The Fifth Division and Hill 362-A
On the left flank meanwhile, the 5th division had been undergoing a hard fight of its own. Their objective was the highest hill on the western side of Iwo Jima, Hill 362-A. “The Japanese had exploited with this formidable obstacle to the utmost. Th entire hill bristled with caves of varying sizes, many of them serving as mortar and machine gun emplacements…”[1] February 25th found its front lines in a bow shape held by the 26th and 27th Marines.[2] No offensive action was undertaken by the division that day, though they did get the satisfaction of knocking out some redeploying Japanese artillery. Henceforth, the Japanese would only try moves of this sort at night. The next day, the division resumed its attack, smashing Japanese caves, as they advanced toward Hill 362-A. Inside the 300 yards taken were two Japanese water wells, the last such available to the Japanese. The next day, the 27th of February, the advance was resumed, under intense Japanese fire. Here, a member of the 3rd battalion of the 27th marines, Gunnery Sargeant Willliam G. Walsh won a posthumous medal of honor by jumping on a grenade that fell among his men. By February 28th, the line had been straightened out. That day, three U.S. companies of the 27th marines reached the base of the hill and fought their way up the crest.
Pharmacist’s Mate First Class John Harlan Willis busily treated wounded marines despite his own shrapnel wounds. Engaged in this when hand grenades began to fall towards him, he fearlessly began to pick up the grenades and throw them back at the Japanese. He had returned eight of them to their owners, when one of the grenades, which its owner had held back for a few vital seconds, blew up in his hand, killing him at once. Willis earned his medal of honor posthumously. That night, the 28th Marines prepared to join the 5th division in its left flank advance. Japanese artillery shelled the marines that night, which was not unusual (they did this every night), but it was particularly heavy this time, and one shell hit the 5th Division ammunition dump, which “blew up with a tremendous roar, blazing fiercely for the remainder of the night. At least 20 percent of the division small arms ammunition supply was lost in the conflagration, along with large quantities of heavier ammunition.”[3] The next morning, the 1rst of March, the attack on Hill 362-A was resumed. The Americans made it to the crest, but heavy machine gun and mortar fire from Nishi ridge, the next ridge to the north, forced them to advance around the sides of the hill instead.[4] Under heavy machine gun fire and a hail of grenades, the marines were stopped cold. Corporal Tony Stein, who had won the medal of honor on D-Day was killed that day, as did three of the Iwo Jima flag raisers, and Lieutenant Colonel Chandler Johnson. The Japanese stoutly defended Hill 362-A. To burn the enemy out of their caves, the marines rolled gasoline drums down inside them and shot them to ignite the gasoline, burning and asphyxiating their hapless foe. Another tactic was to lower explosive charges into the caves on ropes, although the Japanese would sometimes cut these ropes. The Japanese held out to the last man, but by 2:00 pm, the hill was in American hands.
During the day, Generals Schmidt and Smith had a narrow escape. The ammunition ship Columbia Victory, anchored close to V Amphibious Corps headquarters, attracted the attention of Japanese shore batteries, which opened fire on it “with all the artillery they could bring to bear,” in Smith’s words. Smith, a Methodist, ascribed his narrow escape to the fact that “the age of miracles hasn’t passed.” In his words:
The first two salvos fell in rear of the ship, but close enough to wound a man on the stern. The captain put on full speed to get away, but the second salvo fell ahead of the ship. Harry and I watched with our hearts in our mouths. (At least mine was.) The enemy had bracketed the ship; would the next shells hit the target? If so, it would be curtains for us, Corps Headquarters and the beach working parties. The explosion of several thousand tons of ammunition would have devastated the lower part of the island.
