The 4th Marine Division began taking shape in the summer of 1943 at Camp Pendleton, California. On 24 August 1943, I joined Headquarters Company of the 1st Battalion, 23rd Regiment of the 4th Marine Division. Apparently the Company Commander 2nd Lt. Maurice Gross, had his mind set on someone taller or maybe someone with a special talent that I did not possess. Anyway three days later he sent me packing to C/1/23 where 1st Lt. Fred C. Eberhardt was Company Commander. There I was assigned to the first squad of the first platoon. My Platoon Commander was 2nd. Lt.Garfield M. Randall. I soon learned that my company commander and platoon commander were the two finest Marines I had had the pleasure to serve.

My closest friendships within the Marine Corps were the men in my platoon and squad. There was John F. Dodson, Dallas Texas. We were both riflemen with Garand M1 rifles but destined to become Browning Automatic Riflemen or BAR men for short. I called him Dodson or Tex but he soon acquired a new nickname "Horsecollar". It was Don Latsch, our company commander's driver that renamed him. Another close friend was "Ski". His real name was Edward Rajkowski and he came from Oak Lawn, Illinois. The three of use were liberty buddies. Once after having a few drinks too many had pictures taken at a sidewalk picture booth. I still have those pictures, after 56 years.

During 4 months, since I had joined the company we trained vigorously for combat. Our training and conditioning had progressed well and apparently on schedule. All the baby fat if there had been any, had burned off in boot camp and was now replaced with muscle. We had run, marched and crawled over seemingly hundreds of miles of Camp Pendleton to condition our legs and lungs. We had climbed walls, cliffs, steep hills, ropes and landing nets to develop our arms and chest muscles. We knew what it was to sleep outdoors in bone chilling weather. Our training acquainted us with jumping over and wading through ravens and creeks to enable us to cope with any elements we might have to face in combat. We had received specialized training and had acquired skills that might come in handy in the future.

Our weapons training was thorough. We had done everything with our rifles from removing protective cosmoline coating to breaking them down blindfolded and reassembled them the same way. They were kept clean and oiled and we had practiced firing them from every position. We carried them on forced marches, 25 miles one day. Did Up and On Shoulders with them daily and much more. We even slept with them inside our ponchos or used them as our pillow. They had become an extension of ourselves.

What we needed now was to experience a coordinated landing from ship to shore. With field packs, rations and assorted gear we boarded our first troop transport ship. It was the USS LaSalle. More details about her are to be covered later in my memoirs.

This is one day that I shall long remember. I am not sure of the exact date except that it was during either November or December of 1943. When the Officer of the Deck signaled that the ship was ready for boarding and Fred Eberhardt, now Captain, confirmed that "C" Company was ready, the boarding began. "C" Company Exec Officer, 1st Lt. James Tobin; Lt. Randall, Platoon Sergeants Cleveland Leonard, Art Erickson, Sgt. Robert Hauser followed our Captain. Then my squad followed. Every man and every unit was assigned to a specific area within the ship, officers in separate quarters amidship, enlisted in designated compartments below deck. As a member of the first squad, I followed closely behind Hauser and Corporal Merrill Quick through a hatchway and down a metal stairwell, called a ladder in the navy.

Editor's Note: The official USMC Muster Roll indicates the landing on San Clemente took place on January 2, 1944

Our compartment was a converted cargo hold that had been fitted with canvas bunks framed with iron piping that could be folded up when not in use. There were several rows of bunks to cover the width and length of the compartment. There were five bunks in each tier, one above the other with 18 to 21 inches between them- not enough space to sit on the bunk unless the bunk above was folded up flat. Aisles between the racks were narrow, not more than 2.5 feet wide so only a few Marines could be standing up at a time while the rest of the troops were living in their bunk. They were stacked like sardines in a can. For anyone that was claustrophobic, this must have been awesome.

Fans blowing outside air through each compartment provided the ship's air conditioning. However with so many men confined in each hold, the air conditioning was less than comfortable. Nobody said it would be easy. When we were permitted to be topside, that is where many of us went. The air on deck was fresh and invigorating and the Marines sat, stood or laid on any surface large enough to hold them. This was my first time aboard a transport ship and initially it was exciting. For many of the East Coast Marines that came to California by ship, this was nothing new.

When the time came for disembarking we were geared up and were ordered to our debarkation station. Usually 3 Marines climbed down the cargo net at a time to the awaiting landing craft hoved to with engines churning. Upon entering the craft we had to move away form the cargo net to enable the following Marines to enter the landing craft. These landing craft held 36 Marines and crew. When the last to come on board were there, lines for steadying the craft were thrown free and the coxswain guided us clear of the ship

Boat traffic along side the ship was heavy since there were several boat stations on each side of the ship with Marines descending nets to craft from the bow to the stern. Once we had safely cleared the traffic our coxswain sped us on our way to the assembly area, there to form circles of landing craft that were to make up each wave of craft that make there run for the beach in formation. The boats destined for each assembly area circled until all were accounted for and even then circling continued until such time as the order came to form our wave and commence toward our designated landing site.

