Our assignment is to take from the enemy the island named Roi, whose whole purpose to the enemy is its airfield. This assignment has been drilled into us for days since leaving Hawaii. Today is the day we have been preparing for, the reason for the calisthenics, the reason we have to know our rifle, its every component and the need for it to be clean and properly oiled. We are green troops and this is to be our baptism of combat. Will we measure up to the tradition of the USMC?

The date is 1 February 1944. We have had our final meal aboard the LaSalle, received our rations and candy bars, water and ammunition and hand grenades. Overhead we can hear the sounds of chains being dropped and dragged across the deck, motors of wenches straining and the cables singing as the slack is tightened and the creaking and scratching of the landing craft as they are being readied for swinging over the side of the ship. All the troops are receiving final orders for leaving the compartment, on where and how we are to proceed to our debarkation station. All Marines are suited up, packs have been adjusted and inspected by fellow Marines. About half of the Marines are again in their bunks, others who will leave first are standing in the aisle can get ready. All of a sudden a rifle is discharged in our compartment. The bullet ricochets off the steel bulkhead and whistles and bangs for but a few seconds. Someone yells, " Who in the hell did that?" Someone else is yelling, " Is anyone hurt? Did anyone get hit?" Everyone is buzzing. A voice of authority yells out over the din in the compartment, "Now hear this ! You have been told NOT TO PUT A ROUND IN THE CHAMBER UNTIL YOU NEAR THE BEACH! We don't want any casualties, especially here in the hold of the ship. Clear that chamber and anyone else that has a round in the chamber - Remove it now- Carefully!" What a way to start an invasion! And we were supposed to have been trained and are now ready to join the war. No, it was not from my rifle or anyone near my bunk. Surely several knew whose rifle it was but I never learned. Preparations for debarkation continued.

Finally we got the word to move out and those Marines standing between the bunks had to make way for the next in line to get unto their feet and leave.

On deck we followed the Marine we were to follow heading to our boat station, where we lined up by squads. As soon as the officer or NCO in charge was satisfied that we were ready, word was passed to the LaSalle crewman in charge of loading the landing craft, which was hoved to in the water at the end of the cargo net. We had practiced going over the side and down rope and chain nets with our gear previously but this was for real and rifle butts have a mind of their own even when you thought you had it properly stowed. There were no mishaps among our squad members getting into the LCVP even though the landing craft was rising with each wave and swell at a different tempo than the rhythmic movements of the LaSalle. When the last Marine came aboard, the lines were tossed and we pulled away. We were on our way to the assemble area there to join the circling craft that were there and to be joined by several other landing craft and continue circling. Now we had a chance to see the islands as they continued to be bombed and strafed followed by shelling by the Navy. Black bursts could be seen and smoke was rising from both Roi and Namur. Less than 3 months before the 2nd Division had landed on Tarawa. The bombing and shelling of Tarawa had not been sufficient and the casualties were much greater there than had been anticipated. Because of that, we were told the bombing and shelling of our targeted islands would be more devastating. And it sure seemed to be.

Our LCVP carried, among others, the first squad's Sergeant Robert Hauser, Corporal Merrill Quick, my fire group leader, Karl Kennedy the BAR of my Fire Group and myself, the Assistant BAR. Other Marines from the first squad were Robert Higley, Tony Fusco, Dan Pedroza, Raymond Ramon, John Dodson, and Ray Parnitzke. The platoon was split up between 2 or 3 landing craft. Other members of the first platoon who may or may not have been in the LCVP that I was, were Lt. Garfield Randall, Platoon Leader; Pltn Sgt. Cleveland Leonard; Asst Pltn Sgt. Art Erickson; Edw Rajkowski and Cpl Sam Utley. Some names escape me at this time. Perhaps I might get some help from still surviving members who chance upon reading this.

The Wave Master or whoever controlled the crafts making up each wave finally signaled for our departure from the assembly area and aligned the crafts in waves heading toward the landing sites. Our sector was Beach Red 2, on the left flank or SW corner of Roi Island. At this date I do not know which wave we were to land with.

Initially everyone wanted to watch the islands as we made our approach from over 2 miles away. As we neared the shore we were ordered to keep down to avoid getting wounded should the enemy start shelling the incoming craft. About that time we were told to lock and load our rifles. As I recall we landed unopposed. We saw very little until the craft ran aground and the ramp came down.. Then all we could see at first was a sandy beach with a rise of 5 or 6 feet behind which we took shelter. Peering over the military crest we saw no enemy soldiers and heard only gun fire from the island of Namur and shelling of the north end of the islands continued by ships of our Navy. As soon as our officers were satisfied that we were ready to move out by squads and fire groups we dashed over the rise, proceeded for a short way and hit the ground ready to respond to any enemy activity. There was none so we got to our feet and were ordered to advance with caution. To our left front were the ruins of several concrete gun emplacements and a concrete block house, about 20 feet on each side and one story high. It appeared to be in tact. All that was left of the once picturesque concrete runway on Roi was now pock marked with bomb craters and huge chunks of broken concrete. In the distance on both left and right could be seen remnants of Japanese aircraft that had been destroyed from bombing by our air forces and shelling from our ships. Far on the right or East side of Roi were the remains of concrete administrative buildings and corrugated steel hangers. All were in shambles. The scene was reminiscent of one huge dump where parts of buildings and planes had been discarded after a tornado or hurricane had passed through and laid waste to everything in its path. It's hard too imagine anything or any human could have lived through such devastation.