But the next salvo fell astern of the ship, which had picked up speed and was out of the danger zone. I shall never forget the look on Harry’s face when those last shells dropped harmlessly in the sea, but I suppose it was the same look I gave him. It said: The age of miracles hasn’t passed, thank God.[5]
During the day, Japanese shore batteries fired on the destroyer Terry, passing near Kitano Point at the north end of the island. Terry received a 6-inch hit that inflicted extensive damage and killed eleven men and wounded 19 more. Destroyer Calhoun was hit by an 80-millimeter shell from a shore battery on the northeastern end of the island that caused extensive damage, burst the air flask on a torpedo, and wounded 16 men.[6]
The 5th Division continued its advance, fighting the Japanese on Nishi ridge. In vicious fighting that included many hand grenade duels, the ridge was finally seized. The next day, March 3rd, netted the 5th division five more medals of honor. Two men from the 26th regiment won that medal for huddling Japanese grenades and saving their comrades. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class George E. Whalen won the award for refusing to stop treating wounded marines despite the fact that he himself was wounded and persisting in his medical treatment until he collapsed. Pharmacist’s Mate Jack Williams was shot three times by Japanese snipers, yet he too refused to stop treating the wounded, until a Japanese sniper stopped him permanently. Navy corpsmen had an extremely dangerous job. The Japanese would often target them or the men they were treating. Joseph H. Alexander explains:
For a wounded marine, the hazardous period came in the first few minutes after he went down. Japanese snipers had no compunctions about picking off litter crews or corpsmen, or sometimes the wounded man himself as his buddies tried to slide him clear of the fire…[7]
The last man to receive the award this day, was William G. Harrel of the 1rst Battalion of the 28th regiment. Standing watch that night at a foxhole, Harrel was attacked by Japanese infiltrators. Harrel shot two of them with a carbine, then a Japanese grenade burst near him, nearly blowing off his left hand. Unable to use the hand, which hung by tendon threads, Harrel drew a pistol with his right hand and killed a third attacker. A Japanese now jumped into the foxhole and placed a grenade under Harrel’s chin. He threw the grenade away, but nor far enough. The blast blew his right hand completely off, and eliminated the Japanese.[8] Harrel was found the next morning lying senseless among a pile of dozen dead Japanese. He would live to receive his medal of honor.
3rd of March was quiet on the 5th Division’s front, but that night, the 26th marines eliminated a party of 100 Japanese soldiers attempting to infiltrate. On 4th of March, 5th Division was under heavy Japanese fire from entrenched positions. Flame-thrower teams and demolition charges were employed to root out the Japanese who were taking a heavy toll with machine gun and small arms fire. Air support raids were canceled because of a low cloud ceiling, and the terrain was not conducive to the use of half-tracks, the few avenues of approach for which were mined.[9] General Kuribayashi had lost most of his artillery and his tanks by this time. His available manpower was down to 3,500 men, and he had lost 65 percent of his officers. To make matters worse, he had lost communications with his defense sectors. But though without central control, the Japanese fought stubbornly on. Their small arms fire, mortars and machine guns, continued to exact a heavy toll on the marines.
That day, March 4th, was memorable for a significant event that occurred behind the lines. Aboard the command ship Auburn, a radioman picked up chatter from a plane. “Hello Gatepost, this is Nine Bakecable. We are lost. Give us a bearing.” “Hello Nine Bakecable.” The radioman replied. “Who are you?” “We are a monster short on fuel,” came the reply from the plane. “Give us instructions, please.” A quick glance at the code book assured the radioman that the plane he was conversing with was a B-29 Superfortress. This Superfortress, which had taken off from Guam was returning from a raid on Japan that morning with a leaky fuel valve. Unable to make Guam, the crew was attempting to steer the plane, Dinah Might, onto Iwo Jima. Other planes were ordered to keep out of the way as Airfield No.1 was readied for its first B-29 landing. Word soon spread over the island, and soldiers, sailors, and Seabees rushed out to see the first B-29 land on Iwo Jima. Meanwhile, the radioman was still conversing with the B-29 crew. “Look for Kita Iwo, 30 miles north of Iwo Jima.” “We see it,” replied the B-29. “Roger. Set course 167 for 28 miles.” Th radioman told them, “Do you prefer to ditch or to try to land on the strip.” “We prefer to land,” came the reply. The B-29 pilot, Lieutenant Raymond F. Malo soon spotted Iwo Jima, circled twice, and then set down on the runway; after he rolled the plane to a stop and began to taxi, Japanese mortars and artillery began shooting. Malo had landed in a war zone. It took just thirty minutes for repair crews to fix his valve, and he and his crew was soon back on their way to Guam, the first of many B-29 crews who would be forever grateful for the marine sacrifices on Iwo Jima.