During combat conditions there are often times when the landing craft cannot arrive at the assigned spot on the beach and the precise time of the landing plan. During this landing exercise the only thing to hamper landing at the site and on time were the conditions of the waves and swells encountered by the sailors manning our craft. There were no enemy shells to hamper this landing and we hit the beach properly. Ramps were dropped and we came out at a run heading into the beach for protection from mock enemy rifle and machine gun fire and dropping where there might be some protection.

When we had cleared the beach we found ourselves facing acres of knee high cactus with long sharp needles. We could neither run through nor pick our way through it as the cactus so thoroughly covered the area beyond the beach. Our advance came to a screeching halt. The thorns, up to 2 inches long, sliced right through our dungarees, leggings and our boon dockers and of course our skin. Some who had run right into it were immediately bloodied. Seems like we should have been able to cut our way through with bayonets and machetes to form several paths through that those following could follow. Had this been an actual invasion the pre-landing bombing and shelling would have decimated it entirely. However that had not happened. Now serious efforts were made to create paths as described above. I believe everyone bore evidence of cactus thorn wounds to skin or gear.

Orders were given to hold up not attempt to advance inland. Cactus fruits adorned many of the plants and now we had a chance to take advantage of them. We began harvesting the fruit for a light snack since we had encountered them previously on Pendleton and had learned how to harvest and eat cactus fruit.

We had not been on the island long when the word was passed that we were to make ready to evacuate the island ASAP because the same site that we occupied had also been chosen by the Air Force for bombing and strafing practice. That suited us just fine since we'd had enough of cactus thorns and fruit to satisfy our desires and were ready to pick our way back to the beach taking our wounded with us.

It was about this time when Dodson, after relieving himself, was seen picking his way back to our area, when Don Latsch nicknamed him as Horsecollar. The nickname stuck and years later that is how Latsch addressed John at first reunion they embraced each other. I believe it was the reunion in Las Vegas in 1989.

Back on the beach the landing craft were having a bad day. The winds, the surf and the tides had increased in volume since our landing and the boat crews were experiencing greater difficulties as the minutes passed. A few of the LCVP's had been unable to back off the beach and succeeding waves had turned them sideways on the beach. Because the situation continued to worsen Marines and equipment were rushed unto awaiting craft while the coxswains attempted to keep their crafts properly aligned with the incoming waves and backed off as soon as possible. However more and more craft were being caught by wind and waves pushing the craft farther unto the beach and at angles where they had insufficient control of their movement. In increasing numbers craft were turned crosswise on the beach. Several had turned on their side while loaded with Marines. Each succeeding wave pushed the craft further unto the beach whether they were upright or on their side. The situation was now exceedingly dangerous. Craft that had been rolled unto their side were rolled upside down with the next wave. Many Marines and sailors were injured attempting to get out of boats that were in the process of turning upside down. We heard that there were deaths but I saw none personally.

Sergeant Leonard, our Platoon Sergeant located our LCVP to be still in operating order. Before ordering us to get aboard he told us that we would try to back into the waves and get off the beach but we had to understand how very dangerous this had already been and there was a good possibility we could have the same problem. If it appeared that our LCVP were to swamp, we were not to abandon ship until he told us it was safe to do so and that would be at the moment the wave began to recede. It was also on a receding wave that we were to quickly board and toward the stern. With the weight of 30+ men aboard and toward the stern, the stern end rode lower in the water and the bow end might be light enough for the engines to back off through the surf. At the proper moment we rushed on board and the coxswain used full throttle reverse but to no avail. The next wave hit us too soon and we were driven further unto the beach and slightly to port and we were still upright. But we were landlocked and backing off became hopeless. Several wanted to jump right away but Leonard yelled, "NO! Not yet!" We stayed and almost immediately the next wave laid our craft on its port side. We fell into and on top of everyone and were scrambling to get to our feet. Then as the wave began to recede Leonard Yelled "Now! Abandon ship!" All Marines and sailors scurried out and away from the craft. The next wave rolled the LCVP onto its gunwales. All had gotten out and were safe for the time being.

Beyond the surf there were other LCVPs out where they could maneuver but none attempted to come ashore. The craft that were on the shore were in various stages of becoming land locked and bottom side up.