We carefully picked our way over and around the debris and concrete chunks, working our way towards the closest remains of a permanent antiaircraft gun emplacement. From all appearances it had been a twin German 88 mm gun pit. It had been turned into scrap metal by several direct hits of heavy explosives. The barrels of the guns were twisted and deformed apparently from extreme heat caused by the bombs or shells that had knocked it out of action. There were no bodies of the defenders who had manned these guns in the pit or anywhere near.

Approximately fifty feet north of the antiaircraft emplacement was the block house which might have been the secure area for the ammunition for the antiaircraft guns. Still no sign of life in the immediate area. We proceeded toward the block house expecting at any second for all hell to break out but nothing. Sizing up the block house, there were no windows or gun ports and no trenches or fox holes intended for the defense of the block house or the gun pits. Foolishly we approached the steel door and lifted the latch. The door easily moved and Karl and I peered inside to see what was there. We were shocked to see bodies of dead Japanese soldiers piled 5 and 6 feet deep inside this block house. That might explain where the gun crews and defenders were that failed to oppose us on the beach. Time had not permitted their proper burial and they were placed there for proper burial after our invasion had been repulsed. However having no idea whether any were alive and playing possum, we quickly closed and secured the latch. My memory does not recall the smell of dead and decaying which was so evident at later times. This sight was the cause of many nightmares and what might have been our demise, had the door been booby trapped. It was a good lesson for a green inexperienced Marine. I had lucked out this time and thanked God that it stored bodies and was not a huge bomb.

We pressed on over the debris, still unopposed until ordered to hold up. Then we sat down to wait for further orders. Off the NW corner of the island laid the partially submerged rusted remains of a barge or tug boat maybe 100 feet off shore. It became evident that Japanese soldiers had sought this wreck for protection and a place from which to fire upon us until reinforcements might come to their help. As they opened up with small arms fire we saw more soldiers possibly 8 or 10, chest deep in the water off the north shore wading towards the wreck, apparently along a sand bar, holding their weapons above their heads. These were the first live enemy we encountered. There began an exchange of small arms fire. A machine gun crew began working over the defenders on the wreck. No report was heard of any Marine casualty caused by the defenders of the wreck. Enemy soldiers on the wreck seemed to be supplied from an unknown source. Like ducks in a shooting gallery at the fair when one was shot down another would pop up. The supply of soldiers was not great but seemed endless at least for a time. Then a few enemy soldiers appeared to our front and occasionally to our rear. There was no organized resistance just individual Japanese soldiers who were possibly still dazed from the bombardment. They appeared from either craters in the runways or hidden entrances to tunnels below the destroyed airfield and were readily dealt with.

While awaiting the word to continue our advance to the north end of Roi a horrendous explosion occurred on Namur. The ground heaved and shook on both islands from the tremendous force of the concussion and a huge black cloud rose above the trees on Namur. Shortly thereafter the naval shelling ceased and word finally came down to resume our advance to press on and take the island.

As we approached the northern edge of the airfield, I kept searching for a live target. Then I saw an enemy soldier partially exposed from under a sheet of corrugated steel roofing. By the time I saw him, had he been alive he could have shot but he didn't. I got to him before anyone else and flipped the steel off from the body. He may have been killed by concussion or from the flying steel that covered him. In his outstretched right hand was a Nambu machine pistol. I quickly picked up the pistol and 37 rounds of ammunition he had laying there. Someone grabbed the holster that laid beside him. Later I would barter with another souvenir for that or a similar holster. As we moved out we came to a wide trench that stretched along the North shore of the island. The trench had been dug to defend from an invasion from the North. Our attack had been from the South from inside the lagoon. This trench held hundreds of dead enemy soldiers that had taken their own lives. Many had shot themselves through their mouths and through the tops of their heads. Others had used grenades held to their bodies. This was more gruesome than the pile of bodies in the block house.

All day long fighting could be heard from Namur. There was a constant din of small arms and machine guns along with reports of cannons and explosions from grenades, howitzers and mortars.

A young artist in our company, Norbill Galleon, busied himself recording this terrible scene by making pencil sketches of the devastation. I remember seeing his rendition of the dead soldiers in the trench that had taken their own lives and of some of the battered airplanes and gun emplacements. They were as graphic as any photograph could have been. Those drawings were as vivid in detail as the photos taken by Matthew Brady of the death scenes of the Civil War, 80 years before. What I would give to have copies of those pictures drawn by Norbill.

Much of the remainder of that day were spent gathering souvenirs, and in some cases registering them with the MPs. Besides rifles, swords and flags, a popular souvenir sought by most Marines were strips of aluminum cut from the wings or fuselage of the wrecked airplanes. The metal was thick enough to make nice bracelets from but was quite difficult to obtain. They had to be cut with our K-bars and required a lot of sawing motion. A sturdy blade with a serrated edge, rather than a smooth edge, would have made the job easier. I had my share of pieces and even formed a couple rather nice bracelets that I wore on my wrists for a while.