On March 5th, the 5th Division rested on its arms, refraining from further offensive combat. The marines, tired from their heavy combat, needed this rest badly. The heavy casualties they were sustaining made it necessary to “send men from headquarters and weapons companies into the line as riflemen to bolster the tired and depleted units.”[10] Generals Smith and Schmidt resolved to conduct a coordinated attack the next day with all three divisions in order to punch through Kuribayashi’s final defenses.
On March 6th, the offensive was resumed, preceded by the heaviest bombardment of the battle thus far. Naval and land artillery poured 22,500 rounds of ammunition against the Japanese positions. It seemed unbelievable that the enemy could withstand such firepower, but they could. When the marines renewed the assault, the Japanese met them with a heavy fire, once again from their machine guns and mortars, which they possessed in abundant supply. Once again, the only way forward to use infantry and tank flamethrowers, incinerating the Japanese in their caves and bunkers, and then entombing them within with demolition charges. The tank flamethrowers particularly scared the Japanese who preferred to die by gunshot or explosion rather than being cooked well done. Time and time again, suicide squads were venture out from the Japanese strongholds to destroy the tanks, only to be shot to pieces by the covering forces, or burned to a crisp by the flame tank itself.[11] The casualties incurred by the marines of the 5th division were heavy, and the fighting vicious and at close quarters.
…the going never got any easier. The nature of enemy fire changed. The nature of enemy fire changed – fewer big guns and rockets, less observed fire from the highlands – but now the terrain grew uglier, deteriorating into narrow, twisted gorges wreathed in sulfur mists, lethal killing fields. Marine casualties continued to mount, but gunshot wounds began to outnumber high-explosive shrapnel hits. The persistent myth among some Marine units that Japanese troops were all near-sighted and poor marksmen ended for good at Iwo Jima. In the close quarters fighting among the badlands of northern Iwo Jima, Japanese riflemen dropped hundreds of advancing Marines with well-aimed shots to the head or chest.[12]
March 7th featured more of the same, as the advancing marines of the 27th regiment found themselves in a crossfire from Japanese machine guns. That night, the Japanese once again kept the marines on their toes with probes against their lines, as well as one main attempt at infiltration that left 25 Japanese dead on the ground after they accidentally revealed their presence by setting off flares.[13] On March 8th, E company, 2nd Battalion, 27th regiment found itself stalled by fierce Japanese resistance coming from crag and crevice in the rocky terrain. 1rst Lieutenant Jack Lummus, a former end at Baylor University in Texas, now led his men in a charge, determined to break through the Japanese resistance. A grenade felled him. Not injured seriously, he got to his feet, and running forwards, rushed an enemy gun emplacement, destroyed it, and then was then wounded by another bursting grenade which blew out his shoulder. Undaunted, Lummus pressed on, rushed a second enemy position, and killed its occupants. He now urged his men to follow him, and they did, inspired by his courage under fire, pouring through the enemy defenses. But Lummus now stepped on a landmine, and the blast blew off both his legs. On his bloody stumps, Lummus continued to stand, urging his men on. Sobbing with grief and rage, his men heeded his orders, killing all who stood in their way. By nightfall, the high ground above the sea was in American hands. Lummus died in the 5th division hospital the next day, but earned for himself a posthumous medal of honor. Private First-Class James LaBelle earned another, again posthumously, for huddling a grenade. The fighting ground on through March 9th, and March 10th, as the remaining Japanese were squeezed into a pocket one mile in size around Kitano Point, determined to fight to the last.
