Paradise into Hell

The Marshalls, probably the next step on the long, coral road to Tokyo through the mid-Pacific, got some stiff but preliminary pokes last week.

Far-ranging Liberators of Major General Willis Kale's Seventh Air Force struck from runways somewhere in the Central Pacific; they may have used Tarawa's air strip. The bomb doses were small (15 to 40 tons in two of four Army raids). Resistance was light: 20 Zeros appeared over Mili atoll, tried (and failed) to slap the raiders with anti-bomber bombs dropped from above in the German manner. In smaller force, Navy patrol bombers snooped the islands. But the blow that really caught the Japs in the Marshalls with their kimonos off, was a pile-driving carrier raid.

Sting the Hornets. Under one of the Navy's crack carrier commanders, Rear Admiral Charles A. Pownall, powerful task forces plowed through the night toward atolls 500 miles north and west of the Gilberts. At least four carriers, perhaps more, readied their winged brood. At day break torpedo and dive bombers and Hellcat escorts swarmed from the flattops. Their objectives: Kwajalein and Wotje atolls, the Marshalls' strongest points.

Tensely the task ships waited for word. One hour after the takeoff it came: "Enemy taken by surprise." Kwajalein's roomy lagoon (80 miles long, 20 miles at the widest) was full of shipping: sampans, inter-island craft, seagoing merchantmen, tankers, warships. Said a U.S. pilot: "It was a dive bomber's paradise, and we turned it into a Japanese hell." The score after ten minutes of concentrated attack: two light cruisers, one oiler, three cargo transports sunk; one troop transport, three cargo transports damaged; grounded planes and shore installations hard hit.

The Hornets Sting. Before noon the planes had returned to their carriers. The task forces raced to get out of Jap range. On guard above them were their own combat planes. But the hornet's nest stirred furiously. Aboard one of the U.S. carriers was A.P.'s Eugene Burns. He reported:

"Two minutes past noon, low-flying torpedo planes came within gunfire range and dropped their torpedoes. They were shot down by our anti-aircraft batteries. One. Two. Three. All exploded and burned . . .

"As the sun was sinking our squawkbox sounded: 'Jap snooper is closing.' One cruiser opened fire with two destroyers joining. ... At 9:50 p.m. the squawkbox said: 'A group of planes is closing. They are dropping float lights. Another group is off our starboard bow, now closing.'

"Ships fired almost simultaneously and then the Jap seemed to withdraw.

"Soon the Jap organizer, who had been nicknamed Tojo, the lamplighter, dropped some flares as he circled us. Then for another three hours the planes made their runs at us and retired while Tojo kept lighting up the street lights. . . . You caught the enormity of our task force as the firing commenced again at both sides.

"As midnight approached, our skipper decided that the men below might be wanting rest. He ordered the squawkbox silenced. A man telling me about that decision next day said: 'They left us with Jap torpedo planes closing in. We waited for word and waited. The uncertainty was killing. . . ' "

Seventy-Two for Five. Again & again that night Jap planes lashed down. U.S. ships flailed back with heavy fire, zigzagged to avoid torpedoes. When the attacks ceased, after 24 hours of raid and counter-raid, the announced score stood: 72 Jap planes destroyed; five U.S. planes lost, one U.S. warship slightly damaged. (For a notable picture of one of the Jap planes going down, see cut).

Admiral Pownall's forces had still more business. From the Marshalls they headed for Nauru, the British phosphate island seized by the Japs in early 1942. There, Tarawa to Truk, the Jap Pearl Harbor, the American fleet, including battleships, shelled and bombed the enemy's airdrome and shore defenses. The score: ten Jap planes destroyed; two U.S. planes lost, one U.S. destroyer damaged by shore batteries.

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