There were no ships in sight to help us but there were no sign of bombers either, so we were in a holding pattern. Some LCVPs had gotten off the beach but many did not. After a time maybe a half hour or so a few amtracs appeared offshore heading for the beach spouting twin tails of water as they came our rescue. This was the first many of us had heard anything about this new landing craft and did not know a few were on one or more ships involved with our landing exercise. The Amtrac was a track propelled landing craft rather than one propelled by a screw or propeller. The amtrac ran low in the water with waves breaking over their sides or the front as the vehicle rode through them. When the amtrac neared the beach and its tracks contacted the shoreline it rose up from the water like a monster and walked right up unto the beach and beyond the incoming wave action. I'd estimate the amtrac stood maybe seven feet in height with tracks like those on regular tanks. It had powerful engines and bilge pumps that could pump out the sea as fast as the waves came over its gunwales, provided the engines continued to run.

We anxiously watched as the amtracs further up the beach from us were loaded with Marines for the first rescue efforts by amtracs from San Clemente. There was no ramp on this early model of the amtrac for loading and unloading Marines. There were foot and hand holds provided in the side. When fully loaded the amtrac drove down the beach until its gunwales were among the waves and it then rode with the waves breaking over the bow through the surf. Out beyond the surf the amtrac rendezvoused with one of the available LCVPs that had not been involved with the problem on the beach. There the troops were transferred from the amtrac to the LCVP, enabling the amtrac to return to the beach for another load of troops.

Eventually an amtrac became was beached and ready for boarding by our platoon for our transportation off San Clemente. Sergeant Leonard again ordered the first platoon to board. Using the hand/foot holds we climbed aboard and moved away from the bulkhead to permit those following to enter. There was no hesitation on the part of the amtrac as it entered the water and was met by the first incoming wave, which broke over the top and drenched us. A few minutes later we were beyond the breakers but we were not home yet. Our ship was nowhere to be seen so we had to transfer to an LCVP enabling the amtrac to return to the island for another load of Marines that were still on the island. Transferring to the LCVP was relatively easy since both craft were approximately the same size.

Once inside the LCVP and free from the amtrac our coxswain proceeded to an assembly area, where joined the formation of craft circling to remain in such a pattern until the return of our ship. Several hours passed. The winds continued as did the waves and the swells. The LCVP rocked and pitched as we slide into troughs between the swells and were hit by wild waves. Eventually everyone was seasick even the sailors. The first ones to get sick attempted to vomit over the side but with the constant wind and erratic movements of our craft vomit was often blown back into the face of the sick Marine or into the boat. No one was immune to seasickness that day. The smell of diesel fumes and exhaust gases added to our misery. I was never so sick or miserable in my life than in that landing craft while awaiting the return of the LaSalle.

Late in the afternoon the ships returned. When our turn came to reboard the LaSalle, I was sick and shaking, without strength, I could barely stand. We hove to forward of the focsle on the starboard side of the ship where the ship's deck angles out several feet beyond the bulkhead at the waterline. With the swells so high the LCVPs would rise 25 or 30 feet hit the side of the ship and then fall away 25 or 30 feet between the swells which did not affect the movement of the ship as violently as they did the landing craft. As a result, the rope and chain ladder, landing nets which were our means for reboarding the ship, had become snagged unto the landing craft and snapped off at varying lengths. Those ladders were never meant to support the weight of a landing craft and they were in horrible shape. One by one or sometimes two members of the platoon would grab the ladder rung at the height of the rise of the landing craft and with feet available to help climb scamper up the ladder as the landing craft fell away. Each time the landing craft neared its high point it would smash against the side of the ship. My turn came and with my arms outstretched to grab the ladder as the landing craft smashed against the ship, I grabbed the highest rung I could. The landing craft dropped from under me and then I realized there was no ladder below my handhold, nothing into which my feet could help me climb. Having no strength in my arms to pull myself up, I just hung there for a nanosecond. I knew the landing craft would be back any second and if I didn't get up the ladder I would be crushed between the ship and the landing craft when they slammed together. Adrenaline came to my rescue giving me sufficient strength to invert my body behind the ladder (a maneuver similar to a muscle up when mounting a gymnast's high bar) as the landing craft crashed into the side of the ship just below me. Someone in the landing craft grabbed me and attempted to pull me back into the boat but I clung tight and the LCVP fell away again. Officers on deck having seen my predicament came down the netting to where they caught my pack straps and pulled. With their help I could reach the next rung and then to where my feet had something to step into and climb. Together with the help of these officers I made it to the deck where I crawled out unto it and laid face down completely exhausted. Later in the ship's sick bay I was assured the sickness would pass and with rest I'd be as good as new again.

Thus are my memories of the day we invaded and then retreated from San Clemente, California.