As he radioed Chichi Jima on the 8th: “All surviving fighting bases have sustained heavy losses, but their fighting spirits are running high and they are giving great damages to the enemy.” That day, he radioed Tokyo: “I am very sorry I have let the enemy occupy part of the Japanese territory, but I am taking comfort in giving heavy damages to the enemy. And on the 10th, he radioed: “Although the attacks of the enemy against our Northern districts are continuing day and night, our troops are still fighting bravely and holding their positions thoroughly.”[14]
Last Actions
Captain Inouye, the commander of the Naval Land Forces found himself and his 1,000 remaining men encircled in a pocket by the 4th division. A Samurai by blood, Inouye preferred to face death in a glorious banzai charge, rather than die like a rat in a trap. It certainly beat being roasted by a flamethrower. Therefore, disregarding Kuribayashi’s orders not to conduct wasteful banzai attacks, Inouye decided to launch one on March 8th. He planned to sweep through the marine lines to Mount Suribachi and replace the stars and stripes fluttering atop Mount Suribachi with the Rising Sun. An hour before midnight, Inouye led his men to attack the American lines, the portion of which chosen to attack was held by the 23rd Marines. The Japanese were armed with all manner of weapons. Some carried rifles, others grenades or demolition charges, and others were carrying sharpened stakes. Advancing toward the 2nd battalion, 28th Marines command post, the Japanese crept to within 10 yards, and then with screams and shouts, began the attack. The night was immediately lit up with flares and star shells, and able to see their foes, the marines returned fire with machine guns, small arms, mortars, and grenades. The Japanese were slaughtered, though some penetrated marine lines and close fighting continued throughout the night. Morning revealed 784 Japanese bodies, while the marines had suffered 90 killed and 257 wounded.[15]
The survivors returned to their caves to resist as they had been doing before, but with the vast majority of Inouye’s men killed, the marines found the going considerably easier then on previous days. By the 10th, the 23rd Marines had reached the coast near Tachiiwa Point.[16] The remaining Japanese on the island were now cut off and surrounded in pockets, yet they still fought on with unbending tenacity and stubbornness. The marines now set themselves to the task of rooting out these last strongholds of resistance.
On March 9th, the 3rd Division began to root out the Japanese still holding on in Cushman’s Pocket. The fighting continued for three days, with the marines employing flamethrowers and demolition charges to burn and blast the Japanese from their emplacements, a very slow but effective method of fighting. Some of the Japanese emplacements were so well concealed that the marines missed them and did not know of their presence until after they had passed, and the Japanese opened fire on them from behind. One by one, the Japanese emplacements were eliminated in this slow, grinding combat, in which Marine flame tanks were employed, and it was not until March 16th, that the 3rd Division succeeded in rooting out the last of the Japanese in the pocket.
The 4th Division was clearing out the Japanese holdouts in the Amphitheater and Turkey Knob, which had been bypassed earlier. The Japanese here, commanded by the still living General Senda fought on tenaciously. Attempts made over loudspeaker to coax Senda into surrendering failed, and the marines were forced to win the hard way against the Japanese who were firmly entrenched in their caves, pillboxes, and ravines. Tanks could not be employed in the terrain, and the task of burning and blasting the Japanese out fell to the marine infantrymen once more. Cave after cave, pillbox after pillbox, was steadily eliminated, one by one. Senda’s remaining Japanese were slowly but surely ground down. Realizing that the end was a foregone conclusion, and that the pocket could not hold out much longer, Senda and his remaining troops attempted to break out on the night of March 15 to 16, but the breakout attempt was quashed by the marines, and by that evening, all the Japanese resistance here had been quelled. General Senda’s body was never found, but he was reported to have committed suicide on March 15th.[17]
Only one more pocket of enemy resistance remained and that was an area of one square mile in size at Kitano Point. Into this pocket were crammed Kuribayashi and 1,500 troops, all he now had left. Kuribayashi had elected to make his final stand here in the 700 yard long, 200- to 500-yard-wide gorge “laced with canyons, caves, and piles of rock,”[18] which the Japanese had fortified, both above, and underground, in their usual efficient manner. From everywhere “protruded guns, mortars, and rifles…”[19] As it lay in their path, the 5th Division was tasked with eliminating this last stronghold of Japanese resistance on Iwo Jima. The 28th and 27th Marines were not in their best form. To fill the ranks of the depleted American units, artillerymen and rear-echelon troops had been put, and this lowered the combat efficiency of the regiments considerably. As one account put it:
…the men…were tired to the point of exhaustion and many of them found it difficult to remain on their feet. Few veterans of the earlier battles were left, and death had reaped a grim harvest among the men who had gone ashore on the island 22 days before. Companies were now reduced to platoon size. Most of the aggressive and experienced small unit leaders had become casualties. Gaps in the decimated ranks had been filled with replacements who lacked combat experience that would enable them to fight and survive.[20]
The advance was proceeded by an artillery bombardment, but as before it was not very effective. The attack was launched on March 11th, with the 28th Marines on the left, and the 27th on the right. The advance was tough going, the marines slowly inching their way forward. Small infantry-demolition teams advanced, “blasting their way forward as they went along.”[21] Kuribayashi reported that day that “From this morning the enemy began concentrate their shooting of warships, firing of mortars, heavy artillery, and bombing of aircraft to Northern districts.”[22] During the night, Kuribayashi tried his usual infiltration tactics, and the marine lines were harassed by Japanese throwing hand grenades. The next day, the advance resumed. The fighting was generally the same as before. The Japanese stoutly resisted the American advance from their caves, emplacements and foxholes, his rifles, machine guns, and mortars, taking their toll, and making the Americans pay for every foot of ground gained. The fighting ground on in this manner on March 13th. On that day, an American patrol very nearly captured Kuribayashi himself. An American patrol stumbled onto Kuribayashi’s headquarters cave and peered inside. The general’s orderly blew out the candles, and Kuribayashi retreated deeper into the cave. The marines then entered the cave, proceeded forward a little way, and then departed, much to the relief of Kuribayashi’s orderly.
