight, but by now Bloody Nose Ridge had cost his regiment nearly 60 percent of its landing strength. In small groups, carrying their wounded, the survivors came down from the Umurbrogol’s bloodsoaked ridges.

“Hey, you guys the First Marines?” a correspondent shouted. “Mister, there ain’t no more First Marines,” one answered.

The 7th and 5th Marines, as well as the Army regiments, would have their own crack at the Umurbrogol, and in time they would encircle and overwhelm Nakagawa’s disciplined cave dwellers one by one.

One benefit of Nakagawa’s “honeycomb” defense in the highlands: It left the beaches and airfield relatively clear for U.S. operations. Logistic support for the Marines flowed smoothly ashore, despite the need for transfer line operations along the reef.

Meanwhile, the industrious Seabees had the airstrip ready for advance operations as early as D+3. Captain Wallace Slappey promptly flew in with the tiny “Grasshoppers” of his VMO-1 and quickly commenced aerial spotting missions for both artillery and naval gunfire.

The morale of the embattled infantrymen took another boost on September 26 when the gull-winged Corsairs of Major Robert (“Cowboy”) Stout’s VMF-114 swooped out of the sky to land on the airfield.

Cowboy Stout and his Corsair pilots brought three welcome elements to the battle: rockets, napalm, and ferocious bravado.

The rockets proved better than dive-bombing against the steep cave fronts.

Napalm, first used experimentally at Tinian, served better at Peleliu, first to burn away the vegetation hiding cave entrances and spider holes, then to roast the occupants.

Delivering all of this close support required the pilots to risk everything on low-level attacks subject to heavy ground fire.

The 1st Marine Division, despite its dreadful losses, was learning valuable lessons about coordinating supporting fires to pulverize enemy strong points.

But Nakagawa continued to rule the high country, and the meat-grinding assaults continued to exact a heavy toll. By October 15 the Old Breed had been shot up to the point that Geiger replaced them with the 81st Division.

The Army resorted to siege tactics against the Umurbrogol, but the costly battle raged on another six weeks.

The long-drawn-out victory at Peleliu cost 9,600 American casualties – 6,500 Marines, 3,100 soldiers. For all their bravery and sacrifice, the spoils of victory proved sparse.

None of the airfields in and around Peleliu provided any significant support for MacArthur’s return to the Philippines. Nor was Peleliu ever useful as a major staging base for further campaigns in the Pacific.