Whether it was the first day on Roi or later, I visited briefly a medical clinic facility near the Administration Building on the East side of Roi. In a supply room adjoining the medical clinic that I entered there was one wall of blankets on shelves that ran from the floor to the ceiling. They were new Japanese Navy blankets and they were beautiful. Made of heavy wool, the blankets were similar in weight to the original Hudson Bay blankets. The difference being, these were gray with a powder blue anchor on one end with a sawtooth like trim that ran across the same end of the blanket as the anchor and of the same color. I would love to possess such a blanket but refrained from taking one because I did not want or need to add to the weight of the gear I already had to carry. Many times since then I have wished that I had taken one.

Upon existing from that clinic an oriental women was in custody of other Marines. She was acting like a riled up bantam roster - very uncooperative, yelled and spit at the faces of her captors, who tried to move her toward the prisoner compound near the beaches on which we had landed. We had the impression that she was one of the prostitutes provided for the Japanese airmen. She wore a short tight skirt and a blouse that left little to the imagination and she had a mouth full of gold inlay on her teeth. She spoke no English but we could pretty well understand her meanings. She hated us to the core but she reluctantly moved in the direction of the prodding of a rifle now and then. Where she had been captured no one offered such information. Since she was the prisoner of other Marines, I had nothing to do with her and never saw her after that. She was the only prisoner I saw taken on Roi.

Defensive positions were established by nightfall and it began raining. We slept and stood watch in our ponchos. Though there was enemy action in other sectors there was nothing to mar our watch that night other than the rain. In the morning as usual a few more Japanese soldiers were on the wreck and a like number appeared behind us from among the craters on the runways.

Before we left the island on 4 February 1944 we learned that officers of high rank had visited Roi to inspect the condition of the Marines and our equipment during our occupation. The report we heard was those officers were raving mad at the lack of military discipline and conditions they found on Roi. It was obvious that scavenging for souvenirs had a higher priority rather than securing a field of combat. We were to hear more about military discipline aboard ship and after we made our next camp. Had we been as bad as that report made us out to be, someone should have been court martialed but no one was. Looking back I think the reason for the lack of discipline after securing the island was that the island came too easy. In my view, had we had to dig in and fight for Roi like the 24th did for Namur, the 23rd would have had no disciplinary problem. In the end the shortcomings of Roi were corrected and the Corps was proud of our service on Saipan, Tinian and Iwo. As we left the island, natives were returning from other islands where they had taken refuge during the bombings and invasion. They were seen carrying liters from aid stations to the beach for transportation back to the ships.

After we were aboard the LaSalle once more and underway, many of us learned how to wash clothes by securing them to a line and throwing them over the rail to be pounded clean by the action of the waves. In most cases this worked out fine but there were those few whose lines let go and that piece of laundry was lost. I think there were orders posted not to engage in this activity so it became a night time adventure. I was fortunate in that whatever I had rinsing over the side was still there when I pulled in my line. (Can't remember where or how we happened to get those lines.) The Head or toilet facility for the compartments forward of the focsle was at the very bow of the ship and under the top deck. Toilets were troughs along both sides from the point of the ship where seawater entered the troughs and rushed down both sides and exited at the last point of the trough. Suspended above the trough were two planks that were separated for convenience and they kept one from slipping into the trough. When the sea was running high and the ship was rocking and rolling, the use of the Head could be quite an experience, a wetting experience and one where you had to hang on to prevent being tossed from your perch. Often the water was not confined to the trough and the deck was mighty wet.

When the weather permitted, I resumed sleeping on deck, resting in the galley and listening to the radio. The smell of freshly baked bread was just as wonderful as before.

During the daytime but especially at night it was enjoyable to watch dolphins swimming along the bow of the ship. I saw no whales but occasionally large schools of flying fish could be seen flying out from the side of the ship, just like what people on cruise ships find entertaining.

While bound for Maui, I was hounded by everybody that knew I had a Japanese pistol. They wanted either to see, hold, barter or steal it from me. It was such a nuisance that I approached Lt. Randall and asked if he had a place to hide it until we arrived at Maui. He was agreeable and I turned it over to him for safe keeping. The pressure was off when it was learned I did not have it in my possession. And the balance of our voyage became quite routine and without much to write about.

As we disembarked at Maui, the pistol was still in Lt. Randall's possession except that when C company officer's bags were being delivered from the ship to camp, they were diverted, stolen. When the officers' bags did not appear at camp, a search of the area between the docks and camp was conducted. The bags were found but they had been slit open and all valuables had been removed. Lt. Randall knew I had the serial number of the pistol. I had also carved my initials in the bottom edge of the wooden hand grips. Together Lt. Randall and I visited all the post offices on Maui and left the identifying information with the postal authorities to watch for parcels being mailed out from Maui containing any stolen property. The effort proved to be ineffective and no lead was ever established regarding the thieves who stole the officer's belongings and my pistol.