The next day, two 5th Division Marines won the medal of honor, one by huddling a grenade, the other by taking command of a leaderless squad in spite of wounds, leading a charge which overran Japanese emplacements, and carrying three wounded comrades to safety. That day, on the 14th of March, at General Scmidt’s headquarters, the American flag was raised over the island (the one at Mount Suribachi being lowered), and in a brief ceremony, the island was declared secured. General Smith and his staff departed for Pearl Harbor. But the battle, though certainly in its last phase, was not yet over. The Japanese were nonetheless showing signs of weakening. The 27th Marines advanced 600 yards that day, supported by flame tanks and armored bulldozers. Slowly, but surely, Kuribayashi’s pocket was squeezed smaller and smaller. Kuribayashi reported: “The attack to the Northern district from this morning became much severe than before, and at about noon, one part of the enemy with 10 tanks broke through our left front line and approached to 200 meters east of the Divisional headquarters.”[23]
By the 15th, Kuribayashi’s manpower was down to 900 men, a fact which he communicated to Chichi Jima, adding “Situation is very dangerous.”[24] They could still receive Radio Tokyo, and Kuribayashi and his surviving staff members were able to hear “The Song of Iwo Jima,” broadcast to the garrison from Tokyo. This song had been composed by his own troops before the American landing. Prayers for victory were sent up by boys and girls from his hometown of Nagano, but they were in vain; it was to a false god, and the deity who was listening, the Triune God of heaven and earth, had determined that the Japanese would lose Iwo Jima. That evening, General Kuribayashi summoned Colonel Ikeda of the 145th Infantry regiment, which had virtually ceased to exist as a fighting unit. How long could he hold? Kuribayashi wanted to know. Another day, two at the very most, Colonel Ikeda replied. Kuribayashi now instructed Ikeda to burn the regimental flag so that it would not fall into the hands of the Americans, and radioed Tokyo: “I determined to go out and make banzai charges against the enemy at midnight on the 17th. Now I say goodbye to all senior and friend officers everlastingly.”[25] Realizing that the gig was up, and that his magnificent defense was nearly over, Kuribayashi was content to go out in a blaze of glory, at the head of a banzai charge. At this point, his objection to banzai charges was a moot point. However, despite his declaration to Tokyo, no banzai charge on the 17th developed.
On the 16th, the 26th marine regiment ground froward, progressing slowly over rugged ground into the teeth of heavy Japanese rifle fire. However, enemy machine gun fire had severely diminished, and the number of caves encountered were quite less, but from spider foxholes, and rocky outcrops, Japanese rifles still blazed. Though Iwo Jima was again declared secured on March 16th, fighting dragged on in the Gorge – which the Marines called “Death Valley,” for another ten days. Describing the fighting in Death Valley, one account states:
In such a place, mortars were of little help and tanks could barely move. To rout the Japanese from their positions, explosives were lowered over cliffs by rope, rockets brought up on bulldozers were hurled at hillsides, and grenades were dropped from low flying spotter planes…Death Valley was burned out, cave by cave, and pillbox by pillbox. 10,000 gallons of flamethrower oil were used every day of the operation.[26]
Kuribayashi, as we have seen was now making his headquarters in a cave, to which he had moved from a concrete domed structure as the marines closed in. Now the marines moved against that concrete structure, which on March 19th, the Japanese resistance centered. The building proved completely impervious to 75-millimeter tank shells and demolition charges. The Marines had to take the surrounding positions and directly assault the command center. Bulldozers sealed up air vents and entrances, then the marines used 8,500 pounds of explosives – four tons in five charges—to blow the command center apart in an island shaking blast.[27]
Around 17-18 March, General Kuribayashi sent his final message to Imperial General Headquarters, in which he apologized to the Emperor for his failure to hold the island.…meanwhile reduction of the pocket continued unabated. Tanks moved up to the front lines over paths cleared by the tank dozers which themselves frequently came under attack from by individuals or small groups of Japanese bent on suicide.[28]
On Chichi Jima, it was assumed that Kuribayashi had died, and therefore, it was astonishing to Major Horie to hear from him on March 21rst: “I have 400 men under my control. The enemy besieged us and at 18th and 19th, approached us by firing and flame of their tanks. Especially they are trying to approach to the entrance of our cave with explosives.” An hour later he added, “My officers and men are still fighting. The enemy’s front line is 200 to 300 meters from us, and they are attacking by tank-firing.”[29]
As they had done with General Senda, the Americans attempted to coax General Kuribayashi into surrendering. But the Japanese general was having none of it, and derisively reported “They advised us to surrender by a loud-speaker, but we only laughed at the childish trick and did not set ourselves against them.”[30]
On March 21rst, fighting was very bitter, as the Japanese stood their ground, fighting and dying where they stood. Their backs were against the sea, and there was no place to retreat to. Fighting and dying were their only option. The Japanese refused to think of surrender, and so the marines had to kill them one by one.[31] The terrain would not permit the use of flame tanks any longer, and the marines had to rely on man portable flamethrowers “until the Japanese shot the liquid out of the tanks. When his equipment was hit, one of the operators became a human torch and burned to death; another was just barely saved from suffering the same fate.”[32] But the marines ground steadily on, eliminating the Japanese in bitter fighting, moving hundreds of yards. Major Horie was informed by Kuribayashi that “We have not eaten nor drank for five days. But are fighting spirit is still running high. We are going to fight bravely till the last.”[33] Tokyo had promoted General Kuribayashi to full general on the 17th of March, and Major Horie tried his best to inform Kuribayashi of this happy fact, but was unsuccessful. Fighting dragged on as the marines burned and blasted the stubborn Japanese out of their hidey-holes and crags in the rocks. On the evening of March 23rd, as the marines inched forward with tank support, General Kuribayashi sent his final message: “All officers and men of Chichi Jima, Goodbye.”[34] By March 24th, the…
“…backbone of enemy resistance in Death Valley had been broken and the size of the pocket was down to a square of 50 by 50 yards. On the following day…exhausted marines moved down into Death Valley and completed the task of mopping up, sealing caves and squeezing the enemy into an area that was no longer defensible. Still, individual Japanese held out until 25th March, when dead tired remnants of the 26th, 27th, and 28th Marines staggered into the gorge and silenced what remained of enemy resistance.”[35]
On D+34, the gorge was declared officially secured, and fighting on Northern Iwo Jima officially came to an end. Already, the marines were disembarking, their role finished, garrison duty of Iwo Jima to be turned over to U.S. Army, whose 147th Infantry regiment, arrived on March 20th, to take over from the marines.
But “officially” was not the same as actually. Kuribayashi was still alive, and he had between 200 and 300 men with him. In the early morning hours of March 26th, Kuribayashi’s banzai attack finally occurred. Leaving their caves in northern Iwo Jima, over a trail skirting the western coast of the island, the Japanese moved to launch a full-scale attack against the marine and army units camped on the western beaches. But this banzai charge was no blind, fanatical rush with no better tactical objective then simply overwhelming the enemy by momentum; rather, it displayed Kuribayashi’s usual tactical ability. All night the Japanese moved into position to carry out their attack, which was “carried out in echelon from three directions,” and was “carefully calculated to achieve the maximum confusion and destruction.” [36] Besides such characteristically Japanese weapons such as samurai swords, they also carried American issue weapons such as M-1s, Browing Automatic Rifles, .45 pistols, and even a bazooka. Some of them were also wearing American uniforms. They fell on the tents occupied by the freshly arrived army pilots of VII Army Air Forces Fighter Command, and the 5th Pioneer Battalion of Navy Seabees. The Americans were taken totally by surprise. In the darkness, the Japanese roamed about, shooting the sleeping airmen and Seabees, or skewering them with knives and samurai swords as they slept, tossing grenades randomly about. All was total confusion in the inky blackness. The Japanese did not stop with the bivouacking Seabees and airmen, but moved on to the 38th Army Field Hospital, where they cut telephone lines, slashed tents and machine-gunned ambulances.[37]
Officers of the 5th Pioneer Battalion recovered from their confusion long enough to patch together a skirmish line of Seabees and airmen. As the din of battle raged, the skirmish line was strengthened by arriving marines and anyone could hold a weapon. The Americans counterattacked, forced the Japanese to give up their ground, and cut down the Japanese where they stood. When it was all over, four hours after it had begun, 262 dead Japanese lay on the ground, along with 53 American pilots, Seabees and marines, and some American 200 wounded. A Japanese who was wounded and taken prisoner, disclosed that General Kuribayashi had led the banzai attack, but he was not among the corpses. The general, wounded in the fray, returned to his cave, where on the night of March 26th, he turned toward his body north toward the Imperial Palace and drove his samurai sword through his own abdomen. And so perished Kuribayashi, whose body was buried in an unknown location.
That day, General Schmidt shut down his command post and departed the island. The marines work on Iwo Jima was over. The island was conquered, the Japanese were vanquished, and it remained to the army to eliminate the holdouts. General Schmidt estimated that between 100 and 300 of them remained, but that was far too low of an estimate. Japanese holdouts actually numbered well over 2,000.
The Army now set itself to that task. Prisoners and Japanese-American soldiers broadcast invitations to surrender through loudspeakers, offering food and drink to the Japanese in an attempt to catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. But the majority of the Japanese preferred death to surrender, and the Army took only 867 prisoners over the months of April and May, while using flamethrowers and demolitions to incinerate and entomb the remaining Japanese in their caves, killing some 1,602 of them. The remainder surrendered with time, until in 1951, the last two members of the Japanese garrison finally gave up. The Battle of Iwo Jima was over.
Aftermath
The battle of Iwo Jima was the bloodiest operation in Marine Corps history. The Marines and the Navy sustained 24,503 casualties. Of these, some 6,102 were killed, and 19,938 were wounded. On the Japanese side, of the garrison of 21,000 men, some 20,000 were killed, and approximately a thousand were taken prisoner. The cost was high, but in the minds of the Americans it was worth it.
For starters, those nescience raids on the Marianas from Iwo Jima stopped. No more would Japanese bombers based on Iwo Jima attack the Marianas and destroy any more of the valuable B-29s. More importantly, the Americans were furnished with an airbase from which B-29s damaged over Japan could make emergency landings. The airmen were especially grateful for Iwo Jima. Over the remaining course of the war, some 2,251 B-29s made emergency landings on the islands. In these planes flew 24,761 flight crewmen. The gratitude of the B-29 pilots was reflected in the words of one of their number, who said: “Whenever I land on this island, I thank God for the men who fought for it.” Most of these planes would have crashed into the ocean had Iwo Jima not been available as an emergency landing base, and it is certain that despite air-sea rescue, at least half of their crews would have been lost. Therefore, the capture of Iwo Jima served its purpose as an emergency airbase that saved the lives of many U.S. aircrew returning from bombing missions over Japan with crippled and damaged planes. In addition, the use of Iwo Jima as an airbase meant that B-29s could have fighter protection during their missions, which also saved many U.S. lives, and saved B-29s from loss and damage. In addition, the payload and range of the bombers was increased, by being able to arm and fuel at Iwo Jima. The monthly total of ordnance dropped on Japan would increase eleven-fold in March alone, and 80 P-51 Mustang fighters would accompany B-29s on their mission to strike the Nakajima aircraft engine plant in Tokyo on April 7th.[38]
Lessons learned in the Iwo Jima campaign would be implemented during the Okinawa campaign to follow, and the battle furnished bitter, but necessary lessons, about the nature of the fighting henceforth to follow in the Pacific War, and what the cost was likely to be should the Americans invade Japan. The high losses sustained at both Iwo Jima and Okinawa influenced the decision to drop the atomic bomb. Though the decision to drop the atomic bomb cannot be defended morally, only pragmatically, the other reasons more than justify the costly seizure of Iwo Jima, a battle which should be remembered forever in American military history. For in it, the men of the Greatest generation went through hell, and in many cases, gave their lives and limbs, to secure political freedom for their children. May we never forget their bloody sacrifice on our behalf, and we honor the faith and legacy of our fathers.
The Lesson of Iwo Jima: A Parable for Our Time
The Battle of Iwo Jima stands as a great parable for our times today. Like the Japanese on Iwo Jima, the enemies of God have burrowed and entrenched themselves deeply in the cultural institutions and foundations of Western Civilization. And they are commanded by a shrewd and crafty general whose wiles are far more dangerous than any gun or mortar of Kuribayashi’s. In their fight against the ungodly culture warring against their families and rotting the foundations of their churches and nations, Christian men face a long, hard tough battle ahead. The going will be slow, in which gains are measured in the spiritual equivalent of hundreds of yards, like for the marines on Iwo Jima. Like them, victory will only occur if Christian men are willing to sacrifice and conduct themselves with uncommon valor to the extent, that it becomes a common virtue among them, and in spite of casualties slowly and surely root out the enemy from his bunkers, caves, and underground tunnels with the spiritual equivalent of flamethrowers and demolition charges, the preaching and application of the word of the Lord, which is sharper than any two-edged sword. The time is necessary for Christian men to rise and fight the culture war before us. Rise up O Men of God!
[1] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971)
[2] Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 105
[3] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 624
[4] Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 109
[5] Holland M. Smith Coral and Brass, p. 268 https://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/Coral&Brass/CandB-13.html
[6] Samuel Eliot Morison History of United States Naval Operations in World War II (Urbana and Chicago, Illinois: Universitiy of Chicago Press, 2001) [Reprint] 14:64
[7] Colonel Joseph H. Alexander Closing In: Marines In the Seizure of Iwo Jima p. 38
[8] Keith Wheeler and the Editors of Time Life Books The Road to Tokyo [World War II Series] Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1979) p. 54
[9] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 632
[10] Ibid
[11] Colonel Joseph H. Alexander Closing In: Marines In the Seizure of Iwo Jima p. 37
[12] Ibid p. 36
[13] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 638
[14] Y. Horie Japanese Defense Plan and Battle of Iwo Jima p. 12
[15] Keith Wheeler and the Editors of Time Life Books The Road to Tokyo [World War II Series] Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1979) p. 56 and Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 131-133
[16] Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 133
[17] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) pp. 693-694
[18] Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 141
[19] Ibid
[20] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4:699
[21] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 697
[22] Y. Horie Japanese Defense Plan and Battle of Iwo Jima p. 12
[23] Ibid
[24] Ibid
[25] Y. Horie Japanese Defense Plan and Battle of Iwo Jima p. 13
[26] Keith Wheeler and the Editors of Time Life Books The Road to Tokyo [World War II Series] Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1979) p. 56 and Michael Russel Iwo Jima (New York, New York: Random House Inc, 1974) p. 57
[27] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 705
[28] Ibid p. 706
[29] Y. Horie Japanese Defense Plan and Battle of Iwo Jima p. 13
[30] Ibid
[31] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) p. 707
[32] Ibid
[33] Y. Horie Japanese Defense Plan and Battle of Iwo Jima p. 14
[34] Ibid
[35] George W. Garand and Truman R. Strobridge Western Pacific Operations History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II (Washington D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 1971) 4: 707
[36] Ibid p. 708
[37] Ibid 710
[38] Colonel Joseph H. Alexander Closing In: Marines In the Seizure of Iwo Jima p. 49